Shattered Stars

by Theresa Kay

  I shrug. I guess it’s worth a shot.

  Before I have a chance to do anything, an elbow digs into my side. Rym. “You two need to knock that off,” he says under his breath. “They think you’re planning something, and you’re making them nervous. There will be plenty of time to chat later.”

  “There will?” Lir glances at his cousin, one eyebrow arching upward.

  Rym studies his hands. “Let’s just say as long as Jax behaves herself, we’ll be granted time to chat. Kai promised.”

  “Kai?” asks Lir with a hint of disapproval.

  My brows draw together. There’s clearly some sort of protocol or custom I’m missing about referring to these E’rikon by their shortened names. Or it could be the subtle arrogance from Lir’s high-ranking status showing itself again.

  “Yes, Kai. Now, we need to get over there and on that ship before he has to send someone back to see what’s taking so long.” Rym runs a hand over his face, then meets my eyes. “No matter what, I will not…” His gaze moves to Lir. “I will not allow him to take you again.”

  Lir holds Rym’s gaze and reaches forward to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, cousin. I appreciate everything you have done for me, even though I do not always say it.”

  One side of Rym’s mouth quirks up. “You’re welcome.”

  THERE’S A SOFT CLICK AS the door shuts, the quiet sound a mockery of the pleas and screams echoing in my head. The laboratory worker—

  his wife’s name is brenda…

  his son’s name is henry…

  his name was william…

  he hated beetles…

  he loved apples…

  Pieces of him are swirling through my head—his greatest fear, his favorite color, his most cherished memory—a puzzle of tiny snapshots that, put together, made him who he was.

  That person is shattered now. And so am I.

  I knew about Grandfather’s ability, knew what he was capable of, what he could do with it. Replay memories. Extract information. Implant thoughts and emotions. I’ve seen him in action. But it was never anything like what I just did. It was the difference between a lifetime of honing a skill and an infant’s first steps.

  I’ve read people’s thoughts before, manipulated a few minds, but today… I fumbled around in that man’s mind blindly, and for the first time I realized how very inept I am. I might be more powerful than Grandfather—and that’s a definite might—but he can wield his power with such finesse that… that I’m beginning to doubt every thought I have, especially the hopeful ones.

  Because those are the ones that keep me going.

  Is he fanning that tiny spark of hope so he can keep using me? Letting me think I have a chance of breaking free? Just how much of… everything has Grandfather orchestrated?

  Acid burns the back of my throat, and my stomach twists. I swallow and squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t help. My knees hit the floor, and I vomit up the nothing in my stomach. I dry heave until acid and bile drip off my chin, then rest my head against the wall and try to pull myself together.

  I still have to report to Grandfather with the information I pulled from the man’s head, as little as it is. The bits and pieces I got are useless, but there’s no way for me to go back in. Maybe if I’d had more practice or more skill, I would have been able to do more than crash through his thoughts, destroying his mind in the process and leaving nothing for Grandfather to examine.

  Will he think I did it on purpose?

  Was this a test? And if so, of what? My loyalty? My skill? My power?

  Did I pass or fail? Or both?

  My headache is back, a throbbing pain behind my eyes that makes me want to crawl into bed, go to sleep, and forget about all of it. But I can’t. If Grandfather is controlling me more than I thought, then I’ll have to fight harder. I can’t second-guess everything I think and feel. Some of it has to be real, and I’m going to choose to believe in the positive things. If I give up, he wins. No matter what else might be in doubt, I know that much.

  I push myself up onto shaky legs and lean against the wall while I get my bearings.

  Right now, Grandfather needs me. He can’t control the humans without me, and there are no other E’rikon minds here for him to meddle with. I suspect he wants the data on the hybrid experiments so he can… I don’t know. Replace me maybe? But that can’t be it. None of the hybrids created here on Earth would have the custom blend of enhancements that ended up in me and my sister. He can’t replace me, not with another Earth-born hybrid. I don’t know if he even meant for someone like me to exist. I doubt he even took that possibility into account when he was manipulating his unborn child’s genetics.

  I chuckle to myself. He’s going to have a hard time doing anything now that he’s practically destroyed Dane’s lab. William had no idea where they kept the duplicate records and backup samples, therefore Grandfather won’t know either.

  I push off the wall and head to his office.

  “Come in,” he says in response to my knock. He looks up from the gadget in front of him as I walk in. “Shut the door behind you.”

  “Yes, Grandfather.”

  “Have a seat and tell me what you found out.”

  The chair squeaks under me as I sit. I keep my eyes down and shake my head. “Not much. He—”

  I will be the judge of that. His mind slams into mine and rifles through my memories of the last few hours, minute by minute. He replays each bit of stolen information two or three times before moving on to the next. When he’s finished, he pushes away from the desk and takes in a loud breath through his nose. I have trained you better than that.

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  Stop. I am not interested in excuses. I was fairly certain he did not know much, and it is a good thing I was correct. Grandfather rises to his feet and paces around the desk to stand in front of me. You will do better next time.

  “Next time?” I try to keep the horror out of my voice. And fail miserably. I dig my fingers into my thighs and tense my jaw.

  He makes a sound of disgust. “He was merely something you could practice on. I will assist with the next interrogation, and you will pay closer attention this time. Come.”

  I follow him out of the office and all the way down into the basement. The light grows dimmer as we descend, and once the thick metal door at the bottom of the stairs closes behind me, I can’t hear anything but a quiet drip. The basement level must be soundproofed. I’ve never been down here, not even when Dane was in charge. Hell, I didn’t know this building had a basement level, but I’m not entirely surprised to find a long hallway with three narrow doors on either side. Cells.

  Grandfather walks to the second door on the right and slides his forearm over a pad on the side. There’s a soft click, and he pushes the door open and motions for me to go in ahead of him.

  What is E’rikon tech doing down here? Why would Dane—

  Inside. Now.

  I nod quickly and hurry into the room.

  My breath catches in my throat. The walls. The floor. The ceiling. They’re all white. Not the stark, sterile white of the E’rikon laboratories, but close enough that my lungs are struggling for air. Anger and hatred, wrapped in absolute terror, flood through me. I have to get out of here. I can’t… I can’t… I can’t…

  I scramble backward and collide with a solid form behind me—Grandfather. Irritation and annoyance flow off of him.

  “Shhhh…” he whispers as he delves into my mind and quickly rearranges something.

  All my fear leaks away with a slow exhale. The other emotions remain, but they’ve been sharpened—and pointed at a target. The man in the corner. He’s older. I don’t know him, but I’ve seen him. Not one of the scientists… someone else.

  Grandfather’s hands release my arms—When did he grab me?—and he takes a step back. “This man’s wife was one of the test subjects, and she is pregnant.” He nudges me forward. “You are going to determine where she is and whether this man
did anything that might have… disrupted the insemination process and led to the pregnancy being merely human.”

  Fear lurks in the man’s eyes, but his attitude is nothing but defiant. “Now listen here, you erk bastard,” he practically yells. “I’ve told you where that wench is, or at least who she’s with. She’s with his sister. And I was one of Jacobs’s most loyal supporters. I knew damn well not to mess with that girl until after she carried one of them half-breeds to term.”

  Grandfather smiles with cold and empty eyes. “Yes. I am aware of your assertions, but your loyalty to Jacobs means nothing to me, and I do not trust you. If I am going to risk going after that ‘wench,’ as you call her, I will be certain.” He gestures to me. “Besides, my grandson needs the practice. I suggest you not fight him too much. The last person he… interrogated did not come through it in one piece.”

  The color drains from the man’s face as his eyes dart to me.

  First, says Grandfather in my head, relax him. Make him comfortable. Make him want to tell you.

  I extend my awareness and latch on to the man’s mind, sending him a gentle wave of calmness. His eyes are still wide and terrified, his hands shaking at his sides. I try again, this time a little harder. Too hard. He slumps to the floor. I run forward and place two fingers on his neck. He has a pulse. He’s merely unconscious.

  Thank God.

  Grandfather sneers and shakes his head. “I had hoped to take you with me for this next task, but you are of no use to me as you are now. Weak. Unstable. Out of control.” His eyes come up to meet mine, hard and narrowed. “I had to be broken and stripped of everything before I came into my full power. Perhaps you need the same.”

  Before I can fully process his words, he grabs my upper arm, yanks me from the cell, and drags me down the hall to the last door on the left. His mind binds my limbs in place as he opens the door and shoves me inside. As the door closes, he pulls away, taking with him every bit of calm, every block on my memories, and every one of his subtle manipulations that kept me from the darkness.

  I never knew how kind he’d been.

  The world crashes down around me. Raging grief, anger, pain, and fear flood into me on a tidal wave of white-hot fire that’s reflected in the room around me. No screams. Only whimpers as I huddle on the floor and bury my face in my arms.

  When the darkness finally comes, I welcome it, letting it wash away every bit of light around me.

  ONE MOMENT I’M STARING SILENTLY at Tiercel, trying to figure out how to convey a “wait here” command, and the next… I’m drowning.

  I fight. I flail. I open my mouth to scream, but there’s no sound here, and liquid despair fills my throat. There’s nothing but darkness, a cold frigid thing I’m sinking into, moving lower and lower but never reaching bottom.

  Echoes of familiar voices trickle into my ears, pulling me toward them.

  … wrong with her? The bird?

  Don’t!

  She can’t…

  Stop!

  Like a door slamming shut, silence descends again.

  It’s been a second. It’s been a lifetime. It’s been no time at all. And I’m still falling. Or am I?

  How can you tell if you’re moving when you’re surrounded by nothing?

  You can’t.

  The sinking sensation flutters away, only to be replaced by something much, much worse. I’m mired in it now. Stuck. Paralyzed. Choking. Panic floods my body, skating along each and every nerve ending until I am nothing but fear and terror and… rage? Flames whisper under my skin, growing hotter and hotter. I need to get them out, send them away, and into—

  No!

  The world screeches to a stop. This isn’t my darkness. These aren’t my emotions. But I think I know who all this belongs to—and this might be my chance to help him.

  Jace? The sound of my brother’s name slides from my mouth and through the air on a bright streak of hope, slowly turning the air around me from pitch black to the pale gray of a heavy morning fog.

  A dark form is huddled in the corner, arms wrapped tightly around his legs, rocking back and forth and whispering to himself. He’s a skeleton dressed in rags, a shadow of the brother I expected. Whether or not his appearance in this little corner of his mind mirrors reality, I have no way to tell. I sure hope not.

  I call his name again. He twitches but doesn’t look up. I step closer, one hand extended. Let me help you.

  There is no help for me. His words are barely more than a broken sob. He stole everything from me except my sanity. Now he’s taken that too.

  “Don’t let him have it,” I blurt out. “Fight him.”

  “I tried…” His voice cracks, and he shakes his head. I tried.

  I crouch down in front of him and gently place a hand on his arm. “Let me help. You were there for me. Let me be there for you.”

  His muscles tense under my hand. “But you’re not. You’re not here. You left. Without saying goodbye. You left me with him. And now he has me. And now he has me. And now he has me…” His voice trails off, and he begins rocking again.

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  The rocking abruptly stops. Jace’s head rises slowly, his eyes coming up to meet mine. But they aren’t his eyes. Red eyes with a starburst of yellow reside on my brother’s face. Jastren’s eyes.

  “You do not belong here,” he says coldly. “Get out.”

  When I don’t move, Jace’s hands snake out to wrap around my arms and squeeze. I said. Get. Out.

  He shoves me backward. I tumble over and splash back down into the darkness.

  Flailing, I crash through some sort of barrier and into a world of light. Air rushes into my lungs for the first time in what feels like hours. I blink my eyes open. I’m lying half in Lir’s lap, and his arms are wrapped around me, rocking me in a motion eerily similar to my brother’s. His face hovers above me. His emerald eyes are unfocused, shot through with fear and despair. His hands are shaking. No, his whole body is shaking. And he’s whispering the same words over and over.

  I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.

  I cough, and a jolt travels through his body. He focuses on me, and I see nothing but stark, cold panic in his eyes. His expression cycles from unbelieving, to hopeful, to relieved. A shudder travels down his arms, and he relaxes briefly before tugging my face to his and slamming his lips against mine. It’s not slow. It’s not sweet. There’s passion behind the kiss, but it’s different from our others. This is a passion born of terror and loss and the need to feel alive.

  My arms wrap around his neck as he pulls me upright. His hands come up to frame my face, and he deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into my mouth. One of my hands finds the bottom edge of his shirt and—

  “Cough, cough,” says Rym loudly.

  Oh crap. We have an audience. Heat floods into my cheeks, but Lir doesn’t release me right away. He presses another, softer kiss to my lips, then rests his forehead against mine.

  “Never do that again,” he says in a sharp, commanding voice born of absolute terror and a domineering protectiveness.

  I clear my throat. I’m a bit thrown off by the harsh bite to his words. “I’m not entirely sure I did that.”

  Lir tenses. Jastren?

  No. Jace.

  That answer does nothing to relax him. If anything, he goes more rigid. That should not be possible. The bond—

  “Okay guys, why don’t we move this conversation onto the ship,” says Rym. “Our escorts are getting a little antsy.”

  I glance at the group of E’rikon standing around me. They all have a wary anger about them, marked by shifting feet and narrowed eyes. Even Kai has lost the open curiosity he displayed earlier. Way to alienate the potential allies, Jax. I suppose it could be worse. I could have blasted them with the shikiza like I did to Rym one time.

  Lir pushes something into my hand. My knife? I run my hand down my leg to find my sheath empty. What?

  They would not back away. So I… wa
ved it around a bit. He presses his lips together and turns his face away from me, shame overtaking the panic still crashing through the bond.

  Suddenly the reason for the expressions on our escorts’ faces—and the shame rolling across the bond—becomes clear. They aren’t particularly worried about me, but their prince, or whatever he is, just threatened them with a knife. And they know… they know he killed someone, one of his own, and probably one of the askari. Maybe even a friend of someone here.

  I slide the knife back into my leg sheath and wrap my hands around Lir’s. You did what you had to. There’s nothing wrong with that. As Peter would say, the first step to making peace with it is forgiving yourself.

  He gives me a stiff nod, barely a lowering of his chin, and rises to his feet, pulling me up with him. The muscles in my legs tremble and threaten to give out, and he wraps an arm around my waist to help steady me.

  Rym chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Geez, dramatic much?” He steps up to my other side and places a hand on my arm. In a much lower voice he adds, “I am glad you’re okay. That was… terrifying.”

  I pat his hand once and walk toward the ship with him and Lir flanking me. It was terrifying. And not just because I almost lost control of my abilities and blasted everyone here with barely a thought. The scariest thing is, like Lir, I didn’t think it was even possible for Jace to pull me into his head—not since Lir blocked him. Who’s to say he can’t pull me in again at any time? Worse, who’s to say he can’t keep me there? Jastren wanted me out this time, but next time…

  I shudder.

  I fought my way out of my own darkness after what happened at the cabin, but I don’t know if I can fight my way through Jace’s too. If one of them pulled me in again, this time purposely… I may never find my way out on my own.

  THE REST OF OUR JOURNEY to the city is quick. It feels as if I’ve only just sat down when we’re slowly descending into a landing. The confidence I had earlier has leeched away, and Lir, the steadfast diplomat, is buzzing with anxiety. I can tell his mind is somewhere else, lost in a frantic struggle to regain control of the world around him after everything went completely off-kilter. I know how that feels, and I understand where his harsh words came from earlier and why he’s now gripping my hand like he’s afraid to let go. But I don’t know what to do for him. He’s not letting me in.