Page 71 of Fractured Souls

She almost—almost!—felt normal again, as if death had never stretched its cold hand across her heart.

“He’s called Ashrael. Ash for short, although only his mate calls him that. And he’s not so silent anymore. Silent One is just what we’re used to calling him. Used to be stuck in a mindbond. They took away his ability to speak, but he’s broken out of that now.”

“They?”

“Empire. Secret psychic assassin training and control program. It’s mostly destroyed now. Ashrael was the worst of them, but we—no, she—turned him. He’s on our side now… well, most of the time. ”

“O-kay… You know, sometimes it’s easy to forget that you people were once part of an Evil Empire… the Evil Empire.”

“Yes.” He opened his mouth and popped in another cube of dark red meat, flashing those devilish fangs.

She suppressed a smile. Well, maybe not so much. “So this Ashrael… I take it he’s as dangerous as the rest of you, but what’s so special about him that we had to wait all this time for him to get here?”

“He’s got the gift.” Nythian tapped the side of his head. “He does the ka’qui thing, the mindspeech thing. He’s had endless cycles of training… and he’s been doing his research lately. Should be able to teach you a thing or two about mindspeech and control. He’ll be part of the team that goes after our enemies.” His brilliant red eyes narrowed. “Something’s off about this whole thing. There’s a reason these Kordolians are targeting Tharos. Boss doesn’t like it. I don’t like it. Hate to say it, but on a planet full of hungry ghosts, the Silent One's unique set of skills might come in handy.”

Not really comprehending the complexity of it all, Alexis shook her head in wonder. Before she left Earth, she would’ve scoffed at the idea that there were things like psychics and symbiotes and semi-sentient nano-particles.

Now, they were part of her reality.

“What in the Universe is more unique than your particular set of skills, Nythian?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Nythian said gently, giving her a searing look. “Finish your food. We’ll be boarding soon.”

Nineteen

They stood in one of the lower docking bays, waiting to board the medium-sized stealth-cruiser Mhyndin. The dark, cavernous ceilings of the bay soared above their heads. All around them was a flurry of silent activity—techs, engineers, maintenance and logistics crew moving quickly and unobtrusively amongst the small fleet, carrying out last moment preparations.

Nythian didn’t pay much attention to the warriors that were quietly assembling at their rear. Tarak had given him what amounted to around half an ordinary Division in Imperial terms—twenty-four battle-hardened Kordolians who’d been cooped up on the Fleet Station for far too long.

They were itching for action. He could sense the tension radiating from them. He felt the same, the beast in him thirsting for a fight… especially with traitorous Kordolians.

But then there was Alexis to consider.

She was the only reason he would back away from a fight with his sworn enemies.

To think there was a time when he’d thought of her as just another weak, senseless human; when he’d felt annoyed at the prospect of being her minder.

How wrong he’d been.

These past few revolutions had revealed many different sides to Alexis.

His mate. The wild, sensual creature he’d so thoroughly pleasured… and received so much pleasure from in return.

His mate. Stoic and tough, burying her pain beneath layers of humanness.

He’d watched as she said her goodbyes to Abbey and Layla, becoming determined and businesslike. There was a tightly controlled sense of urgency about her, but she didn’t betray even the slightest hint of fear to the other humans, didn’t try and elicit any kind of sympathy.

A warrior’s attitude to life.

Once again, she surprised him.

This mission seemed to give her something to latch onto; a sense of purpose that chased the shadows from her gaze and burned away her sadness.

Quickly, efficiently, she packed various items of clothing and weapons that had been given to her by one of the Fleet Station’s weaponsmasters, a grumpy old bastard called Kikut.

One of the items was a modified plasma gun, a new model the techs had been trialling of late.

A weapon designed specifically for humans. By stripping down the power and reducing the size, she had a plasma gun that could be fired without creating massive recoil.

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