by Bonnie Vanak
At the hallway’s end, he opened a door and they walked outside into the sunshine. The yard resembled a bizarre jungle gym, with rope climbs, towers and equipment. A few men were fighting in hand-to-hand combat.
“Over there is the shoot house where we conduct live-fire training.”
She walked over to the monkey bars. Dallas gently clasped her wrist as she went to touch it.
“It’s electrified. Oh, not enough to kill,” he added, seeing her stunned expression. “Just enough to give you a good jolt.”
“You train with live current?”
“Every SEAL on ST 21 has to be prepared to encounter the unexpected. Both paranormal and normal human traps. Training with live-current conditions us to become impervious to it, but we have SEALs who can absorb the current into their bodies and use it to maximize their powers.”
Fascinating. In the distance, gunfire cracked and popped, making her jump. Dallas gestured to a target range. “Today we’re using regular ammo. Tomorrow is when we train with the heavy stuff.”
She didn’t want to ask about his idea of heavy.
They walked to a small concrete building. Dallas punched a few numbers on a keypad and opened the door.
There was a small area, like a holding cell, and a large door. Dallas flicked on a switch and opened the door to a large, concrete-lined room.
“Our new firestorm chamber.” Pride was evident in the junior lieutenant’s voice.
“May I?”
Keira walked inside the room. Senses tingling, she looked around. The walls were thick concrete, with blackened marks scorching the sides. She placed a palm on one wall and shuddered.
She turned to Dallas, who was standing with his hands folded behind his back.
“You use real fire?”
Admiration filled his voice. “Curt insists. He says just like we train with live ammo because the enemy won’t use blanks, we need to use real flames because demons won’t use stimulated ones.”
A shudder raced down her spine. “What kind of demons fight with flames?”
“Mostly pyrokinetic demons.” A shadow crossed his face. “But we sealed all of them in the netherworld. Bastards won’t be coming out anytime soon. Biggest threats are from minor demons or hybrids. Worst are the Igninus demons. They shift into inanimate objects, furniture, tables, even photos on your wall, and then attack when your back is turned.”
They continued the tour. In a gymnasium, men fought with various weapons. Dallas showed her the weapons the SEALs trained with. Not only regular navy issue, but also strange objects like pentagrams, throwing stars, spears and even a whip tipped with tiny sharp triangles.
“Looks like a torture chamber.” She laughed lightly.
Dallas picked up the whip. “We confiscated this from a rogue wizard using it to torture his apprentice.”
Keira touched one of the triangles, shuddering as she imagined the inflicted damage. Muscles knotted in her back as she thought of the pain the young apprentice suffered.
Seeing her expression, he added, “The boy suffered more emotional trauma than injury. The wizard would crack it behind his back as a threat.”
“So cruel.”
Dallas’s face tightened. “We’ve witnessed much worse.”
He nodded at a nearby dummy holding out a silver wand. He flicked his wrist and cracked the whip, slicing the wand in half.
“The wizard invented the whip to destroy his enemies, good magicians who threatened to expose him. We turned it into a weapon to disarm him without causing injury.”
“Works good if your target is standing still,” she murmured.
He gave her an amused look. “The dummy is for practice shots. We train on each other as active targets. It’s necessary because any rogue wizard holding the wand will be moving against us. And probably tossing energy bolts at us, as well.”
Revulsion coiled low in her stomach. “What if you miss?”
“We don’t, because we’re working as a team and we always watch each others’ sixes.”
Must be nice. She never had anyone working with her, or watching her back.
“What if one of you is having a bad day?” She thought of how nasty the Centurions could be, and when they got impatient, poured on the pressure, making her life even more hellish.
At his blank look, she explained. “What if you’re working with someone you dislike, or someone who has a problem with you? How can you trust him not to miss and hit your face?”
“We’re SEALs first, ma’am. We have to trust each other in training and down range.”
“Down range?”
“Deployment. I don’t get along with all the men on this team, but I sure do rely on them to do their job, and they rely on me to do mine.” He set the weapon neatly back on its peg.
“Gives a whole new meaning to whipping you guys into shape.”
Dallas did not smile. “Curt insists on our regular training as SEALs, and extra training as paranorms. Double duty, but we do it gladly because we know what we’re up against. The Phoenix Force is often a last resort, protection for civilians against the darkest evil.”
She felt deep awe at what these men did. And Dale commanded them all. Keira wistfully wondered what it would feel like to have the respect and devotion of a team that worked closely to protect others, instead of forming alliances to hurt them.
They concluded the tour at a small cafeteria with long tables and folding chairs. Dallas nodded. “I’ll leave you here, ma’am. Ensign Robyn Lees will be here soon to escort you to your next meeting. May I fetch you coffee?”
“Only if it’s hazelnut.”
The barest smile touched his mouth. “I do enjoy your special coffee, ma’am. We’re fresh out. But we do have regular.”
“I’ll make sure to send more over. Thanks, but I’m fine.”
She went to the counter and brushed a finger against it. So much responsibility and so many lives under Dale’s command. Keira began to understand his rigid need for order and discipline.
If he blinked wrong, or made a bad decision, not only did he put his men in jeopardy, but lives could also be lost. Many lives.
She thought of the blood spilled by the Centurions and imagined it multiplied by several hundred...no, several thousand.
Keira shuddered.
“Good morning, Miss Solomon.”
She startled and whirled to see a petite, freckle-faced woman clad in the standard khaki, short-sleeved uniform. “Whoa. I didn’t hear you come in. You’re quiet as a cat.”
“You could say. I’m Ensign Robyn Lees, here to escort you. Commander Curtis asked me to relay to you his wishes that you report to the infirmary before meeting with the admiral. He requests you take a blood test.”
“He does?” Anger spiked. “Still hasn’t given up on that one. You can tell him to kiss my...never mind. I’ll tell him myself.”
The ensign’s blue eyes twinkled. “Thought you’d say that. If you refuse, I’m requested to escort you to the conference room.”
They went back into the hallway. At the end, the ensign opened the door to a narrow room with a long, polished table and leather chairs. A large-screen television was at one end.
“Please wait here, ma’am.”
Catching her unique scent Keira smiled. “You’re the ensign who spoke to me on the phone the other day. Cat shifter.”
The ensign grinned. “Your recipe for coffee’s real good. Although I prefer milk to get started at oh-five-hundred.”
Keira laughed as the woman closed the door behind her. She sat at the elegant, polished conference table, tapping her fingers.
This was too easy. Dale was not the type to give up. Don’t want to take a blood test? No prob, just go to the conference room and await the admiral.
When the door opened, she half expected Dale to storm inside, a scowl on his face, demanding she hold out her arm.
Instead, a short, stocky man entered. Like the others, he wore a khaki uniform, but instead of close-cropped h
air, his fell below his collar.
Keira stood and pushed back her chair. “Where’s Dale? And the admiral?”
“Commander Curtis will be here soon.” The man smiled, but it didn’t meet his dark eyes. “I’m Petty Officer Thad Lennox.”
The scent of darkness and rich crimson slammed into her. “You’re a demon,” she said, backing up against the table.
He pushed back a lock of hair, exposing pointed ears. “Half demon and half Fae. But the good half of me is committed to serving my country, and fighting people like my father. He was a real piece of work.” Thad picked up a small, cylindrical object. It looked like a wand.
Or a probe.
Keira’s frantic gaze darted to the conference table. It had elongated, turning into a narrow metal slab, covered with disposable paper. Suddenly she realized shelves lined the walls, holding a variety of instruments and equipment.
Illusion. They used illusion to lure me inside, fooling me into thinking this was a meeting room.
Thad politely gestured to the exam table. “If you’ll please sit, this will only take a moment. It won’t hurt, I promise. But I must run some scans and examine you.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” she cried out.
“Just relax,” he murmured. “All I’m going to do is touch you, right here on the forehead....”
Panic surged, bright and hot. He’d know. And Dale would know, and in this compound, surrounded by paranormals trained to kill, she’d be dead in seconds. Self-preservation kicked in. Keira’s claws emerged and a snarl ripped from her throat. Lashing out, she caught the petty officer by surprise. Cloth tore and blood bubbled up from the furrows she’d carved into his upper right arm.
He didn’t even cry out, or glance at the wound, only stalked toward her with a determined look. Dimly she heard a door behind her open.
“Sir,” Thad said quietly. “Do it.”
Something stung her buttocks, sharp and piercing. Keira staggered, and looked back.
Dale stood behind her, pity tightening his expression. He plucked free the dart and tossed it aside.
Gray clouded the edges of her vision. She started to collapse and fell into his strong arms.
The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was his handsome face, and the coldness of his gray eyes.
Chapter 18
Thwock. Thwock.
The tennis ball banged against the far wall. Dale caught it in one hand.
At the hospital, they showed him tricks to cool down his anger and deal with frustration and strengthen the left hand, which had been weakened during the attack. Squeeze the tennis ball.
Instead, he’d tossed it at the wall and practiced catching it left-handed. The mindless routine soothed him.
Not today.
The ball landed in his sweating palm as a knock sounded on the door. “Come,” he said.
Thad entered, bearing several sheets of paper. He placed them in front of Dale and perched in a chair before his desk.
“She’s not a demon. But she has demon blood inside her.”
Thwock. The ball burst in Dale’s grip. He tossed it aside. “How?”
“I don’t know. It’s very dark and powerful. But it’s muted, as if she’s struggled to contain it.” Thad’s faced tightened. “Whoever she is, Curt, she’s not evil. But she’s tangled with some nasty creatures. My guess is they used her, and injected her with their blood to bend her to their will.”
“I don’t need guesses, Petty Officer. I need facts. Deal in facts.” Dale pushed aside the report and rubbed his face. “Is she a Luminaire?”
“Oh, hell, yeah. But Luminaires, anyone can claim to be one. A Luminaire is more a title than a species. Mostly Fae. They’re into white light and chanting and healing with crystals. But their magick is weak and usually ineffective unless combined with others. This one...”
“Her name is Keira.”
“Keira, she’s putting out powerful vibes. And claws.” He ruefully examined three jagged tears in his shirtsleeve. “Caught me by surprise. She could have gone for my throat, but I sensed she deliberately avoided it because she only wanted to defend herself. Animal instinct.”
Claws. Animal instinct.
Wolf.
Another memory pinged, sending a searing ache through his head. If only those damn Centurions hadn’t put a memory spell on him. Every time he thought he was getting close to answers, the memories became like mist. He needed to focus on the present and stay sharp.
“Answer my question, Petty Officer. To the best of your knowledge, what is she?”
“I honestly don’t know. But she’s very strong and there’s a deep well of courage running through her. Whatever she’s endured, she’s fought it hard and long and it hasn’t overtaken her.” A small smile touched his thin mouth. “Make a hell of a SEAL, sir.”
“How is Keira?”
“Still unconscious, but resting comfortably in the infirmary. Do you want to see her?”
Dale shook his head. “When she wakes, have her escorted to my office by Ensign Sully.”
Surprise flared on the half demon’s face. “Yes, sir.”
When the man left, Dale leaned back in his leather chair. Had to handle this with the utmost sensitivity and diplomacy. Rushing to sick bay to offer comfort would put him on the defensive, and weaken his position before his men. Here on base, he must maintain command.
The man in him wanted to comfort her with assurances and seek understanding.
The military commander knew he must maintain a rigid posture to keep his people protected.
He’d done the unforgivable. Broken her trust.
Dale rubbed a hand over his face. He hoped she would understand, and eventually forgive him.
But even if she did, he knew it would be a long time before he forgave himself.
* * *
Cold and darkness surrounded her. Keira moaned, thrusting out with her hands to survey her surroundings. The cell was damp and noxious, filled with the stench of dried blood. A pencil-thin shaft of sunshine speared the gloom, falling on the concrete floor. Crab-crawling over to it, she huddled in the tiny beam, desperate for light, for warmth. And then she saw her hands and realized the stench came from her—her hands were covered in someone else’s blood.
A startled scream tore from her throat. She bolted upright.
Only to find herself lying on a narrow, but comfortable bed, a warm blanket covering her. A counter filled with instruments and a small sink was across from the bed.
She put a hand to her pounding skull. A sick room.
The door opened and cheerful, impulsive Sully walked in. But no wide grin touched his face. He looked as rigid and stiff as his teammate, Dallas.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” Sully had morphed into a stranger. Ensign Sully, whose loyalty came first to his commanding officer.
His rat-bastard, sneaky commanding officer.
Grief clogged her throat. Keira tossed aside the blanket and stood on wobbly legs, pushing aside his hand as he sprang to help. “I’m fantastic. Get me the hell out of here.”
The barest emotion flicked in his eyes, then vanished. “I apologize, ma’am, but Commander Curtis has requested your presence in his office.”
“Oh?” She smoothed down her floral skirt with a trembling hand. “You can tell your Commander Curtis he can go to hell. I’ll give him a first-class ticket.”
Now his lips did quirk. “Can’t do that, ma’am. Please, come with me.”
No prob. She knew her way out.
As they entered the hallway, she bolted, running for the thick steel door standing between her and freedom. She didn’t want Dale’s explanations or having him poke her with needles or probes.
The door was in sight, so close, the handle near.
Two strong hands pulled her back. Whipping her head around, she saw Dallas on one side, Sully on the other.
“Miss Solomon, please come with us,” Dallas said tersely.
Screw this. Summoning
all her wolf strength, she flung them off and ran for the door. The handle was in her grasp. Keira jiggled it. It did not move. Panic surged, bright and hot. She was trapped, caught in an endless nightmare where they’d force her to do nasty things, force her to their will....
Two hands caught her upper arms and started to pull her back. Keira screamed and held on to the door handle. Solid steel splintered, and snapped off.
“Stop it, you morons.”
The men let go. Keira whirled, holding the door handle like a weapon.
Ensign Robyn Lees stood in the hallway, scowling at the SEALs. “Is this any way to treat the commander’s guest?”
“He ordered us to bring her to his office ASAP. And not let her escape.” But Sully looked shamefaced.
“She broke the door handle. The goddamn door handle.” Wonder and respect flared on Dallas’s face, turning him from a military robot into something human.
“And you’re lucky she didn’t break your neck or claw you like she did Thad, the way you two have been manhandling her. Have you ever heard of finesse? No, you’re too busy blowing stuff up and jumping out of planes. Stand down, both of you.”
As Dallas and Sully stepped back, Ensign Lees held out a freckled hand. “Miss Solomon? Please, will you come with me? It’s okay. I promise you’ll be fine.”
The warm assurance in the woman’s voice eased Keira’s fears. Swallowing hard, she took the ensign’s hand.
The woman removed the door handle from Keira’s death grip and slapped it into Dallas’s hand. “Get maintenance here ASAP to fix that door.”
As they walked down the hallway, the ensign squeezed her hand. “Don’t mind them. They’re good men, just overbearing at times when Commander Curtis issues a strict order.”
“They listen to you.”
“Have to. I’m the team’s communications expert. When they’re down range, I coordinate getting all the supplies the team needs to do their job.”
The officer glanced at Keira’s right arm, where the sweater had ridden up, exposing her upper arm. “That’s a slave armband.”
Keira’s guts squeezed. “How did you know, Ensign?”