Sevrin turned from her workstation as someone knocked on the door to her office. The door was open, but her houseguest knew better than to enter her presence without permission. “Come in.”
Nazerel stepped into the sunny space. His military bearing clashed with the overtly feminine décor. Even dressed in jeans and a T-shirt he looked fierce and unapproachable. He was the smartest of the alpha hunters and the hardest to control. She wasn’t sure if he went out of his way to provoke her or if he was just naturally obstinate, but their conversations had a way of deteriorating into arguments.
“You wanted to see me.” He stood near the open doorway with his hands behind his back. Was he afraid of breaking something or was he worried that the cheerful surroundings might rub off on him?
“I did. Or actually I still do.” He didn’t react to her smile, so she pushed away from her desk and stood. The holodisplay blinked off, leaving the appearance of a human computer on a nondescript desk. The chances of discovery were minimal, but she never took unnecessary chances.
The alpha hunters had arrived ten days ago with their chosen teams. They’d been excited and rambunctious for the first few days, then they began to realize just how dependent they were on her. Which, of course, was the way she’d planned it. She’d promised them new identities, new lives. She intended to keep the promise, but it took time, and obscene amounts of cash, to procure believable documentation. Eventually the three groups of men would move into separate houses in different cities, but first they had to acclimate themselves to Earth.
She’d leased a rundown motel in a seedy section of Las Vegas and housed the twelve hunters in the sparsely furnished rooms. She’d offered the alpha hunters accommodations in the luxury house where she’d set up her office, but they had opted to remain with their men. All fifteen men had finally cycled through orientation, which included a language infusion and crash course in American social practices. They used the abandoned warehouse for daily training sessions to keep the hunters physically fit and combat the inevitable restlessness. They wanted to start their new lives, to finally experience real freedom. And more than anything else, they wanted to hunt.
“Did the men appreciate the visitors I arranged last night?” She leaned her hips against the front edge of her desk and watched him closely. If he was as sex starved as the rest, why did he seem oblivious to her as a woman? She wore snug jeans and a clingy tank top that clearly outlined her generous breasts, yet he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead.
As if he’d heard her complaint, his blue-ringed gaze suddenly bore into hers, but his stern expression didn’t change. “The pleasure givers were a pleasant diversion. When will we be allowed to hunt?”
She chuckled. He’d added the question so quickly it sounded like one continuous sentence. Ignoring his impatience, she asked, “And the driving lessons? How many of the men have completed that training?”
“We can teleport. Why do we need to learn how to operate primitive machines?”
“Because every time you teleport you risk discovery and someone could sense the energy spike. If you hope to survive here, you must learn how to blend in.”
He unclasped his hands and moved farther into the room. Despite his size, he moved with remarkable agility and stealth. It was easy to see how these men sneaked up on their prey. “Most of the hunters prefer the motorcycle to the car. I agree with their choice. I would like a motorcycle for my exclusive use.”
“Fine. I’ll buy you a motorcycle.” And she could think of all sorts of ways he could thank her.
“And one for each of my men.” His gaze finally dipped to her cleavage and his hands folded into fists.
So, he wasn’t as oblivious as he pretended. Good. One of the alpha hunters would eventually become her mate and right now she was leaning toward Nazerel. “The hunters descended from the South or all of the hunters?”
“I am only concerned with my men. Darian and Zacharous are responsible for the rest.”
“Dare and Zach. You guys need to get used to your human personas.” Pushing off the desk, she strolled toward him, desperately wanting to run her hand up his arm and over his sculpted chest. Nothing about his clothing was provocative, but the shape of the body beneath begged to be explored. “You are Naz Southmor. Your friends are Dare Eastman and Zach Westbrook. From now on call them by their human names.”
His posture tensed again and his gaze narrowed. “My name is Nazerel. It will not be shortened.”
“Fine.” She waved away the objection and took a breath. Now for the real reason she’d summoned him. “Did you make contact with one of the females?”
One corner of his lips quirked in an unrepentant smirk, but he said nothing.
“You have no idea what it took to compile those dossiers. If you—”
He lunged so fast a startled cry replaced the rest of her sentence. His hands grasped her upper arms and he pressed her back against her desk. “I am the highest-ranking alpha hunter. It is my right to choose my mate first.”
“That’s not the point.” She refused to let him frighten her. If she couldn’t control Nazerel, she’d lose control of the entire project. “You will have first choice, when it’s time to choose.” She tried to twist out of his grasp, but his grip remained constant.
“Release her.” The unmistakable snap of a gun being cocked punctuated the deep command.
She glanced beyond Nazerel and smiled at her head of security. “It’s fine, Marat. Nazerel was just being passionate.”
Nazerel arched his brows at her choice of adjectives. “You’ve never seen me passionate. Would you like a demonstration?”
“That will be all, Marat.” She waited until the other man left before she said, “This project has been years in the planning. I know you’re all anxious to begin, but there are details yet to be finalized. Which female did you contact and how far did it go?”
His hands gradually released and he lowered his arms, but he remained close, towering over her. “Are you disappointed that I’m investigating my options? I’ve seen the way you look at me. Everyone has. Do you have personal plans for my future or will I be free to choose like everyone else?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” She wasn’t sure why she was being so honest, evasion was the wiser course.
“But one of us will be your mate and the choice is yours?” His expression was openly challenging.
“Is it so high a price to pay?” She licked her lips, wishing he’d do more than stare. “My mate will gain access to all the power of Rodymia.”
“Why is that?” He leaned down, bringing his lips within a hair’s breadth of hers. His breath was warm and inviting. She could almost taste his urgent kiss. “Who are you really? You’re no mere scientist. This operation has to be costing you a fortune.”
“I have connections.” She was so breathless she could barely speak and her heart pounded with excitement. Would he force her back over her desk or take her roughly from behind? She didn’t care how he did it as long as he filled her aching emptiness. “My resources are nearly limitless.”
His hand suddenly tangled in her hair and he pulled her head farther back. “Too bad I’m not for sale.” He laughed then and moved back, leaving her humiliated and angry.
“It doesn’t have to be you,” she snapped. “I told you I haven’t decided. Now stop avoiding the issue. Which female did you contact and how far did it go?”
“I’d only intended to watch her, but an opportunity arose for a quick conversation and I took advantage of it. The exchange was fast and superficial. She knows nothing about me, not even my real name.”
Still reeling from his rejection, she scrambled to regain her composure. “You’re talking about Angie Logan. Correct?” It was time he learned exactly how much she knew and the true scope of her power. He might not be for sale, but he was helpless without her.
“Yes, but why does it matter? No harm was done.”
“I’m not so sure. Allenton and Lor dar Joon were asking questions about darling Angie. That sounds like harm to me.”
His expression froze then shock and hostility burned through his momentary pause. “Allenton is on Earth? When did that happen?”
“Six days ago. I’ve been littering their path with false leads, but you might have created a real problem with your unapproved antics.”
“I’m not afraid of Allenton,” he growled, literally growled.
The reaction was so pointless it made her laugh. “You should be far more concerned about Lor dar Joon. He’s a Master Level mage trained by the most powerful Mystic on Ontariese.”
Nazerel shook his head, clearly surprised by the revelation. “How did they learn where we’d gone? We were so careful to cover our tracks.”
“Don’t panic. I knew they’d send someone after you. I’d hoped they would all be Shadow Assassins, but we can still work with this.”
He didn’t seem nearly as convinced or as arrogant. “Allenton is as sanctimonious as Varrik. They both make me sick.”
“As long as we stay a step ahead of them, we’ll be fine. But we must know what they know.”
“If they’re trying to use Angie to find me, I can probably use her to find them. Besides, I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.”
“You better hope to the five hells they haven’t found her or it will be the end of you.” Allowing his rejection to fuel her anger, she glared into his eyes. “The Mystics cannot be allowed to find any of my facilities.”
“Angie doesn’t know the location of any of your facilities, so how is she a danger to us?”
“She came in contact with you, so they could scan her memory and isolate your energy pattern. Many Mystics can track energy patterns. That’s likely why Lor is here.”
“If that’s true. Finding Angie won’t stop them. Allenton has known me for years.”
“When was the last time you connected on an emotional level with Allenton?”
“I’m not into men.” He looked genuinely horrified by the suggestion.
She laughed. “Why do you immediately make my question sexual? Anger is an emotion. So is joy. Have you and Allenton ever hunted together or fought side by side?”
Nazerel shook his head. “We each led our own team with our own missions.”
“Then we’re back to Angie. Find her and bring her here. I guess whether I like it or not, the hunt begins tonight.”
Lor slipped into Tori’s mind with the effortless grace of a dancer. Allenton had been brute strength and clumsy power, shoving the images at her with rough determination. She didn’t think Allenton had been intentionally hurtful. He just lacked Lor’s control.
“What did you want to see more clearly?” Lor’s fingers slipped up into her hair then returned to the nape of her neck, his touch so light tingles slid down her spine.
She was still trying to process the fact that they were transmitting information directly into her mind. Were they…psychic? The word had always brought to mind tarot card readers and cheesy helplines. But this was undeniably real. They were communicating telepathically. Or was this science rather than mysticism? Maybe they were part of some experimental project that was testing neurotransmitters and bio-integrated technologies.
Focusing on the lingering scene, she forced her rambling speculation to the back of her mind. “I need to see their faces.” Her voice sounded breathy and hoarse. She was tempted to open her eyes and see if he was affected by her nearness, but dismissed the impulse with a self-recriminating sigh. He was an investigator. As soon as he learned what he needed to know he’d be on his way.
She pressed her lips together and concentrated on the image of the female. Though the scene was animated, she couldn’t hear what they were saying. The woman fiddled with her hair and titled her face as if she wanted to be kissed. All very Angie-like motions. The man moved to her side as someone shouldered their way past them and the woman shifted as well. Tori couldn’t see her face now, but she could see the upper portion of her shoulder blade. An angel’s face and upswept wings peeked out from beneath the woman’s blouse.
“It’s Angie,” she whispered, dread accompanying the simple statement.
“Are you sure,” Lor persisted.
“I recognize the tattoo. She got it on her eighteenth birthday. It’s Angie.”
Allenton pulled out with the same care he’d entered and Tori gasped. The room around her spun and she swayed. Lor wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her. “Take a deep breath. The dizziness will pass.”
“He wouldn’t have risked contact unless he was seriously interested in her. He’ll come for her in the next day or two.” Allenton began to pace the small living room. His anxious energy was palpable.
“Luckily, she’s not here so he’ll have no choice but to move on.” Lor’s hand flexed against her side.
The spinning gradually stopped, but Tori remained tucked against Lor’s side. “Can you set a trap for him? Use this opportunity to take him out of commission?”
Both men looked at her. Lor’s disapproval was obvious, but Allenton seemed interested. “He’ll only return if he thinks she’s here. We need someone to bait the trap, someone who looks enough—”
“No,” Lor snapped. “You are not putting Tori in danger.”
“He’s right. Angie and I get confused for each other all the time. My hair is darker, but if he saw me through the window or something, he’d probably think I was her.”
“It’s too dangerous. I will not allow you to—”
“It’s not your choice to make.” She squared her shoulders, refusing to be browbeaten by a stranger. “If this man is a danger to Angie, then I’ll help catch him in any way I can.”
“She must appear to be alone.” Allenton shot Lor a look full of meaning she didn’t quite understand.
“I hate everything about this plan.”
Allenton acknowledged the complaint with a solemn nod. “It might be our only opportunity.”
It took much longer for Lor to accept the inevitable. He blew out a frustrated sigh and reached into his ear. “Take my audiocom. We will be nearby, but we’ll need to stay out of sight.”
“I understand.” She took the tiny device from him and rubbed the tip with her finger. Sharing headphones always made her squeamish. A nice long French kiss would be far more intimate, yet the thought didn’t tighten her stomach. She smiled at the inconsistency of her hang-ups and slipped the audiocom into her ear. “Can you hear me?”
“Perfectly,” Lor offered her a reassuring smile. “Now try it without speaking the words out loud.”
She hesitated. Did he mean this thing would transmit her thoughts?
That’s exactly what I mean. His deep voice sounded within her mind, the words so clear she gasped.
She caught Allenton rolling his eyes in her peripheral vision. What had caused his reaction? Or was he just a snide asshole?
Lor chuckled, obviously hearing her rambling thoughts.
“It’s a prop,” Allenton told her. Lor anchored a comlink in your mind before he withdrew.
“Do you not comprehend the concept of discretion?” Lor turned on the other man and Tori took an automatic step back. “Our mission guidelines are clear. No unnecessary exposure.”
“I don’t give a damn. We don’t have time to break it to her gently or concoct a plausible excuse. You might think I’m being cruel, but she needs to understand what sort of person is coming for her.”
Lor paused and rubbed his chin. Did that help him think? She’d seen him do it before. It was kind of cute on someone so utterly masculine.
Not waiting for Lor’s permission, Allenton turned back to her. “We have technology that allows us to disappear. We will walk out the front door and pretend to leave, but we’ll return. You just won’t be able to see us.”
Something in the way he’d said “technology” made her suspect it was another prop. A shiver dropped down her spine as possibilities exploded in her mind. She took the audiocom out of her ear and looked at it. The device didn’t look that different from the wireless headsets in use on Earth, just much smaller. Were they from the future? A parallel universe where magic was real? Another planet?
“You’re not from Eastern Europe, are you?” Her voice quieted as her anxiety mounted.
“The details are not important,” Lor insisted. “But Allenton is right. You need to know that Nazerel has powers similar to ours. He can flash into a room without warning or…” He looked at Allenton and asked, “Can he form compulsions?”
“I don’t think so. It’s not like we posted a list of our abilities. Alpha hunters can be competitive, but we bragged about results not techniques.”
“What is an ‘alpha hunter’?” Tension coiled inside her belly and their silence only made her more uncomfortable. She slipped the audiocom into her pocket, hoping Lor wouldn’t notice. She needed some sort of tangible proof that this was really happening. “Who are you? Where did you come from?” Fear rippled through her confusion and her gaze moved toward the door. If she made a run for it, would they let her go? But where did that leave Angie? If Tori didn’t help these two catch Nazerel, what would he do with Angie. “What does this man want with her anyway?”
Allenton took a step toward her and Lor grabbed his arm. “Don’t.”
“She needs to know.”
“No she doesn’t.” Finality made Lor’s tone sharp. “We can protect her without full disclosure.”
“I’d rather know the truth,” she stressed. “No matter how unpleasant or bizarre.”
Lor shook his head, but Allenton twisted free from his grasp and moved in front of her. “Our world is very different from yours.”
“Your ‘world’? You’re from a different planet?”
“We’re from a different galaxy,” Lor muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation’s turn. “And not all of it is that different from Earth. Allenton and Nazerel belong to a group of criminals called the Shadow Assassins.”
“We were exonerated of all wrong doing,” Allenton snapped.
“Only because your leader brainwashed Echo into championing your cause!” Lor took a deep breath, his face averted as he regained his composure. “Fifteen of the most dangerous Shadow Assassins escaped from the military complex where they’d been contained and slinked away to Earth.” Only when his features were completely calm again did he return his gaze to Tori. “Nazerel is the leader of these rebels and he must be found as quickly as possible.”
They still hadn’t answered the most important question. “What does he want with Angie?”
“Shadow Assassins hunt for their mates and hold them prisoner until they’re impregnated.”
Allenton bristled. “She doesn’t need to know—”
“You’re the one who insisted on full disclosure.” Lor was shouting again. “So by the gods we’ll tell her everything. Nazerel has set his sights on your sister. He intends to capture her and seduce her over and over until she is carrying his child. If the child is a girl, she’ll be released. If she bears a boy, Nazerel will keep his son and your sister will never see the child again.”
What he described sounded so barbaric, so inhuman that—inhuman. But they weren’t human. If what they said was true, they had escaped to Earth from somewhere out there among the stars. Her mind was paralyzed by the possibilities. She couldn’t even form a coherent question.
“We’re not going to allow any of that to happen.” Allenton glared at Lor. “Protecting human females is why we’ve come. We will find every last rebel and return them to our world. There will be no captive mates and no stolen children.”
“But it’s true? That’s how it’s done on your world?” Just the possibility that any woman had been subjected to that cycle of events made Tori physically ill.
“The old ways have been abolished and the hunt outlawed,” Allenton assured.
“Which is why they came here,” Lor muttered, then heaved a ragged sigh. “Allenton is correct. We will protect you and prevent any of the rebels from claiming mates. The practice was intolerable on Ontariese and we won’t allow it to spread to Earth.”
“Ontariese. That’s the name of your planet?” Had she really just asked that question? This was so unbelievable.
“I am Lor dar Joon, Master Level mage of the planet Ontariese.” He punctuated the statement with a sweeping bow then motioned to his companion.
“I am Allenton descended from the North, leader of the Mystic Militia.”
“I don’t think either of those titles is going to fit on a business card.” She allowed herself a nervous laugh then took a long, calming breath. “Victoria Logan, set designer.” After a stunned pause she added, “Welcome to Earth.”
Meticulously cloaked in Shadow magic, Nazerel stood in the clearing across from Angie’s apartment. Greenbelt. His language infusion provided the proper word for the grassy space on which he stood. Every word in the English language had been implanted in his brain, but many required context for complete assimilation. It was as if he had an invisible translator following him around whispering words in his ear as they became appropriate.
Beautiful, desirable, female, mate. Those words had popped into his mind the first time he looked at Angie. Unlike the Ontarian peasants, a hunter’s usual prey, Angie had been self-assured and unafraid. Her bright blue gaze met his with obvious interest and he’d never seen hair like hers before. Every color of the harvest threaded through the golden strands, daring him to bury his fingers and anchor her head in place as he ravaged her mouth.
His long-neglected cock stirred at the thought of touching, seducing and finally claiming her. The pleasure givers that Rodyte bitch arranged to service his men had held no appeal for Nazerel. He wanted Angie, a female who was his and his alone.
His obsession had begun even before their brief meeting in the noisy gambling hall. Casino. He’d spent hours reading every detail compiled in Sevrin’s… What had she called them? Dossiers, his internal translator whispered. Many of the females had been beautiful. They were all young and healthy, but there had been something about Angie that spoke to him, attracted and tempted him. And tonight she would be his. Well, she’d be within his grasp, maybe even in his bed, but the battle for her surrender would be long and difficult. He smiled as anticipation swept through him like a drug. He loved nothing better than a good challenge.
Horizontal slats—blinds—partly obscured the front window. He could see someone moving about inside, but they were little more than a shadowed outline. He crossed the parking lot and approached the front door, but he had no intention of announcing his presence. To disperse his corporeal body, he had to release the Shadow shield that concealed him from view. If he didn’t time it just right, he would become visible as he sank through the privacy panel. The same would be true in reverse as he materialized inside the dwelling. It had taken many cycles to master simultaneous transition.
He placed his hands against the privacy panel and gradually released his physical form, allowing his energy to slowly pass through the wood. As he emerged on the inside of her apartment, he manifested a Shadow shield, expanding the field gradually as each centimeter of his body reformed. He took his time, ensuring that nothing he did alerted the occupant to his presence.
The front room was dark, the television’s screen vacant. Light in the sleeping area drew him toward the back of the dwelling, but he paused. Ever cautious, he activated his integrated scanners and analyzed the results reflected on the inside of his right cornea. Environmental statistics scrolled first, followed by energy readings. A familiar energy pattern appeared and he tensed. Deactivating the system so he could focus on his external sensors, he quickly confirmed his suspicion. Allenton had been here, might be here still.
Fine by me. Nazerel was more than ready for a fight.
He crept down the narrow hallway, combining visual sweeps with sensor pulses. Allenton was the obvious choice to pursue the rebel hunters. It took a Shadow Assassin to find a Shadow Assassin. Still, the betrayal infuriated Nazerel. Allenton had experienced the oppression and subjugation fueling this rebellion. He should know better than siding with the self-serving Ontarians.
Easing the privacy panel—door—inward with the toe of his boot, Nazerel leaned slowly forward and checked the small utility room. Bathroom, his language implant corrected. He grinded his teeth, wishing he could turn the stupid thing off. Blending in was important, but he couldn’t afford the distraction right now.
The floor creaked as he neared the bedroom door, momentarily halting his progress. He listened for any indication that she’d heard his approach. Silence. With a controlled breath, he took a careful step and then another, not trusting the floor to cooperate. The door was about half open. It was unlikely he could slip past the barrier without shifting the panel inward. He looked into the room, assessing his options.
Angie sat on the bed, a book open across her lap. The fall of her hair obscured her face and—her hair was several shades too dark. In the muted lamplight he could barely discern the red.
This wasn’t Angie.
It was a trap!
He shoved the door open and dove for the bed, knowing a hostage was his only hope of escaping this scene alive. His fingers tangled in her too-dark hair as an energy pulse whizzed past his neck, narrowly missing his flesh. Allenton could sense his energy pattern, giving the traitor a basic idea of where Nazerel was, but their Shadow shields kept them both from knowing the other’s exact location.
The female cried out as Nazerel dragged her off the bed, too angry to govern his strength.
“Release her and lower your shield or I’ll fry you where you stand!”
Nazerel pivoted, shielding his body with the human. His gut twisted at the cowardly move, but they’d left him no choice but self-preservation. The Mystic stood near the doorway, his hands glowing with yellow-orange light. Pyrokins could be deadly fighters, but they frequently destroyed far more than their target.
Without releasing his shield, he taunted, “Go ahead. You can’t burn me without frying this female. Now get the hell out of my way.”
Stinging particles peppered his back, sizzling through his garments and creating holes in his shield. The female cried out as one of the energy particles burned the back of her arm. Easily anticipating Allenton’s next move, Nazerel shoved the human forward and rolled to the left.
The Mystic lunged for the female, twisting sharply with her in his arms and shielding her with his broad back. Allenton’s second blast hit the Mystic in a concentrated stream, boring deep into his body. The Mystic screamed, but maintained his protective hold on the woman.
Panic surged through Tori with terrifying force as the stench of burning flesh filled her nose. Lor sagged against her back, arms still tightly wrapped around her. She turned within the circle of his embrace and did her best to hold him up. Damn the man was heavy. Pain glazed his turquoise gaze and then the irises began to rotate, swirling the rings of color into one mesmerizing mass. Stunned by the bizarre transformation, she just stared at him, unable to think or even move. Then she jerked herself back to the present and steadied his trembling body as she eased them both to the floor. He ended up sprawled across her lap, legs tangled with hers. She awkwardly rolled Lor onto his side, pressing him tightly against her so she could see his back. Blood seeped from the gaping hole which exposed torn muscle and sinew. She refused to be derailed by the gore. There had to be something she could do to help him.
“Hiding behind a woman?” Allenton snapped as he flashed into sight. The strain on his angular features and fury in his blue-ringed eyes illustrated his disapproval more clearly than his sarcastic words. “I thought you were better than that.” He must have had some idea where Nazerel was because he kept his angry gaze focused on the same spot as he backed into the tiny bathroom and snatched a towel off the rack. He tossed the towel to Tori without shifting his focus from his still invisible adversary.
Nazerel finally came into view as Tori pressed the towel against Lor’s bleeding back. Nazerel looked even meaner than he had in Allenton’s memory, if that was possible. Lor had called them Shadow Assassins and their predatory natures were obvious as they faced off.
Nazerel glared at Allenton then glanced at her. “Where is Angie?”
“It’s none of your damn business,” Tori flared. “Stay away from my sister!”
His gaze narrowed and he took a step toward her.
“Don’t.” Allenton shifted the angle of his pulse pistol, the threat unmistakable.
Dismissing her with an angry snarl, Nazerel turned back to Allenton and switched to their native language. His deep, angry voice sounded in the still room for a moment and then his meaning manifested in her mind. Allenton must have translated Nazerel’s rant and passed the words across Tori’s telepathic comlink. She didn’t stop to dissect the details. She was too busy absorbing the information.
“How can you betray your brothers?” Nazerel sneered. “You are one of our best, most passionate hunters. How can you work for them? They are as bad as the elders. They promised us freedom, yet they control us at every turn. We are hunters! We must hunt. It is our nature to track, stalk and overpower. Life has no meaning without the hunt.”
“The old ways are gone,” Allenton responded in the same language, but his meaning also filtered into Tori’s mind. It was like watching a badly dubbed foreign film. “We cannot expect any modern society to accept our Customs. We must—”
“The Customs are sacred! It is our responsibility to protect our way of life, to preserve it for future generations. We are political refugees, not criminals.”
“Lor is going to bleed to death while you two bicker like a couple of women. We have to get him to a hospital. Now!” She was careful not to reveal what Allenton had been doing.
Nazerel muttered something Allenton didn’t bother to translate, then Nazerel stomped toward her. Allenton covered him with his futuristic-looking pistol, but made no move to stop him. Nazerel bent to one knee and moved the blood-soaked towel aside. “I will seal the wound, but you will remain here until long after we have gone.”
“We? You’re taking Allenton with you?”
He ignored her questions, his attention fixed on his task. His gaze clouded as his right hand hovered over the ragged wound. His palm glowed, turning his skin translucent and then the faint blue rings in his eyes illuminated like neon signs. He never touched the torn flesh and she couldn’t see a stream of energy, yet the edges of the wound began to regenerate. The opening grew smaller and smaller until only a puckered scar remained.
“He might survive.” Nazerel stood and approached Allenton. Their gazes locked and silence overtook the room. Tori had no doubt their debate had resumed, but they were communicating mind-to-mind now. Allenton no longer included her in the conversation, which didn’t seem like a good sign.
Something Nazerel said spiked Allenton’s temper. He shoved Nazerel backward and berated him verbally. Nazerel responded just as passionately. Allenton fell silent for a moment and the look on his face filled Tori with uncertainty. Nazerel seemed to be winning the argument. Allenton looked frustrated now, not angry. She even detected a hint of regret.
Nazerel looked at her and Lor, malice clear in his expression.
Allenton objected, grasping Nazerel’s upper arm.
Tori cringed, wishing she could disappear as easily as they did. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what they were debating now. Could they risk leaving witnesses alive?
Dread turned her insides to ice as she desperately looked for anything resembling a weapon. She couldn’t just sit here and die. Who would warn Angie?
Nazerel raised his brows, likely issuing a telepathic ultimatum.
After a tense pause Allenton nodded and Nazerel relaxed.
Had they just agreed to let her live or let her die?
Tori braced for the worst, holding her breath and pressing Lor’s warm body against her. She didn’t want to die, but she was unarmed and helpless against these…aliens. Would pleading do her any good? Surely she possessed something of value to these men.
She opened her mouth to begin the negotiation, but no words made it past her dry throat.