Mastering Their Human Page 2

  “We set up a sort of sting,” he explained, willing to postpone fulfillment of his obvious need until her spirit was more at ease. “That’s when we recovered Karris and caught Howyn with his pants down. Figuratively, thank the gods.”

  “Was General Bryson the one who turned on Howyn?” Bryson was the only one she could think of in a position to know enough to bring the chancellor down. Lorelle only knew many of the players by name, but at least the names were becoming familiar. This was her life now, her people. It was right that she understand the forces driving them.

  “The very same. Howyn tried to pretend ignorance and blame it all on Bryson. Bryson is nobody’s fool. He’d expected he might be thrown to the wolves at some point, so he’d been recording conversations and compiling documentation for years.”

  “Then it’s over? Howyn’s scheme to create the perfect weapon, or whatever it was he was trying to do, failed?”

  Mal Ton hesitated, his hands settling on her waist. “Is life ever that easy?”

  “Not on Stilox.” Having him spread out beneath her, hard and waiting inside her, was more than a little distracting. “What went wrong?”

  “When the specter team arrived at the lab where they expected to find Brianna and the nanotechnology used to modify Karris, they found a ransacked building and little else.”

  “Someone beat them to the finish line?”

  “The timing was too convenient. It had to be someone very close to Howyn or Bryson.”

  “You obviously have an idea. Just spit it out.”

  “Nehalem.”

  Lorelle stiffened, instinctively drawing away from Mal Ton. His hands tightened on her waist, preventing her retreat. She’d only met Nehalem Bryson once, but once had been enough. Nehalem was the first lesser wife of General Bryson. More important, she was an auburn-haired beauty who ruthlessly used every asset at her disposal to get what she wanted. Lorelle had disliked her on sight. The fact that Mal Ton’s path had briefly crossed with Nehalem’s had nothing to do with her passionate antipathy, at least none Lorelle was willing to admit.

  “So the red-haired slut double-crossed her husband while he was busy double-crossing Howyn?”

  “That’s our best guess. Nehalem was one of several suspects until yesterday morning. Then she shot to the top of the list.”

  “What happened yesterday?”

  “We found Max’s body. Someone drained him of mutant energy and then slit his throat. The only person we know of who has an ability anything like that is Nehalem. It’s a bit of a stretch for her, but if she used the nanites on herself, there’s no telling what she’s capable of doing now.”

  Lorelle tossed her hair over her shoulders and closed her eyes, using the momentary darkness to lock in each piece of information. “I can see why Nehalem would raid the lab. She was always drawn to power and mutant abilities, but why would she need Brianna?” She opened her eyes and searched Mal Ton’s expression. When she found no answers there, she accessed their link. The meld was still new and at times intimidating. They blended naturally when their emotions ran high, but at times like this, his being was so much more intense than hers it was almost painful. She sighed and eased out of the link. “What aren’t you telling me? Who has Brianna? What else is going on?”

  He sat, pulling her close as he wrapped his arms around her. “Sean found her and sneaked her out of the house where she was being held, but at the last moment they tripped an alarm. They were being pursued by Howyn’s men. Sean turned long enough to take out the guards, and when he turned back around, Brianna was gone.”

  “Gone. What do you mean gone? Where would she go? She’s on an alien world. She can’t even speak the language, for God’s sake! Someone must have snatched her while Sean’s back was turned.”

  “We haven’t discounted that possibility, but everyone involved in the original project is in custody.”

  “Except Nehalem.”

  “You said it yourself. Nehalem has no reason to want Brianna.” He took her face between his hands and captured her gaze. “She was terrified. She didn’t know if Sean was rescuing her or kidnapping her for someone worse than Howyn. We suspect that instinct took over and she just ran.”

  “Ran where? Where was this house? Where did Sean lose her?” Mal Ton’s expression fell and his mental shields snapped into place. Shit! This was bad. “Tell me.”

  “They were on the border of Silver Hills and Pine Vista, deep in the black zones.”

  Fear slammed into Lorelle with physical force. The Protarian government had quarantined the outlying ‘black zones’ and shut them off from all municipal services centuries before. They had since reverted to lawless, brutal anarchies with primitive ‘only the strong survive’ mentalities. Brianna wasn’t strong. Brianna was beautiful and kind and tenderhearted. She didn’t stand a chance in a place like that.

  “We have to find her,” Lorelle sobbed.

  “Sean knows the black zones. He knows the people and the rules. And he’s a specter. We’d just slow him down.” Mal Ton sounded convincing, but she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “We’ll do whatever we can to help him, but going in ourselves will just create additional targets. Sean’s the best man for the job. We have to let him work.”

  “You don’t know Brianna. She’s not a soldier like me. She’s been protected and sheltered all her life. She’s soft and feminine and… She won’t survive. My God, how will she survive?”

  Lorelle dissolved into tears, knowing there was nothing she could do to prepare Brianna for what awaited her in the black zones. She clung to Mal Ton’s neck and prayed for protection and mercy, hoping God could hear her from the war-scarred isolation of Stilox.

  Chapter One

  “I don’t understand it, sir.” Tanner stood before Kellan with his hands clasped behind his back. His features were carefully devoid of emotion and his even tone gave nothing away. “It’s almost as if she can’t understand anything I’ve said to her.”

  Kellan studied his interrogator through narrowed eyes. Tanner was the best. Never before had he failed to extract the information Kellan requested. Of course, few bothered to report their failures, knowing how little patience he had for incompetence. These were harsh times, times that required sacrifice and discipline from everyone.

  “Have you tried other languages?” He stepped past the interrogator and started down the corridor. Tanner fell in step beside him, his posture still tense and defensive.

  The woman had been found in a laboratory that had been secretly erected well within the United Territories. It hadn’t been his intention for her to be the only one left to interrogate, but the raid hadn’t gone as planned. She was either Protarian elite or one of Fane’s mutants. Either way she was going to tell him everything he wanted to know about the illegal operation before he set her free. If she was smart enough to start cooperating while he was still in a generous mood.

  He’d only caught a glimpse of her during the raid. The strike had been fast and focused. He’d been shocked by the presence of an old friend and the team had scattered to avoid identification. It had been years since he’d seen Sean Wylie, but his apparent involvement with the woman made Kellan even more certain she was a mutant. And mutants were far more dangerous than the arrogant elite.

  “When she wouldn’t respond to any dialect of Protarian, I tried Stilox, Semberian, and Frontu,” Tanner explained. “Even if she was born in the Underground, she should be able to speak one of those languages.”

  They descended a staircase then took the hallway to the left. This building had once been a city jail. Its cells had antiquated bars and metal locks that required no power source. Rationing was a way of life in the zones and Kellan led by example, continually finding ways to stretch the depleted resources.

  “Was she silent the entire time or did she attempt to communicate with you?” Kellan mused as they neared the higher security areas. A guard snapped to attention and opened a metal gate to let
them pass. “Some telepathic species evolve beyond the need for verbal communication. Perhaps she’s not indigenous to this star system.”

  “Her skin is unusually pale, but I figured that was just from living underground. For a while she tried to speak. If those words were a legitimate language, I sure as hell didn’t recognize it. Then she just stared off into space, looking pathetic and dejected.”

  “Which strategies have you used?”

  “The usual. Darkness. Isolation. Auditory deprivation followed by sudden motivational sounds. I didn’t see the need to move on to anything painful until I was absolutely certain she can speak our language.”

  Kellan opened the door to the observation booth and stepped inside. He turned toward the subject of their discussion and an odd tension gripped his gut. The woman stood before him naked, her slender arms raised above her head and manacled at the wrist. There were no bruises marring her ivory skin or any other signs of physical abuse and still he felt agitated.

  Nudity and humiliation were standard strategies for interrogation. Tanner had done nothing different with this woman than he’d done with every other person he’d been assigned. It didn’t seem to matter. Kellan forced his muscles to relax and dragged his gaze away from the helpless female.

  “She is either incredibly crafty or she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He did his best to sound casual, but his mouth was suddenly dry.

  “She wasn’t just caught up in this,” Tanner objected. “She was sneaking around with Sean. You saw her yourself.”

  “I know.” He paused, rubbing his scruffy chin as he considered his options. Tanner had stripped her naked and left her in chains. Why was that thought so disconcerting? Tanner had been doing his job, nothing more, nothing less. “I’m going to try something different. Go get Ceddrik.”

  “Ceddrik? Your mystic? I don’t understand.”

  None of Kellan’s men knew the true extent of Ceddrik’s abilities, or his limitations. It was a mystique Kellan fostered intentionally. Most presumed the enigmatic man was little more than a slave, while others whispered of his godlike powers. Kellan used both misconceptions to his advantage.

  He made a bland gesture toward the woman. “After two days with you, I think she’ll respond best to someone less… aggressive. That’s obviously not me.”

  “I see your point, sir. I’ll send Ceddrik to you right away.” Tanner bowed his head and backed out of the small room.

  Scooting a chair up to the wide console, Kellan situated himself in front of the controls and glanced at the rows of empty screens. Most of the equipment required more power than they could spare. This setup must have been something to see in its heyday. Sensors to monitor every bodily function, every physiological reaction to every question. Talk about lie detection.

  A slow, knowing smile wiped away his momentary tangent. All the technology in the world couldn’t match Ceddrik’s empathic receptors, when Ceddrik chose to open his mind to others. That was their agreement. If Ceddrik said no, Kellan had to accept his refusal and let it go without argument. So far Ceddrik agreed more often than he refused, so Kellan didn’t regret the condition. But what was taking him so long?

  Kellan drummed his fingers impatiently against the control panel and a light in the interrogation room flashed on. The woman raised her head. She blew a long strand of silky dark hair away from her face and looked around, her expression cautious and filled with dread.

  A distinct peak in the front of her hair created a heart-shaped frame for her delicate features. Large violet eyes, a dainty nose, and a mouth both sweet and sensuous. She caught her full lower lip between her teeth and whipped her head toward the observation window. Her breasts swayed with the sudden movement, drawing his gaze to the perfect, rose-tipped mounds.

  “Is someone there?” Her voice was soft and tremulous. She spoke Standard, the intergalactic language used by tradesmen and smugglers.

  How odd. Few in the zones had ever been off-world. It wasn’t surprising Tanner hadn’t recognized her words. The real question was, why would a mutant only speak Standard? Or what did she gain by pretending Standard was the only language she knew?

  Interested to see how cooperative she would be if he bridged the communication gap, he activated the intercom and asked, “What’s your name?”

  Her eyes widened and a soft gasp escaped her parted lips. “You speak Standard. Oh, thank God! Can you let the others know I’ve been trying to cooperate? I’ve tried to understand what they want, but it’s almost impossible when I don’t… Are you still there? Where am I? Why have I been brought here?”

  She hadn’t answered his question. Without even offering her name, she smoothly slipped into her own interrogation. As if suddenly remembering she was naked, she bent one leg and pressed her thighs together. The subtle motion guided his gaze to her mound and the curls she couldn’t quite conceal.

  Desire stirred within his body, a natural reaction to her nude form. She was lithe and softly rounded rather than lush and overtly feminine like the lovers he generally favored. Still, her legs were long and firmly muscled. They would grip him strongly as her passage stretched to take his length.

  Pleasure and pain, orgasm and anticipation, these were all useful tools when extracting information. If Tanner had been able to communicate with her, he would have doubtlessly used them all. The thought sent a shocking burst of anger surging through his mind. Tanner would not touch her! No one would touch her but him.

  “Did I say something wrong?” The woman lowered her head, hiding her face behind the fall of her hair.

  Kellan wanted to lift her face, to look into her eyes. Was she truly frightened or was cunning hiding behind the vulnerability?

  As if in response to his frustration, Ceddrik stepped into the observation booth. You summoned me, my lord.

  The mystic possessed a variety of skills Kellan had found useful down through the years. His empathic sensitivity allowed him to determine the truthfulness of statements and the most likely motivation for deception. And when passive empathy failed, he had other, more intrusive skills.

  Kellan turned his head, making sure Ceddrik could see his lips move as he said, “Tell me what you sense as I speak with this woman. Anything could be significant, so tell me everything that comes to you. Do you agree?”

  Ceddrik looked at the woman for a moment and then inclined his head. I agree. Though both deaf and unable to speak, Ceddrik’s skilled lip-reading combined with his telepathic abilities allowed him to communicate. Sending and receiving thoughts, however, required a mental link and Ceddrik found few worthy of such an intimate connection.

  Kellan remained angled so Ceddrik could see his face as he reactivated the intercom. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

  She looked up, her gaze wide and luminous, shimmering with unshed tears. Another barrage of emotion assailed Kellan. Lust smoldered beneath the surface while possessive urges combined with an unexpected spike of protectiveness.

  Protective? Him? He would not coddle a possible spy.

  Forcing the emotions back with a mental snarl, he refocused on his purpose. Information about the lab was all he needed from this woman.

  “Are they going to hurt me?” Tears trailed down her cheeks as she lowered her lashes and her harsh sob made her breasts quiver.

  Muting the intercom, Kellan asked Ceddrik, “What do you sense?”

  Fear and desolation, as if she has lost everything. Accusation hardened Ceddrik’s baby blue eyes. How long has she been your captive? This woman is on the verge of emotional collapse.

  The corner of Kellan’s mouth quirked as a wicked plan unfolded in his mind. “If she is that close to the edge, perhaps she deserves a break. I say we go rescue her.”

  Rescue her from what?

  “From the overlord, of course.”

  * * *

  Hating each stinging tear that escaped beneath her lashes, Brianna was simply unable to suppress the emotions buf
feting her composure. She’d been brave for so long. She’d been strong and optimistic, and one by one all the others had died!

  She’d been transferred from keeper to keeper, place to place, never being told why she’d been taken or what was going to happen to her. She’d been able to piece together some of it on her own, but much still made no sense at all.

  This planet was Protaria. The chancellor had originally kidnapped her and the other human females, but a mutant rebel named Max had shot their ship right out of the sky. She’d been recaptured by the chancellor, and just when things looked hopeless, Sean had appeared, materializing out of the wall like some sort of living ghost. He’d promised he was rescuing her. He’d promised the worst was over.

  But the worst wasn’t over. She’d been kidnapped again, snatched away from her knight in shining armor before he could escort her to safety. And this last batch of ruffians might well be the worst. They were huge, uncouth barbarians who couldn’t even speak a language she understood.

  Miraculously she’d survived the entire ordeal without being raped or beaten. Just humiliated and terrified. When the interrogator stripped her naked and chained her hands, she thought for sure the real abuse was about to begin. But all he’d done was scowl at her and grow progressively more frustrated. Well, he wasn’t the only one!

  “Hello!” She gave herself a firm mental shake. Someone had spoken to her in Standard. She hadn’t imagined the voice. The unseen man could translate for her. She had to convince him to speak on her behalf, to explain what the hell was going on! “Why did you stop talking? Please say something. Hello?”

  Without warning the door swung open and two men moved into the room. One was tall and dark, the other short and blond. The dark one was so tall and broad she could see him clearly with the blond man standing in front of him. She’d thought the interrogator was intimidating, but he was nothing compared with this new threat.