Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three) (3 page)

Stacey swore under her breath and buried the hurtful memory before it could fully encroach. She flung the door open. “Get Mark,” she demanded to anyone within hearing range and slammed the door again.

Arms crossed, she paced her room impatiently waiting for her personal assistant. Her security personnel are all members of an enlightened species, but the rest of her staff consisted of mostly humans, including Mark. Eager to please and thick-skinned, he was good at keeping her itinerary on track.

She heard him laughing with the guards, though he had a straight face when he entered and quietly shut the door behind him before lifting a brow in question. “I laid out what I want to take. Add the shit I need and then get yourself packed—you’re coming with.” If she were going to have to deal with SOSC warriors tagging along, she wanted a buffer. The only visible indication of his ire was the furrowing of his brow before he nodded.

Leaving him to the task of packing, she went in search of the only person with a chance to pull her from her feeling of discomfort: Johnny. At least she would have a few hours to spend with him before leaving. She found him in the playroom, listening to Cassie read him a story.

Chapter Two

Soon.
The thought brought a smile to Mick. The Mesa, Arizona Human Integration Campus was not an exciting vacation destination, but the commandant, Shane Einar, had come to Mick a month ago and offered him a position teaching advanced reconnaissance to the students—the same position he currently had, yet he’d taken the job. It was where Mattie was stationed. Once the psychic energy weave finished another round of re-enforcements, the SOSC felt it would be strong enough to protect Mick on the mainland. The extreme security measures Commandant Einar had approved just for him to teach a class had filled Mick with gratitude. Did the commandant know of Mick and Mattie’s … friendship?

Thick tropical leaves brushed his arms and legs as he wandered down the familiar path to the pond that had become his refuge. It had been more than four years since Mick Tenor’s defection from his father, Osiris, in favor of the Symbiosis of Species Council. Four years on the SOSC’s pacific island known as Meshy Hell. Four years of having to fight compulsions his father had buried into his subconscious without Mick’s knowledge or approval.

The healers working with him to manage the paternal bond his father had to him were beginning to sound like a broken record. There was no telling how many compulsions Osiris had planted; there was also no way of knowing when one would overtake him, or what it would incite him to do. He understood that. It didn’t mean he liked it.

He carried an Epi shot loaded with a powerful animal tranquilizer just in case he felt a compulsion coming on. Thankfully he’d only had to use it once. Well, Mattie had used it on him—in self-defense—when he tried to kill her while under the dark influence. An amazing Tellus warrior, Mattie had never lost her cool. She shocked him with a pulse of electromagnetic energy generated from her body, found the Epi pen, and knocked him out quickly without any hesitation.

At that point in their budding friendship, he hadn’t shared much of his background with her, though pretty much everyone on campus was aware that Mick’s father’s organization was extensive, global, and one of the few that was powerful enough to pose a real threat to the SOSC and the entire world. Osiris exceeded the “rogue” qualifications many times over. The greatest advantage the SOSC had over Mick’s father was the symbiosis of the three enlightened species. Osiris believed the Volaticus Elven purebloods should rule and subjugate all other life forms, a belief Mick prayed would soon be his father’s downfall. Only with Osiris’s death would Mick be truly free.

Only after he tried to attack his best friend in the world did he tell Mattie everything. He even shared with her the horrors of what he personally had done at the command of his father. She had been understanding, even forgiven him the atrocities he’d done to Tellus captives, forgiveness he hadn’t expected from her or anyone, really. Eventually their relationship had developed sexually and further enhanced their friendship. Mattie was absolutely stunning. With her mocha skin, dark hair, and amber eyes, Mick had been physically attracted to her immediately.

A calm silence freed his mind when the pond came into view. He picked up a few stones and skipped them over the water. He missed Mattie so much his heart constricted in his chest. This was more than his spot … it was their spot. She’d made him aware before they’d taken their relationship to a sexual level that they could never grow beyond friends with benefits. Mattie was in line for her mother’s crown, though Mattie had no interest in being queen of her colony. Unfortunately, for Mattie, being heir to the crown and throne meant her marriage was contracted. Mattie liked the prince she was promised to; they were pretty good friends. The problem was, neither of them wanted to marry the other, nor could they figure out a way to get out of the arranged marriage. Instead they used loopholes to keep delaying the nuptials.

He and Mattie’s arrangement was more than Mick felt he deserved. They could tell each other anything. She was playful, smart, beautiful, and funny. Mick loved everything about her. Truth be known, he’d been in love with her since the day they met.

When they had graduated from the human integration course, Mattie had jumped at the chance to be an active SOSC warrior. For his protection, Mick was stuck on this island and under the energy weave that surrounded it. He’d taken a permanent job on campus while Mattie had been transferred to Mesa and partnered with a seasoned warrior named Conlon Einar. Her visits were less frequent lately, though they talked by phone several times a week. Mattie loved stalking the scum of the earth, and Mick both envied and cheered her every success.

Before Mattie, he’d only ever had sex once. It was one of the few secrets he hadn’t shared with his best friend. He didn’t even know the girl’s name, nor did he know about the compulsions. It had to have been a compulsion that had come over him during that assignment. Nothing else explained it. Granted, the female was in the throes of her first estrus and Becoming at the time, but still, she hadn't been the first female he'd been assigned to guard who had been in estrus, and he'd been able to resist them all. Why not that time? He'd broken many rules with her, talking to her for one.

She was scared. They were all scared. Hell, they needed to be scared … terrified. His orders had been routine for a female starting into the horrific process of Becoming into Volaticus traits. If she entered into estrus …

It horrified Mick to think of all the times females had been brutalized while he'd stood by doing nothing. He'd believed in his father's psychopathic agenda fully, wanted his father's approval so badly. Mick had been a demon. Looking back, he knew his experience with that particular female had been the turning point in his life. The time spent with her floated into his mind.

When his duty rotation had come, he had privately hoped no one would enter the horrific process. If he could, he had avoided that underground section completely. Then the call came, and his bad mood had fouled more. Becoming was a one to two week process, depending on the gender. Females took longer and often entered estrus. He had looked up at the moon in the clear sky, knowing it would be the last time he saw it for a while.

His boots had crossed the threshold of the area used for only two bloody purposes: Becoming and births. He had continued down the corridor haunted by the screams and cries that he’d heard echo through these now silent hallways. Every wall, ceiling, and floor was composed of smooth plates of stainless steel with a mesh of iron and platinum behind it. The floors dipped to accommodate drains every few yards. How much blood had been washed down each of them?

Outside one of the sealed transition rooms, three large males had stood laughing as they recapped the gruesome details of their latest capture. That was to be his assignment. The males stood at respectful attention when he approached. As one of Osiris’s sons, he held rank above everyone except Osiris’s chosen compound leaders, who are all pureblood Elven, and of course Osiris himself.

“Gender?” He didn’t bother with niceties.

“Female, sir.”

“From your gloating, I assume she’s a new captive.” He gave them a disapproving glare. Braggers drew attention. These soldiers should know better.

“Yes, sir. By all indication, she is unaware of her species, sir.” The speaker of the three had the intelligence to show shame at gloating, as did one of the two standing just behind him. The third curled his lip in an arrogant smirk. The bastards should be shaking in their boots.

Mick shadowed to invisibility, withdrew his ivory dagger and slipped behind the arrogant ass. Using the stealth of his assassin bloodline, he gripped the male’s hair and removed his head before the guy knew what happened or the others could react. Eyes wide, the remaining two stared at their lifeless buddy. Mick released his shadow.

“Speaking of missions with
anyone
is forbidden. I should kill you too.” Mick wiped his bloody blade on the already blood spattered shirt of the speaker.

To the male’s credit, he lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. “I willingly accept the consequences of my action, sir.” The other solider tried to match his college’s stance, but Mick could see the tremors of fear in the guy.

“Let this be a warning.” Mick pointed to the corpse at his feet with the tip of his dagger. The two males nodded with gratitude. “Dispose of it and clean this mess up.” He entered the sealed room with the female.

The sound of spraying water didn’t penetrate the dense soundproofing once the door closed behind him. He could see the soldiers’ grave expressions through the small four-by four-observation window. If Osiris or the compound leader had heard them bragging, all three would have been killed.

A soft groan from behind him had him glancing over his shoulder in time to see a mass of black waves lurch toward the stainless steel toilet as the girl vomited. Unbelievably, he found himself holding her hair back from her face. The second he realized what he was doing, he dropped the tresses and forced his feet to take him to the furthest corner from her.

Nude when she’d been tossed into the transition cell, the curves of her hips flared wide where she knelt at the basin. Her particular scent filled the room. He wasn’t a big fan of coconut, but his body’s response was overwhelming.
What the fuck?
On hands and knees, she crawled back to the two-inch, waterproof resting mat. He doubted she knew he was in the room. She sat, drew her knees to her chest, and let out a mournful wail that sent a shiver down his spine. “They’re dead … my god, they’re all dead,” he heard through broken sobs.

Everything in him wanted to hold her … comfort her somehow. Only his sense of duty held him in place. When the medical team entered, she snapped her head up. “What do you want?”

Per protocol, no one spoke to her; they rolled in an exam table and testing equipment and then stepped back out. Giving a nod to Mick, soldiers entered next. The female fought, screamed, and cried. Normally Mick would help in restraining his temporary charge, but the idea of hurting her … disturbed him. Once she was strapped down with bands across her chest and hips, her arm extended and secured, and her feet bound into stirrups, the soldiers cleared the room for the medic to come back.

A solider stood at the door holding a video camera, recording the blood draws, swabs, scans, female exam, an injection of Elven blood to speed up her Becoming … textbook procedures. Mick had seen it hundreds of times. In fact, he had gone through something similar during his own Becoming. They gave her a light tranquilizer, returned her limp body to the mat, and exited, leaving Mick and the female alone.

Now it would be up to him to observe her, alert the compound leader if and when she entered estrus, and stay in attendance while an Elven stud … or two … copulated with her. Since the males Osiris used for this particular chore had a tendency to be aggressive, the males were given fifteen minutes out of every hour of estrus to get the job done. If necessary, Mick had orders to tranq the male, but as long as the males didn’t actually kill the females, they could do whatever they wanted to them before and during the sex act.
Why did that thought suddenly bother him?
Hulven females were nothing more than a source of blood for the anemic, and brood chattel to increase Hulven and Elven population under Osiris’s control. A war was coming, and homegrown soldiers were a priority.

When she awoke the second time, she was calm. Her expression concealed any emotion behind a look of determination. “Who are you?” He should have remained silent at all times, yet he couldn’t look away from the rich, sapphire-blue color of her eyes. She shrugged. “Well my name is—”

“Don’t tell me. I don’t … need to know. Nor do I want to.” Pissed that she had uprooted his usually unaffected demeanor, he cursed under his breath. “Just keep your mouth
shut
.” Maybe the part of him that wanted to hear her voice more would get the hint too.

She swallowed loudly with a single nod. “Fine.” Her defiant gaze never left his as they sat in silence for hours.

“Are you a monster too?” she asked point blank when the strain of quiet became too much, for both of them.

Mick tried to hold his tongue, berating himself when he responded. “Of sorts.”

“What are you … exactly?” Explaining the enlightened species was not part of his assignment. She’d figure it out just like everyone else eventually did.

Don’t talk to her, don’t talk to her, don’t talk to her.
Despite every ounce of training, he found himself answering. “I am a Hulven, a human/Elven hybrid within the Volaticus species … just like you.” He watched her eyes widen slightly.

“That’s ridiculous. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Suddenly she cried out and gripped her stomach. Her Becoming was beginning.

Mick felt a wave of compassion. He straightened from the wall and removed his shirt. His dentes erupted into his mouth and he wiggled his ears, using the highly developed skull musculature of their kind, and extended his wings from his back. “This is what I am and what you are about to Become.”