Jordan (33 page)

She sucked in a deep breath. “Are you saying you couldn’t read him?”

“Something blocked me. Too much alcohol or drugs.”

She shook her head. “I saw his eyes. Trust me, that man can think like a computer.”

“Yeah, his intelligence is off the charts.” Jordan crossed a bridge. “The hartog’s house… that was Trendonis’s home. And the
Grail’s there. I managed to pick up that much before Trendonis shut me down.”

“Why do you choose your words so carefully when you speak of the Tribe leader?”

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps it’s the only way to control my hatred.” He took her hand and squeezed. “My father worked for the Dominus Defense
Department, and he and his coworkers specialized in maintaining a planetary shield that could stop the weapons that destroyed
Dominus. I wasn’t supposed to speak about his work to anyone. But in a casual comment I mentioned to a friend that my father
worked on the Hill.”

“The Hill?”

“A nickname for his job location. Like your CIA calls their headquarters the Farm.” Jordan gathered his thoughts. “Anyway,
after that comment, it wasn’t difficult for the Tribes to follow my father to work, infiltrate the Hill, and turn off the
planetary defense system.”

“So you link that casual comment to the destruction of your world?”

“Trendonis was my best friend. I should have suspected. I should have known he wasn’t who he claimed.” He held her gaze a
moment too long, then turned away, plainly unwilling to reveal any more of his guilt.

“How could you know?” she asked, softly, stunned he’d carried this burden for so long.

Her tenderness only seemed to make him be harder on himself. “Because I overheard him send a transmission once. And when I
questioned him about it, he told me he was simply sending messages to the stars, hoping someone would hear him. And fool that
I was, I believed him.”

“Of course you believed him. He was your friend.”

She raised her hand to her mouth, her mind swirling at the implications. No wonder Jordan’s determination to stop Trendonis
had burned for centuries. Trendonis had befriended him, used him, and then destroyed his world.

“How did you and Trendonis meet?” she asked, realizing that for Jordan to feel such guilt, he had to feel responsible.

“At school. I suspect he was much older than he led me to believe.”

“So he took advantage of your youth.”

“Youth is not an excuse for stupidity,” Jordan replied.

She ached for his loss, his pain. To carry that burden on his shoulders for centuries was too much for any man to bear. A
man with less inner strength might have given up, gone mad. But Jordan had fought at King Arthur’s side against the Tribes,
and although they’d defeated them soundly, it wasn’t enough. Jordan wouldn’t be satisfied until Trendonis was stopped for
good.

Even if Jordan succeeded, would he ever forgive himself? Would he be able to stop punishing himself and allow himself some
happiness?

She wasn’t thinking straight. If Jordan succeeded in uniting the Staff and the Grail, he would die. For him, the grim reality
of success was death.

Still, she wished to ease his pain. “Jordan, you made a mistake anyone could make. But even if you hadn’t mentioned your father’s
line of work, Trendonis would have found another way to ruin Dominus. It was an accident that he used your slip up against
your world.”

“That’s true.” His voice was angry, sad, and hard. “But it’s still a stain on my soul. All those billions of lives winked
out in one giant flash of light. All of them dead. What the Tribes cannot dominate, they destroy.” Jordan’s eyes blazed.

“Now they’re after Earth.” She squeezed his hand, and for the first time since they’d landed on Pentar, she felt strength
and a certainty of purpose flowing through her. “We’re going to find the Grail and stop him.”

Don’t let someone become a priority in your life when you are just an option in their life. Relationships work best when balanced.

—Q
UEEN
M
ARISA

S
top him? Jordan would have liked nothing better than to kill the son of a bitch. But he couldn’t risk losing the Grail for
the personal satisfaction of seeing Trendonis dead.

Vivianne must have sensed his banked rage. “What’s wrong?”

He turned the conversation to a new concern. “Trendonis shut me out back there, and if it wasn’t drugs or alcohol, I’d love
to know how he did it.”

Vivianne walked beside him. “You think it’s a natural ability, or some kind of artificial force field?”

“At first Trendonis was open to me.”

“That’s when you saw the Grail in his mind?” she asked.

He nodded. “Just as I skimmed the surface, Trendonis snapped up the barrier.”

“So he felt you in his head?”

“Or his mental blocks rise automatically and naturally, or…”

“Or he has a device that can shut you down?”

“It’s possible. He spent enough time on my world. The adults would have known about his plan to destroy us unless Trendonis
had had a way to hide his thoughts.”

“None of these other people on Pentar have shown any indication of possessing a mental shield, have they?”

“No.” Something niggled in the back of Jordan’s mind. “Actually, I have encountered that kind of shield before.”

“Really?”

“Back on Arcturus, Arthur was also totally unreadable. At the time, I was still unskilled and didn’t know I could read almost
everyone’s minds.”

“You assumed you could read me because of the blue lights?”

“Yes. But now I’m thinking that Arthur must have had the same kind of shield as Trendonis.”

Vivianne squeezed his hand as they turned a corner. “Doesn’t it seem odd to you that Arthur and Trendonis both have the same
technology or same genetic trait?”

“It’s as suspicious as blue hell.”

“Blue hell?”

“A Dominus expression for—” Jordan pulled her into the shadows. “Sh.”

Vivianne stood quietly as a squad of Security passed by, their lights sweeping the sidewalks. Jordan perused their minds as
the vehicle passed. The low-level operatives were only following orders to patrol the sector, and he picked up nothing useful.

“We’re almost there,” he whispered. “Let’s hurry.”

Trendonis’s mansion loomed in the moonlight, and Jordan paused to sweep the interior. “A maid’s sleeping in the chamber over
the garage. Two men and the hartog are in a secret room that connects to Trendonis’s home office.”

“Are there alarms?” Vivianne peered through the landscaped back yard to the double glass doors that overlooked a patio at
the rear of the house.

“Trendonis will have a security system.”

“What about the hartog?” Vivianne reminded him.

“It’s dreaming about running free.”

“Can you read insects and birds, too?” she asked.

“Don’t know. Maybe. Why?” He braced for a sarcastic comment. He didn’t have to read her mind to know his new self made her
uneasy.

“We could use a lookout.”

Her practicality made him grin. It wouldn’t hurt to tap into the wildlife. But as he sent his mind outward, to his surprise,
he encountered nothing. “Either I can only read higher life forms, or there’s no wildlife.”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any birds,” she murmured as they crossed the patio toward the back doors. Then she stopped,
pointed, and whispered, “See those wires? Give me a minute and I’ll disconnect the alarm.”

Vivianne was sophisticated and educated. She was so polished and independent, he tended to forget that she had street skills,
too. That she’d been able to pick a lock since childhood.

She pulled a multitool from a hidden compartment in her handheld. “This should work.”

It took her less than twenty seconds to disable the alarm.

“Good work.” He reached for the door.

She pulled him back. “Not so fast.”

“What?”

“That was too easy. We’re talking about the Holy Grail. If Trendonis is as smart as you say, he’ll have motion detectors,
hidden surveillance cameras, audio and infrared warning devices, possibly temperature sensors, too. I’m betting there’s a
transmitter nearby, and I need to disable it before we move in.”

“Hold on a sec.” He scanned the guards’ minds. “The guards don’t know anything,” he reported, “but a few months ago, one of
them noted a suspicious box on the roof. When he went to investigate, he was told to stay away, that it was for Trendonis’s
communications with his spaceships.”

“Call me impressed.” Vivianne headed toward a tree with thick branches that would allow an easy climb to the roof. “You pulled
out all that in just a few seconds?”

Jordan gave her a boost up to the first branch. “The guards are worried.”

“Why?” Vivianne scampered up the tree.

“Trendonis put them on alert.”

“That’s not good.” Vivianne pulled herself onto the roof.

By the time he climbed up beside her, she’d already picked the lock on the box. She shined a tiny penlight inside. Light reflected
back on her face. Eyes focused, she traced several wires. “More bad news.”

“What’s wrong?”

“If I cut this wire, it automatically sends an alarm.”

“No problem. I can follow the signal. Whoever receives it will take a nap.”

She didn’t hesitate. She snipped two wires and disconnected a third. Jordan let his mind flow with the signal, curious where
it would lead. Trendonis was using a private security firm. Interesting choice. Apparently he didn’t trust the local authorities
or the military.

Jordan put the man to sleep and withdrew. “We’re good to go. You ready?”

“Have you taken care of the guards inside?”

“Not yet. I want to wait until the last moment in case Trendonis calls to check in.”

“Good idea.” Vivianne climbed down the tree and jumped the last few feet, landing like a cat on the back deck and making almost
no sound.

He swung down behind her, expecting to land in the dark. Instead, spotlights shot on, blinding him from half a dozen angles.

Experience is what causes a person to make new mistakes instead of old ones.

—A
LBERT
E
INSTEIN

V
ivianne swore. She’d disconnected the entire alarm system, but she’d forgotten the lights. Not part of the alarm, these lights
were simply there for convenience. Nevertheless, she and Jordan no longer had the element of surprise.

Stomach dancing up her throat, she lunged toward a window, knocked out a pane of glass, unlatched the lock, and climbed through.
Jordan followed.

From deep inside the mansion, she heard the hartog making noises that sounded like a seal barking. Jordan sprinted past her
and straight down a hallway lined with photographs. Adrenaline pumping, she raced after him.

Rounding a corner, she sped straight through an elaborate office with a huge desk, polished steel cabinets, and several bronzed
sculptures. Skidding to a halt on the slick granite floor, she almost bumped into Jordan, who had halted to press his ear
to the door.

A chill of fear swept over her. Why wasn’t he scanning ahead with his mind?

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’ve knocked out the guards, but the hartog isn’t susceptible to my power.”

Vivianne glanced around the office. A clear jar with blue twigs inside caught her eye. She grabbed it, twisted open the lid,
and smelled. Hartog treats?

She couldn’t be certain. The sticks might be breath mints or decoration or medicine. “Open the door.”

Jordan cracked it, and from inside, the hartog whined. Just before the animal pounced, she tossed a handful of the blue twigs
inside. The hartog snorted, crunched, and slurped happily, and she grinned.

Jordan pulled his blaster and reopened the door. The hartog paid no attention to them—he was too busy scarfing down his treats.
Beyond the munching hartog, two guards sprawled on the floor, out cold thanks to Jordan.

Vivianne followed him inside and gasped. Antiquities from every age, planet, and race decorated the high-ceilinged room. Surreal
paintings, beautifully proportioned statues, sculpted objects, and delicate carvings in wood, stone, and meteorite decorated
this windowless inner sanctum.