Page 35 of Jarran

When he pulled back, the headache had changed. The drilling pressure was gone, replaced by something different. A sensation at the front of his mind, just behind his forehead. Pushing. Steady and deliberate, like a hand pressing on a closed door from the other side.

“Something is wrong,” he said.

Evie straightened. “The headache?”

“It’s different now. It feels like…” He searched for the words. “Like something is trying to get in. Pushing against my mind.”

Her expression shifted. The softness left her face and the clinician emerged, sharp and alert. She reached for his head, her fingers probing the base of his skull where the implant sat. “The implant. Can you feel it?”

“Yes. But it’s⁠—”

The lock on the suite door disengaged and they both froze. Footsteps crossed the outer room. Multiple sets. Boots on polished floor.

Jarran was on his feet before he finished the thought, pulling Evie behind him, putting his body between her and the bathroom doorway. His muscles locked. The old instincts fired, sharp and immediate, and he hated that they were Pella Rin’s instincts. He used them anyway because the only thought in his addled mind was keeping Evie safe.

Durik appeared in the bathroom archway. Two of the hybrid females flanked him, tall and blank-faced, standing at attention with weapons holstered at their hips. His pale eyes swept the scene. Jarran, shirtless and tear-streaked, standing barefoot on the tile. Evie behind him, still in her sleep clothes, one hand gripping the back of his arm.

Durik’s mouth curved.

“Behold,” he said to his companions. “The great Pella Rin, barefoot and trembling in a bathroom.”

FIFTEEN

Evie couldn’t imagine a worse time for this particular visitor.

Durik filled the bathroom archway, his tail swishing. Two hybrid females came with him, tall and expressionless. His pale eyes moved over Jarran, taking in the bare chest, the damp face, the bare feet on the tile. Then his gaze shifted to Evie, and she bristled at the calculation and cruelty she saw there. Not an ounce of empathy.

Jarran’s arm was rigid under her hand. Tension had locked every muscle. He hadn’t responded, but simply stood between her and Durik, saying nothing.

Durik leaned against the archway frame and crossed his arms, looking casual, almost amused. “The memories came back, then.” He cocked his head and sniffed. “Yes, I can smell they did. Good. That’s good.”

Evie’s stomach dropped.

“What do you mean, good?” she demanded.

Durik’s eyes glittered. He was enjoying this conversation way too much. It was as if he’d been rehearsing it. “I mean I’ve been waiting for this. I stimulated the implant remotely, then ramped up the signal in stages. The headaches, the nausea.” He waved a hand. “All me.”

A low growl came from Jarran, like a warning signal, but it didn’t seem like Durik was going to acknowledge it.

Evie’s mind was churning this new info. Stimulated remotely. The bastard had found a way to hack into the Baylan device and use it for himself.

“You caused the memory flood,” she said.

“I accelerated it.” Durik shrugged. “The memories were there. Walled off, as I’m sure you explained to him with your medical expertise. The implant broke the walls down. All I needed was a catalyst.”

He looked at Evie. Held her gaze.

“You, specifically, must have done it. He’s so very taken with you. The implant was primed and waiting for an emotional trigger. You walked right into it.”

She heard the words and cold fury settled into the base of her throat because she understood what he was saying: He’d used her to trigger Jarran’s memory flood. Her hands on his face in the dark bathroom. Her voice saying his name. Durik had set the trap and she had sprung it.

Jarran’s voice came out flat. “You left the implant in my head.”

“Yes, I changed my mind about that.” Durik sounded genuinely surprised by the statement. “Why remove such a useful tool? Since you’re so resistant to my demands, the implant stays. I’ve engineered a control device for it. As long as that hardware sits at the base of your skull, I can activate it, suppress it, cause you pain with it.” He cocked his head. “Think of it as a leash.”

Evie watched Jarran’s fists clench at his sides and his shoulders pull back. The cords of his neck stood out. He was furious. She’d never seen him look quite like this. It wasn’t Pella Rin surfacing. It was Jarran, fully present, fully aware, and enraged.

“You should be thanking me,” Durik continued. “You have your memories back. You know who you are. Granted, the delivery method was unpleasant, but results matter more than process. You taught me that, actually.”