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“Damn,” Ansley muttered under her breath. “It would have been really interesting if you could have flipped him.”
“Who is Verbet?” It was the only name Eden hadn’t recognized. Udora was Mistress Air, spiritual leader of Pyron. And everyone knew Jevara was the amoral emperor of Torret.
“Verbet is Jevara’s half-brother,” Ansley told her. “It was his ship that exploded while we were on our way to the Citadel.”
Eden felt her mouth O as she remembered the incident. All she’d known at the time was that something had happened that violently rocked Cylex’s ship. She found out later that a Torretian ship had been waiting to ambush Neloff as he came out of hyperspace, but they hadn’t expected Cylex’s massive warship to follow. The fight had been over in a matter of minutes because a lucky shot caused the Torretian ship to explode. Everyone felt horrible about the needless loss of lives, but the Torretians were the aggressors, and the explosion had been an accident.
“Why were you interested in Jevara’s half-brother?” Eden asked Zevon.
“They have always had a love/hate relationship. And as with many siblings, they are extremely competitive. I was hoping to capitalize on the rivalry.” Zevon rubbed the back of his neck as he admitted, “Recruiting Verbet was a long shot at best. Let’s focus on rescuing Neloff. Udora said that Verbet’s condition is still serious. We might be able to use the distraction to our advantage.”
“If you can get us inside the palace, we will do the rest,” Jobek told Zevon. “We were assigned to the detention level during our stint in the Torretian military, so we’re very familiar with the layout and potential weaknesses.”
Zevon studied him for a moment before he responded. “Your familiarity is useful, but your triad is new and your emotional connection to the target is a disadvantage.”
“I disagree.” Ansley’s firm tone made Zevon arch his brows. “My mates will rescue their brother or die trying.”
“That’s what concerns me.” Zevon turned and looked at Eden for the first time. “Is the mind link still active?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer. She could still feel the connection, but she wasn’t sure Neloff would respond to her now. Their last conversation made it obvious that he had given up and was preparing himself for death. Rather than complicate things with a lengthy explanation, she just nodded.
“Then you need to be part of this mission,” he stated emphatically.
“Why?” Ansley objected, her concerned gaze snapping toward Eden. “She’s still latent. This is guaranteed to be dangerous.”
Zevon waved away her concerns. “Then leave her on the ship, but it’s very likely that Neloff has been moved by now. Jevara never leaves important prisoners in one place for long. By the time you reach Torret, you will need a way to locate Neloff. Eden is your best bet.”
“I have a link with him too,” Tandor reminded. “We both do.” He indicated Jobek.
“Yet Eden is the only one who was aware of his peril,” Zevon countered.
“I don’t like it either, pet,” Jobek said softly as he reached over and entwined his fingers with Ansley’s. “But Zevon is right. If Jevara has moved Neloff, we need a way to find him.”
“I want to go,” Eden said firmly. “I will gladly stay on the ship, but it will be much better than hanging out here and helplessly wringing my hands.”
Ansley shot her an impatient look. “You’ve never wrung your hands in your life, but it sounds like I’m out voted.”
“You are taking your own ship?” Zevon asked.
Jobek nodded. “It’s small and unassuming. I have trader credentials that are not associated with theMadelle. I’ll use them to request clearance. No one will give us a second thought.”
Zevon nodded. “Land the ship in one of the commercial lots. I’ll have one of my operatives come pick you up.”
“You’re not going to be able to just walk Neloff out a side exit,” Eden warned. “He was in really rough shape. It’s unlikely he’ll be able to walk at all.”
“I can trigger teleportation remotely,” Jobek assured her. “We just have to get him beyond the shielded sections of the palace.”
A tense pause followed until Zevon asked, “Is there anything else you need from me?”
“No, sir,” Jobek concluded. “The rest is up to us.”
* * *
Throbbing pain dragged Verbet out of the abyss. He inhaled deeply, expecting the scent of candles and the faint cadence of chanting. Instead, he heard mechanical beeping and the astringent scent of antiseptic assailed his nose. Where the hells was he? Reluctantly blinking until his surroundings came into view, he looked around. Every move he made intensified the incessant throbbing.
“Oh, goodness, you’re awake. I’ll go get the doctor.” The female departed so quickly that all Verbet saw was her back.
She’d spoken high Torretian. Was he back on Torret or had she simply presumed that was his language because of his appearance?
