Skhye Moncrief - [Feral 01]

by Feral Fascinations (lit)

  The door whooshed shut.

  Only the commander faced Jake.

  Surely a man could speak freely.

  Time for a heart-to-heart talk. “I want to know who did this.”

  “As I.” Goro thrust his hands behind his back beneath his black cape and paced from the light’s cone into shadow.

  Not one weapon graced the commander’s outfit. What did he fight with? Could Goro have attacked Kindrist?

  “I don’t think you did this.” Goro announced. “Sevra does. But she’s heard my accusation and departed. You and I will discuss the situation now.”

  Why would Sevra point the finger at me? “The balls of her to speak such an accusation where I’m not privy to the discussion.” But who did Goro suspect? “What do you believe?”

  Goro paced back into the light. His gaze studied the floor where his boots connected with the clean metal sheeting underneath each of his almost-silent footsteps. “I need proof to invade her thoughts. Something incriminating, Straightarrow. We’ve never been able to single her out with blame. But your intuition is confirming my suspicions.” He turned a speculative brow to Jake. “Maybe on the planet? Maybe, you can uncover something,” he almost whispered.

  “Doesn’t it look suspicious that you’re speaking to me alone in here?”

  He shrugged. “Call it interrogation. The commander has the right to investigate in the manner he deems appropriate. Minus mind reading, mind you.” Goro winked. “I’ve earned my rank. I can question you in private if I so choose.”

  So, I’m the forward observer with a ten-second life expectancy on Gameddaron’s battlefield because Goro’s earned the right to pierce me with a skewer and prop me up over his flames. “Great. You’re sending me in with Tweedle Dumb. And I’m supposed to find something to peg his wife with Kindrist’s condition. I don’t know anything about you people. How can I tell what’s incriminating?”

  “Go with your gut.”

  “Truth be known, my gut may appear to but truly can’t cover my unarmed ass.” Especially with were-Paul out to shred it. “You can take a moment now to prove you have faith in my allegiance by outfitting me with some weapons to use against psychics to protect my wife, child, and ever-so-precious unique blood.”

  A small smile twisted Goro’s lips, and he nodded. “I’ll help you pick the best weapons aboard. But there isn’t much you can do to shelter your activities from a remote viewer’s prying. And even now, Paul could be observing our discussion. But he’d have to do so in the corridor. I doubt he’d risk being caught remote viewing on the commander’s private discussion out in the passageway.”

  * * * *

  The armory wasn’t what Jake expected. Forget an unending supply of big fancy metal gizmos to point at bastards and sharp projectiles to mentally hurl at enemies with the finesse of a ticked-off psychic. Especially one ticked-off guy with a hard-on whose hot-ass babe was lying in the infirmary. But standing in the center of the small room’s three tall lockers lining one wall, he suddenly began to feel extremely empowered. “This is it?”

  Goro opened the closest squeaking door. “Knives prove the favored weapon of psychics. No matter how close an attacker gets, you can still use a sharp edge for defense.”

  Amen. But why bother with explanations? Just give me a damned weapon. He studied the bins of various blades in the cabinet.

  “Take whatever makes you feel comfortable,” Goro said. “I wouldn’t want a crewman heading out suffering from a debilitating sense of vulnerability.”

  Gee. Nothing like raw reality following you around chanting like a sentient shadow. He grabbed two small knives and one wielding a seven-inch sparking blade.

  “We’ve collected a store of torches and other archaic devices stashed away in the next locker.” Goro opened the second squeaking door.

  Brutally piercing squeak, that is. How strange to hear such a caustic noise on such a quiet ship.

  The hidden metal boxes held a large store of torches just like Sevra’s. But what would people think of a new recruit who fancied one? Weakness? He slid his gaze to Goro’s. “Do you think I’ll need a torch to fight off wolf-dog Paul?”

  Goro didn’t wince at the shape-shifting assessment. “I’ve never been in were-form, Straightarrow. I can only tell you that he thinks I’m watching you for any mistake you make here or in the field. I doubt he’ll turn on you. If he’s working for Voldon, he’ll want his allegiance to remain hidden.”

  Interesting double play. Sounds like Goro was The Seeker’s master manipulator. Someone attacked Kindrist. Everyone was guilty. Including master manipulators. Better to feign acceptance than appear fully aware of anybody’s game. He studied a pile of metal stars and a few bins of what appeared to be good old-fashioned grenades. “I’m not telekinetic. I think I’ll pass on those.” He turned to the attentive Goro. “What else do you have? Any laser-beam weapons? Or something I’ve never imagined? Something so incredible I just can’t pass up the opportunity to test it on Paul.”

  Goro wagged his head. “Psychics find weapons cumbersome. We rely on our brains.”

  Not bad when some guys operate on a higher level for survival. Something tells me Paul’s number will be up soon. Especially when his wife isn’t around to save him with her magic torch.

  Goro studied my every move.

  With the finesse of a master manipulator determined to win this round of chess. Too bad I have no intention of being his pawn. Could the commander detect my smugness in my body language though? Time to grumble some predictable fears for camouflage. “Easy to say when your more-evolved psychic powers cover your ass.”

  The commander chuckled softly. “That’s why we started relying upon were-assassins. You can shape shift into a powerful creature that only a torch or very good aim can outwit. Not that your beastly brain will be smarter. But the animal inside us all operates in survival mode. No more Beast Tamers for you until after you return from your mission.”

  Just chunk control out the windowless pod fighter and pretend to be a happy peon. “I’ve been dying to shape shift.”

  “Success lies in your timing. But fear will be your demise.”

  Crap. The boss didn’t buy my little white lie. Jake turned to meet the commander’s serious gaze. “Paul’s the guy with fears. Me, I’m here to protect my wife and child. Even if that means having to kill a commander who had every opportunity to attack my wife.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Goro nodded and bullied forward like a calm priest fingering prayer beads while spouting religious jargon. “You think beyond the moment. You assess every aspect of a situation. But know I too have yet to shape shift. I understand the initiate’s thoughts vacillate between curiosity, trepidation, and exhilaration. Know I sense your capacity to channel your reasoning, focusing in were-form, success in righting the wrongs in your eyes.” Goro quieted, staring at Jake.

  As if I was supposed to agree with his mantra. What about flying back to my home base? “Does my pod fighter understand my growls?”

  “You’re allowed to take some of your mate’s blood along to inject yourself with once you feel you’re safely on your way home. Until then, become one with your inner beast.”

  Why do I have the sudden urge to light incense and chant? Or was Goro just playing games with more than two people aboard The Seeker? The man offered weapons like candy. And parents always told their children to beware of strangers bearing candy. Maybe this private pep rally was really a way for Goro to isolate Kindrist to ensure he got to kill her. “I’d feel better about going if we waited until Kindrist came around.” After all, it didn’t look like she could count on the commander for protection.

  Goro’s head tilted thoughtfully. His orange gaze assessed Jake with the scrutiny of a seasoned field marshal. “I’ve safeguarded her for fourteen years before your arrival, Straightarrow. Voldon is the enemy. We must take out his forces and push back his veil of darkness. Yet, I am happy to see you’re worried about her well-being.” He waved at
the door. “Let us go now and check to see if she has awakened. But I will ask you to be defensive and angry. Play the part of the man who has been tied to the pyre with the torch about to light the wood at his feet. If anyone overhears anything we say, I want them to think you distrust me.”

  Easy. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. Who knew what went down with the commander pulling everyone’s strings.

  * * * *

  Kindrist couldn’t open her eyes where she lay upon a thin cushion that didn’t shield her from the underlying hard surface.

  Flames spiked up her side.

  Brutal fire trying to light the air in her lungs.

  Why the burning pain? She tried to move her arm, to feel what caused the searing sensation in her ribs.

  “Her hair just flared red. She’s regaining consciousness,” a man said.

  Voices? Tones drenched with angst. Words spoken by lips. My mate. And Jake sounded anything but pleased.

  “So, you send me off to study with Paul. While I’m away, my wife is attacked. Now, you expect me to believe you’re beyond suspicion? I’m supposed to head out to Gameddaron and take out a fortress with Tweedle Dumb? You want me to swallow this, Goro?”

  “Do it for your people. Save earth for posterity’s sake.”

  Yes, she had been attacked in her quarters. Another battle was brewing around her now. Provoking Jake probably wasn’t Goro’s best move. But Goro was chosen commander for a reason. And Jake wouldn’t attack a woman carrying his child. Not the man she had chosen for holy matrimony. Betrayal wasn’t part of Jake’s vocabulary. Even if he only was loyal to his child. Goro had to know. She opened her eyes.

  Okay, tried to. Her body didn’t want to respond. She rocked her head against the slick grinding surface beneath her.

  The movement shook her eyelids loose.

  Bright white light stabbed into her brain.

  The medical bay’s examination light. She squinted.

  A dark form leaned overhead blocking the light.

  “How do you feel?” Jake asked.

  Damned the stars, she couldn’t move her lips. She studied his dark glinting gaze.

  Anger danced like sparkling stars promising revenge inside her mate’s eyes.

  Jake shot a glare over his shoulder at Goro. “Damn it. I leave her, by your orders, and look what happened.”

  Goro’s defensive stare didn’t flinch.

  Both of these guiltless men debating over each other’s innocence only wasted valuable time. Voldon’s thug had infiltrated their ship. She had to speak. To stop this ridiculous bickering. She tried to move her lips again.

  Jake just hovered. “Her eyes are still yellow. That means she hasn’t miscarried. Right?”

  “Yes,” Goro replied in his familiar calm manner.

  Blessed Devros, for the sign that Jake cared for our child.

  Jake searched her eyes. “Who did this to you, Kindrist?”

  The caring in his voice was worth the searing pain wrapping around her side.

  He cared.

  What else could she ask for? But who had injured her? Who had risked the loss of a legendary child who could save the free-thinking universe?

  Jake’s warm hand gently landed on her forehead and smoothed the hair down the side of her head. “Tell me who did this, Kindrist.”

  She tried to move her lips again.

  Nothing. Time to speak with Goro. She forced her thoughts out, reaching to the commander’s mind.

  “Welcome back, Kindrist,” Goro said in mindspeak.

  He shoved up next to her opposite Jake on the other side of the medical table.

  Jake scowled at Goro.

  Goro focused upon her, leaning against Jake’s knuckles. “Tell me the identity of your attacker.”

  Sharp pain shafted through her chest with his command.

  The room’s shadows began spinning.

  Lights whirled overhead.

  Jake’s torso swirled into a dark smear.

  A wave of nausea tried to choke her last breath away.

  She closed her eyes, trying to block the whirling scenery.

  “Kindrist, you must tell me,” Goro insisted.

  If she didn’t clear up the confusion, Jake would have more trouble than if she just gave into the need to sleep. She grabbed cool leather, Goro’s sleeve, opened her eyes, leaned up toward her commander, willing his eyes to meet her gaze, and she forced her thoughts to reach him. “It wasn’t Jake.”

  The world went black.

  * * * *

  Damn it all to Hell. Jake yanked his knuckles clear of the comedy playing out before him. If Kindrist would only talk to Goro, this was one mixed-up marriage. A union I have no desire to participate in. He shoved off from the table, away from his unconscious wife, and stepped back.

  Where could a guy get a nice shot of his mate’s blood? This damned woody is getting on my nerves. And Kindrist can’t do anything about the pressure.

  Goro turned to him. “She’s unconscious again. Yet, she told me that you didn’t attack her.”

  Nice of her to cover my ass. How about honey it’s good to see you? “What did she say about you? Or can I believe anything you say?”

  Goro shook his head and thrust some fingers up to scratch the bald shining scalp above his ear.

  The robust man finally looked bewildered.

  “I don’t know, Straightarrow.” He turned to Jake. “I’ve got as much to lose as she does. Maybe more. We’re talking about my reputation. I’m a man of honor. Kindrist said you were too. I assumed I could trust you.”

  Fantastic. Kick me in the balls.

  After all, men-for-hire like cops and military special-ops guys had balls of steel. But how was this scenario any different than any other? A mercenary took orders. Mopped the floor for another chance to snatch a bone beneath the table. Why should life in outer space differ from home? Hell, if all they wanted is my semen and some blood, that’s what I’ll give them. He searched the shadows for signs of items to extract his own blood.

  The medical bay was as fricking difficult to locate things as in personal quarters.

  “What are you searching for?” Goro asked.

  Truth? Reason? A needle. “I’m going to draw my blood. Leave it for Kindrist.”

  “I see.” Goro’s footsteps creaked until he came into view and pushed an invisible button on a dark wall. A moment passed before the commander handed over a needle and plastic tubing to Jake.

  Talk about easy.

  Goro’s gaze met Jake’s. “Take some of Kindrist’s for yourself. I want you back here. I know The Cause needs you. And I need a mercenary I can rely upon.”

  Shit. The man could talk a bird out of a tree. But who could be trusted in this game of pawns? Not to mention, how in the Hell can I leave my child here in this three-ring circus and go to Gameddaron?

  Chapter Twenty

  Heading toward the low coffin form of his featureless pod fighter, Jake patted the metallic syringe containing Kindrist’s blood stored inside a pouch beneath his T-shirt and warm leather of his standard-wear psychic-mercenary jacket. Maybe survival had got the better of him. He’d opted to go with the general theme in black leather if only to save his hide from chaffing or bizarre alien biting insects. Who knew what could come of flying low in a personal fighter?

  A tremor shook him.

  Just another damned indication I’m a blood fucker. A couple hours remain between me meeting my inner beast.

  “Wait up, Straightarrow.”

  Tweedle Dee’s voice yelled behind him. Just chaos insisting on accompanying me to the planet. He turned to the tall gawky computer geek’s grin.

  Yep. Dufus. Ten seconds and all would be over with the-Paul-kind-of forward observer tagging along. Time to crawl into my crypt and shape shift into the zombie these psychics have been dreaming of. Was that even the type of husband Kindrist wanted? A soul-less blood fucker devoid of morals and any personal spark left to make him unique?

  A chill skittered do
wn his spine.

  Not the standard tickling fear. My gooseflesh merely insisted I was going to shape shift this time. Rather, die because who in the Hell knew what would come of the loss of control. Hopefully, Kindrist had enough blood to tie her over until after the baby was born.

  Paul caught up with Jake and waved toward the pod fighters. “Up, up, and away.”

  Where’s the idiot’s rainbow-colored balloon? “Let’s blow up a fortress.” Adding returning in one piece seemed redundant. Returning at all began sounding like a pipe dream.

  Why come back?

  Why care?

  Because an asshole tyrant needed splattering and fools needed to be flushed out from the universe’s underbrush. Even if the fool proved to be the less-likely suspect, Goro. He touched the pod-fighter’s secret invisible button.

  The hatch magically appeared and shifted open with a mechanical sigh.

  Wouldn’t life become ridiculously nuts if the events over the next few days revealed the commander was behind Kindrist’s attack? After all, Kindrist’s frustration with his choice in saving the Mawshwuc might hint at where Goro’s heart truly sided. Was the commander working for Voldon? And they fancy me a loose cannon? He gulped down a chuckle.

  Little did they expect me to stick to my morals. Only when Voldon’s last breath wafted skyward and his forces regained their ability to think for themselves would the universe offer a safe place for my child to live. Legend spinning a tall cup of neon truth or not. He thrust his boots into the dark recesses of the pod-fighter’s interior.

  Just tucking myself in for death.

  The hatch slid shut.

  Absolute darkness settled in around him.

  Yep, death. What a transformation.

  “Identify yourself,” the computer said in her perky formal English.

  “Thunderbird.”

  The soft lights flickered on, snuffing the tomb ambiance, and the star fighter trembled to life.

  Kind of strange for the moment of death. Time to fly like an eagle on my death train. He fingered the syringe of Kindrist’s blood in the pocket of his jeans. So, they need a were-wolf to do their dirty work. Getting down and dirty sounded better with Kindrist’s curves sliding across his chest.