Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three)

by Hales, Wendy S.

  Funding the human research facility had been genius. Osiris had used the human’s construction of the research facility to disguise the platinum/lead fortifications, stocking and hiding the entrance carved within the interior of the iceberg. No one except Osiris could get in or out once winter began in earnest. It was a self-contained, floating, impenetrable fortress. The magnetic pull of the South Pole even made GPS impossible. Only those familiar with the current patterns the berg floated in could find it.

  Less than two hours at top speed brought the Antarctic coast into view, a desolate tundra of dense ice. The boat driver steered parallel with the land. Finally his destination loomed and rose from the ocean, larger than Manhattan. The boat driver steered carefully around it, his eyes glued to the rise and fall of ice beneath the ocean surface, searching for the small, carved-out section designed for boats to dock. Not a moment too soon—Kelly’s chattering teeth were driving Osiris out of his mind.

  Osiris glanced over his shoulder at the boat carrying Ten, trailed by several more coming up fast. There was a good chance Stacey would arrive after sunset. The Antarctic was harsh in the sun, but the instant the sun set, especially the last time, plunging it into four months of darkness, it was brutally inhospitable. If she heeded his instructions, she might arrive without too many effects from the elements. If she ignored them in any manner, she’d be barely alive from the cold, but she would survive.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “We’ve got a problem.” The telepathic voice of his brother was like acid thrown on Conlon’s extreme frustration at following the helicopter for miles to anticipate a safe spot to bring the bird down, only to have the pilot dodge at the last minute each time. The flight plan seemed to purposely travel human establishments and towns. Every once in a while he’d see a Tellus head pop out of the ground like a periscope. The Aquaties hadn’t been able to keep up on foot and had dropped out of the chase hundreds of miles ago. Although fast in water, they could only maintain short bursts of speed on land.

  Mid-state Utah, he and the other warriors had had enough. They brought the ’copter down in the San Rafael Swell within a few miles of the Utah/Colorado border and just outside the small town of Green River. Shock, uncertainty, and guilt ate at Conlon. The pilot was alone in the craft, human, and he’d died on impact. A red herring, or chance? It was possible the coincidence of the helicopter take-off had nothing to do with Johnny’s abduction and they’d just killed an innocent man, probably been seen in flight by thousands of humans along the way, traumatized townsfolk that were now being gathered and mind scrubbed … all in the pursuit of an innocent or decoy.

  “Pile it on, brother.” Conlon felt a shiver of dread course down his spine at the stress in Shane’s voice. The two teenage boys he just finished scrubbing wandered dazed toward the small dirt bikes they rode over to the crash site. Since the pilot was human, Conlon and the other Volaticus were leaving the mangled helicopter with the body inside. They carved around the crash memory to remove the sight of flying Volaticus and Tellus popping out of the ground from the minds of the human witnesses.

  With the telepathic bond open between Conlon and Shane, he could tell that his brother conversed with others, but he couldn’t catch the details of those conversations. “With so many SOSC warriors mass-exiting the energy weave, we’ve only just now got the energy-signature reports.” Did an enemy breach their protections? Was Stacey in danger? Conlon waited for Shane to elaborate; as commandant, Shane had to be dealing with an unimaginable amount of chaos. “Stacey has left the protection of the weave, Conlon.”

  Conlon searched the faces around him, expecting to see Stacey among them. The stubborn female would defy him without blinking. When he didn’t see her, he searched the horizon. How far behind them could she be? How experienced was she in flight? Would she be able to track them, or would she get lost?

  “I’ll find her,” Conlon assured Shane and left the others to finish with clean up. Taking to the sky, he retraced the path using a zigzag pattern as his ears pivoted constantly to pick up any sound along the way.

  Two hours later, he landed outside a weave entry to the campus, unable to find her. Most of the people from the crash had already returned via port or a more direct path. Conlon bypassed the building where his brother had set up a tactical meeting and where the SOSC currently was organizing a full-scale search for Mick, Johnny, and now Stacey.

  His hand shook when he reached for the doorknob of his house. Room by room he searched for clues. Stacey’s cell phone sat abandoned on the counter with sixty-seven missed calls, most from Cassie but others from Shane, Jess, Irsu, Umbrae, Aymee, Greycia, Greyton, and the list went on and on …

  He scrolled through the calls between rooms. Outside his bedroom he found her last received call. Unknown caller … was it from Osiris or one of his minions? Please Fates … don’t take her from me. The lump in his throat threatened to choke off his airway completely. When he saw her things scattered around, indicating she’d packed quickly, he knew exactly what had happened. Wildly he rummaged through everything. She would have left me a message … I know it. His gaze traveled into the master bath. Stacey’s tattoo gun was plunged into the sheetrock of the wall with the word “SOUTH” written on a scrap of paper hanging from it.

  Conlon snatched the paper and raced to the meeting. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

  ****

  Son of a bitch. Conlon had followed Stacey’s scent but lost it quickly when the wind picked up. He needed his partner. With fear-induced, impotent rage, he caught sight of her beside a warrior unit tracker named Gord. She wore a bikini. “Let’s go.” Mattie shifted into the shape of a chimpanzee, as if she had been waiting for him.

  Conlon caught a glimpse of marine hair and opalescent skin out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw Greyton and Greycia standing next to him with an assortment of Aquatie warriors. “Conlon, my friend, we’re headed out. Our people will be along the coast of both the pacific and the Gulf of Mexico. We will parallel your southerly search from the water. Beach scouts are stationed every two hundred miles on either side. They will echo sonar into the seas to keep us informed of your coordinates along the route.”

  Conlon gripped Greyton’s shoulder in appreciation and friendship. As powerful as the Aquaties were against a direct land target, their abilities were limited when long-distance, rapid land travel became necessary. “Thank you.” Greyton returned the shoulder embrace and Greycia placed a kiss to Conlon’s cheek.

  Before Stacey’s arrival in Conlon’s life, Greyton, Greycia … hell pretty much everyone was merely an acquaintance. In taking part at the sparring ranges, he had made friends. Truthfully, he’d only joined in so he could keep an eye on Stacey while she trained with Jess and Umbrae, to show off for her occasionally and be near should she need him. Plus, she destroyed his private workout space in his basement. Stacey had shattered his “loner” image.

  “Mount up,” Conlon growled. Mattie jumped as he lifted her, extended his wings, and launched. The chimpanzee expression showed raw determination as Conlon circled his house. Then she pointed to the trail he’d been able to follow earlier but couldn’t detect now. The Tellus sense of smell was the most advanced on the planet.

  “Shane, I’ve got Mattie and she’s picked up Stacey’s trail. I’m not risking losing it,” Conlon informed his brother telepathically.

  “Go. Warriors are on their way to flank you,” Shane answered.

  They’d barely breached the weave before Eros and Jacob Sicarius shimmered into view, flying alongside. Eros gave Conlon a nod. The two vanished after making Conlon aware of their presence.

  “I’ve got your weapons, Uncle.” Irsu flew at his opposite side with a heavy bag hanging from her waist.

  Enlil, Umbrae’s bloodmate and Jess’s mentor, followed a few feet behind. He too carried a heavy bag of weapons. Enlil’s ability to siphon psychic energy allowed him to see Eros’s family while they were shadowed. Since Osiris and his sons were also
of the Sicarius bloodline and could shadow, the sight of Enlil filled Conlon with gratitude, a gratitude that increased ten-fold when, of all people, Conlon’s mentor Sargon caught up to him. The Tellus tracker Gord rode Sargon’s massive chest.

  That Sargon had set aside his duties as warrior leader to the entire western half of North America to be part of the search meant everything to Conlon. Despite his heavily muscled, mammoth proportions, Sargon surged ahead. Between Gord and Mattie, they easily located the deep sand bowl where Stacey had met up with a male. Conlon growled low and deadly at the hint of male scent lingering in the wind-protected area.

  Mattie pointed straight up in the air. Conlon followed her indication, on a southern direction again. Whoever the bastard was, he had Stacey flying at over six thousand feet. Without knowing the tricks of flying in reduced oxygen, this height would have been exhausting for Stacey.

  Hour after hour they followed the pointing of Gord and Mattie while Conlon’s concern for Stacey’s safety grew. He wasn’t the only one. Jacob Sicarius had hooked a conductive chain to Irsu so the young assassin could shadow Conlon’s niece. The two had dropped to a lower air stream where they could see the land below in case Stacey had dropped out of the sky with fatigue.

  At top speed it had taken them ten hours to reach the lime grove. Mattie shook her head. Conlon’s gut clenched. Gord picked up a peeled lime from the ground, held it to his nose and nodded. They flew another half hour to a beach. Within seconds Greyton and other Aquaties started walking out of the Ocean to join them. Mattie and Gord shifted back to their natural form. Mattie discretely adjusted the meager bikini that had shifted during the journey.

  Even in the dark of night, Conlon could see where Stacey had crashed into the edge of the surf. He knelt and placed his hand to the indent where she laid to rest. He saw the marks of where someone heavier had sat in the sand beside her, and the footprints of a third person joining them. The trio had ported from here. A whiff of coconut from the tree line had him following Stacey’s footprints. Her urine had long since dried, but her scent was still strong. He saw a disturbed palm leaf and lifted it. In the soft sandy dirt she had written the word “Chile” and an arrow pointing south. Did that mean south to Chile or southern Chile?

  “Who’s familiar with Chile?” Some of the others raised hands at Conlon’s question.

  Sargon shook his head. “Chile is huge, Conlon. Hell, the Andes mountain range alone would take weeks to search.”

  “There’s a chortal not far from here that can get us to Santiago,” Irsu added. “I led a mission to break up a smuggling ring of the enlightened down there a few years ago.”

  “If you’re worried about getting Mattie and Gord there, we can transport them by sea,” Greyton offered.

  “She left an arrow pointing south. I think we should start at the southern tip and move north.” Conlon knew the chances of finding her at all, let alone quickly, were slim to none.

  As the highest-ranked SOSC warrior, Sargon took the lead. His deep, booming voice commanded attention. “Are you both comfortable shifting into sea mammals?” he asked Mattie and Gord.

  Gord nodded while Mattie grinned sadly. “I learned to swim in seal form when I was at Meshy Hell.”

  Greyton gave her a warning look. “We’ll be doing the swimming. The speed we’ll be traveling cannot be achieved by any other mammal.”

  “Volaticus, port to the chortal entrance. We will fly from there to the southern tip. Tellus and Aquatie, I bid you good journey.” Sargon ordered.

  Mattie and Gord followed the Aquatie into the waves. Conlon watched his brave partner shimmy out of her swimwear and toss it to the beach. Irsu added it to the weapons bag, waving as Mattie shifted into a small seal and disappeared beneath the water.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  DeeAnna swam the North Ocean … again. It had been over a year since the day her paired sibling was netted and snatched from her life. One minute they'd been swimming playfully, having a great day, and the next he'd shoved her out of the way as a harpoon plunged through his stomach, followed by a net that had nearly surrounded her too. Her panicked distress call had brought every warrior from their school to her aid, but it had been too late. Her brother was gone.

  Other than the sentries, everyone avoided this area now. DeeAnna felt compelled to come. Dean lived … somewhere. She held to that knowledge like a beacon of hope. If the sibling bond had been severed, she would void her life without hesitation. It was her fault. She'd begged Dean to leave his laboratory and enjoy the last few hours of sunlight with her.

  “I'm in the middle of research, DeeAnna.”

  “Please.” She had given him a pout, aware he could deny that look nothing.

  He'd pulled her hair and conceded just like she knew he would. “You, sister, do not play fair.”

  The sound of a human power craft sliding through the slushy surface drew her out of the memory. Why would a boat be navigating these dangerous, rapidly freezing waters at night? Her curiosity overruled caution. Further hidden by the storm descending on the area, she trailed the boat from what she hoped was a safe distance. The motor cut and DeeAnna lifted her head above the surface, keeping to the high waves so she could see clearly. The boat pulled to the iceberg where humans worked sometimes. Three people disembarked onto the man-made platform built just above sea level and the boat pulled away with only the driver. It headed straight at her. She quickly ducked, swam toward the boat until it had passed overhead, and then rose again.

  At first she thought the three people were human, but the female … unlike the two males bundled in heavy outer wear, the female wore a simple coat. Long, black waves whipped wildly in the Antarctic wind. A human dressed that lightly would perish in minutes from the cold. Her heart clenched in her chest when they disappeared into the iceberg … somehow.

  Roarke would not like other enlightened species in his territory without his knowledge. What if the males where human trappers and the female a victim? What if they had something to do with Dean? Sure, warriors had sunk a boat full of human trappers and there had been no more problems, but still … it was possible. Under interrogation, the humans had sworn they weren't involved in Dean’s capture.

  It was rumored that Volaticus had exceptional hearing, and they might hear a sonar call. DeeAnna felt the current beneath the iceberg, so she could find it easily again, and made her way back to her school at top speed.

  ****

  Enraged beyond anything he'd felt in centuries, Osiris stomped through the halls of ice toward his office. While torturing Ten, he'd drunk nearly a full pint of Ten's blood, yet he'd been unable to penetrate the shield protection to gain access into the depths of Ten's psyche. Furthermore, Ten push back, forcing Osiris to retreat or risk revealing secrets to his traitorous offspring. To add insult to injury, Ten refused to acknowledge his name. “My name is Mick.” Tired of hearing the same thing over and over, Osiris had started using Mick's preferred name even though it galled him. Still, his son had not given up a thing.

  With the child waking and the female's arrival, he would have additional leverage against Mick. Of course, Osiris would never harm his grandson at this young age, but the mother … and by bond the child …. Oh, yes, Mick would snap. The information Mick had given the SOSC about his organization would be repaid ten-fold.

  The acute isolation of the iceberg meant no contact with the outside world. Frank had been entrusted to oversee his organization during Osiris's absence. With a small smile he remembered his last “meeting” with Frank. Somehow Frank had carved a special notch for himself inside Osiris's armor. The sense of yearning for the male did not improve his mood, nor did the darkened screen of his computer as he sat behind his desk. The camera systems he’d installed in the berg were as yet non-operational, though the only person who knew this was the engineer he’d brought along just in case of a problem.

  The door burst open with a bang. What the … He caught an amused expression on Twelve and Nine's faces a second
before the door slammed closed on them with equal force. Stacey stood before him, one hand on her cocked, chunky hip, her gaze irate. “Where is my son, asshole?”

  It took Osiris a moment to get over the shock of her arrival and declaration. She was heavier than she appeared in the pictures from five years ago. “You will be reunited soon enough.” He leaned back in his chair. The female had spunk. “I recommend you treat me with a measure of respect in the future.”

  Instead of taking the insinuated threat seriously, Stacey's glare became more intense as she plopped uninvited into the chair across from him. “Respect is earned, Osiris. You want mine, you know how to get it.”

  Think again, little girl, he thought. “Before you see Johnny, I will need certain assurances from you, Stacey. You will adhere to every task and test I subject you to. If you don’t, I will have you drained and your body tossed into the sea. Understand.” His tone was calm, in contradiction of her ferocious one.

  “You're holding my son. It's not like I have a choice.” She shrugged her pudgy arms, folded defiantly, belaying her words.

  Osiris couldn't help but admire her a little. “As long as we understand each other. Follow me.”

  He could feel her hostile gaze on the back of his neck as he led her through the halls. Twelve and Nine followed behind her. When he opened the door to Mick's torture chamber, Stacey pushed past him and knelt next to Mick's crumpled, nude form shivering with hypothermia in the corner.

  “You're a psychopath,” Stacey hissed over her shoulder at him.

  Osiris grinned. “That is a fact. Bear that in mind at all times.”

  Mick cringed from her touch, but she persisted, grasping his bruised arm. Amazingly, Mick's shivering calmed. Mick looked at Stacey through eyes nearly swollen shut. “I'm sorry, Stacey. I only took my eye off Johnny for a second. I'm so sorry.”