Warrior Reborn (31 page)

Jason stood and walked away, unable to meet Tsu’s searching look.

She had tried. Maybe not the baby thing, or the mate thing, definitely not the soul thing. But he already knew she was one in a million for him. Her affection for kids—she made no effort to disguise how much she cared for them. He couldn’t lie to himself, as much as Tsu’s information felt like a huge weight.

The slides of blood she’d encouraged him to view, planting them in his path, posing guidance disguised as random concern. The mark he’d insisted was bruising; she’d teased and cajoled him, helping him accept it until just the thought of her touching the mark made him hard. The unbelievable ability to move through space to her. His healing of her, and her of him. She’d been darned timid, but she had tried. In response, he’d shut her down.

Would you?
Tsu’s words rang in his mind.

What would he do if the only woman he could love, if Briet, had rejected him for telling the truth?

She knew how he felt about having children. She knew some of his reasons—no, he suspected she knew the whole truth. Yet, their children would mean everything to her people. Evidently, to his people as well. Never had she pushed her needs.

“She feared she would not have the skills to help you embrace your changes,” said Tsu quietly behind him.

Jason turned in astonishment.
She wouldn’t
. He felt so incapable and adolescent among these Guardians and
she
had fears?

“At the risk of sounding repetitious, do not let history and destiny obscure what is important to you both.”

The man sounded so damn calm.

“I can’t disregard this information. It’s too important. Not doing anything is too—”

Tsu shrugged. “As with anything, simple steps. You came here to her. Why?”

Jason clenched his hand around the staff. The hard surface a reminder he wasn’t dreaming. Even through the whirl of confusion, his feelings in response to Tsu’s question were clear. “I love her. I would do anything to make sure she’s safe.”

“She loves you enough to try to spare you.”

Jason shook his head. “How does any of this work to build a strong foundation?”

“Trust, in the face of confusion and doubt. Love, as an anchor of strength, not restriction. From where I stand, I would say those make a very good start. But this is up to you to decide.”

“Am I interrupting?” Quan’s voice floated through the open room.

“We are done.” Tsu bowed his head to Jason, his hands poised together below his waist. “You did well. You are welcome to return any time if you wish to learn more or just wish to use the equipment.”

Jason bent his head in an involuntary sign of respect to his new teacher. Tsu left and Quan turned to follow her brother.

“Quan. Do you have just a moment?”

“Of course.”

They looked so much alike
, Jason thought. Brother and sister, both graceful and silent with a ripple of power bubbling just below the surface. “I wanted to ask you about Briet’s…coma?”

Jason waited for the look of placation, but Quan merely nodded and said, “You talk to her and you want to know if she hears you?”

He waited on her answer, surprised and a little unnerved she could anticipate his thoughts.

“She is suspended in a dream world. My ability is to enter and influence the state of dreams. In her case, I hold her within the dream. Because of our connection, I’m aware of the stimulus she receives. It might make you feel better to know that she can not only hear what goes on around her, but absorbs the positive vibrations from her visitors.”

The news did help, but seemed existential, even with verbal confirmation.

“Do you control all dreams?” asked Jason. At Quan’s frown and shake of her head, he offered the question bothering him. “It feels like she’s talking back to me. In dreams.”

Her eyes widened but then narrowed in speculation. “Perhaps your bond is close enough she is? In this state, thoughts, images, memories—all provide a high potential for communication. Difficult for someone untrained in the skill. But, Briet is tenacious enough to struggle through where another will not.”

“Stubborn, your mean.”

She smiled.

Jason pivoted the staff in his hand, spinning it slightly in the mat on the floor. “So this is not part of our abilities—a mate thing?”

She shook her head. “I suspect the connection in your dreams will end once she awakens. For now, she’s probably using any way she can to reach you.”

“Thank you,” he said.

She inclined her head to him and started away, only to turn back. “I just came from seeing her.”

He waited.

“The ring is very beautiful, Jason. Your promise, even more so.” The woman’s smile glowed with warmth and acceptance.

***

Quan’s comment followed Jason all the way back to Briet’s room. Turen was waiting, Marcus splayed on the bed asleep, limbs wide and comfortable, his hand fisted in a bit of Briet’s hair. The woman and child looked for all purposes to be taking a nap.

Turen disengaged the fist from Briet’s hair with an apologetic smile. “I think Marcus really likes the blond hair. The two of them have the same energy level, so she’s always a big favorite of his.”

Jason clenched his jaw, not sure how to respond, but Turen didn’t wait for one. Merely scooped up the sleeping toddler and headed out of the room.

He bent down to kiss Briet’s temple and crawled over her body to lie on the other side of the bed. Wiping his hands over his face, he mulled through the volumes of information his brain had accepted in the last several days. Two full days in the Sanctum and his body finally felt as fried as his brain.

Not for lack of food certainly. Mia and Grimm brought meals, fruits, and drinks. But he had to admit Grimm had been right. He’d needed the workout. Finally, he felt pleasantly exhausted and numb.

Well, almost numb. He turned and pressed his lips to the shallow dip above Briet’s collarbone. The touch, the flavor of her skin, was enough to fill his senses with his mate. What a term. Not his wife, though that sounded good in a covetous, possessive way. Not his lover, though he ached for her touch. Not his friend, though he also needed to hear her voice, her arguments, her logic, her wit.

Mate, like a missing half.
A shared soul.
Exactly how it felt.

“Given you’ve been working out with the master for years, you can probably whup my ass, hmm?” He rolled onto his side, elbow on the bed, his head braced in his hand as he brought her fingers to his lips. “The little girl you showed me in the dream wasn’t very good at following rules. You’ve never been good with rules, baby. Nothing gets your attention but your patients. Maybe it will give me a fighting chance to catch up with Tsu.”

He kissed her palm, letting out a grumble of frustration at the lack of response. “I’m going to work on the samples tomorrow. I’ll figure out some way to break down the toxin. Hopefully figure out what killed Annie. Then we can work together on this DNA problem with the kids.”

Grimm had assured him of her release from the coma on day four. Jason had pressed for details, concerned dehydration and lack of nutrition would hinder Briet more than keeping her high energy level sequestered in bed to heal. Now, even with an end in sight, the next day or two seemed endless.

He was no closer to answers than after her attack. Granted, he’d adopted a new superpower life style and had dangerous new acquaintances. None of that had impacted his goal to resolve Annie’s death.

“If your gifts are only offered once a generation how can Salvatore have enough of your skills to design such a toxin, much less tamper with DNA?” Jason ran his finger across her lower lip. “What does he gain by all this violence? Why you?”

Rolling onto his back, he closed his eyes, her hand cradled against his chest. He didn’t have another thought before the gray swirled and swept him under. He let go of restraint, allowing himself to be drawn into another dream from Briet’s memory, her eyes his window.

The vaulted stone room and tiered stone levels of amphitheater seating held at least fifty people milling about. At the perimeter were several robotic devices.

Men and machines, all armed for full battle.

The men, stern warriors, each imposing in their own right, stood tense for battle. The women, fierce beauties draped in white floor length robes, wore concern in their expressions, equal to their male counterparts. Everyone’s focus remained riveted to the front of the room. Weapons held at the ready, swords and staffs, each Guardian waited as if in expectation of a starting gun. The tension was palpable.

The robots didn’t appear sophisticated in design, boxy and square, multi-leveled and multi-jointed. However, the middle chassis on each machine was open, with gun sights extended, leveled on the crowd of men and women.

“And the Archives—”

Briet’s voice rang loud and clear as she moved to the forefront of the crowd. Ansgar moved at her side, his body wedged between her and the gun sights from the machines. She moved and the robots shifted and recalibrated. The sights moved forward and back on her as their target.

“The Archives make no reference to the designation of a mate as Guardian, Salvatore,” she said.

“You’ve defied our order.” The man glared. He stood rigid, long silver hair visible to his hips, the glint of his silver eyes, cold and emotionless.

The gray mist swirled and pulled, but Jason struggled to remain in the dream. He needed to see. He needed to know. He needed to see this man, Salvatore.

True to her natural sense of justice, and disregard for danger, Briet started in again.

“Your dictate to sequester the women was all to restrict our access to the Archives—the only mechanism we had to dispute the limitations you’ve set on our people.” Pain filled her angry words.

“Such an accusation is beneath you, Briet, and not without serious repercussions. Perhaps you have become infected since you’ve disobeyed those rules of the Sanctum meant for your protection. We can get you help and then work through the muddled logic you’ve created.”

“There is nothing wrong with her logic,” Ansgar snapped.

Turen moved, blocking Briet’s view of Salvatore.

“We carry the souls for the human race. What value could you conceive beyond the weight God has bestowed upon us?” Turen’s voice ended in a roar.

Salvatore laughed. “Can your limited imagination only conjure what you are told to do, Turen? Loyalty, mating,
love
,” Salvatore spat the words like a disease from his mouth. “All to create more progeny, to release precious souls that humanity will only squander. We breed and lose our destiny. We have the intelligence, the power, the vision to grow beyond those limitations. To evolve.”

Salvatore’s face displayed no expression, his words merely force and volume. The man was insane and dangerous.

Briet ignored the distraction Turen had provided. “I tested Maitea’s remains. Did you feel any remorse at the death of her child, for the pain and terror she endured?”

Despite her question, Briet’s attention flickered to the additional weapons silently sliding from openings in the robotic guards’ center consoles. The movement had caught the attention of Tsu and Ansgar as well.

“I’ve tested Isabella’s samples. I’ve seen the photos of her mate, his mark. She worked loyally with you for years. Did you feel
anything
for her as she died? After you killed her?”

The other occupants in the room shifted with threat. Hostile grumbles rose around her, aimed at Salvatore. If he had a following before this argument, it had disappeared. Passionate anger showed on the faces of all the men and women in the room.

The gray swirled again and cleared.

At first relieved not to have been kicked out of the dream, Jason sickened at the sight before him.

Mia resisted, held against Salvatore’s chest, his arm around her neck, his knife sheathed in her shoulder, a good six inches of the bloody tip visible. Her injured arm hung limp, her free hand desperately shielding the head of her young infant son in a sling at her chest. Determination radiated from her face as she locked gazes with Turen. Reciprocation and determination filled his expression as he raised his hand to her.

A series of electrical bursts lit from Salvatore’s fingers.

A circle of flame shot from Turen’s hand, covering Mia’s body and the baby.

No flinch or waver shook her body as she met the flame with eyes open and hand extended. The assault was enough of a surprise to momentarily loosen Salvatore’s hold on her.

Ansgar lunged and grabbed her. His water met her flame, steam following them to the floor.

Salvatore sent a bolt of current toward Mia’s back. Turen met the assault with a streak of flame, the connection of the two powers dispersing a wide shower of sparks. Not letting up, Turen released another pulse at Salvatore’s chest.

Jason sucked air into his lungs as mist overcame his will. He gave in to the grays and blacks pulling him from the images. He didn’t bother to open his eyes, but his fingers moved to check the pulse in Briet’s wrist, still clutched in his hands.

Her racing pulse slowed with his stroke.

He had been so close to the man. Recognition had been instantaneous the moment Salvatore had appeared the dream. You could change the basics: hairstyle, color, clothes. However, the posture, the bearing, the disdain—was all too familiar to camouflage.

Toré Valas. Salvatore.

The facial structure, the aquiline nose, the haughty confidence—definitely the silver hair and eyes would have stood out. No wonder he’d changed to the bland brown hair and tinted contacts.

Salvatore must have been quietly laughing at Jason throughout their whole meeting at the fund-raising event. The setup, sending his men after Briet, Jason’s cursory attempt to save her from one attack only to have her succumb to the final assault. All one grotesque game for the sick bastard.

Jason swallowed hard, the thin film of sweat on his body cooled him to an uncomfortable chill, yet the sensation brought life affirming reassurance.