Page 23 of Allegiance of Honor


  At the door, the SkyElm dominants came to attention. "We'll stay, bear witness," the female soldier said in a quiet voice.

  Her partner nodded.

  Accepting their right to remain, Lucas glanced at the healer. "Go," he repeated in a gentler tone. "You don't need to see this."

  The woman was sobbing, but she didn't argue with him.

  Waiting only until she'd left, Lucas looked down into the face of the man who'd betrayed his own pack in a selfish desire for vengeance. "Changeling law is clear. You sent outsiders into my territory. Those outsiders had orders to take my child, even if that meant killing my mate. The penalty is death."

  The air around Monroe began to shimmer, as if he'd finally figured out he could shift and escape his bonds.

  Lucas didn't hesitate.

  His claws sliced through Monroe's carotid and jugular in the split second before the shift took hold.

  *

  "HE was good once," the healer whispered to Lucas while the two of them stood below the aeries, waiting for the soldiers to return.

  They'd gone to bury the man who'd once been their alpha, giving him that much at least, even if they could no longer give him their respect.

  "Arrogance became a way of life for him well before the Psy attack." The healer hugged herself. "I could see it settling in, tried to counsel him, but he would never listen. He always knew best." She swallowed. "Even his sentinels couldn't get him to pay attention, see what he was doing to the pack."

  "Then they should've walked away." A pitiless answer, but that was how a pack was supposed to function--an alpha had no automatic right to the loyalty of his strongest men and women. He earned it. If he didn't have that loyalty, he didn't have the right to be alpha.

  "Yes." The healer sighed. "I think they stayed because we had so many elders and children and . . . because of inertia." Her hand trembled as she wiped away the remnants of her tears. "The money cursed us in a way. It made it easier to stay with the pack than to strike out and find a new life."

  Lucas tried to be charitable toward the dead, but the truth was that their choices had helped doom the pack as much as Monroe's mismanagement.

  "But don't blame those two," the healer whispered urgently as SkyElm's sole surviving dominants reappeared in the distance. "They wanted to roam and explore, were held back by our lack of dominants. And they're babies for all the responsibility they'd taken up."

  Lucas had already figured that out--these two couldn't be older than twenty-two, twenty-three. In DarkRiver, they'd be junior soldiers at most.

  Waiting for the two to reach him, he said, "It's done?"

  They snapped to attention. "Yes, sir," the female said.

  "We didn't place a marker," the male added defiantly. "He doesn't deserve that."

  A pause followed . . . before the healer seemed to realize she was now the highest-ranking member of SkyElm. "I don't know what to do," she said bluntly. "I don't know if another ocelot pack will take us--they're all so small, and we'd come with only two soldiers as opposed to four people who need protecting."

  "I think you're selling your submissive packmate short." Lucas had silently checked the other aerie after cleaning up the blood on his body, discovered the submissive had armed himself with knives and was waiting behind the door. "Call him down. All the adults need to be here." And the survivors of this pack needed to learn to forget bad habits starting right now.

  Submissives in DarkRiver were treated as equal packmates, simply those with a different skill set and strength. Never would they be excluded from such decisions.

  Only when all four adults surrounded him did Lucas say, "Did any of you know what Monroe was up to?"

  They all shook their heads, the submissive having been briefed on what had happened. Lucas picked up no signs of deception. He'd already been certain about the soldiers and the healer. Now, having just seen an example of how this pack had thought of its nondominant members, he realized the submissive was the last person Monroe would've trusted with any plot.

  "I'm extending an invitation for you to join DarkRiver."

  Relief crashed over their faces, too powerful to be hidden. Changelings who weren't loners by choice were lost and broken without a pack.

  "But," he said before anyone could speak, "we function very differently from SkyElm. You'll have to learn our rules and abide by them." He pointed at the soldiers. "You two will be demoted to what your rank should be, given your age and skills."

  Both nodded so quickly that Lucas realized neither wanted to be in a position they couldn't handle. Intelligent then. Good.

  "I already have a senior healer," he said to the oldest member of SkyElm. "But she'd welcome help." Lucas's pack was growing day by day; there was plenty of room for another pair of healing hands.

  "I know Tamsyn," the other woman said with a smile that lit up the weathered lines of her face. "She's brilliant and far more suited to a strong pack like DarkRiver than I'd ever be. And . . . I'm tired." Sad, too, her expression told. "I'll be happy to assist her where I can and to care for our orphaned cubs the rest of the time."

  "Those cubs will need parental figures." Lucas included both the healer and the submissive in his next statement. "Do you want that responsibility?"

  "Yes." The submissive's voice was firm, though he didn't have the dominance to meet Lucas's eyes. "The less disruption to their lives, the better--they've barely started speaking again after the trauma."

  Lucas nodded. "I'm leaving tonight. Pack up what you need and be ready to leave here in forty-eight hours." He'd send a team to secure the aeries, put anything his new packmates didn't need into storage.

  By changeling law, the land itself would be forfeit if SkyElm had occupied it through historical rights. By general law, humans and Psy were locked out from claiming such vacated land, but it would be available for a changeling pack to claim, so long as they could defend it. If, however, SkyElm had purchased the land, then Lucas would make the decision as to what happened to it. These people were now his responsibility and that included taking care of their financial legacy.

  "Can we leave tomorrow?" one of the soldiers blurted out. "It won't take long to pack what we need and the rest we can come back for at a later time."

  Looking around, Lucas saw no disagreement on the faces of the other ocelots. There was too much pain here, he realized, too much loss. They needed to escape. "I'll organize it." He slashed a claw down one side of the male dominant's face, did the same to the female dominant.

  Neither flinched.

  Lucas then touched the submissive's cheek with his palm and pressed a kiss to the healer's forehead. "Welcome to DarkRiver."

  The submissive began crying, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

  Lucas embraced him, holding the other man until he no longer needed the touch, until his animal understood and accepted that it no longer had to carry this unbearable weight alone. He had an alpha he could rely on.

  "The children," Lucas said in a gentle reminder when the ocelot male could finally breathe again.

  Nodding jerkily, his new packmate left, to return with a boy of about seven and a girl who looked at least a year younger.

  So young.

  And so scared.

  Hunkering down in front of them, Lucas simply opened his arms. They came instinctively to him, knowing from the stances of their packmates that he was safe . . . and feeling his strength. From the way they clung to him, they needed that strength as badly as the courageous man who'd watched over them until this instant.

  Lucas squeezed both children tight, rising to his feet with them still in his arms. "You'll be coming home with me," he murmured and knew he couldn't leave tonight.

  To do so would be to break their fragile hearts.

  So be it. He'd figure out a way to adjust his plans.

  *

  LESS than twelve hours later, DarkRiver had six new members, no one had noticed Lucas's absence, and Vasic Zen had agreed to teleport Naya to visit
her maternal grandmother in the coming week.

  "As long as I'm not needed for an emergency," the Arrow said, "you can contact me when you've set up the meet and I'll do the teleport." Icy gray eyes holding Lucas's. "You're sure you want your mate and child within the territory of one of the most dangerous women in the world?"

  "Nikita knows not to cross me." Lucas didn't have the emotional connection to Nikita that Sascha did, would eliminate her without hesitation should she prove a threat. "Has the squad heard from BlackSea? Any progress on locating Leila Savea?" It had been well over a week since Tanique Gray's psychometric vision.

  Vasic shook his head. "Nothing." A glance at the small jade clock on Lucas's desk. "I'd better head home. Ivy's planning a special dinner for Grandfather for his birthday."

  "Ashaya mentioned it was today." The scientist deeply respected Zie Zen, and to Keenan, the elder was his grandfather, too. "She said Keenan made him a gift."

  Vasic's smile was slight, but for an Arrow, that equaled a giant grin. "It's a portrait of Grandfather done in rainbow colors that he has solemnly promised to place in his study--I teleported him to visit with Ashaya and her family earlier today."

  That promise, Lucas thought, said a great deal about Zie Zen. A powerful man who'd surely made many ruthless decisions in his long lifetime, he'd nonetheless not lost his soul. "Please give him DarkRiver's best wishes. We will always be in his debt." Without Zie Zen, Ashaya would've never escaped the Psy Council's clutches, and without Ashaya, Dorian might still be furiously angry at the world, his leopard trapped in a clawing scream inside his body.

  That, however, was simply the most obvious example of how Zie Zen had influenced the pack in a positive way. Lucas knew the Psy elder had his fingers in many other pies and, like Nikita, he protected those who were his own. In this case, that included DarkRiver, since Keenan and Ashaya called the pack home.

  "I will," Vasic promised before teleporting out.

  Alone, Lucas turned to his desk and slid his computer screen back into the body of his desk. He'd only arrived home at close to one this afternoon, wouldn't have minded a few hours' rest, but he'd come into the office instead so people could see he was in the territory. Once here, he'd spent the time wisely and cleared a backlog of tasks that fell to him as the head of DarkRiver's business enterprises. Not everything, however--that would take another three hours at least.

  Walking out to where his admin sat at her own desk, he said, "You going to shoot me if I head out?" He could finish up tomorrow morning, but he needed to know if there was something urgent he'd overlooked.

  Ria rolled her eyes. "Like I could stop you."

  Grinning, Lucas tapped her on the nose. "We all know you're the boss of this office." Ria might be human but she was one of the strongest members of the pack, her status in the hierarchy that of a senior maternal dominant.

  Now, her scowl was thunderous. "Tap me on the nose again like I'm a cub and I'll break your hand."

  "Boss of the office," he reiterated before ducking back inside his own space to grab his leather-synth jacket. He'd borrowed Vaughn's jetcycle, and at those speeds, even a panther felt the chill. Shrugging into the jacket, he walked back out to Ria. "I heard Mialin caught a cold."

  Her face softened. "Only a sniffle. Emmett's got her with him today." Eyebrows drawing suddenly together over the silky brown of her eyes, she said, "How do you even know that? She just developed it this morning."

  "You might be the boss of the office," he said as he zipped up the jacket, "but I'm the alpha of DarkRiver." Every packmate was his responsibility, especially the littlest of them all. "Tamsyn had a look at her?"

  Nodding, Ria got up to give him an unexpected hug, the scent of her small, curvy body deeply familiar to his panther. "You're a good alpha, Luc."

  The out-of-the-blue words hit him hard after what he'd seen in SkyElm.

  He wrapped his arms around her, held her close. "Thanks, Ri-ri."

  Elbowing him for using her endearing family nickname, she released him to go over to one corner of the office. "Don't forget your helmet or Sascha will brain you."

  Lucas accepted the gleaming black thing. "I'll be at Dorian's, then home if you need me."

  His light mood only lasted until he hit the road out of town, his face turning grim inside the helmet. Because he wasn't just swinging by to see how Dorian was healing. The sentinel might be off active duty, but he remained one of Lucas's most trusted people. And as of last night, he had a new task: to find the ship that had been meant to take Lucas and Sascha's cub from San Francisco to Australia.

  PART 3

  Chapter 27

  ZIE ZEN SAT in a chair outside Ivy and Vasic's home, his left hand on his cane, and listened to a young brown-haired boy play under the fiery light of the setting sun. Tavish was laughing more and more as the days passed, and today as he chased a small white dog through the orchard, he hadn't stopped. The sound was joyous music.

  Sunny, I wish you were here to see this.

  The only woman he had ever loved had wanted hope for their people, wanted joy. Instead, she'd been worn away by their need until her heart no longer beat, until there was no strength in her to breathe. His sweet, gentle Sunny. An empath during the time when the PsyNet turned against empaths, when it wanted only cold Silence. That choice had killed her, and in so doing, killed the best part of him, too.

  "Grandfather." Another empathic voice, sweet and hopeful and with a generous warmth that sank into his aching bones. "You're cold. Here."

  Only when Ivy put the afghan over his knees did he see that his hand was trembling on the cane despite the sunshine that poured down on him, his wrinkled skin bearing the marks of age. "Thank you, Daughter." He touched his hand to Ivy's soft tumble of curls as she bent over to arrange the afghan, this woman who had brought his son alive.

  Vasic might not be that in absolute terms, their relationship two generations removed, but he was Zie Zen's son of the heart. And he'd done what Zie Zen couldn't--Vasic had saved his empathic mate, kept her from being crushed under the endless need of their people. A people who had finally remembered that the Es were treasures to be cherished.

  It eased Zie Zen's century-old pain to feel her touch, to know that Sunny's dream was on the road to coming true.

  Ivy smiled, the translucent copper of her eyes luminous and her affection and love for Zie Zen an open caress against his senses. Empaths--they had no sense of self-preservation. Never had. Probably never would.

  "Would you like a hot drink?" she asked as the sun kissed the gold and cream of her skin.

  Sunny's hair had been yellow cornsilk, her eyes blue, but she'd been this way, too, always watching out for others. It was a need in an empath, this nurturing drive. "No," he said. "The throw is enough."

  "Ivy!" Tavish rushed pell-mell toward them, the knees of his beige corduroy pants stained with grass and dirt. "Ivy! Ivy!" The seven-year-old all but ran into Ivy's legs, throwing his arms around them in wild affection.

  Laughing in a way that told the child he was loved, his affection welcome, she ruffled his hair. "Careful, speedy."

  Tavish tipped back his head, looked up. "Did you finish Grandfather's birthday dinner?"

  "I did." Ivy met Zie Zen's eyes. "I hope you'll like what I've chosen."

  "You could do nothing that would displease me, Daughter."

  Ivy's gaze shone wet before she was distracted by two words from the Arrow child who now called the orchard home, and who looked to Ivy and Vasic as family. As parents who wouldn't reject him the way his birth parents had done when he proved to have a dangerous telekinetic gift. "Wanna play?" Wariness was a sudden intruder lurking in eyes of hazel mixed with brown.

  Then Ivy leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Why not?"

  Wariness wiped away with a smile that was a burst of starlight, Tavish went to run back to the ball the small white dog, Rabbit, was guarding. He paused midstep, came to Zie Zen, his pace far more sedate. "Grandfather," he said respectfully. "
Would you like to play, too?"

  Zie Zen raised his hand to the boy's cheek, touched the innocent warmth of it, and thought of the children he and his Sunny might've created had they lived in another time. "I will enjoy listening to you play, Grandson."

  Tavish made an aborted movement forward, seemed to decide to do it, and threw his arms around Zie Zen. Zie Zen closed his own around the boy, this small, bright spark of life who had learned to laugh under Zie Zen's eyes.

  "I'll be over there, Grandfather." Tavish pointed toward the start of the orchard after the embrace came to a natural end. "You can call me if you need me. Okay?"

  "You are a good grandson."

  Flushing with pride, Tavish took his leave and ran off.

  Ivy followed at a slower pace after picking up Zie Zen's fallen cane and placing it against the side of his chair. She was soon caught up in the game, however, one that seemed to involve kicking the ball between two trees, with Rabbit in hot pursuit of the black-and-white object anytime it went past an invisible boundary.

  When Vasic 'ported in right beside Ivy, she turned to kiss him in a motion so fluid, it was as if the two were one being. Zie Zen didn't need to be an empath to sense her piercing love for Vasic, or Vasic's passionate devotion to her. Zie Zen's son of the heart loved his empath as Zie Zen had loved his Sunny.

  Even as the couple drew apart, Ivy's palm yet on Vasic's chest, Tavish came to tug at Vasic's hand and ask him to join in the game. Vasic touched that hand to the boy's shoulder before turning to meet Zie Zen's gaze. Grandfather, you are well? His telepathic voice was as pure as a remote lake of unbroken ice, but there was no cold within Vasic.

  Not any longer.

  I am very well, Son. And he was. The sunshine was warm on bones that felt far older than his years. It was the weight of sorrow, the weight of memory, the weight of promises he'd made to himself to see through his Sunny's dream.

  Here in this sun-drenched orchard while his son played with a child who had chosen Vasic as his father, and an empath laughed in unfettered joy, that dream came true. The Psy race was no longer a place only of chilling Silence, the PsyNet no longer a stark black-and-white landscape devoid of emotional bonds.

  The time of endless darkness was over.