by Tess Mallory
She led him to the door, no longer caring what her thin gown revealed.
"I will lock the door myself," she said, keeping her voice even, "put in my own code. Please leave now, Kell, before we say things we will regret."
Blue eyes locked with turquoise, and for a moment Sky thought she saw fury in the depths of his gaze. Impossible. Kell's emotions were kept under tight control at all times, especially the more volatile ones. She knew his people's history, knew the violent rages that had governed them in the past and the new road of emotional control they had learned to use in an effort to end their civil wars.
Finally, Kell nodded curtly and left the room without another word, without a backward glance. Sky sank back down on the bed with a sigh. She hated to pull rank on her friend, but his stubbornness often left her no other alternative. She was glad he was gone. This was one endeavor she didn't dare risk with him there—or with anyone else, for that matter. Once her shields were down, the mind of anyone inside the cabin would be open to her, and she had to focus, to concentrate on sending out her psychic aura to Mayla. She wasn't just relying on Mayla finding her; she fully intended to use her mental powers to search for her sister.
She couldn't let Kell or anyone else know the extent of her power—and the even more formidable abilities of her sister. The Cezans had learned eons ago never to reveal the complete truth about themselves. If people knew, they usually reacted by deifying them as gods, by trying to kill them, or by trying to steal their powers. Not that there was much to worry about in that area with Kell. He loved her—too much, she was afraid—and would defend her to the death. He would never harm her.
Sky lay back again, her silver hair spreading beneath her in fine waves. She would compose herself for a moment before removing the band, ready herself by strengthening her own mental shields, then once the band was no longer protecting her, she would slowly lower her shields one by one, until either Mayla contacted her or she sensed other minds breaching the integrity of the cabin's shielding. The com was within reach. In spite of Kell's irritating attitude, he had been right about one thing: If the weight of the minds just on the ship alone were to pierce the shielding of the room, she could go into telepathic shock and die.
She smoothed one hand over her abdomen and then down her right leg, feeling the softness of the material beneath her fingers as she began to breathe slowly, rhythmically. She seldom allowed herself the luxury of soft garments. As the captain of the Defiant and the protector of Mayla, Sky had no time for gentle clothing or gentle thoughts; she must always be alert, ready for action, ready to fight. She savored the feel of the cloth against her skin, feeling almost guilty for indulging such silly feminine thoughts, but knew the relaxation they brought would enable her to reach down farther into the core of her strength and ready herself for what lay ahead.
When at last she felt she was prepared, she lifted both hands and removed the silver band, holding it above her head like a deposed queen relinquishing her crown. Sky held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them warily.
Nothing. No voices, no outside thoughts invading her mind. She released her breath explosively and slowly placed the band on the table next to the bunk, near the com. If the shielding weakened later she could easily grab the band and have it back on before any damage was done. She hoped. Sky closed her eyes again and with both hands curved across her waist, began to send her thoughts out into the universe, searching for her sister.
Eagle hurried around a corner and looking behind him, quickly pried the grid off the endcap of an access tunnel that serviced different parts of the ship. He pulled himself inside the tunnel and replaced the hatch just seconds before the guard tailing him rounded the corner. Eagle froze, watching through the screerlike opening. The man came to a stumbling halt as he realized his quarry wasn't ahead of him any longer, then broke into a run, as Eagle had hoped he would, in an effort to catch up with his assignment. His footsteps pounded off into the distance, and Eagle slipped out of the tunnel and ran in the opposite direction, veering down one adjoining corridor and then another until he was well away from the area the guard would be searching. The man had given himself away about ten minutes after Eagle started his stroll through the Defiant.
Looking back over one shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed again, Eagle turned down another hallway, then stumbled to a stop as he saw the captain's favorite, the blue guy, standing outside a closed doorway. Doing a quick backpace, he cleared a corner and slammed himself against a bulkhead, then stealthily peered around the edge to see what was going on.
Kell hadn't seen him. He obviously had his mind on other things, things that were making him furiously angry. Eagle lifted one dark brow. He hadn't thought the Altairian had that kind of emotion in him. He was frowning at what appeared to be the door to a private cabin. Eagle watched him and, long used to reading faces, even alien ones, realized he was trying to decide something. His fists were clenched at his sides, but suddenly he lifted one hand and punched one finger repeatedly into something—a security alarm pad probably, which were common on ships like this—before turning and walking with rapid strides down the corridor. Eagle waited until he had disappeared before moving quickly to the door.
He smiled. Next to the door was a small sign that read LIUTENANT COMMANDER KELL R’KLON.
Well, well, well, the commander's quarters. No doubt the second-highest-ranking officer on the ship would have his own com unit located inside, one strong enough to send subspace messages. And wonder of wonders—
Eagle blinked, not trusting his eyes for a minute. The alarm had been deactivated. Eagle took a step back from the door, instantly alert. He knew how things were on ships like this—the crew might appear to be an all-for-one-and-one-for-all kind of group, but the truth was they generally didn't trust one another. Therefore, not only were alarms standard operating procedure on these vessels, but there was generally a shielding mechanism of some kind, protecting the person when he was inside, or his possessions when he wasn't.
Why, then, had Kell deliberately shut off the alarm and shielding? Eagle had no doubt that was what the man had been debating over and what he had been punching in was a code of some sort that had shut off the alarm to his own quarters. Why? It could be some kind of trap, but what did they hope to gain? Were they trying to lure him into sending a message—a message they could intercept? He smiled grimly. He knew codes they would never be able to decipher.
He hesitated again, then making up his mind, pushed the release switch at the bottom of the alarm panel. The door slid back and he stepped inside, hitting the inside switch that not only locked the door, but turned on the alarm and activated the shielding. He didn't want anyone walking in on him unannounced, that was for sure. The lighting was dim and he squinted, his eyes adjusting to the darker room. As he began to walk toward the com unit sitting on a desk across the room, he stopped abruptly as he saw the inert form of Captain Sky lying in ethereal stillness on Kell's bunk.
He moved closer to the bed and saw that she was breathing shallowly, her chest rising and falling in a slow, gentle rhythm beneath an almost-sheer deep teal green gown. Eagle felt his pulse quicken as he gazed down at the sleeping beauty, unable to keep from staring at the soft curves of her body—a body almost fully exposed to his view. Knowing he should back away and head for the corn unit across the room, he tried to move but found he couldn't. He could only gaze down into her face, tracing the soft contours of her lips with his eyes.
Strange how gentle she looked in sleep, how unlike the raging captain who had tried to torture him into revealing the child's whereabouts. Running his tongue across his lips without realizing it, he sank down on the side of the bed. His hand brushed against hers inadvertently and all at once, Eagle felt powerful fingers of thought grab hold of him. They paralyzed him, forcing him to remain at her side as a strong, curious mind reached out and entered his own.
Sky had been drifting silently in her mind, cocooned in the peace of her
inner meditation. From time to time she called to her little sister, sending strong mental impulses outward, but mostly she waited, confident Mayla would reach out to her as soon as she sensed Sky's artificial shielding had been lowered.
Sky often thought being a telepath was a curse, the worst thing that could befall a person, but at times she acknowledged the ability had its advantages, like now. When she reached her current level of meditation—unusual in that she seldom had time for it—she could see herself inside her mind. It was like watching an interactive vid, for her mind could create anything, and within its confines she knew a freedom she had never found anywhere else. She flew across a green sky, her arms aloft, the wind pushing beneath her, holding her with the gentleness of a lover's arms. A lover. She smiled and wondered if Mayla would be terribly shocked were she to arrive and find her sister in the throes of a romantic fantasy conjured from the more sensual recesses of her mind. No, she wouldn't subject her innocent sister to such a scene. Still, as Sky lowered herself to the ground, the picture of the perfect man began to form in her mind.
Tall, dark-hatred, he would have green eyes the color of the Andromedan sea. He would be muscular, but not in a thick or heavy-set way; rather he would have the fluid lines of a sleek lion, with strength and prowess held under careful control. His jawline would be square, his mouth firm with a tendency to smile, nose aquiline, a slight hook to it; a few tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, dark eyebrows that were thick but not bushy, accenting his resemblance to the ancient Terranjungle cat, and one single dimple on the right side, near his very Ids sable lips.
Sky stiffened all at once as she sensed she was no longer alone on her battleground. Her imaginary man was there as well. She sensed him before she saw him and allowed his essence to wash over her with a strength that took her breath away, even as his spirit drew her to him. Strange, she didn't usually feel such strong sensations from her mental imaginings. This was silly. She had no time for such nonsense. Concentrating, she shut his image out of her mind, then opened her eyes. He remained, walking slowly, determinedly, toward her. Confused, she watched him approach. She could not see his face, but she began to walk toward him, the pull something she could no longer resist. Then he was there in front of her, but his face was still hazy, blurred, not unusual in a creation of her mind. She reached out one hand to touch his face and immediately a current of desire, passion, need, flowed between them.
Silly. This was completely ridiculous and was taking her away from focusing on finding Mayla. She concentrated again on making him disappear. Instead he took her hand and brought it to his lips, then pulled her closer until they were pressed tightly together. Sky brushed her fingertips against his jaw, tracing a somehow familiar path to his mouth. When she focused on individual aspects of his face, he became clearer. Before she could think, his mouth had covered hers and burned a tantalizing kiss into her, his tongue touching hers slightly, asking entrance that she freely gave.
Sky felt a languidness passing over her, a hot, sultry heaviness flood through her veins and pool down low inside her. She opened her mouth to his and he delved deeper, his hands moving over her body, lulling her into a sweet, sweet peace. She smoothed one hand across his forehead and jerked with reaction. Without warning, thoughts began flowing into hers, thoughts from this dream-man.
Impossible.
An intruder. A horror filled her. This was no fantasy she had created. Someone had entered the room as she lay in her self-induced trance. But who? Although she had taken a personal vow never to enter anyone's mind without permission, Sky did not hesitate. This person had violated her thoughts, and she would not allow him to leave without knowing who had done this, and what his motives were.
She entered his mind, flowing over the outer consciousness, ignoring the random meanderings and delving into the very center of his being. Waves of emotion began hitting her, surged over her, assaulted her with a force too incredible to have been conjured by her mind. Anger, rage, despair—the power of the feelings propelled her back to the edge of his mind.
Her own anger surged, and instead of fleeing the person's mind, she held on against the onslaught of thoughts, looking for a tendril of calm she might hook on to and use as a pathway to the core of the mind. She found it and flung herself against it, riding it through the barrage of intense negative emotions. Gradually she passed the surface tumult and entered the next level of this being's mind. There she found an incredibly complex personality. A man whose mind had been split at a young age in some way she couldn't discern. His original personality and a slightly altered one had merged at some point, she saw, but part of the true self, the original self, was kept hidden away, shielded tightly.
Intrigued, Sky gently rocked herself against the hidden recesses, mentally convincing the shield she was no threat until the barrier lowered and she slipped inside. She wished immediately she had left well enough alone. Inside the hidden core lay the heart of a child, shattered, irreparable. She found grief so overwhelming that she gasped and began to cry, deep, heartbroken sobs. She found anger so intense she thought it would consume her. And she found compassion, soft and soothing.
Who was this man? Who was this person of such sorrow who had dared to invade her privacy? Kell? No, she knew Kell's mental essence from the few times when they had first joined forces and she had accidentally entered his mind, evoking her promise to him that it would never happen again. No, this was someone else. Gently, carefully, she eased out of the depths of the mind, drifting slowly, with unthreatening movement toward the surface, sending her question out as she passed—"Who are you?"
Ranon.
The answer had come swiftly, freely, and Sky felt like a detective who has done a good job of investigation. It was an odd name, one she'd never heard before in all her travels. He was backing away from her, his mind feebly attempting to push her out of his thoughts again. She sensed his weakness and, alarmed, moved quickly upward, through the surface thoughts, breaking the top wave of mental activity like a swimmer. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Tears were drying on her cheeks. The man called Eagle sat beside her, his eyes wild, stricken with shock, his body frozen in place.
"You!" she whispered.
But how could it be? His name wasn't Ranon, it was Eagle—a ridiculous Terran bird name. And this man had no dark secrets, no gentle soul. He was Zarn's son and cut from the same cloth of duplicity and murderous greed as his father. But minds didn't lie, and his revealed he was a man of compassion, and perhaps honor. In any case, he definitely wasn't what he appeared to be. Mayla! If she had known she was inside Eagle's mind she could have looked for the information about her sister. Narrowing her eyes at the man who continued to stare at her, features glazed, immobile, she reached out for his mind again. With an anguished cry, Eagle threw himself backward, slamming himself first against the floor, then, stumbling to his feet, he ran into the wall, eyes wide, unseeing, incoherent. He slid to the floor just as Sky reached his side.
Cradling him in her arms, Sky lost no time in seeking to undo the damage she had done. She'd seen this before—mindshock. It happened when a person wasn't pre-pared for his thoughts to be probed, or when a person resisted violently to such a probe. She shouldn't have probed him, no matter if he had intruded into her privacy. Mindshock was something from which many people never recovered. If he didn't, he would remain in a catatonic state for the rest of his life—and she would have to live with the knowledge that it was her fault.
Sky closed her eyes and reached quickly, cleanly down into Eagle's mind once again, this time not infiltrating his thoughts in the slightest, but sending a soothing calm throughout his mind. As a healer she had an advantage over the general telepath. her thoughts could actually promote the repair of mental and physical damage. She seldom used this part of her power any more unless it was absolutely necessary. Mind healing was too intimate, too risky to the tough shield she kept around her emotions. But this time she had no choice. She flew through Eagle's mind, fi
nding the red-hot areas of fear and pain and distrust, wiping them away with her healing power, until at last she felt the paralyzation begin to leave him and his thought processes edge back toward normal.
Sky opened her eyes and looked down into those of the man she held. For a moment her gaze met that of a boy called Ranon, clear and clean and innocent, then something flickered in the green depths and the innocence disappeared to be replaced first with confusion, then anger, as the man called Eagle returned in full force.
"You mind-stealing bitch," he whispered, just before he passed out completely.
Chapter Five
He sat in a small room, in a huge chair from which wires and tubes protruded. No, the chair wasn't huge; he was small. His arms were bound to the leather by energy strips and his legs were in shackles as well. He screamed, but there was no sound, and he realized the screaming was trapped inside him; he was afraid to let the sound escape. A large helmet glided slowly downward toward him. It settled with a thud around his head, heavy, straining the fragile stem of his neck. Two men stood in the too-bright room, but his eyes were blurred by tears and he couldn't make out their features. A jolt of energy coursed through him, and the screaming stopped inside his head to be replaced by a numbing sensation. The light above him grew brighter and brighter until it encompassed him. Desperately he sought for a lifeline, something to hold on to before the light utterly consumed him.
There was a legendary bird, a noble creature that, it was said, once flew across the skies of Terra. His father had told him stories of how the creature had been used even in Andromedan literature to signify strength, honesty, and pride. Eagle had memorized an ancient quote from one of the books his father had researched. "Rise up, rise up on the wings of an eagle. You shall be weary no longer. You shall fly with courage and strength. "It was his favorite of all his father's stories.