Psi Hunter (Guardians of the Pattern, Book 1)

Psi Hunter

Guardians of the Pattern, Book 1

Published by Mythe Weaver Press

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Jaye McKenna

All Rights Reserved

Cover Art by Chinchbug

Copyright 2014 Chinchbug

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Words of Caution

This story contains sexually explicit material and describes sexual relations between men. It is intended for adult readers.

Dedication

For Husband Beast,

who always believed.

Psi Hunter

Guardians of the Pattern, Book 1

by

Jaye McKenna

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Other Works

Coming Soon

Series Info

Acknowledgments

Author Bio

Contact Info

Book Description

Chapter One

Daran was running for his life. Adrenaline pumped through him, bringing all his senses online, forcing him to experience every moment with razor-sharp clarity. Dirty, chemical-laced rain hit his skin and mixed with his sweat, running down his face in stinging, acid trails. The scent of his own fear was heavy in the air, and his heartbeat was a fast bass line hammering through his skull.

The footsteps pounding on the pavement behind him drew closer. His lungs burned with every breath he managed to drag into them, and his legs trembled and cramped. Daran reached deep for the last dregs of energy. He was certain he had nothing left, but his body surprised him, responding with a burst of speed.

He shouldn’t have let Alysia talk him into meeting her at the damned club. The Mirage was supposed to be neutral territory, but it was just his luck three of the Vipers were there and one of them had recognized him.

Farro would fucking kill him if he found out he’d taken a risk like that over a girl.

Right now, though, he’d take whatever punishment Farro wanted to give him if he could just get away. Seven of the Scorpions were dead, and he was not going to be number eight.

He dared not waste the few seconds it would take to look back and see how close his pursuers were. Up ahead, the streetlights were out for a long stretch. For the first time since he’d been spotted in the club, he felt a tiny spark of hope kindle in his heart. Maybe he could lose them in the darkness. Maybe—

He plunged into the shadows, ran past the first two alleys he saw, and ducked into the third. A dark wall loomed up in front of him. He stumbled to a stop just before he ran into it. Behind him the footsteps slowed.

End of the line, loser!

Your ass is mine now, Scorpion!

Shit, shit, shit…

Daran threw himself against the wall and scrabbled for a handhold. The scarred brick was too smooth to scale, too high to jump. He turned around, putting the wall at his back. Lightning cut through the darkness, revealing three approaching figures. Thunder rumbled close enough for him to feel the vibration through the soles of his sneakers. When the next flash of lightning bathed the alley in stark white light, Daran scanned his surroundings, seeking anything that might aid him — a dumpster, a fire escape, something he could use as a weapon.

There was nothing.

Three on one, and himself unarmed… he was fucked.

The shakes started as the three dark figures drew closer. Part of it was the protest of muscles pushed beyond the limits of endurance. Part of it… Daran shuddered and shrank back, trying to push himself into the wall, wishing it would suck him in and spit him out on the other side.

The high-pitched whine of a stun-shot cut through the air. A split-second later, a tingling numbness splashed across his chest and radiated out. His body went cold and his mind went blank. Blackness swallowed him long before he hit the pavement.

Deep, penetrating cold and the sound of voices nearby called him back out of the dark. He had no sense of how long he’d been out, but he wasn’t in the alley anymore. His clothing was still wet from the rain, and he was lying on a cement floor, his back against a concrete wall. Dim light came from somewhere above, illuminating the empty space around him. Where the light started to bleed into shadow, he saw two figures. He struggled to get up, but stopped as he realized that he was bound, ankles together and hands behind him.

He’s awake. The voice was deep and rough. The taller of the two gave the smaller one a push and they moved forward.

Adrenaline burned through Daran as they came close enough for him to make out their features. There was something familiar about the smaller one, who was trying to hang back. She was slender and pale, and had silky black hair hanging down to her ass. Damn pretty, she was, but he couldn’t place her. When he shifted his attention to the taller one, his blood ran cold. That one he knew.

Rufio. Tall, dark, and cold as ice.

Leader of the Vipers and Farro’s sworn enemy.

God, he was so fucked.

Rufio hauled the girl forward with a grip on her arm that looked both painful and possessive. Do it, Shadow. Rufio shoved her forward. She stumbled into the light, just catching her balance.

Rufio, please, I can’t… the walls…

It wasn’t a girl’s voice, and that was all the kick Daran’s memory needed. This was the kid Rufio had almost gone to war over last year. Farro had caught him, and the Scorpions had beaten him bloody. Last Daran had seen of him, the kid had been bent over a table in a dark basement while the gang took turns fucking him until he couldn’t even scream anymore.

I don’t want to hear about your fucking walls, Shadow. Do it or I give you to Ty for the night. Rufio’s voice was a low, dangerous growl.

The kid squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered.

Kill him, Rufio prompted. An assassin that won’t kill ain’t worth shit to me.

Assassin? If Daran hadn’t been so scared, he might have laughed. Farro didn’t have a clue — he’d said the kid was Rufio’s lover.

Ice-green eyes opened and stared down at Daran. Tears slid down the kid’s cheeks as he whispered, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…

Daran wondered why he would apologize for taking the vengeance that was surely owed him. A moment later, something hot and sharp reached deep into him. Lightning shot down his spine, turning every nerve into a conduit for searing pain. He felt himself convulsing, felt the lines of agony spreading and burning, feathering through his flesh and turning into a network of fire that he could not escape no matter how much he struggled.

Every nerve in his body was aflame, burning him up from the inside out.

Screams filled his ears, and the last thing Daran’s dying mind registered was a whisper of regret that somehow reached him through the pain: I’m sorry…

* * *

Pat Cottrell hesitated outside his supervisor’s door, torn between meekly accepting whatever new pronouncement Iverson was about to hand down, and tearing a verbal strip out of the man. Most of the investigations he’d worked on during his career as a psi hunter had at least started out with him feeling like he was on top of things. This one had gone to hell before he’d even left the planet.

He took a deep breath and let it out, willing the taut muscles in his shoulders to relax. It didn’t help. Meek acceptance wasn’t going to win this time.

Pat pushed open the door and stared his boss down. You can’t possibly be serious about this, he said. Alek and I have worked together for four years. We know each other’s strengths and weaknesses; we can anticipate each other’s moves.

Pat—

You’re already pushing it. There’s no way I can be properly prepared in the time you’re giving me before I ship out. And now you want to pair me up with a total stranger? You cannot expect to have a fully functional psi hunter team under those conditions.

Neil Iverson shifted his long, lanky frame to lean back in his chair. He returned Pat’s glare with a slight frown. With Alek on emergency leave, I’m out of options. This investigation is too high priority to scrub, and there isn’t another team available.

I’d be better off alone. I don’t need some stranger tagging along and getting in my way. I’m perfectly capable of conducting a murder investigation on my own. If I have any problems, I can get backup from the FedSec office in Riga.

Psionic backup? Neil regarded him intently. Did you even read the briefing? You’re investigating a string of gang-related deaths in downside Riga. Deaths that may well have been caused by a psion powerful enough to kill. Sending you in alone would be gross negligence on my part. No, you’ll have a partner. Neil gestured toward the conference table on the other side of the room. "And give me some credit; I’m hardly sending you out with a total stranger."

Pat turned and froze as he caught sight of the man sitting at the conference table. His first look at Kyn Valdari in three years went right to his gut. Kyn had always looked damn good, and that hadn’t changed. The shaggy, honey-blond hair was a little longer than Pat remembered it, and the day’s worth of stubble gave Kyn a roguish look that made Pat’s heart beat faster. Arctic-blue eyes locked onto Pat’s face, then slid away to focus on Neil.

Pat bit into his cheek to stop himself from reacting. He managed to keep his expression impassive, but he could do nothing about the thrill that flashed through him at the thought of working with Kyn. A thrill that dropped to the bottom of his stomach and lay there burning as the reality of the situation sank in.

He glanced around the room, searching for somewhere to put his eyes other than on Neil or Kyn. Neil’s office, however, was as bland and unrevealing as his face — white walls, gray blinds, no artwork or personal touches.

Nothing to distract Pat from the boss himself — except the mess in his own head.

Pat?

Pat’s mind was already working its way through memories he’d thought safely buried as he tried to figure out what the hell he was supposed to say. It took a few moments for him to realize that Neil had spoken to him. Hmm? What?

I asked if working with Kyn was going to be a problem.

He bit back his gut response, that of course it was going to be a problem, and struggled to give the idea a moment’s objective thought. Considering their destination and the nature of the assignment, Kyn was an excellent choice. Kyn had done a four-year stint in the Federation Space Fleet, knew weapons better than most of the agents Pat had worked with, and was the only psion alive who was powerful enough to kill with his mind alone.

Pat glanced at Kyn and let out a sigh. Professionally? No. If he couldn’t have Alek watching his back, Kyn was the best he could ask for. And if they were going to come face to face with a killer psion, he had to admit that Kyn was a better choice than Alek.

Neil arched an eyebrow. And personally?

It won’t be a problem, sir.

Neil gave him a speculative look. After a long silence, his gaze shifted to Kyn. I was given to understand that you two trained together at the Institute.

Pat drew breath to speak, but Kyn beat him to it. That was a long time ago, Iverson. He met Pat’s eyes for a brief moment and his shoulders lifted in an apologetic shrug. It’ll be fine. When do we ship out?

Tomorrow. Neil rose and crossed the room to the conference table, gesturing for Pat to join him. He tapped at the tabletop screen and brought up a map of the city of Riga.

Pat sat across the table from Kyn and willed his body not to react. Not that it mattered what expression he managed to put on his face. As sensitive an empath as Kyn was, there was no way he’d miss the attraction that still burned deep inside of Pat, or the hunger that was as strong now as it had been three years ago. Just the sight of Kyn brought back every detail of that one night they’d spent together and sent a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He allowed himself one brief moment of regret for believing that their friendship could survive the fallout from that night, then focused on what Neil was saying.

…and Pat hasn’t had time to get up to speed on this, either. We only got the case a couple of days ago. Those idiots at FedSec Riga sat on it for months before somebody decided it ought to be sent our way. I’ll give you a brief overview now, but you’ll want to study the case in detail and develop a mission plan en route. I suggest you work as efficiently as possible — it’ll be a three-day trip to Torron.

That caught Pat’s attention. "Three days? I thought we were booked on the Marianna. I was counting on having a full week of transit time to prepare."

Sorry. Logan wants you out there as fast as possible. He’s commandeered a cabin for you on a Romani Industries corporate courier.

That’ll put some noses out of joint, Kyn said, keeping his eyes fixed on the map.

Pat shook his head, but didn’t bother protesting further. Drake Logan, director of Federation Security’s Department of Psionic Operations, was Neil’s boss. His word was law when it came to investigating cases of misuse of psi. He certainly had the authority to bump somebody off of a corporate ship in favor of his agents. It would make for a chilly trip, but with only three days to prepare, socializing with the other passengers would be the least of their worries.

Neil focused his attention on Kyn. You’re investigating a series of unexplained deaths in the city of Riga on Torron — seven of them over the last eight months. The victims are all young men between the ages of seventeen and twenty-five, and they were all members of the same downside gang. Given the gang affiliation, drugs were suspected, but none of the bio-scans indicated lethal levels of any known toxin. Your mission is to determine whether or not psi was involved in these deaths, and if it was, track down and neutralize the perpetrator.

So you really think you’re dealing with a killer psion. Kyn’s voice sounded strained. Guess that explains why you wanted me.

Neil nodded. Yes, I did request you, specifically. Frankly, I’m not sorry to be sending you out there in Alek’s place. If a psion that powerful is caught up in the middle of a gang war, things could get nasty.

If seven people are dead, things are already nasty, Pat said.

Kyn didn’t look at him. "Thanks a lot, Neil. Just because I have that kind of power doesn’t mean I’m immune to it, you know."

But you could be, couldn’t you? Neil said.

Kyn’s jaw tightened and a muscle in his cheek twitched. "And I so appreciate being your guinea pig."

Neil’s inscrutable expression didn’t shift at all as he regarded Kyn. You’re not obligated to assist us, Kyn. You don’t work for my organization, and I don’t have the authority to order you.

But you’ll still send Pat out there, Kyn said. With someone else.

Pat frowned and studied Kyn from beneath lowered lashes. Concern was the last thing he expected from Kyn. He wondered if it was professional or personal.

Neil’s gaze shifted to Pat. Pat does work for me, so he doesn’t have the luxury of refusing. We have a responsibility to the public to investigate what could be a very dangerous situation.

Kyn scowled at Neil and shot Pat a brief look that Pat couldn’t even begin to interpret. You don’t need to quote the Federation Charter at me, Iverson. He didn’t bother to hide the growl in his voice. I’m in.

Good. FedSec Riga will have the latest details on the case. If you determine that we are dealing with a killer psion, you’re authorized to use any means necessary to stop him or her, including lethal force. If you’re able to make an arrest, you’ll ship the perpetrator home in cold-sleep. If you determine that an undercover op is your best option, FedSec Riga has orders to assist you. They will be your liaison with local law enforcement. The last team I sent to Riga used their Special Agent status to step on a lot of toes. Be sure to keep the local authorities apprised of your activities, and try not to ruffle any feathers if you can help it. Cottrell, I’m talking to you.

Pat rolled his eyes. I hear you, Neil.

I’ll expect a full report when you get back. Any questions?

No, I think that about covers it, Pat said. He dragged his gaze up to meet Kyn’s. We can hole up in my office and start going over the case if you want.

Kyn acknowledged him with a brief nod. Even that little bit of attention set Pat’s heart beating faster. He swallowed around a suddenly dry throat and wondered how he was going to survive working so closely with Kyn for the duration of the mission.

Kyn, you’ll need to head down to Human Resources before you two get buried in the details, Neil said. They’ll set you up with a FedSec ID and get you into the system as one of our agents. Pat can show you the way. He rose to shake both of their hands. Good luck, gentlemen.

Pat left the office with Kyn right behind him. They were halfway to the elevators before Kyn spoke. I didn’t know it was you I’d be working with until you walked into Neil’s office, he said in a low voice. Are you all right with this?

Pat stopped and turned to face him, looking him straight in the eye for the first time. It wasn’t me who decided we couldn’t be friends.

Kyn flushed and his gaze dropped to the floor. I-I never meant—

"Never meant what, exactly?" Never meant to fall into bed with me and then walk out on me the next morning? He wanted to say it, had been aching to say it for three long years, but now that he had the opportunity, he couldn’t. They had to work together, after all. Starting things off with a fight wouldn’t help anything.

The silence stretched on. Pat was turning away when Kyn grabbed his arm and said, I never meant to hurt you.

Pat stared at him for a moment, then shook off his hand. Well, you did. He headed toward the elevators.

Kyn followed him to Human Resources in silence. While Kyn got the whole biometric workup, Pat waited in the lobby, reading over the details of the case on his slate.

It wasn’t until later, when they were settled at the conference table in the privacy of Pat’s office, that Kyn finally said, I’m sorry.

Sorry for what? Pat was still too annoyed to be anything but blunt. Sleeping with me or walking out on me? Or not talking to me for the past three years?

Both. I mean… all of it. I screwed up. I shouldn’t have—

"I’m not sorry. I wanted it, too, you know." He still did, but it was clear that Kyn didn’t, so he pressed his lips together to keep it inside. If Kyn sensed his true feelings… well, that wasn’t Pat’s problem, was it?

Pat—

Look, just… forget it, all right? We have to work together. We can keep things professional. I don’t… I don’t want to fight with you. If Kyn didn’t want him that way, he’d just have to live with that. Hell, he’d been living with it for the last three years. Were things really any different now that he had to work with the man?

He stared down at the map displayed on the surface of the conference table without really seeing it.

Yeah.

Things were different. Things were very different.

* * *

Kyn studied the map and tried to concentrate on what Pat was saying. Two hours into their review of the incident reports from the Riga Police Force, his head was pounding and he was finding it difficult to maintain his focus. The effort of blocking Pat out of his empathic awareness had his shoulders in tight knots.

Pat’s reaction upon seeing him had almost been enough to make him get up and walk out of Neil’s office. The anger and confusion hadn’t surprised him, but the strength of the attraction had. He’d shut it out, hiding behind his shield like the coward he was. Knowing Pat still felt the same way about him didn’t help his resolve at all.

Now, sitting close to Pat in the cramped office, their heads bent over the tabletop screen, their legs almost touching, he couldn’t help but be aware of the warm, clean scent of the man next to him. That smell sent his blood racing south and his mind hurtling back to that night…

Pat stretched out on the bed, dark eyes half closed, lips parted, head thrown back in mindless pleasure… the breathy little moans and whimpers that escaped Pat’s throat as Kyn slowly licked the length of his cock. The way Pat’s hands gripped Kyn’s hair, the way his hips bucked as Kyn took him deep into his mouth… The smell of soap and sex and that familiar, warm scent that was Pat’s alone and had the power to send every shred of rational thought spiraling into sweet oblivion…

Kyn closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, giving himself a mental shake. Can’t have him, he told himself. Can’t. Doesn’t matter how much you want him, he’s not for you.

He dragged his attention back to the map and tried to concentrate on the meaning of Pat’s words rather than the familiar, comforting tones of that voice he hadn’t heard in far too long.

…and the areas where the bodies were found are marked in red. According to the police reports, they all lie close to the line that separates the territories of two downside gangs, the Vipers and the Scorpions. A lock of dark brown hair flopped down over Pat’s eyes as he lifted his head to look at Kyn.

Kyn almost reached out to brush it aside, but stopped himself. Pat swiped it away with his hand. The gesture was so familiar that the butterflies in Kyn’s stomach coalesced into something hot and aching. He swallowed hard and forced his mind back on track — again. Not sure I’m too thrilled about walking into a gang war, he muttered, then glanced at Pat. How familiar are you with Riga?

Alek and I were there on a corporate espionage case a couple of years ago, but we never ventured downside, so I’m not at all familiar with this area. You?

Search-and-rescue ops, but the closest we ever got to downside was St. Anne’s. He dragged a finger across the screen to change the view and pointed to the hospital. We were warned that there was a lot of gang activity downside, and that as long as it stayed downside, the Riga Police Force turned a blind eye.

That’s the impression I got from looking over the request for assistance from FedSec Riga, Pat said. This isn’t going to be pretty.

No, it’s not. The hospital was bad enough. Trevor said any psion unlucky enough to end up in that place would be beyond saving by the time we found them. He stared down at the map and tried not to think about the dull, drugged eyes that had stared right through him as he and Trevor had toured the dingy halls of Riga’s largest psych hospital.

Speaking of Trevor, Pat said as he tapped the tabletop to dismiss the map image, "is everything all right with the McKinnon clan? Alek left here yesterday morning after his mom called him, and all I got after that was a sorry I have to bail on you message. Next thing I know, he’s on emergency leave, and I’m without a partner."

Kyn rolled his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension. I don’t know much more than that. Mother McKinnon was pretty upset when she called Trevor. She wanted him and Alek home as soon as they could manage it. She wouldn’t give him any details over the phone, though. Trevor left this morning. I was considering heading out there tonight. The McKinnon clan was the closest thing to family that he had, and he owed them a lot — his sanity, certainly, perhaps even his life.

He’d still been dithering about it when Cameron Asada, his boss at the Institute for Psionic Research, had called him to his office to see if he’d be willing to do a job for Neil Iverson. Now that he knew the details of that job, he wasn’t about to leave Pat to go out looking for a killer psion without the best possible backup he could have.

Pat’s eyes met his and then slid away. Don’t let me stop you. I’m perfectly capable of running this investigation on my own. They’re your family.

Foster family, and there are enough of them to look after things. You know what they’re like. If the entire brood’s been called home, it’ll be a madhouse. One more body either way isn’t going to make much difference to them, but it could make a big difference to you. A life or death difference, maybe.

Kyn, I—

Probably just as well, anyway. He cut Pat off, certain he didn’t want to hear whatever it was Pat was going to say. Trevor and I were getting ready to ship out to Alpha, run a search-and-rescue op in Paris. He had this brilliant idea about taking a few days of vacation and checking out some of the museums and cultural stuff. He made a lot of snide comments about my lack of proper attire.

Pat was silent for a few moments, then said in a tentative voice, Well, your idea of high fashion should fit right in where we’re going. Downside Riga’s about as scruffy as you can get.

Kyn forced a laugh. I’m not sure if I should be pleased or insulted by that assessment.

The set of Pat’s shoulders loosened a little and his lips curved in the first real smile Kyn had seen out of him since he’d walked into Neil’s office. Depends on what kind of impression you’re trying to make, I suppose. He leaned back in his chair and stretched. We should probably call it a day. Our shuttle leaves early in the morning. You want me to pick you up?

It’s not exactly on your way. You don’t have to—

I don’t mind, Pat said quietly.

Yeah, all right, Kyn said. He’d be spending every waking hour of the next few weeks with the man. Sparing himself the hour it would take to reach the spaceport wasn’t going to buy him a damn thing, except maybe Pat’s irritation.

Pat hesitated for a moment, as if he’d been expecting an argument. With a slight frown and a brief shake of his head, he said, I’ll be there at six.

As he left Pat’s office and headed for the elevator, Kyn decided that things had gone far better than he’d thought they would when Pat had first walked into Iverson’s office.

Working with the man would be a challenge, but he thought he was up to the task. He could keep things between them cool and professional. Maybe more than that, if Pat could ever forgive him. Even after three years, he had hopes that one day they might resurrect the friendship that had been shattered that night. That friendship had meant more to Kyn than anything, and he still missed it so much that its absence was almost a physical ache.

* * *

Kyn’s confidence in his ability to keep things professional lasted right up until the moment he walked into the cabin he would be sharing with Pat and saw the double bed.

Fast couriers were built for speed, not comfort, and the cabin size reflected that. The room was big enough to hold the bed, a bathroom with a tiny shower stall, and a storage locker.

Pat didn’t even bother to unpack. He shoved his luggage into the locker and gave Kyn an apologetic look. I’m sorry about this. Neil probably didn’t even think to ask about separate bunks. It’s not an issue with me and Alek.

It’s all right. We’ll manage. Even though it would be torture sleeping next to Pat and knowing he was off-limits. He glanced toward the bed, frowning. You and Alek…? The burning feeling in his chest surprised him.

No, Pat said quickly. "I mean… not since before he got involved with Jared, and even then it