Unique Ink (Shadow Assassins Book 5) (7 page)

She pressed her hand against her throat, barely smothering another gasp. “Where did you get eleven Shadow Assassins? That’s more than half of those remaining on Earth.” He couldn’t have used the hunters. The two remaining suppression collars were securely locked in her private quarters. Without the collar’s debilitating effects, the earthbound Shadow Assassins would have teleported away from danger. Orrit had to have snatched his test subjects directly from Ontariese. But when, how…

His smile turned snide and he leaned his hip against the workstation. “You doubt my resourcefulness? You’re not the only one with well-placed connections. Salidan’s bonded mate might not have royal blood, but her family is every bit as powerful as yours.”

“Where did you get them?” Now she was the one glaring.

“They were on a training exercise launched from the City of Tears. I arranged for the fighters to be intercepted. Twenty Shadow Assassins were taken and the four instructors killed. Then their ships was blown up, making it look like an accident. Pieces of the instructors were littered among the debris to make the scene more believable.”

“Until they scan the body parts and realize what’s missing.” It was a paranoid concern. Even if the Ontarians suspected foul play, assassination was a far more likely crime than abduction. Many on Ontariese had reason to hate Shadow Assassins. “You said you captured twenty. Where are the other nine?”

“Four are in a holding cell. The other five are in the infirmary. Dr. Utoff is relatively certain at least two of them will survive.”

“Relatively certain? What does that mean? What exactly did your team do to them?”

Rather than reply, Orrit returned to his workstation and scooted his stool out of the way. For one infuriating moment, she though he was ignoring her questions and continuing on with his work. Then he manipulated the three-dimensional display. “Scans were insufficient. We needed direct access to the simplenata gland in their brains and, of course, their reproductive organs.”

An image of the infirmary came into view. Tall, impossibly thin Dr. Utoff moved between the beds, checking readings and adjusting levels on various consoles. Five of the six beds were occupied by men. Actually, two looked to be little more than boys. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, refusing to acknowledge the emotions compressing her chest. Three of the five males had bandages wrapped around their heads and she shuddered to think where else the poor men were bandaged.

“Which does Utoff believe will survive?” She didn’t know why she cared. She shouldn’t care. They were a means to an end, an end she’d pursued her entire adult life.

“It was impossible to access the simpenata gland without causing significant damage to the surrounding tissue. Utoff is squeamish about euthanasia, so he’s basically waiting for those three to die. The other two tolerated the procedures well, but I’m not sure they’ll want to live without their reproductive organs. Warrior types are strange about things like that. If they insist on death once they’ve learned what we’ve done, I’ll dispose of them while Utoff is elsewhere.”

Shocked and repelled, she just stared at the image. They’d been systematically mutilated, analyzed and dissected while they were still alive. And these were the lucky ones. Eleven others hadn’t even survived the ruthless experimentation. Sevrin shivered as bile rose into the back of her throat.

Her reaction would have infuriated her father.
Keires are stronger than this. Keires have ruled for centuries because of our brutal convictions. Pull it together, girl!
His deep, demanding voice echoed through her memories.

Gradually, cold detachment spread through Sevrin, easing the pressure in her chest and turning her heart back to ice. They were criminals,
assassins
. At least this way their deaths had meaning. “And the human test subjects? How many are there and how have they tolerated the transmutation?”

Orrit made a quick adjustment to the display as he said, “This is the first female injected with the synthetic compound. Her transition began four days ago.”

The image of a holding cell appeared, a pale blonde woman curled up on her side across the bunk. She stared across the room, her features devoid of expression. “Is her transformation complete? Is she just depressed or were there complications?”

Orrit shrugged and a lingering spark of guilt pinged Sevrin’s soul. How could he be so indifferent to their suffering? Was the man incapable of emotion? “Utoff isn’t sure. He’s familiar with human physiology, but this procedure has never been done before. Her vital signs are stable, but she’s been largely unresponsive for the past two days. Utoff has been unable to determine if it’s a psychological response to captivity or if her brain chemistry was adversely affected by the transformation.”

But the female was still alive and the mutation appeared to be stable. This was a much better outcome than Dr. Porffer achieved. “And the others?”

“There is only one, so far.” He called up the image of a different holding cell. This female sat on the bunk, a tablet computer in her hands, absently scrolling through the pages of an electronic book. “Salidan injected her with nanites before we gave her the compound. The nanites were able to regulate the transition, making it less traumatic and creating a more stable result.”

Sevrin had always thought nanites played an important part in the transformation. That was why she’d insisted that Salidan join the team. At first her uncle refused, insisting that he couldn’t be without Salidan for even a few weeks. Salidan was brilliant, his work years ahead of any other nanotechnologist in their star system. Besides, Salidan’s bonded mate was from the highest echelon of society. Not even the Crown Stirate angered those families without a damn good reason. As a last resort, Sevrin had reminded her uncle that completing this project had been her father’s dying wish. It was emotional blackmail, but Quentin finally relented and issued a royal summons to Salidan. Apparently, Sevrin’s instincts had been right. It seemed unlikely that Orrit would have progressed this far without Salidan’s involvement.

“Both of these females are human-Ontarian hybrids?” she asked.

Orrit nodded as he deactivated his display. “Unfortunately, the male who’s DNA we replicated was only marginally gifted, so neither of these females will have significant abilities. We wanted to perfect the process before attempting to incorporate the genetic pattern of any of the hunters.”

“I understand.” She was torn by the progress. They were closer to her goal than ever before and yet several intimidating obstacles remained. She wanted this so badly, she was almost afraid to hope. “We might have a ready supply of Shadow Assassins, but only a few are truly gifted.”

“Yet that is the next step.” He slipped his hands back into his pockets and moved to the corner of the table. “With your permission, I’d like to attempt a conversion using Flynn’s DNA as a pattern for our formula.”

She carefully guarded her expression and kept her tone conversational. “Will he be harmed by the procedure?”

Orrit chuckled. “None of us would dare harm your favorite pet, your highness. All I require is a blood sample and a reasonable amount of his ejaculate.”

She nodded, having already revealed too much with her concern. “I’d like the female to be a human-Rodyte hybrid this time. Will that complicate the experiment?”

Again his amusement was obvious, the gleam in his eyes knowing. “It requires a different formula. Luckily, I’m almost finished with the Rodyte version of the compound. Still, it makes more sense to introduce one new variable at a time. If a human-Ontarian female tolerates Flynn’s pattern, I’ll then attempt a Rodyte conversion.”

“All right.” He watched her silently, so she added, “You’ve done very well. I’m pleased.”

Rather than the beaming smile she expected, he acknowledged the praise with a subtle nod and went right back to work.

* * * * *

Morgan looked up from her laptop as Elias knocked on the doorframe to her office. The door had been open, as per usual, but Morgan had been engrossed in her task. As per usual too. “How’s Roxie?” After a few keystrokes, likely to close the program, Morgan lowered the screen and folded her hands on top of the small computer.

Elias crossed to the chairs in front of her desk and sat. He wasn’t sure how to answer. There was something about Roxie that bothered him. He was convinced everything she’d told him was true, and yet he hesitated to share what he’d learned. He felt an unmistakable need to protect her, though he couldn’t identify the cause of his unease. He’d never lied to Morgan, never intentionally deceived her. So why was he tempted to do so now?

He wanted to smuggle Roxie out of the compound and stash her somewhere safe. Safe? He sighed. If Sevrin Keire sent one of the Shadow Assassins after Roxie, he’d be completely outmatched. It wasn’t something a former Army Ranger cared to admit, but he wouldn’t let his pride compromise his ability to protect her.

“Did you need something or were you just lonely?” Though Morgan’s face remained serene, amusement shone in her bright blue eyes.

Most saw Morgan as cold and unapproachable. Elias knew better, had spent enough time with her to see beyond her professional reserve. Morgan was driven, but she wasn’t cold. “Roxie wasn’t surprised to learn she’d been tattooing aliens. She’d already figured out as much on her own.”

“Had she figured out anything we don’t already know?” Her thumb tapped out a rhythm on the laptop.

“Sevrin used a language infuser on her.”

Her hands stilled then she slid the laptop aside. “Why?”

“She wanted Roxie to spy on the men and Roxie didn’t speak Rodyte.”

“Did it work?” She sounded skeptical though her suspicion didn’t show on her face. “Was Roxie able to listen in on the men’s conversations?”

“Yeah, she was.”

“And did she learn anything interesting?”

“They said something about being stuck on this planet and not trusting humans. They didn’t know she could hear them, so they stopped being careful about what they said.”

“And they didn’t say anything more damning than that? Are you sure she told you everything?”

Elias shrugged. “I was surprised she told me anything. She has no reason to trust me.”

“Everyone trusts you. You just have one of those faces.” She leaned back into her chair, her gaze turning distant and thoughtful. “No wonder Roxie has taken all this in stride. We’re not nearly as scary as Sevrin. But it’s not like Sevrin to be this careless.”

“I agree.” Elias scooted to the edge of his seat. “Which is why I can’t help wondering if Sevrin had another reason for wanting Roxie to know what’s going on.”

Morgan’s gaze narrowed and her lips thinned as she considered his theory. “What does Sevrin gain by enlightening a human tattoo artist?”

“Free ink?” When she just stared at him without changing her expression, he asked, “What if she’s not human?”

“Roxie’s not in the notebook. I already checked.”

“That just means she wasn’t a result of the Dirty Dozen’s escapades. She could still be a hybrid.”

“So ask Lor to scan her. We need to figure out why Sevrin is so fascinated with Roxie before we can even consider letting her go.”

Pushing back his chair, Elias stood, but he didn’t immediately leave the office. “Can I at least let her out of the holding cell? She really has been cooperative.”

“Only if you shadow her. I can’t have her wandering into restricted areas and our little tattoo artist strikes me as the type who would have no problem nosing around.”

He agreed with her assessment of Roxie’s nature, but hated the implications for him. “I can’t babysit her indefinitely. I do have other responsibilities.”

“Not anymore.” The corners of her mouth twitched as if she was fighting a smile. “Roxie’s your only assignment until further notice. Find out everything you can about her, favorite color, childhood friends, hobbies, favorite sexual position. Compile a complete background. No detail is irrelevant. We have to figure out why Sevrin wants her, and Roxie likely doesn’t realize what she knows. Understood?”

“Understood.” He tried not to sound as frustrated as he felt. He was good at interrogating certain types of prisoners. That didn’t mean he enjoyed doing it.

“And try not to make it feel like an interrogation. Just get her talking and see where it leads.”

“Got it.” Trying to change Morgan’s mind was always an exercise in futility, so he turned and left without further argument.

His footsteps dragged as he went in search of Lor. First and foremost, they needed to make sure Sevrin hadn’t implanted more than the Rodyte language inside Roxie’s head. Then he’d take her to the mess hall or officers’ lounge. Roxie wasn’t the only one going stir-crazy inside that holding cell.

Lor was in the communal office the Mystic Militia used more like a small lounge. Some of the technology cluttering the small corner desk had been given to them by Morgan, but more of it was obviously Ontarian and he could only guess at its purpose. Elias paused in the doorway, tapping on the open door as he’d done with Morgan.

“What can I do for you?” Lor asked as he looked up from some sort of holographic report.

“Do you have a minute to scan Roxie?”

“What’s the nature of her aliment? Odintar might be a better choice.”