Hathor Legacy: Outcast Page 7

  In the aftermath of the attack, she'd been too drained to do anything but collapse on the couch. But now, with him standing across from her, wearing nothing but a damp towel, it was a different matter.

  His body still moist, his dark hair slicked back, and his tanned skin flushed from the hot shower, her awareness of him was overpowering.

  "I'm not a tea drinker. Got any coffee?" he asked, poking around in the cabinet over the built-in cooker.

  "Might be some instant packs back there somewhere. Are you hungry yet?"

  He shut the cabinet and leaned his elbows against the counter so that they were face-to-face. "Not yet. I've been meaning to tell you. What you did last night--never seen anything like that. How did you know about the guards?"

  Jon's skin smelled like fresh, clean soap. She watched a droplet of water slowly make its way down his muscular arm and disappear. Focus, damn it.

  "They were outside when I was leaving. I knew they were up to something."

  "But how did you know?"

  "It's hard to explain. A simple way to put it is that I was able to read their emotions."

  "Really? How do you do that?"

  "It comes to me as pictures or conversations. It depends. If a target is very agitated, they give off a lot of energy and they're easier to read. Or it can happen if they're very passionate and have very strong emotions."

  Jonathan grinned. "So, you were able to track me because I'm passionate or because I have strong emotions?"

  "Both." She could feel him now. His desire for her was growing, reaching through the barriers she kept putting between them. Flowing under and around them like a rushing river pushing past every obstruction.

  Nadira had never encountered someone without Guardian abilities who was strong enough to overcome her emotional shields. And what was more interesting, he seemed to have no idea he was doing it.

  "You saved my life. That means I'm yours." He took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her wrist. "What are you going to do with me?"

  Could he feel her trembling? She hoped not. That's all she needed right now. If he had any idea how much he was doing to her, he'd be totally impossible. He was so used to women falling over themselves for him. It was going to be hard, but she was determined not to be one of them.

  "Do all Guardians have power like yours?" He continued to glide his fingertips over her skin.

  Gulping, she willed her body to stop responding. It wasn't working. His touch was deceptively light. But combined with the force of his energy, her nerve endings were lighting up all over her body.

  "For the most part, all Guardians can read thoughts and emotions. Some of us have abilities to touch objects and read the energy that clings to them." Her voice faltered, shaking as she watched him come from behind the counter. "All of the descendents of the First Families have some ability…but for most of them it's not strong enough to be developed."

  "So, how can people tell the difference between Guardians and everyone else?"

  His voice was a low growl, his energy surrounding her in a cocoon of heat and the remnants of fresh soap. In her mind a picture materialized of him in the shower, water pouring down on him like a summer rain. Wiping himself down and leaving trails of soap along his arms…and chest…and…

  "We--we have this." Trembling, she held up her left hand to show him the half-moon shaped line in her palm.

  "Did they put that there?"

  "It forms naturally when we've developed our abilities."

  Jonathan approached her. Closing in on her as she sat helpless on the stool, her body aching in anticipation. Instead of touching her again, he braced himself against the counter, his sinewy arms trapping her with no escape.

  Leaning down, he kissed the side of her face, trailing kisses across her cheek. "So tell me, what other abilities do you have?" he asked.

  "I--I don't know what you mean." She closed her eyes as his mouth found hers, his tongue insistent. As his kiss intensified, she fought the urge to touch him and pull him closer. If she let this go on, she'd be lost.

  How could she protect him if she let her physical desires get in the way? Brant and Zina were searching for him. Shielding Jon from them would use all the energy she had left.

  Keeping them from tracking him would require her to connect with him, and create a protective wall around him. It was the only way to keep them from sensing him and dragging him back to be questioned--or worse.

  "Guardians must never become personally involved."

  "Jon," she whispered, fighting to focus so she could get the words out.

  Nimble fingers undid the opening on her shirt and slid underneath the crisp fabric to caress her peaks into hardness. Sliding his hand around her back to support her, he pressed her against him while he shifted his attention to another part of her anatomy. Lazily trailing his hand along her thigh, he found her center and slowly entered, gently teasing her until she melted against him.

  She couldn't keep him safe if she let this go on. Staying detached was the only way she could wield her power without her personal feelings interfering. How could she do her job if she was overcome by her emotions?

  "Jon…we can't…listen to me…"

  "Shhh. Relax. It'll be all right."

  To keep him safe--to do her job--she had to rely on logic and not emotion. He gripped her, molding her to him so close she could feel the vibration of his heart. His rhythm was aligning with hers--beat by beat.

  His energy ensnared her, pulling her in deeper and deeper. It was like being caught in wave after wave of emotion that knocked her off her feet and sent her spinning, unable to determine what was up or down.

  The tumult of emotions was stronger than her ability to reason. Jon's energy engulfed her, turning her body into jelly.

  Continuing his explorations, he squeezed her soft nub between his thumb and forefinger. She clenched, instinctively moving to match his pace.

  "Remember the fate of your mother."

  Brant had made his point by addressing the one wound that had never healed. Attacking the most vulnerable part of her because he knew--no, because Zina knew--where to inflict the most pain.

  In spite of her position as a Guardian, her mother, Minona had allowed her emotions to control her when she'd contracted with Nadira's father. Rather than follow the directives of the Elders, she'd chosen a non-Guardian partner for herself.

  Even that action might've been overlooked if Minona hadn't left Nova City with Nadira and gone into hiding. Driven by her desire to keep her daughter from being forced into the type of life she'd had to accept.

  But Nadira's stronger Sentry energy couldn't be disguised. Minona's cousin, Zina had located them in a seaside town in the North. Untrained, Nadira had no idea how to hide her natural abilities. Making it easy for a seasoned tracker to find them.

  Shuddering, she gripped Jon's arms, digging her fingers into his flesh. His emotions continued to pummel her, breaking through her reason and causing her shields to crumble.

  "Remember the fate of your mother."

  After that day on the beach, she never saw Minona again. She was gone. No one would tell her where.

  Never forgetting the lesson, Nadira learned how to lock down her emotions. Following the example set by the Guardians who'd trained her, she chose to remain detached from her feelings.

  Unable to evade her fate, Nadira accepted it. Grudgingly obeying the directives, and trying to forget the destruction of her family.

  "Remember the fate of your mother."

  If Zina decided to track Jon, it would only be a matter of time before she found him here. Leaving Hathor on the shuttle wouldn't be an option. Once Novacorp authorized it, he would be taken before he stepped on board.

  Gritting her teeth, Nadira summoned every bit of energy she had left. She gently placed her hands on either side of Jon's face, forcing him to look at her.

  "Jonathan. Please…we have to stop this."

  Staring at her blankly, like he was in a daze, it took a
moment for him to focus.

  "What is it? Did I hurt you?"

  "No…it's…it's not right. We can't do--"

  "Because I'm not from Hathor or descended from the First Family or whatever the hell that is?" he asked, dropping his hands to his sides.

  "Why are you angry?" Wanting to put more space between them, Nadira nudged him. But it was like trying to move a boulder. "Not being from Hathor has nothing to do with it."

  "Look, I don't like mixed signals."

  "Mixed signals? Damn it, Jon. I have a job to do. I'm not someone you just met at a pick-up club." Another nudge, her hands pressed against his hard abdomen. Same result, nothing.

  "So you think I want to bed every woman I meet?"

  "Well, don't you?" Folding her arms across her chest, she waited for a response.

  Jon glared at her, gripping his towel which, by now, was barely hanging from his waist. His energy had changed all right, but his arousal hadn't dissipated. In fact, it felt even stronger than before. Maybe arguing with him was the wrong approach.

  "Jonathan, I should've told you…when you were in the shower, I talked to Brant. They want to bring you back for questioning. I don't know why."

  "But I don't know anything about the robbery."

  "I know that. Something's going on that doesn't feel right. I need time to figure it out. But in the meantime, there's only one way to stop them from finding you. I have to use my abilities to shield you."

  "Shield me? Look, I'm grateful for what you did for me last night. But I can take care of myself."

  "You don't understand what they're capable of."

  "If you're so good at tracking people, why can't you find Ilana and my father?"

  "Some people can't be tracked as easily. It's almost impossible if they're skilled at putting up emotional shields, or they're incapacitated…or they're dead."

  Jonathan staggered back and ran his hands through his slick hair. "No. He can't be dead. There has to be another reason."

  Should she tell him about the remains? But what if Brant had only said that to get Jonathan to come in?

  If she told him, and it wasn't true…no, she had to be sure first. She couldn't take the chance that Jonathan would do something to put himself in danger.

  "Jon, do you know Mining Security Chief Mantee?"

  "Sure. She's my father's second-in-command. She tried to talk me out of looking for him."

  "Did she say why?"

  "She said I was getting in the way." The scowl on Jonathan's face revealed more about their conversation than he was telling her. "Why do you want to know?"

  "Her name came up when I talked to Brant." So, Mantee hadn't wanted him involved. She might've just been following procedure, or perhaps there was another reason for discouraging him. "I'm going to the detention building to check on the guards. They might be willing to talk."

  "I'll come with you."

  "No. It's best you stay here until I return," she said.

  "Is there something you're not telling me?" His grey eyes were like ice. "Something else about your talk with Brant?"

  If she told him, he'd run off and do something he shouldn't. She was sure of it. It wouldn't matter if he didn't have a plan. Jonathan ran on passion and impulse. That combination could be dangerous on Hathor. "No, there's nothing else. I'd better go. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  *****

  Detention was only minutes away from the Administration building, but it was worlds away in appearance. There were no shimmering glass towers or bustling crowds of company personnel filling the streets.

  Instead, there was one main entrance with security guards and a fence that could not be seen, but would be felt if someone tried to get through without authorization.

  The detention area itself was actually a series of rooms and corridors beneath the city. It was a maze of spaces for processing and transporting offenders off-world when they were sentenced to labor in the mines.

  After Nadira identified herself at the entrance, she headed to the security chief's office. Her discomfort rising as she walked past two additional security checkpoints.

  Normally she tried to stay away from this place and the emotions that ran through it.

  If she stayed here too long, the fear, anxiety and anger of those who had been detained would overwhelm her own feelings. Leaving her to experience them as though they were her own.

  When she got to the security office, she identified herself and was admitted right away. Security Chief Duval led Nadira to a private meeting room.

  "Guardian, I was surprised when they told me you were here." She waited for Nadira to sit first. "To what do I owe this visit?"

  "You have two men who were involved in the attack at the Emerald Club--"

  "Such an attack in the Palatine district is reprehensible, Guardian. The punishment will be most severe," Duval said, as she flicked her black shoulder-length hair away from her face.

  "Yes, I know. But have they been questioned yet?"

  The Chief gave her a quizzical look. "Questioned? They were processed and sent away a few hours ago."

  "But the men were to be questioned by the Guardians."

  "Yes, I know. I saw your request logged in the officer's report. But this morning the Sentry Leader contacted me with new instructions."

  "What did he say?" Nadira asked.

  "He gave authorization them to be processed. They are on their way to a mining colony. I agreed with him that lifetime hard labor was appropriate."

  "Chief, has the Sentry Leader ever done this before?"

  "Actually, this was the first time. But I didn't think it was my place to question him."

  Of course she wouldn't have. Brant's request would've carried much more weight because of his position.

  Not telling Jonathan about the remains at the mine had been the right call. They could've used Brandon's DNA profile to confirm his identity within minutes. The story had to be a lie to lure Jon in.

  Reading other Guardians was difficult, though not exactly forbidden. She could take a chance and try to discover Brant's true motives. But the catch was that by doing so, she'd be vulnerable to him doing the same thing to her.

  No, she couldn't take that risk. The only way to keep Jon's location secret was to build a wall of energy around them that no other Guardian could penetrate. With her stronger Sentry abilities, it would be easy. But maintaining it wouldn't be.

  To create the shield, she'd have to do the one thing she'd been dreading: form an energetic connection with Jonathan.

  A connection that might end up becoming permanent.

  *****

  After she left the Detention area Nadira took a transport back to the Palatine district. Even with the large number of ground transports clogging the traffic lanes, she was able to get to the Emerald Club within minutes.

  When she entered the lobby, Mr. Renard rushed over to her.

  "Guardian! How is Mr. Keel? I have his bag here. I didn't know where to send it. Have you any word on why they attacked him? This has been most upsetting. We pride ourselves on providing safety and security for our clientele. We--"

  Nadira stopped him with a wave of her hand. "Mr. Keel is recovering very well. The attackers have been dealt with."

  "Yes, of course they have, Guardian. How may I help you?" he asked.

  "Mr. Keel was expecting a guest to join him. Has anyone left a message or tried to check in?"

  Renard frowned. "Ah, not that I can recall. But it's been so alarming in the past few hours what with security in and out. What is the name again?"

  She was about to say, Ilana Travac when she remembered the alias. "It's Cintra Ansi."

  "One moment." He walked back to his desk to check the hotel records. Images materialized on the surface as he tapped a short, stubby finger against the desktop. Finally he looked up. "We have no record of her, however, there was a message received for Mr. Keel."

  Nadira felt her heart jump in her chest. "Who left it?"

 
"It is marked confidential. There's only a written message. I can't access it with the encryption, you understand." He managed a weak smile. "I wish I could assist you."

  She walked over and nudged him to the side. He gasped as she pressed her hand against the glass and identified herself to the system.

  "You're overriding security protocols!"

  Nadira gave him a look and he backed away from her, his hands nervously clasped in front of him. Waiting for his permission would only waste more time. Right now she didn't know what she was dealing with.

  Encrypted symbols flashed on the screen. Then a request: "Identify." She pressed her palm against the surface and waited for the approval. It displayed: "Approved." Then, "Unlock?" She indicated, "Yes."

  The screen went blank, then displayed four words: "Message read and deleted."

  "Deleted?" Nadira swiped her fingers across the desktop, paging through the displays. She knew she hadn't deleted the message. It had been there a moment ago.

  "This is most unusual," Mr. Renard gasped.

  "Who deleted it?" she asked. There was no response, evidently it wasn't voice activated. The message had just been there and now it wasn't. What had happened in the past few seconds?

  There had to be a way to find out. Growing annoyed she went through more screens, going deeper into the system until it displayed who had accessed the message.

  She stopped, her hand poised over the glass as the information she'd been searching for flashed on the screen. It read: "Message accessed, read and deleted by Jonathan Keel."

  11 Confined

  Jonathan paced the length of Nadira's small apartment. From the front door to the back bedroom was a little over 10 meters. Hell, he had more space than that in his bedroom back on Astarte.

  At least he'd found his boots halfway under the bed. But these prickly clothes were uncomfortable as hell. The t-shirt rubbed him raw and the pants irritated him in all the wrong places.

  After about 10 minutes he'd been ready to strip and fling the garments into the nearest recycler. How the hell did miners wear these things?

  Jon dropped down on the couch. Reaching underneath his shirt, he caught himself before he scratched the tender skin surrounding the graft. The washed-out yellow patch on his chest was a reminder of how close he'd come to being killed. Even if it never blended in to match his skin, he wasn't going to worry about it. Being burned by a stunner blast was better than being killed by one.