“Believe what you will.” Ko’en shrugged as if he couldn’t care less. Which he probably didn’t. “We didn’t come here to aid you. We came for Va’ran.”
“It’s Varean.” He crossed his arms, pushing his shoulders back like he was daring them to take him. “What exactly do you want with me?”
“We would like you to come with us to a secure location. We can teach you about your abilities, how to access and use the shared consciousness of our people. We hope to find out exactly what it is about the mix of Mar’keish and Reidar DNA the aliens wanted to hide. We also believe you may be able to access the shared Reidar consciousness, something we’ve been aware of for a long time, but unable to exploit.”
“Wait. What do you mean shared consciousness?” Kira asked, mind skipping and landing on the recollection of Varean’s dreams he insisted seemed real, of people he didn’t know and places he’d never been, of hearing and speaking a language he said he didn’t understand.
“All Reidar share one pool of memory, intent, and will. An advanced hive mind. Humans are far less evolved, unable to successfully access theirs, yet it does exist. It is where both Mar’keish—and to an extent, Arynians, though they don’t comprehend it—draw their abilities. Humans have referred to this energy in the past as God, or a number of Gods. Some of your most famous personages in history were adept at manipulating a small portion of it to influence people and manifest their desires, though they were unaware and didn’t understand what they were doing. It is an energy that runs through us all, through every speck of matter in all galaxies. It is what keeps the multiverse together. A person who can access and wield this energy can manifest anything they desire. So, it can easily be misused.”
Wow… Just wow. She had no other words as her brain tried to make sense of a truth she felt in her soul was right.
“That’s totally nuts,” Zahli uttered, sounding about as bewildered as she felt, as they no doubt all felt, at their entire theological and spiritual beliefs being blown into the stratosphere.
“Nonetheless, it is the truth. Va’ran— Sorry, Varean. We became aware of you through this shared consciousness because you opened yourself up to your abilities. But it may not be long before the Reidar become cognizant of you in the same way. And I am not exaggerating when I tell you that they’ll stop at nothing to track you down and kill you. If you want to survive, we may be your only option.”
Kira glanced up at Varean, waiting for the inevitable screw you with some fancy expletives thrown in for good measure. Why were they here now? Why hadn’t they found Varean as a child, leaving him all alone in the foster system? But the harsh rejections weren’t forthcoming. In fact, Varean actually looked like he was considering their offer.
A hot burn of denial lit in her chest, but her mind was already telling her this was exactly the answer they needed to save him. She’d been worried that Rian would kill him when the truth came out, and there definitely wasn’t anyone in the universe Rian Sherron was afraid of, but maybe the prospect of taking on the mind-wraiths might at least make him hesitate. Besides, everyone thought the Mar’keish were long dead and gone, but they’d been successfully hiding for decades. If Varean needed to disappear, this was the way to do it.
“You should go with them.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d let herself think any more about it.
Varean speared her with a disbelieving look. “Just like that? No question of whether they’re who they claim or if I should trust them?”
“I think you already know the answer, Varean. And whether or not you can trust them has to come second to what’s best for you, especially in light of—” She swallowed, words deciding to abandon her.
“The fact that I’m half alien and a damn lot of people will probably want to kill me for it?” He finished for her. He glanced over at the waiting pair, then closed his eyes on a curse. When he focused on her again, maybe she was imagining it, but his eyes seemed more silver than blue. “You’re right, like always. My gut feeling is this is legit and probably my best chance at getting any answers. But is this it? Am I really supposed to just walk away?”
“We both knew this was coming today, one way or another.” She crossed her arms, pressing her wrists into her abdomen, wishing she could push back the ache rising up within her just as easily.
“Yeah, but not like this.” He shifted closer to her, leaving barely any space between them, though he didn’t touch her. “Not with you still in danger. I need to see you somewhere safe.”
God, why did he have to be so damned noble and wonderful? It only made things that much harder. Couldn’t he see that she wasn’t the one they needed to worry about?
“I am safe. I’ve got Lianna, Zahli, and Tannin.” She took a breath, calming her emotions. She had to make him go, because he’d never be safe anywhere else, and she wouldn’t be able to live with it if something happened to him because he was trying to protect her. So she pulled on the only armor she had. “I’ve done all I can for you. They’ll know more about your Mar’keish genetic makeup than I ever will. As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you go with them.”
Utter bewilderment crossed Varean’s face. “As my doctor? After everything, that’s what you’re reducing this to?”
Her stomach churned, but she stiffened her posture and called on every shred of professionalism she had. Maybe he was going to hate her for this, but at least he’d be safe.
“Yes, that’s what we were. I was your doctor; you were my patient. I crossed a line, took advantage of you. That was wrong of me when you were in a vulnerable position.”
“Vulnerable?” The disbelief in his voice almost made her wince, but she was determined not to react. “I might have been a lot of things, but I sure as hell wasn’t vulnerable.”
“Weren’t you?” She tipped her chin up slightly. “You said it yourself, you didn’t know how much longer you would be able to control the rage inside you, that you might be capable of hurting people. You were worried about hurting me.”
His lips pressed together, and she could tell the way his features hardened that—whether intended or not—she’d burned him, bringing up in front of the others the things he’d confided to her.
“Yeah, well clearly neither of us will need to worry about that any longer, will we?” He turned away from her, making her chest ache. “I thought you trusted me, even when I didn’t trust myself. Looks like my DNA wasn’t the only hard truth revealed with those tests.”
The hit landed a little too well, sending her resolve crumbling. She hadn’t meant to use his fears against him, it’d just been the first stupid thing that’d blurted out of her. Damn her impetuous need to always retreat behind her doctor’s mantle. She should have just told him straight out why he should go with them, why it was important to her.
But if he knew she cared so deeply, maybe he wouldn’t have been walking away from her so easily now. Too easily. Yes, she’d been trying to push him away, but an idiotic small part of her had wanted him to fight for them, not give up at the slightest resistance.
He had to go; it was the only way he would be safe, but after everything they’d been through, she couldn’t let him leave thinking that his heritage was the reason she’d pushed him to this.
“Varean, wait, I didn’t mean—” She started forward, but Lianna caught her arm and held her back.
“Good-bye, Kira.” Varean went to join Ko’en and La’thar where they stood by the lab doors, speaking in low tones with them.
“Let him go.” Zahli’s voice was soft, but held a note of sympathy. “It’s best for everyone.”
Varean glanced at her one last time, his expression blank and devoid of emotion, just like when she’d first seen him in the brig onboard the Imojenna. Without a word or even a wave, he turned away, following the two Mar’keish out of the lab and disappearing forever, leaving her with nothing but the hollow comfort that she’d done the right thing in pushing him away. Maybe he was hurting—maybe they were both hu
rting—but at least he’d be alive somewhere. She could live with that…or at least find some way to be okay with it one day.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how close the two of you had become,” Zahli murmured, no judgment in her tone, only empathy. She supposed Zahli knew a thing or two about falling for someone forbidden, since Rian had done everything in his power to keep her and Tannin apart when the ex-Erebus inmate and tech analyst had first come aboard.
“You’re better off without him,” Lianna put in, little compassion in her voice, as though getting over him should happen in exactly five seconds and there would be no need to cry into a pint of ice cream or steal a bottle of Rian’s Violaine to drown her sorrows in the most toxic way possible.
“Thanks,” she muttered. Lianna’s lack of empathy had worked in distracting her, after all.
Lianna sheathed her weapon and glanced around the lab, as though checking they weren’t about to leave anything behind. “Come on. Let’s get to Forbes. We’ve got four days on that skimmer to meet up with Rian and the rest of the crew.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Forbes
It had taken several days of going back and forth with the Swift Brion, but the shipment was organized, Zander overseeing the fit out of a larger shuttle to take the shipment.
Callan had spent hours forging the paperwork. However, uploading them into the IPC systems had proven complicated, so they’d commed Tannin, who talked them through it from the other skimmer. The rest of the crew had been traveling for a few days and hoping to join them by dawn. Which, by Rian’s estimation, was now less than an hour away.
Colt had flaked out on the couch in the front room a while ago, and though he’d been obviously curious and impatient to know what was really going on, the guy hadn’t demanded answers, contacting his brother without question when they’d needed him to.
He would have to tell Colt the full story before they parted ways, let the guy decide what he wanted to do with that bitch of a reality check, but for now he didn’t have the energy to give someone the monsters-in-the-dark-corners speech.
With the bedrooms taken up by Ella, Nyah, and Jensen, Callan had said he’d take the floor once he was finished double-checking his forged files, and while Rian wasn’t exactly in the mood for sleepy-time himself, he went to the front room where Colt was snoring and dropped himself in an armchair.
But he’d barely gotten his ass on the cushions when the stairs creaked softly, and a glance revealed Ella and Nyah coming down. The pair of them tended to be early-to-bed, early-to-rise like some kind of old-fashioned Puritans. So he wasn’t surprised that with dawn about to come, they were up for the day.
As the two of them went into the kitchen, Callan came out yawning, flopping into the armchair opposite him, and pressing the tab to recline.
“There’s something wrong with those two.” Callan yanked a frilly cushion out from beneath himself and tossed it, before settling back. “Don’t they know five a.m. is still the middle of the night?”
The scent of a generic black tea wafted from the kitchen, Ella and Nyah murmuring in quiet tones.
“They’d probably tell you it’s the best time to be doing all sorts of goody do-gooding things like baking and saving the damned.”
Callan gave a short laugh, kicking his boots up on the footrest. “If they’re planning on putting all those berries to use to make some muffins for breakfast, I’m not saying a word.”
Soft, hurried footfalls brought his attention back as the two women returned to the sitting room, tension in their postures, Nyah looking downright scared.
“There are two figures moving out in the yard just beyond the tree line in back.” Though Ella’s words were clipped, they had only the slightest hint of urgency. And if he hadn’t gotten to know her so well, he might have missed the shadow of worry behind her otherwise calm expression.
Rian leaned over and shook Colt awake. “We’ve got uninvited guests.”
Callan slid off the recliner, right hand gripping a still-sheathed gun. “I’ll head upstairs and get Jensen.”
He nodded. Callan staying stooped and moving off before he’d even finished agreeing.
Motioning Ella and Nyah over, he ordered them to get down behind the couch. While Colt strapped on the single gun and knife he had with him, Rian went low, scrunching his way over to the window and slitting the curtain slightly to look out into the gray pre-morning light. It took his eyes a second to adjust, but he counted four moving in the trees. Four more, or four altogether? There was no way to tell.
As he let the curtain slip back into place, he sensed Ella shifting up beside him.
“Rian, we need to get out of this house right now.”
Her expression was cast in shadows, but her eyes caught the faint light coming from the kitchen, and there was a definite gleam of alarm in her gaze. In fact, he could all but feel it rolling over his skin.
“There are at least four men out there. When Callan and Jensen get down here—”
“No.” She clamped a hand on his forearm, and a cutting sense of foreboding almost flayed his composure. Something was about to happen. “We need to leave. Now.”
He jerked a nod and caught Colt’s attention. His buddy gently took Nyah’s arm and brought her over.
“We’re going to make a break for it,” he said as they huddled in a group.
“Why? We’ve got a defensible position here, and once Callan and your mechanic get their asses down here—”
“There’s no time.” He glanced up the stairs, willing the other two to appear. What in the hell was taking them so long? “Trust me. We’re better off out there than we are in here.”
He unholstered one of his pulse pistols and handed it to Colt, then palmed his other two guns. “We’re going to face heavy fire, so be ready to shoot, and aim straight.”
Colt nodded grimly, tugging out his other gun. The two of them ushered the girls to the front door.
“On my count,” he said in a low voice that barely carried. “One… Two… Three.”
He yanked open the door and went out low, darting over to the verandah post and waiting a split second for the others to join him. They’d barely made it to his position before he was up again and leaping down the stairs, opening fire on the shadowy figures as a shout went up.
Hell, there were definitely more than four of the bastards, and whoever they were—he was betting Reidar, being the obvious answer—they didn’t hesitate in returning fire.
Nucleon blasts lit up the lavender-gray shrouded yard, spitting up dirt as they peppered too close to his feet. There was a squat stone wall another fifty yards to the right, and he cut at an angle to head for it, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the others followed.
A few short steps to go, and Colt cried out. As he paused, shoving Ella past him and propelling her toward the wall, a blast grazed his thigh just above his knee, sending him stumbling. But he didn’t stop running, instead reversing direction back to where Colt had gone down. He didn’t bother to check if his buddy was conscious or even alive, simply hauled him up over his shoulder like a sack of bricks and sprinted for where Ella and Nyah crouched behind the stone wall.
As he arrived and dropped Colt to the ground, a high whistle skimmed above them. His body reacted on instinct, the sound straight out of the wartime scars he never fully remembered, and he half ducked over Colt, pulling Ella against him before his mind even registered the sound of the low-intensity, compressed-ion antimatter missile. Once used as a kind of nuclear propulsion system, it hadn’t taken some genius long to retro-fit the tech into contained bombs with a small but effective blast radius for precision damage.
They were only a hundred yards or so away from the house and on the exposed side of the stone wall, and when the missile went up, a reverberating boom rumbled through the atmosphere.
There was no outward blast radius, only the residual heat as what remained of the structure exploded in flames.
He raised his he
ad, but only far enough to check on Colt. The guy had a chest wound the size of his fist, scorched around the margins and pumping blood out in rivers. If his buddy’s heart hadn’t already stopped beating from losing too much blood, it soon would.
“Ella.” He leaned over to where the priestess had shifted to comfort a sobbing Nyah.
She turned to him with a resolute nod, apparently not even needing him to tell her to heal Colt.
Rian got out of her way, quickly assessing his weapon situation. While he still had both of his guns, the power packs were down by about a third. Colt had lost the two he was carrying. Without Callan and his usual one-man-army arsenal—
He glanced back toward the blazing remains of the house. In the middle of the yard, there was a crumpled, smoking, blackened body. From the slighter build, it had to be Jensen, likely thrown clear when the blast had detonated, but most certainly dead. While there wasn’t a second body on the lawn, he had no doubt Callan had shared the same fate. When the fire burned itself out, they’d find the remains of the ship’s security specialist in the ruins.
Clenching his fists around the grip of both guns, he took a moment to let the anger burn harder and hotter than the flames dashing over the black skeleton of the building. Callan and Jensen had been integral to the crew—Sen because there wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix, and he kept the Imojenna’s engines running in peak condition with only the bare minimum in new parts and tools. As for Callan, he’d never met a tougher son of a bitch who hid his smarts so deep it had been kind of scary to think what he could be capable of when he set his mind to it.
When he got his ship back, it wouldn’t be the same stepping onto her decks without those two behind him.
The hot rage extinguished into ice-cold intent, and he shifted to the end of the wall, glancing out to assess the enemies’ positions. They were moving in, at least eight. With Jensen and Callan gone and Colt down, he wouldn’t be able to hold this ground for long.
“Ella, can you heal Colt, or is he already dead?” he asked without taking his eyes off the group swiftly closing in.
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