Hathor Legacy: Outcast Read online

  Nadira turned her attention to the guard that Jon had pushed away. The man reached under his uniform jacket. She directed a blast of energy towards him. Clutching his chest, he screamed, then fell to his knees.

  Careful to shield herself from the energy rebound, she sent out another blast. He fell down on the floor, still trembling. Then he groaned and passed out, his mouth open.

  Another weapon discharge filled the air with sparks, the whine setting her teeth on edge. Jonathan fell to the floor. A large, dark patch on his sleeve was hissing and smoking. The guard stood over him, pointing his weapon at Jon's chest.

  Nadira flung a short blast of energy towards the attacker. He screamed, his arms out flung. His weapon flew up in the air and crashed through a glass table across the room. In her haste she hadn't shielded herself and the rebound of the guard's energy hit her like a punch in the stomach. Breathless, she fell to her knees.

  The man landed across Jonathan's legs in a heap. She crawled over and pushed at him with her fingertips. In reaction, he moaned before he rolled over on his side and vomited. Nadira struggled to pull Jonathan away from him.

  She dropped down and pulled Jon across her lap. His breath was shallow and ragged, his eyes unfocused. The hole in his sleeve was still smoking and she could smell burning flesh.

  Gritting her teeth, she pulled back his jacket and lifted up his shirt. The blast had seared a circle of skin below his left shoulder, leaving it burned and oozing.

  Jonathan opened his eyes wide, studying her face. Then without a word he went limp, his head rolling over to the side.

  "Jonathan!" She cradled his body, burying her face against him. Let him be all right.

  She'd been charged with protecting him. And she'd failed.

  9 Taken In

  Hours later Nadira was sprawled across her couch. Her clothes were in a crumpled heap on the floor. After arriving, she'd been too tired to put them away properly.

  Replaying the events at the hotel in her mind, she still couldn't believe she was capable of such destruction. The knowledge was both exciting and frightening. Through all of her development and training with Zina, the depth of her abilities had never been revealed.

  Nadira heard a noise from her bedroom. Sitting up was agony. Lifting herself up on rubbery legs, she waited for the room to stop spinning. It could be hours or days before she regained her full strength. Until then, it was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other.

  Jonathan was in her bed, the covers up to his waist. The medi-evac team had managed to apply regenerating skin to the burns on his arm and chest. Other than the itching he'd have to endure while the new skin grafted onto his own, he was going to be fine. His clothes were the only real casualty. What hadn't been torn in the struggle had been ripped away by the medics.

  "What…what happened? He swallowed. "I feel like I've been hit by a transport."

  Nadira sat on the edge of the bed. "You were hit with a blast from a stunner. It uses energy to incapacitate, like using an electrical current. They use larger versions in the mines."

  Struggling to sit up, he shifted himself against the pillows. "They're used for mining Crysallis."

  "You've been inside the mines?"

  He nodded. "With my father."

  Jon slowly lifted the covers and examined himself. "Where are my clothes?" he asked.

  "The medics removed them. Don't worry, you were covered when they brought you here."

  "Where's 'here?'"

  Nadira paused a moment before answering. Mr. Renard at the Emerald Club had suggested taking him to another suite. She hadn't trusted it. Instead she had the medics bring him to a place where no one would be looking for him.

  "You're at my apartment. I thought it would be safer," she replied.

  Were those men real security guards?" he asked.

  "I doubt it. They've been taken to detention to be questioned. Don't think about it right now. I'll let you get back to sleep."

  "Nadira?"

  "Yes?"

  "Don't leave yet," he whispered, reaching out to her.

  As a Guardian she was always supposed to stay detached. But following procedure had never been her strong suit--something else she'd inherited from her mother, Minona.

  Nadira sighed and clasped his hand, letting his fingers intertwine with her own. She felt a gentle tug and she eased herself down next to him.

  "You can get under the covers you know."

  "This is fine. Get some rest."

  She remained there and watched him as he fell asleep. Not long after, she gave in to exhaustion and drifted off.

  *****

  When Jonathan woke up the room was dark. For a moment he thought he was back home in his own bed. No, this wasn't his bedroom. He was on Hathor. Now he remembered. He'd been hit by a stunner blast. And Nadira had brought him here.

  During the fight he'd held up his arm to shield himself from the blast. Running his hand over the wound he felt--what the hell? A strip of rough, knitted fabric was attached to his skin. How did this get on him? Whatever the thing was, he had to get it off. Ah, there it was. He caught an edge of the fabric between his thumb and index finger and pulled.

  "Damn!" he roared.

  "Lights up 70%," Nadira called out.

  "What is this thing? It hurts like hell."

  "It's regenerating skin. Stop picking at it."

  He held out his arm for her inspection, wincing as she examined the graft.

  "The medics said it'll be completely attached in a couple of days. What about your chest?"

  "My chest?"

  Nadira leaned across him. With a light touch she probed the small, yellow patch below his collarbone. Though he couldn't feel anything through the fake skin, the proximity of her body next to his was enough to take his mind off the pain.

  She was wearing a tank top. Her full, golden brown breasts were straining against the creamy knitted fabric, presenting him with a very tantalizing view of her cleavage.

  "So, how does it look?" Unable to resist, he glided his hands over her back. Keeping his gaze fixed on her, he lifted himself up, opening his lips in anticipation of meeting hers and--

  "That's enough of that, Mr. Keel." With a wry smile, she eased herself out of his grasp and scooted back to the other side of the bed.

  "Trust me, there can never be enough of that." He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'd better get cleaned up."

  "Let me get you something to put on."

  Nadira eased off the bed and padded over to a set of shelves in a corner of the room. There was little more than a strip of lace covering her bottom, which was just fine because it gave him a very delicious view of her firm hips.

  Searching through the rows of neatly folded clothing, she pulled out a light grey shirt.

  "That won't fit me," he said.

  "I know. It's for me." She smiled as she slipped it on and secured the front.

  Damn. She was the most exasperating woman he'd ever met.

  Returning with pants and a t-shirt, she held them out. "I know this isn't what you're used to. You can wear these until we get your things from the hotel," she said.

  A quick glance at them and he could tell they were the same grey, knitted underalls that miners wore under their work gear. Stretchy enough to fit a variety of body types, they could also be scratchy as hell.

  "Thanks." He pulled back the covers and swung his legs out. Stretching, he came to his feet. The stone floor was cold. Maybe his boots were around here someplace.

  "I'll give you some privacy." Nadira took a step back and banged against the wall, missing the doorway by several centimeters

  "It's not like we're strangers," he said, amused at her efforts to keep eye contact with him. "Besides, you saw everything when they brought me in last night. Didn't you?"

  Her eyes darted to a lower part of his anatomy, then back up again. "I wasn't looking."

  "I'm sure you were." He grinned as he grabbed the pants and shook them out.


  Rolling her eyes, she left the room. A moment later he heard footsteps, followed by a crash.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "I forgot I left my clothes on the floor. I'm fine!" she snapped.

  Chuckling to himself, he pulled on the pants and cinched the drawstring. Did these belong to a regular companion of hers, or someone she was contracted with? Did Guardians go into contracted relationships?

  Based on the lack of personal effects in her bedroom, he didn't see any evidence of a partner. Other than the bed, table and built-in shelves, there wasn't much else in the room. It looked barely lived in.

  When he entered the living area, the sun was shining brightly through a row of large windows. From the looks of things outside, they were in a residential district. Across the street was a large stone building with windows like Nadira's.

  Transports rumbled by, though there weren't as many as he'd seen on the main boulevards.

  The small but comfortable living area opened up into a dining space with a counter and two seats. Nadira was sitting on one of the stools, her legs dangling.

  "I don't have a lot on hand for breakfast, so if you want something more, I'll order it," she said.

  "No problem."

  Though it was neat and clean, the apartment showed signs of wear. Instead of shiny silver, the countertop was dull and scratched. Even the cooker looked like it'd seen better days.

  "Shower's over there." She motioned to a half-open pocket door to her right.

  He slid the door back and looked inside. It was a long, narrow space lined with grey and white marble walls and a shower enclosure at the end. Next to the shower sat the sink and toilet, crammed next to each other like an afterthought.

  Utilitarian design at its best: clean, efficient and exceptionally boring. Maybe this apartment building had originally been designed to house miners. It wasn't the type of place he expected a Guardian to live in.

  "Looks cozy. I guess you don't share it with anyone," he said

  "No."

  "No family?"

  Her face stiffened. "Not anymore."

  "Oh. Sorry." What was her story? He wanted to ask, but the scowl on her face made him think better of it.

  "You can take your shower now," she said.

  "Sure you don't want to go first?"

  "I'll wait. I have something to do." Stone-faced, she folded her arms across her chest.

  "Okay." For some reason she was annoyed with him. No doubt it wouldn't be the last time.

  *****

  While Jon was in the shower, Nadira picked up her tablet and settled herself on the couch. The attack had to be involved with the theft from the mine. If she could look at the mine security report, it might give her a clue about who sent the men. Nadira tapped the screen with her stylus.

  The clear glass displayed her location and the temperature. 25 degrees Celsius was typical this time of year in the climate-controlled environs of Nova City.

  After 45 minutes of searching through the Demeter mine records, she couldn't find any mention of the robbery. Instead of a detailed report on the incident, she found endless records about the number of crystals mined, personnel hired and even orders of food and machinery. But not one mention of the theft.

  There had to be a mistake. She aborted the search and contacted Brant. He answered her right away, which was unusual since he normally kept her waiting.

  "Nadira," he said, his jowly face filling the screen. "I was informed of the incident at the Emerald Club last night. Were you harmed?"

  "No, Sentry Leader, I was not. I have a question--"

  "An armed attack on a citizen--a CEO's son no less--in the Palatine district is unthinkable. The attackers will be severely punished."

  Impatient to ask her question, she interrupted him. "I've been investigating the robbery on Demeter. The security reports about the incident no longer exist. Do you know why?" she asked.

  There was silence for a moment. Brant cleared his throat before responding. "Why are you searching? You already know as much as you need to."

  As much as she needed to? Was he serious? "It's my responsibility to know. How can I do my job if I don't have all the facts?"

  "Have you located Ilana Travac?"

  "Where's the report?" she asked, her hands gripping the sides of the tablet. "You haven't answered my question, Sentry Leader."

  Brant shifted in his chair. "Those records have been locked, Nadira."

  "Guardians have access to all security records, or have you forgotten?" She didn't care if she insulted him. "You have no right to restrict me from seeing that report."

  "I have every right. Your only responsibility is to follow orders," he barked.

  Nadira gritted her teeth, willing herself not to respond to his dismissive tone. If she gripped her tablet any harder, it might break in two.

  "I am a Sentry--a real one." She let that sink in before she continued, "I have a job to do. Give me access to the information."

  By now Brant's putty-colored face was flushed with red. His cheeks puffed and his bushy brows were lifted up like two half-moons. She hadn't planned to use the information Zina had given her about his title of "Sentry Leader" being purely honorary. But she'd had about enough of his attitude. Jonathan could've been killed last night. She wasn't in the mood for bureaucratic nonsense.

  "How dare you! I am the leader here, not you. I will give the orders!"

  "Jonathan Keel was attacked and his father is missing. Don't you think there's a connection?"

  Brant opened his mouth as if to reply, then he froze. She heard talking in the background, but couldn't make what was being said.

  "Demeter Mine Security Chief Catherine Mantee requested that we refrain from further investigations into the whereabouts of Brandon Keel."

  "Why? He's still missing, isn't he?"

  "Chief Mantee informed us that remains were found last night in the mine. It has not been confirmed, but CEO Keel should be presumed dead."

  Nadira gasped. Jon's father was dead? He was so sure his father left Demeter before the explosion. "If the remains were found last night, why hasn't it been confirmed yet?"

  "You were there last night when the officers arrived. But their report does not include what happened to Keel."

  "Must be an oversight." As she'd requested, the officers hadn't added Jon's location to their report. But that wasn't a fact she was going to share with Brant.

  "There is no record of Jonathan Keel being admitted at the medi-evac. And he is not at his hotel."

  "I don't know where he is," she lied. "Why are you looking for him?"

  "Brandon Keel had ownership in the mine. If he's dead, his son is his only heir. He must be located as soon as possible so that proper company procedures can be followed." Brant's words tumbled out like he was reciting a script he'd been programmed to say.

  "But if he's expected to take up management of the mine, he should return to Astarte. I repeat, why are you looking for him?"

  "If you know where he is, you must divulge the information or you will be in violation."

  "You didn't answer my question."

  She heard more talking in the background. This time she recognized the voice. It was Zina.

  "He had a relationship with the criminal, Ilana Travac. And we suspect his father was complicit in the robbery. If you are shielding him from us, you will be in direct violation and we'll bring you before the Elders."

  "Travac deceived him. Jonathan had nothing to do with it."

  "As I suspected, you have allowed yourself to be taken in by him. Guardians must never become personally involved. You are well aware of the ramifications of such an action. If not, then remember the fate of your mother."

  Nadira almost dropped the tablet. Those words didn't come from Brant, they came from Zina. Her mentor had never forgiven Minona for rejecting her duty as a Guardian. And she was using the Sentry Leader to deliver that message.

  "If you want him, find him yourself." Nadira
disconnected.

  There was something more going on, something that went deeper than the robbery. And now Jonathan was at the center of it.

  10 On the Edge

  "Guardians must never become personally involved."

  The Sentry Leader's words continued to ring in Nadira's ears as she drained the last of her tea and slammed the cup on the counter. How dare Brant lecture her on how to do her job. But it surprised her that Zina would put words into his mouth. What did she have to gain from forcing Jonathan to submit to more questioning?

  Unfortunately if Zina took charge of it, the session would be closer to an interrogation. When it came to getting the truth from suspects, Zina's skills were unsurpassed. Though the methods she used were questionable. Forcing your way into someone's mind was no different than forcing yourself into their body.

  It was only to be done in extreme cases and when Novacorp sanctioned it. But the robbery on Demeter was the first major theft on that satellite. Company executives would authorize any action to insure the thieves were caught--even if it meant using force on a CEO's son.

  She grabbed the teapot and poured hot water into her cup. After crushing a handful of leaves between her fingers, she sprinkled them into a small, metal strainer. One of her pleasures was the make tea this way, as she'd seen it done when she was a child in the North. It took more time, but the flavor was worth the work.

  Bobbing the silver strainer in the steaming water, she closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet, citrus scent. An image of the seashore came to her mind, and her mother's smile. Her brown eyes glistening, as she beckoned Nadira to come over to the water's edge. Minona's pink and gold dress flowing in the sea breeze, fluttering like the feathery wings of a bird.

  Come to the edge, Nadira. Come to the edge…

  The bathroom door slid back and Jon sauntered out, followed by a cloud of steam. He secured the towel around his waist as he joined Nadira at the counter. "That smells great."

  Unable to take her eyes off of him, she took a deep swallow before answering. "I'll make you a cup."