Thea Cline was shaking so badly she had to pull her car over to the side of the road. If Jenna hadn’t collapsed as she—did whatever the hell she was doing—Thea would still be her prisoner. She couldn’t tell exactly what the traitor was doing to her, but she could feel Jenna’s vile presence in her mind. Abaddon would be furious if he realized how badly Thea had failed. Abaddon was a demanding master. His punishments were harsh and uncompromising, but his rewards were generous.

After losing her husband and children, a sister and her mother in the L.A. massacre, Thea felt like a hollow shell of a person. Thank God Grandma Helen lived in Florida. Grandma Helen was the only flicker of hope in Thea’s devastated life, but the elderly widow had moved to an assisted living community several years before and was in no position to help Thea with anything other than encouraging words and earnest prayers.

Thea hadn’t just lost loved ones that fateful day. Her home had been demolished, her purpose in life obliterated. She moved through a pointless series of days as if in a trance. Following her family into the hereafter seemed the only outlet for the overwhelming pain. Then she met Jacob.

Many said disasters brought out the best in humans. They banded together and accomplished incredible things. That might be true, but disasters also brought out scumbags, and Thea had seen far more of those than everyday heroes. Shelters and emergency housing filled up in hours after the spaceship crashed into the city. Thea was lucky enough to have a small nest egg at her disposal, so she’d opted for a motel on the outskirts of the destruction. Each time she left the shabby room, she returned to a note from the manager demanding more money. The first few times she begrudgingly paid, but the third demand had been exorbitant. She descended on the office like a vengeful spirit, determined to stand her ground. Unfortunately, the dirtbag manager had all the power. There was a waiting list of people willing to pay almost anything for a relatively clean bed and a hot shower.

Jacob overheard the screaming match and gently pulled her out into the warm, starlit night. With silver hair and kind blue eyes, he reminded Thea of her grandparents. “Don’t waste your breath trying to reason with a philistine.”

The old-fashioned phrase made her smile. It sounded like something Grandma Helen would say. “But it’s so wrong to take advantage of people’s misery. Someone has to do something.”

Rather than arguing with her, he invited her to the café across the street for a cup of coffee. Not sure if she’d have a room when she returned, Thea still agreed. They talked for hours, never once mentioning the disaster or all they’d lost. It felt so good to distance herself from the pain, if only for an hour or two. Toward the end of the conversation, Jacob asked if she’d heard about the Resistance Force.

She shook her head and smiled at the waitress who was starting to begrudge them refills. “Are they a support group?” She rolled her eyes at the idea. Sitting around in a circle, bitching about her problems, held zero appeal to her. She’d always preferred action to useless complaining.

“In a way. We think of ourselves as crusaders.” His voice lowered and he leaned in as he explained, “We have concrete plans to drive all aliens out of Earth-controlled space. We believe Earth should be reserved for humans and only humans.”

Something deep inside Thea stirred, a longing, a purpose, she’d thought never to feel again. “If the battle born had never come to Earth, my family would still be alive.” Emotion choked her for a moment, so she took a careful sip of coffee. “That freaking ship leveled the house where I grew up. Everything is gone, wiped away as if it never existed. I’d planned to raise my children in that house, to grow old with my husband. My mother and sister, they’re just gone. No bodies, just empty coffins and memories. I want the battle born gone! No, I want them dead.”

Jacob invited her to a meeting and Thea had never looked back. She was soon living in one of the tents on the secluded property owned by one of the founding members. She donated what little remained of her nest egg and offered to support the movement in any way possible. Her willingness to accept any mission without asking questions brought her to the attention of leadership. She was moved from the tent city to the bunkhouse adjacent to the main house/headquarters and her missions became more important, and more dangerous.

Thea didn’t care. A fragile grandmother was all that was left of Thea’s once happy life so she’d die while driving the murderous aliens off her planet!

Thea had been sent to Jenna to assess her attitude and determine what it would take to recruit the human hybrid. Thea was a purest, so she believed Jenna’s alien blood made her unworthy of the cause. Abaddon, however, disagreed. And no one argued with the supreme leader.

Abaddon always seemed to be a step or two ahead of everyone else. Thea wasn’t sure how he came by his information. She hadn’t been able to find any indication that Jenna was anything other than human. Abaddon must have access to intel unavailable to the general public, which reinforced Thea’s suspicions that he was, or had been, some sort of spy.

Desperately needing to hear a friendly voice, Thea checked her mirrors, making sure she was well out of traffic, then she called Grandma Helen.

“Hello.” Helen’s warbling voice had never sounded so precious.

“Hi, Gram. It’s me, Thea.”

“I know who you are, dear. You’re the only one who calls me anymore. Even your mother can’t seem to bother with a silly old woman. Is she doing okay?”

A knot of pain fisted Thea’s heart. She’d told Grandma Helen about the tragedy twice, but the fact slipped through her aging mind like water. At times like these, dementia was a mercy.

“She’s fine, just really busy. You know Mom. Never a minute to relax.” The lies tightened her throat and made the ache in her chest even more pronounced. “So what’s going on in Florida? Have you been going down to the dining room for meals, or are you hiding in your apartment as usual?”

“The food’s not worth the walk.” Helen laughed, and Thea could see her waving away the concern. “I’m more than happy with my own company. Now tell me what’s bothering you. Your voice is all tight and scratchy.” Despite her memory challenges, Grandma Helen was still surprisingly perceptive.

“I’ve just had a terrible day and needed to hear your voice.”

“Want to talk about it, or do you need a distraction?”

Thea grinned, knowing where that question always led. “Definitely a distraction.”

“Why did the snowman pull down his pants?”

With a shake of her head, Thea obliged. “I have no idea. Why did the snowman pull down his pants?”

“Because he heard a snow blower coming.”

Helen’s infectious laugh was infinitely funnier than her jokes, but Thea appreciated the effort. “That’s a good one, Grandma. I love you like crazy.”

“I love you too, Thea. Call anytime. As you’re quick to point out, I’m always here.”

The call ended and Thea cleansed her mind with a nice deep breath.

Finally composed enough to drive, Thea set the car in motion and continued on toward the hotel she’d been staying at since her arrival on the East Coast. Thrilled to leave the stressful clutter of Manhattan behind, she crossed the river and returned to her hotel in New Jersey.

Once she reached her modest hotel room, she threw her purse on the bed and retrieved her laptop from its hiding place in the back of the closet. She’d covered it with yesterday’s clothes, making sure a pair of dirty socks rested on top of the pile.

She opened the laptop and set it on the bed while it booted. Then she retrieved the device she’d been given before this mission. It was slightly larger than a thumb drive, but still connected to the USB port. There were strange, curving symbols etched into the top, but she wasn’t sure if they were a foreign language or company logo. She had no idea how it worked, but suspected the technology was way more sophisticated than anything available at the local electronics store. It created a direct link with Abaddon.

No one knew Abaddon’s real name, and no one she knew had ever been in the same room with their mysterious leader. She’d participated in video conference calls, but Abaddon only appeared as a hazy shadow. His voice was always modulated. Some suspected he was a celebrity not yet willing to announce his loyalties publicly. Others believed he was some sort of international spy. Thea wasn’t sure what she believed, but his autocratic style made her uncomfortable. Absolute power was never a good idea, not even when circumstances were this dire.

This was only the third private conversation she’d had with Abaddon. Most RF members would consider this an honor. Thea felt nothing but impatience. The connection engaged and she adjusted the tilt of the laptop until her image was centered in the small box at the bottom left corner of the screen. Now she waited until Abaddon activated his end of the connection. It generally took a minute or two, but once he’d kept her waiting for over an hour.

By the time Abaddon came on screen, Thea’s impatience had turned to annoyance. Had he really not known Jenna Fermont had powers, or was that why Abaddon was so damn interested in the filthy hybrid?

“Report.” His voice sounded deep and artificial, like a bad voice emulator. And as usual, his image was a featureless shadow.

Jenna got right to the point. “She allowed me to enter, but as soon as I told her why I was there, she attacked me.”

“Explain.”

“She grabbed my arm and…barged into my mind. I couldn’t feel what she was doing, but I knew damn well she was there.”

His shadow arm raised and touched his face. Was he stroking his chin or scratching his cheek. It was disconcerting not to be able to see the other half of the conversation. “Are you damaged?”

What an odd way to phrase the question. “I don’t think so, but obviously the conversation wasn’t long enough for me to form much of an opinion about her. She seemed suspicious and hostile.”

“She nearly died the day before. Hostility is to be expected.”

“Then why didn’t we wait a few days before attempting to see her?” Abaddon didn’t like anyone questioning his decisions, but she wasn’t sure she cared. Since her senses came back to life, she found herself becoming more and more defiant.

“The apology would have seemed less sincere if it had been delayed.”

Emboldened by his willingness to explain, she pushed a little harder. “I have no idea what she learned from me, but I guarantee it’s more than I learned from her.”

“I have always been more interested in what humans do than in what they say.”

She tensed. Again with the strange, almost formal, phrasing. He only had a faint accent, yet his word choices made it seem as if English wasn’t his first language. She squinted, trying to make out any sort of detail in his shadowed image.

“Jenna is accustomed to wealth.” His tone turned distant, as if he were talking to himself. “We need only her address to make that conclusion. The battle born allowed her to return to Earth, so she is clearly not yet claimed.”

“You knew all of that before you sent me to her house.” He’d paid for the airline ticket and the hotel room, so she didn’t really care if it was a wild goose chase. But her mind, like her body, was her own. No one could enter without her permission.

“She allowed you into her home,” he clarified. “She might have been upset by the attack, but it did not make her incapable of trust.”

“Why is this hybrid so important?” She stressed the word hybrid, boldly illustrating her dislike.

He made a strange sound, rather like a wheezing cough. Had that been his idea of laughter? “You disapprove of my interest in Jenna?”

“I’m confused by it.” He made it sound like she was jealous and that would require much more interest than she felt. She wanted all aliens off her planet, and that included half-aliens. “How did you find out she was a hybrid in the first place? It seems like a closely guarded secret to me.”

“Not closely enough.”

He hadn’t answered the question, yet something in his tone made Thea move on. “And how can she help our cause?”

“She has connections that could be beneficial to us. The fact that her father was Rodyte is irrelevant. But her resentment of her father’s people could be twisted until she feels as we feel.”

“Good luck with that,” she muttered. “I barely made it through the door before she attacked.”

“You need an advocate.”

“An advocate?” The suggestion meant he hadn’t given up, which meant she wasn’t heading back to California. She sighed. There was nothing left in California, so she wasn’t sure why she cared. She just wanted to go home. The realization only compounded her sadness. Her “home” was a pile of rubble.

“Our mistake was approaching her directly. Visit again, but ask to speak with Jenna’s mother. I believe her name is Lenore. Explain that you came to apologize and act extremely hurt and confused that Jenna responded with aggression. Play upon Lenore’s sympathy. Use your tragedy if you must, but win her over first. Then you and Lenore can work on Jenna together.”

Use your tragedy if you must. The phrase stuck in her mind like a thorn. The festering hole in her soul had just barely scabbed over and his careless words tore it wide open again. She would not “use” her tragedy for anyone or any cause. The man was deluded.

The coughing wheezy sound came again. “Clearly, I have struck a nerve. The details are up to you, but your assignment remains. Recruit Jenna Fermont by recruiting her mother, or there will be consequences.” Without giving her an opportunity for input or reaction, he ended the transmission.

* * * * *

Jenna dreamed off and on all night, but the images weren’t psychic, nor particularly helpful. Drexel Kaen featured prominently in most of the situations and each became progressively more sensual as the dream progressed. She showered and dressed in her habitual business suit. This one was navy blue and the skirt was a bit tighter than usual. If Drex was going to torment her nights, why shouldn’t she complicate his days?

After packing what she’d need for a three-night stay into a carryon bag, she went downstairs, hoping to catch her mother. She had just enough time for a quick breakfast before the shuttle was scheduled to arrive and take her to the Bunker. Would Drex be on the shuttle, or would he bio-stream directly to the Arizona desert? The thought of seeing him again made her stomach so tight she could barely eat.

“Foster said one of those Resistance Force crazies showed up here yesterday,” Lenore said once they’d passed beyond the typical small talk. “Did you call the police?”

“There was no need. I’m pretty sure I scared her more than she scared me.”

“But, sweetheart, they know where we live. That might have been the real message behind the visit.”

She rubbed the back of her neck, imagining Drex’s reaction if he came to the same conclusion. He’d lock her in his cabin aboard the Triumphant and… Wishful thinking? A wave of heat washed over her, mocking her determination to hold back the tide. Everyone might believe that her surrender to Drex was inevitable, but she refused to accept the dire prediction. She licked her lips and looked at her mother. “Foster and his men aren’t going to let anything happen to us. Forewarned is forearmed. We didn’t know about the Resistance Force. That’s the only reason their attack was successful.”

Lenore sighed then picked up her tea. “I hope to heaven you’re right. All of this is making me very uncomfortable.”

“Well, you don’t need to be. I’ll be safe at the Bunker for the next few days. Foster and his team are going to stay here and make sure nothing happens to you.”

“Foster also said you touched the intruder’s mind,” Lenore said. “Did you learn anything helpful?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Her mother’s startled look made Jenna smile. She understood shock and confusion, was feeling a good deal of it herself. “When I touch her, a rapid stream of images and impressions flowed into my mind. I managed to seal the information, make sure it doesn’t dissipate, but I haven’t been able to access it in any meaningful way. Do you know anyone who could help me review what I saw? They’d need to slow down the images so I could analyze them.”

Refilling her tea as she considered the question, Lenore took a moment to respond. “I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head. I’ll call Rachel at Stargazer Ranch. If she doesn’t know anyone with the ability to manipulate memories, she should at least be able to tell me who would know.”

Jenna nodded, but Drex’s image came unbidden to her mind. The battle born interacted with all sorts of alien races. He’d have a better chance of knowing someone who could help her than anyone on Earth. But asking for his help meant she’d have to talk to him, be near him, and that was dangerous as long as the pull was still engaged.

The shuttle arrived a few minutes later, so Jenna gave her mother a quick goodbye hug. Drex was not on the small transport, but luckily, the agile little ship was so fast it took less than an hour to reach their destination.

The Bunker didn’t look like much from the air, a small maintenance building and a large nearly empty parking lot. The pilot announced their arrival and a section of the parking lot parted, allowing the small ship to descend into an underground hanger. Jenna shook her head. The U.S. government loved to hide their secret complexes underground. It made them harder to locate and easier to defend.

She thanked the pilot and climbed down from the shuttle. It immediately took off, apparently having other obligations.

A camo-clad guard greeted her in the hanger, then took her carryon bag. “I’ll deliver this to your room. The others are waiting for you.”

That made it sound like she was late, but the shuttle had arrived right on time.

The guard led her through a series of unmarked corridors. With white tile floors and unadorned walls, the hallways all looked the same. They took an elevator to sub-level three and then traversed several more corridors. The compound was clearly large, yet she’d seen nothing yet that warranted subterranean security.

“I hope someone is planning to take me back to the hanger. I’ll never figure this warren out on my own.”

“You’re required to have an escort anywhere you go, ma’am,” the guard casually informed. “Navigation will not be a problem.”

She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or annoyed by the revelation, so she didn’t say anything.

They arrived at their destination a few minutes later. He opened the door and motioned her inside, but remained in the corridor as he closed the door behind her. She stepped into a common-looking conference room. Twelve identical chairs encircled a large, oblong table. To the left a floor-to-ceiling display dominated the entire wall. A scenic slide show was running on the display, likely an automatic screen saver. Morgan sat at the head of the table. The battle born contingent, Drex, General Lux, and Governor Lasenger sat on Morgan’s right. Generals Wendover and Hendrickson sat to Morgan’s left, an empty chair, obviously meant for Jenna, in between them.

“Glad you could make it, Dr. Fermont,” Morgan greeted with subtle criticism.

“Traffic was hell.” The sarcastic reply made the generals smirk and Morgan narrow her gaze. It wasn’t quite a glare, but close enough to warn that Jenna’s humor wasn’t appreciated. She slipped onto the empty chair and set her purse on the floor.

“The past few days have been hectic for all of us,” Morgan began. “Do we need to review where we stood before the interruption?”

Interruption? Jenna almost laughed. Were deadly terrorist attacks so common in Morgan’s life that she considered them no more than an interruption?

“We were hoping the tribunal would deescalate the hostilities,” Sedrik Lux replied. “Clearly that’s not the case. I’m not sure anything that was said before the ‘interruption’ is relevant anymore.”

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who’d been annoyed by Morgan’s phrasing. She looked at Drex, but his rugged features were composed, neutral. It would have been so nice to possess his power, even briefly, so she could understand what went on behind his professional reserve. As if sensing her stare, he looked at her, darker-than-night eyes boring into hers. The corners of his mouth tipped with the barest hint of a smile, then he turned his attention back to Morgan.

“The urgency has increased,” Morgan conceded, “but I’m not sure the basic issues have changed.”

“Do we even agree on what the ‘basic issues’ are?” Raylon Lasenger asked.

That was as far as session two progressed before all hell broke loose. Like a ricocheting bullet, phones started vibrating until everyone at the table was forced to check their messages.

Jenna’s trepidation mounted with each conspicuous moan of someone else’s phone. She pulled her cell out of her pocket and activated the screen. The five-digit alphanumeric code meant she needed to check in with General Hendrickson immediately. Rather than draw his attention, she watched him respond to his messages and waited for an explanation.

Hendrickson looked at Morgan and asked, “How do I send a transmission to this screen?” He motioned toward the massive wall display.

“Send the signal to any of our channels and my people will do the rest.” She was frantically typing on her phone and didn’t even look up as she answered.

General Hendrickson communicated the directive and a few seconds later the wall display came alive. A large spaceship was surrounded by fighter jets actively attempting to blast it out of existence.

“Is this feed live?” Jenna was shocked and horrified by what she was seeing. Why would Earth attack the battle born? Unless this was an entirely new threat. Her gaze snapped to Sedrik. “Is that one of your ships?”

“Yes.” His voice was tense, gaze glued to the display.

“Where’s the Defiant?” Drex asked, equally engrossed in the action. “Did you call off the armed escort?”

“Of course not,” Sedrik snapped. “After New York, I doubled it.”

As if summoned by his claim, two midsized spaceships flew into view, accompanied by another swarm of fighter jets. There had to be twenty, maybe more. The two defender ships engaged the fighter jets, drawing their attention away from the largest ship as often as possible.

“What’s on that ship?” Jenna wanted to know. “Why does it require an armed escort?” And why the hell was Earth trying to destroy it?

“That’s the Harvest,” Drex explained. “Hardest working ship in our fleet. She heads the supply brigade that keeps Lunar Nine operational. That’s the Defiant.” He pointed to one of the smaller ships. “And her sister ship, Defender.”

“Who ordered this?” Morgan demanded, her tone sharp and accusatory. Clearly she sided with the Rodytes on this situation.

“No one,” Hendrickson insisted, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Their transponders have been deactivated. They’re obviously well-coordinated, but they’re rogue. This was not ordered by any official authority within the U.S. government.”

“What about the failsafe?” General Wendover shot Hendrickson an impatient look. “Those systems are redundant.”

Hendrickson made a helpless gesture. “It should have been impossible, but each failsafe has been disabled as well. We have no control over those jets.”

“Well, someone does,” Sedrik snarled, pushing back from the table. “Who has the authority, and the technical knowledge, to accomplish this?”

An explosion drew their attention back to the display. A conflagration burned where one of the fighter jets had been moments before. The other jets responded with immediate aggression, congregating around the Defiant. The larger ship returned fire with apparent desperation, but each barrage from the jets seemed to do more damage than it had moments before.

“Have they lost their shields?” Jenna asked, her stomach tied in knots.

“Yes,” Sedrik admitted with obvious dread.

The Defender split its attention between assisting the Defiant and protecting the Harvest, but the battle was clearly lost. The Defiant exploded a few seconds later. The Harvest and the Defender used the momentary distraction to escape, streaking out of sight in a blur of motion and light.

The fighter jets hesitated, as if they weren’t sure what to do. Then they too departed and the display went blank. For a long, tense moment, no one spoke. Each processed yet another tragedy in his or her own way.

“Why didn’t all three ships just…zap out of danger as soon as they were attacked?” Jenna asked. “There’s no disgrace in retreating to survive.”

“Engaging the hyperspace engines weakens the shields,” Sedrik told her. “They wouldn’t have survived the damage. They needed the distraction to escape.”

A sinking feeling momentarily stole Jenna’s ability to speak. Had the Defiant sacrificed itself for the other two ships? Had it intentionally destroyed a fighter so the other jets would react? The possibility left her conflicted, yet humbled. Why did it take war to bring out that sort of heroism? If more people indulged their heroic tendencies on a daily basis, maybe there would be no need for war.

“How many men were on that ship?” Morgan asked in a quiet, sad voice. She was still staring at the display, her expression haunted.

“One hundred and ninety-three.” Only the tension in Sedrik’s jaw gave away his pain. Then his intense, angry gaze shifted to General Hendrickson and he demanded, “If you didn’t do this, then tell me who did! Someone must be held accountable for this slaughter.”

“It had to be someone well up the chain of command,” Wendover stressed, looking pained and guilty. “It’s almost inconceivable that this type of attack could be orchestrated without official authority. This doesn’t make sense.”

“We’re doing everything in our power to find out,” Hendrickson insisted. “The U.S. military did not attack your ships.”

“Contrary to all visible evidence?” Drex scooted to the edge of his seat, his gaze as intense as Sedrik’s. “Were those your fighters?”

“Yes, but—”

“Whether or not you intentionally gave the order, you are partially responsible. By your own admission, the traitor had to come from among your upper ranks to overcome all the obstacles.”

“And we are frantically working to identify the culprit or culprits. We will get to the bottom of this.”

“All restrictions on the battle born are lifted until you do,” Drex informed as he stood. “The only stipulation we agree to is that the females be willing volunteers. We have tried to accommodate you at every turn and we’ve been met with hostility and violence. Consider these negotiations suspended until further notice.” Easily anticipating his next move, Raylon and Sedrik stood as well and followed Drex from the room.

“Perfect.” Morgan swore under her breath. “Do you honestly have no idea who could have done this?”

“Oh, I have lots of ideas,” Hendrickson replied. “Several high-level officers were directly affected by what happened in L.A. But I need proof before I can take action against a fellow general.”

“Then I suggest you get the proof as quickly as possible.” Morgan was nearly as hostile as the battle born contingent had been.

“Shit,” Wendover muttered, and tossed his phone down on the tabletop. “Do you have a laptop, even a tablet, anything with internet access?”

Morgan left the room, then returned a few minutes later with a tablet computer. She handed it to the general, her expression still grim, yet curious.

Rather than explain, Wendover found what he was looking for and turned the tablet so the others could see the screen. He’d navigated to a website and a video was front and center on the home page. He activated the video with a sigh and a silhouetted image began to speak.

“I am Abaddon, Supreme Leader of the Resistance Force.” The image was an outline, the voice either synthesized entirely or greatly modulated. “RF fighters just destroyed one of the battle born ships. If you don’t believe me, watch.” His shadowy image was replaced by an eyewitness perspective of the fight they’d just seen, complete with the Defiant’s explosion. The recording clearly originated on one of the fighter jets, but how had Abaddon gotten ahold of it so quickly? Abaddon came back on screen, sounding rather smug. “This was a warning. I now control one third of the U.S. military, and we will defend ourselves against this hostile invasion. Earth for humans!” His battle cry rang out as the video ended.

Jenna stared at the generals in horrified disbelief. “Could Abaddon be a rogue general?”

Hendrickson shook his head as he looked at her. “Half an hour ago, I would have laughed at the suggestion. Now, I don’t know.”

But did she? What if Abaddon’s identity was among the images she’d gleaned from Thea’s mind? “Have the Rodytes left the Bunker?” she asked Morgan.

“Not yet, but they’re in the hanger. Why?”

“I need to speak with Drex. Please, ask him not to leave.” Unsure if anything would come of this, she didn’t offer any other explanation.

“He said he’d wait,” Morgan told her. “One of the guards will take you to him.”

She grabbed her purse off the floor and slung the strap over her shoulder. “Thanks.”

After some urging on her part, the guard rushed through the corridors. She did her best to keep up in her high-heeled pumps. Her feet were going to hurt like hell in a couple of hours, but she couldn’t risk Drex changing his mind. She was seriously compromising their dramatic exit.

Sedrik and Raylon had boarded the shuttle, but Drex waited for her in the hanger. “What’s wrong?” He sounded impatient and his tense posture warned that it wasn’t an act. He’d taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, which somehow made him look even more formidable.

“I need your help.” His only response was an upraised brow, so she continued, “Resistance Force just took credit for the attack. They had eyewitness footage from one of the jet fighters, so it’s not just a hollow boast. They were involved.”

“Thank you for the information. What do you need from me?”

Apparently, even stronger emotions were the only cure for the pull. He seemed to be completely unaware of her as a woman for the first time since they met. She cleared her throat, feeling strangely awkward. “One of the RF members came to see me yesterday.”

“What are you talking about?” The implications seemed to hit him and he took a step toward her. “They came to your house?”

She had his attention now. Shock and grief had clearly not abolished his protective instincts. “It was a woman. She was alone and unarmed. I was never in any danger.”

“If they know where you live, you’re coming with me.” He grabbed her upper arm, his hold firm yet careful.

She dug in her heels as well as possible in three-inch heels. “I’m not a fool. I plan to stay here at the Bunker, and I left my security team at my house so they can protect my mother.”

His expression remained grim, but he released her arm.

“Bring her aboard,” Raylon called from inside the shuttle. “We’re only catching enough of this to make us really curious.”

Trepidation clenched her belly at the suggestion. Would they take off without her permission? These were Rodyte males. She’d be a fool to trust them, and yet they had done nothing to deserve the suspicious thought. In fact, if it weren’t for these Rodyte males, she would have bled to death at a hotel in Manhattan.

Drex swept his arm toward the hatch, clearly leaving the decision up to her. Reluctantly, she climbed up the steep stairs and sat in one of the center-facing seats. She waited until Drex sat as well before she went on. “She told me her name was Thea Cline and she’d come to apologize for the attack. She said I wasn’t the target and the Resistance Force was horribly sorry that I’d been hurt.”

“I agree with Drex,” Sedrik said. “Their real message was that they know where you live.”

“Either that or she didn’t get to her real purpose because I touched her arm and my power engaged in an unusually aggressive way.” Neither Raylon, nor Sedrik, seemed surprised to learn that she had powers. Had Drex told them? Rather than dwelling on the possibility, she continued. “An incomprehensible rush of information flowed into my mind. The force of it drove me to my knees and Thea bolted. I’ve tried to probe the images on my own, but I’ve been unsuccessful. Do any of you know someone who can access and control memories?”

For some reason both Sedrik and Drex looked at Raylon. He glanced at one, then the other, before saying, “Chandar can, but…” After a pause, he admitted, “She just realized she’s pregnant, and she’s struggling with everything right now.”

“She doesn’t want the child?” Sedrik sounded confused not judgmental.

Were they talking about Raylon’s mate? Rather than ask, Jenna sat back and let the males talk it out.

“We’re both thrilled about the baby, but Chandar’s afraid she’ll give birth to a harbinger.”

“Her brother is in control of Harbinger Guild now,” Drex pointed out. “Danvier isn’t going to let anyone harm his niece or nephew.”

“As if anyone could get past you anyway.”

Sedrik’s comment made Raylon smile. “My mate will relax, given time. But I’m not going to add to her stress right now.”

“Understood.” Drex glanced at her then asked, “What about Indigo?”

“She could access the memories, but I have a better idea.” Sedrik waited until everyone was looking at him to explain. “We should ask Torrin to download the information into a computer. Then we could manipulate the images ourselves. It would also allow us to run facial recognition and image enhancement.”

“Torrin can actually do that?” Raylon seemed confused. “But he’s Ontarian.”

Sedrik chuckled, then exchanged a conspiratorial look with Drex. Apparently the two knew something that the governor didn’t. “Torrin is half Ontarian and he can do all sorts of things that would keep you up at night. Luckily, he’s one of the good guys.”

Did she really want an alien male who could “do all sorts of things that would keep you up at night” screwing with her mind? “Tell me more about Indigo.”

Drex moved to the seat beside her and took her hand. His fingers felt strong and warm around hers, but it did nothing to relax the tension building inside her. “If Torrin will agree to do this, it will give us many more options. He’s on our side, I promise.”

The problem was, his side wasn’t necessarily her side. “I really think I’d be more comfortable with a female.”

“It’s her choice.”

The warning in Sedrik’s firm tone helped her calm down. As long as they weren’t going to force anything on her, she remained in control.

“Either way, you need to come with us, and we’re leaving now.” Awareness flared back to life in Drex’s gaze and his fingers gave hers a little squeeze.

“Can we make this a daytrip, or should I go get my suitcase?” she asked with a nervous smile. Being as far away from the Resistance Force as possible held undeniable appeal. Besides, even if she was reluctant to admit the fact, she and Drex had unfinished business to address.

Drex thought for a second, then looked at Raylon who was seated in the pilot’s seat, “Ask Morgan to have a runner fetch Jenna’s things. The transfer should only take a matter of minutes, but there’s no telling where the images will lead.”