Midnight Warriors - Parallel Attraction Part 17

A nagging thought teased at Marco's mind, one that gained substance the longer he observed Kelsey. She sat exactly where she had for most of the past thirty minutes: leaning against the wall opposite him, her face lowered. And deathly still. When at first her questions had ceased and she'd buried her face against her knees, he'd a.s.sumed she was simply crying. But now his suspicions grew rampant.

She and Jared weren't married yet, so he didn't know if their bond was anything like it became in the later years of their relationship-or if they had even discovered their unique gift for communicating over vast distances yet. But what if they had? And what if she were trying to make that connection right now?

"Kelsey, what's going on?" he demanded.

"N-nothing," she stammered, face still buried in her crumpled jacket.

And he knew. He was across the room in a breath, and with a rough jerk of her arm he yanked her to an upright position. "You were trying to reach Jared."

She shook her head in denial, but he recognized that dazed look; he'd seen it on both their faces too many times over the years not to recognize it.

"Kelsey, I know exactly what you were doing." Answering fear flickered in her intelligent eyes.

G.o.d, she thought he might actually hurt her. That he could ever hurt her-even if he tried. No matter what had happened between them all in the past eight years, wounding her in any way was something he remained incapable of doing.

In the chamber a week ago, he'd nearly aborted his entire plan after accidentally crushing her future self's hand beneath his boot. She'd cried out in sharp, undisguised pain, and the mission had all but ended before it had even started. For five full minutes he'd struggled to recover his stupefied senses enough to sift through her thoughts. He'd been gentle with the woman, as gentle as he could be; even so, she'd believed he might kill her at any moment. She, the only woman he had ever loved. But by the time he'd left her behind, shaken and dazed, he hoped she understood the truth: that even with all their painful, twisted history, he would never willingly harm her.

However, Jared Bennett was another story entirely.

"What happened to make you turn from us?" this Kelsey whispered, strong as steel-yet delicate as a newly budded flower. There it was: that dichotomous beauty he had always found so fascinating in the human. And, yes, she was human, although her story was as complicated as he'd indicated; he'd been honest about that much. Still, he'd twisted things somewhat in an effort to keep her under his control; he'd done it, and begged her forgiveness in silence the entire time.

Closing his protector's eyes, Marco willed himself to regain his composure. Thinking too much about his past never led to any good end these days. He had to stay focused, had to accomplish his mission, and he refused to yield power by dredging up things that should remain long-forgotten.

When he looked again, he found Kelsey studying him, waiting for some kind of answer. Her gaze more than any other had always had the capacity to unsettle him. So of course it had that exact effect right now; against his will, his cheeks burned hot beneath her examination. After so long, just one look from her could still cause his heart to lodge solidly in his throat, and his mind to play wayward tricks; he moved to block the impressions he kept reading off of her. Better to seal off his intuition. Better to fall back on uncomplicated warrior's strengths right now.

"So, now that you and Jared have shared communion-is he on the way?" he asked with forced coolness, brushing past her. She remained silent, until at last he began to laugh. Of course Jared was on the way-that was how connected they'd always been. No one needed to remind him of that fact.

"Well, at least that will save me a phone call," he said, and felt something like a shiver of antic.i.p.ation run through him.

He hadn't stood face-to-face with Jared Bennett-any version of him-in more than four years.

Kelsey wasn't entirely sure what she'd just seen in Marco's eyes, but she would've sworn she sensed some kind of fondness for her. Maybe she had more to do with this situation than she'd initially guessed. And if so, then maybe she could get a few answers from Marco: answers that might help Jared. She rose slowly from the cold floor and felt her knee throb from sitting in one place for the past hour-she had an old skiing injury, and when she kept still for too long, it always began to ache.

He moved his large frame to block her. "Where do you think you're going?"

She didn't flinch. "I just want to stretch my legs. Is that okay?"

At last he gave a nod of agreement, stepping backward from her.

"You'll never be able to fight them all, you know." Kelsey smoothed her hands across the front of her rumpled sweater. "They're too powerful. And you're just one man."

He looked at her and laughed softly. "I think it's really quite the opposite, my dear."

She stepped closer to him, and suddenly felt incredibly small next to his towering frame. "What does that mean?"

"I'm a full-blooded Refarian." He cast his eyes down for a moment and seemed to struggle with something. Then he looked back up at her, his expression completely unreadable. "And that's what makes all of you weak. Jared, the others, are corrupted by their human interactions. Weakened."

"Well, then I must be the weakest of all-and I still don't believe what you told me earlier."

He arched an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"A change like you're describing, on a cellular level, isn't possible. I don't even have to be a scientist to know that."

"Would you have said it was possible for one person to leave complicated designs and coding within another's mind?"

"I don't know that he did that," she argued. Although she had only Jared's word, she did believe he'd actually done what he claimed.

Marco shook his head slowly. "Kelsey, you are just more human than the others. That's all. But you are one of them. It was part of why the people rallied..." Marco's voice trailed off, and he began shaking his head as he stared at her. "My G.o.d. You really don't know any of this, do you?"

She met Marco's cold eyes with determination. "Tell me what you were going to say."

"Okay." He pulled his face within mere inches of hers. "You were his bride," he whispered, his eyes raking over her face heatedly.

"I already know we were married," she stated impatiently. "You told me that earlier. You showed me the ring!"

"No, Kelsey, I mean you were his bride. You are the beloved of Refaria-more valuable to the revolution than even the king. You are the one the rebels rise to follow. Because of your humanity. Because you are both human and Refarian, as a result of your change. You were prophesied to him years ago-hasn't he told you? You were foretold by the mystics. In every way possible, you are their queen, and they are pledged to you."

And with that simple statement, Kelsey felt her entire universe shift on its axis, and she collapsed to her knees.

Marco watched Kelsey slide to the floor and shook, his head in disbelief. How was it possible that she didn't know any of this? He thought they'd learned about her hybrid dna long before she and Jared were married. The mitres data wasn't simply within her mind; it was permanently fused inside her brain, making her not only the queen- but the revolution's true weapon. It had been why she alone could operate the mitres ten years in the future. This ignorance of hers gave him a distinct advantage; he wasn't going to spend this time before Veckus arrived educating her.

But when she slowly raised her eyes to meet his, and he saw the wild look in them, he felt something shift and come alive within his chest. Her eyes had always been like two deep pools that he could lose himself in. Find himself in.

She continued to stare up, begging him with those same lovely eyes. "Tell me the rest," she breathed at last.

The urge to guide her, to make her understand her purpose, was compelling-he'd spent too many years fulfilling his duty as their royal protector not to feel it. Obviously, she and Jared didn't know their true destiny. And he was painfully aware of just how vulnerable it left them all.

Did they know about Veckus? Valyre? Thea?

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He could not do this-he had a mission to complete.

He coughed into his hand, furrowing his brow. "The rest?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"How can I be the one they follow? I saw Jared in the slipstream, when you took me through the time portal! He was alive-I saw him. He was alive and leading his people. Leading me!"

"Yes, that's true," he agreed with a sigh. "I never said the people didn't follow him. But the one who drew humans and Refarians together and bound them as one..." He shook his head slowly, fighting a wave of melancholy as he recalled the way their future had gone. "Trust me, Kelsey, it was you."

"Trust you?" she cried incredulously, raking fingers through her hair. "Trust you? Please!"

He hadn't even noticed his choice of words. How could he ever expect her to trust him? Trust had departed between the three of them so long ago. Well, not the three of them; between the two of them and himself.

"What purpose would it serve me to he about such things?"

He extended his hand to her, intending to help her to her feet, but she ignored it. He wasn't sure how to read the look on her face. She dropped her head, bowed it almost, and remained on her knees. He tried to see her expression, but her long auburn curls formed a curtain, hiding her face from him.

"Kelsey, please get up," Marco said, extending his hand again.

She kept her head lowered. "Please, Marco... just don't hurt him," she whispered.

Again, he felt the spark of something come alive within him, but he willed it to die. "I follow Veckus now, Kelsey."

She shook her head slowly, gaze lowered to the ground. "I'm begging you. Please don't hurt Jared."

Begging you.

And then it hit him, nearly driving him to his own knees.

The woman he had called queen was kneeling before him- bowing before him-begging for her husband's life. One with such a n.o.ble and beautiful spirit was reduced to kneeling before a traitor, before him, of all people, the man who had betrayed her. He dosed his eyes against the sight of it.

G.o.d, how had it come to this?

The memories engulfed him in the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat, catapulting him through time as surely as if he'd activated the mitres. Time dissolved completely until, vivid as this moment, he stood before Jared, the terrible gash in his forehead throbbing incessantly. Jared might as well be standing here in the mitres right between them both; his voice sounded that clearly in Marco's ears: and so did his own.

"I'm begging you not to do this, Jared. Please," Marco had said, "My lord, please. Not this. Anything but this."

And Jared had stared down at him, despising him. The man he'd called brother. King. Turning his back on him after their years together. It was never supposed to be this way!

"Get up, Marco." Jared's breathing was labored and heavy. "Now."

"I was wrong. G.o.d, I know how wrong I was." Marco sought his king's pardon with his eyes, imploring him to listen to his heart, not the evidence.

"Wrong?" Jared roared in disbelief. "You tried to kiss my wife. Your queen! In my own bedroom. And when she resisted, you struggled with her. How wrong could I be about those facts? What don't I understand?" Jared's large frame bore down upon him, threatening something far worse than mere coldness. "Tell me, Marco," he thundered, so loudly the walls of the great room had echoed the words back at them, "why did you kiss my wife?"

And Marco had no answer. None whatsoever to offer the man he loved more than any other. Casting his gaze downward in shame, he felt his face b.u.m with it.

Jared's voice became as cold and crafty as an Antousian's. "So you don't deny it."

"I-it wasn't like that, my lord," he finally stammered, still not daring to raise his eyes to meet those of his king. "Please hear me."

Jared cupped his chin, forcing Marco to meet his gaze. "Look at your face," the king said, reminding him of the gash. "Look at the proof of your deeds. She is my mate, my life. You were my friend." Jared's voice had become a hollow imitation of its normal sound, filled with dark emotion.

"It was ... a misunderstanding." Jared dropped his hand away, and Marco immediately inclined his head lower, deepening his posture into the lowest, most servile of genuflections among the Refarian people.

"You told her," Jared shot back at him, gesturing furiously, "that you've been in love with her for more than a year. Did I misunderstand that?"

Marco remained silent for a long moment, wondering how he could possibly explain what he knew would sound insane. Keeping his head bowed in reverence to his king, he wondered how Jared could ever understand the truth of what his life had been like for the past four years. An intuitive, always in their presence- and therefore always so near the bond that wove between the two of them. Oh, it would have to sound crazy, no matter how he attempted to defend himself. How could Jared ever understand his torture during the past four years? That somehow, impossibly, he'd, begun to feel their connection. All that tenderness, all the love and desire that spun between Jared and Kelsey had been slowly winding its way into Marco's own spirit and mind.

G.o.d, he'd never meant for it to happen, hadn't wanted it or asked for it. He'd begged for the temptation to be taken away. With all his soul's strength, he had tried to will their d.a.m.n bond away. Every day for those years he'd shamefully l.u.s.ted for and loved his king's wife-his own queen. What sort of monster did it make him? He hated himself, so he could hardly expect his best friend to feel any differently. And of course it would sound insane to a low intuitive like Jared. No, there was no point in explaining at all, because Jared would never believe him.

Jared's furious gaze never wavered. "Did I misunderstand, soldier?" he repeated, his voice like acid.

"No, my lord," he finally replied in a defeated voice.

Jared blinked back at him. "I trusted you with her, with her very life. G.o.d, with my own life-and you betrayed me. You betrayed us both!"

Marco came to his senses, rallying to attempt a defense. "Won't you at least hear what I have to say?"

"No. I want you out of here."

The words had torn into Marco's very spirit-he had no other purpose in life than to serve the two of them.

"I don't want to leave either of you," he'd said quietly, daring to meet Jared's furious, blazing gaze.

Jared stared down at him, shaking his head bitterly. "You already have." Then he had turned on his heel and left Marco there, kneeling before no one.

But when Jared had turned his back on him that night, he had left a great void, because Marco had no other purpose than to serve his king and queen.

"Kelsey, please get up," Marco said, extending his hand again.

"Not until you tell me you won't hurt him," she said. "You don't have to do this. We've already changed the future, you and I. Tell me what went so wrong. We can fix it. Together."

"Shall I remind you again that I no longer serve Jared?"

Kelsey gazed up at him, suddenly seeming very small. She lifted her hands in front of her in desperation.

"You can still make a choice, right here, right now."Marco was silent for a long moment. "That's not really true, Kelsey."Her eyes flew to his own, fear growing on her beautiful features. "What do you mean?""I made contact with... our people after I came back in time.""Our people? You're Refarian-you said so yourself.""The people I serve," he corrected."So this Veckus knows.""The people who answer to him know. And they're outside right now.""Then this is all a setup." Kelsey clutched her hands to her chest."Trust me," he said, shaking his head at the further irony of his word choice, "Jared Bennett can defend himself."

"Why would you do this to him? At least tell me that much."

There were a lifetime of answers Marco might provide, but he decided on the path of honesty. "Because,

Kelsey, long ago Jared Bennett gave me no other choice," he said.

Then he left her there, just as Jared had once left him, kneeling in front of no one.

Chapter Sixteen.

The silent transport hovered in midair, a small dark blot against the starry sky above the Refarians' position by Mirror Lake. Unlike the ma.s.sive battle cruiser, the transport served in critical moments when speed meant everything. Only eighteen minutes had elapsed since Jared first issued his summons to Scott. Now, sheltered behind a ma.s.sive outcropping of stone and boulder, Jared and his most elite soldiers strategized their best approach toward Mirror Lake and up the steep incline to where the mitres chamber lay hidden deep within a rocky cleft along the cliffs side.

A soldier appeared just beside Jared and pressed night-vision gla.s.ses into his hands. "Four of them on the ledge, my lord," he said. Jared leaned onto his elbows, feeling his bulletproof vest pull across his shoulders as he snaked on his belly along the cold ground to gain a better view. It was nighttime, so they'd opted for their darker wear, especially since the snow around the lake was still spotty. If it had been the dead of winter, they'd be in their winter whites, but tonight they'd darkened their faces with charcoal, worn their usual black uniforms, and were moving in complete stealth as they formed their position behind the rocks. They looked like a Refarian sniper squad, which, in effect, they were. Once they'd gained a solid fix on the enemy encampments in the area they would begin to take them out, some by teams, some by long-distance weaponry.

This was what they trained for: to overpower their enemies at times of critical warfare. Adrenaline flowed in every soldier present, empowering their minds and bodies, awakening their Refarian senses totally. And while none of them relished being called into action like this, the troops serving him wouldn't be as deadly as they were if they didn't welcome warfare. He'd never forget one dying soldier's last words, years ago back on Refaria. It had been after a blistering battle outside the city, one that had lasted for three solid days weaving in and out of abandoned buildings, and ultimately into a decimated cl.u.s.ter of housing units. By the time the fighting was over more than eighteen hundred Refarian soldiers had been killed. Jared visited the field hospital, trying to comfort the wounded and critically injured.

One young man on the brink of death had waved him closer, and pulling Jared's ear down to his mouth had whispered, "I never imagined having such a grand time dying, my lord." The young soldier's death less than fifteen minutes later had crystallized something critical for Jared that day-his people welcomed a fight. They wanted to battle the Antousians who had robbed them, raped them, and seized their world from them. And if it meant dying in service of their king and home, then so be it.

Today was another such day, Jared mused, accepting the night-vision gla.s.ses from the young Refarian corporal crouching beside him, waiting for his word-any word-to pa.s.s back to Lieutenant Dillon.

Jared settled down on his belly and observed the distant terrain through the field gla.s.ses. After a moment, two Antousians stepped into plain view on an exposed portion of trail that led to the mitres, and Jared adjusted the register on his gla.s.ses; he wanted to verify that he'd read their energy correctly. Antousians had a noticeably cooler reading than Refarians, showing up a dull blue-green, while Refarians, on the other hand, tended to glow a vivid golden green. The two species' energies registered very differently on the spectrograph, as differently as they did in all other matters, it seemed.