by Ivy Barrett
After archiving the readouts, Andrea turned off the screen. “They’ve integrated themselves into every system in her body. Shutting them down now would likely kill her.”
“Is she always this blunt?” he asked Lorelle.
“It’s one of the things I used to like about her.” Lorelle turned back to Andrea and asked, “What’s our plan of action?”
“The nanites need to be reprogrammed, given an accurate template of human physiology.” Andrea sighed and buried her hands in her lab coat. “I can construct the template, but the actual interface is beyond my capabilities.”
“Then I’m fucked?” Lorelle whispered.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re far too polite.” Lorelle raked her hair with her fingers, her hand trembling.
Mal Ton pulled her into his arms and stroked the back of her hair. There was no way he was going to lose her now. There was simply no way!
“If we do nothing, will the nanites kill me or just morph me into a Stilox?” Lorelle turned within the circle of his arms so she could look at Andrea.
“I don’t know.”
Three words you never want to hear from your doctor.
“Then who would know?” Lorelle’s voice was shaking again.
“A nanobiologist.”
“Like Cassie Myer.” Mal Ton shot Roark a meaningful look.
“Who is Cassie Myer?” Andrea asked.
“Chancellor Howyn’s daughter,” Roark told her.
“No Protarian is going to help us.” Andrea shook her head, but determination burned within her eyes. “We have nothing to offer them.”
“She’ll help us or die,” Mal Ton snapped. He exhaled a ragged breath then turned Lorelle to face him. “I need to talk to Fane. Will you be all right for a few minutes?”
“I’m not a child.” Her chin came up and her shoulders squared. “And this is hardly the first time I’ve faced the possibility of dying. Go. Talk to Fane. I’ll be here when you get back.”
* * *
Fane knelt on the padded mat in his private chamber in the Mutant Underground. His surroundings were sparse and austere, nearly void of material belongings. Naked to the waist and barefoot, he extended his hands toward the fire. Heat infused his palms and caressed his chest. He inhaled deeply. Wood smoke stung his nostrils while the spicy-sweet scent of incense soothed and relaxed him.
Turning his focus inward, he tuned out each muffled noise and visual distraction. The Underground never slept. Someone was always checking in or heading out. So many paths intersected here, so many lives hung in the balance.
Images formed within his mind, faces and situations. Frightened humans in need of rescue, sickly mutants with nowhere else to turn, refugees determined to find a better life. They all turned to him with expectation in their eyes. He accepted their importance and acknowledged the danger inherent in helping them. Then he pushed through the images and unleashed his consciousness.
The metaphysical plane opened before him, rippling outward with waves of psychic energy.
Cassie. Deep in his heart he’d known their paths would cross again. She’d affected him too deeply and leaving her had hurt too badly for any other outcome to make sense. Still, he hadn’t expected the circumstances facilitating their reunion.
It shouldn’t have surprised him that the war would weave their lives back together. The eternal conflict curved and tangled through every aspect of his life. Chancellor Howyn dangled the human captives before him, taunting and challenging him. All Fane had to do was rescue Cassie and Howyn would… He inhaled slowly, pushing back his rambling thoughts. The reason he needed to find her was incidental. All that mattered was that he didn’t fail.
To locate her in the present, he turned toward the past, following the heated trail of their desire. The path was familiar. Often over the past three years he’d sought solace in these memories, needing a comfort unattainable in reality.
Her image arose, golden hair framing her delicate features, rosy lips parted in a smile. How he missed her! How he longed to touch her and hear her whisper his name. Regret panged within his heart. She’d never known his name, at least not his real name.
Focus! He had to control his emotions or he would never be able to identify her signal.
He paused, allowing energy to flow through him and swirl around him. Layer by layer his individuality was stripped away. No past, no future, just the elemental present shared by all things. His soul took on the rhythm of the universe, pulsing and expanding as he surrendered to the tingling rush.
For endless moments he hung suspended in space and time. All he felt was the fundamental throb of energy. Then he opened his mind, gradually, carefully.
Like the subtle buzz of a distant swarm, thoughts approached him. He braced for the impact while remaining accessible. Personality strands thrust into his mind, streaming through him like the gush of a storm-swollen river. Those closest to him arrived first, friends and their families. He sorted the signals, filtering the overwhelming torrent with the skill only attainable through decades of training and centuries of practice.
He released his stranglehold on his emotions and waited for the metaphysical plane to respond. The current focused, curling in on itself until one concentrated jet pelted his being. Longing swelled within him, guiding him through the dizzying flow.
An image formed within the energy stream, the scene achingly familiar. He stood with Cassie beside a simple hotel bed, their clothes scattered on the floor. They were beyond words, beyond caring about expectations or consequences. She pressed against him eagerly, her mouth open and responsive.
He sank into the memory, immersing himself in the longing. His pulse sped and his body stirred. No one ever moved him as deeply as Cassie, and no one ever would. This was the last time they’d made love, the image that haunted his dreams and fueled his fantasies. It was one night before she’d taken him to her apartment. One night before he broke her heart.
His tongue stroked over hers, his hands lost in her soft hair. She parted her thighs and bent her knee, curving her calf around his hip. “I’d swear you’re a sorcerer,” she whispered against his kiss-dampened lips. “I’ve never felt like this before.”
Possessive desire washed over him in one sustained wave. Without tightening his grip on her hair, he drew her nearer. “If I’m a sorcerer, does that mean you’ll do whatever I say?”
She smiled into his eyes as she rubbed her nipples against his chest. “Ask me to do something and find out.”
“I want your ass nice and pink while you suck my cock.” Lust stabbed into his groin. His impatience to be inside her had prevented her from tasting him the night before. She’d offered, had even objected when he’d rushed on ahead. “Lean over the bed, but don’t bend your knees.”
“You ask and I obey.” She turned toward the bed and bent over, resting her forearms on the faded bedspread.
Guilt squeezed his heart now as it had then. She deserved so much better than this. Refusing to let anything distract him, Fane focused on the image, let the intensity build, fueling his abilities. This wasn’t about sex, or how deeply she’d affected him. He was trying to save her life.
In the memory, he paused to admire her round white ass, loving the lush curves and velvet-soft skin. Her curves felt so good pressed against him as he drove his cock into her pussy.
She moved her legs further apart without having to be told, offering herself for whatever he chose to give her. He rewarded her surrender with a firm swat on each naked cheek. She gasped then sighed, clearly needing the exchange as much as he did. He spanked her again, a bit harder this time, and watched color rise to the surface of her perfect skin. She was so fair, so soft, he had to be careful not to bruise her, while he skillfully ignited her senses.
Over and over he brought his hand down on her willing ass. Liquid arousal trickled from her slit, making her folds slick and inviting. He loved to finish spanking her with his
fingers buried in her cunt, but he had something different in mind for tonight, something darker, more elemental. He needed to fill her mouth with cum, then take her from behind while his fingers fucked her ass. He’d claim every part of her, fill her so completely that she would never doubt to whom she belonged.
He gave her one last spank, then helped her up off the bed and kissed her roughly, deeply, indicating the depths of his need. When he finally released her mouth, he said, “On your knees.”
With mischief shining in her eyes, she sank to her knees. Her warm fingers curved around his shaft and she stroked him from root to tip, her gaze never leaving his face.
Lulled by the sweet temptation, Fane nearly forgot the reason for his vision. This was not about reliving the past. He must locate her in the present. Her soft lips closed around the tip of his cock and Fane moaned. Anchored by the memory, he turned his focus outward, scanning, seeking the familiar pattern of her energy. Her mouth slid up and down his length while her hand cradled his balls. He absorbed the pleasure, empowering his gift with greater range.
Her tongue swirled and her being opened, allowing him beyond her instinctive defenses.
Oh, my God! Shock and fear rippled back across the metaphysical plane. How are you doing this? Get out of my mind!
Cassie, don’t fight me. I’m trying to help you.
The link shuddered violently as she resisted the connection. He wasn’t sure how she’d dissolved his mental command three years before, but he couldn’t allow her stubbornness now. Her life depended on his success. He pushed harder, dragging her deeper into the shared memory.
If you’re trying to help me, why are you picturing me… like that?
Carefully maintaining his link with her mind, he let the image slip back into the past. I had to use a shared experience in order to connect with your consciousness. Please, don’t fight me. This connection was not easy to establish.
I know who you are, Fane! It took me almost a year, but I uncovered everything.
We’ll talk about all that as soon as we get you away from Max. Do you have any idea where you are?
She took a long time to reply. Fane was just about to prompt her when he heard, We’re somewhere on Stilox, an abandoned lab of some sort.
Has he harmed you?
Not yet.
Her fear surged and Fane’s hands clenched into fists. Too many had lost their lives in this bloody war. He would not allow Cassie to be added to the list of casualties! I’ll be there just as soon as I can.
Please hurry. Teleporting off-world wiped him out. I’m not sure how long it will take him to recover.
* * *
Cassie drew her legs up toward her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her senses hummed with an uncomfortable combination of anxiety and anticipation. She sat huddled in one corner of a small room adjacent to the abandoned lab. The only furniture remaining was a ratty couch and a set of shelves affixed to the wall. Her captor had locked them inside the stale-smelling room then collapsed on the couch. She knew him as Daniel Keller, but Fane had called him Max.
Max, leader of a group of bloodthirsty fanatics. Max, equally hated by the Protarian elite and the Mutant Underground. It was all so confusing. Daniel Keller had faithfully supported her father for years. How could Daniel and Max be one and the same?
His name was irrelevant. She gave herself a mental shake. His motivation, however, was not. He’d said nothing when he abducted her other than warning her not to struggle. She’d ignored the warning, of course, and bruises from the ensuing tussle marred her arms and upper chest.
She’d known Daniel Keller for years, long before his mutations began to manifest. He never spoke of his abilities, tried to downplay the changes. She’d had no idea he could teleport off-world, which was obviously the way he’d wanted it.
All of her other questions would have to wait until he regained consciousness. Knowing help was on the way allowed her to exhale, if not relax. Keller was obviously unbalanced and—no, Max. Kidnapping her had definitely been the actions of a desperate rebel, not her father’s trusted employee. She was dealing with Max.
With the name issue settled in her mind, she reluctantly returned to the other mystery. Fane had resided in her imagination, a nameless lover drifting through her dreams. Then she learned his name and understood the implications. Theirs had been no chance encounter. He’d ruthlessly seduced her for… She wasn’t sure what he’d gained. Information? She might be Chancellor Howyn’s daughter, but her father never told her anything important.
She hadn’t confided in her father or anyone else. That would have revealed how foolish she’d been, how trusting and naive. She told her father she suspected someone had hacked into her home computer during the power outage. He reset the security protocols and that was the end of her adventure. At least on the surface. Secretly she’d fixated on Fane, oscillating between hate and lust until his memory tainted every relationship she attempted to establish. This reunion was long overdue!
How had Fane known she’d been abducted? Why was her father allowing his involvement, or did her father know Fane intended to intervene?
Pushing to her feet, she crossed to the door and tried the latch for the second time. Was Fane still on Protaria? She glanced at Max and shivered. A lot could happen while Fane shuttled over to Stilox. She tapped her knuckles against the window centered in the door. Even if she managed to smash it, the opening was too small to crawl through. The lab beyond had been stripped of anything functional, so why had Max brought her here?
“I don’t think you’ll fit.” Max’s voice sounded thin and tense despite his attempt at humor.
“I’d come to the same conclusion.” She took a deep breath and turned around. He was more or less sitting now, back slumped, feet lowered to the floor. His face was pale, dark smudges shadowing his green eyes. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Direct as always.” He adjusted his position, sitting a bit straighter than before. “I need your help, Cassie. Every time I teleport, I get weaker.”
“So don’t teleport.”
He scooted to the edge of the couch and a calculative gleam erupted in his gaze. Even with fatigue etched on his handsome features, he looked elegant and composed. “I know about your new project and I’m willing to be your first test subject. Nothing else I’ve tried has had any effect.”
“The new series isn’t ready for human trials, and even if it were, I won’t cooperate with a criminal.” She folded her arms over her chest. This didn’t make sense. “Everything I need to help you is back on Protaria. What do you really want?”
His sharp burst of laughter disturbed the dusty air. “You were always too smart for your own good. Nicho didn’t deserve you.”
“Leave Nicho out of this.” Trepidation twisted through her stomach. She was well aware of Max’s infatuation with her. He’d done little to hide his interest over the years. Surely he hadn’t gone through all this trouble just to… play out his fantasies.
“Nicho is right in the middle of this. How much do you really know about your late husband?”
“He was murdered three years ago. Why bring him up now?”
“How did Nicho die?”
Her temper spiked despite her determination to remain calm. “What does this have to do with—”
“Answer the question,” he snapped, color flowing back into his face.
“He surprised a thief and paid for his bad timing with his life.”
“That’s what your father wanted you to believe, but the truth is far more interesting.”
She leaned against the door, unsure how to react. Was it better to play along or argue with him? The only time he’d been violent was when she’d fought against him. It was probably wisest not to provoke him. “Fine. Tell me the truth. What really happened?”
“Nicho was recruited by the Mutant Underground two years before you were married.”
It was hard not to roll her eye
s when he was being so ridiculous. “Nicho wasn’t a mutant.”
“No, but he had many friends who were. He despised the Protarian elite and was willing to do anything in his power to further the rebellion.”
“If you say so.” Not provoking him was one thing, but she was not going to encourage his delusions. “It still doesn’t change the reality of his death.”
He shot to his feet and stalked toward her. “You don’t yet comprehend the reality of his death. He slunk through back alleys and sabotaged your father at every turn while I remained loyal to Protaria.”
She closed her eyes, struggling for composure. Here it came. The real reason for her abduction. Despite his desire for her, Keller had never so much as kissed her. Had his obsession finally driven him beyond rational thought? Did he feel more powerful as his alter ego, less inclined to play by the rules?
Reinforcing her determination with a deep breath, she reluctantly met his gaze. “I don’t understand what all this has to do with me being abducted.”
His arm lashed out, fingers tangling in the front of her blouse. She yelped and caught his wrist, but he didn’t pull, just prevented her from moving as his eyes stared into hers. “I worked like a slave for your father, yet he never saw beyond my mutation. Nicho mocked you both at every turn. He created opportunities and siphoned off information for Fane and his mangy followers. Your father treated Nicho—”
“You honestly believe Nicho worked for Fane?” The tension in her belly tightened into a painful knot. It couldn’t be true. Nicho loved her.
“Haven’t you been listening?” He leaned in, his stale breath wafting across her face. “Nicho married you specifically so he could pass information to Fane.”
“How could you possibly know this unless you’re part of the Underground too?”
“I have no interest in working for Fane. I intend to replace him, but you’re jumping ahead.” He released her blouse and she exhaled, but the sigh was premature. His hand slid up and his fingers curved around her throat. “Your father found out about Nicho and silenced him.” His fingers flexed, restricting her airflow. Pain shot up the sides of her neck.