by Kate Rudolph
“I love you too,” he said.
Amy’s heart stuttered. Too? Oh. “You heard?” she asked.
He just smiled.
“Yeah. I love you.” And she couldn’t stop grinning. She was doing it so much her face hurt.
“Good.” Doryan kissed her again.
But before they could start anything up once more, he pulled away. “I got a comm call from Raze,” he said. “They want me to come in next week. But he’s confident it’s just a formality. Soon we’ll have this whole thing behind us.”
“And NaMasee?” She didn’t like the guy and she didn’t want him anywhere near her mate.
“He said he talked to him and NaMasee seemed calm. I’ll be cautious,” he promised, “but things might just turn out okay.”
She hoped so.
She just couldn’t count on it.
Chapter Nineteen
WHEN AMY WENT TO WORK on Monday, Doryan prepared for a job of his own. He didn’t have a uniform to wear to HQ, but he doubted that would matter much. If they wanted him to return to the fold, they’d be able to issue something to him.
Amy had been worried to leave him alone, but Doryan had promised that he’d be alright. He’d lived plenty of years on his own, fighting his own battles. And he doubted he’d have to fight with anything except for words today. The generals would want to confirm that he really was mated, that he’d really regained his emotions. They might have something to say about his delayed return, but he couldn’t be sure.
It hadn’t been logical. It hadn’t been what a soulless should have done. But he’d done it and it was over now.
And he would bet they’d have questions about NaPyrsee. How could they not? Especially if NaMasee had gotten to them first.
But Doryan hadn’t done anything wrong in that regard, and he had to hope that the facts would speak for themselves.
And if they didn’t, he didn’t doubt that his mate would be running to his rescue if he was even a minute late getting home.
The taxi ride to the Detyen headquarters went by smoothly. The buildings they’d been assigned when they arrived were smaller than what their HQ used to be, but he wouldn’t miss the icy moon they’d once called home. It had been impossible to stay outside for long in the perpetual winter and no matter how many layers he wore, he’d never been warm enough.
No, he liked Earth much better. In all regards.
He didn’t recognize the soldiers who met his taxi, but they were both Detyen. They checked him in at a guard station and made him turn in his comm to the guard and then led him into one of the outbuildings. That was a bit strange. Doryan had been under the impression that the meeting would be held in the main building. But he tried to quell his alarm. They weren’t going to hurt him.
Everything was fine.
So why did one of the warriors have his fingers resting on his blaster? And why were they standing so close?
He didn’t like this.
Not at all.
But he followed along. Even if this was some sort of misunderstanding, he’d clear it up when there was less of a chance for violence. He didn’t want to get shot by a blaster, and he didn’t like to think what could happen if they beat him unconscious. Until he was officially no longer listed as soulless, he was in danger of being put down as a danger to others.
He wouldn’t give them the chance.
Was this NaMasee’s doing? Sure, the lieutenant didn’t like him, and sure he’d been friends with NaPyrsee, but would he really be brazen enough to hit Doryan on the Detyen base?
He didn’t know.
Fuck.
The soldiers led him down a dark and narrow hall. The building felt more like a prison than an office building, but there were no bars on the doors. Not that that meant anything. They came to a stop in the middle of the hall and the guard in the lead opened the door.
They shoved Doryan inside and before he could spin around to demand what was going on, the door slammed behind him.
Double fuck.
The room was illuminated by only a sliver of light coming through the window and Doryan had to squint to make anything out. He’d been in worse cells, much worse, but a cell was a cell and he wanted out.
Now.
The room was about twenty paces by twenty paces wide and completely empty. The ground was covered in carpet, but the walls felt like concrete. An improvised cell, then. No one in their right mind would carpet a place like that.
Doryan’s heart beat double time and sweat started to flow. Panic. That was it. The edges of panic setting in. He barely recognized the emotion and he wanted it gone. He couldn’t function if he was too caught up to pay attention.
So he stopped moving. He knew what there was to know about the room. If NaMasee had orchestrated this he wouldn’t have been stupid enough to leave Doryan something he could use, and even if he had, Doryan had to be in the right frame of mind to figure that out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
The bond in his chest thrummed and he could feel it tugging away from the base, out toward wherever Amy was at the moment. Would she feel his distress? He didn’t want her worried, but if something was going wrong, that might be the only way to get help.
If she recognized it.
He’d save that thought for later. He concentrated on his breathing until his heart rate calmed and his eyes adjusted.
There was a faint chemical scent in the air and Doryan wondered if this room had once been a storage closet of some kind. Was it supposed to be a cell or was it especially made for him?
That was a question for later.
Doryan approached the door first. The window might be an option for escape, but they were on the third floor of the building and the drop wouldn’t be pleasant. And that was assuming he could pry the window open.
He listened carefully, but didn’t hear anyone outside. He didn’t know how thick the door was, didn’t know how much sound it would block, but he figured guards would call attention to the door. And he had to believe this whole thing was NaMasee’s doing and that he was acting alone. If the council had wanted to imprison him, they’d at least have said why.
Right?
If he was operating under a faulty assumption, he was going to get killed. But he had no choice to start acting. Waiting around would see him just as dead.
He tested the door and, unsurprisingly, found it locked. It opened inward, so plowing into it wouldn’t do much good, and no matter how hard he tugged, he couldn’t get the damn thing to budge. He tried the handprint lock, but it hadn’t been keyed to him, not that he’d expected it to work.
Even taking his claws to it didn’t do much. Maybe if he had days to dig out, it would work, but he doubted NaMasee would keep him waiting for too long. The man wanted revenge and he wasn’t going to let it get snatched away from him.
The window was just as useless. It was bolted shut and too small for Doryan to fit through.
He was trapped. Well and truly trapped.
The panic bubbled up again and he tamped it down. He wasn’t going to give into it.
But maybe it was time to use the bond. He didn’t know how long he had until NaMasee came to him, but he couldn’t waste a second.
He concentrated on that pull in his chest, grabbing onto the cord with his mind’s eye and tugging, hoping it did something to get Amy’s attention. He’d heard of mated pairs before who had telepathic connections, but nothing like that had happened so far between him and his denya.
Of course, they hadn’t been parted for any length of time either.
Help, he thought along the cord. At Detyen base. Locked in a room. Think it’s NaMasee.
He tried to keep his thoughts short, orderly, as if he was speaking over a shoddy connection and had to condense everything into the fewest words possible. He kept repeating, sending all his love down the line and mentally begging Amy to hear him.
But the other side of the line didn’t change. He could feel the connection, but not
hing else.
The door flung open and NaMasee stepped in, blaster in hand and a scowl on his face. He shot once and Doryan went down.
AMY STARTED THE DAY off fine, but by midmorning she was filled with nervous energy. She knew Doryan was going to the Detyen base in the hopes of sorting things out and tried to tell herself it was just nerves. But when her stomach churned and she almost threw up her coffee, she started to believe it might be a bit more than that.
“Separation anxiety?” Kyla smirked from her desk. She was looking through the trial contract that Raze had sent over for them to get started monitoring the soulless. The Legion paid well, and if they could lock them down they’d be set for years.
Amy took a sip of water and sat back at her desk. “I feel like…”
“You’re pregnant?” Kyla cackled. She’d been giving Amy shit all morning, and Amy took it like a good friend, but at that she glared.
“No.” A woman felt ill after having sex and suddenly everyone thought she was pregnant. Amy scowled. Her birth control wouldn’t expire for another year and she and Doryan would have a nice long talk before they decided if they wanted kids. Remy had been cute, but Amy wasn’t ready for that.
Kyla’s expression sobered. “You really don’t look too good. What’s up? Are you sick?” Now she was concerned and Amy appreciated it.
Amy took a minute to think. She’d been absolutely fine before she and Doryan parted. And while they hadn’t spent much time separate since they’d bonded, she didn’t think that was the issue. The mated pairs she’d met seemed to spend some time apart with no ill effects, so why would she and Doryan be any different?
Could something be wrong with Doryan?
She was no psychic, but now that they had the bond between them, maybe it could tell her something. She closed her eyes and concentrated on that invisible cord in her chest, gasping as a wave of panic rushed against her.
Her eye snapped open. “It’s Doryan.”
“You’re sure?” Kyla looked even more worried. “How do you know?”
Amy’s hand flew to her chest and she rubbed that spot right under her heart. “The bond. I can feel him, and he’s freaking out.” She jumped up from her chair. “I have to go to him.”
Kyla put her hands up. “Hold on.”
“No!” Amy stormed toward the door.
But her partner was there to stop her. “I’m not saying don’t go, I’m saying think for a minute. That base is more than an hour away. Is there someone you can call? Someone who can check in on him? Tell you if something is up?” Kyla had her hands on Amy’s shoulders as she tried to talk sense into her.
And it was enough to make Amy take a breath. She had a point. If the trouble was going down now then there wasn’t time to wait. Amy broke out of Kyla’s grip and grabbed for her comm. She had Raze’s info up and impatiently waited for him to answer. When he did, she didn’t give him time to talk. “Doryan’s in trouble. I can feel it. He went to the base an hour ago, but I don’t know if he made it there.”
“He hasn’t shown up for our meeting,” Raze replied. “You’re sure he’s here?” Raze turned away from his comm and said something to someone Amy couldn’t see.
“He’s supposed to be.” What if NaMasee had gone to the apartment? What if Doryan had been ambushed?
Raze nodded at whoever he’d spoken with and looked back at her. “He checked in on the base thirty minutes ago. If he’s here, I’ll find him. You have my word.”
Amy disconnected the call. And all that nervous energy came rushing back. This was bad. This was really, really bad.
“So, are we going?” asked Kyla.
“Nothing could keep me away.”
Chapter Twenty
DORYAN FELL TO THE floor, curling in on himself as his vision went blurry for a moment, but he didn’t pass out. He heard the door slammed shut as he writhed in pain and hoped for a second that he’d been left alone. But a shadow fell over him and the kick took him by surprise, expelling what was left of the breath in his lungs.
NaMasee crouched down beside him and trailed a claw along his cheek, pressing hard enough to make Doryan bleed. On top of the kick and the blaster, he barely felt the sting. “A good man died because of you,” the lieutenant scowled.
“What?” It came out more grunt than word, but Doryan was confused. He’d had no part in the murders.
NaMasee kicked him again, but this one was lighter, more of a tap to keep his attention. “He wouldn’t have been at that settlement if he didn’t want to take care of you. For some reason he didn’t want to retire you here. I don’t have any qualms.”
Doryan was almost certain NaPyrsee had wanted to be at the settlement so he could have a rendezvous with his mistress. The location had also happened to be a convenient place to dispose of him. But NaMasee wouldn’t listen to excuses. He’d put the blame on Doryan, even knowing he hadn’t killed anyone, and there was no convincing him otherwise.
Only one of them was making it out of this room on two feet, Doryan realized, and NaMasee had every intention of killing him. No one knew he was on the base and he didn’t have his comm.
He had to best the lieutenant and hope he didn’t have friends standing outside.
All while his body was still trembling from a blaster assault and kicks that had definitely bruised, if not broken, his ribs.
This was going to hurt.
A few weeks ago he might have given up. He’d been soulless then, with a bleak future stretched out until someone else decided he’d used up his usefulness. But that man was gone. He had his emotions back, and a denya waiting for him. He’d found a family. There were things to live for.
And he wasn’t going to let NaMasee take them away.
When NaMasee went to kick him a third time, Doryan rolled with it, using the extra bit of momentum to put more space between them. He didn’t quite spring to his feet, but he managed to get up before the lieutenant could charge, and his claws were out and waiting.
Of course, none of it mattered when NaMasee had a baster. But he’d been so focused on beating Doryan that he’d hastily stuffed the weapon back into its holster, but not secured it in place.
Doryan had to make sure he didn’t have a chance to draw it.
He used the size of the room to his advantage. If it were a little bigger, if he were a little further away, charging his opponent would be suicide. But he had to take a chance. As NaMasee reached for his holster, Doryan moved, crossing the space between them in huge strides and slamming the lieutenant down.
NaMasee fell hard and his blaster fell out of the holster, skidding to the side.
Doryan kicked it before NaMasee could reach it and came down on the lieutenant, using a knee to hold him in place.
It didn’t last for long. NaMasee wanted Doryan dead and he wasn’t about to surrender or play fair.
Claws raked at his pants, tearing the fabric but barely pricking the skin. Doryan pulled away before NaMasee could do real damage, shifting his hips back and grabbing for the other man’s wrists. It wasn’t pretty, and green blood trickled down his fingers as his own claws dug into his opponent’s skin.
They stared at each other, both glaring, both with one hand free to damage and the other immobilized above their heads. They couldn’t stay like this for long. And NaMasee managed to jerk his hips and send Doryan sprawling to the side. In a split second he had to let go of the lieutenant or risk him turning the tables.
And then they were both back on their feet, circling one another and bloodied.
Where was the blaster?
Doryan wanted to look, but he couldn’t give it away. NaMasee would want the weapon just as much and if either of them got to it this thing was over.
But either the lieutenant forgot about it, or he just really wanted to hit Doryan since he charged at him.
Punch. Grunt. Kick. Slice.
Doryan was breathing hard, his time enslaved and his lack of conditioning in the recent months taking their toll. NaMasee might ha
ve been sweating but he didn’t look tired, and for a second doubt crept in and Doryan thought he was unmatched.
No.
Doubt would lose a fight faster than any hit, and he had to put that, and everything else, out of his mind.
The next exchange of blows, Doryan gave everything he had, following up every punch and kick, showing no mercy and giving just as good as he gave. NaMasee’s nose crunched under his fist and his shirt tore where Doryan’s claws dug in. He got his foot under the man and tripped him up, following him in a rain of blows that only ended when NaMasee kicked him away and made him stumble back.
But there was no staying back for long.
He shoved again, sending NaMasee back to the ground, and took grim satisfaction in the pained grunt he forced from the lieutenant.
The man scuttled back and Doryan advanced, getting his hands on the man’s thighs as he tried to turn away. He could end this now, his claws digging deep until he hit something vital and the lieutenant bled out, but Doryan still didn’t want to kill him. There’d been enough death.
But when NaMasee turned back around, blaster in hand, there wasn’t another choice.
“You—” NaMasee opened his mouth, but Doryan didn’t give him time to talk or threaten. He dug his claws deep, tearing through flesh and muscle with a sickening squelch. NaMasee screamed and shot, but the blast went wide and Doryan wasn’t done. Blood poured over his hands but he didn’t let himself show any mercy, not until he heard the blaster clatter to the floor.
Only then did he snap his gaze up to land on it. He reached, getting his hand on the weapon as the door behind him burst open.
“Freeze,” a commanding voice yelled. “Drop the weapon!”
Doryan turned, but he didn’t drop it fast enough, and for the second time in an hour a blaster shot ripped through him.
“OH THANK GOD,” WAS the first thing Doryan heard as he stirred. Then there was a distant whir and a faint beeping. He opened his eyes to blinding whiteness, but a turn of his head revealed his denya sitting beside him, her hands curled around a small metal bar on the side of his bed.