Alpha Hunter (21 page)

“Ma’am
,” he greeted, inadvertently giving Angie a glimpse of the room behind him. Compact and functional, aka claustrophobic.

“That’s Kris,” Tori told her
once they’d moved beyond the soldier. “His specialty is navigation and blowing stuff up.”

Angie
smiled. “Interesting combination.”

“All of the soldiers are quiet
compared to the Mystics. Well, except for Dekker. He’s as big a smartass as Odintar.”

“So Lor, Blayne and Odintar are the three Mystics?”

“And the soldiers are Dekker, Kris and Sid.” Tori motioned toward the metal stairs on their right. “The galley is on the upper deck. I’m not sure where Lor is going to put you. The ship is sort of crowded as it is.”

Angie tensed and stopped walking. “Why can’t I just go home?”

“I’m honestly not sure what Lor has in mind, but I doubt your apartment will be an option.”

Mentally grumbling, Angie followed Tori up the stairs. She didn’t want to be separated from Blayne. He was her mentor after all and they still needed… Who was she kidding? Her longing for Blayne had little to do with their training sessions.

“You want me to do what?” Angie didn’t recognize the deep voice, but he spoke English with an Ontarian accent.

Odintar
sat at the galley’s only table, a U-shaped booth. Blayne stood beside the booth, glaring down at the other Mystic, so it stood to reason that Odintar had asked the question. Odintar’s sculpted features were expressionless, but Angie spotted humor in his dark eyes. Tori had said one of the soldiers was as big a smartass as Odintar. Was the Mystic having fun at Blayne’s expense?

“I’m going to show you a series of images and I want you to sketch what I show you.”
Blayne’s tone was as tight as his stance.

“I prefer live model
s.” Odintar looked beyond Blayne and winked at Angie. “Can’t she just undress?”

“
This isn’t funny, asshole. I need you to—” Blayne whipped his head around as Odintar scooted out of the booth and crossed to the women.

“We haven’t been properly introduced.” Odintar took
Angie’s hand between his and gazed deep into her eyes. “I’m Odintar Voss.”

Were all Ontarian men gorgeous or was it just the Mystics? Odintar’s
hands were warm and strong, and his gaze was endlessly black. His dark hair had been cut short on the sides while the top was a bit longer. He had stronger features than Blayne. Still, both men were undeniably handsome.

“Angie.” Her voice sounded hushed and heat crawled up along her throat.

Blayne pulled her hand out from between Odintar’s and warned the other man off with a heated glare.

“He’s just pissing you off,” Tori said to Blayne. “It’s Odintar’s favorite game.”

“If Angie will accompany me to my cabin, I’ll teach her my favorite game.” Odintar punctuated the taunt with a slow, sexy smile.

“
Are you finished slobbering all over my ma-apprentice? I really do need you to do some sketches for me.”

Tori looked at Angie, brows arched in silent question. She’d obviously heard Blayne’s slip.
Are you two—

We’re together
,
Angie admitted with a guilty smile.
More than that, I’m just not sure.

Tori
smiled a shrewd sort of happiness gleaming in her eyes.
I knew you’d like him. I’m so glad things are finally working out for you.

Things
hadn’t yet “worked out” as far as Angie was concerned. She was in the middle of a scorching-hot affair, but the future was still uncertain. Even so, she was in too good a mood to start a fight.

Odintar and Blayne had returned to the booth, Blayne sitting across from Odintar this time. “So what am I drawing?”

Blayne looked at Angie, compassion warming his expression. “Three very bad men.”

Angie had wondered what Blayne intended to do with the images.
Being able to describe their appearance hadn’t seemed like much of a lead.

Tori followed the exchange with obvious interest, but didn’t pester them with questions.

“Go on. I’m ready.” Odintar had a thin device in front of him. It looked similar to a tablet computer, but an animated menu scrolled across the top edge, the icons and lettering unfamiliar. He was holding some sort of stylus. His gaze turned vacant for just a second as Blayne transmitted the first image and then Odintar began to draw.

The first man’s image formed with unbelievable speed and accuracy. Odintar was either an extremely talented artist or he was using some sort of Mystic ability to guide his hand. As the man’s features became more
and more detailed, Angie had to look away. The vision had helped her turn loose of the past, but the wounds still ached.

Tori touched her shoulder, but Angie kept her face averted, unwilling to subject herself to the pity and disgust undoubtedly shadowing her sister’s gaze. “Is he the one who…”

“One of them,” Angie whispered then cringed when she heard Tori sob.

“There was more than one?” She pulled Angie into a maternal hug, but Angie knew it was Tori who needed reassurance.

“It’s okay.” She stroked Tori’s hair, amazed that she actually meant the phrase for the first time ever. “This will hurt for a while, but it will help me find closure.”

Tori
looked at her, chin quivering, tears streaming down her face. “I am so sorry. I hate myself for not protecting you.”

“No one is to blame but the animals that hurt me.” Again she was shocked by the
conviction in her own words. She had heard them so often from others, but she was finally starting to believe. “You did nothing wrong and neither did I.” She glanced at Blayne over Tori’s shoulder. He smiled, obviously pleased by her attitude.

“Is this close?” Odintar drew the image upward with a pulling motion and the sketch became three
-dimensional.

“Wow.” Angie eased
away from Tori and approached the table. “That is really cool. His nose was wider, but that’s damn good.”

“Why thank you, lovely lady.” He adjusted the nose and looked to her for approval.

She nodded. “That’s better.”

“Anything else?”

“No. That looks just like him.” She crossed her arms over her chest, fighting back the memories. Even though the past could no longer control her, it didn’t make the events any less abhorrent. “Actually it looks just like he did when it happened, but that was years ago. How is this going to help us find him now?”

“We have software that can
accurately age him and then we’ll have Morgan run the morphed image through her facial recognition databases,” Blayne explained. “When it comes to humans, her information is more accurate than ours.”

“Morgan?”

“The Woman in Black,” Tori reminded.

Angie just nodded, ready to think about something else.

“So what did these dirtbags do?” Odintar asked as he began the second sketch. A tense silence followed, so he looked up from his gadget then quickly shook his head. “None of my business. Forget I asked.”

“They raped
me when I was fifteen.” Angie waited for the staggering emotional surge that always followed thoughts of that night. Miraculously it never came. A horrible thing had been done to her. She couldn’t change the event. It would always be part of her psyche, but never again would she take ownership of the crime.

Blayne scooted out of the booth and reached for Angie
, approval and compassion shining in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” she assured, but went willingly into his arms.
The pain was muted now, less cutting than it had ever been before.

“We’ll find them.” The steely determination in Odintar’s tone was all too familiar.
“No one hurts one of our women and gets away with it.”

Remaining within the circle of Blayne’s arms, Angie turned and faced the other Mystic. “And then what? What happens to rapists on Ontariese?”

“Crimes are easily proven when prosecutors can scan the defendant’s memory. Trials generally last hours, not weeks,” Odintar told her.

“And then what?” she persisted. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Ontarian females have always been treasured, but the Great Conflict made any form of abuse intolerable,” Odintar evaded.

That
was right. Even decades after the war’s end, there were many more men on Ontariese than women. It stood to reason that they would be extremely protective of their females. “Spell it out for me. What will happen to these dirtbags if you take them to Ontariese?”

“
When
we take them to Ontariese, they will have a choice between surgical or Mystic rehabilitation.” Blayne finally answered her question, though his statement was still vague. “Most chose Mystic.”

“Surgical?
As in castration?”

“Violence begins in the mind.” Blayne moved his hands to her shoulders and lightly squeezed. “That’s where the alteration is made.”

Their idea of rehabilitation sounded a lot like a lobotomy. But Ontarian technology was much more sophisticated than anything here on Earth. Besides, the dirtbags had permanently altered her life. Why shouldn’t she permanently alter theirs? She refused to feel sorry for those animals. “And what does Mystic rehabilitation entail?”

Odintar looked at Blayne for a long, silent moment
. Was he asking permission? Apparently Blayne gave it because Odintar said, “First they share in their victim’s pain. They are subjected to everything the victim experienced and more.”

She’d always thought punishment should fit the crime, but her moral compass
started spinning. “How is that accomplished without turning someone else into a rapist?”

Blayne gave her
another gentle squeeze. “They’re literally inundated with the victim’s memories and sensations. Certain Mystics can access such memories without further traumatizing the victim.”

“Good to know.
” She remained tense beneath his hands. “What happens next?”

“
The ultimate goal is rehabilitation, but we also believe in punishment,” Odintar told her. “Rape is a vile crime and there must be a reckoning.” She just nodded, so he went on. “Once they’re filled with regret and shame, they start an extensive course of behavioral modification. Criminals are only released once everyone involved is convinced they have permanently changed.”

If she hadn’t exchanged memories and projected her being from one planet to another
, she never would have believed such a thing was possible. As Tori had said, a lot had happened in just two weeks. “Will they be allowed to return to Earth?”

Odintar shook his head. “One of the conditions of their release will be
technological supervision for the rest of their lives. Their movements will be traced, their behavior monitored. The program is highly successful, but not perfect.”

“Besides, r
eturning to Earth after exposure to our world is an unacceptable risk when someone’s basic character is in doubt,” Blayne added.

She accepted the information with a nod
then turned around. “I don’t want to sit here and dwell on this. I’ll take a look at the other two drawings once he’s finished with them. Do you know where we’ll be staying?”

“Lor said something about the
Bunker, but that’s all he said.”

“I’ll take her to my cabin,” Tori
offered. “We could use some girl time anyway.”

Tori’s cabin was larger than the one Angie had seen on her way to the galley, but not by much.
Hopefully the Bunker would be more accommodating. “I never thought I’d find a place that made my apartment seem spacious.”

“I
’m sure anywhere would feel cramped after being Lord Drakkin’s guest.”

She said the name with an odd reverence.
“Do you know him?”

Tori shook her head
and motioned Angie toward the small round table in one corner of the compact room. “Lor told me about him. He sounds very impressive.”

“He was impressive.” She sat down facing her sister, content just to chat. “Bilarri was beautiful, and seeing Aria again was such a treat. She always fascinated me. I’m really glad she’s
okay.”

“
How did she end up on Bilarri? And mated with Lord Drakkin?”

“You know the wig and stage makeup that made her
character so amazing?” Tori nodded and Angie grinned. “That’s her actual appearance. Apparently, she has some rare and powerful gift, and Drakkin was sent to Earth by her father to protect and train her. It was a long convoluted story.”

“
Aren’t they all? Did she seem happy?”

Angie laughed. “Why wouldn’t she be? She married Bilarrian royal
ty.” Tori just smiled, so Angie added, “Speaking of which, Blayne told me about Lor.”

“What about him?”

“That he’s an Ontarian prince.”

“Prince is a human term. Besides, Lor’s father passed away recently so he is now head of the royal House of Joon.”