Tracker Page 6
“Is that how you see soul bonding? A ‘saddle’? Something unwanted and cumbersome?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced into his eyes then quickly away. “The closest thing to soul bonding on Earth is marriage and I’ve never known anyone who could make that work. My parents hung on for thirty-one years and then had one of the nastiest divorces I’ve ever witnessed. It was ridiculous how horribly they turned on each other.” Her voice softened, became wistful as she added, “It was also really sad.”
Unable to fight his need to touch her, he covered her shoulders with his hands and moved closer. “Soul bonding is very different than any human relationship. Humans can lie and deceive, harbor resentments and plaster on fake smiles. Soul-bonded couples share everything, thoughts, emotions, aspirations and fears. There is no hiding, no falseness once the link is formed. It’s honest, visceral, and real.”
She twisted away from him and started walking again. “I don’t think I want anyone to know me that well.”
He tensed, easily keeping pace with her agitated steps. She’d volunteered for the transformation program back on Earth. That was how Arton and his team of hunters had known who to kidnap. Each female they’d taken—with a couple of exceptions—had already been tested and approved as a genetically compatible mate. How was this any different? “Did you volunteer for the transformation program?” Wanting an honest answer, he fought to keep the challenge out of his tone.
“Yes, but...” She sighed, still avoiding his gaze. “Everything that’s happened since we left Earth has made me reevaluate my decision. Lily and Thea are so different now. It’s hard to believe they’re the same women I met six weeks ago. Thea’s the one who convinced me that the only rational response to being kidnapped was to resist you guys at every turn. Now she’s bonded to Rex and seems genuinely happy. I never thought I’d use that adjective to describe Thea Cline.”
Confusion drew his brows together. “You don’t want your friends to be happy?”
She shot him an impatient look. “Of course I do. But her transformation has been so sudden and so complete that it doesn’t seem natural.” She sighed and added, “It seems coerced, almost drug induced.”
The Wheel came into view, so Xorran slowed his pace, not yet ready for the conversation to end. “How do humans behave when they’ve first located a potential partner? Are they not emotional and overly affectionate?”
“Yes, but not to the extent I’ve witnessed in Lily and Thea. They’re like...Stepford wives.”
“I don’t understand the reference.”
“It means spirited females who were secretly replaced by lifelike robots that behave exactly the way their husbands wanted their wives to behave. It comes from a classic sci-fi book and movie.” Her steps paused and she finally met his gaze again. “I’ve seen humans that were head-over-heels in love. They can’t keep their hands off each other and they’re convinced they’ll be together until their dying day. Then the newness wears off and time changes their bodies. Pretty soon they’re bored and restless, and one or the other cheats. Or worse, money pressures and life just wears them down until there’s simply nothing left. Whatever the cause, it never lasts. That’s what scares me about Thea and Lily. A soul bond is permanent. What happens when the pull wears off and they realize there is no escaping what they’ve done?”
“Lily and Thea are not married to their males. They are soul bonded.” He shook his head, frustrated by her vehemence. “You would have to experience the difference to understand.”
She laughed and shook her head. “And experiencing ‘the difference’ requires a permanent commitment. Sorry, Xorran, think I’ll pass.”
There were ways for her to preview what it was like to be soul bonded, but he didn’t argue. She was in no state of mind for romance. One of her friends was still in danger and they were about to face one of the beings who had terrorized her. Xorran’s eyes narrowed. Was that why she was so defensive? Was she still afraid? It was so damn tempting to scan her mind and find out exactly what she was feeling. He shook away the temptation. One of the first lessons his mentor taught him was that power came hand in hand with responsibility. Xorran’s abilities were meant to be passive. If he forced his power to penetrate another’s mind, it corrupted his energy. Not to mention that it violated the other person’s trust.
They reached the Wheel and walked up the ramp leading to the common area on the lowest deck of the Viper. With multiple seating arrangements and nutria-gen kiosks, the area was part lounge, part cafeteria, and a favorite gathering place for the human females. After passing through security scanners that detected various forms of weapons as well as identifying authorized passengers, they were met by one of the guards who handed Xorran a clean uniform top. The guard smirked, but departed without comment.
“Main medical is on deck three, aft, so let’s go there first,” Xorran suggested. “That way we won’t forget later.”
She looked confused for a moment, then understanding sharpened her gaze. “The blood sample. I’d almost forgotten.”
“It will just take a moment,” he assured as he quickly pulled on the shirt.
She watched him silently, dark gaze warm and filled with mischief. “What a shame,” she whispered with a wicked smile. “I can finally see you clearly and they make you cover up.”
Her playfulness sent a fresh rush of desire curling through his body. “We can stop by my cabin on the way back and I’ll give you a private viewing.”
She laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Main medical was bustling, as usual. Xorran found Doctor Foran and told him that the overlord wanted Sara’s blood screened for nanites and any abnormality that might have resulted from their use. Foran agreed to do the tests, but directed one of his technicians to collect the sample. As Xorran predicted, the detour only took a matter of minutes.
The detention level was all the way in the forward section of deck two, and they’d entered through aft, so they still had a bit of a walk ahead of them.
Rodyte ships were built for functionality, not comfort. The mottled-gray corridors were long and unadorned, the decks textured, providing traction. They’d tried to make changes since arriving on the planet, hoping to provide their females with a more hospitable environment. The “commons” on deck one were the best example. The leisure area had once been a series of cargo holds.
“You don’t have to question the elf directly,” he said, hoping to lighten her mood. “You can simply translate for the interrogator.”
“I’m not afraid of the elf,” she insisted, tossing back her long dark hair. Her face had been scrubbed clean and color returned to her cheeks. She’d put on a clean uniform and combed out her hair before they left the barracks. He’d thought she was attractive before. Now he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
“I didn’t think you were,” he told her firmly. “But it might be easier to analyze the elf’s reactions if you’re not in the same room with him.”
She shook her head and squared her shoulders. “I need to look him in the eye and show him that we won’t be victims to their cowardly tactics. The Sarronti can’t live above ground anymore, so there is no reason we can’t share this planet.”
“That’s a valid point, but your ability to speak Sarronti is only an advantage as long as the Sarronti are unaware of it. If you confront this elf directly, you reveal your ability.”
Pausing as if to absorb the implications, she slowly nodded. “And he’ll tell the others as soon as he’s released.”
“Undoubtedly,” Xorran agreed.
“I hadn’t thought about that.” A frustrated frown crept across her delicate features.
They lapsed into contemplative silence as they reached the detention area. As with most Rodyte ships, the area was one open space that could be divided into smaller spaces depending on how many people needed to be secured or interrogated. Opaque energy fields surrounded each enclosure, preventing any sort of communication with th
e outside world, and limiting interaction between the detainees. At present there were three prisoners, two from the Viper’s crew, and the elf.
“How will the elf understand the questions?” She paused and looked at him, a hint of challenge sharpening her expression. “I don’t actually speak Sarronti. I can’t tell the interpreter which words to use.”
“How did you communicate with Arrista?”
“Her translator nanites linked with mine, but the nanites did the actual translation. I still spoke English and she spoke Sarronti. The technology just allowed us to know what the other was saying.”
“So without this link, we’re out of luck.” He sighed. He’d hoped to spare her the stress of facing one of her attackers, but she honestly seemed to welcome the opportunity. “Do you know how to form the link?”
She shook her head, looking a little less enthusiastic. “I’ll have to find a way to let the elf know I can understand him. Hopefully, he’ll do the rest.” Suddenly dread widened her eyes and drained the color from her face. “What about Arrista? If I reveal that I can communicate, Isolaund will know what Arrista did.”
“Damn it.” Xorran scrambled for a way to question the elf without endangering a potential ally, but nothing came to him. They couldn’t communicate with the elf unless he linked with Sara, and finding out that Sara had Sarronti translator nanites implicated Arrista. It was all a giant circle of useless frustration.
“Give me a minute to update Kage. I’ll see if he has any suggestions.”
She nodded, looking as frustrated as Xorran felt.
He turned his head, unable to think of anything other than Sara while he looked at her. He quickly told the overlord what they’d realized and Kage suggested involving Torrin Havier.
“What did he say?” Sara asked as Xorran faced her again.
“Torrin Havier is on his way. I’m not sure why the overlord thinks an assassin can help with this situation, but he was adamant.”
“An assassin?” She sounded uncertain and glanced down the corridor.
“Torrin is well known as a contract killer. He’s wanted in more places than the overlord.” Distracted by the possibilities, Xorran casually revealed the information.
“You don’t sound like you know him very well. Can we trust him?”
Quickly marshaling his expression, Xorran chose his words with more care. He didn’t want his confusion to make her even more uncomfortable. “I’ve met him, but I don’t know any of the Outcasts well. I haven’t been with them that long. The overlord wouldn’t have suggested we network with Torrin if he wasn’t trustworthy. The overlord knows how important this is.”
She nodded, but pressed back against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest.
It felt awkward to loiter here in the hallway, but once they entered the detention area the elf would be able to see them. Xorran didn’t want to appear as if they didn’t know what they were doing, which at the moment was more or less true.
Torrin strode down the corridor a few minutes later. Even dressed in the khaki uniform worn by all the Outcasts, the assassin looked deadly. He’d combed his dark hair back from his face and bound it at the nape of his neck. The severe style accented his angular features and unusual gray/green eyes. His penetrating stare quickly swept over Xorran, then switched to Sara and lingered, though his expression—or utter lack thereof—didn’t change.
“What’s up?” Torrin’s casual tone contradicted his lethal first impression.
“How much did the overlord explain?” Xorran asked.
The assassin shrugged. “Not much. We need to know whatever the elf is willing to tell us, but no one can communicate with him.”
“Sara was given translation nanites while she was their captive. She can speak their language, but doing so openly endangers the elf who helped her escape.” Xorran struggled to understand the overlord’s strategy. What did he think Torrin was going to be able to do? They needed an interpreter, not an assassin. “I’m not sure why the overlord thought you could help us.”
A sly smile bowed his lips as he ambled closer. “If you’ll allow me to touch your female, I’ll see if there is anything I can do.”
Xorran tensed, instinctively moving in front of Sara. “Why do you need to touch her?” And how the hells had Torrin realized Sara was a genetic match with Xorran? He hadn’t even kissed her yet. If her scent had changed, he would have noticed.
“Where do you need to touch me?” Sara moved to his side, her expression nearly as suspicious as his.
“Any skin-to-skin contact should allow me to scan for the nanites. I’ll attempt to link with them, which may or may not allow me to access their translation programming.”
The explanation did little to soothe Xorran’s suspicions. “Are you battle born? I’ve never heard of this ability.”
Torrin scoffed. “Says the Bilarrian tracker. Are you battle born?”
It was a valid point. Xorran’s skills were just as atypical of battle born soldiers as the one Torrin described. Apparently they both had unusual backgrounds. “You can touch her hand or her arm. Nothing above the elbow.”
“Seriously.” Sara glanced at him impatiently. “If he touches me inappropriately, I’ll slap him. You don’t need to treat him like a criminal.”
“I am a criminal,” Torrin said without shame. “We all are.”
Sara tensed at Torrin’s casual statement. He hadn’t sounded proud about it. He was just stating facts. Even if the Outcasts hadn’t committed crimes before coming to Earth, each had been party to a mass kidnapping. She would be wise not to trust any of them. But why draw her attention to the fact?
“Is it your intention to harm me?” She countered his directness with the same, yet his reminder still left her feeling uncomfortable, vulnerable.
“Of course not. We want the same thing.” He held out his hands, palms up. “If I can help you, I will. I simply won’t know if I have anything to offer until I touch you.”
She glanced at Xorran, but his hostile gaze was fixed on the other male. Typical. Rodytes were ridiculously territorial. “Is this where you two scratch the ground and bash your heads together?” Torrin smiled and the tension banding her chest released.
He lowered his arms and the smile faded. “I’m no competition to your tracker. Unfortunately, I’m not compatible with any of the human females.”
Compassion smoothed Xorran’s expression, but his gaze remained wary. “Did they tell you that before or after you agreed to join the Outcasts?”
“After, but I don’t blame Kage. The overlord was more surprised than I was. Compatibility has been an issue my entire life. My physiology is unusual.” There was a wealth of information in the statement, though Sara didn’t understand the specifics. Pain shadowed Torrin’s eyes until he blinked away the past and held out his hands again. “Ready?”
She took a step toward him and placed her hands on his. He slid his hands up and closed his fingers around her wrists. His grip was firm without being hurtful and a strange radiance appeared deep in his eyes. Trepidation spread through her and she tried to pull away. He held her securely as his being gradually sank into her mind. She struggled against the tingling rush at first, afraid of the strange sensations. But the initial uncertainty gradually gave way to fascination.
He moved agilely through her mind, searching, analyzing. She could sense the skill and intensity with which he worked. As he focused on one area, the tingling intensified. She gasped and instinctively tried to pull away again.
“Steady,” he whispered and something swirled through his gaze like smoke. Distracted by the odd motion in his eyes, she stopped resisting long enough for him to locate the cluster of nanites. “There they are,” he muttered. “Almost done.”
The rings in his eyes blurred, stretching and swirling as the entire mass began to rotate. Shocked and afraid, she tugged against his hold on her wrists. “What are you? Rodytes don’t... Where are you really from?”
“He’s Ontarian, or lea
st part Ontarian,” Xorran explained. “Why pretend to be battle born?”
Torrin shook his head and released her arms as he came out of the trance. “My mother was a prisoner of war, just like yours. She just happened to be a hybrid. My maternal grandfather was Ontarian. Does that make my abilities any less advantageous?”
“I apologize,” Xorran said. “Your background is none of our business.”
“I’m not ashamed of it. It’s just complicated enough to take over conversations, so I tend to avoid it.”
Sara hesitantly touched his upper arm, drawing his attention. “Were you able to determine if you can help us or not?”
“I believe so. What do you think?” He spoke in slightly accented Sarronti.
“Wonderful.” She smiled with relief. “Now you don’t need me.”
“Sorry, I’m not sure my range will hold if you leave the area.” He sounded genuinely apologetic. “I’m accessing your nanites to perform this little parlor trick. If I lose the link, the ability will disappear.”
“But I can’t speak Sarronti,” she pointed out.
A knowing smile curved Torrin’s lips. “Actually, you could with a little practice. It’s just a matter of channeling your thoughts back through the translator to retrieve the appropriate words. I can teach you how once your friend is rescued.”
Sara nodded. Being able to speak Sarronti would enable her to communicate with the elves without allowing them into her mind. She glanced at the assassin, unsure if he was a safer alternative. “Do I need to be in the room with you? If the elf sees me, it defeats the purpose for involving you.”
Torrin shook his head. “The link should hold if you watch from the control room. It shouldn’t take long to find out what our reluctant guest knows.”