by Carysa Locke
He shrugged, like it didn’t matter. But she knew that it did.
“It was a long time ago. And that’s not why I’m telling you this story. So, I find my dog. I’m shocked, sad, and angry. I scream. I rage. I cry the whole time I’m digging a hole to bury him in. Dem doesn’t say a word. Nothing. He stands there like a statue, watching me dig. Then he turns around and walks away.”
“That…doesn’t sound like Dem.” Sanah felt sure as emotionless as he pretended to be, Dem would never have just watched something like that and done nothing.
Cannon sat forward suddenly, reversing their hands so that he was the one gripping hers, a little harder than necessary. “No, it’s exactly like Dem, and that is why I’m telling you this. He walks away, and it’s the last I see of him that entire day and the next. I go home. I don’t tell anyone what happened, because in my family, showing any weakness is an invitation to be destroyed. I hide in my room until I don’t have a choice but to go to class the following morning. I know they’ll be there, waiting for me, all smiles and smirks, excited to see the effect of their little surprise.
“But when I finally leave my room, my mother tells me not to bother. Classes are cancelled. A terrible thing has happened. And just for a second, I think ‘How does she know?’ But then I realize that my terrible thing can’t be what she’s talking about. They would never cancel classes over a dog.” Cannon leaned back, but he still kept hold of her hand. Sanah’s heart was pounding, her mouth dry.
“A terrible tragedy, my mother says. Three of my cousins are dead. Dem is responsible.”
Sanah flinched. Cannon nodded, watching her closely.
“That is why Dem is dangerous, Sanah. That is what makes him different from everyone else. In the old days of the Commonwealth, before we were exiled, the Talented were used to fill many roles. Advisors, spies, soldiers, assassins. I’m sure you’ve studied the histories, but there are things you won’t find in there because no one wanted them written down. Experiments that twisted Talent to get particular results. There are Talented who can track anyone based on a psychic imprint. We call them Hunters. There are Talented who know instantly the most efficient way to kill – me, you, or anyone. They sense it the way you or I sense emotion. They can literally kill you with a thought. We call them Killers.”
Sanah stared down at her drink. “Are you telling me that Dem is one of these Killers?”
“I think you know.”
The sympathy in Cannon’s voice poured into Sanah through the physical connection of their hands, making her stomach sick. “This is why people fear him.”
“You have to understand something. Killers do feel emotion. They just don’t process it like the rest of us. They struggle with making emotional connections. They don’t empathize on a human level. If you feel anger and grief, a Killer doesn’t see that and think I know what that feels like because I’ve lost someone before. They see a problem, find a solution, and act on it.”
“You’re saying that I’m a problem Dem doesn’t know how to solve?”
“I’m saying that what he’s feeling about you is a problem.”
Sanah didn’t say anything for a long time. She sat and stared into her glass, processing. Cannon let her, nursing his own drink. She felt like something fragile and fledgling she’d barely begun to identify was dying inside of her. Finally, she looked up and met Cannon’s eyes.
“How does someone without the ability to empathize fall in love?”
Cannon shook his head. “I don’t know. Until three days ago, I would have told you that a Killer never has.”
Chapter Ten
Go talk to her. The message from Cannon did not come as a surprise to Dem. The fact that it took him a few minutes to frame a response did. He sat at his desk, staring sightlessly at the datapad in his hand. He’d spent the early hours of the morning cleaning up a handful of reports. Though the pirates as a whole were busy fighting mercenaries, Nemesis had been unusually quiet in recent days, giving him very little to do just when he wanted nothing more than to be distracted.
I don’t know what to say, he sent back. How did he explain to her what he was? A woman as caring and open as Sanah would have no basis for understanding. An empath was as far from his own state of being as it was possible to get.
You’ll figure it out. There was no give in Cannon’s tone. I will order you to do it if I have to. She’s asking questions. It’s disrupting.
An instant flare of emotion filled Dem. Cannon criticizing Sanah whipped a dangerous lash of anger through him. The casing of the datapad he held cracked.
Shit like that is going to keep happening until you handle this. You’re a danger to the rest of the ship, Security Chief.
I know.
Ignoring the problem hasn’t made it go away. Look. Cannon sighed. I told her some of it. What you are. The rest is up to you. Just…talk to her.
Cannon waited. Dem said nothing.
Or, I suppose I could always send Treon to—
No. I will speak with her.
Today, Dem.
Carefully, he set aside the datapad. Cannon, if I hurt her…
You won’t. A pause. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll have my dogs standing by.
Cannon never referred to the unit as “his” dogs, even though Dem had trained them specifically to serve as the king’s guard. Usually, he assigned them as needed throughout the ship. Dem had once seen them escorting a class of children on a field trip. Granted, one of those children had recently survived a beating from a father who should have known better, and the presence of the king’s dogs was no doubt designed to send a message of reassurance and protection. Dem, however, had trained them to defend against and take down the most dangerous foes. Even Killers like himself, if it ever came down to it. And Cannon knew that.
It does. Thank you.
Left with no reason to delay, Dem left his office. A short time later, he found himself outside the hatch of Sanah’s room. Haggerty had escorted Nayla away just a short time ago. He was reaching out to mentally announce his presence when the hatch opened.
Sanah stood there, her hair pulled back, dressed for the day in a jacket and pants that looked tailored to her small frame. Wordlessly, she held out a thermal cup steaming with coffee. She didn’t like coffee, which meant she’d known he was coming. He took it, not sure what else to do, and when she turned around and walked back inside the room, he followed. The cup, at least, gave his hands something to do. It was a new experience for him, this unsettled feeling that made him want to move and do something. Sanah went and sat at the small table, picking up her own cup of tea and taking a sip.
“You were expecting me.” Dem winced. He was off to a great start, stating the obvious.
“Cannon let me know you were coming.”
Dem frowned, looking down into his coffee. He didn’t sit, because this restlessness made him feel too agitated to be easy. “He said he spoke to you. At some length.” He paused. “About me.”
“So he did. He told me a story from your childhood. About him, you, and a stray dog.”
Shocked, Dem stilled. “He told you about that?”
“Yes,” she said, the word measured and even. “I think it painted a pretty clear picture, and it went a long way to explaining what you are.”
He studied her. She looked calm. Her face was not any paler than usual, her eyes and hands were steady. He could not feel the rhythm of her heartbeat moving faster than normal.
“You…aren’t afraid of me?”
“I probably should be. But no.” Sanah smiled, and Dem felt a tension within him he hadn’t even been aware of relax. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Because you thought I’d be afraid when I found out? Or were you trying to protect me—from yourself?”
Dem had given that very question a lot of thought over the last few days. “Both, I think.”
Sanah stood up, coming around the table until she was standing only a step away from him. “That is exactly why I’m
not afraid. You promised me you would protect me when I came aboard this ship, and you meant it with everything that you are. You strike me as a man who doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.”
He frowned. “That is normally true, however—”
“Stop.” Sanah held up a hand. “Just stop, Dem. You’re going to tell me what a dangerous man you are. I’ve heard it, believe me. That’s all anyone has said to me in the last few days, the few who would speak to me, that is. But you know what I’ve seen? A man who is so determined to protect me that at the first sign of an issue, he removed himself from my presence.” She sighed. “Look, I’m an empath. I get to know people based on the feelings I pick up from them. I sense the real emotions behind the fancy words they say. Or behind the silence when they choose not to speak. I know when someone is lying to themselves, or what they really feel about that person they’re just pretending to be nice to. I may not have known you long, but my feeling tells me that you would sooner kill yourself than go back on your word and harm me. And I trust my feelings.”
Dem was struck utterly mute. He didn’t know what to say or how to respond to such an unconditional level of trust. No one in his life, not once, not ever, had given him such a precious gift before. He opened his mouth, and then simply closed it again. After a moment, he shook his head as if to clear it.
“Sanah—”
Just as he was about to speak, she staggered suddenly, her face draining of color, and grabbed at the edge of the table to catch herself.
“Nayla?” she whispered.
An onslaught of wordless images hit Dem from Haggerty. A face he only vaguely knew, one of the techs who worked under Bruzer. Nayla, looking terrified. A lift, a deck letter, blood all over the metal walls and floor for the second time in as many days. Dem had a feeling it wasn’t Nayla’s.
Haggerty? Answer me, damn it!
The lack of response wasn’t a good sign.
He was already out the door and down the corridor, with no memory of moving. He knew roughly where they had to be, had automatically chosen a direction that would flank them. There was more than one way down to E-Deck. He stopped immediately when he realized Sanah was with him.
“She’s my sister,” she said before he could speak. “She’s frightened, angry, and in shock. I’m going.”
He didn’t have time to argue. He was too busy ordering the flight deck and every airlock on the ship sealed off. How in the hell had some tech taken out Haggerty?
He didn’t think he’d spoken aloud, but he must have, because Sanah answered him. Her voice was strangely calm as Dem led her into a lift and used his ability to trigger the controls.
“He’s not your tech, not anymore. It’s Niall. I can feel him, his determination, his anger, and the terror of the man he’s using.” She sucked in a breath. “I didn’t know he could do this.”
“He can’t get off the ship with her.” Dem believed it. His voice allowed no room for argument.
“I hope.”
“He won’t.” He would kill the tech and Niall both before he let that happen.
Seeing how colorless her face was, Dem reached out and brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek, surprising them both with the gesture. Awareness flared immediately, that instant punch of heat that happened whenever he touched her. He pulled his hand back, fingers curling into a fist at his side.
“You have terrible timing,” Sanah said with a tense smile.
“Yes,” he agreed as the lift came to a stop. “Stay behind me at all times, you understand?”
“I understand.”
The doors opened, and Dem stepped out first, keeping Sanah positioned behind him. The first thing he heard was Nayla, crying and begging her brother to let her go. The curve of the corridor hid them from view.
He is powerful, Dem.
Treon. He was actually glad to hear from his brother, for once. Make sure power to that lift and all the others is disrupted. I don’t want him getting off this level. I’ve got guards at all the emergency tubes.
Done. It was clever of him, don’t you think, controlling the minds of others in order to get onboard and take her?
Others?
There are three. He must be very skilled to control so many at once. Even I would be hard pressed.
That was just perfect.
The girl could free herself, but she won’t harm them because she believes those he’s using to be innocent.
Are they?
I believe so, yes.
That was unfortunate, but it wouldn’t stop Dem from dropping them to free Nayla and get rid of Niall.
You cannot. One of them is Leanne.
Dem went cold.
As I said before, she’s pregnant. If at all possible, we must recover both her and the girl unharmed.
It was either sheer luck on his part, or Niall knew about their situation and just how reluctant they’d be to harm a woman, particularly a pregnant one. Had he picked it up from Sanah’s mind?
Besides, killing the hosts may deal with the immediate problem, or it may not. He may be powerful enough to control their bodies even after their minds are gone. And if not, he will simply go find others to possess. His shields are quite impressive. I don’t think you will reach his mind to kill him.
For Treon to say that, Niall’s shields must be the mental equivalent of a titanium fortress.
Nayla let out a sudden, piercing cry, and behind him, Sanah gasped and surged forward. He grabbed her arm. No!
She’s hurt!
I know, but not seriously. Niall wants her intact too badly.
That seemed to settle her. She stopped pulling at him and stood quietly. He let go of her arm slowly, waiting to grab her if she bolted again. She didn’t.
Let me talk to him, she said. He gave her a disbelieving look, but her jaw set in a stubborn line he was beginning to recognize. I know he won’t listen. That’s not the point. Let me go out and talk to him. I’ll be a distraction for you.
It’s a good idea, Treon said.
I have a better one. Dem was not going to let Sanah risk herself. I take out the men, while you wrest control of Leanne from him. Even if he can continue to manipulate them, it won’t get him very far if their bodies are too broken to function.
Mmm, yes, his brother drawled, a tactic that would no doubt work flawlessly with Niall distracted.
No.
It isn’t your choice to make. Sanah’s voice drew Dem’s attention back to her.
It’s an unnecessary risk.
I disagree.
Dem felt his jaw clench. I am security chief on this ship—
“Niall!”
Shocked, Dem stared at Sanah.
I’m sorry, Dem. I can feel the protective emotion behind your decision. Being protected at my sister’s expense isn’t something I’m willing to do.
Sanah—
“Niall,” she said aloud again, “let Nayla go.”
Dem watched her walk away from him down the hall, and had never felt more powerless in his life. He clenched his fists at his sides so he wouldn’t stop her. It was that, or risk Niall sending one of his puppets around the corner and losing any advantage of surprise.
Sanah didn’t hesitate as she stepped out of his sight.
Your woman is quite courageous.
Stupid to rise to the bait, but Dem did anyway.
She’s not my woman, Treon. And now we have three of them in danger.
Sanah’s heart was a rhythmic rushing sound in her ears. It almost drowned out the sound of Nayla’s pleading and Haggerty’s labored breathing. He was still alive, at least. He lay half propped in front of the lift doors, a weapon in his hand. He still had it pointed at the group of three people around Nayla, despite his obviously distressed state. Blood pooled on the deck beneath him, and his free hand pressed weakly against his side. Pain radiated from him in waves, as well as a growing numbness and iron-willed determination.
Your man’s still alive, she said to Dem. She didn’t add that s
he wasn’t sure he would be for long.
He didn’t answer. She felt him, his presence, yet nothing came from him, not one sliver of emotion, not even irritation at her impulsive action.
Dem? She couldn’t explain the sudden, irrational fear that surged through her. He was there, she knew he was, but she needed to hear it.
I’m here, Sanah. I won’t let anything happen to you or Nayla.
Relief settled the fear and steadied her again.
She looked at Niall. Well, the woman who was holding tightly to Nayla’s arm and looking at her with the familiar tilt of Niall’s head, eyes narrowed in a way she knew well. Two men flanked her to either side, both of them in the stained coveralls of mechanics the universe over. They looked at her with expressions identical to the woman’s, an eerie mimicry that made bile rise in her throat. They also seemed a bit battered and bruised themselves as they cautiously circled her. One had a knife in his hand that looked as though it came from the galley. Blood colored the steel blade a bright red, dulling to red-brown as it dried.
Their fear, confusion, and anger beat against her shields. Niall’s resolve and frustration joined them. She took a deep breath, wishing for about the thousandth time that she’d been born with a more useful, proactive Talent.
“Sanah.” Tears tracked down Nayla’s face. The woman with a grip on her arm was taller than Nayla, and she was stronger. She gave her a rough shake.
“Quiet, little one.” She looked at Sanah. “No need to be difficult. You want to stay with these pirates, by all means, stay. But Nayla comes with me. Say your good-byes and be gone.”
“Niall, please. How do you intend to get off the ship? You can’t even get off this deck.”
The woman sighed with Niall’s impatient scowl. “These fine gentlemen will be helping me. I was simply—” She stopped with a sudden frown, head cocked like she was listening to something. Sanah didn’t hear anything.
Please don’t come rushing in here, she thought at Dem.
Sanah. She’d been expecting Dem’s voice, but it was Cannon in her head. Let’s try this your way. If Dem goes in, some of these people will die. But you can use your gift to make Niall relinquish control. Feed their fear back to them.