“I never doubted it for a moment.”
Drakkin switched to Bilarrian as he said, “You were right, she is your mate. Why haven’t you claimed her yet?”
Blayne chuckled and responded in the same language. “I’m not the one who needs convincing.”
“Human females fight harder than most, but they eventually accept the inevitable.”
Angie was glaring at them both, so Blayne switched back to English and concluded, “Thank you for everything.”
* * * * *
Joy constricted Angie’s throat as she hugged her sister tightly. Their earlier reunion had been so brief it only made their separation harder. Now Angie was back on Earth and they could finally catch up.
Lor and a man named Odintar had been waiting for Angie and Blayne as they emerged from the transport conduit. Angie wasn’t sure how it all worked, but Lor and Odintar had created a sort of shielded bubble not far from the ship and Blayne guided their arrival into the protected space. Once Blayne closed the vortex, they all flashed into one of the spaceship’s cargo bays and Tori had been waiting with open arms.
“I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks. How can I miss you this much?” Angie wiped away happy tears and then hugged Tori again.
“A lot happened in those two weeks.” Tori laughed and returned the embrace, her eyes as tear bright as Angie’s. “You’re here now and you’re safe. That’s all that matters.” She spread out her arms and smiled. “Welcome to the Sentinel.”
Angie looked around the cargo bay and shook her head. “Two weeks ago this would have floored me, but a spaceship seems commonplace when you’ve been to another planet.” Angie hesitated, suddenly confused by their surroundings. “Why do Ontarians need a spaceship if they can teleport?”
“Only half of the men are Mystics. The other half are highly trained soldiers. That’s why they’re called the Mystic Militia, half magic, half firepower.”
“I see.” A shiver dove down her spine, reminding her that the danger was far from over. “And how many are there of each?”
“Three Mystics and three soldiers. That doesn’t sound like a lot, but you’ll have to see them in action. They’ve also networked with a group from Earth.”
“FBI, NSA or Men in Black?”
Tori laughed. “People in Black would be more accurate. The human team is led by Morgan Hoyt, who is a woman.” Tori looped her arm through Angie’s and led her out of the cargo bay.
Despite Angie’s easy dismissal, the ship was impressive. The corridor walls were contoured and smooth, yet the floors were roughly textured. They passed regularly spaced doors which hinted at similarly sized rooms. Crew quarters? As if someone had heard her thought, one of the doors slid open and a uniformed soldier hesitated in the doorway.
“Ma’am,” he greeted, inadvertently giving Angie a glimpse of the room behind him. Compact and functional, aka claustrophobic.
“That’s Kris,” Tori told her once they’d moved beyond the soldier. “His specialty is navigation and blowing stuff up.”
Angie smiled. “Interesting combination.”
“All of the soldiers are quiet compared to the Mystics. Well, except for Dekker. He’s as big a smartass as Odintar.”
“So Lor, Blayne and Odintar are the three Mystics?”
“And the soldiers are Dekker, Kris and Sid.” Tori motioned toward the metal stairs on their right. “The galley is on the upper deck. I’m not sure where Lor is going to put you. The ship is sort of crowded as it is.”
Angie tensed and stopped walking. “Why can’t I just go home?”
“I’m honestly not sure what Lor has in mind, but I doubt your apartment will be an option.”
Mentally grumbling, Angie followed Tori up the stairs. She didn’t want to be separated from Blayne. He was her mentor after all and they still needed… Who was she kidding? Her longing for Blayne had little to do with their training sessions.
“You want me to do what?” Angie didn’t recognize the deep voice, but he spoke English with an Ontarian accent.
Odintar sat at the galley’s only table, a U-shaped booth. Blayne stood beside the booth, glaring down at the other Mystic, so it stood to reason that Odintar had asked the question. Odintar’s sculpted features were expressionless, but Angie spotted humor in his dark eyes. Tori had said one of the soldiers was as big a smartass as Odintar. Was the Mystic having fun at Blayne’s expense?
“I’m going to show you a series of images and I want you to sketch what I show you.” Blayne’s tone was as tight as his stance.
“I prefer live models.” Odintar looked beyond Blayne and winked at Angie. “Can’t she just undress?”
“This isn’t funny, asshole. I need you to—” Blayne whipped his head around as Odintar scooted out of the booth and crossed to the women.
“We haven’t been properly introduced.” Odintar took Angie’s hand between his and gazed deep into her eyes. “I’m Odintar Voss.”
Were all Ontarian men gorgeous or was it just the Mystics? Odintar’s hands were warm and strong, and his gaze was endlessly black. His dark hair had been cut short on the sides while the top was a bit longer. He had stronger features than Blayne. Still, both men were undeniably handsome.
“Angie.” Her voice sounded hushed and heat crawled up along her throat.
Blayne pulled her hand out from between Odintar’s and warned the other man off with a heated glare.
“He’s just pissing you off,” Tori said to Blayne. “It’s Odintar’s favorite game.”
“If Angie will accompany me to my cabin, I’ll teach her my favorite game.” Odintar punctuated the taunt with a slow, sexy smile.
“Are you finished slobbering all over my ma-apprentice? I really do need you to do some sketches for me.”
Tori looked at Angie, brows arched in silent question. She’d obviously heard Blayne’s slip. Are you two—
We’re together, Angie admitted with a guilty smile. More than that, I’m just not sure.
Tori smiled a shrewd sort of happiness gleaming in her eyes. I knew you’d like him. I’m so glad things are finally working out for you.
Things hadn’t yet “worked out” as far as Angie was concerned. She was in the middle of a scorching-hot affair, but the future was still uncertain. Even so, she was in too good a mood to start a fight.
Odintar and Blayne had returned to the booth, Blayne sitting across from Odintar this time. “So what am I drawing?”
Blayne looked at Angie, compassion warming his expression. “Three very bad men.”
Angie had wondered what Blayne intended to do with the images. Being able to describe their appearance hadn’t seemed like much of a lead.
Tori followed the exchange with obvious interest, but didn’t pester them with questions.
“Go on. I’m ready.” Odintar had a thin device in front of him. It looked similar to a tablet computer, but an animated menu scrolled across the top edge, the icons and lettering unfamiliar. He was holding some sort of stylus. His gaze turned vacant for just a second as Blayne transmitted the first image and then Odintar began to draw.
The first man’s image formed with unbelievable speed and accuracy. Odintar was either an extremely talented artist or he was using some sort of Mystic ability to guide his hand. As the man’s features became more and more detailed, Angie had to look away. The vision had helped her turn loose of the past, but the wounds still ached.
Tori touched her shoulder, but Angie kept her face averted, unwilling to subject herself to the pity and disgust undoubtedly shadowing her sister’s gaze. “Is he the one who…”
“One of them,” Angie whispered then cringed when she heard Tori sob.
“There was more than one?” She pulled Angie into a maternal hug, but Angie knew it was Tori who needed reassurance.
“It’s okay.” She stroked Tori’s hair, amazed that she actually meant the phrase for the first time ever. “This will hurt for a while, but it will help me find closure.”
T
ori looked at her, chin quivering, tears streaming down her face. “I am so sorry. I hate myself for not protecting you.”
“No one is to blame but the animals that hurt me.” Again she was shocked by the conviction in her own words. She had heard them so often from others, but she was finally starting to believe. “You did nothing wrong and neither did I.” She glanced at Blayne over Tori’s shoulder. He smiled, obviously pleased by her attitude.
“Is this close?” Odintar drew the image upward with a pulling motion and the sketch became three-dimensional.
“Wow.” Angie eased away from Tori and approached the table. “That is really cool. His nose was wider, but that’s damn good.”
“Why thank you, lovely lady.” He adjusted the nose and looked to her for approval.
She nodded. “That’s better.”
“Anything else?”
“No. That looks just like him.” She crossed her arms over her chest, fighting back the memories. Even though the past could no longer control her, it didn’t make the events any less abhorrent. “Actually it looks just like he did when it happened, but that was years ago. How is this going to help us find him now?”
“We have software that can accurately age him and then we’ll have Morgan run the morphed image through her facial recognition databases,” Blayne explained. “When it comes to humans, her information is more accurate than ours.”
“Morgan?”
“The Woman in Black,” Tori reminded.
Angie just nodded, ready to think about something else.
“So what did these dirtbags do?” Odintar asked as he began the second sketch. A tense silence followed, so he looked up from his gadget then quickly shook his head. “None of my business. Forget I asked.”
“They raped me when I was fifteen.” Angie waited for the staggering emotional surge that always followed thoughts of that night. Miraculously it never came. A horrible thing had been done to her. She couldn’t change the event. It would always be part of her psyche, but never again would she take ownership of the crime.
Blayne scooted out of the booth and reached for Angie, approval and compassion shining in his eyes.
“I’m fine,” she assured, but went willingly into his arms. The pain was muted now, less cutting than it had ever been before.
“We’ll find them.” The steely determination in Odintar’s tone was all too familiar. “No one hurts one of our women and gets away with it.”
Remaining within the circle of Blayne’s arms, Angie turned and faced the other Mystic. “And then what? What happens to rapists on Ontariese?”
“Crimes are easily proven when prosecutors can scan the defendant’s memory. Trials generally last hours, not weeks,” Odintar told her.
“And then what?” she persisted. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Ontarian females have always been treasured, but the Great Conflict made any form of abuse intolerable,” Odintar evaded.
That was right. Even decades after the war’s end, there were many more men on Ontariese than women. It stood to reason that they would be extremely protective of their females. “Spell it out for me. What will happen to these dirtbags if you take them to Ontariese?”
“When we take them to Ontariese, they will have a choice between surgical or Mystic rehabilitation.” Blayne finally answered her question, though his statement was still vague. “Most chose Mystic.”
“Surgical? As in castration?”
“Violence begins in the mind.” Blayne moved his hands to her shoulders and lightly squeezed. “That’s where the alteration is made.”
Their idea of rehabilitation sounded a lot like a lobotomy. But Ontarian technology was much more sophisticated than anything here on Earth. Besides, the dirtbags had permanently altered her life. Why shouldn’t she permanently alter theirs? She refused to feel sorry for those animals. “And what does Mystic rehabilitation entail?”
Odintar looked at Blayne for a long, silent moment. Was he asking permission? Apparently Blayne gave it because Odintar said, “First they share in their victim’s pain. They are subjected to everything the victim experienced and more.”
She’d always thought punishment should fit the crime, but her moral compass started spinning. “How is that accomplished without turning someone else into a rapist?”
Blayne gave her another gentle squeeze. “They’re literally inundated with the victim’s memories and sensations. Certain Mystics can access such memories without further traumatizing the victim.”
“Good to know.” She remained tense beneath his hands. “What happens next?”
“The ultimate goal is rehabilitation, but we also believe in punishment,” Odintar told her. “Rape is a vile crime and there must be a reckoning.” She just nodded, so he went on. “Once they’re filled with regret and shame, they start an extensive course of behavioral modification. Criminals are only released once everyone involved is convinced they have permanently changed.”
If she hadn’t exchanged memories and projected her being from one planet to another, she never would have believed such a thing was possible. As Tori had said, a lot had happened in just two weeks. “Will they be allowed to return to Earth?”
Odintar shook his head. “One of the conditions of their release will be technological supervision for the rest of their lives. Their movements will be traced, their behavior monitored. The program is highly successful, but not perfect.”
“Besides, returning to Earth after exposure to our world is an unacceptable risk when someone’s basic character is in doubt,” Blayne added.
She accepted the information with a nod then turned around. “I don’t want to sit here and dwell on this. I’ll take a look at the other two drawings once he’s finished with them. Do you know where we’ll be staying?”
“Lor said something about the Bunker, but that’s all he said.”
“I’ll take her to my cabin,” Tori offered. “We could use some girl time anyway.”
Tori’s cabin was larger than the one Angie had seen on her way to the galley, but not by much. Hopefully the Bunker would be more accommodating. “I never thought I’d find a place that made my apartment seem spacious.”
“I’m sure anywhere would feel cramped after being Lord Drakkin’s guest.”
She said the name with an odd reverence. “Do you know him?”
Tori shook her head and motioned Angie toward the small round table in one corner of the compact room. “Lor told me about him. He sounds very impressive.”
“He was impressive.” She sat down facing her sister, content just to chat. “Bilarri was beautiful, and seeing Aria again was such a treat. She always fascinated me. I’m really glad she’s okay.”
“How did she end up on Bilarri? And mated with Lord Drakkin?”
“You know the wig and stage makeup that made her character so amazing?” Tori nodded and Angie grinned. “That’s her actual appearance. Apparently, she has some rare and powerful gift, and Drakkin was sent to Earth by her father to protect and train her. It was a long convoluted story.”
“Aren’t they all? Did she seem happy?”
Angie laughed. “Why wouldn’t she be? She married Bilarrian royalty.” Tori just smiled, so Angie added, “Speaking of which, Blayne told me about Lor.”
“What about him?”
“That he’s an Ontarian prince.”
“Prince is a human term. Besides, Lor’s father passed away recently so he is now head of the royal House of Joon.”
“Meaning he’s a king?”
Tori shrugged. “He’s the man I love. That’s all I care. Riches and power are just icing on the cake.”
Angie laughed. “Well, I’ve always been fond of icing.”
“Enough about me. Tell me about you. Are you really okay? Blayne wasn’t too much of a taskmaster, was he?”
Even the suggestion made Angie smile. “Blayne is amazing. As you expected, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit, but he’s really very patient.”
Angie shook her head. “Drakkin confirmed that it doesn’t work, but he left the strand intact. He thinks I can follow it and locate Nazerel.”
Tori paled, clearly upset by the possibility. “Won’t Nazerel sense you?”
“Most of the people I access were unaware of me.”
“I sensed you.”
“We’re sisters. We have an inherent connection.” Drakkin had sensed her too. It really was a crap shoot, but it was worth the gamble. The Shadow Assassins had to be stopped and Nazerel was a pivotal player.
“You’re obviously a farseer,” Tori mused, the color gradually returning to her cheeks. “Do you have any other abilities?”
“I’m a temporal farseer. I can see across space and time.”
Tori nodded. “Farseeing must have been one of Father’s gifts. I can’t manipulate time, but I can project my consciousness.”
“That’s probably why we connected so easily.”
“Likely. But farseeing isn’t my primary gift. I’m a sensitive. I can sense all sorts of things in others when I really concentrate.”
Angie scooted closer to the table. They’d had the same parents and yet their abilities were different. It shouldn’t surprise her. Their hair and eye color weren’t the same and their personality traits were certainly individual. “I can’t help wondering about him.”
“Daddy dear?”
“Yeah. I always thought he was some sort of drifter, but Blayne thinks it was more immoral than that.”
Tori scrunched up her brow. “In what way?”
“Apparently there was a program about thirty years ago that brought Ontarian men and human women together so they could have lots of babies.”
“Blayne thinks Mom was part of this program? Lor hasn’t said anything about it. Well, all he said was Blayne and Odintar were part of a mission awhile back that went horribly wrong. I guess it took some convincing for Blayne to even agree to return to Earth.”
Angie drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “We should compare notes more often. Blayne never said anything about his mission going ‘horribly wrong’.”
Alpha Hunter Page 15