Alpha Hunter (19 page)

“Are you changing the appearance of your eyes now or did you lose control over them the other night?”

“Ontarian eyes have a subtle rotation. The color combinations form gentle swirls rather than specific rings. I, however, frequently work off world so I’m often required to change my physical appearance. Shapeshifting is not my primary ability, so I’ve tried to find a shape that blends well with numerous worlds.”

“Release your shift. I want to see your natural shape.”

“I’m not sure I can. I’ve maintained this appearance for so long—”

“Keep making that face and it will freeze like that?” She laughed. “My mother used to threaten me with that.”

“Well, if she suspected you could shapeshift, it might not have been an idle threat.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth went dry. “Am I a shapeshifter? Drakkin never said anything about other abilities.”

“I was trying to lighten your mood. If Drakkin had sensed any other abilities, he would have told you.”

She blew out a ragged sigh. “Good. I don’t think I’d like… Wait a minute. How
’d we get so far off track? I want to see your real face.”

“It’s not that different from what you see now.”

“Then get it over with.” She accented the challenge by arching her brows.

He tilted his head and closed his eyes. For a moment he seemed to fade out of focus and then his true features formed. His cheekbones were sharper, his brow a bit wider and his eyes tilted up at the corners. He blinked then opened his eyes and she felt the magnetic pull of his Ontarian gaze. Slowly swirling pools of silver, blue and gray encompassed the entire surface of his eyes.

His dark hair flowed away from his face and disappeared behind his back. Curious, she leaned around him and gasped. “Is all this real?” She lifted one ankle-long strand and wrapped it around her hand, savoring the silky texture.

“As a shapeshifter matures sensitivity increases along with control. The last time I attempted to cut my hair it was excruciating.” As he spoke the strand she
’d captured spiraled up her arm.

Tingles broke out in the wake of his unusual caress and she shivered.
“Sensitivity and
control
.” The strand unwound then swished back behind him. She gasped again and looked into his eyes. He’d reverted to his humanoid appearance. She produced a playful pout. “I liked you better before. You looked like a dark elf.”

He laughed,
unaffected by the criticism. “Have you seen many dark elves?”

“I see why your natural appearance would be a
hindrance on Earth, but I think you’re…beautiful.”

“
Not as beautiful as you.”

The warm sincerity in his tone held her
captive for a moment. How could one man have so many facets? He was strong, sometimes ruthless, yet unbelievably gentle when she needed comfort or reassurance.

He rolled his shoulders then held out his hand. “Are you ready to work now or are you
still too distracted?”

“My distractibility seems to lead to the bedroom.” She smiled. “You shouldn’t encourage me.”

His shoulders squared and his features fell into an imperious mask. “One of us has to remember that this isn’t a holiday. Head hopping is our current lesson. I need you to—”

“Can we at least get out of this room? I’m going stir-crazy.”

The mask slipped and he laughed. “You’re a horrible student.” He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. “Good thing you’re a wonderful ma— Companion.”

She didn’t miss the slip. Did he really think she was his life mate? She wrapped her arms around his lean middle and snuggled into the warmth of his chest.

“Outside or would you like to see more of the lodge?”

“Lodge?”
She shook her head. “This is a royal residence. Doesn’t that make it a palace?”

“Drakkin’s children live in Hautell House, the primary royal residence. Drakkin moved here when he abdicated the throne. It was once a hunting lodge, but it’s been expanded greatly over the centuries.” He turned her toward the door and slipped his hand around hers.
“Outside or in?”

She intertwined their fingers then followed him from the room.
“Inside. It’s been threatening to rain all afternoon.”

“We’ll
use the Fireside Room.”

He led her down the main staircase and toward the back of the house. The library was down this hall, but most of the doors were closed so she wasn’t sure which one concealed the familiar room. “Are we the only guests?”

“As of this morning we are. The other visitors departed.”

“Is our departure scheduled?”

He glanced at her and smiled. “Depends how quickly you pick this up. Are you in a hurry to go home?”

She shrugged.
“My apartment is nothing special, but I miss Tori.”

“Have you contacted her again?”

“Briefly. Neither of us is confident in our shields, so we have to be careful what we say.”

He squeezed her hand. “I can shield the link for you unless you’re telling secrets about me of course.”

“We have no secrets from each other.” She smiled as her cheeks warmed. “You know more about me than she does.”

“
Which is as it should be.”

They
emerged into a sort of rustic atrium. The far wall was constructed of peeled logs and massive sheets of something transparent that were flexible enough to curve. The opposite wall contained the largest fireplace Tori had ever seen. Several clusters of furniture had been arranged in casual groupings. Blayne led her to the sofa and chairs set before the hearth.

She paused to soak in the picturesque view before turning her back to the windows. Jagged mountains rose into the turquoise sky, each unique yet similar. “It seems very secluded from this side. How do visitors who can’t teleport arrive?”

“There are two roads leading up from opposite valleys, but the lodge is much easier to reach from the air. If a large assembly needs Drakkin, he usually goes to them. Now, enough procrastination.” He patted the couch beside him so she sat. “You know how to insinuate your being into a person’s mind. Accessing a memory is basically the same. Obviously, your own memories will be the easiest for you to access, so we’ll start there. Pick an event that you wouldn’t mind revisiting.”

Without conscious thought the day they’d met popped into her mind.

He smiled, clearly pleased by her choice. “All right. Rerun the events from your perspective and then see if you can hop to mine.”

The skills she had already learned allowed her to accomplish the task within minutes. She ran the events forward and back as if she were watching a recording. Switching to Blayne’s mind took more concentration, but she managed on her first try.

Suddenly the time stream sucked her under like the raging current of a storm-swollen stream. She cried out and reached out blindly, but it was as if her body no longer existed. Darkness closed in around her, consuming everything in its path—sound, sensation, and rational thought.

I’m here, Angie. Don’t be afraid. You’re having a vision.

The assurance did little to alleviate her fear.  She wasn’t having a vision; the vision was having her! She flowed along in the inky current, powerless to slow the pull or set her course. She was helpless, useless, yet again.

Light flickered in the distance and hope flared within her heart. Anything was better than this endless blackness.

Images separated from the shadows, sounds echoed through the stillness, muted laughter and the ever-present thumping of a bass drum. She smelled cigarette smoke and something cloying and sweet. Then a scene unfurled in the distance and she went wild. Not this! She did not want to relive that night. Anything but this.

There
’s a reason for every vision. These events cannot hurt you now.

Then leave! I don’t want you to see
… A harsh sob shut down her voice as terror paralyzed her brain.

I will never leave you, but I’ll pull you out long before they hurt you again.

She wasn’t sure she believed him. No one had been there to save her back then. Why should it be any different now? But his assurance calmed her enough so she could think. If every vision had a purpose, she needed to figure out what this was trying to show her so she could get the hell out of here.

She floated into the party, but she was an onlooker rather than a participant. She easily spotted her younger self and shame threatened to choke her. With all that makeup and a low-cut top
, she looked years older than fifteen. She laughed and provoked the three young men gathered around her chair. She didn’t want to see their faces, didn’t want to think about where this scene led.

If you let me see them, I can find out who they are.

Terrified he’d try and fail, yet just as tortured by the possibility that he’d succeed, she hesitated. She hadn’t known them, hadn’t known where to start even if she’d wanted to hunt them down. She’d been a helpless fifteen-year-old, still reeling from her mother’s death. Blayne was a Master Level mage with serious connections.
So you identify them, then what? Have them arrested and take them to court? No way I’m putting myself through that.

You’re Ontarian and Ontarian laws are different than
the laws on Earth. We have no tolerance for abusers of women.

Unadulterated hate blasted through her system
, chilling her from the inside out. She turned around, but Blayne hadn’t materialized. His fury left her even more uncertain of what she wanted to do.
If this is going to change you, I’d rather leave it in the past.

He calmed. She could feel warmth gradually erode his rage.
I will not allow this to change me, but it cannot go unavenged. What they did was inexcusable.

A thought occurred to her and her hands closed into fists.
Did you trigger this vision? Did you bring me here so I could—

No.
Conviction and honesty rang through the word.
I would never do that to you.

She took a deep breath and crossed the room, skirting her attackers until she stood next to her younger self. She blocked out their conversation, refusing to think about what would soon happen. Instead she let Blayne’s determination give her strength and she calmly looked at each man’s face. She soaked in every detail
without allowing her emotions to respond. When she was sure she had an accurate image of each villain’s face, she sensed the cord binding her to the past and severed it once and for all.

“I don’t believe this!”
Sevrin spun around and punched the dingy wall of the motel room. The impulse split the skin across her knuckles and dented the drywall, but she hadn’t even managed to create a hole. Oh to have the strength and speed of one of those cursed men!

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Porffer muttered. “I really thought we were on to something this time.”

“She was fine yesterday. What the hell happened?” At least this one hadn’t mutated into a twisted carcass barely identifiable as human. The replicated formula seemed to have worked. The test subject went through a sort of metamorphosis and immerged with some very un-humanlike abilities. Then for no apparent reason, she collapsed four hours ago and Porffer hadn’t been able to resuscitate her.

“Respiratory failure.
That’s all I know without an autopsy.”

Sevrin pulled up the blinds and looked out across the dilapidated parking lot. “
So do we try again or go back to working with one of the men?”

Porffer looked incredibly uncomfortable as she debated the alternatives. “
Live specimens have always been our best option, but the men are so volatile. Just having them around is a continual distraction.”

Sevrin laughed. “Would they be less distracting if one were
seeing to your needs? When’s the last time you had a lover?”

Porffer’s chin came up and her gaze narrowed. “I am capable of taking care of all of my physical needs. I find those men uncouth and obnoxious.”

“Sure you do.” She ambled closer to Porffer, amused by the chink in her armor. “Which one is the most uncouth and obnoxious, in your opinion?”

“Nazerel, without doubt.”

No one would argue with her there. Unfortunately, getting Nazerel to cooperate regarding anything was next to impossible. “Anyone else you find particularly loathsome?”

For a long time Porffer fiddled with the hem of her lab coat. Sevrin didn’t think she was going to answer and then she said, “I don’t know his name.”

“Is he part of the team guarding you or one of the Shadow Assassins?”

Porffer glanced at her, clearly understanding their game. “
He accompanies Zach each time Zach visits you. He hasn’t worn a shirt all week because he had one of those obscene marks applied beneath his skin. As if his overdeveloped physique wasn’t distasteful enough.”

Sevrin chuckled. She wasn’t sure which one of the Shadow Assassins discovered tattoos, but they were all obsessed with them now. Every time she turned around someone was harassing her for cash so they could have ink drilled into their
flesh. It was barbaric and incomprehensible to her, but it was keeping them occupied. And each man was sent to the tattoo artist with an audio/visual transceiver to make sure he didn’t run his mouth about anything humans weren’t allowed to know.