“No surprise,” Keono muttered. “Gregory’s a lazy prick and it doesn’t take an army to guard vegetables.” He sounded alert, annoyed, but his features remained blank.
“You play solitaire for a while, but time is passing so damn slowly.”
“Then I remember it’s Saturday night.” He grinned. “Pussy should be on its way.”
“Something catches your eye, and you look down the hallway beyond your table. Two ambassadors approach. One has long black hair, the other bright red.”
“The redhead has great tits. Wonder if they’re real.”
At least he was consistent. Winter took a step closer to the guard. “You ask about Crystal and Vanessa, and the redhead gives you some lame excuse.”
“She’s younger than Crystal and prettier than Vanessa. This might not be so bad.”
Winter shuddered. Hearing the details of what he was imagining was bad enough. Thank God she didn’t have to do the things he described. With subtle commands and patient questions, she guided him through the fantasy. By the time she eased from his mind, she craved a long, hot shower.
Mick helped her arrange Keono at the card table where he’d awaken within an hour, feeling happy and satisfied.
“Did Jocelyn find Aric?” Winter stashed everything back inside her clutch and stretched her back.
“She has a patient more or less awake in there, but he’s pretty groggy.”
“He hasn’t told her his name?”
“He hasn’t said anything.”
Winter understood the implication. Had prolonged stasis scrambled his brain? “Does he look like Aric’s image?”
“It’s hard to tell.”
His evasiveness was starting to piss her off. Rather than attempt to pry any more information out of Mick, she motioned toward Gregory. Mick grabbed him under the arms and Winter grabbed his legs. He was heavy. It was a good thing they weren’t going far.
Hundreds of horizontal stasis tubes were lined up in neat rows, long, narrow aisles in between. Why were the Gathosians keeping all of these people in a living limbo? An infuriating possibility took shape within her mind. Ulrick was not the only one being motivated by threats and intimidation.
“His vital signs are stable, but he’s really out of it,” Jocelyn said as they approached.
Winter glanced at the patient and gasped. His face was a mass of bruises, one eye swollen shut. “He’s been in stasis for years. Why haven’t these wounds healed?”
“Stasis completely arrests all bodily functions. It’s like being frozen in time.” The sleek alloy tube had been retracted, six telescoping sections sliding in on themselves. Jocelyn helped the patient scoot to the very end of the padded table and they placed Gregory on the section of the table the patient had just vacated.
“I’ll find a wheelchair,” Mick volunteered. “It’s obvious he’s not walking out of here.”
Jocelyn continued to monitor the patient and attempted to engage his mind, but he stared straight ahead, eyes glazed, features slack.
Winter stood to one side, anxiety mounting with each passing moment. This was not how it was supposed to be. Even if this was Aric, she wasn’t sure she’d want Ulrick to know.
Mick returned with a wheelchair and they continued in tense silence, each thinking what they weren’t willing to say. This had all been a waste of time. They dressed the patient in Gregory’s uniform and put the patient’s clothes on Gregory. Then they lowered the patient into the wheelchair and enclosed Gregory in the stasis tube. Jocelyn activated the unit and the switch was complete.
With nothing to connect Gregory’s disappearance with the unnamed patient, it was unlikely they would search for the missing guard in the stasis tubes. Even if they did, Aric would be long gone before they unraveled the situation.
Jocelyn contacted Saroji as soon as they were safely away from the medical center. She explained about the unexpected complication and asked for permission to bring the patient to their clinic. After checking with her brother, Saroji approved the request.
They arrived a short time later and Saroji was waiting with a trauma team. Winter followed in their wake, trying not to feel useless.
Seeing Jocelyn in her element gave Winter a completely different opinion of the doctor. She’d held her own as a spy, but this was where Jocelyn belonged. She directed her team with calm authority and made decisions without pause.
The medical scans soon revealed the cause of the patient’s stupor. The beating had left him with a massive, deep concussion.
“There are signs of hemorrhaging, but the bleeding has stopped. Controlling the swelling is our next obstacle. It could be several days before there is any change. Have Mick take you home. I’ll contact you as soon as I know anything new.”
“Is he Aric Brant?”
Jocelyn nodded, her expression grim. “I scanned his DNA. You might want to see if he survives before you tell Ulrick.”
That had been her first reaction as well, but as she sat on the skimmer, headed back to the embassy, she had time to consider the alternatives. Ulrick had a right to know the truth. If his beloved brother was about to die, he’d want the opportunity to say good-bye.
* * * * *
Ulrick stared down into Aric’s face as grief and guilt buffeted him from opposite sides. “Can you save him?” The doctor was too damn young. Where was someone with some experience?
“I believe he’ll survive,” the doctor told him. “The question now is one of functionality. His injuries are extensive.”
“Would it have been better to leave him in stasis?”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference to his recovery. Stasis simply postponed what he’s going through now.”
He clenched his fists, needing to hit something, needing an outlet for these overwhelming emotions. “What can I do to help him?” He hated feeling this helpless.
“There is not much any of us can do. It’s up to Aric.”
“Can he hear me? Does he know I’m here?”
“Stimulation at this point would be counterproductive to his recovery. He needs rest, and calm. I do have one alternative that you might consider.”
“What?”
“Do you believe in mystic healing? I have access to certain personnel who—”
“As if Ra’jen would lift a finger to help me.”
“I wasn’t referring to General Noirte, but the person I have in mind is also Pryett.”
“Do you trust them?”
“Implicitly.”
“Then you have my permission.”
“I must also ask for your discretion. As with General Noirte, the full scope of this person’s abilities is not widely known.”
“If anyone learns that Aric is free, we’re both dead. I won’t say a word to anyone.”
The doctor nodded and motioned toward the door. “You might want to take a few minutes and visit the embassy. Winter put her life on the line to make this happen, and she’s terrified you’ll blame her for Aric’s injuries.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Emotions are seldom logical. She must love you very much.”
She was right, and the realization left him shaken. “You’ll let me know the moment there’s a change?”
“Of course.”
Winter was sequestered in Autumn’s office when Ulrick arrived at the embassy. Celinna told him to wait, and she went to see if they were willing to be interrupted. If she told him they weren’t, he’d just barge in on them. He needed to see Winter, to kiss her and tell her how grateful he was for this selfless gift.
He paced beside the massive marble fireplace as he waited for his mate. Each time they made love, he felt the primal craving that only came with a permanent bond. He
hadn’t wanted to intimidate her, hadn’t been sure he was ready to accept it himself. But she obviously loved him, and he was tired of downplaying what he felt for her.
When Winter appeared a few minutes later, Autumn was at her side. He chuckled. Did they honestly fear he would be angry with Winter? He rushed to Winter and swept her into his arms, banishing her uncertainty with one passionate kiss.
“Weren’t you supposed to give me a surprise today?”
She laughed, her breath warm and sweet against his lips. “You weren’t surprised when you arrived at the clinic?”
“Not really. You’re brave and selfless, and you want me to be happy. This was an obvious choice.”
“I’ll try harder next time.”
He growled and kissed her again, savoring the heat and softness of her willing mouth. “There better not be a next time. I will not have you putting yourself in danger for me.”
“Could we speak in my office?” Autumn asked from behind him. He’d honestly forgotten she was standing there.
“I suppose, though I’m rather anxious to take Winter upstairs.”
“This won’t take long, I promise.”
He wrapped his arm around Winter’s waist, not willing to be separated from her for even a moment. Autumn led them into her office and they sat on a small sofa facing her chair.
“How is your brother?” Autumn asked. “He was stable when Winter left, but we haven’t been updated in quite a while.”
“The doctor’s done everything she can, but she asked my permission to allow a Pryett to treat him.”
Autumn nodded. “I was treated by a Pryett not long ago. Their abilities are extraordinary. I’m sure your brother will make a full recovery.”
“I’m cautiously optimistic.” With a relieved sigh, he pushed Aric to the back of his mind. “Did you have anything to do with Winter’s adventure today?”
Autumn smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. “It’s possible. Making you happy was obviously Winter’s primary motivation for her—adventure.”
“Meaning she had a secondary motivation?”
“It’s Winter’s hope that you’ll be willing to assist us from time to time if your brother’s life is not endangered by your actions.”
He looked at Winter and she offered him an enigmatic smile. The brainwave modifier should have been his first clue that there was more than pleasure being exchanged at this embassy. “How many of your girls are spies, Mistress Autumn?”
“Just a few very special ones.”
“Does Noirte head the Resistance, or does this reach further than that? Do you have off-world support for this little rebellion?”
Autumn shrugged. “The less you know about the specifics, the safer you’ll be.”
He scoffed. “No, the less I know about the Resistance the safer you’ll be.”
Winter squeezed his knee, drawing his attention away from the madam. “You don’t mean that. You’d never turn us in.”
He sighed. “It’s been so long since I was free to choose what I wanted. I’ve almost forgotten how.”
“We need the location of the chemist,” Autumn said without further ado.
“Evard Keenan is the most closely guarded person on this planet. You’ll never get near him.”
“Do you know where he’s being held?” Autumn persisted.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s guarded by a team of eight—hand-selected by Inwatta herself. Even I don’t have access to him.”
“If you give us his location and everything you know about his routine, we’ll figure out the rest.”
He looked at Winter then back at Autumn. They couldn’t be serious. “You’ll get yourselves killed.”
“It’s a risk we’re willing to take,” Winter told him. “This isn’t life. It’s survival. I’d rather die trying to win back my freedom than fade away as a Gathosian slave.”
“You will have nothing to do with this.” He turned to Autumn and glared. “That’s my condition. If I give you Evard’s location and detail his routine, Winter will not be used for the rescue mission.”
“Agreed. For that one mission, Winter is free from all obligations to the Resistance.”
Autumn’s phrasing struck a dissonant chord with him. He looked at Winter, worry creasing his brow. “Is she making you take these missions? What did she mean by obligation?”
“She isn’t making me do anything,” Winter assured him.
“It was an unfortunate choice in words,” Autumn agreed. “Everyone who serves the Resistance does so willingly.”
He looked at Winter and asked again, “Do I have your promise you’ll sit this one out?”
“Can I offer indirect support?”
Autumn laughed. “She’s my most enthusiastic agent. You won’t keep her sidelined for long.”
“Give me your promise or I’m out of here.”
Winter leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I promise.”
“He’s in the basement of the Pentagon.”
“The Pentagon is deserted.” Autumn moved to her desk and slipped into the tall-backed chair.
“That’s what they want everyone to think.”
“Can you be more specific? The Pentagon is mammoth.”
“I’m not supposed to know that much, but I’ve heard the location too often to doubt the validity of the information.” He went on to detail Evard’s routine, but he refused to let Autumn document the facts in any way. “I’ll answer questions as they arise, but I really don’t know more than I’ve told you.”
“This is far more than we had yesterday.”
“Can I go fuck my wife now?” he asked with a brazen smile.
Autumn laughed, but Winter looked at him, clearly shocked by the title. “Wife?”
He drew her to her feet and led her from Autumn’s office. “Are you going to pretend you haven’t felt the difference each time I’m inside you?”
“I’ve never been with a Valtorian before.” Her innocent tone wasn’t quite convincing. “How do I know you’re not all this intense?”
He growled and pushed her up against the nearest wall. “You are mine, and mine alone. Do you understand me?”
Undaunted by his aggression, she smiled into his eyes. “I am yours—and you are mine. Do you understand me?” He leaned down, meaning to demonstrate how well he understood. She turned her head at the last moment and his lips landed in her hair. “You are not fucking me in the lobby. Take me upstairs.”
That was one command he was happy to obey.
About the Author
When my parents realized I had an aptitude for storytelling—okay, even at an early age I was a consummate liar—they encouraged me to find constructive ways to put all that “creativity” to use. I wrote my first novel when I was in junior high school. It was a typical teenage girl’s fantasy about being kidnapped by a sexy rock star, finding out he was really a misunderstood millionaire’s son, and living happily ever after with the reformed rebel. Check out
A Taste of Twilight
if you’re curious to see what became of the story.