Fallen Star (21 page)

“What a cluster.” Gerrod crossed the room
and looked at Roxie more closely. “Did she faint or did you flip
her switch?”

“I used a compulsion. She should wake up
shortly.”

“You better hope she does.” Gerrod sounded
almost amused and Nazerel definitely didn’t understand the
joke.

“Who is she?” He tried again, allowing his
impatience to show.

“Why did you think Sevrin meant to kill
her?” Gerrod evaded.

“Roxie’s a tattoo artist and she’s been
working on my men. Sevrin is afraid she’s overheard things she
shouldn’t and Sevrin always ties up loose ends.”

Gerrod chuckled and turned around. “Want a
beer.”

After one concerned glance at Roxie’s still
form, Nazerel followed Gerrod into the kitchen. “Sevrin has
obviously been screwing with me, which I’m sure doesn’t surprise
you. Who the hell is the girl?”

“That, my foolish friend, is the ace up my
sleeve. If Sevrin tries to screw with me again, the Mystic Militia
will learn all of Roxie’s secrets.”

“Meaning you have no intention of telling me
anything.”

Gerrod pulled two beers out of the
refrigerator and handed one to Nazerel. “I will tell you that
Sevrin needs Roxie much more than she needs you. Take Roxie back
before she wakes up and pray to every god you know that she thinks
she imagined the entire thing.”

Nazerel twisted off the top and took a long
swig of beer. It did nothing to calm the anger seething inside him.
Sevrin obviously thought he was a fool, managed to make him look
like a fool at every turn. “How do you know my father?”

“What Sevrin told you was basically true. I
worked for Pern Keire and so did your father. Pern arranged for
South to train me and—”

“You founded the Dirty Dozen,” Nazerel cut
in, already confused. “Aren’t you Ontarian? My father trained
Rodytes.”

“Your father trained hybrids of many
varieties using Rodyte techniques.”

“You’re an Ontarian hybrid?”

Gerrod’s brows arched as he took a swig.
“Something like that.”

“Why are you still on Earth?”

Gerrod laughed. “Hasn’t anyone told you what
happened to the others? I wasn’t going to let some prissy Mystic
rearrange my mind. I was ready to die fighting, and when the team
chasing me thought that’s what I’d done. I stepped back and let
them believe it.”

“Which stranded you on Earth, living as a
human.”

Unaffected by the distain in Nazerel’s tone,
Gerrod shrugged. “At least I’m living.” He set down the bottle and
motioned toward the other room. “Go put her back before she wakes
up. Sevrin is not going to kill her.”

“This looks like the ultra-secret army base
they create for movies. I just didn’t realize places like this
actually exist.” Jillian walked beside Odintar, feeling like a
rescue puppy exploring a real house for the first time. “Why do
they call it the Bunker?”

“This is the only level that’s above ground.
The rest of the complex is subterranean.”

“Of course it is.” She laughed. “Aren’t all
the best Top Secret installations buried underground.”

She’d driven to a rest stop just off the
highway that allowed overnight parking. Odintar still insisted
she’d sleep in her own bed tonight, but he was making allowances
for the unexpected. Probably wise, being that the unexpected seemed
to be his stock and trade.

“Morgan Hoyt, that’s Elias’ boss, runs this
place and she’s been gracious enough to sublet a portion of the
complex to the Mystic Militia. We were going stir-crazy on our
ship.”

“Wait, did you say ‘she’s been gracious
enough’? Morgan is female?”

“I’ve never seen her naked, but I have no
reason to doubt her claim.”

She slapped his arm. “I bet you’ve pictured
her naked, you pervert.”

He was obviously unmoved by her annoyance.
“I suspect every man on this base has pictured Morgan naked, or at
least the ones partial to curvy females.”

If he was trying to make her jealous, he was
succeeding.

They turned right at the end of a long
corridor and found Elias waiting for them. Well, two could play at
this game. Elias was certainly fantasy worthy. “Hi there,
handsome.” She looped her arm through his and flashed a flirtatious
smile.

Elias looked at Odintar and raised both
brows. “What did you do to piss her off?”

“Told her about Morgan.”

“I see.” He patted Jillian’s hand. “Morgan
is a bona-fide workaholic. She keeps herself much too busy for any
sort of social life. There’s not a man around who can turn her
head. And believe me many have tried. You have nothing to fear from
Morgan.”

“So the only reason I don’t need to worry is
because Morgan’s not interested in men?”

Odintar laughed while Elias looked confused.
“That’s not what I said at all. Morgan is interested in men. She’s
just more interested in the work we do here.”

She took pity on him and smiled. “We’re just
having fun while we can. I’m not looking forward to this
meeting.”

Elias reached over and activated the
elevator before he spoke again. “I just met King Indric, but from
what I’ve been told—”

“King Indric?” Odintar and Jillian chorused.
Then they each clarified the reason for their outburst.

“I requested a representative from Guild
Air,” Odintar said. “Not the region’s king. Is Lor responsible for
this?”

“I’m going to be assessed by a king?” Panic
sped Jillian’s pulse and urged her to run in the opposite
direction. “Why would a king, any king, bother with me?”

“King Indric wouldn’t be here without a good
reason. I just don’t know what it is.” The elevator door slid open
and Elias motioned them inside.

“Am I allowed to refuse?” She hated feeling
like a coward, but she couldn’t seem to slow her breathing or calm
her racing heart.

“No one is going to hurt you,
gennari
.” Odintar took her by the shoulders and turned her
to face him. “We are sworn to your protection.”

“He’s right.” Elias moved into her
peripheral vision. “None of us will let King Indric harm you. Even
if that were his intention, which I’m certain it’s not.”

“What if he wants to take me to Bilarri for
training or whatever? Earth is my home. I don’t want to leave
here.”

Elias held the door with his outstretched
arm. “You won’t be forced to do anything.”

She scoffed. “You’re going to say no to a
king?”

Her doubt didn’t change his determined
expression. “Not just me. You’re part of our team and we protect
our own. If King Indric steps out of line, we’ll all be there to
pull him back. Now get on the damn elevator. Your doubt is
insulting.”

Odintar chuckled, clearly agreeing with
Elias’ strategy.

The slap had been verbal not physical, but
the result was the same. Her panic eased and she was able to
process his words. Okay fine, so she was about to go before alien
royalty. Why should that rattle her after everything else she’d
been through?

She moved to the back corner of the elevator
and scrubbed her hand over her face. She had to stop thinking with
human perspectives. The rules had obviously changed. She wasn’t a
showgirl anymore. Hadn’t Tori said Lor was the head of some Great
House? Aria had married a Bilarrian nobleman. And now Jillian was
about to go before a king.

Rather than bombard her companions with
questions, she took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Focus on
one thing at a time. “How should I greet him? Do I bow or curtsy or
something?”

“Royal protocol is only observed at formal
events and official court functions,” Elias told her. “A simple
handshake will do.”

“And rumor has it King Indric is a terrible
flirt, so don’t take it personally,” Odintar added.

“I won’t if you won’t,” she countered,
unable to even imagine what a Bilarrian king looked like.

Elias led them to a large open area. It
looked sort of like a gymnasium crossed with a martial arts dojo.
Familiar, and some not so familiar, workout equipment was situated
at one end, while the other was surrounded by mirrors. Large padded
mats carpeted the floor.

She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but
this was definitely not it. Three men stood in the middle of the
padded area. All three turned as she entered the room. She
recognized Lor, but the other two were unfamiliar. One stayed
slightly back and only glanced at her, while the remaining man met
her gaze directly. From his square stance to the confidant tilt of
his head, everything about him projected authority. His
gold-streaked black hair had been pulled back and bound into a
wrist-thick mass. His black-and-gold coloring was echoed in his
rich garments. The outfit looked part business suit and part
uniform. As she approached, she realized the rings separating his
pupils from his irises were gold rather than red or blue. She’d
never seen anything so beautiful.

Despite Elias’ advice, she dipped into an
automatic curtsy. “Your Majesty.”

Indric caught both her hands and raised her
knuckles to his lips for a light kiss. Then his gaze locked with
hers and the golden rings shimmered. “May I enter?”

She felt the brush of his energy against her
mind and tried not to panic. This was common for these people. They
exchanged images, thoughts and energy as easily as humans sent text
messages. Unsure of her voice, she nodded and quickly closed her
eyes.

With a deep chuckle, he released her hands
and stepped back. “You can open your eyes now. I’ve seen all I need
to see.”

But she hadn’t felt anything yet.

Realization unfurled and Jillian shivered.
He’d only asked permission out of courtesy. He could have scanned
her mind without her knowing it; scanned it and probably a whole
lot more.

“What did you see?” Her voice sounded calmer
than she felt. Hopefully her expression was equally convincing. She
might be quaking on the inside, but she didn’t want this powerful
stranger to think she was a spineless fool.

“It’s a rather long story. Shall we find a
more comfortable setting?” Without waiting for her preference, he
waved his hand and the scene around them morphed.

Jillian gasped and wobbled before her mind
accepted the new input. She stood beside an ornate loveseat in a
stylish salon. Complete with massive marble fireplace and oversized
oil paintings, the room created an old-world ambiance. Odintar
stood at her side, but Indric hadn’t allowed the others
to…transport with them? “Did we teleport or is this some sort of
mind trick?”

Amusement softened Indric’s gaze as he
explained, “We’re on the metaphysical plane and I’ve paused our
time stream. As soon as I release the visualization, we’ll return
to reality and everything will continue on as if we never
left.”

“Nifty trick.” She was pretty sure even
Odintar couldn’t pause a time stream. This was another indication
of Indric’s power.

“Have a seat.” He looked at Odintar and
added, “Both of you.”

“Is Lor not allowed to know what you
discovered?” Odintar sat and held out his hand, encouraging Jillian
to join him on the loveseat. She sat and he stretched his arm along
the back, barely touching her shoulders.

“It’s up to Jillian whom she informs.”
Indric sat facing them and the padded armchair suddenly seemed like
a throne.

“And yet I am here.”

Indric’s smile made him look younger and
less intimidating. “I just looked into her mind. Mates should have
no secrets from each other.”

Odintar cringed and Jillian felt obliged to
point out, “We’re lovers, not mates.”

“If you say so.”

Rather than argue about something that was
really none of Indric’s business, Jillian asked, “What have you
learned?”

“You are not merely a child of my region;
you are a direct decedent of my bloodline.”

She kept herself from laughing, but just
barely. Her mind was so saturated with unexpected developments she
couldn’t even find the strength to feel surprised. Less than a week
ago she’d been lying in a hospital bed, barely able to walk, and
now she was moving things with her mind and an alien king had just
claimed her as kin.

Was this where he insisted that Bilarrian
royalty, no matter how distant, belonged on Bilarri? If that was
where this conversation was headed, he was in for
disappointment.

“How is that possible?” Odintar asked. “She
isn’t a foundling. She was raised by her human mother.” His arm
shifted from the loveseat to her shoulders.

“My sister was a war bride.” Indric paused.
“You’re Ontarian. Do you know what that term means?”

Tension rolled up Odintar’s side and
hardened his expression. “Most believe I’m half Ontarian. In truth,
my mother was a war bride. She hid me with friends on Ontariese
when she was lucky enough to escape her captor.”

Indric shifted his gaze back to Jillian.
“And do you understand the complexities of this subject?”

She nodded. “Rodyte warriors captured
Bilarrian females, claiming they were spoils of war. That’s where
the Shadow Assassins got the idea to capture their mates.”

“Shadow Assassins were simply replenishing
their ranks,” Indric pointed out. “With war brides, the intent was
more convoluted. Rodytes were trying to restore magic powers to
their offspring, but it also became a battle of wits. They prided
themselves in besting our security measures. The harder we tried to
protect our women, the bolder the Rodytes became.”

“Can I ask a rude question?”

“I doubt I’ll find it rude, but please
continue.”

Each time Indric spoke Jillian felt warmth
melt the tension from her muscles. Was he doing it intentionally or
was it a side effect of the metaphysical plane? “Rodytes can’t
manipulate magic, correct?”

“Most can’t, though they have technologies
that replicate many of our abilities.”