Skinwalker (Shadowborn Rebellion #3) - Cyndi Friberg Page 0,28
I think this has something to do with him.”
“So tell us about Lance,” Jaron suggested. “Why would a wannabe dictator have an interest in him?”
Nikki thought for a moment. Why would anyone have an interest in Lance? From what she remembered he was introverted and unimpressive. Of course, he was in the grip of puberty at the time. Fourteen wasn’t anyone’s favorite year. “I’ve heard about him from other family members, but it has been a lifetime since I saw him last. I’m not sure I’d recognize him on the street.”
“Do you know what he does for a living? Does he have any powerful friends?” Ayran asked.
“Last I heard he worked for an aerospace company that works primarily for the Defense Department.”
Jaron and Ayran exchanged knowing looks then Jaron said, “That could be your answer.”
She shook her head. “The company has military connections, but Lance is a software engineer.”
“What about his immediate family, parents, mate, that sort of thing?” Ayran asked. “Sometimes individuals are chosen to be used as motivation for the real target.”
That sounded more plausible, but still unlikely. “His mother was my father’s sister and she died when Lance was twelve. His father was never in the picture, so our grandfather took Lance in. My parents offered to do it, but Lance chose the admiral.”
“The admiral?” Ayran looked at Jaron with raised brows then shifted his strange pink gaze back to Nikki. “Tell us about your grandfather.”
Again, her memories were more than a decade old. “He was what you would expect from someone who dedicated their life to the military, strict, aggressive, almost obsessively patriotic. But I haven’t seen him since my early teens.”
“Why is that? Did he pass beyond?” Jaron sounded cautious, as if he were concerned that the question would offend her.
“To my knowledge, he’s still alive. My parents had a bitter fight with him one Christmas Eve and I was forbidden to even mention him after that. He sent me a card and some cash when I graduated from high school, but that’s the last contact I had with him. Me and Lance were never close. I’ve got a great relationship with my immediately family, but my extended family is kind of a mess.”
“Is he still an admiral?” Jaron wanted to know.
“I’m pretty sure he retired. I remember my parents mentioning it.” She milled over the implications for a moment. Her grandfather was significantly more impressive than Lance, but the admiral had to be well into his seventies by now. Besides, Cretzian technology was much more advanced than human. This still didn’t make sense. “I’m not sure what Zerna could gain from my grandfather even with his military connections.”
“She’s right,” Ayran grumbled. “Human weapons are primitive. Even an admiral isn’t much of a temptation.”
“Maybe they just need soldiers,” Jaron countered. “The Cretzians could provide the weapons if the admiral supplies the fighters.”
“We can speculate and hypothesize until the end of time,” Nikki said firmly. “We need more information and there is no way to gather it until we’re out of this limbo.”
“And I think I’ve figured out a way to make that happen.”
Nikki turned around again. Velmar stood behind her now looking bedraggled and fatigued.”
“Should you be out of bed?” she asked carefully. “No offense, but you still look like shit.”
He chuckled. “How could anyone take offense to that?”
“What’s your idea?” Ayran prompted.
“I finally regained enough strength to penetrate the veil,” Velmar told them, though Nikki wasn’t sure what that meant. “We are very near our destination. However, it will still be some time before I am strong enough to create a portal large enough for a ship.”
“Are we close enough for you to contact Salvo?” Jaron asked hopefully.
“I have tried repeatedly. I can sense him, but have been unable to lock on to his signal.” Velmar looked at Nikki, his expression inscrutable. “I am hoping you can help with that.”
“I know nothing about any of this,” she instead, her worried gaze darting toward Jaron.
“We both know that’s not true,” Velmar went on. “Even while my abilities were suppressed, your mind found its way to mine.”
“I told you, I wasn’t doing it intentionally. I don’t know how to control—whatever this is.”
His teal gaze locked with hers, challenging and intense. “I will guide you.”
“No,” she cried. “I don’t want you in my mind.”
Jaron reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Do you trust me?”
After a hint of hesitation, she said, “Yes.”
“And I trust Velmar,” Jaron stressed. “He will not harm you. Don’t you want off