Havoc (32 page)

Elion sucked in a breath as his body reacted, first with shock, then with heat. He pressed his palm against Lowan's solid chest and drew back. His hand lay over the assassin's heart, and he could feel the raised outline of the brand that marked him as an agent of the EFC. Saints, Kels stood right beside him, and here he was getting a hard-on over this man. His body remembered how savage the sex had been.

He took a step away and said, “Lowan. Thank you for coming."

The other man stared at him. “You knew I would.” He had a growly, sexy voice with a pronounced Old Earth Germanic accent. “Elion Andervaars. How can I serve?"

Elion risked a nervous sidelong glance at Kels, who did well to mask his shock, but not so well that Elion couldn't read it in his slightly widened eyes. “Uh, my captain and I have come across some information we believe would be of interest to the EFC. It involves hybridizing Primes and humans."

Lowan narrowed his jade green eyes. The air around him seemed charged with static and danger. “It's been proven that alien and human DNA are incompatible. How would this be so?"

Kels finally joined the dance. “An elite Prime operating from a deep-space liner has managed to do it. We have the evidence."

The assassin passed a dismissive gaze over Kels. He would know who he was, for Elion had spoken of him when they had been together on Nightmute, but clearly he was here for Elion's sake. Likely he resented Kels for keeping Elion from him. “What sort of evidence? I need a body. Living, preferably."

Elion cut in. “Hair. Blood. Tissue.” He'd taken the samples from Sayal himself. She hid in the false cargo bay now, close to the warmth of the machinery in case things went badly and the assassin ran a heat scan over the ship to detect her. They'd taken every possible precaution. “No body, though."

"Where did you get the samples?"

Ah, the tricky part. Elion held his laserlike gaze. “I can't say, Lowan. That's why I called you. I knew I could trust you."

"If you can trust me,” the assassin growled, “then you must trust me with all information. You're saying a great crime has been committed, an affront to everything holy and pure."

"The sample source has been destroyed,” Kels lied easily. “But before she was killed, she told us everything she could. She hated the Prime as much as you do."

The cruel lips lifted slightly. “That would be difficult."

There was no point in hiding Sayal's sex, for the DNA would tell them much. Hair color, eye color, skin color... Elion gripped Lowan's arm, bringing his gaze back to him. “Lowan. We risk everything to bring this evidence to you. The reason I came to you is that I know you'll keep us out of it.” He almost added
please
or
won't you
? but took a cue from Kels instead and told instead of asked. He held the killer's gaze steadily. “This can't be traced back to us. Everything about the samples is sterile. Only you know that I brought it to you. Only you could implicate us. Our lives would be forfeit should our role be revealed."

"I understand.” Lowan seemed to settle back on his heels, and some of the rigidity eased from the broad shoulders. “I wouldn't put you in jeopardy, Elion."

All right, then. Elion released a pent-up breath. “There's more to it. We have reason to think the Prime was working with the Terran Armada. The goal of this experiment was to create human-Prime hybrids with parapsychic abilities. We believe they were meant to be assassins or supersoldiers of some sort."

Lowan gritted out a curse relevant to his religion. The EFC had its own secret language as well as society, but his anger was evident. Kels said, “We have names. Some of them are quite high up in the armada. It won't be easy to take them down."

The agent nodded slowly. “Rumors have been circulating.” He studied them for a moment as if debating a point, then said, “Factions in the armada are forming. One leans toward human leadership. One leans toward accepting Prime domination in exchange for technology.” He tipped his head. “Few outside of the EFC know of this. I tell you only so that if you come across any other information, you know that it will be safe with me. Safe and needed. If the Primes take control of the armada, there's little doubt the rest of humanity will fall under their yoke. Earth is the last place in the Sentient Universe where humans can live as they were meant. We preserve the culture, the history, the genetics. It would take very little to destroy it."

Elion handed him the sterile box of samples, sliding it into his grip from a plastiseal pouch. Even his fingerprints wouldn't be on it. “This is your chance to set things right, then. And we'll do our part. We fly everywhere in the SenVerse—Conflict Zone, Rim, Dregs. If we hear anything else, I'll contact you. But, Lowan, I can't stress enough. No one must know we gave you these samples. Otherwise any future information we might have been able to feed you would be gone."

"Of course. My handlers will question me, but it is acceptable to conceal sources. Even within the EFC, there is dissent.” His gaze dropped as if he'd caught himself before he said too much. “Elion, walk with me to my ship."

With a nod to Kels, Elion slung the strap of the pulsar over his shoulder and fell into step beside Lowan. The planetoid's strange, spongy ground gave beneath his boots. It was the closest private place to meet within range of their waning fuel supply. Lowan said nothing until they were out of Kels's hearing. The assassin turned to him when they reached the side of his ship. “I've thought of you often,” Lowan said, putting his hand on Elion's arm.

"And I, you, my friend.” Elion returned the grip, feeling the iron-hard muscle beneath his fingers. “You've been well?"

"I've been busy. The Conflicts are tearing the fabric of civilizations; many civilizations, not just human. They're spreading out of control."

A chill settled over Elion. “But I heard the war was moving toward the Ordinals, away from Earth."

"We're convinced that's only so that the Pakkat Union can regroup and recruit other life forms farther from the core.” He shook his head, his mouth grim. “It will never end. And the Primes"—he dropped his hand and fisted it—"they play one side against the other, giving technology to us, to them. It's a vicious game."

"Saints..."

He tucked the sample box into a safe compartment inside his ship, then turned to Elion, the hard edges of his expression softening. “You're still with that drunken captain of yours."

"Yes.” Elion couldn't stop one side of his mouth from twitching in a smile. “And he's still a handful. But I love him.” Lowan had to know. Had to know Elion would never be with him, not the way he wanted.

Lowan grunted and ran his callous fingertips down the side of Elion's neck. “Then if I kissed you farewell now, he'd be angry?"

"Kels? No."

"Good. Because I need to."

He leaned into Elion and took his mouth brutally. Despite Kels's watching, Elion couldn't help but respond. His and Lowan's brief relationship had been worlds apart from what he had with Kels, or with Sayal for that matter, but his heart broke for the assassin, living such a lonely, isolated life. Lowan had once said Elion had saved his soul.

Knowing Lowan would go back to his singular existence, Elion cupped his lean face between his palms and gentled the demanding kiss, rubbing his lips over the assassin's, sliding his tongue between them. By the time they parted, Lowan's pupils had spread like black pools, and he breathed raggedly. Elion started to speak, but Kels's shout stopped him.

"We have incoming,” he yelled, waving Elion toward the
Nova
. Lowan swung into his Lance and punched up the sensor array.

"Yes, three drones. Run, Elion. I'll hold them off."

"No, get out of here. The samples are everything."

The assassin nodded, though regret filled his eyes. The canopy slid closed, and Elion spun toward the
Nova
.

Already the drones wailed toward them, buzzing through the thick air, three pale blue arrows firing on them. The soggy soil erupted in great clods that flung up around Elion and the Lance. He slipped to one knee before he could gain momentum. Alien moisture soaked his pants leg. Kels charged toward him, the idiot, firing his blaster at the whistling drones.

"Get back,” Elion screamed. He could make it on his own. Lurching to his feet, pulsar clutched to his chest, he hurled himself forward. The thrumming whine of the Lance's engines filled the air around him, and the ground rippled with vibration as the small craft lifted.

Above Kels, the three drones spread formation and dropped. Kels wheeled and fired, the blaster coughing, the drones too far out of range for the weapon. Elion aimed the pulsar as he sprinted across the yielding ground, his boots slipping. The blue beam of the pulsar caught the tail of one drone. The three-meter machine burst with fiery sparks, spun, plummeted toward the ground. The impact threw up a tsunami of oily moss, mud, and hot metal shards over Elion. He shielded his head and ran blindly, his legs pumping.

And tripped over Kels. His friend lay at the end of a long scorch mark of fire, crumpled and unconscious. A large chunk of drone, still smoking, sat embedded in the ground beside him. It must have hit him.

"No.” Elion gasped. On his knees, he glanced over his shoulder for Lowan, but the agent had gone, as he should have. The two drones wheeled above him, coming in for another attack. Who'd sent them? Who controlled them? He slid his hands beneath Kels's arms and hauled him over his shoulder in a rescue carry.

He groaned when he saw Sayal running across the short space between them and the
Nova
. “Get back in the ship!” Saints... Did nobody listen to him? The hot fire of the drones’ attack sizzled the damp ground around him and burned his skin through his clothing. The sour tang of charred moss filled his nose. Sayal reached them and put her hands on Kels's back.

"Hurry,” she cried.

"I am,” he gritted out. Kels's added weight made his boots sink. At last they reached the ramp, and he staggered up it.

"Pull up the ramp,” he told Sayal, then dropped Kels into his chair. Blood ran from his nose and mouth, and his filth-covered face was pale. Saints below... There was no time to examine him further. Elion strapped him in and landed in his own chair to bring the ship to life. Pinging whines screeched across the
Nova's
hull like nails dragging across steel.

"They're shooting at the ship,” Sayal cried.

"It's all right. They can't hurt her.” He tried to sound reassuring while his entire frame vibrated with adrenaline. The
Nova
growled; then he heard distinct sucking as she lifted, dragging the landing gears from the soft surface. The planetoid fell away beneath them, and he aimed them toward the deeps. They'd soon outpace those drones.

Sayal didn't even wait for them to break atmosphere before she was at Kels's side, running her hands beneath his shirt, worry puckering her brow. Elion had to force his gaze back to the viewport. Fire streamed over the ship's nose as they bucked from the planet's gravitational hold. Within seconds the welcome blackness of space enveloped them.

"Five minutes to fold,” he said to no one in particular. Before meeting with Lowan, he and Kels had agreed to fuel up on the remote Nulato Outpost, not far from the large station of Savoonga, but far enough they could slip through unnoticed. He confirmed the settings, then pulled up the sensor array. Sure enough, the two remaining drones followed but were falling far behind. No larger ships appeared on the scan, which was passing strange. Where the fuck had the drones come from?

Elion swiped sticky mud from his face and watched Sayal. “How bad is he? Can you help him?"

"There's internal bleeding,” she said, her voice admirably steady, considering the turmoil in her eyes. “I can help him, but can we lay him down?"

"Yes, of course.” When Elion stood, he realized he was pretty banged up himself. The shrapnel from the exploding drone had shredded his clothing along the left side. Blood mixed with mud and moss. Nothing that would nix him, though. He hauled Kels's heavy body back over his shoulder and carried him to their small medical bay. Sayal activated the bed from the wall, and Elion stretched Kels upon it. He gripped his side and flinched.

"You're hurt too?” Sayal asked. She reached for him, but he brushed her hands away.

"I'm fine. Take care of him. I have to fold the ship and figure out where in the seven hells those drones—"

The
Nova
dipped. The pulsing wail of the impact alarm reverberated through the ship. The grav sensors overcompensated, and for a few heartbeats, Elion couldn't move his feet. But then it righted, and he dashed toward the com. Out the viewport, what looked like metal shards sprayed over the
Nova's
nose. The sensor array showed a blip, a fucking huge one, and he switched the commands to angle the view.

"Fuck me,” he muttered, for there in the deeps, waiting for them like a giant, hostile anemone, was the Prime's liner. Dull silvery blue, a thousand times the size of the
Nova
, it bristled with antennae and sophisticated sensors. Fucking Prime must have cloaked somehow, long enough to release the drones. Now it spit other objects at them—pulse disruptors, he realized, just as the ship vibrated and the lights dimmed. They'd knock out the power grids, leave them helpless.

Elion threw the ship into a wild spiral, away from the liner, but the heat-seeking PDs kept coming. He had to get the ship to where they could fold. If he kept maneuvering like this, he'd fly them out of fuel. But as he asked the ship for more, he realized the first missile had damaged her. The ship didn't kick like she should have.

He watched the sensor grid, holding his breath as the blips that marked the two PDs gained on the glowing bead that was the
Nova
. The only thing he could do was switch off all power except life support. Better to shut it off than have it fried by the PDs. Then they could play dead maybe and power up again at the last minute, make a desperate break. He'd have to time it exactly to make it look like the PDs had done their work.

The missiles loomed in the viewport. He clenched his jaw as they raced toward them, then over them. In space, they detonated silently, but the vibrations trembled over the ship. As soon as he felt the first shimmy, he punched off the power.