Fallen Star (16 page)

Roxie fisted her hands, squeezing until her
nails bit into her palms. If Flynn didn’t shut the hell up, there
was no way she’d maintain her cool. She stood so fast her stool
flew into the privacy curtain. “I forgot my water bottle.”

Nazerel caught her upper arm as she tried to
brush past him. “Why are you angry?” His gaze drilled into hers.
His long fingers easily prevented her retreat, yet the force
stopped just short of pain.

“I’m not a fool.” She met his stare with
calm annoyance. “I don’t need to understand his words to read his
expression. He’s being crude and I don’t like it.”

After acknowledging her complaint with a
single nod, he looked at Flynn and switched to their language.
“Enough. It’s not wise to upset a woman then give her a sharp
object to use on you.”

Flynn chuckled, but his demeanor changed,
becoming more respectful. “Tell her I’m sorry, even though I’m not.
If she were willing, I would—”

“She’s not, so your desires are irrelevant.”
Nazerel turned back to her and switched back to English. “Flynn
apologizes for his rudeness. He finds your beauty distracting, but
that is no excuse for his behavior.”

She eased her arm out of Nazerel’s grasp and
retrieved her stool from the curtain. Then she grabbed her sketch
pad off a nearby counter and returned to her seat. “What sort of
tattoo would Flynn like?”

The specificity in the question made Nazerel
smile. “He would like a sleeve similar to the one you did for
Micorian.”

“Micorian?” What an odd name.

“Sorry. Mico. We have been encouraged to
shorten our names so they sound more American. I find myself
resisting the concept.”

“Is that why you’re Nazerel rather than
Naz?”

“Exactly.” His smile was almost playful. On
the rare occasions when he wasn’t scowling, he actually had a
certain charm.

“Speaking of Mico, he skipped his last
appointment as well. Do you know when he’ll return so I can finish
his sleeve?”

“Recent developments are keeping my men
busier than usual.”

“
Your
men?” She allowed a touch of
challenge to shape her words. “I thought you guys work for
Sevrin.”

“The others work for me. I work for Sevrin.
And you were hired for your talent not your curiosity.”

The leer returned to Flynn’s gaze. “Maybe if
we indulge her curiosity, Sevrin will let us take her with us.”

Nazerel shot him a warning glare. “You
aren’t supposed to understand English.”

“She has no idea what I’m saying.”

Take her with them? Where were they going?
And how long before they left? She wasn’t even sure if this was
good news or bad.

Despite the questions spinning through her
head, she opened her sketch pad and drew the outline of an arm,
then continued as if they hadn’t spoken. “Mico’s sleeve is pretty
abstract. Random images surrounded by a tribal influenced
background. Is that what Flynn has in mind?”

“Actually there was one particular image he
wants to build upon,” Nazerel told her.

“Which one?”

“Near Mico’s shoulder there was a section
that looked as if his arm was mechanized.”

She nodded. Peel-backs were a favorite of
hers. “Is there anything else he’d like included?”

“No. He wants his entire arm to appear
mechanized.”

That was completely different than what
she’d done for Mico, but she wasn’t about to argue. “What you’ve
described looks best in black and gray. Make sure he isn’t
expecting color.”

Nazerel muttered something she didn’t catch
and Flynn chuckled. Then Nazerel looked at her and said, “Black and
gray is fine with Flynn.”

“It’ll take me awhile to complete the
sketch. Do you want to come back or wait around?”

“We’ll wait,” Nazerel decided without asking
Flynn.

Wonderful. She sketched faster and better
when she wasn’t being watched, but this wasn’t really about Flynn’s
tattoo. This was an opportunity to gather information and Sevrin
expected her to take full advantage of it. “At least have a seat,”
she motioned toward the chair against the wall. “You’re making me
nervous looming over me like that.”

He strolled around the client chair, his
gaze lingering on her. She waited until he sat in the chair she’d
indicated before she started drawing. The sketch pad was rigid
enough to allow her to work on her lap. Still, she would have been
much more comfortable at her desk. She tilted her head, causing her
hair to swish forward. It wasn’t exactly privacy, but it was better
than nothing.

“So where did Sevrin take you the other
day?” Flynn asked a few minutes later. It hadn’t taken him long to
forget she was there. Of course, they would only speak freely as
long as they thought she couldn’t understand them, so she kept her
pencil moving and her head down.

“She had a meeting with a former colleague
and she wasn’t sure what to expect.”

“She has guards to protect her. Why take
you?” Suspicion or maybe envy sharpened Flynn’s tone. That was
interesting. Were the soldier bees fighting over their queen?

“Who knows why that bitch does anything?”
Nazerel crossed his legs at the ankle, taking up most of the
limited floor space. He was built like a linebacker and had the
predatory stare of a career criminal. He never failed to unnerve
her. “She said let’s go, so I went.”

“What did she want from her ‘former
colleague’?”

Tension rippled through the room and Roxie
risked a glance at Nazerel. He was glaring at Flynn. “Why all the
questions? Did she tell you to test me?”

Flynn laughed. “This planet is making
everyone paranoid. I’m just making conversation.”

This planet? A shiver dropped down her
spine. Not this country or this place. This
planet
. Maybe it
was just a glitch in her language transfusion. Words could have
multiple meanings. She bowed her head again, hiding behind her
hair.

“Every time I think I’ve untangled Sevrin’s
motivation, I discover a new lie.” Nazerel sounded frustrated now.
“She’d have us believe she’s the selfless champion of our
brotherhood. In reality we’re simply a vehicle on which she’s
moving her ambitions forward. We’re useful to her. If that changes,
she won’t hesitate to kill us all.”

Roxie lifted her pencil. Her hand was
trembling so badly she couldn’t even pretend to draw. Nazerel’s
words sounded more than familiar. She’d come to exactly the same
conclusion about herself. She was safe as long as she remained
useful, which meant she had no choice but to betray Nazerel.
Unless… Could they help each other evade the danger? Was she safer
with Sevrin or her boys?

“If we became more
proactive
,” Flynn
emphasized the word, making it sound threatening. “How long do you
think it would take her uncle to realize she was gone?”

Her uncle? Damn it. Why hadn’t he used a
name? Even with a language barrier to protect them, these men were
frustratingly careful.

“Her uncle is the least of our concerns.
Without her contacts, we’re at the mercy of humans. We’ve learned a
lot since our arrival, but I still like my chances better with
Sevrin. We just need to figure out a way to control her.”

Unable to conceal her emotions any longer,
Roxie pushed to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Nazerel stood as
well.

She blew out a calming breath then looked
into his eyes. “I need a potty break. Too much coffee this
morning.”

His eyes narrowed to glistening slits. “Very
well.”

Had he just granted her permission to pee?
Seriously? Rather than play into his surliness, she smiled. “Thank
you, kind sir. I’ll return momentarily.”

He returned to his chair and she made a
beeline for the bathroom. She flipped on the light and locked
herself inside the tiny room. This “planet” was making them
paranoid and Nazerel didn’t want to be “at the mercy of humans”.
The implication was obvious, so why wouldn’t her mind accept what
had been revealed? They couldn’t be aliens. This was an elaborate
hoax set up for their amusement.

But the language infuser had been real. In
the span of a few hours, she had learned a foreign language. No, in
the span of a few hours, she had learned an
alien
language.

Her ears began to ring and the frantic
beating of her heart made it hard to breathe. She moved to the sink
and splashed water on her face, not caring if it ruined her makeup.
What should she do now? What could she do? It wouldn’t take Sevrin
long to learn about this visit. The woman seemed to know everything
that took place moments after it happened. She’d appear at Roxie’s
front door and demand a full accounting.

So what did she really know? Nazerel didn’t
trust Sevrin, didn’t feel safe around her. Sevrin obviously knew
that much already or she wouldn’t have recruited Roxie to spy on
him. He hadn’t revealed any secret plans, at least he hadn’t yet.
Complete denial was pointless, but could she twist the truth just
enough to protect Nazerel from Sevrin’s wrath? Roxie shook her
head. It was hard to imagine Nazerel needing protection from
anyone.

Someone knocked on the door, so Roxie turned
off the water.

“You all right in there?” Tess called.

Relieved to hear a familiar voice, Roxie
smoothed her hair back from her face and sighed. “I’m fine. Almost
done.” She reached over and flushed the toilet, still feeling shaky
and unsure.

The worst part was she couldn’t confide in
anyone without endangering them. She’d never felt so isolated or
vulnerable.

One step at a time. That was the only
strategy that made sense. She’d get through this session with
Nazerel and Flynn, then deal with Sevrin. Roxie wasn’t sure what
she’d say. She’d keep it vague yet truthful and hope that Sevrin
would be pleased enough to give Roxie more time.

“That was excellent.” Odintar watched
Jillian closely, unsure how to interpret the ripples of emotion
surging across their psychic link. Her stance was solid, her
expression calm, yet spikes of random emotions kept stabbing into
his mind. “I think we’ve accomplished enough for one day. Why don’t
you take a bath?”

She bent her head and playfully sniffed her
armpit. “Am I that ripe?”

“Not at all. I only thought it would help
you relax before you go to bed.”

Desire swelled then receded as quickly as it
had formed. She was still fighting her emotions. She would never
experience the full strength of her power until she learned to let
go. Still, he’d pushed her hard today, expecting more than he would
have from an ordinary apprentice. But then there was nothing
ordinary about Jillian. She was the most fascinating combination of
strength and vulnerability. Her potential seemed nearly limitless,
yet she had serious obstacles to overcome if she hoped to tap that
potential.

“A bath sounds nice.” Her gaze lingered for
another moment before she turned and headed off down the hall.

It was for the best. Spending the night in
her bed was more than tempting. He’d fought his need to touch her
all day. She must trust her emotions, learn to use them as fuel for
her abilities. Lust was a powerful emotion. If he aroused her, he
could teach her how to… It was an excuse. His desire for her had
nothing to do with training and he wasn’t willing to blur the
lines.

After indulging in a frustrated sigh, he
went to the kitchen and opened the pantry door. The back wall of
the small walk-in pantry slid to the right, revealing another door.
He triggered the door with a facial scan, then descended the simple
wooden stairs.

The basement was stark and utilitarian,
windowless walls and exposed support beams. He glanced at the
detention cells. Without the containment field active, they looked
like concrete cubicles. In the back corner of the basement nestled
the control hub. Not only could Elias, or whichever of his men was
on duty, observe every room in the safe house, they could contact
the Bunker and access the program’s expansive database. A row of
bulletproof windows kept the room from feeling claustrophobic.

Elias noticed his approach and waved him in.
The door hummed then popped and Odintar pulled it open. “Why aren’t
you climbing the walls? You’ve been down here for hours.”

“I’ve had plenty to keep me busy.” He
gestured toward the multi-screen display that spread the length of
his workstation. Three of the six screens featured interior views
of the safe house, while the other three displayed search engine
results and various forms of data. Elias turned his chair around
without standing up. “In fact, if you hadn’t come down here, I was
about to go get you.”

Odintar had spent more time with Morgan than
Elias. But Morgan trusted her lieutenant implicitly, so Odintar was
willing to give him a chance. “What’s up?”

“We have a lead that we need explored and
Jillian is uniquely qualified to do the exploring.”

Odintar crossed his arms over his chest,
immediately leery. Jillian had barely begun to test her limits and
utilize her gifts. She was weeks, perhaps months away from a field
test. “Explain.”

“We have substantiated reports that various
Shadow Assassins are visiting a tattoo shop called Unique Ink. We’d
hoped to follow one of them back to their team house, but they
always walk a few blocks from the shop and then teleport to God
knows where.”

“And how can Jillian help?”

“The owner,” he glanced at one of the
screens, “Roxie Latimer, is trying to hire a receptionist, someone
to greet customers and answer the phone. We wouldn’t have to invent
a backstory for Jillian. She’s lived here for years and has
verifiable references.”

Odintar nodded with reluctant understanding.
“And she has a reason for seeking another line of work.”

“All she’d have to do is limp or maybe go
back into the brace for a bit.”