Chapter 9

NINE

Dragek's eyes fluttered open. He felt like shit. He had a pounding headache, and his right arm was numb.

The rest of him hurt all over, but he didn't mind that so much.

It was the fog that bothered him: the disorientation, the loss of control.

The momentary fucking helplessness.

How he hated being rendered useless at the hands of another.

Just now… what did you do?

And there was Ashrael, pinning him to the floor with one hand, his normally unreadable features twisted by hostility.

Of course, he had every right to be suspicious.

"Get out of my head," Dragek snarled, baring his fangs as his lips curved into a vicious smile. "And then I might consider telling you." After dwelling inside the human's head—and having to deal with all the terrible emotions that came with her existence—he didn't feel like having one of the most lethal of his kind pollute his thoughts with mindspeech.

The ability to speak was a newfound gift.

He might as well use it.

"Get off me, too. I'm not going to attack you. We both know there's no point."

Ashrael stared at him for a moment, his sightless eyes filled with darkness and mistrust.

Dragek forced himself to go still. He withdrew his ka'qui and tried his very best to radiate neutral intent.

"Fine," the Silent One said after a long pause during which both of them hardly breathed. The air around them grew thick with tension. "Now, tell me what the fuck you were doing just now."

"What in the Nine Hells are you talking about?" He decided to mess with the bastard just a little. What else was he supposed to do with someone so infallible? Ashrael was infuriatingly perfect. Devastating fighter, moral objector, mated to a powerful human. Dragek wanted to get under his skin—just because.

So he feigned ignorance for a moment, even though he knew Ashrael would unmask him sooner or later.

He also knew that it was probably a good thing if the human was found by them. If she was being chased by malign forces, then it was better to be under the protection of the Darkstar. Tarak and Ashrael were noble to that extent. They would always act benevolently toward an innocent human.

If he knew all that, then why did they irritate him so much?

"You… just now, when you were rendered unconscious. I reached out with my ka'qui and found an empty vessel. Breathing and pulse intact, but that was it. There was no consciousness within your body, or if it was there, it was very faint—undetectable to me."

"So there are things that even the notorious Ashrael doesn't know."

"Don't be obtuse. You know very well what I'm talking about. You intentionally departed your body. Why… and how? "

"If I knew, I wouldn't have done it."

" Ah. "

Surely, Ashrael would understand that there was no way he would willingly leave his body like that—especially in his presence. To be so utterly defenseless in the notorious assassin's presence was akin to walking naked into a swarm of vakkandik flies.

He would have been at the assassin's mercy, completely vulnerable and helpless. Ashrael could have ended him at any moment.

The thought was infuriating. Dragek made a silent vow never to put himself in such a situation again.

If he had to become better, faster, more lethal, then so be it.

"Take it easy," Ashrael said softly. "I wouldn't be so quick to kill you. You still haven't chosen your path."

"I'm here, am I not?"

"Under some duress."

"I'm doing this of my own free will. Otherwise, you would have needed to put me in restraints and throw me into stasis under heavy sedation."

"You were a fucking handful when we first detained you."

"I don't need to be reminded," Dragek snarled, baring his fangs. "That was not by my own free will. This is different."

To his surprise, Ashrael's aura softened, and a solemn expression crossed his elegant features. But still, he didn't release Dragek from his unrelenting grip. "Understood—better than you might think. Now… tell me what you were doing just now."

His tone was unexpectedly gentle— deceptively so.

Dragek still didn't trust him, although, strangely enough, part of him wanted to. Ashrael was probably the only being in the Universe who could understand the extent of the disconnect he was experiencing right now.

From being under the complete control of a vile being to this…

Another master. And an infinitely more dangerous one if he made the wrong move. But Tarak wasn't like the old Imperial Overlords. For some reason, he inspired great loyalty amongst his followers, including Ashrael.

There had to be a reason all those battle-hardened bastards had pledged allegiance to the General, and it wasn't out of fear. There was nothing to hold them in check, nothing to stop a mutiny from occurring.

Only pure loyalty.

Dragek didn't completely understand it, but it was obvious there were benefits to serving under this man. He saw the freedom Tarak's warriors had. Aside from their missions and training commitments, they seemingly roamed around at will, free to enjoy leisure and camaraderie.

Free to pursue their mates.

If Dragek chose wisely, he could turn this situation to his advantage.

The last thing he wanted was to be a mindless drone for the rest of his life, pinned under the will of another.

He just wanted to taste freedom. As an assassin, he'd seen enough, done enough. Amidst the darkness of his existence, he'd caught glimpses of beauty. In order to seek his targets, he, the killer, had been ordered to travel. He might be physically blind, but he wasn't psychically blind, nor was he stupid or completely obtuse.

It was one thing to be a mindless drone, dealing death as easily as if it were a puff of atmospheric dust. It was quite another to be trapped in a web, perceiving things on the outside but never being able to reach them.

But he saw. He remembered.

He yearned.

There were worlds beyond the harsh confines of Kythia and the Empire. Remote, relatively untouched planets scattered throughout the Universe where he could see himself making a bolt-hole; places where he could exist in peace, away from malign politics and the machinations of ambition and greed.

Where it was quiet.

Despite all the violence he'd wrought, Dragek just wanted a dose of peace and quiet to go along with his freedom.

What a fucking dream.

Well, he was on Earth now. It wasn't exactly peaceful or quiet, and there was the not-so-minor inconvenience of a human female who seemed to have the ability to draw him toward her in their dreams…

Well, he might as well tell Ashrael about his Talent. The alternative was for it to be forced out of him, and he didn't want to give that bastard any reason to forcibly interrogate him.

"Ashrael," he said quietly, concentrating his ka'qui into a small but intense burst—just enough to irritate. Then, he released it, intentionally slapping his new master in the face with an invisible fuck you of psychic energy. "Get your hand off me, and I'll tell you."

Ashrael shook his head slightly as if surprised at himself. "Very well." And suddenly, the pressure was gone. "You know, you should consider it an honor that I find you so much of a threat."

" Tch, " Dragek scoffed aloud, but secretly, he was tickled that the infamous Ashrael—the Silent One that all Silent Ones yearned to surpass—perceived him this way. Of course, he would do everything in his power to ensure he reached a level where he could truly smash Ashrael's smug, irritating face in.

He wasn't quite there yet.

Even he could admit that.

For now, I am defeated. His lips curved into a sardonic smile. "Sometimes, I detach."

Ashrael raised a dark eyebrow. "Detach?"

"When I enter the void beyond consciousness, I can sometimes leave my own body and inhabit another space. Doesn't happen very often, and when it does, I can't control it."

The other Silent One was unreadable. Even his ka'qui was silent. He didn't say a word; he simply watched.

And waited.

Quiet.

Still.

Dragek knew this stillness. It was so very characteristic of their kind— his kind. It was a stillness borne of revolutions upon revolutions of forced patience, being chained to the will of another, made to wait and desperately control one's thoughts lest they be invaded.

And Ashrael's stillness was deeper than his own. In comparison, he was impatient, kinetic.

A sharp puff of exasperation escaped his lips. He made a quick mental calculation and decided there was no harm in telling Ashrael about her. In fact, Tarak and his ilk were probably the only beings in the Universe who would go out of their way to help her.

He shook his head as he remembered the human — confused, terrified, hapless, caught in an utterly ridiculous situation. But then, who was he to talk? Not too long ago, he'd been at the beck-and-call of the Mistress.

He should have just killed those two human males once and for all to ensure they didn't come after her.

"I found one."

"Found what? "

"A human with the Talent."

"You what? " Ashrael rocked back on his haunches, allowing Dragek to sit up. Then, to his surprise, Ashrael gracefully rose to his feet and extended his hand. "Get up, bastard. I did not give you permission to leave this place. Don't tell me you found a sarien already."

" Sarien?" Dragek took his hand, wincing as he stood with Ashrael's assistance. His opponent's grip was firm and unyielding and without even a hint of malice. It was unthinkable that he'd changed from a deadly enemy to this— almost like a comrade—so quickly. "Nothing like that. She is simply a human. Utterly clueless and out of control. She doesn't even know what she possesses. But she has the ability to draw me to her whenever my mortal bonds are loosened. She's done so twice now. Not my choice." He shrugged.

"You've been covertly observing her?"

"Not covertly. We have communicated."

"She knows you?" Ashrael seemed both genuinely surprised and faintly amused. "That was quick."

"She does not know me. And yet, I had no choice but to momentarily assume control of her mortal body. A pair of humans were coming to detain her, and she doesn't possess even the slightest capability for violence. It was obvious I had to do something. She let me in. I took control—for a short time only, long enough to incapacitate her attackers."

"You didn't kill them, then?"

The wry twist of Dragek's lips mirrored Ashrael's sardonic tone. "The human seems to have a way of convincing me to do things against my better instincts."

"Hm." A ghost of a knowing smile flitted across Ashrael's lips. He radiated a sense of inevitability, of acceptance, almost as if he preferred to indulge in this way of doing things. "You are not as unreasonable as I thought you were going to be. Perhaps there's hope for you yet. Did you have some time to think while you were silently locked in your own head?"

It suddenly occurred to Dragek that the notorious assassin of legend was so very different from what he'd imagined him to be.

Not just a brutal killer.

Not an unthinking slave.

Not simply a callous Kordolian.

"I may not be as enlightened as you," he said quietly, "but I'm not an idiot. At least I can understand that the Universe that was sold to us was a lie."

A sense of urgency stirred within him. For although he'd left the human—at her stubborn request, no less—he was well aware of how vulnerable she was, and there was no telling who might come after her next, especially when her would-be captors failed to report.

"Not unreasonable," Ashrael repeated. "There's a name for what you can do, you know?"

"A name?"

"You're a thought-walker. I've never heard of any of our kind being able to do it, but it's been documented. A genetic anomaly… grants the ability to separate the consciousness from one's body. In the old language, it's called Sairul. I don't yet know enough about it, but what you did was quite possibly dangerous."

" Dangerous? " His voice came out sharper than he intended.

"You entered her mind, did you not? Not just through mindspeech, but you took control of her body. You assumed her consciousness. For a moment, you were her. There's a risk you could have… imprinted some of yourself upon her. Unlike you and I, she's completely untrained. She hasn't built the barriers that are necessary to control the flow of ka'qui. If she's received even just a fraction of your thoughts or memories, there's a very real possibility she could go mad."

"I'm not that mad."

"You've seen her—what she's like. Do you think any human would be capable of swallowing the darkness that exists within you and I?"

With his Second Sight, Dragek stared at Ashrael, trying to decipher him. But as always, his minder was as cryptic as ever.

"I see." He didn't have to sift through his own thoughts to know that some of the memories buried deep within him were truly horrifying.

There were horrors done unto himself.

But far more done unto others.

What would she do if she truly knew what he was?

And now, there was the possibility that some of his memories could have transferred to her.

Fuck.

Indeed. For a moment, Ashrael ignored his request not to use mindspeech. And that is why we need to physically find her as soon as possible. Tell me where she is, and I'll get Tarak to send a retrieval team.

"Out," Dragek snapped, pushing back at Ashrael with his ka'qui . "No mindspeech."

"Very well. I was merely responding to your projected expletive."

"A momentary lapse. I'd prefer to exercise my voice. After being rendered mute for so long, I don't want you in my head."

"Understood. So, where is she?"

"I don't know the name of the location. Somewhere on Earth. A dry, hot place. She was underground—in a cave of sorts."

"That could be anywhere on this planet."

"Why don't I just ask her, then?"

"You could do that? Converse with her from here?"

"No. I can't locate her like that. As you said, she's untrained—too disorderly and chaotic. Make me unconscious."

"What?" Ashrael blinked.

Dragek couldn't help but feel a twinge of smugness at his reaction. It was the first time he'd ever seen the assassin caught off-guard.

"You may momentarily incapacitate me. You're beyond skilled—I'm sure you can control how deep I go and how long I'm unconscious for. And you'll do it without malice because I'm not your enemy anym—"

Before he could finish, Ashrael answered with a short, sharp nod and delivered a swift, precise blow to the side of his neck, right at the point where a certain nerve crossed close to the surface of his skin.

Even though Ashrael was blindingly fast, Dragek probably could have blocked him.

But he didn't because he'd asked for it—and because something unfathomable was happening to him.

This strange little human… he actually regretted leaving her. It was quite possible that some small part of him was even worried about what happened to her.

Had the Mistress put a lock on his emotions, too? Because he wasn't like this before…

Shadows coalesced in his mind as he fell backward, and Ashrael was there, mercifully breaking his fall—so different from just moments ago—and he didn't even have to seek her out.

He was already being pulled toward her.

The more he did this, the stronger the pull became.

Strange.

The very last thought he had before he succumbed to the darkness was that in order for him to connect with her, she would have to be unconscious as well.