by Carysa Locke
Sanah was never indoctrinated into their deepest secrets. She’d stayed on the fringes, content to go about her job in the scientific division. She was to help develop a serum that might aid her sister, Nayla, in controlling her dangerous Talent.
She wondered, if she’d looked further, would she have found things to question? Would she have guessed at their intent? She brushed bedraggled red curls out of her eyes, and looked over at Nayla. Maybe. Maybe not. She couldn’t second-guess the decisions she’d made now.
Trying to stay awake, she checked the coordinates she’d programmed into the astrogation console for the third time. She couldn’t afford any mistakes. Aside from the obvious dangers of getting lost in otherspace, or coming out too close to a star, the distance needed to be precise. They only had enough fuel left for two more jumps at a maximum. She needed to be absolutely sure of where they were going. She couldn’t risk a mistake now, when they were exhausted. It would be tragic to come this far only to perish because a miscalculation led them to disaster.
She glanced again at her sister, who was curled up on one of the two benches in the crew compartment. Her dark hair was an unruly cloud around her face, with equally dark circles around her eyes, even in sleep. The benches didn’t make comfortable beds, as Sanah knew from her own experience—bruises and aches riddled her own body from similar naps. But after a certain point, you no longer cared what surface you slept on, just so long as you could close your eyes and get some sleep.
Her own were starting to droop dangerously low. In the beginning, they’d had adrenaline to help keep them sharp. But now, after three days of running and jumping to random, distant coordinates in an effort to muddy their trail, that initial burst of fear and adrenaline was a distant memory. Instead, Sanah utilized stimulants to keep herself awake, placing the medical patches on the skin under her jacket sleeves, where Nayla wouldn’t see how often she was using them. Her latest dose must be fading because her eyes drifted shut despite all of her efforts.
When the sensors started beeping, she jerked awake, lunging forward to slam her hand down onto the navigation pad that locked in the pre-programmed emergency coordinates.
“What is it?” Nayla blinked away sleep, woken by the noise. “Is it Niall?” Her sister's question came with a twin surge of panic and fear, the emotions slicing through Sanah like knives. She took a deep breath, and then another, trying for calm, trying to push Nayla's emotion away. But it was hard when they were in such close proximity, and when her own emotions mirrored her sister’s.
“I don't know.” She checked the sensor readout while the Viking's drive spooled up to jump, and then gasped.
“What? What is it?” Nayla's fear spiked, and she came to stand over her, looking anxiously at the sensor screen. “That’s a really big ship, Sanah.”
“I know. It’s a Monarch class.”
“A Monarch? Niall sent the military after us?” Shock briefly blanketed the fear, and Sanah went cold with it.
“I guess so.” Monarchs were the flagships of the Commonwealth Navy. He must have all of Veritas working with him to get one to hunt them down. Worse, she had no idea if they could evade it. Come on, she thought as the enormous ship loomed closer. Jump, damn it!
And finally, they did. Everything seemed to freeze around them for an endless space of time that felt simultaneously a second and a century long. The stars faded, brightened into a new configuration, and they were suddenly in an empty stretch of space, no Monarch to be seen. Relief, her own and Nayla's, coursed through Sanah. She sagged against the console.
“Thank the Mother.”
Nayla sat back down, looking nervously out at the stars, picking at the hem of her gray shirt. Her long legs bore the bruises of their uncomfortable journey, dark purple smears against her pale skin. She could have fixed them with her gift, but it was too risky until she’d had some sleep. Biokinesis was dangerous at the best of times.
“How long before we can jump again?” Nayla anxiously asked.
Feeling a little sluggish now that the adrenaline was fading, Sanah moved to check the gauges for the jump drive.
“I don’t know. We only have enough fuel left for one more. We’re going to have to get to the nearest planet and restock there. I’d prefer to ditch the Viking entirely, but I’m not sure we’ll be able to get another ship.”
“You mean steal another one.”
Sanah looked at her sister. “If we can.”
Truthfully, Sanah wasn’t at all certain of her ability to pilot another ship. She was only familiar with the Vikings’ controls because of a brief training program Veritas had offered during her second year working in the labs. At the time, it had seemed like a good opportunity to get away from chemicals and formulas for a few hours a week.
Nayla shivered, wrapping her own arms around herself. She looked too pale, almost sick. Her normally bright blue eyes were dull as she looked out at the stars.
“He’s never going to stop until he gets us back,” she whispered. “Until he gets me back.” She looked at Sanah. “But you could still get away. He’ll let you go if he thinks he can have me! Sanah, you have to—”
“No.” She wouldn’t even consider it. Not for a second. “Absolutely not. The whole point was to get you away from him, Nayla. Before he turns you into something you’re not. Before he uses you up.”
Nayla closed her eyes, and Sanah felt the wave of guilt and exhausted pain coming from her.
“No.”
She left the console to sit beside her sister, pulling her into a hug. “No, baby. You don’t get to feel guilty over something that was my choice—mine.”
“I’m sorry.” A tear slid down Nayla’s cheek, and Sanah felt a fresh wave of fear from her.
“Nayla,” she said, fiercely protective, “honey, you’re not a burden.”
“But, my Talent—”
“Is part of who you are. You’re my baby sister, and I love you. I was never going to sit back and let Niall distort your beautiful gift into something ugly.” Not once she realized what he was up to.
“You had to leave behind your whole life—your job, your friends—”
“I’ll get a new job. I’m sure they need biochemists wherever we’re going to end up.” She was lying. Sure, she could get another job in her field, but that would be monumentally stupid. Niall would very likely be looking in all of those places. Even in all the vastness of the Commonwealth, the sort of research facilities who would utilize a biochemist with a specialty in genomics would be limited.
She said nothing about friends because, truthfully, she hadn’t had many. Being an empath was a double-edged sword. Sanah craved human contact, the touch of emotion that only came from the presence of others. At the same time, emotions were a lot harder to block than thoughts, because they were often intense, catching the person off guard. Emotions weren’t planned and thought out, they just happened, spilling over from the people feeling them. From there, they cascaded onto Sanah, sometimes with very unexpected results.
It was always embarrassing to try to explain away tears for someone else’s pain, a bad mood resulting from someone else’s anger, or laughter at a joke no one else had heard.
“We’ll be fine,” she told Nayla. “We’ll be together, and that’s what matters most.”
“What do you mean, they’re gone?”
Dem thought the young man sitting at astrogation looked a little faint when faced with Cannon’s displeasure. His eyes were wide, his face unnaturally gaunt.
“I mean they jumped away, sir. Gone.”
“They must have sensed us.”
Cannon swung around to Sebastian when he spoke, and Dem realized the other man had done it on purpose, drawing the king’s attention away from the crewman.
No, Treon said to all of them. They saw the ship and ran. They were expecting pursuit, and they were prepared for it.
“You lost the connection.” Cannon unhappily said.
Of course not. Why would I do that?
That may be true of other telepaths. It is not for me.
They all stared at him, even Dem.
“Treon.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever failed at anything in your life?”
No.
“Of course not.” Sebastian’s tone was dry. “Can you give us fresh coordinates?”
I am attempting to do so. As I said, this isn’t easy.
They waited. Five minutes. Then ten. Cannon sighed and leaned back against the console, arms crossed over his chest.
Patience, Treon said.
I am patient, Cannon sent back.
The minutes continued to slide by, and Sebastian glanced down at the crewman. With a grateful sigh, the young man slid out of the chair, and Sebastian took his place. They continued to wait.
Yes!
A satisfied smirk stretched across Treon’s face. Cannon straightened from where he leaned, and Sebastian poised his fingers over the astrogation controls. Treon rattled off the coordinates, and Dem sent a message requesting a specific man with a specific Talent to report to the CIC. They needed to take a different tactic this time around.
Chapter Three
Sanah knew she’d fallen asleep when she found herself standing barefoot beneath a Denuvian orange sun, grass the same color and texture as red velvet brushing against her ankles. Beside her, water cascaded over crystalline rock, rushing past trees with diamond-shaped, copper leaves, and into a deep lake surrounded by glittering sand. Branches laden with sweetly fragrant flowers swayed in the breeze above her head.
Her hair blew across her face, and she realized it was down, loose around her shoulders. She almost never wore it that way—the thick curls were unruly enough as it was, often escaping whatever attempt she made to control them. She looked down at herself and saw a short kimono in rich cobalt blue from her own closet, abandoned back home. It was one of her favorite pieces, but…
“I’ve never been to Denuvia,” she said aloud, turning a slow circle. The popular vacation world was on her list, but far outside of her reach, even before she fled her old life. This was too vivid for a normal dream.
“Stop it, Niall. Right now.” This wasn’t the first time she’d been pulled into a dream that was anything but.
“Who’s Niall?”
The unfamiliar voice had her swinging around, and she gasped, shocked. A naked man walked out of the lake, water sluicing off his fantastically fit body with each step he took. His skin was pale and smooth. Black hair ruffled in the breeze, long enough to hang into eyes a striking, intense blue. He was beautiful and definitely not Niall.
Niall had never sent anyone else into one of these not-dreams before. Not even to try to pair her up with one of the men he’d vetted and approved for her. Niall had never understood how her gift made maintaining a relationship difficult. He saw the right partnership as both taking care of her and also solidifying their family’s place within the organization. Sanah couldn’t believe that, after all of his past failures, even Niall could be so ridiculous as to believe a handsome, naked man could convince her to see things his way.
Panic fluttered through her. Unless his only goal was to distract her, however briefly. If Niall wasn’t here, with her…
“Where’s Nayla?” she demanded.
“She’s exactly as you left her.” The handsome stranger shrugged. “A little alarmed that she can’t wake you, but otherwise perfectly fine. I thought it best if we conversed privately.”
“You thought? Just who are you? Where’s Niall?” Sanah crossed her arms, aware the gesture was defensive, even as she tried to sound authoritative. “I’m not dealing with anyone but him.”
The stranger strode closer, and Sanah strove valiantly to keep her eyes on his face as he stepped from the water to the sand, his footfalls leaving indentations behind him. She didn’t bother to back away. The telepath controlling this dreamscape didn’t need the appearance of physical proximity if he wanted to hurt her.
“I ask again—who is Niall?” he said, ignoring her questions in favor of his own. “Should I be jealous?”
“Look you, whoever you are, I’m not playing. I know what this is.” She gestured to the idyllic landscape. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been pulled into a telepathically created reality.”
“It’s not?” This realization seemed to surprise the man. His eyebrows went up, and he stopped moving forward. He cocked his head. “I truly must meet this Niall, then.”
She watched him with suspicious. “You really don’t know who he is?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe you.” Mother, she wished her Talent would work here. But it never did, so she couldn’t get a read on him, couldn’t decide if he was as ignorant as he claimed to be.
The corners of his mouth turned down slightly, in the hint of a frown. “Can you not simply let go, and enjoy the reality you’re in? You’re exhausted, and this would be the perfect opportunity to rest, recharge, and relax.” As he spoke, he reached out to touch a strand of her hair.
Sanah frowned. “Would you put some clothes on, please?”
He glanced down at himself, as if noticing his own nakedness for the first time. She doubted that. Any telepath powerful enough to do this was in complete control of every aspect.
“If you wish it,” he said, and a pair of loose-knit pants materialized around his hips. His torso remained distractingly bare. He held out his hand in an old-fashioned gesture of greeting. “I’m Treon, by the way.”
She didn’t take it, just watched him.
“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” He smiled invitingly, but she wasn’t drawn in.
“I’m sure you already know it, if you brought me here.”
“But it’s polite when meeting new acquaintances to introduce oneself.”
“Look, I just want to get back to my sister. Let me go. Let us go. If you’re not with Niall, you have no interest in us.”
He threw back his head and laughed. It sounded deep and genuinely amused.
“If you only knew how wrong you are,” he said, shaking his head. “We have an intense interest in you, believe me.”
As he spoke, Sanah caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Another man was striding through the red grass toward them. Larger, more imposing, but at least fully clothed in a gray, double-breasted suit. His hair was cut to a short, dark stubble over his head. He wore eyeshades against the brightness of the sun overhead, a flash of metallic black against the even brown of his clean-shaven face. He walked with a confident grace that was just a part of his movement, not something designed to seduce.
She liked him better instantly, if she had to choose. “Who is that?” she asked, jerking her chin at the newcomer.
Treon folded his arms over his impressive chest, eyes narrowed. “I don’t recall inviting you, Dem.”
“Enough, Treon. You’ve had your play, and it’s not working. Let me speak with her.”
Treon looked back at Sanah, raising one black brow. “You would rather speak to my ill-mannered brother, than me?”
“If he’s more honest, absolutely.”
Treon looked affronted. “I am always honest,” he said.
“Really?” She pointedly looked around at the landscape.
“The things we fantasize about in the privacy of our minds are just as honest as the reality of our physical selves.”
“This isn’t my fantasy.”
Treon looked like he wanted to argue, but a sharp glance from the newcomer gave him pause. The two exchanged a long, silent communication that had nothing to do with Talent.
Treon sighed. “Very well.” He gave Dem one last, wordless look, and then he was gone.
Sanah was left staring across at Dem. He looked around, and the trees, grass, and crystalline waterfall all faded away to utilitarian gray walls and dull metal flooring. It was the hallway
of a ship.
He removed the shades, and she found herself looking into eyes the same striking blue as Treon’s. Until that moment, she hadn’t given the word brother much significance. The two men couldn’t have been more different in manner and looks, but their eyes were exactly the same.
She folded her arms over her chest defensively, and realized she was back in her real clothes—the bedraggled synth-silk suit she’d been wearing when she took Nayla and ran. She kept looking into his eyes, wishing again for the advantage of her Talent.
“Where is Niall?”
“We don’t know Niall. Treon was telling the truth.” A faint smile. “He really is honest, most of the time. He’s too arrogant to bother lying.”
She lowered her arms, but her hands formed fists at her sides, until her nails dug into her palms. “I want to see my sister.”
“Of course. Treon should have reassured you. We would never harm her.”
Dem gestured, and one of the gray walls faded to reveal the inside of the Viking dropship she’d spent the past three days piloting with her rudimentary skills. She saw herself, slumped over on the bench.
Nayla was standing protectively in front of her sleeping form. An insubstantial looking young man wearing what looked like a pilot’s flight suit was standing a few feet from her. He was, quite literally, transparent. Sanah’s heart squeezed painfully; Nayla looked terrified.
“Astral projection?” she guessed, eyeing the young man. That meant he wasn’t physically present on the ship. He couldn’t touch Nayla, but he might still use his Talent. “What’s happening? Let me wake up, so I can reassure her.”
“Phantom is keeping her calm. I need to explain some things to you, first. Information that might frighten her even more, given her current emotional state.”
Sanah watched Nayla with ‘Phantom’ for another moment, and then tore her gaze away to look at Dem. “Explain fast.”