Operation Hydra (32 page)

Joy unfurled within Krysta and she gave Dro Tar a spontaneous hug. “Oh, how I’ve missed you. Everyone here is
so
serious.”

“If this position ruins Commander Aune… guess that would be Director Aune now, wouldn’t it? Anyway, if he gets all sanctimonious, you let me know.”

“I can handle Trey.”

“I just bet you can.” Dro Tar snorted and crossed to the floor to ceiling windows. “Holy shit, would ya look at that.” Spread out in graduating elevations, following the steep contours of the day moon, the City of Tears was an eclectic mixture of lush beauty and brutal fortification.

“I must have stood there for the better part of a month after we arrived,” Krysta said. “It’s hypnotizing.”

“Maybe it’s not so dreadful after all.” Dro Tar’s voice was hushed with awe. “You just need to let me redecorate.”

Krysta laughed.

A distant rumble interrupted the conversation. The vibration built, the sound intensified and a vortex opened in the middle of the room. Tal rushed out.

“Come.” He proffered his
hand,
the intensity in his expression brooked no refusal. Krysta shot Dro Tar a panicked glance, but went to Tal.

“Should I com Trey?” Dro Tar asked.

“He is already on his way,” Tal said, making Krysta’s heart skip another beat.

“Make yourself at home or let yourself out.” Krysta offered her guest a distracted wave. “I’ll com you later.”

She tried to scan for Belle, to assure herself that her twin was still alive, but the roar of the transport conduit engulfed her. In the past seven months, she’d become accustomed to the spinning lights and weightlessness, but today the sensations compounded her fear.

They emerged in the Conservatory’s infirmary and Krysta’s hand flew to her mouth. Seven healers circled one of the narrow treatment tables, a visible ring of Mystic energy pulsing around them.

She couldn’t see the patient, but surges of chaotic emotion and terrified thoughts bombarded her. The Mystics chanted softly. Krysta could hear panting, but Belle’s frightened voice was only in her mind. A muted rumble announced the opening of another transport conduit.

“That must be Trey,” Tal whispered and motioned her toward the door.

She followed Tal out into the small lobby. Trey stood there with Master Gerr. The Mystic inclined his head, but left without speaking. Dressed in his black and copper uniform, Trey looked fierce and intimidating, but his amber gaze glowed with compassion and concern.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Vee called the healers this morning, but they have been unable to stabilize Belle’s stasis,” Tal explained. His smoky gaze moved from his brother to Krysta and back. “Why was this kept from us? Charlotte will be —”

“Tell the High Queen that Belle’s condition was strictly
need
to know.
” Krysta repeated the phrase she’d heard over and over regarding her friend Saebin. Trey slipped his arm around Krysta’s shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. She took a deep breath. “Why is the stasis deteriorating?”

“The child wishes to be born.”

Tal’s simple statement rocked Krysta back a step. “What? The child is deteriorating the stasis? How can an infant have that much control?”

“That would be a question better posed to you.” Tal’s gaze narrowed and the thick coil of his black hair tightened. “Just how dangerous is this child? Will anyone be able to control him once he leaves his mother’s womb?”

“How is Belle?” Trey emphasized, part question, part warning.

“We are uncertain.” Tal glanced toward the door,
then
fixed his gaze on Krysta. “Go to her on the metaphysical plane. See if you can determine what she wishes us to do.”

Not waiting for her response, Tal returned to the infirmary.

Trey took Krysta by the hand and led her to the row of chairs situated along the wall. She sat beside him, but he pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. His smile caressed her, encouraged her. Splaying her hand over his heart, she absorbed the rhythm, drawing comfort from the strong, steady beat.

“Go on.” He kissed her brow. “I’ve got you.”

She closed her eyes and released her spirit, soaring through the velvety darkness, focused only on the light. For a moment the tranquil, walled garden behind their villa appeared, but the image shifted, bent, and skewed. Struggling to retrieve her visualization, she fought against the uninvited images forming within her brain.

A vast field of wild flowers unrolled like a carpet. Their fragrance filled her head, made her dizzy with their intoxicating perfume. The images undulated all around her and she sank to her knees. Soft petals of every imaginable hue caressed her palms.

How could she visualize colors she’d never seen? The high arching sky mixed purple and blue. She rolled onto her back and watched pastel clouds drift past. Rubbing her eyes with her fingertips, she tried to concentrate. Why did she feel so muddled?
Muddled.
That’s what she sensed when she tried to contact Belle. Krysta sat up. This was Belle’s visualization. She was in Belle’s mind.

“Belle?” she called. “Where are you?”

She heard a rustle, a giggle, and then a sob.

“Belle.
Let me help you. Where are you?”

Krysta felt pressure against her back and gasped, but some unseen force kept her from turning around. “I’m so tired,” Belle whispered from directly behind her.

Why wouldn’t she show herself? Krysta felt someone lean against her back, but she could hardly move. “What can we do? Should we bring you out of stasis? How is Seth doing this? Is he harming you?”

“He doesn’t mean to. He just needs so much energy and I have so little left.”

Belle made it sound like she was…

“Please, no,” Krysta whispered on a sob. With a surge of Mystic energy, Krysta broke free of the hindrance. She pivoted and took Belle by the shoulders, gently turned her around. Belle’s once shiny hair hung in lank strands about her shoulders, distinct lines bracketed her mouth and framed eyes so faded and deeply sunken it was hard to tell their color. “Oh, Belle, let me help you. How can we help you? What can we do?”

Pulling her sister’s limp body into her arms, Krysta rocked her. Anger coiled until Krysta ached with the need to lash out. Hydran’s cadaverous arm, reaching from beyond the grave, dealt the final blow. Krysta was powerless to stop the events he had set in motion.

Sobbing into Belle’s hair, Krysta stubbornly shoved back each surge of anguish, fixing her focus on her twin. “Tell me what to do. How can we help you?”

Belle eased away from her and managed an anemic smile. “You can’t change the past. You can only protect the future. A wise man once told you that. You should listen to him more often.”

“No!” Krysta covered her face with her hands, shaking with rage. “I will not lose you.”

Warm, and sweet with the scent of flowers, a breeze curled around her, rocked her,
made
her sway. She couldn’t bear to lower her hands and see Belle’s emaciated features and the resignation in her sister’s eyes.

“Krysta.”

The breeze seemed to whisper her name. Something touched her shoulder and Krysta gasped. The descent of her hands stalled at her mouth. She held her eyes wide open, afraid to blink. Their mother stood beside Belle. Radiant and vital, Krystabel’s nimbus encompassed Belle’s kneeling form.

Krysta shot to her feet and hugged her mother, crying out softly when her arms closed around a tangible body. “Oh, Mama, thank God you’re here. How do we help her? Are you back for good? What does all this mean?”

Krystabel eased her away and demanded attention with her gaze. “We haven’t much time. The portal won’t remain open indefinitely and I can’t stay here.”

Raking her hands through her hair, Krysta helped Belle to her feet. “What portal? I don’t understand any of this.”

“Summon Charlotte.” Krystabel slipped her arm around Belle’s waist, but spoke to Krysta. “It’s past time I was reunited with my sister.”

“This is Belle’s visualization,” Krysta said. “I’m not sure I can bring Charlotte here.”

“Just call out to her. She’ll come to you.”

Krysta had no more than formed Charlotte’s name within her mind when the High Queen materialized in a shimmering burst of color.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Her lovely features reflected a nearly comic mixture of excitement and compassion. She moved immediately to Krystabel, her turquoise gaze memorizing every nuance of her twin’s face.

“There really isn’t much time,” Krystabel said again. “I wish this could be different, but there is so much to explain. I must focus on information.”

Charlotte gave a regal nod. “I understand.”

“When Tal purged the metaphysical plane to free you from Joon’s Mystic trap, he opened a portal.”

“He had no choice,” Charlotte protested. “The trap was siphoning my energy. I would have died.”

Krystabel smiled. “Why are you defending him? This is an explanation, not an accusation.” Her voice took on a brittle edge as she went on. “That day in Hydran’s lab, when his men tortured poor Saura, I had to absorb her injuries. There was no other way to save her.”

“You were brave and selfless to do so,” Krysta said emphatically.

“Perhaps.”
Her mother paused, her expression inscrutable. Was she weighing all her bravery had cost? Or simply collecting her thoughts?

“I completely depleted my Mystic energy, so I retreated to the metaphysical plane,” Krystabel continued. “Even there, I had no control. I was tossed about, buffeted and battered until I sensed the portal. It seemed my only option, so I stepped through. The other dimension has sustained me, but I don’t belong there. And yet I can’t return to this dimension either. It’s very confusing.”

Krysta moved closer. “You told me Belle’s child would be able to bring you back. That was the primary reason I haven’t interfered with Vee’s bizarre approach to this whole situation.”

Belle moaned and Krystabel sat in the wildflowers, pulling Belle onto her lap. She stroked her daughter’s cheek, her gaze both tender and sad. “Vee knows what he’s doing, but his emotions are engaged as they have never been before.”

“Vee is the father of Belle’s child?” Charlotte circled behind her sister, discreetly looking at Belle.

“It’s a long story.” Krysta tucked her hair behind her ear, avoiding Charlotte’s gaze.

Krystabel continued to tenderly stroke Belle’s face as she explained, “The child’s abilities will be limited by the amount of energy available to him. An infant, any infant, has a very limited supply, so long as he can’t tap other sources.”

“Then, we should deliver the child.” Krysta crossed her arms and uncrossed them, hating the anxiety eating at her composure. “Will delivering Seth restore Belle to health? Will we be able to infuse her with energy once
—
”

“It’s time for Belle’s energy to rejoin with yours.”

Her mother’s words silenced Krysta and stunned her with their finality. “But…”

“What I did to you was unnatural. You were never meant to be twins. It’s time.”

Krystabel looked at Charlotte and smiled. “We will have the reunion we deserve. We both know we will, but today isn’t that day. Can you bind Seth’s ability to access other energy sources? Don’t try to do more. I’m not sure what the result would be for either of you.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Krystabel took a deep, shuddering breath and shifted her gaze back to her daughter. “Are you ready?”

“No,” Krysta cried. “I don’t want this. I —”

“You will understand in time.”

The sweet scent of wild flowers wafted around Krysta in an intoxicating swirl. She shook her head, fighting the lethargy, the tingling tranquility. She wanted to be angry. She needed her rage! Fury made her strong. Anger kept her safe. Peace washed over her, a tingling river of energy.

Gentleness.

Krysta fought against it, determined to resist, but the salve tenderly seeped into her being, healing long-neglected wounds.

Control.

Gradually, her defenses surrendered to the balmy tide. Krysta waited for the vulnerability, the dreaded weakness. How could she exist without the protection of her emotional barricade?

Balance.

She felt the missing pieces of her soul fit back into place — and wept at the beauty it created.

Trey shifted the squirming bundle from the crook of one arm to the other and felt his heart swell with tenderness. For the past three weeks Seth had completely disrupted his orderly life. Demanding and energetic, the baby asserted his desires quite vocally whenever the need arose. Trey smiled. Despite the lack of sleep and the never-ending cycle of activity, he and Krysta had never been happier.

Knowing the Conservatory was incompatible with an
infant,
Vee had approached Krysta with the idea of keeping Seth at the villa. Trey had agreed to the arrangement, sensing that his soul’s mate needed this tangible connection to the sister she had lost.

Krysta would quickly correct him if she heard him use that phrase. Belle wasn’t lost; their energy had been rejoined. He knew it was true, but he also saw the flickers of sadness in Krysta’s eyes when she thought no one was looking. Regardless of the completeness Krysta now felt, she would miss her twin.

“I can’t believe how strong he is,” Trey said. The baby wrapped his chubby fingers around Trey’s thumb and dragged it down to his mouth. “I think he’s hungry — again.”

Krysta laughed, her turquoise-marbled purple eyes shining. “Where does he put it?”

The changes in Krysta since her rejoining with Belle had been remarkable. Her eyes were the most obvious, but not the most important. Her basic personality remained unchanged. She was vivacious and passionate, but now a subtlety softened her highs and lows.

Seth closed his greedy mouth around the captive thumb and Trey shook his head. He may have agreed to the arrangement out of love for his soul’s mate, but this little stinker had wiggled his way firmly into Trey’s heart.

He stood endlessly at the side of the railed sleeping station, watching the baby. Each sound Seth made, each expression, each new movement fascinated Trey. He had even found it easier to be nice to Vee. As if summoned by the thought, the distinct rumble of a transport conduit vibrated the floor. Vee glided from the vortex, his robes fanned out behind him.