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  “Jillian sensed danger as she and Odintar were headed back here,” Lor explained. “He flashed her to the source of the disruption and they found Gerrod Reynolds.”

  Now that was completely unexpected. “Why would Jillian’s father be a danger to her?”

  Lor shook his head again. “Jillian wasn’t in danger, Gerrod was. In fact his throat had been slit and he’d been left to die.”

  Which explained Larossa’s comment. “Was Odintar able to heal him?”

  “They’re still working on him, so hope for the best. We really need an opportunity to question him.”

  “Gerrod’s still alive,” Blayne announced from the hallway. Elias wasn’t sure how long the other Mystic had been standing there. His attention had been focused on Lor. “But Jillian just told me Gerrod and Odintar both need energy.”

  “Are you going?” Lor asked and Blayne nodded. “Then I’ll stop by later and transfuse them again.”

  Blayne stepped farther into the office. Bates and Larossa automatically moved out of his way. They might not be as awestruck as the Mystics would have liked, but his men could sense real power. “Jillian wanted Elias to know that Jett is expecting a video call from Roxie within the next hour or so. He threatened to call the media if he doesn’t hear from her.”

  Elias rolled his eyes. “As if anyone would believe him. I can see the headline now, Tattoo Artist Kidnapped By Secret Government Operatives. Details to follow on TMZ.”

  Blayne hesitated a moment longer. “Jillian promised Jett she’d make it happen.”

  With a frustrated sigh, Elias rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Roxie isn’t being very cooperative at the moment. I doubt I can convince her to do anything.”

  “You’ll figure out something,” Blayne said with a cheerful smile. Of the three Mystics currently in residence at the Bunker, he was the most likable. Then Blayne looked at Lor and spoke in Ontarian. Lor nodded and Blayne hurried off down the hall.

  The exchange annoyed Elias, but not enough to confront Lor with the rudeness of telling secrets. It was little things like that that made it hard to mesh with the Mystic Militia. “Do you know who tried to take out Gerrod?”

  “My money’s on Sevrin,” Lor told him.

  She topped the list of usual suspects, but they needed to be careful not to be overly focused on any one person. “What’s her motivation?”

  “I’m not sure. All indications were that Gerrod was one of her father’s spies. Maybe he knew too much or maybe he tried to blackmail her.” He shrugged, then added, “She’s the only one on Earth with any connection to Gerrod.”

  “Except for Jillian.” He stopped Lor’s immediate objection with an upraised hand. “I’m not accusing her. Sevrin could have set her up to take the blame.”

  “There are a lot of possibilities and Gerrod is the only one who can confirm the truth. We need to make sure he survives.”

  “Well, I’ll leave that to you and Odintar. I have one seriously pissed-off tattoo artist to deal with.”

  “Good luck with that.” Lor chuckled and turned toward the doorway.

  Chapter Two

  Nazerel stood on the wide railed deck that extended the entire width of the new Team South house. A large two story overlooking Lake Mead, this house was even more luxurious than the one they’d left behind. The area was more secluded, more easily defended than the previous location. Yet defense didn’t seem to be a concern while surrounded by the tranquil beauty of this local. The long narrow lake stretched off into the distance, melding with the horizon. An occasional boat zipped past, but mostly there was vivid blue sky and calm, clear water.

  After spending the majority of his life underground, Nazerel was almost overwhelmed by the vastness. It was a promise whispered on the wind. Freedom. Hope for a life free from manipulation and deceit. A state of existence he had yet to experience.

  When Sevrin told him they were moving operations to a new location, he’d expected a much longer journey. But they hadn’t ventured to another state. They’d barely left Las Vegas. Something kept Sevrin tethered to this area and he needed to discover the nature of her anchor. It might be a weakness he could use against her.

  And, speaking of weaknesses. He shook his head. His instinctive need to protect Roxie had nearly cost him his life. He’d managed to elude the Mystic Militia and return to his men without anyone being the wiser. Still, it had been much too close. No matter how compelling he found these females, he could not allow compassion to endanger his men. He was their leader. He’d convinced them to risk coming to Earth and now it was his responsibility to see that they received the stable, independent lives they’d been promised.

  Someone slid the glass door open and Nazerel glanced over his shoulder. Flynn ambled out onto the deck. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and his clothing was rather wrinkled. Sevrin’s sexual demands were taking their toll on his friend. And knowing Flynn subjected himself to the desires of that Rodyte whore because of Nazerel’s encouragement left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “How are things progressing?” Flynn asked in Rodyte, the language they always used when they were alone. There were a few on Earth who could understand the language—Sevrin and her staff topped the list—but the practice decreased the chances of anything important being overheard by the Mystic Militia.

  “The truck is unloaded and everyone has claimed their bedroom.” He turned around and lightly leaned against the railing. “You’ve been assigned a bed, though you haven’t needed one lately.”

  Flynn made a derisive sound as he gazed out across the water. “I’ve needed nothing but a bed lately. That lusty bitch can’t get enough.”

  “Well, she hasn’t replaced you yet, so our strategy is working.”

  Pivoting to face him, Flynn suddenly looked grim. “You might not think so when you hear the latest.”

  Nazerel tensed. There never seemed to be any good news with Sevrin. She’d lured him and his companions to Earth with the promise of a life lived on their own terms, yet she was the most controlling master they’d ever served. “What now?”

  “She took me to the new lab.” Flynn’s voice filled with frustration as he added, “It’s impressive.”

  “Is it nearby?” Anticipation surged through Nazerel. If they could seize possession of Sevrin’s headquarters, they might finally be able to control her. “Is that why she insists on staying in this area?”

  Flynn cringed, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “We’re not allowed to know the actual location. She drugged me before we left.”

  “Why the hell did you allow her to drug you?” Seducing her for information was one thing. Why would Flynn surrender control to that cold-hearted whore?

  “I’m not sure ‘allow’ is the right word. She told me we were going for a ride then shoved a needle in my neck.”

  Flynn was looking everywhere but at him and a faint flush colored his cheeks. Flynn was lying to him. “You weren’t able to flash away from her before the drug kicked in?”

  He started to say something then sighed. “She threatened to replace me if I didn’t let her do it. Unless I was willing to have debased myself for nothing, I had no other choice.”

  Nazerel relaxed. He benefited from Flynn’s access to Sevrin, so he wasn’t about to ridicule the decision. If Flynn lost favor with Sevrin, Nazerel might have to swallow his pride and allow her to— Never! Even the thought of her touch was repellent. “You were already inside the new lab when you woke up?”

  “It was worse than that. She’d put this band around my neck. I don’t know how it worked, but I was weak as a child and unable to access any of my powers.”

  “A suppression collar.” Nazerel turned back to the railing, too conflicted to maintain a calm expression. This was bad, really bad. If Sevrin now had the ability to render Shadow Assassins helpless, she would be impossible to control. “The elders used to talk about them. Bilarrians developed them decades ago. But I didn’t think they worked on hybrids.”

 
; “They do now. I’ve never been that helpless. It was horrible.”

  “When and why did she take it off?” He turned his head, assessing Flynn’s response.

  “That’s part of a much longer story.”

  “So get to it,” Nazerel snapped. “I’m already tired of this conversation.”

  “She’s established new rules with ridiculous penalties for disobedience.”

  With a bland chuckle, Nazerel crossed his arms over his chest. Now that he knew Sevrin had the collar, he’d make damn sure she never got close enough to use it. Still, he needed to know what she intended. “What rules?”

  “No more females in the team houses.”

  Nazerel just grinned. Until they claimed their mates, the only females they interacted with were pleasure givers. Pleasure givers were known to be accommodating. The rule was an annoyance, nothing more. “What else?”

  “No more unsanctioned hunts.”

  “What do you mean by unsanctioned? We only hunt those who appear in the notebook, which means they’ve been sanctioned by Sevrin.”

  “That’s not what she meant. From now on, she will choose one hunter at a time and he will bring his mate back to the old warehouse. He and his mate will be drugged and he will be collared before they’re taken to the new facility. Once there, they will be allowed to bond, but only under strict supervision.”

  It was obvious Flynn was reciting Sevrin’s words, issuing her commands. Nazerel could almost hear her voice coming out of Flynn’s mouth. Frustration and anger boiled up inside him, but he captured the intensity, storing the energy for his inevitable confrontation with their useless employer. “That’s ridiculous and she knows it.”

  “She claims her men will shoot anyone who violates the new rules.”

  He glared at Flynn, his aggravation focused on the issue not the man. “They’d have to find us first.”

  “Guards are already stationed at the new team houses and they’ve been equipped with tracking devises.”

  Nazerel scoffed. This became more preposterous by the moment. “It takes a Shadow Assassin to track a Shadow Assassin. Has she sent to Ontariese for reinforcements?”

  “She didn’t need anything from Ontariese. Our nanites were manufactured on Rodymia.”

  Dread washed over Nazerel in a slow-moving flood. For the past twenty years Shadow Assassins had been using nanites to boost their natural abilities and allow their bodies to regenerate. The elders had worked closely with Rodyte scientists to perfect the technology. Had the Rodytes knowingly created this weakness and had they created others as well? The possibilities were daunting.

  Rather than losing himself in speculation, he needed to focus on one detail at a time. “They can track our nanites?”

  Flynn nodded. “She told me she’d prefer to work with us, but she’s willing to kill us all and start over with a more cooperative group of recruits.”

  “Or make examples of a few so the rest will fall in line?”

  Flynn nodded, looking defeated and ashamed. “And she meant every word. She’s just waiting for someone to defy her so she can demonstrate her power over us.”

  Nazerel clenched his fists and cursed under his breath. That conniving bitch. “If I’d responded well to threats and intimidation, I’d still be on Ontariese.”

  “Then you’ll really enjoy her final stipulation.”

  Forcing his fingers to uncurl, he looked at Flynn. “What stipulation?”

  “Each hunter must spend one night in her bed before he’ll be allowed to hunt. She wants a child, but she’s decided that fathering her child is too high an honor for any one man.”

  Nazerel scoffed. “It doesn’t matter how many of us screw her. One of us will have to form a mating bond for her to conceive.”

  “And once he’s bonded with her, there would be no reason for him to hunt.” Again Flynn nodded. “I’m well aware and so is Sevrin. She might have claimed she wants a child, but this is simply a way for her to exert her authority over us. Or her scientists have found a way around the limitation. I don’t know which. When she told me all this, I was fighting the overwhelming need to strangle her, so I didn’t ask a lot of questions.”

  Much of Sevrin’s control was an illusion Nazerel allowed because they were working toward the same goal. But if she continued to push like this, she’d find out that his reputation for ruthlessness was well-deserved. She’d promised that she would find a way to transfer their abilities to their mates and it was past time for her to fulfil that promise. If that claim, like all her other promises, had been nothing more than empty air, then her days were numbered.

  “Have you told the others about the new rules?” Nazerel asked.

  “Not yet. Most of this we can work around, but their ability to track us is a serious problem.”

  Nazerel nodded as he milled over the implications. There was no way around it. He’d postponed the inevitable long enough. The Sevrin problem needed to be solved permanently. “Why did she free you from the collar? It would have sent a more powerful message if you delivered your dire warnings while helpless.”

  “I think she only has one. She took it off me so we could use it on someone else.”

  Something in Flynn’s voice, and the ambiguity of his statement, made Nazerel curious. “Who did you use it on?”

  “Gerrod Reynolds.”

  That was so unexpected, Nazerel faced Flynn again. “Why did you collar Gerrod? He’s been on Earth for decades and hasn’t caused any trouble.”

  “Sevrin considered him a loose end and she hates loose ends.”

  “You killed him?” Nazerel was a mercenary. Death was his stock and trade, but he never killed needlessly and never without a damn good reason.

  Flynn lowered his gaze and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I slit his throat, but he’d already started to teleport by the time she got the collar around his neck. He flashed out of sight, so we’re not sure if we finished the job or not.”

  “There’s no honor in such an act.” His tone was tight with displeasure. “Why did you agree to do it?”

  Flynn’s gaze snapped back to his. “Your hands are far from clean, Nazerel. Don’t pretend assassination is beneath you.”

  “I have taken lives during war or to prevent further atrocities. There is a difference between political assassination and pointless murder.”

  “You have also carried out the sentence on those who have earned the fate.” Challenge dripped off every word.

  “What had Gerrod Reynolds done to deserve death?”

  “He ruthlessly seduced countless females for the express purpose of getting them pregnant. Our infamous notebook is filled with the daughters of Gerrod and this Dirty Dozen.”

  “Their actions were despicable, but they do not warrant death. Did he rape these women? Use a Mystic compulsion to make them want him? That was not my understanding of how they operated.”

  “If I’d refused, she would have left me collared and in a cage,” Flynn snarled, but regret soldered just beyond the anger in his eyes. “Because I was willing to take the life of an aging reprobate, she now trusts me implicitly.”

  Despite the frustration raging within him, Nazerel backed off. They’d both known things would become progressively more complicated the deeper she took Flynn into her trust. Still, Shadow Assassins lived by a strict code of conduct. It was the only thing separating them from cold-blooded murderers.

  It was obvious Flynn needed reassurance, so Nazerel said, “You did what had to be done. We must focus on the things we can control.”

  “And fight to regain control over the things we’ve lost,” Flynn stressed.

  “Agreed.” He paused for a moment as he composed his thoughts. “Where is the collar now?”

  Flynn began to fidget again. “Gerrod was still wearing it when he flashed. I’m not sure Sevrin has another.”

  “We have to find out what happened to him. If he ended up with the Mystic Militia, they could backward engineer the damn thing
.”

  “Sevrin is frantically searching. I’ll let you know if she finds out anything.”

  Nazerel nodded. And I’ll warn the men telepathically before I explain the new rules. Sevrin’s guards are doubtlessly watching, waiting for us to react to the new routine. The men must seem suitably outraged without saying anything we don’t want the guards to overhear.

  A wise precaution.

  “Tell me about this new lab. How much of it were you allowed to see?” They always tried to maintain an audible conversation, hoping it would mask their telepathic exchange.

  “It’s huge. She said it had been under construction for the past two years. She also received three shiploads of technology and personnel from Rodymia. She’s convinced the next attempt at transference will succeed.”

  And you have no idea where the facility is located?

  I don’t know how long I was unconscious, so I can’t even guess how far we drove. My instincts tell me we hadn’t gone far, but I honestly don’t know.

  Nazerel acknowledged the telepathic information with a subtle nod. “Let your mistress know I’d like to speak with her at her earliest convenience.” If I take this without argument, she’ll know we’re up to something.

  * * * * *

  Lying on her back across the narrow bunk, Roxie extended her legs up the wall and considered her shoes. She loved boots with stiletto heels, owned more pairs than she cared to admit. But they were impractical for work so she tended to wear slip-ons or sandals. Today it had been both, a pair of slip-on sandals. Rather than providing her with a long, dangerous spike, the rubber soles and simple thong-style upper were utterly useless as a weapon. She was draped in chains, but they were strictly ornamental. Even if she tripled the strands and swung them like a whip, they wouldn’t do any real damage. Could she strangle someone with a pair of pants?

  The question made her smile despite the mind-numbing monotony.