Closing the Circle (Guardians of the Pattern, Book 6)

by Jaye McKenna

  “But—”

  “I don’t want to turn you into someone you’re going to end up hating.”

  There was a sharp bark of laughter, and Cam said softly, “It’s too late for that.”

  “No. It’s not. Look, having me in your life is going to put you at odds with everyone you care about. Your sister. Your family. Your colleagues and your friends. I can’t do that to you.”

  He’d known, perhaps, deep inside, that this was coming. Known it, but hadn’t wanted to acknowledge or admit it, though it was far easier to admit than the deeper truth, the one that had been creeping slowly into his awareness over the past few days. The truth that told him to run, to get the hell out while he still could, before he let the things he was starting to feel for Cam destroy his edge and trap him here.

  Cam was silent for a long time. “Where will you go?” he finally asked.

  “I don’t know,” Draven said. “I… hadn’t really thought about it until now. Alliance, maybe. Lots of isolated worlds, restricted information flow… it’s easy to stay hidden there.”

  “Dangerous, too. The Federation Charter won’t protect you in the Alliance.”

  “Your Charter was never meant for my kind.” Draven stared at the fire. “Regardless, you’re better off without me. I’ll only bring you trouble. And it sounds as if you’ve already got enough of that coming your way.”

  Cam’s arms tightened around him. “At least stay here until you’re stronger. You’re not ready yet. Give yourself a few more weeks. I can’t stand the thought of you going out there alone when you’re not at your best.”

  Draven considered that, and found he didn’t like the idea of dragging it out. Far easier to go now, while his sense of purpose was clear. The longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave. But Cam was right. He was in no shape to be out there alone. This afternoon’s pathetic attempt at working out had shown him that. “All right,” he conceded. “But just a few more weeks.”

  “Good. That gives me some time to convince you to stay.”

  “Cam—”

  “I know, I know.” Cam sighed. “You’re probably right.” There was a long pause before he continued. “When you’re ready to go, I’ll help you however I can. Weapons, supplies, whatever. Let me know what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”

  Draven squeezed his eyes shut and let his head rest on Cam’s shoulder. A tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered that what he needed was right here in this room, holding onto him tightly.

  But he couldn’t have it. Not without destroying both himself and Cam in the process.

  * * *

  It was early when Cam knocked on Eleni’s apartment door. She was awake, and she was alone, which was a relief. Bad enough that she should see him like this; explaining it to Trevor was more than he wanted to contemplate.

  Eleni’s eyes widened the moment she opened the door, as he’d known they would.

  “Cam, what the hell? Have you been fighting?”

  “Not… exactly,” he said, though no-holds-barred empathic sex with Draven could hardly be anything else. “I… um. I need you to fix me up a little.”

  She got that distant look that said she was scanning him, checking for damage. “Do not tell me you’re sleeping with him.”

  Cam gestured to the bruise on his jaw. “Not exactly sleeping.”

  “That’s not funny.” Her anger surged, hot and wild, and he couldn’t shut it out. “I don’t know what’s worse: your penchant for rough sex or the fact that you’re doing it with him.” She raked a hand through her long, auburn hair. “Jesus, Cam, this takes me right back to Paris, you know that? I thought we were done with this.”

  “I have a meeting with Pat in half an hour. Right after that, I have to talk to a Federation investigator. Going in there looking like I’ve been on the losing side of a barroom brawl isn’t going to make the kind of impression we want.”

  “Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you asked him to beat the shit out of you, hmm?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Spare me the details. I don’t want to know.”

  “Fine. You won’t do it, I’ll go talk to Damon.” He turned to leave, but not before Eleni grabbed hold of his arm.

  “Go lie on the couch.” She sounded exasperated. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t heal you. What I’m trying to say is that I’m worried about you.”

  Cam moved past her and lay down on the couch. Eleni knelt on the floor beside him, her concern vibrating through him as she stared down at him.

  “He makes me feel alive,” he murmured.

  “Well, you sure don’t look it. Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “Not… not much. Won’t be for much longer. He’ll be leaving soon. Once he’s got his strength back, you won’t have to worry about it anymore.” Emptiness welled up inside him at the thought of Draven leaving, maybe forever.

  Eleni put a hand on his and squeezed gently. “I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m sorry it makes you sad.”

  Cam closed his eyes and let her work. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d only healed the visible damage, but she did it all, right down to the deep ache in his backside and the bruises on his hips. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d been pounded until a wave of healing warmth broke over him and the discomfort began to ebb away.

  “There,” she said, sitting back on her heels. “All pretty for the Federation investigator. Try to get some sleep tonight, all right?”

  “I will.”

  “I suppose it’s too much to ask that you do it alone?”

  “Eleni—”

  “Never mind, not my business, I know.” She got to her feet and stretched. “So tell me about this Federation investigator who’s got everybody in a snit. We don’t hear too much in our little corner of the campus.”

  “Jacob Sylvester,” Cam said, and couldn’t quite suppress a shiver at the memories the man’s name — and face — evoked. “I… I looked him up. He’s been working for his brother’s consulting firm on Earth for the last five years or so. He’s supposed to be an independent, unbiased observer, and most of his work has been for the Federation Senate.”

  “Sounds like another mid-level bureaucrat to me,” Eleni said. “Not very frightening at all.”

  “He’s not.” Or he wouldn’t be, if Cam didn’t have a vivid memory of a bloody, beaten FedSec agent staring up at him with horror in his eyes as he called Cam a filthy mind-fucker. “But whatever he reports back to the Senate could have serious implications for the Institute and everyone here.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Serious but nebulous implications wouldn’t make your pulse jump like that.”

  Having a sister who could sense his every flicker of emotion sometimes caused far more problems than it solved. “I… met him on an undercover assignment under less-than-pleasant circumstances. And don’t ask, because I can’t say any more than that.”

  “Fine.” Eleni let out an irritated sigh. “I won’t ask. But keep in mind that if I think you’re getting too stressed out over this, I can send you to Psych Services for an evaluation.”

  It wasn’t an idle threat. She’d done it before, and she’d do it again if he gave her reason. “I’m fine,” he said in a low voice. And vowed that he would be, regardless of how he felt inside.

  He reached his office only a few minutes before Pat arrived. Pat’s expression was grim, and he didn’t look like he’d gotten much more sleep than Cam had. He didn’t even say good morning before miming activating a sonic disruptor and placing it on the desk.

  Cam did so, and as soon as the barely-detectable vibration filled the room, Pat said, “My father called me out to his place last night.” He glanced at the sonic disruptor, then met Cam’s eyes. “This is between you and me. I don’t even want to know how many laws Avery broke passing it on. Neil doesn’t know this, but Avery says you need to, so you can take whatever action you think is appropriate.�
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  “That sounds… dire.”

  “It’s a lot worse than dire. During one of those closed sessions that Neil and Tarrin weren’t invited to, ChemGenTech did a presentation on a new drug. It’s called Ravanifen, and it can burn out psi without destroying memories. It’s already been through one set of clinical trials, and there was a lot of discussion about using it to solve what the Senate is unofficially calling the psion problem.”

  The shock hit Cam hard; he could almost feel the blood draining from his face. “They can’t force people to take it. Not under the Federation Charter.”

  “Not the general population, no.” Pat didn’t look a whole lot better than Cam felt. “But psions are a tiny minority. My father practiced law before he became a public servant. He and his legal staff have been over the Charter very carefully. The language in the sections pertaining to psions is open enough to interpretation that they wouldn’t even need to pass an amendment. Avery said there was talk of introducing a law that would require psions to take Ravanifen. I don’t need to tell you how little public support we would have if we chose to challenge it. Especially right now. If there’s enough violence, enough public outcry…”

  Every muscle in Cam’s body was tensed with an adrenaline dump that had no outlet. There was nowhere to run, no one to fight. “What does Avery suggest we do?”

  “For now, we cooperate with the investigator. We’ve got a couple of months before the Senate meets again, and some time beyond that before whatever measures they pass can be implemented. Avery’s gearing up for a fight, starting with gathering as much support as he can from the more open-minded senators and human rights organizations.”

  “That’s a start,” Cam said. “What can we do to help?”

  “Nothing on that front — Avery already has a plan and an itinerary. He’s leaving tomorrow on a fast courier, and he doesn’t expect to be back before the next session on Earth. We need to figure out what we’re going to do if they push through some draconian piece of legislation that will see us crippled and blinded.”

  Cam ran a hand through his hair. “I can tell you right now, we’re not going to lie down and take it. We’ll get the hell out if we have to. Tarrin said he and Vaya discussed the possibility of going before the Ajhani Council of Chiefs and asking them for sanctuary.”

  “Avery told me. It’s not a bad idea. If the Federation becomes hostile to psions, I can see Aion renouncing its protectorate status. How soon can we get Tarrin and Vaya to Aion to start negotiating?”

  “Not soon enough,” Cam said with a grimace. “The Council of Chiefs doesn’t meet until Aion’s winter. The clans are still in the summer lands now. Even if they shipped out tomorrow, they wouldn’t be back here with an answer before the Senate votes.”

  “Then you and I need to put our heads together and figure out what’s going to happen if they vote to drug us. Evacuate the Institute?”

  “We might have to,” Cam said. “I’m not sure where we’d go, but… if nothing else, we can give the order to scatter and lay low.”

  “That isn’t going to help, Cam. Sylvester’s got records of all of the Institute’s employees. As does the Command Council. I can see FedSec simply assuming they’re all psions and drugging everyone who’s ever been associated with the Institute.”

  “Those records they have… they might not be entirely accurate,” Cam said.

  There was a long silence before Pat shook his head and said, “I’m not even going to ask. The less I know, the better. Go ahead and let the people living here on campus know — quietly — that they should be thinking about where they can go to ground if things get bad.”

  “I’ll start spreading the word.”

  “Good. And let me know when you’ve got time to sit down and brainstorm our way through this. We need a firm plan.” Pat stared down at the table, then raised worried, dark eyes to meet Cam’s. “I’ve never seen my father afraid before. He was afraid last night.”

  “He’s watching this thing blow out of control,” Cam said. “I’ve been afraid ever since that vid-clip hit Aurora News Net. I think we all have; anyone with any sense can see what’s coming.”

  “Anyone with any sense is making plans to get the hell out before things get bad,” Pat said.

  Cam rubbed his temples. Protecting the people he was responsible for had just become a lot more complicated than he’d ever imagined it would.

  * * *

  Draven’s body ached. Partly from the brutal exercise routine he’d forced himself through yesterday morning, and partly from what he and Cam had done last night.

  His heart ached, too. He’d never felt anything quite like it before, and Draven had experienced more kinds of pain than he’d ever dared try to catalog.

  He was still reeling from the merging of minds and selves he’d shared with Cam. He’d been inside men’s minds plenty of times before, but never like that, never to feel their pleasure, to share their deepest needs, to know them inside and out. It had always been about pain and intimidation, stripping them bare of their secrets.

  Not so with Cam.

  Last night hadn’t been about taking, but giving. Cam had given Draven the keys to his soul, and Cam had wanted him to have them.

  The level of trust that took humbled him.

  Cam trusted him — even knowing what he was.

  And it hadn’t been one-sided, either. He’d given Cam all of himself in return. Cam understood him in a way no one else ever had. Understood his fears. Understood the aching island he’d always been.

  He’d never expected to face the abyss and see his own self reflected back at him.

  The sound of a flyer buzzing overhead didn’t give him the same jolt of excitement as it had yesterday. It wasn’t Cam; Cam was at the campus, dealing with the ghosts of his past. This would be Kyn dropping off the supplies Cam had ordered.

  Draven pulled on the boots and winter coat Cam had brought for him, then headed outside to help. Kyn was just opening the flyer’s cargo hatch when Draven reached the clearing.

  “Stick to the bags and leave the crates for me,” Kyn suggested.

  Draven scowled at the reminder of his lingering weakness, but didn’t try to show off by hefting one of the crates. When they’d finished moving the supplies inside, he started unpacking, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Kyn began to help.

  “How are you feeling?” Kyn asked as they worked together to fill the chiller with fresh food.

  “Better,” Draven said cautiously. Kyn’s mythe-shadow swirled with the colors of unresolved conflict, but Draven had no idea whether it had anything to do with him. He hadn’t seen Kyn since the day he’d broken through his shield, wasn’t sure where he stood.

  Kyn closed the chiller and turned to face him. “Look… we got off to a bad start. I… know I said some things about what happened at the Aberdeen facility, but… I do understand that you were following orders.”

  “Yes.”

  “And… and that your boss was probably a hell of a lot less forgiving than mine.”

  Draven gave him a sharp nod. “That’s a fair assessment.”

  “I’m sorry for what I said.”

  Draven blinked. That sounded like a peace offering, and the colors he saw in Kyn’s mythe-shadow confirmed that it was. It occurred to Draven that in this place, at the mercy of people who might be happy to see him dead, he could use all the allies he could get. “I… I’m sorry, too,” he said softly. “Sorry that you lost someone who was important to you.”

  “Thank you,” Kyn said. There was a long pause before he continued. “About the other day… I never got a chance to thank you for what you did for me. Everything is… back the way it was before. Pat and I… I mean… I can touch his mind, and that’s… that’s not something I ever thought I’d have again. I owe you in a big way, and I won’t forget that. I’m sorry if it caused trouble for you. I… I hope Cam wasn’t too hard on you.”

  “No.” Draven dropped his gaze. “He… it’s fine.” />
  “Is it?”

  Draven risked a glance up, and arctic-blue eyes searched his face. There was no hostility in Kyn. Draven sensed gratitude, curiosity, and concern, but nothing angry or duplicitous. Still, he hesitated before saying, “Cam says you and he are brothers.”

  “Yeah. Foster brothers, actually, but we’re family in all the ways that count. Why?”

  “I’m worried about him. That investigator… Sylvester. Cam knows him. From a long time ago. He was… not in good shape last night.”

  “Cam was out here last…” Kyn’s eyes widened. “Oh… Jesus… you and Cam? Wow. Didn’t see that coming.”

  “No,” Draven breathed. “Neither did I.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Kyn said. “But chances are, he’s not going to talk to me about it. Cam doesn’t share when he’s stressed. And he tends to bury himself in work when he’s hurting.”

  “I know.”

  Kyn glanced at the bags still sitting on the table. “Can you finish up here? The wood pile is looking a little sparse. Cam’s going to be tied up with that investigator for the rest of the week, and… well, I don’t suppose you’re up to splitting logs right now.”

  “No,” Draven said with a faint smile. “Probably not.”

  Kyn put his coat back on and headed outside. Draven soon heard the sound of an ax breaking apart wood. He turned back to the bags on the table and started unpacking them, not sure what to think.

  Had he just found an ally?

  Part of him thought maybe he had… but the part that had grown up in downside Paris sneered and asked him if he was going soft.

  It didn’t matter. Regardless of Kyn’s intentions, Draven would be gone as soon as he’d regained the strength he needed to defend himself. That day couldn’t come soon enough.