Sandoval sat, studying Liam from across the room. The major sat at the desk, his head leaned back against the chair, his eyes half closed. The room was silent. Sunlark had taken Vanyel to another room so the mage could rest…Serous was asleep in the corner.
Why did Vanyel always have to be right? He'd been happy ignoring the fact that Liam had a reason to be angry. He had escaped the Taelons, Liam hadn't. The major had a right to resent that. At least Liam had been spared some of the torture.
"I think I owe you an apology," Sandoval offered at least. Liam didn't move. "Are you alright?"
Liam jumped slightly. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"What's the matter?" Sandoval heard himself ask. The Tayledras had trained him well. Before he wouldn't have cared. But now, even with their disagreement, he couldn't help but ask.
"Just a headache." Liam grimaced as if even the thought hurt him.
Hesitating, Sandoval sighed. It was easily taken care of. But he'd kept his talents to himself for a reason. After this, Liam would know, others were sure to follow…. He stood and walked to where Liam was, stopping before him. Very gently, he brushed the major's forehead. Liam opened his eyes, startled. "What…?!"
"Shhh…" Sandoval quieted him. He closed his eyes, centering himself. Reaching out, he followed the web of pain spread through Liam's mind. Carefully, he worked his way back to the source….
Sandoval gasped, breaking his connection with Liam. No. Surely he was wrong. "You were implanted?"
Liam nodded. "Someone had to take over your position."
"I'm sorry," Sandoval apologized. "I'm so sorry." He turned quickly, ducking out of the room.
***
All motion stopped as Sandoval walked through the door to the Mothership's bridge. The entire staff of Volunteers turned to stare at him. Sandoval closed his eyes for a moment; they had plenty to stare at. Mostly likely no one had told them of his return—his presence would be enough to surprise them. Not to mention his appearance. He glanced down at the iridescent blue-black robe he wore. He should probably have worn his suit instead…. Nodding curtly, he remembered who ranked above who in this hierarchy. "Back to work." There was a second of scrambling and the Volunteers returned to their duties.
Reaching the entrance to Zo'or's private audience chamber, Sandoval stopped. He had known this was coming. When Liam had said Zo'or wanted him back, he knew the major had been right. He had been a good implant. He'd done anything they wanted without question. And it all had been his own choice.
He paced the hallway, attempting to collect himself. After a few deep breaths, he stepped into the audience chamber.
The Companion occupied the single chair in the room, turned away from him. Sandoval knew that Zo'or had heard him enter the room, but he continued to ignore him. Patience, he reminded himself. He was no stranger to the mind games Zo'or used. And he wasn't about to give in to them. Zo'or would know his anxiety about the upcoming confrontation, and would want to prolong that as much as possible.
"Ah, Agent Sandoval…." Zo'or spun to face him. His eyes lingered on Sandoval's clothing.
Bowing his head, Sandoval gave a 'Taelon Salute.' "Zo'or, I am pleased to see you once again."
Zo'or tilted his head slightly, as if considering the validity of the statement. Quickly, Sandoval checked his mental shields. Even if Zo'or didn't prove as proficient in MindSpeech as Da'an, the most untalented of this planet could feel something he let slip past his shields. They were intact.
A slight smirk spread across Zo'or's face. "I'm glad to hear such sentiment from you. I have arranged for you to return to your post immediately."
"Da'an will be pleased," Sandoval agreed, turning to leave. "I shall depart for DC at once."
"And what makes you certain that I am returning you to Da'an's service?"
Sandoval stopped, taking a deep breath. He had known coming in that it would come to this. Turning, he met Zo'or's eyes. "I don't work for you anymore, Zo'or. I never did. Every order I carried out was against my will. I will not put myself back into that position." He took one step towards the Taelon. :Don't even try to force me,: he snapped mentally and walked from the room.
***
The streets of DC pulsed with life. People dashed here and there, providing the city with a heartbeat all its own. No other place on earth could match it, as it could never hope to match anywhere else. Far above the sidewalks, Sandoval stared out the virtual glass windows of his quarters, studying the people below. Up here, far removed from the city's life source, it was easy to believe they didn't exist. That this was all a dream—he would wake in Vanyel's ground room, wrapped in the mage's arms….
Yet he knew this was all too real. The veined purple walls of the room were solid, not a figment of his imagination. And they caged him more effectively than any prison of the mind. He wouldn't be allowed to escape. Standing up to Zo'or had been a start. It would buy him some time, while the Taelon attempted to figure out just exactly what talents this human had gained besides telepathy. That didn't mean he would be turned loose in the city with the rest of the group to do as they pleased. They would continue to be housed at the Embassy, limited to particular areas and escorted anywhere else. Sandoval scoffed, as a Protector he would have insisted on such.
Zo'or wouldn't be warned off for long. Having been deeply tangled in this web of Human-Taelon affairs, he knew too much. He was too valuable to let be. The Synod would persist, finding a way to force him into their service. And no doubt Dr. Belman could find something in her bag of tricks to suppress his Gifts and make him all the more complacent….
"Sandoval?"
He turned, broken from his thoughts. Vanyel stood several feet away. The mage was dressed in a flowing green robe. His silver hair cascaded over his shoulders, set off by the dark material. Two black feathers were braided at his temple. Sandoval smiled, raven feathers no doubt.
"You look tired," Vanyel said softly, coming to stand beside Sandoval.
Sandoval nodded. "It was a trying meeting. Zo'or wants me…."
"Shhh…." Vanyel placed his fingers to Sandoval's lips, silencing him. He smiled mischievously. Leaning forward, Vanyel gently kissed Sandoval's eyelids, forcing him to close his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Sandoval relaxed, giving into Vanyel's will. He shuddered slightly as he felt Vanyel's fingers drop from his lips. As light as a feather, they traced the line of his neck, his skin tingling wherever they touched. Warm breath caressed his skin, as Vanyel's lips followed behind his touch. Fingers lingered at his shoulder, teasing at the silky folds of his robe.
Vanyel reached down and took his hands, leading him across the room to the bed. Sighing, Sandoval laid down on the comforter. Seconds later, he felt Vanyel sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. Soft fingers ran down the curve of his spine.
"I hope you are not too tired, shaydra," Vanyel teased, kissing the base of Sandoval's neck.
Sandoval scoffed, shaking his head slightly. "Have I ever been too tired for you, ke'chara?"
***
"Your hair is a mess," Vanyel complained, pulling at the strands of hair that had worked themselves loose from Sandoval's braid.
"I told you it was too short to stay braided." Sandoval yawned, stretching. It was no doubt late. Sun streamed in through the large virtual glass window, bathing the room in a warm, yellow glow. He should have been up hours ago, but at the moment he really didn't care. He'd told Zo'or to go to hell yesterday, a late appearance today wasn't going to hurt his reputation with him or Liam any more than that had. And Da'an would understand his absence.
"It's not too short," Vanyel protested tugging at the feather. "It just…need's some work." Taking down the braid, Vanyel started to straighten the crimped hairs.
Smiling, Sandoval pulled away from him. "Would you leave my poor hair alone? I have a gift for you." He found his leather pouch by the bed. Pulling out a wing feather, he presented it to Vanyel. "From Serous."
Taking the feather from his hands, Vanyel leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "It is beautiful, ashke, beautiful. But if I am to let you braid this into my hair, you truly must let me rebraid yours. I have the most delicate snow owl feather and some crystals which will prove most exquisite…."
Sandoval sighed, closing his eyes. "Fine. Braid."
"You give in to me so easily…."
"Just braid," Sandoval teased him. "Before I change my mind and decide not to sit here and let you decorate me like some parade pony."
Vanyel's deft fingers easily worked at the tangles. Taking a deep breath, Sandoval relaxed, concentrating only on the feel of Vanyel's fingers in his hair. "Me thinks I doth protest too much."
"Huh?" Vanyel asked, starting to thread crystals into the plait.
Sandoval resisted the urge to shake his head. "Never mind."
"Still asleep? That's impossible!"
Sandoval jumped at Liam's voice—directly outside the door. Shaking his head, Vanyel held him still. :It will do no good, my Raven. It is already too late to invent a rational explanation.: Sandoval flinched. Van was right; there was no way to explain away what Liam was about to find. He felt Vanyel tie off the braid.
"What the hell…?! Sandoval?"
Sandoval hesitated to open his eyes. He knew without the aid of sight that Liam had only made it a couple steps in the door before he had stopped dead in his tracks to stare. He didn't particularly want to see the look on the major's face. Shay'a'chern were not accepted here. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, meeting Liam's gaze. Surprise, shock, and repulsion radiated off the man before him. Sandoval flinched, forcing himself to channel the emotions through his body and into his 'ground.' He was going to have enough trouble with his own emotions, let alone dealing with someone else's.
"I'm sorry, Major. Was my presence required for something this morning?"
Liam didn't answer. Instead, he turned and stormed out the door.
"That was fun," Vanyel scoffed, picking up the wing feather Sandoval had given him and quickly braiding it in at his temple.
"I'm not sure I would call it fun."
Shrugging, Vanyel crawled out of bed. "I know this will prove to be hard—on both of us, but on you especially, my love. You have told me countless times that this is not accepted here as it is in the Vales. I understand that and the impact it has on you." He hesitated and Sandoval flinched, knowing what was coming next. "My offer still stands. Some damage has already been done and cannot be repaired, but further complications can be avoided. I would understand if you chose not to be with me here…."
"You sound like Sunlark."
A pillow playfully flew across the room. "I do not sound like Sunlark."
"Now, if you could only learn to give backrubs like Sunlark…"
"I didn't hear you complaining last night, you ungrateful, little…." Vanyel lunged at him.
"Come now, ke'chara. You know you love me, regardless of what I do."
Vanyel smiled. "Unfortunately, you're right. But next time you compare me to Sunlark…."
Moving just out of Vanyel's reach, Sandoval returned the smile. "Next time I compare you to Sunlark, I will see that I have more to evaluate that mere backrubs." He made his way to his stuff and picked up a slate grey robe.
At first glance, it was plain. It was meant to be. But the longer one looked at it, the more details they found. Dyed into the material was a 'wrinkled' pattern—a haphazard spider web of slightly darker 'cracks' in the slate. Along the edges of the robe, the color faded into a dull silver that shone slightly when it caught the light just right. Braiding ran the length of the sleeves. That was not uncommon in itself, often the hertasi used braiding, jewels, and such to decorate the robes they made. However, it was the material that made this particular braid that set it apart as special. White horse hair—Companion hair to be more specific. Since he had no bondbird and therefore no feathers to offer, Vanyel had been saving hair from Yfandes' tail and intended to do something with it. It was the hertasi that had come up with this particular use. A lovely garment all around, though he didn't allow himself to wear it very often for precisely the same reason. But after this morning…he figured he more than deserved it.
Sandoval sighed as he slipped into the robe. "I think I need to go talk to Liam. This could be a very long conversation, don't wait up for me."
"Don't worry. Sunlark and I will be able to entertain ourselves."
Turning his eyes away, Sandoval feigned a hurt look. "That was harsh."
Vanyel just laughed. "You deserved it."
***