Parallel Attraction Read online

  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 burn with it.

  Jared's voice became as steely as an Antousian's. "So you don't deny it?"

  "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 Marco's chin, forcing his gaze upward. "Look at your face," Jared admonished, reminding him of the gash. "Look at the proof of your deeds. She is my mate, my life. You were my friend. More than that, even." Jared stopped then, his voice seeming to catch, and Marco rushed to fill the silence.

  "It was a misunderstanding," he whispered hoarsely.

  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. He spread himself along the floor, praying, begging, hoping for some kind of royal pardon.

  Out of his mind with confusion and despair, he placed his forehead against the tile in supplication. "I can… explain, my lord. I can make you understand."

  "Understand what?" Jared shot back furiously, "You told my mate that you've been in love with her for more than a year. Did I misunderstand that?"

  How could Jared ever grasp what Marco's life had been like for the past four years? What hell it had been as a lonely intuitive, always in their presence—and therefore always so near the bond that wove between the two of them. Oh, it would sound like the worst kind of lie: That somehow, impossibly, he'd begun to feel the couple's connection. All that tenderness, all the love and desire that Jared and Kelsey shared, had been living inside Marco's own heart. An interminable eternity, that's what he'd experienced, hour after hour in his king and queen's service.

  Gods, he'd never meant for it to happen, and oh how Marco had begged for the temptation to be taken away. But would those facts even matter now? He hated himself, so he could hardly expect his best friend to feel any differently.

  Jared's hard gaze never wavered. "Did I misunderstand, Marco?"

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

  Jared blinked back at him. "I trusted you with her, with her very life. God, with my own life—and you betrayed me. You betrayed us both."

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

  "No. I want you out of here. Tonight."'

  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 said quietly. "I can't leave you. Either of you."

  Jared stared down at him bitterly. "It seems, soldier, that you already left us—both of us—some time ago. Now make it formal. Pack your things and be gone within the hour."

  Then without another glance or even the slimmest regard, Jared Bennett—once and future king of Refaria—had turned on his heels and left Marco. Left the protector, bred for that singular purpose, kneeling before absolutely no one at all. And that urge and inbred need to protect and serve would always find an outlet, even if that meant thriving in the camp of an enemy.

  "Kelsey, please get up." Marco extended his hand to her.

  "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 you mentioned… he knows you're here?"

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

  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 massive 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 massive 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 chambers lay hidden deep within a rocky cleft.

  A soldier appeared just beside Jared and pressed night-vision glasses 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 cluster 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 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 glasses from the young Refarian corporal crouching beside him, waiting for his word—any word—to pass back to Lieutenant Dillon.

  Jared settled down on his belly and observed the distant terrain through the field glasses. After a moment, two Antousians stepped into plain view on an exposed portion of trail that led to the mitres, and Jared adjusted his glasses; 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.

  Behi
nd him, Jared sensed two more of his soldiers edging their way toward his position. " Lieutenant Dillon urges us to move in, sir," one of the newly arrived soldiers informed him. "He wants to lead a team in now, sir."

  Without lowering the glasses, Jared shook his head in disagreement. It required a soldier's mastery of discipline, but he instructed the men to return to Scott with one directive: "We wait," he said, and prayed that Kelsey had the time they needed to mount a stunning counteroffensive.

  Kelsey watched Marco vanish into one of the three dark passageways that led from the mitres' central chamber to God only knew where. She stared after him in shock. He hadn't bound her or tied her head to toe, he had simply left her. Almost as if he wasn't sure what to do with her now that he had her in his alien grip. Well, she decided, it wasn't her job to remind him that she was his captive.

  Yet some strange, quiet voice whispered that he still cared for her—and for Jared—despite whatever had gone wrong between them all. If he'd truly been their protector, then surely his current plan contradicted every aspect of his training. Maybe that was the real reason he'd left her here unguarded, she thought with a surge of hope.

  She listened to the echo of his retreating footsteps grow softer and softer, and when she could no longer hear them, she leaped to her feet. If he thought she was some kind of weakling who was going to take being kidnapped without a fight, well, this Marco had another thing coming to him. Marco—and Jared—had both said the mitres data was embedded within her mind. This obviously wasn't the moment to put that data to use, even if she knew how, but it certainly meant she had a bargaining chip. Would anyone really want to see her dead if she was the only one with the means to operate this weapons system?

  Clasping her hands to her head, she tried to focus: She needed to choose a tunnel, any tunnel that might lead to the exterior. But if there really were a way to escape, would Marco have left her unbound? No time like the present to find out. With nothing whatsoever to go on, she chose the left tunnel and sprinted into the darkness.

  Kelsey felt her way along the smooth wall of the passageway, taking stumbling steps. If an opening existed in this dimly lit path she'd chosen, surely she'd find it. But she felt nothing; her hands found nothing. The tunnel seemed to go on and on without end, and the farther she went, the darker it became. A whole lot darker. She'd never before feared the dark, but her heart now slammed so hard she could barely breathe from the impact of it against her ribs. She was terrified, but she swept thoughts of death and torture and time travel out of her mind, forcing everything within herself to focus. And yet step after step continued into the blackness, and it seemed like she would be swallowed up completely by an ocean of nothing.

  Jared! she cried out to him, becoming frantic as she swept her hands about the walls in wide circular arcs. Help me! Jared! They had connected earlier, and then Marco had shouted at her and she'd lost that momentary flicker of communication. Still, it had worked before, so maybe they could connect again. She centered her mind, working to access that place where they'd found each other before, and cried out desperately to him again. Jared!

  Kelsey, came his answer, quiet and focused somewhere within her. She stopped clawing her way through the inky black chamber.

  Where are you? she asked, feeling tears well in her eyes. I'm lost, Jared. I'm here, somewhere . . . the mitres . . .

  We're nearby, outside. Tell him nothing. Does he still have you? He was very much in control, and just the sound of that composure stilled her own breathing a little bit.

  You're outside here? she asked.

  Yes, we're holding a position on the western side of the lake.

  Which lake?

  Kelsey, you're at Mirror Lake, he told her. That's where the mitres are located, along the shore, up on the cliffs.

  So many things came instantly clear with the abruptness of a camera shutter's snap: meeting him fourteen years ago, his crash, the anomalies in the geology of the region, the data that he'd placed in her mind. Everything revolved around Mirror Lake—only it wasn't the lake. That's why you came here, why you were at the lake. She gasped. Because of the mitres.

  It's everything to our revolution right now.

  And so is the data inside of me, she finished.

  Yes.

  She couldn't read his voice—and she needed to know his meaning. Had everything between them only been about the mitres technology? She felt a wave of hysterical anguish bubble up within her, as if, in the space of a moment, all the events of the past week were finally overtaking her. How could she even be sure that he loved her, and that it hadn't been only about protecting this place? Maybe that was all it ever had been about, so long ago.

  Of course it wasn't just about the mitres, he whispered fiercely.

  I know.

  Do you? he insisted, sounding almost angry. Because you should know it.

  His fury, so pure and intensely focused, had the strange effect of arousing her, even now in the midst of their danger and separation from each other. But she forced all thoughts of his gorgeous Refarian body and their physical needs for each other far from her mind.

  Jared, you're in danger. Someone named Veckus—your enemies, they're here. It's not just Marco—

  It's all right, love. His voice softened again, growing low. I know.

  Marco's not working alone. He's talking about this Veckus and . . . and—

  Jared cut her off, obviously sensing her fear. Please, love, I know it's difficult, but try to let me calm you. I can do that, you know, and then I can help you out of there.

  I don't under—

  Just let me calm you.

  And then, like a faint whisper, something of Jared—of his very spirit and essence—breathed across her soul, assuring her, touching her. It was his voice. Maybe. Or it was his song—she wasn't sure. Whatever shimmered through her in that moment, it belonged to Jared and it filled her with a settled peace.

  There, he said. Open your eyes now.

  She'd braced herself against the chamber wall, pressing her eyes closed while he reached into her core. Now she stood, trembling, her legs weak beneath her, afraid to look around her. But when she dared to open her eyes again, instead of the blackness of the chamber she was met by a golden wavering mist, enveloped by it, really. The entire tunnel filled with a nimbus of light that radiated around her, warming her from without and within, and then there, standing in the very center of the tunnel, was her lifemate. Not physically, of course; he was walking her soul or whatever it was he'd done a while ago. Only the connection with him was manifesting much more strongly this second time around, probably because he was just outside the chamber.

  She flung herself into his arms. I knew you'd come.

  Even though you begged me not to. He laughed gently, folding her against his muscular, strong chest. It was as if no physical separation existed between them, even though she knew that one did. Selfishly, she wanted to forget that fact, wanted nothing but the safety and strength of her lover's arms, and so she clung to him. He was real; this moment was real. She'd be damned if actual reality would wrench him out of her arms yet again.

  I'm going to get you out of here, he reminded her, slowly pulling back to stare into her eyes.

  She'd already forgotten how warm his dark eyes were, the almond shape of them, the way they flashed with undeniable energy and heat. Alien eyes. Her mate's eyes. You're beautiful, she breathed—silently, she thought. Until he whispered back: So are you.

  You came for me, even though it was the last thing you should've done! she cried, suddenly remembering the truth of their circumstances again.

  He glanced around them, running his fingertips along the wall. This isn't the right tunnel, he said, ignoring her protests. It's not the right way to get you out anyway—nor the best way.

  You could've done this for me from your camp, she reminded him.

  He turned back to her, blessing her with such a loving gaze that she felt the breath leave her lungs. You knew I couldn't le
ave you here, he said, his voice filled with the same emotion she saw glinting in his dark eyes. Not with all that you mean to me, and not when I'm the one who put you in this situation.

  Marco wants you dead, Jared, she reminded him seriously. Please be careful. Please don't put yourself in any more danger than you already have.

  But all he said in reply—as vague as he usually was when answering her questions—was, I am protected. Don't worry, sweet human.

  But are you in danger?

  My whole life I've been in danger. I wouldn't let that keep me from defending my lifemate. He took her by the hand. I'm here to show you how to open the chamber portal, he explained, leading her quickly back down through the dark hallway she'd just traversed. I can't open it for you, not from the outside, but I can show you how to use the codes that are already within your mind.

  She ran with him, not bothering to question whether they were walking physically or if he was simply moving within her thoughts, laying out a plan for her escape through their psychic bond. It took only a few seconds to return to the central chamber—a path that had taken her several long minutes to traverse on her own in the darkness.

  In the better lighting, the flickering vision of Jared dimmed. Close your eyes again if it will help, he instructed her. Taking her by the shoulders, he pressed her down to a sitting position on the floor. Here, he urged, close your eyes and listen to me. Watch.

  Scott leaned against the boulder beside Jared, using his natural Antousian skills at power manipulation to circle his commander with a ring of protection. Jared's eyes were closed, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, and his head lolled back against the boulder as if he were asleep.

  Objectively, Scott understood why Jared had chosen to connect with Kelsey in the middle of their recon, and yet subjectively, he felt concerned and protective. Here they were, deep in the backcountry at three a.m., enemies all about them, and their king had chosen to form a spatial bridge with his lifemate. So Scott watched over the man, all his senses opened wide, and prayed that their commander's plan for opening the mitres would work. A mist rolled slowly over the lake, as haunting as a specter in its foggy progression. The full moon sliced through it like a searchlight, and did nothing to ease the creeping apprehension that had settled over Scott's mind.