Nikkolas Cruz Eye of The Warrior The Awakening

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's

imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living

or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

Eye of the Warrior: The Awakening

TOP SHELF

An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers, Inc.

PO Box 2545

Round Rock, TX 78680

Cover illustration by Atta Vazzy

Published with permission

ISBN: 1-934166-05-7, 978-1-934166-05-5

www.torquerepress.com

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO
Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680.

First Torquere Press Printing: March 2007

Printed in the USA

Eye of the Warrior - 2

CHAPTER ONE

Twenty days, thirteen hours, twelve minutes, and forty-nine seconds… he wasn't sure how much
more of this he could take.

Barak signaled the bartender for another Makers Mark neat. He brought the glass to his lips and
inhaled. The spicy vapors masked the tobacco that clung everywhere. It made his insides tingle
in all the right places and settled his stomach. It only lasted a moment. The flashing blue lights
and loud music combined with the manufactured scents to scramble his elevated senses.

Would it be another wasted night? He looked toward the sea of bodies on the dance floor moving
to the repetitive beat. The men and their beautiful faces and perfect bodies no longer had the
same appeal. Easy prey, that bored him.

He brought the glass to his lips and drew in another deep, centering breath. As the lining of his
nostrils and lungs tingled, he homed in on the faint sensation that had brought him here.

Barak scanned the faces on the dance floor. Somewhere among the smiling or the high was his
target. Which of the handsome faces belonged to his guy? Which of these damned humans would
be his prize tonight? The thought of the takedown helped ease Barak's queasy stomach. The hunt
always thrilled him, but the kill made his day.

"Reveal him," he whispered an order to his senses. He downed the whiskey and waited for a
response. The spicy liquid numbed his tongue, as his eyes connected with a dark haired man with
honey-brown eyes.

A faint quiver in the hunter's gut told him this was the one.

Barak moved toward the dance floor. Through the man-made pollutants hovering in the air, he
caught the scent of his prey; a sweet yet subtle freshness intermingled with a natural male musk.
A chill spread over him. He savored the aroma and burned it into his memory. Barak no longer
needed to see the man to know exactly where he stood.

Barak slipped his shirt off, as so many around him had done, and continued to navigate his way
through the crowd. His target was one of the few wearing a shirt. He was laughing and rolling his
almond-shaped eyes at the blond man dancing beside him.

If they were together, Barak would have to separate them. He circled the couple, wondering how
difficult that would be, until his eyes met the gaze of his prey.

Eye of the Warrior - 3

Barak froze.

The man sent him a welcoming smile.

Are you the one?

The olive complexion, waves of dark hair, and chiseled features didn't interest Barak. He wanted
to dive deeper inside and rip the essence from within the man. There was something in the air
about this one. It was faint, yet powerful. He wanted to know for sure, but the lights, smoke, and
human chatter interfered. Another chill passed through him. The nausea returned in a sudden
rush and the sensation started to fade. There was no time to waste. Barak smiled and moved in.

He wrapped an arm around his prey and maneuvered the man away from the dance floor. Their
lips came together in the darkened corridor.

The nausea subsided. The sensation was now stronger than ever. It was time.

***

Antonio Manzanetti closed his eyes and savored the whiskey-flavored tongue for a moment
longer than he should have. His head spun from the sudden rush of cool energy that swirled
around him. He figured it was from the last shot he'd downed. When he pulled away from the
stranger's lips, in need of air, he opened his eyes to the dim lighting of one of the restrooms.
He leaned against the tiled wall, feeling the rhythmic vibrations of the bass. The man's callused
hands worked their way over his stomach, moving toward his chest. The buttons of his dress shirt
popped open as they did.

Antonio's eyes and his hands traveled over the smooth mounds of muscle before him. Gym
bunnies with shaved heads were his weakness. He always fell for the bad-boy type. It was easier
that way. They didn't want anything more than a good time and neither did he. He'd done the
boyfriend thing for a year. Three months had passed since their break up and he still wanted to
drive a stake through the bastard's heart whenever their paths crossed. Get off, get up, get clean,
and get out. That was all he wanted now.

He cupped the man's sizable package with his left hand and gave it a playful squeeze.

Oh, yeah, this'll do.

Antonio was ready to play. When he looked up into the blue-gray eyes, a chill spread from his
chest to the rest of his body. The warm and inviting gaze was now a cold, hard stare.

The warm, horny feeling left him. He put on a big smile and figured it was a good time for a
getaway. "I'd better get back to my friends," he said, and shifted to move away.

The man's massive hands stopped their gentle massage and pinned him to the wall.

Eye of the Warrior - 4

Fear shot through Antonio, but a wave of anger pushed the fear aside. He didn't care if the
motherfucker was as big as a house; after ending his last relationship, he'd promised himself that
he would never let anyone bully him again.

"Fuck off," he said, and pushed the man away.

His heart raced as the stranger stumbled backward. Antonio headed toward the door, but before
his hand reached the doorknob, the man grabbed a fistful of his hair and shoved him back against
the wall.

Antonio raised a fist to strike back, but the man slammed his right palm into the center of
Antonio's chest.

Something icy and wet grabbed hold of his wrist and forced it down to his side. Then the same
invisible force wrapped around his entire body.

Antonio wanted to run screaming, but his feet would not listen to the commands of his brain.

The man leaned in closer. His lips brushed against the curves of Antonio's left ear. They were
cold and wet, but his breath was hot and smelled of rotten eggs.

Antonio's heart slammed against his ribcage.

"I thought you liked it rough," the man whispered in a shrill tone.

His foul breath caressed Antonio's cheek.

Antonio closed his eyes and fought off the nausea. He prayed to be somewhere else, anywhere
else. Maybe he was imagining the whole thing.

Too many shots… I'll open my eyes and I'll probably find myself with my head in the toilet.

He took several deep breaths, deciding that what he told himself would be true as soon as he
opened his eyes.

He counted backward from ten in his mind. When he reached four, his racing heart slowed. He
felt the vibrations of the music once again. He was sure that it was okay to open his eyes now.
Deciding that it would be water for the rest of the night, he took another deep breath and opened
them.

Antonio choked on the rancid air, as he found himself standing before the pale gray face of a
monster.

Eye of the Warrior - 5

His terrified eyes traced the line of tiny metal spikes protruding across the center of the monster's
forehead and around his jawline. He looked into the creature's eyes. A veil of frost covered them.
The gray irises and black pupils were no longer noticeable.

This isn't real.

Antonio stared into a mouthful of razor-sharp, stainless steel teeth. His heart returned to its
frantic rampage, and he blinked several times in the hope he'd wake up from the nightmare.

He found the strength to open his mouth and scream, but the sounds of the diva wailing about her
cheating boyfriend drowned him out.

A burning pain ripped through his heart. He looked down and saw a stream of opaque green light
flowing from his chest to the pale hand of the stranger.

It was definitely a nightmare, he decided, watching the strange light pour from him. What a silly
dream, he thought, as he grew weaker. He wondered what it meant. He would have to ask his
best friend in the morning, after he recovered from the vicious hangover. Kayla would probably
tell him to avoid screwing around in the john with strangers for the next month.

He heard himself laugh, then felt himself drifting. The room grew darker and the music started to
fade.

What would the next dream be like? Warmer, he hoped, as he surrendered to the cool oblivion.

***

Barak stared into the lifeless human eyes. The warm, fuzzy feeling was faint, but it still gnawed
at his gut. The poor bastard wasn't Drakan. He was still somewhere beyond the restroom door.
He let the body drop to the floor.

Barak turned to the mirror and morphed back into the form he'd chosen for the night. His flesh
tingled. Breathing in the air around him no longer made him nauseous. Taking in a human male
was better than inhaling whiskey. It always made him feel better and lasted so much longer.

He looked at his face in the mirror again. Though not as perfect as his true form, he figured it
would have to do. He needed to conserve his energy for the hunt.

A bang at the door called his attention to one minor detail. He pulled the communicator,
fashioned after the sleek cell phones humans used, from his pocket, flipped it open, and after two
beeps sounded, spoke into it. "Clean up and recycle required. Coordinates are as follows." He
keyed in a series of numbers before continuing his report. "Still in pursuit of target. Status out."

Antonio's lifeless body vanished in a flash of amber light.

Eye of the Warrior - 6

Barak looked into the mirror once more. He decided he preferred brown eyes to gray and with
one blink changed them. He opened the door and returned to the edge of the dance floor.

With no environmental interference, his predatory senses jumped into high gear. It took only a
moment to pick up the scent of his next target.

Eye of the Warrior - 7

CHAPTER TWO

Marty Cortez exited Club Isis ready to call it a night. He took a sobering breath to clear his head.
The cool air that replaced the smoke in his lungs carried the aroma from the Pizza Palace
restaurant now serving around the corner. Dinner had consisted of three vodka tonics. A slice of
pepperoni called out to him and he followed.

Downtown Wilmington was alive with Memorial Day weekend partygoers. Marty sighed when
he saw the large boisterous crowd gathered in front of the pizzeria. When he spotted an opening
at the counter he made a beeline for it, but before he reached the front door a platinum blonde, in
halter top and low-rise jeans, stepped in his way. The crown of her head barely reached his chest.
"Hey, baby, you're hot," she slurred. "Wanna be my Latin lover?" Her slender body stumbled
closer. Her glassy green eyes and shaky stance let Marty know she was one drink away from
passing out face down in the gutter. A few of her friends, appearing equally smashed, surrounded
him.

Marty smiled at the girls-gone-wild poster child and kissed her hand. "I would love to, but it's
been a long night and…" Before he could finish, the tiny blonde pulled him closer and rammed
her tongue past his gaping lips. Grape candy and cheap vodka filled his mouth while her nails
dug into the cartilage of his ears.

Soft, feminine hands roamed over his chest and snuck their way into the fashionable tears along
the thighs of his blue jeans.
Coos and sighs came, as fingers ran through the short waves of his hair. When the human
octopus finally unlatched from his face, Marty saw his opportunity to break free from the
drunken mob. He pulled away, but several hands held onto his shirt. They played tug-of-war with
his vintage Calvin Klein until all the buttons popped off. He managed to escape with one final
tug.

Two blocks later, his hunger had faded. He continued to look over his shoulder as he walked
along a quiet and empty Front Street. He'd watched a report on the evening news, as he dressed
for his night out, about the mugging of two tourists at gunpoint the night before on the same
street.

The sound of two quick taps and then a knock made Marty stop in his tracks. The thought of a
masked gunman coming toward him sent a chill through him.

Eye of the Warrior - 8

He turned to see only the renovated brick facades of the empty shops and restaurants. They were
dark and menacing. The night before, they'd appeared mysterious, even romantic as he strolled
back to his room from the piano bar where he'd been all night.

Though the streets were empty, he felt like someone was there with him. A cool breeze wound
around his damp body, chilling him until his teeth chattered. The smell of something rotten filled
the air and his empty stomach turned.

Marty closed his buttonless shirt as best he could and folded his arms across his chest. He
reminded himself that his bed and breakfast was only two blocks away and started walking.

Another gust of wind swept over him as he stepped in front of an alleyway leading to the river
walk. The breeze was colder and the scent harsher now. A sudden ache at the base of his skull
caused him to stumble. On his knees, he turned to look down the alleyway. Patches of moonlight
and darkness covered the narrow passage.

At the other end, the outline of a man emerged from a dark patch and moved toward him.

Marty scrambled to his feet and ran.

The sudden roar of a car's engine caught his attention; a dark sedan was barreling toward him.
Marty waved his hands in the air to stop the car.

He looked back toward the alley. The sidewalk was still empty. No crazed dark figure with a
gun.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the car's lights brighten and heard the car accelerate.
Marty looked into the high beams racing in his direction.

He's supposed to stop, isn't he?

The light burned his eyes. Marty stepped back, then to the side, but the car followed.

His heart slammed against his chest. The white light surrounded him. In a flash, his eyes saw the
polished front-end of the vehicle. It was black, decorated with the chrome emblem of a
Mercedes.

The rapid pumping of his heart replaced the roar of the engine. He turned to run, but it was too
late, and the Mercedes lifted him off his feet. Marty's back slammed onto the warm hood. The
back of his head collided with the windshield and then he felt his body soar into the air.

When do I get to see my life flash before my eyes?

He was still conscious when his body crashed onto the asphalt. With his eyes wide open, he lay
on his back, immobile, staring into the sky.

Eye of the Warrior - 9

His extremities tingled. He was glad for the moment not to be able to feel anything else. He
listened to the harsh, wet sound of his breathing and the thumping of his heart.

The car screeched to a halt. Two doors opened.

"We have to be sure," a distorted monotone voice said.

Marty coughed several times. A thick, warm liquid wet his lips. He knew from the bitter metallic
taste that it was blood.

His vision blurred. He could only take short, rapid breaths, as if his lungs were the size of a pea.
A rasping sound interrupted the conversation between the two voices moving closer to him.
None of it made any sense to him. Maybe they were coming to see if he was okay and wait with
him until the ambulance arrived. He hoped. He prayed.

Fear gripped every part of him as the shadow of the owner of one of the strange voices stood
over him. A pair of hands came down over his right eye. One held it open while the other pulled
out his contact lens.

With his vision still clear, he saw a latex-covered hand produce a penlight. Its light flashed into
his eye.

"It's him."

The light vanished and in its place appeared a hypodermic needle.

Marty wanted to scream as it descended, but the gathering blood in the back of his throat only
gave him the ability to issue a weak cough. He ordered his broken body to move, but his limbs
reacted with only a tremor.

This isn't real. Must be a bad dream… Wake up, Marty, damn it, wake up!

The needle pricked the surface of his eye. A sizzling pain shot through his brain and he choked
on the blood rushing into his lungs.

Marty took one last, desperate gasp before his vision faded. He needed air. He was drowning in a
sea of his own blood. The sudden rush of a cool substance sent an arctic chill through his brain.

In an instant, the drowning sensation vanished. He could breathe again and was no longer tasting
his own blood. The internal chill crept through the rest of his body as his vision returned.

The needle had disappeared. His right eye scanned the sky, without him telling it where to look,
as if it had a mind of its own. Like a high-powered telescope, it zoomed in and out, searching for
something as his body trembled.

He listened to the sound of footsteps moving away. The car doors slammed and it sped away.

Eye of the Warrior - 10

His eye continued its search until it fixed on a particular heavenly body. A purple mist
surrounded the star. His eye zoomed in closer. A warm and inviting violet light lay before him.

This all had to be a dream, or a nightmare. Maybe he was dead, and the violet light was his
version of the white light that everyone always talked about seeing. He wanted to reach out and
touch it.

What a way to go, half-naked and drunk in the middle of the street. No obituaries, please.

He didn't want to die. Not yet. Not like this.

A dark figure stepped into the light and whispered, "The time has come, Marty."

A bullet in my head, Marty thought, and then his world faded to black.

Eye of the Warrior - 11

CHAPTER THREE

"Estas bien?" the dark figure asked, as Marty came to.

Marty's head spun for a moment while his vision readjusted. His mouth and throat felt as if he'd
been snacking on sand. He stared at the fuzzy silhouette without responding.

A hand gave a gentle squeeze to his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" the man asked again, this time his words peppered with a hint of a Spanish
accent.

Marty blinked several times before the handsome face came into focus.

He recognized the brown eyes staring at him. Strands of dark hair fell against well-defined
cheekbones and jaw. Marty's eyes went to the man’s chest. He recalled the vintage black T-shirt
with skull and crossbones. They had bumped into one another on the dance floor.

Marty suddenly remembered he was lying in the middle of the street with his chest and stomach
exposed.

"Yeah, I think so," he replied as he sat up. His back ached. A tingling sensation wandered over
his arms and legs.

When he stood, his knees buckled and he fell into the arms of the stranger. The firm chest
underneath the soft fabric supported Marty. His lips grazed the man's neck while his hands held
onto the solid biceps. The scent of stale cigarettes attacked his senses, then a spicy-sweet aroma
filled the air.

Marty inhaled deeply and steadied his wobbly legs. He looked into the man's eyes. They were
intense and focused, as if they were searching for a way inside him. Marty pulled away, shifting
his eyes to the asphalt.

"You don't look so good. Let me walk with you."

"I'm fine," Marty insisted.

How many drinks had he had? One too many, he figured. He looked over his shoulder at the
empty street leading toward Isis. A chill worked its way up the hollow of his spine. He closed his

Eye of the Warrior - 12

shirt and folded his arms over his chest to keep it closed. Finishing his walk across the street, he
tried remembering how he'd fallen, and couldn't. He shook his head, thankful to be alive.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

I'm not dead. That's pretty all right to me.

Marty leaned against the lamppost on the corner and looked into the serious but attractive face.
"Do you always pick up strange men who pass out in the middle of the street?"

"No." The stranger's eyes softened. "I just want to make sure you get to wherever you're going
safely."

Too bad, the horny devil in him thought. A flirtatious smile formed on his lips. "Hey, I
appreciate your concern, but I think I can manage from here."

The brown eyes peered at him with that focused gaze once again.

An uneasy feeling washed over him. It was a strange sense of déjà vu mixed with fear, desire,
and adrenaline. Everything about this man seemed so familiar to him.

"Do I know you?" Marty finally asked.

The man came closer.

The same spicy-sweet aroma filled the air. Marty wanted to fall into his arms again.

"It will all begin to make sense soon enough. Until then, be aware and be wary."

"Yeah, sure," Marty said, shaking the strange vibes away. He took a step back. "Have a good
night, and thanks."

The stranger gave a polite nod and continued to stare.

Great, another nutcase… must've splashed on the wrong pheromone today.

Marty continued to back away a few more steps, then turned and fell into a fast walk.

A cold breeze with a rotten scent swept past him again. Marty looked over his shoulder. The
stranger was gone, but someone out there was watching him. He felt it.

***

When Marty stepped through the door of his room, the muscles of his arms and legs cramped and
tingled with a burning pain. He stripped and crawled into the shower, hoping for relief.

Eye of the Warrior - 13

After a few minutes the hot streams of water pouring over him finally started to ease the pain. He
looked down at the rest of his trim and muscled body and, with the exception of a few scrapes on
his palms and the back of his hands, everything was untouched and in its place.

The ache in his muscles subsided, but his guts churned as if someone had stirred them with a
rusty pipe. He closed his eyes, doubling over, and leaned against the wall until the pain faded.

When he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he understood why the stranger had stared at
him the way that he did. The colored contact lens that usually covered his right eye was missing.

Staring at his mismatched eyes, one honey-brown and one violet, he leaned forward and
wondered how he'd lost it.

A knot formed in his stomach and a stabbing pain in his gut forced him to double over again. He
grabbed the edges of the sink as his mind slipped into instant replay.

Bright lights coming toward him… a roaring engine, like a beast unleashed from the depths of
hell… the front-end of a black Mercedes… a flash of agony… his broken body airborne… a
hypodermic needle descending… searing pain… a violet light…

A burning sensation spread from the back of his right eye to the rest of his body. Marty reached
for the doorway, but his hand slipped, falling against the light switch on the wall. The lights
above the mirror flickered, then blew out. An electric charge jumped from the switch to Marty. It
traveled the length of his arm, triggering a full body muscle spasm.

He tumbled to the floor, shaking uncontrollably in the darkness.

"Your time has come," a man's voice said from the darkness.

Who are you?

Marty tried to scream, but the muscles in his throat contracted, leaving him without a voice or
breath. His limbs continued to jerk. His heart thrashed against his ribcage as he listened to the
creaking of the hardwood floor.

Moonlight streaming in through the blinds let Marty see the towering silhouette and broad
shoulders of the approaching man.
Marty closed his eyes. He didn't want to die, not tonight and not like this – naked on the floor of
a rented room with a stranger hovering over him.

Callused fingertips touched his forehead. They traveled downward, crossing the bridge of his
nose, and stopped briefly to trace the outline of his lips.

When the fingertips reached his chest, a warm wave of energy passed into him. He could breathe
again. His body stopped shaking and the pain faded.

Eye of the Warrior - 14

Marty opened his eyes. He felt lightheaded, as if he was floating.

The figure leaned in closer.

Marty inhaled the man's scent, sandalwood and musk, and felt the bristly hair of the unshaven
face brush against his cheek. The warm mist of the man's breath cascaded off the curves of his
ear.

A dream… has to be a dream.

"Your time has come, my love," the man said in a soothing melodic whisper. "I shouldn't be
here, but I had to warn you. You're in grave danger."

The words were a mysterious jumble to Marty. He could barely keep his eyes open.

"Trust no one and emerge quickly," the man continued. "Soon, things will be as they were, and I
pray that you'll forgive me."

The stranger's lips moved above his. They hovered for a moment, then came down. Another
warm influx of energy followed and his fears melted away. Curiosity and desire led him to part
his lips. The stranger's kiss was soft and warm, and tasted of strawberries and mint. Shivers of
recognition charged down Marty's spine. He knew this kiss. He knew this touch. He wanted
more.

Why couldn't all of his dreams be like this? He wanted to stay a while longer, but another was
calling him.

***

In the shadow of the dogwood tree, beneath the window of the historic inn, Barak listened to a
heartbeat. It was a human heartbeat.

He'd watched the man collide with the vehicle, soar through the air, slam against the asphalt, and
then stand and walk away. He sensed the power awakening within the man. There was no doubt
in his mind that he had his target now. His gut trembled with anticipation.

Barak breathed in the cool night air to quell his excitement. He decided he would sit back and
watch. He would wait for his prey to gain its strength and then strike when the time was right. He
was certain it would make for a more challenging and entertaining hunt.

Eye of the Warrior - 15

CHAPTER FOUR

Marty stared at the open road through dark sunglasses the following afternoon. He occasionally
glanced at the driver's side to see if Craig was still awake. His friend's unusual silence, and the
fact that no dance music blared out of the SUV's speakers, told him that Craig's hangover rivaled
his own.

His head throbbed. He'd woken up that morning not sure which parts of the previous night were
fantasy and which were reality. Images flashed in his mind, but some of them were too fantastic
or horrific to think real.

An image of himself lying in the middle of the street in a drunken stupor sent a shiver through
him. The alternative, waking up naked in a stranger's bed, flashed through his brain.

He almost laughed, until he remembered the scent of another man on the pillow and sheets of his
bed this morning. The memory of sandalwood and musk clung to his nostrils.

Marty licked his lips. The taste of strawberries and mint lingered.

He remembered the handsome stranger that had helped him to his feet. Had he followed Marty to
his room? Had something happened between them?

Marty started retracing his steps from the moment he'd left the club to the time he woke up, but a
wave of nausea zapped him back to the present. A burning sensation behind his right eye made
him wince. It hurt to think.

He lowered the window. The warm air helped reduce the burning pain to a dull ache. He laid his
head back and hoped sleep would take care of the rest.

The phone in his pocket vibrated. He pulled it out, but didn't recognize the number on the caller
ID.

Marty swore at himself under his breath for giving out his number to anyone who asked. He
turned off the phone and began counting the trailer homes they passed along highway 74 to help
him forget what he could remember of the previous night.

As his eyes closed, a faint voice spoke to him.

It's time, Marty. You must let me through.

Eye of the Warrior - 16

The tone of the whispering man was familiar. The image of a violet mist surrounding a star
flashed in his mind. Marty was too exhausted and nauseous to react. He wanted to sleep. He
wanted to forget. He figured it was a dream and let himself drift away.

***

Marty splashed cold water on his face to calm the wave of nausea that had attacked during his
final Tuesday night conference call with the West Coast.

He stared into the men's room mirror, wishing he hadn't partied so hard over the long weekend.

His right eye was bloodshot. The lens of the colored contact felt like sandpaper scraping against
his cornea. He plucked it out and let it slip down the drain. The relief was instant. He looked into
the violet iris and wondered why all the contacts he'd tried since his return to Charlotte gave him
the same reaction.

Marty attributed the nausea and occasional headache to his nerves, which still made him look
over his shoulder when the slightest snap or click occurred behind him.

It would pass soon enough. He was sure Sunday would be a faint memory by the time Friday
arrived.

Marty stared back at the man in the mirror with mismatched eyes wearing a pink shirt underneath
a charcoal gray suit and tie. He debated on whether or not to put in another contact. As
uncomfortable as it made him, he wasn't so sure about walking around his office or the streets
with one brown eye and one violet one. His dark hair and caramel complexion made the
mismatch even more obvious.

He remembered the odd looks and double takes he'd received from people when they'd noticed
his eyes. His parents had always told him it was a gift from God.

Growing up the only child of a criminal prosecutor and a tax accountant in Long Island, New
York, Marty had always suspected that Elena and Rey Cortez were his adoptive parents. Though
neither said a word, looking in the mirror reminded Marty that he resembled neither one of them.
He certainly hadn't inherited his mother's sandy hair, green eyes, or fair complexion. His dad's
deep brown skin and thick dark hair were closer to Marty's coloring, but their features were
totally dissimilar.

The shock of his life had come during his first year of college, when he went in search of his
birth certificate in his parents' bedroom closet and found documents detailing the assorted
reproductive therapies his mother had undergone the year prior to his birth. Marty would still not
have believed he was the result of the extensive list of therapies without seeing the letter from
Dr. Anil Reikiki, who'd administered the treatments, congratulating them on the birth of their
healthy son, Martin, and telling them not to worry about the odd color of his right eye; that he
was normal and perfectly healthy.

Eye of the Warrior - 17

After that day, Marty had figured that he probably resembled some long-lost relative and that the
shimmering violet eye was the result of some laboratory mishap.

Twelve years later, the idea that his conception had occurred on a glass dish still sent chills
through him. Marty turned away from the mirror and ran wet fingers through his hair.

He never went anywhere without covering up that eye. He smiled a little wryly at the thought of
the reaction he would get without the contact lens.

He glanced at his watch. It was twenty-five past seven and he'd promised Craig he'd make happy
hour. Already thirty minutes late, he reached for his cell phone to cancel, then realized he really
needed to celebrate a rare occurrence; getting out of the office before midnight.

A hand stopped the elevator doors from closing on the sixtieth floor of the Americas Bank
Tower. When they sprang back open, Marty was surprised to see that it belonged to Aidan
Bacchus, the bank's CIO.

He stole a glance at the man's profile. It had a rugged handsomeness to it. His purposefully
messy silver hair gave him a youthful and less conservative edge. Marty dared to label the CIO
as doable, under the right circumstances.

"Floor?" Marty asked, looking for an excuse to examine the cut of the man's dark suit and hear
his accent. Marty guessed New Zealand, or maybe Australia. His coworkers had their own
guesses, but no one was sure.

"Five, please," the CIO requested, without looking in his direction.

Elegant, handsome, great ass, and no personality, Marty concluded as he tapped the button on the
panel for the great Aidan Bacchus.

"Thank you, Mr. Cortez," Bacchus said as the doors closed.

Marty froze. Aidan Bacchus knew his name. Good thing or a bad thing? he wondered.

"Putting in long hours, I see," Bacchus said to Marty.

"Conference calls with the West Coast on the Pacifica Investments merger."

"I'm sure it's a challenging assignment."

"To say the least," Marty began, and caught himself before he blurted out the true status of the
Division President's pet project. The merger had become a technological nightmare for the bank.
Pacifica had few IT standards and a staff that was constantly on the defensive. Marty wanted out,
but having been with the bank for only two years, he knew he would have to see it through.

Eye of the Warrior - 18

"Well, I've been hearing good things about you. I'm sure you're up for the challenge, and so
much more."

Marty snapped his head toward Bacchus. The innuendo piqued his interest and his libido.

"Much more, meaning?" Marty asked.

The CIO turned to him. His lips curved into a smile.

Marty gazed into the metallic blue of his eyes, awaiting a response, when the voice in his head
began to whisper.

Bacchus… danger… Bacchus… danger…

A sudden tinge of recognition snaked its way through him.

"The greatest of achievements many times comes with the greatest of sacrifices." A chill crept
beneath Marty's skin as he listened to the CIO and the unyielding mantra in his head. "Before
one can truly achieve greatness they must first recognize that."

The elevator slowed. Marty wanted to break away from the calculating gaze, and silence that
damned voice in his head. The walls were closing in on him.

"Would you agree, Mr. Cortez?"

The elevator came to a stop, but the doors remained shut.

Though they'd stopped moving, Marty still felt as if he was freefalling through the elevator's
shaft. Hot and cold flashes assaulted him.

"I guess so," he finally answered, and the doors slid open.

Bacchus stepped out and turned to Marty. Their eyes locked once again. "Have a good evening,
Mr. Cortez."

The doors closed. When they opened in the lobby, the strange sensations and the voice faded.
Marty once again felt like himself. He rushed out of the tower, not wanting to believe that he was
losing his mind.

***

Bacchus slipped on a pair of shades and stepped out onto the uncovered top level of the parking
garage. He detested the crisp blue of the sky; it burned his eyes, but the sun's rays energized him.
Finally, Martin Cortez was ready. They had all waited long enough. It was time.

He pulled the cell phone from his jacket pocket, flipped it open, and dialed.

Eye of the Warrior - 19

"Commence Operation Drakan," he ordered. "The target is on his way. And remember, if it fails,
eliminate him."

Eye of the Warrior - 20

CHAPTER FIVE

Marty dismissed the idea that he was losing his mind the second he stepped into Pasha. The
vibrant reds and yellows of the abstract artwork, along with the earth-toned walls and subdued
lighting, made him feel as if he'd jetted off to another continent, instead of to the martini bar
around the corner. He swayed to the rhythms of the Middle Eastern-infused dance music while
waiting for an opening at the bar. This was exactly what he needed to forget the last few days of
his life. The tension that had gripped him during his walk over faded.

He scanned the room, picking up sound bites of various conversations. Jumping from face to
face it was easy for Marty to decipher the intentions of the men and women around him.
Charlotte's corporate elite in training were in a winner takes all race. The aroma of money and
sex intermingled with the scent of fine Turkish tobacco and premium Russian vodka.

Marty examined the closely shaven faces of the men in the room. Their eyes were intense and
determined, their hair stylishly unkempt, teeth perfect and white, and their fingernails carefully
manicured. Those wearing suits appealed most to Marty.

As he made eye contact with a few of the men in the room, a warm, horny feeling shifted within,
and the faint voice whispered to him.

Let me through. Damn it, let me through.

Did anyone else in this swanky bar hear nagging little voices in their head? He doubted it. If they
did, he was sure the tone and pitch of the voice was similar to their own. It would also be helpful,
like their conscience, warning them against eating that fourth slice of pizza or kissing a guy
while his boyfriend was in the room.

This voice was different and unlike his. It was a faint whisper requesting to be allowed through.
Two days of the same voice and the same request. Through the music and chattering voices
around him, the voice whispered.

A dull ache settled in his temples.

Just nerves and stress… It'll pass.

Marty was desperate for distraction and a drink. He flagged down a bartender and ordered a
double vodka tonic. He downed half the tall glass and by the time his lips left the rim of the
glass, the whisper had vanished along with the headache.

Eye of the Warrior - 21

He looked out into the crowd again and spotted Craig to his left, surrounded by a crowd. Craig
had the floor. His intense powers of seduction and classic blond-haired, blue-eyed, all-American
good looks made him one of Charlotte's most successful realtors and players.

Marty watched Craig work. He wasn't sure if his friend was attempting to seduce the full-figured
redhead, who had to be in her forties, sipping on a three-olive martini in front of him, or the
tanned man in the gray suit that towered behind her. His sparkling smile and perfect bone
structure triggered Marty's envy and admiration. He figured a million-dollar condo and date were
up for grabs tonight, and his pal was doing double duty.

Marty raised his glass to his best friend in a silent toast, hoping for the successful closure of both
deals before last call.

He stepped away from the bar and scanned the room again.
Ah, happy hour… the thrill of the hunt… What am I in the mood for tonight?

He laughed to himself as the thought crossed his mind. He'd had enough fun and drama over the
previous weekend to last him through the summer. All he needed tonight were his friends and his
vodka tonic.

He turned to head in the group's direction and collided with a man wearing a black suit with
pinstripes.

"I'm sorry," Marty said, while staring at the man's broad chest. Nice. When he looked up, a pair
of blue eyes peered down at him.

Did he know this guy?

Marty drank in the dark, wavy hair and square jaw. Handsome, vaguely familiar; maybe he
worked at the bank?

Marty smiled and made a comment about how crowded it was getting, as a wave of customers
for the bar suddenly surrounded them. He waited for a friendly response or even a rugged nod,
but only a cold and dangerous stare came his way.

It raised the bar on Marty's creep-o-meter. He excused himself and tried to walk past the man.

The man blocked his way and placed a hand on his left shoulder.

Anger and fear snaked through Marty. The muscles around his neck became stiff. The man came
closer and his grip tightened.

Marty tried to pull away, but there was no room for him to maneuver in the crowded bar, and the
hand held him in a vice-like grip.

Eye of the Warrior - 22

As the man leaned in, Marty inhaled the fading scents of soap and aftershave, mixed with the
pungent aroma of stale cigarettes.

"There is no excusing a traitorous bastard like you, Drakan," the man whispered.

The tall glass slipped from Marty's hand, shattering on the floor. A burning itch settled in the
back of his right eye and his vision blurred. In seconds, his eyes refocused. The menacing banker
blocking his way, and the crowded bar, gave way to a hazy vision.

A man dressed as a Roman gladiator, wrapped in a dark brown toga with a thick leather sash
tied around his waist, charged toward him. They fell to the ground. The back of his head
bounced off a cold, hard surface. A flurry of fists slammed into his face. He felt the stinging pain
of the blows until he grabbed both fists and held them.

It was the same man.

"I'll kill you, you traitorous bastard!"

The same hair. The same jaw. The same angry face. But his eyes were different. Still cold and
dangerous, but violet, like Marty's right eye.

The vision faded and a primal urge to retaliate seized Marty. Marty's right hand lunged for the
man's throat. "Is that any way to greet an old friend, Markus?" Marty heard the words pour from
his mouth, but didn't know why he was saying them.

The eyes of the man he'd called Markus narrowed. "When all is said and done, Nik," he said with
a low rasp to his voice, "I will take great pleasure in destroying you."

Marty tightened his grip. A fire raged in his brain and in the pit of his stomach. He stared into the
man's reddening face. He wanted to give one more squeeze and watch the son of a bitch suffer.

"Now, now, boys, we have another fifteen minutes before happy hour ends. Maiming and
strangulation are strictly forbidden until after eight," a feminine voice interrupted.

The seductive tone penetrated Marty's escalating rage, but he held tight to the man's throat,
unwilling to be the first to capitulate.

Slender fingers with a French manicure reached past Marty's face. When he felt the man's hand
release his collarbone, he loosened his grip and backed away.

With clenched fists and a racing heart, Marty watched the woman whisper into the man's ear.
She was tall, slender. The cut of her navy suit accentuated her voluptuous figure and the blonde
highlights in her brown hair brought a warm, golden glow to her skin.

Marty recognized her. She worked at the bank, several floors below him, in the International
Finance department. He wondered what she was saying.

Eye of the Warrior - 23

Who was Nik Drakan? There was something familiar about the name, but it didn't ring any bells
for him. This had to be a case of mistaken identity.

Even as the woman whispered, the man glared in his direction, his expression intensifying.

Rage spiraled its way through Marty from an unknown place. He wanted to reach for the man's
throat again.

Markus… Why did I call you an old friend? How do I know your name?

Markus pulled away from the woman and took a step toward Marty. He stopped and their eyes
locked.

Marty tightened his fists, ready for another round. His heartbeat accelerated and tiny droplets of
sweat formed on his brow. As he raised his foot to move in, Markus jerked his neck to the left
then to the right. Markus dispatched another icy glare toward Marty, then turned and pushed
through the crowd.

The woman turned toward Marty, tossing her hair back and smiling.

She was at home in her Amazon-like stature, moving with confident grace and uninhibited
sensuality. The subtle fragrance of jasmine surrounded her.

"Please forgive my brother; he doesn't do well in large crowds." Her fingers gently tapped
against his chest and the tension in his body washed away.

She signaled the bartender and ordered Marty another vodka tonic.

"You don't have to do that," Marty said when his drink arrived.

"It's the least I can do after his obnoxious behavior."

"Does he always make this big of an ass of himself in public?"

They both laughed.

Marty took a sip of his drink, as their laughter trailed off. The image of Markus from his vision
returned. The memory of the angry violet eyes brought back the tension into his neck and lower
back.

"It's as if we knew one another," he mumbled to himself as he stared off into nowhere. He took
another sip of his drink.

"Do you and Markus know one another?" she asked.

Eye of the Warrior - 24

The vodka burned as it lodged in his throat. Had he heard right? Was Markus really his name?

Marty shifted his gaze back to her. When his eyes found hers, he felt an immediate connection.
Was this the same woman he'd ridden an elevator with so many times over the past few months?
Maybe she only bore a striking resemblance to the woman who always wore her hair in a
ponytail and never lifted her eyes from the elevator's floor until it was time for her to exit.

"I don't think so," he finally replied.

"Maybe it was in another lifetime…"

Her words echoed in his head. The chatter that surrounded them vanished. A fiery tingle shot
from the base of Marty's skull to his forehead, and her eyes became a window to another world.

She stood before a night sky that was an odd patchwork of amber, blue, and purple. Her hair,
longer and blonder, flowed in the breeze. Her eyes shimmered like amethysts. Tears flowed from
them and rolled down her cheeks.

"Leyli…" Marty heard himself say in a long, breathless whisper. The image faded and he found
himself once again looking into her eyes.

She leaned in close and kissed him on the lips. As she pulled away, she whispered, "The time has
come, Nik." Her plump lips curved into a mischievous grin. She wished him a good night, then
slipped into the crowd.

The tang of her melon-flavored lipstick lingered on his lips as he watched her negotiate her way
through the room and out the bar's entrance.

Marty caught the curious eye of his best friend from the other end of the bar. Craig came toward
him with a smile on his face and a drink in hand. "What the hell was that all about?" Craig asked,
patting him on the back.

Marty scratched his head. "I wish I knew."

"Did she scare you straight? And what's going on with your eyes? Halloween is still a long ways
away."

Marty put on a weary smile. The last thing he wanted to do was talk, or think, about anything
serious. He glanced past Craig. "Tell me about the dirty deals you have brewing in your cauldron
tonight."

Eye of the Warrior - 25

CHAPTER SIX

It was ten past midnight when Marty finally tore himself away from Pasha's embrace.

On his way back toward the bank's parking garage, thoughts of Markus and Leyli infiltrated his
mind. Had Craig not asked him about the woman who kissed him at the bar, Marty would have
thought both she and Markus were just another hallucination. Markus and that crazed look in his
eyes were real. The macho asshole had to be drunk, Marty presumed, though he didn't remember
smelling any alcohol on the man’s breath. Even if Markus was drunk, she wasn't, and they'd both
called him Nik. Who was Nik Drakan?

Nik Drakan… Nik Drakan… Nik Drakan…

The faint voice was back and stuck in a cycle of repetitive whispering.

The back of his head started to ache again as he stepped into the elevator. He ignored the
relentless whisperer and thought of the visions. They made no sense. They reminded him of a
childhood fantasy where everyone around him had eyes like his. Those daydreams he'd called at
will. These images forced their way into his mind.

Was he losing it? Hearing voices and seeing things… Maybe a tumor the size of grapefruit
festered under his skull. When the elevator doors opened, the voice went silent. Marty convinced
himself that all he needed was a hot shower, some aspirin, and his comfortable bed. Tomorrow
would be a fresh start. He would say goodbye to his favorite flavored vodkas, and sobriety would
become his new best friend.

A cool breeze filled with the aroma of rotting garbage wafted past as he spotted the only vehicle
left on the fourth floor parking deck; his Jeep Wrangler.

As he walked toward the Jeep, another putrid breeze swirled about him. A trickle of fear ran
down his spine and a stabbing sensation at the base of his skull brought him to his knees. Marty
held his breath and gripped the sides of his head. The sound of a fast moving vehicle climbing
the parking deck buzzed in his ears. He knew he had to get out of the way before the car reached
his level, but the searing pain paralyzed him. He took deep breaths in an attempt to the block the
pain from his conscious thoughts.

Marty managed to lift his head. The trickle of fear became a raging torrent, as a black Mercedes
rounded the corner. He stopped breathing as his eyes fixed on the car's signature emblem. His
heartbeat accelerated. The car's high beams flashed in his face.

Eye of the Warrior - 26

Oh, my God… It wasn't a dream.

The ache in his head became an atomic explosion as he stared into the blazing white lights.
Before he could comprehend what was happening, he felt his body rise and his legs move of their
own accord.

Marty ran at the car as it raced toward him. He heard the sound of his voice, a deep, visceral cry,
over the sound of the engine. He took a flying leap and his left foot touched down on the hood of
the moving vehicle. He flipped over its roof and came down on the concrete behind it.

The Mercedes stopped two yards away, its engine purring.

Marty stared at the back of the car. The muscles in his back and legs tightened. His skin tingled
with a cool, prickly sensation and his head continued to feel as if World War III was at its height.

How'd I do that?

His senses went into maximum overdrive. Through the aroma of asphalt and exhaust, there was
something rank. He heard the whispering voices of a couple on the street below. Someone
inhaled and exhaled nearby. Intermingled with them all was a strange, repetitive sound – two
quick taps followed by a knock: tap-tap-knock. It was faint, like the voice in his head, but he was
almost sure this was not happening in his mind.

He took another whiff of the air around him and caught the scent of a rat. A big one, smelling of
soap and aftershave mixed with the nauseating stench of stale cigarettes.

Marty clenched his fist. "Marrrrkus, you coward!" he shouted, as he took two steps forward. An
eruption in the pit of his stomach sent acid into the back of his throat. "Step out of that car and
face me like a man!"

He waited. The car's engine revved and Marty took two more steps. "Come out, or I'll rip you
from it with my bare hands!"

The car sped into reverse, coming for him.

Marty ran toward it, again becoming airborne, but this time he latched onto the car’s roof with
his left hand. He curled the other into a fist and drove it through the windshield on the driver's
side. The tires screeched as the car came to a halt, sending Marty over the hood and onto the
ground.

He jumped to his feet and ran after the retreating Mercedes. Blood dripped from his fist, but he
only felt the fire raging beneath his skin. He wanted to tear Markus' heart from his chest.

He stood poised and ready to do battle, hoping the Mercedes would make a return trip. His
heightened senses detected the hum of the car's engine moving farther away. When it was gone,

Eye of the Warrior - 27

he stood still and held his breath. Someone else was near. Someone was breathing. Someone was
licking his or her lips. Someone was lying in wait. The tap-tap-knock was louder, closer.

Using his acute sense of smell, Marty sniffed the air. The faint rotten scent was present again.
More exhaust, burned rubber, and the clean sweat of a man sprinkled with smooth cologne.

He followed the sounds of the heartbeat and breathing to the far corner near his Jeep. The scent
of a man grew stronger.

Marty stepped into the alcove where the public access elevators were located. Steel cables pulled
up the elevator closest to the door. It stopped on the floor below. Its doors opened, then shut. The
heart that was not his own maintained a slow and steady rhythm as it drew near.

Marty held his breath again and listened. The elevator continued its ascent.

Marty positioned himself directly in front of the doors, with teeth clenched and fists ready to
attack. He glanced at his bloody fist, then fixed his eyes on the steel doors and waited. The
elevator came to a slow stop. Marty drew his fist back, his heart pounding in his throat.

The doors squeaked open.

"What the…?" Marty whispered into the empty elevator.
The scent was stronger. The breathing and heartbeat, louder. Footsteps approaching from behind
made Marty spin around with his fist in the air.

The man caught his bloody fist.

Marty moved to strike with the other, until he recognized the intense eyes and swept-back, dark
hair. He stood face to face with the man that had crouched beside him in the middle of the street
on Sunday night.

He looked deep into the mysterious eyes of the man who was still dressed in black, this time
without the skull and crossbones T-shirt. He drew in the man’s scent and his racing heart slowed
until their two hearts beat in unison. A vision of the man naked sprang into Marty's mind.

A soft amber glow illuminated the dark. He lay on his back, asleep, above a golden blanket. His
left hand supported the back of his head, the other rested on his stomach. Each breath he took
accentuated the masculine curves of his body. His thick, flaccid cock, surrounded by the only
patch of dark hair on his body, lay against his inner thigh.

Marty felt the warmth of that inner thigh against his palm. Before his fingers reached the head of
the sleeping cock, the stranger's eyes opened and a pair of violet eyes stared back at him.

Marty returned with a jolt of warm energy. It rushed from his chest to his hardening dick. This
was no stranger. He was sure of that. He knew his name and whispered it. "Luka…"

Eye of the Warrior - 28

Marty pulled his fist away and let his open hand fall against Luka's chest. Through the cotton
fabric of Luka's T-shirt, Marty felt a pounding heart.

Luka cupped his face and pulled him closer. Their eyes locked on one another as their bodies
touched. The fire ravaging Marty's body transformed from pain to pleasure.

Though he could not be certain about everything that had happened up to this point, Marty was
sure that this moment was no dream or hallucination. The warm, solid body pressing against his
was real. The heart beating against his was real. Marty closed his eyes and accepted Luka's kiss.
The soft lips pressing against his were warm and, oh, so real.

The elevator doors slid open again. They stumbled in, and as it started to climb, Luka slammed
his fist against the emergency stop button.

Their hungry mouths devoured one another.

Sandwiched between the elevator doors and Luka, Marty's hands explored Luka's firm ass. The
spicy flavor of Luka's full lips left Marty begging for more as they moved away from his and
journeyed down to his neck.

Marty quivered as the warm mouth bit into him. He groaned from the extreme pleasure and ran
his fingers through Luka's hair.

The buttons on Marty's shirt ricocheted off the walls as Luka's powerful hands pulled it open.
Marty felt Luka's hungry lips searching the smooth surface of his chest, leaving their mark and
sending chills through him.

He threw his hands in the air, slamming them against the steel doors, unaware of the impressions
left by his forceful blows.

Their mouths once again found one another. Luka's fingers dipped below Marty's waist and
teased the head of his stiff cock. As Luka bit down on his lower lip, Marty felt Luka's palm press
against the lower half of his sternum.

Luka squeezed the base of his cock and a prickly, warm sensation rushed into Marty through his
chest. His eyes rolled upward. He stopped breathing. Every nerve ending in his body screamed
for more.

"Oh, God," Marty groaned, as shockwaves traveled throughout him like a racing pinball
ricocheting off his pleasure centers.
As he burned with desire, the blazing sensation returned. The same searing pain rocked his brain.

Take me, Luka… Leave me, Luka… Fuck me, Luka…

Eye of the Warrior - 29

Desperate for air, Marty pulled away from Luka's lips. His head slammed against the door,
denting the metal. His vision blurred, but he still saw the opaque green light emanating between
Luka's palm and his chest.

Still breathless, and caught between desire and desperation, Marty looked into the narrowed and
serious dark eyes before him. "What's happening?" he asked, struggling for every breath.

Luka said nothing.

Get away… get away… get away… whispered the voice in his head.
The pressure on his chest mounted. Marty knew he had to listen to the voice. He placed his hands
on Luka's shoulders to push the man away, but it was too late. He didn't have the strength. His
hands fell to his sides and he slipped into oblivion.

Eye of the Warrior - 30

CHAPTER SEVEN

Nik Drakan… the voice whispered to Marty when he opened his eyes.

The morning sun came in through the glass doors leading to the back patio. It stung his eyes and
warmed his exposed chest as he lay on his living room sofa. His body ached. His right hand
throbbed. His lips were sore.

He looked down. The buttons were missing from his shirt. His trousers, soiled and torn at the
knee. He pulled his right hand from between the seat cushions and saw that it was caked with
blood. A crusty film covered the knuckles.

Marty sat up and rubbed his head, trying to remember what had happened. Images flashed
through his brain, all too fantastic to consider real. He gazed at his right hand again. Blood
covered the torn cuffs of his shirt and jacket. The casing of the titanium watch his mother had
given him for his twenty-first birthday was shattered and smeared with his blood. The gold hands
were still visible and frozen at 12:25 a.m. He poked at a chunk of glass, the size of a pea,
embedded in the metal band.

"What in hell did you do last night?" He searched through his mind for a logical answer, but only
came back to the insane image of himself ramming his fist into the windshield of a car.

"And you have X-ray vision, too," he said aloud, half-jokingly.

He laughed, then saw the time on the cable box. It was a quarter past seven. He was going to be
late. Another important meeting for that damned merger.

When he stood, a throbbing ache surfaced in his head and the room spun. Work would have to
wait for a shower and a cup of coffee.

Hot water poured over his body, soothing the ache in his muscles. To his surprise, the water did
more than calm and soothe. The caked blood washed clean away. The back of his hand was
tender, but there wasn't a cut or bruise in sight.

When he licked his lips, he remembered kissing a beautiful blonde Amazon he'd called Leyli.
And then there was Luka, the stranger from Wilmington. All hot, bothered, and primal in… an
elevator? That couldn't be right. That made just about as much sense as Marty somehow
knowing that his name was Luka.

Eye of the Warrior - 31

Marty pushed away the odd memories and placed his face under the powerful showerhead. As
usual, too much to drink.

On a Tuesday night; for Chrissakes, Marty, you're turning into a fucking alcoholic.

A sudden ache in his left shoulder blade catapulted him to his vision of Markus and their
standoff by the bar.

He knew them. He knew them all before last night, he was sure of it. He ransacked his mind
trying to find the when, where, and how, but nothing came to him.

Maybe in another lifetime… The inner voice spoke to him. This time it wasn't far away. He heard
the distinct male voice clearly.

Marty started to laugh. Even with the hot water streaming over his head, the tone of his own
laughter sent a terrifying chill through him. It was devoid of cheer or pleasure. His body shook
uncontrollably. A month before, he'd flushed a bottle of antidepressants down the toilet because
they weren't working. Now he knew why. He wasn't depressed. He was stark raving mad.

Marty turned the water off and leaned against the tiled wall. There had to be a logical
explanation for all of this, but it was too big for him to figure it all out on his own and he wasn't
ashamed to admit it.

He opened the shower door and reached for his cell phone on the counter next to the toothpaste.
Dr. Vassir's office was on speed dial.

Zelma, the doctor's office manager, answered.

"Today's your lucky day," she said, after Marty pleaded for a same day appointment. "I think I
can squeeze you in. How's 4:15?"

Marty thanked her, then turned the water back on and stood there hoping to drown out the voice
now demanding to be set free.

Eye of the Warrior - 32

CHAPTER EIGHT

Marty arrived ten minutes early for his appointment. Chatting with Zelma while he waited eased
his mind and made him feel like he still had a grip on reality. Zelma's quick and cutting wit
always made his wait seem like seconds. She was a more voluptuous version of Pam Grier's
Foxy Brown, with a mountain of thick black curls on her head. Her chestnut eyes smoldered as
they looked into his.

The tiny gold beads along the neckline of her clinging lime green dress sparkled in the artificial
office light.

Marty leaned his elbows on the reception desk. His eyes dropped to her ample and buoyant
breasts.

"Dazzling as always. Will you marry me?" he teased, with a smile. "We would make beautiful
babies together."

"And how would we make those babies, honey?"

His eyes moved upward with slow, deliberate intent, past her neck, her glossed lips, until they
met the sensual slant of her eyes. "A bungalow on Bora Bora… a bottle of Cristal… fresh
strawberries… and the hottest, hunkiest man in the South Pacific we can get our hands on."

They both laughed and continued to tease one another until Zelma's phone rang and she
disappeared into the doctor's office.

Marty took a seat in the waiting area and thumbed through the afternoon edition of the Charlotte
Observer. Terrorism, taxes, and the next twelve skyscrapers proposed for the city dominated the
first three pages. A column titled - Young Executive Disappears - and the accompanying photo in
the lower right corner of the fourth page caught his eye. The face belonged to Antonio
Manzanetti, the Americas Bank's newest and youngest Assistant Vice President. He remembered
seeing Antonio's smiling face as he rushed through the halls.

A vivid image of Antonio dancing at Isis on Sunday night popped into Marty's head. He'd been
going to say hello, but a muscle-bound bartender selling Jell-O shots wouldn't get out of his way
until he'd bought two and dropped a tip into the jock of the guy’s G-string. When he'd scanned
the dance floor again, Antonio was in the arms of a well-proportioned stud.

Was that the night he'd disappeared?

Eye of the Warrior - 33

Marty skimmed the article. It mentioned Memorial Day weekend and Wilmington, but nothing
else. He tossed the newspaper on the chair beside him and stared through the glass wall at the
gardens. He wasn't surprised by the lack of detail. Would Antonio's face make it on all the cable
news shows? He was handsome enough, but Marty doubted he would catch an episode of either
Nancy Grace or Greta Van Susteren demanding answers from Wilmington's finest.

Thoughts of that night brought him back to why he was sitting in his therapist's waiting room.
He'd done an excellent job all day of avoiding any thoughts related to what had happened to him
since that night. He'd kept himself busy worrying about software designs, IT off-shoring, and
organizational restructuring. Marty was well aware of his talent for compartmentalizing and
avoiding, but now he was coming undone. There was something inside him. He didn't care to
know what it was or why it was there. He just wanted it to go away.

***

Dr. Samina Vassir tapped the eraser of her pencil against the surface of her cherrywood desk,
then let the pencil fall. She whirled around and stared out of the floor-to-ceiling window of her
third-story office. She kept her dark eyes on the greenery of the garden below to avoid the pain
that came with staring directly at a cloudless sky. She loved the warmth of the Southern spring,
especially as the late afternoon humidity settled in, but it did little to quell the chill passing
through her.

She turned back to the desk and glanced at Marty's file. He was unlike any of the others. Last
man standing, and still resisting. They had run out of options and she was out of patience. She
listened to his approaching footsteps, hoping her extreme actions hadn't been in vain.

***

"No offense, Doc, but I wasn't looking forward to seeing you again," Marty said as soon as he sat
in the brown leather armchair.

She sat on the matching armchair next to him.

Now that he was here, he wanted to leave. Why was he back to square one again? He was
supposed to be able to handle all of this on his own. He always had.

He'd dealt with being the only child of overachieving parents. He'd dealt with the whole
laboratory conception thing. He'd dealt with being the only kid in P.S. 121 with mismatched eyes
– mostly by never looking up from the floor until colored contacts became his salvation. He'd
dealt with falling in and out of love with the quarterback of his high school football team.

He was the wonder boy; straight A's all the way… handsome… executive management
material… He'd had it all. He'd also had the best parents in the world. They'd spoiled him rotten.
How many mothers would join PFLAG and then throw a coming out party, and invite all the
sexy, eligible, bachelor sons of her new girlfriends?

Eye of the Warrior - 34

If it was all so good and right, why was it all spinning out of control? He wanted it to stop. He
wanted answers, and knew Dr. Vassir could help him.

She wore an elegant mustard tunic with a jeweled neckline, cut above the knee over brick red
pants. He'd always thought she seemed much too young to be in this line of work. At his first
visit, he'd expected someone with gray hair and plenty of wrinkles to help guide him on the right
path in life. With the exception of a few silver streaks in the lustrous black hair she kept wrapped
in a neat bun, Dr. Vassir had neither of those. He'd been surprised to be greeted by a strikingly
beautiful Indian woman, but by the end of their first session her warmth and sensitivity had won
him over and removed any doubts concerning her professional abilities.

After a few seconds of looking into her non-judgmental eyes, Marty felt better. Now he wanted
her to wave her magic wand and make all his troubles disappear.

Instead, she sat with her legs crossed and a pen and pad on her lap. "How are you doing these
days?" she asked.

"The fact that I'm sitting here probably answers that question."

"Are you out of sorts again? Not feeling quite like yourself?" she inquired.

He loved her refined accent, an accent he couldn't quite place. A strange sense of déjà vu crept
through him as the thought crossed his mind. It chilled him for a moment, then his mind raced on
as he glanced at the many diplomas on the wall behind her desk. He thought about her question
again and wondered if that was the Queen's English for, 'Lost track of your fucking marbles
again?'

"Yep – they've slipped out of my hand again," he mumbled then realized he was answering the
wrong question and turned his attention to her. "It's more than me not feeling quite right or all
here." He paused. How could he say what he wanted to say and still leave this office without two
escorts and a straitjacket? "It's like my life is one gigantic jigsaw puzzle…" His voice trailed off
and he stood up and went to the window. "Some pieces are missing, and I can't make any sense
out of the ones I'm holding in my hands. I'm hearing voices… I'm seeing things that aren't real,
and I'm remembering things that could never have happened." He fixed his gaze on the
wildflowers growing in the garden below and recounted what he could remember between
Sunday night and this morning.

Saying it out loud made Marty feel better, but he was still waiting for two burly men in white to
burst through the door and haul him away.

He listened to the doctor clear her throat as she flipped the page in her pad.

What was she writing? His vivid imagination conjured the letters on the page.

Lunatic! A danger to self and others! Must medicate! Maximum-strength, please!

Eye of the Warrior - 35

"Are you absolutely sure that what you are hearing and seeing is not indeed reality?" she asked.

Marty turned. He laughed, thinking she couldn't be serious. "Someone's trying to kill me and I'm
hearing voices." He laughed again, then sat back down and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm
not the professional here, Doc, but these sound more like paranoid delusions than reality. Maybe
I'm delusional right now. You're saying one thing and I'm hearing another." He covered his face
with his hands. "I'm losing it… I'm really losing it. And I can't get that damned name out of my
head."

"Marty, I assure you that I, my words, and everything around you, are very real."

He felt the tug of her fingertips on his wrists and lowered his hands.

"Now, what name can't you get out of your head?"

Marty didn't have to think long. He stood up again. "Nik Drakan," he said, as he looked toward
the window.

"Who is Nik Drakan?" she probed further, her tone slow and deliberate.

"I have absolutely no idea." Marty shook his head. The ache returned to the base of his skull.
"Maybe there's something physically wrong with me. There's this burning sensation in my head."
Frustrated and in pain, he paced. "I want things to be the way they were. A year ago, I was happy
with my job, my friends… my life in general. Now, it's all a mess."

The doctor rose from her chair and stood in front of him. Their eyes connected.

"Maybe you need to look deeper into yourself to discover what it is you're seeking and who you
truly are."

Marty no longer saw the sweet earth mother who cradled the world in her soft arms. Her eyes
were hard and penetrating. The dull ache in his brain intensified.

Don't trust her. Get away… get out now.

He nodded, agreeing with the voice. "I have some place I need to be."

Dr. Vassir smiled gracefully and stepped in his way as he tried to walk past her. "Try to relax and
remember to take deep breaths and let yourself dive deeper into your sacred center. When you're
there, all will be revealed."

A stabbing pain ignited Marty's keen senses. He detected a heart beating and a masculine scent
nearby. Both were familiar. He flicked a quick glance over his shoulder. His eyes zeroed in on
the door leading to the adjacent office. Someone was standing on the other side, listening to
every word.

Eye of the Warrior - 36

"Please have a seat, Marty, and we can try right now."

His eyes returned to the doctor's smiling face. Someone was after him, and the good doctor knew
something. Who? Why? He wanted answers, now.

Get away, now!

The pain intensified. He held his breath and every muscle in his body tightened. "No, I really
have to go." Marty forced the words from his throat and pushed past the doctor.

Eye of the Warrior - 37

CHAPTER NINE

As soon as Zelma had informed Dr. Vassir that Marty had raced past reception and out of the
suite, the door to the neighboring office creaked open.

Luka stood in the doorway.

"Now that he's gone, I'd like some answers."

She had neither the time nor the patience for this, but for now, she knew her only choice was to
play along with him.

"You disobeyed a direct order, Major Cordova."

"And which order might that be, Senator? So many have come my way these past few days, I've
lost track."

"Your interference last night could have proven fatal."

His eyes bore down on her. "No more fatal than that concoction you injected into him." With
arms folded across his chest, he stepped into the office and went to the window. "It's been two
months since I opened my eyes to this burning sky. It took me several days to realize that I was
alive… that I was a living, breathing being in a strange world. Imagine the looks on all the faces
when I crawled from the rubble of that bombed out café in Tel-Aviv." He turned to her. "The
doctors couldn't explain how I healed so quickly. They all said I should have died. They were
partially right – Andres Membarak did die in that explosion, and Major Luka Cordova was
reborn."

Invisible tendrils slithered over the surface of her brain, trying to find a way into her memory
stores. She looked away to fight the psychic assault.

"How could that be, Dr. Vassir? How in the name of our Creator could that be? I ask you this
because I am well aware of Project Providence and your hand in it. How did you manage to turn
science on its ear, yet again, to create the impossible? From Provenshia to Earth… hundreds of
light years, I imagine… How did we get here, Doctor? And what do the republics want with
Earth?"

Even though her eyes were focused on the garden, the pressure from the psychic probe
continued. She felt herself weakening. There was only one thing to do; let him in. Doing it now,

Eye of the Warrior - 38

while she had enough strength to control what she revealed, would be enough to keep the major
in line for the completion of his mission.

Dr. Vassir leaned against the edge of her desk. She took a long deep breath, then looked into
Luka's eyes.

***

In mind, he was Luka Cordova. In body, everything but his left eye reminded him of the adult
Kailosian warrior he was whenever he caught sight of his reflection. This place, with its blue
sky, odd structures, and strange inhabitants told him he was as far as he could get from his home
world of Provenshia. Seeing Nik, being near him, brought him closer to home. The taste of Nik
still lingered on his lips. Nik called himself Martin Cortez, but Luka felt Nik trapped somewhere
deep inside of Martin.

Another world, another lifetime, but Nik Drakan remained in his heart. A cruel twist of fate? A
second chance? Why was this happening to them?

So many questions ran through his brain, but the doctor only had orders.

Damn her orders! He wanted answers and his previous life had taught him was that the only way
to extract the truth from a politician was to rip it out of them.

Staring into her disguised eyes, he wondered if this body, whatever it was he was reborn into –
Earthling or Provenshian – could survive the massive hemorrhaging to the brain that a mind
probe always caused. He decided he would have to risk it. He needed answers and this was the
only way to get them.

Eye of the Warrior - 39

CHAPTER TEN

It was as he remembered, like tumbling down a waterfall. Extremely dangerous, but still the
same thrill ride. Every nerve ending in his body tingled. Soon, a drowning sensation overcame
him, but it vanished quickly and in its place a lightheaded weightlessness took over. He landed in
the dark universe of her mind. Tiny flashes of light sparked around him. In the distance, a
multicolored lightning storm raged in front of a large, white sphere.

The intensity of the storm did not surprise him. Even in her subdued state, he expected as much
from the brain of the most revered and knowledgeable scientist and politician in all of
Provenshia. Luka propelled himself toward the dangerous storm, trying not to think of what he
was sure would happen next.

A bolt of lightning struck him as he entered the storm, sending waves of searing pain through his
own brain. Again and again, flashes of lightning managed to find and strike him. Payment for his
intrusion on the good doctor, he figured.

Four strikes later, he reached the enormous sphere. The pressure in his frontal lobe told him he
would not have much time if he wanted to survive. Not willing to waste a moment of it, Luka
propelled himself into the blinding light.

Random images and sound bites of her life flashed in his mind as if he was the doctor herself.

He came to a stop in a valley. She was resting on a blanket, caressing the blades of grass beneath
her fingertips. A warm, gentle breeze wrapped around her as she gazed at the reddish-brown
mountain range and the violet-amber sky in the distance.

Staring at the mountains, his childhood home, the home of his people, made him homesick.

The air around her was curiously sweet. It reminded him of the golden flowers that only sprouted
from the crevices of the red clay hills and mountains.

"For you, my love," a man whispered from behind her, and a pale hand holding one of those tiny
flowers appeared before her.

Luka wanted to stay longer and stare off into the Kelarian Mountain range, but he knew had no
right to spy on the doctor's intimate past. He released the memory and before he could
accidentally latch on to another, he issued a telepathic whisper to pull only the memories he
needed.

Eye of the Warrior - 40

Project Providence…

The random images cleared and the white light returned. The pressure in his brain increased. In a
sudden rush, a new series of images bombarded his mind. An endless list of formulas and
equations filled his head. None of it made sense and all of it was useless to him. The pain grew,
but Luka maintained control, fast-forwarding through years of memories.

He slowed when a particular journal entry caught his eye. Her pen flowed freely across the page
as she sat surrounded by her books, beakers, test tubes, and a model of a strand of Provenshian
DNA.

Year: 4019 Day: 172

I've finally done it – unlocked the secret code of our DNA. Tonight, I can say that none of the
things I have sacrificed have been in vain. It is not to say I don't miss him. I always will, and
some part of me will always mourn the future we may have had, but to know now that sometime
in the very near future disease, hunger, and old age will be part of our past is a great comfort to
me. Gaining the approval from the United Council of Republics to launch a multi-national team
and begin experiments is more than I ever dreamed it could be. Maybe this will finally bring
peace between the republics. The citizens of Enos, Kailos, and Lydia can see that beyond our
differences, we are all the same. Maybe this will lead to an end of the suspicions and intrigues.
Maybe we can truly live in peace.

The pressure intensified. Luka absorbed the information and forced himself farther inside her
head. He needed more. He slowed when the sounds of crying infants filled a memory.

The image of five glass incubators in the center of an otherwise empty gray room came to him.
An amber glow emanated above the kicking and screaming babies within their incubators.

Dr. Vassir paced before them, scribbling in her journal.

Year: 4022 Day: 65

Five live births out of seven. My heart goes out to the couples that I must send home childless.
The five remaining children are the healthiest I have ever seen. The council will not be happy
with the imbalance – three Enosian babies, one Kailosian, and one of mixed breed. Only one
girl… I should have requested the team to tweak the specifications a bit more when we had the
chance. Given our success, I'm certain many healthy girls will be born very soon. We'll try again
with couples 987675 and 987676 – twin girls and twin boys will be our target… both sets being
Kailosian, of course. That should pacify the Kailosian council representatives and extend the
necessary funding to keep the project alive. I expect the Lydians will participate, now that we
have managed to create life with Project Providence.

What strong and powerful lungs they all have. So very special you all are - Leyli, Markus,
Gabriel, Luka and last, but certainly not least, Nikolas. I predict that you all, and many more like

Eye of the Warrior - 41

you, will show Enosians and Kailosians how we can peacefully coexist and how great we can be
if we come together in peace.

Another searing jolt forced him to leave, immediately landing him in the next memory.

A beaker filled with a luminous red liquid smashed against a whiteboard covered with equations.
She sank to the floor and pulled her journal from her lab coat pocket.

Year: 4022 Day: 132

Damn them… How could this have happened?

The only reason I am about to write this here is because if I do not, I will destroy the only place
in this forsaken world that brings me solace. Infants 987675 and 987676 were perfectly healthy
and normal. How could they? They took a vow to hold all life sacred. Instead, they murdered two
defenseless children as they took their first breaths. Two Kailosian babies dead at the hands of
the Enosians. The only reason Luka Cordova managed to survive was due to his parents'
insistence on maintaining their traditions. The birth rites of the cave dwelling clans of the south
only permit the father to deliver the child. I am truly thankful for their ancient beliefs now. The
hybrid child – Nikolas Drakan - survived because of his parents' immense wealth. Will this keep
them safe? The Drakan child maybe… the Cordova's I doubt. I must get word to the parents. But,
how do I tell them this and hide a more hideous truth? The tests have just confirmed what I
feared when I discovered the anomalies in the samples of DNA I collected from the children
before handing them off to their parents. What do I say? Yes, your children will grow up to be
healthy, intelligent, and live very long lives… and by the way, minor alterations to their DNA
will make them the fiercest warriors our world has ever known.

I should have known when I saw the eager looks on the faces of the republic's Defense Ministers
during my briefings, and I should have never left the day-to-day tasks of the project in the hands
of junior associates. I have no proof, but I'm sure Dr. Anil Reikiki was somehow behind this.
How could he betray his own people? If only I'd checked and double-checked the final
alterations. What do I do now? Who do I tell? How do I stop them?

I only wanted to make our world a better place for all to live. I never thought my greatest gift
would be a catalyst for its destruction. Maybe the Great War is no longer a myth… now that I
have provided the republics with a formula for the ultimate warrior.

Tears fell from the doctor's face onto the last two words, smudging the dark ink.

Luka pulled away. He was already familiar with his origins. He needed more to understand the
how, why, and what of his rebirth. Somewhere in the past, he hoped, lay the answers.

When an image of the towering Kelarian Mountains appeared again, Luka came to a screeching
halt. Twin moons lit the night sky. He could not remember the last time he'd been so close to
home. What was the doctor doing here?

Eye of the Warrior - 42

A shuttlecraft descended from the sky and into a cavern several hundred feet above the base of
the mountain.

The doctor, concealed in a dark cloak, made her way through the dangerous, narrow ledge. Gold
flowers lined the crevice between the ledge and the mountain wall. She shuffled along quickly,
occasionally looking behind her. The steep drop-off to her left appeared not to concern her.

Memories of his childhood tried to intrude on his psychic invasion, but Luka held them at bay.

She came to a round wooden door and began pounding on it with both fists.

The door swung open.

Luka's heart stopped.

"Why are you still here?" the doctor shrieked at his father. Before this, he'd only had vague
images of the man. Now, standing before him and seeing him through Dr. Vassir's eyes, a lump
formed in Luka's throat. His emotions began to affect his telepathic power and the memory
started to pull away. Luka took a deep breath and suppressed his feelings, bringing his father's
face back into focus. "The Enosians are on their way. The peace agreement signed at sundown
hands over this quadrant of the mountain range. You must take your belongings and your family
and leave at once."

Luka remembered the giant of a man in the worn gray tunic. His father glared at the doctor as he
stood aside to let her in. His long, curly dark hair, wiry black beard, and thick eyebrows made
him fiercer looking than Luka recalled.

Dr. Vassir took three steps down, into the dark. Eight tiny spheres of light came to life and
whirled their way up to the ceiling, brightening the room. It seemed smaller than Luka
remembered. The inner walls of the dwelling were jagged and sparkled from the reflection of the
soft light. Colorful pillows and fabrics lay in front of the stone hearth, where a dying flame still
lingered.

His father came down beside the doctor, swatting away one of the hovering spheres of light that
circled about his left ear as he spoke. "This is our home, Doctor. These hills belong to the
Kelarian. They have for centuries. Our clan has survived the foolish rule of Kailos. I'm sure we'll
manage to do the same under Enos."

"You may be right, and the clan and your way of life will be fine, but you and your family will
not. Part of the peace accord was to end Project Providence and eliminate the remaining
offspring."

A look of horror came over his father's face. "So the great experiment comes to an end after four
years. Why would they want to murder defenseless children?"

Eye of the Warrior - 43

"Are the great republics so fearful of an innocent child?" His mother stepped out from the
shadows to ask her own question.

Still beautiful, and so young. Streams of black hair wound their way past her narrow, caramel-
colored face and continued past her waist. Holding her hand, Luka saw himself; a skinny little
imp with a pile of lifeless hair covering his eyes. He was clinging to his mother's tattered
nightdress. He still remembered that awful night. It had come back to him in his nightmares for
many years.

"Not of the children themselves, but of the adults they may become," Dr. Vassir answered with
some hesitation.

"Will the Mayor of Kailan surrender his child? What about the Enosian families?" His mother's
tears flowed freely as she spoke. "Will they so easily hand over the children they so desperately
wanted?"

"They all have great wealth and political power to shield them. You have neither," she declared
in an urgent and clear tone. "And, to make things worse, you are Kailosian, no matter what clan
you belong to, and now you are at the mercy of Enos. If you don't flee farther into Kailosian-
controlled territory, they will make sure that the extermination order is carried out."

"Damn you politicians and scientists!" his father exploded. "We're as meaningless as the rubble
beneath your feet, isn't that true, Dr. Vassir? Take our land and give it away in the name of
peace. Inject us with your chemicals to make us better citizens. Create the perfect child and then
toss him off the side of a cliff when he did not turn out as expected. And now we must run… all
because you decided to step in and make our lives better."

A deep sigh escaped the doctor. "Rahmal… Shyla… I would not be here if your lives were
meaningless to me. You're right; had I not tried to change the world we live in, you both would
probably be very happy, but there would also be no Luka. If you love your son as much as I think
you do, you'll leave all of this behind tonight."

His mother touched his father's arm, her tear-stained face turned to his. "She's right, Rahmal. We
must leave, for Luka's sake."

A tremor shook the ground beneath their feet. Soon the entire room was shaking violently.
Crashes and cracks echoed around them as a reddish dust fell from the room's ceiling. His
mother wrapped her arms around his tiny body. "A quake?" she asked.

Dr. Vassir ran to the door and opened it. She held on to the door's frame and peered over the
ledge. Luka immediately recognized the dozen black battle cruisers, with flashing white and
orange lights, rising slowly along the mountain's edge. The Enosians had arrived.

Dr. Vassir slammed the door shut and turned to Rahmal. "They're here," she announced over the
escalating roar of the rising cruisers. "We only have one choice now. Give him this." The

Eye of the Warrior - 44

dwelling continued to rattle and shift. She went to him and handed him a spongy white ball, the
size of a plum. His father stared at the ball, saying nothing. "Take it," she urged him.

He plucked it from her hand. "What will it do?"

"It will put Luka into a deep sleep. The Enosians will think he's dead and finally leave you in
peace."

"How long will he sleep?" his mother asked.

"I'm not sure, hours, probably days." The doctor's eyes darted back and forth from his family to
the front door. "You must hurry!"

His father's eyes narrowed. "Will he ever wake up, Doctor? Or is it just your civilized way of
exterminating our son?"

She didn't answer.

A tear trickled down his father's left cheek. "Damn you."

"They will not be as kind." The violent shaking turned to tremors once more. "If you don't want
to bear witness to his tiny body being hurled from this ledge you'll give it to him now and let him
slip away peacefully."

More tears fell down his face. His eyes remained fixed on the doctor while he lowered himself
onto one knee. "Come, Luka, something sweet to eat."

Luka watched a smile spread across the face of his younger self. His mother released him,
clasping both hands over her own mouth to muffle her cries, as he playfully scurried into his
father's arms and gobbled up the candied ball.

Within seconds, pounding at the door pulled the doctor's attention. The door vibrated from the
unyielding hammering. When she turned back to his family, Luka was unable to comprehend
what he was seeing. His lifeless body dangled in his father's arms. His mother no longer covered
her mouth. She lay on the floor sobbing.

The door burst open.

Dr. Vassir turned. She stood between the open door and his grieving parents.

The silhouette of a man stood at the doorway and three others behind him on the ledge in front of
the hovering cruiser.

"Rahmal and Shyla Cordova, you are hereby ordered to relinquish the custody of your son, Luka,
to the People's Republic of Enos."

Eye of the Warrior - 45

Dr. Vassir lowered the hood of her cloak. "I should have known you'd be the one executing the
filthy deeds of your republic," she said to the dark figure.

A low, sinister laugh emerged as he approached. When the light of the room hit his face, Luka
recognized the slicked-back white-blond hair and refined cheekbones of a younger Aidan
Bacchus. Three gold slashes embedded in the collar of his brown leather tunic signaled his rank
of major.

"I guess I can say the same to you, Dr. Vassir." He looked over her shoulder, then gazed
knowingly into her eyes. "This is Enosian territory, now. I can have you arrested for being here
without the proper authorization."

"I'm aware of that, Major. I only wanted to make this less painful for the Cordovas. Is someone
doing the same for the Enosian families?"

"They're no longer any concern of yours, Doctor. Now, let me check to make sure that this isn't a
clever deception."

Their eyes remained locked for several moments before he moved past her.

"Don't touch him!" his mother shrieked.

"Leave us in peace to bury our son. You already have what you came for," his father added.

The doctor turned to show Luka his mother holding his body and his father standing face to face
with Major Bacchus.

Bacchus signaled with his left hand and the three shadows standing on the ledge swooped in.
Two grabbed his father, hitting him until they had him on his knees. The other tore his screaming
mother away from his body.

Bacchus knelt before his tiny body. He pulled a rectangular device from his sash and scanned the
child from head to toe.

"A thorough job, as always, Doctor." Bacchus rose and faced her, his lips spread in a smug and
satisfied grin. "The republic thanks you."

"May the republic and all her supporters rot," his father shouted loud enough for the entire clan
to hear.

Bacchus turned to his father and with the same handheld device discharged a beam of blue light
in his direction. The ray struck his father in the chest.

The doctor stared into Bacchus' rage-filled eyes.

Eye of the Warrior - 46

"No!" his mother and the doctor screamed, until the incandescent blue light engulfed his father's
body and he faded away.

Luka could not take any more. He wanted to release the memory, but he stayed, anticipating the
moment when he would be able to rip the heart from Aidan Bacchus' chest and crush it with his
bare hands.

"One less Kailosian animal to contend with," Bacchus said, sliding the device back into the fold
of his sash.

"And what shall we do with her, Major?" the soldier holding Shyla asked.

Bacchus went to Luka's mother. He pulled her chin up and brushed the hair away from her face.
"The perfect Kailosian female, beautiful and barren… She'll make an excellent concubine for the
transition team. Leave her for now."

"And the boy?"

"No, please!" his mother screamed again, struggling for the guard to release her.

"Aidan!" Dr. Vassir shrieked, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. "You have
everything that you want, let the mother bury her child in peace."

Bacchus let Shyla go and came to the doctor. His hand caressed her cheek. "It's been so very
long since you've called me Aidan, my love… almost an eternity."

Luka recognized the voice from the intimate memory he'd stolen a peek at. The pale hand had
belonged to Aidan Bacchus. Revulsion now mixed with his grief.

"It's over," she whispered. "You've won. I've taken her son, and you, her husband. Let her have
this."

He pulled his hand away from her cheek and signaled his men. The soldier released Luka's
mother.

"You have until sunrise to cross back into Kailosian territory. If you are spotted here again, you
will be arrested." He walked out and into the waiting cruiser.

The room shook violently again as the cruisers pulled away into the night sky.

Dr. Vassir closed the door and went to his mother's side. She cradled him in her arms. Her tears
fell in silence once the rumble of the Enosian cruisers had faded.

"They'll be back. You must leave now," Dr. Vassir said, and placed her hand on his mother's
shoulder.

Eye of the Warrior - 47

"Please leave us." Shyla pushed the doctor's hand away. "Let me bury him in peace."

The doctor produced two vials from the inner lining of her cloak. One contained a black liquid,
the other a radiant green.

"Your sorrow had to be genuine for the major not to see through our deception. Your son will be
fine. Once you are in Kailosian-controlled lands, give him this." She handed his mother the vial
of black liquid. "It will wake him from his sound sleep."

Shyla Cordova began to cry harder. "Why did this happen? How is this fair? Rahmal will spend
an eternity believing that he allowed his son to be murdered."

"Shyla, nothing about this is fair. I'm sorry, but you don’t have time to grieve your husband. If
you want to save Luka's life, you must leave now. This vial contains a chemical that will
temporarily alter both your appearances… long enough for me to convince the right people that
your son needs to remain alive. I have a shuttle waiting." She placed the second vial in Shyla's
hand, then rose and headed for the door. She turned back to his mother. "Come now and your son
lives. Stay here and he dies. The choice is yours."

Excruciating pain lifted Luka from the memory and he felt himself weakening. He savored the
taste of his blood as it seeped from the roof of his mouth onto his tongue. He needed one more.
That was all his body could take.

The image of the Provenshian night sky faded in. Dr. Vassir, again wrapped in her dark cloak,
rushed through a maze of hedges twice her height.

What are you up to now?

The long, dark path ended. It opened up in the circular contemplation gardens on the island of
Lydia, in the grounds of the Lydian University of Science and Technology. Stone pillars
surrounded the garden. A pair stood beside the opening of each hedge, creating the illusion of a
doorway leading into a dark dimension. Dr. Vassir remained shrouded in the darkness provided
by the towering pillars. A cobbled stone path led from the entryway between the pillars to a
fountain in the center of the garden. Between each walkway, rows of white flowers poured their
fragrant scent into the night air.

A dark figure stood by the fountain.

Dr. Vassir stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. The splashing water concealed her
footsteps as she approached the man.

As she drew closer, his white tunic, brown sash, and platinum hair became clear.

Bacchus!

Luka shuddered in disgust. To what level of betrayal had the doctor fallen?

Eye of the Warrior - 48

She stopped inches away from the man, his back to her. "Mourning my untimely demise, my
love?"

He turned. He was older. There were a few additional lines beneath his smiling eyes and two
additional gold slashes on his collar. It was General Bacchus now. "To what do I owe this honor,
Senator Vassir?"

"Not even a spark of surprise in those deceitful eyes of yours."

"Why should there be?"

"It's not every day my laboratory is blown to pieces while I'm still in it."

"I never once doubted your resourcefulness. When word reached me of the accident, I was
certain I would see you again."

She slapped him across the face, hard enough to turn his cheek. "A well-orchestrated Enosian
accident. Isn't that right, General?"

He caressed his cheek and looked at her with the same amused expression. "After all these years,
Samina, it warms me to see that your passions still run deep. Now, I wish I could claim credit for
destroying your sanctuary, but alas, I cannot."

"Was it some kind of belated revenge for my saving Luka Cordova and his mother?"

He laughed and made as if to clutch at his heart. "Samina, you wound me. I thought you knew
me the way a consort knows her master."

She moved to strike him again.

He captured the flying hand and kissed its palm.

She snatched it away before he could kiss it again.

He licked his lips. "Sweet with a hint of a bitter spice, just as I remembered. As for your precious
laboratory, even I don't hold a grudge for that long. Twenty years… I know I was an
unforgettable lover, but you must rid yourself of the delusion that every move I make in life is
dedicated to you."

"Only in your most twisted dreams, General," she interjected.

"Of course," he went on, ignoring her, "I was a bit upset when I realized what a marvelous
deception you and that cave-dwelling whore played on me, but I haven't thought about it in
years. Thinking of it now, I should have vaporized your little freak of nature along with his

Eye of the Warrior - 49

father." He turned away from the doctor and looked at the twin moons. "He's been a nuisance
lately, but it's nothing Enosian forces can't handle."

"Especially with three of your own special warriors leading the charge. I'm sure you're
wondering what an army of them would be able to do."

He turned, his smile gone. "What do you want, Senator?"

She moved in closer. "You're the one who's obsessed," she said in a whisper. "Obsessed with
Project Providence… obsessed with the need for the ultimate warrior… obsessed with greatness
and destruction." His cold, hard stare revealed the truth. "From behind a pile of debris, I watched
Dr. Reikiki and one of your men pay my lab a special visit. They opened the secure lockbox
where all of my journals were stored. Dr. Reikiki took everything related to the project. They
patted one another on the back for a job well done and then left without saying good-bye. The
doctor hasn't been seen or heard from since. I imagine he's resting comfortably in one of your
homes in the Enosian countryside."

Dr. Reikiki… The second mention of the doctor's name triggered a memory from Luka's life as
Andres Membarak to surface. The morning after his fiftieth birthday party, as he nursed a
hangover, he'd called his mother a cruel bitch. She'd retaliated by calling him a vicious drunk
and shoving into his face the proof of his being nothing more than a lab experiment that she
regretted. They were the medical records detailing the various fertility treatments she'd
undergone the year and a half prior to his birth. He read them, then laughed and told her to burn
in hell.

Dr. Anil Reikiki was her fertility specialist. Luka wondered if they were one and the same.

"I repeat myself; what do you want? An admission of guilt?" The general's self-satisfied smile
reappeared. "Do you want an official declaration of war between the republics? One word from
those beautiful lips, Senator Vassir, and that fragile peace agreement you so diligently
championed will crumble."

"Always the clever strategist."

"It's all in your hands, my love." He backed away, his smile never waning.

"Will you ever be satisfied, Aidan?" she shouted.

He stopped. "Of course, I will, my dear sweet Mina. When Kailos is on its knees begging for
mercy, I'll be more than satisfied."

As the general disappeared into the maze, the doctor fell to her knees and wept.

The memory faded in a flood of her tears.

Eye of the Warrior - 50

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A jolt of pain tore Luka from the doctor's mind. He stared at her as she massaged her temples. A
droplet of blood sat on her upper lip.

Luka fell to his knees and vomited the blood that had trickled down into his throat during the
probe. His body trembled.

"I hope you found what you were looking for," Dr. Vassir said as she regained her composure.

Luka wiped away the blood around his mouth and nose with his forearm and looked up.
"Bacchus… He killed my father," he said between short rapid breaths.

"Yes."

"And, he brought us here? Why? Why would he do that?"

Dr. Vassir took a seat behind her desk. "To conquer a new world, I assume."

"But why bring me back? He despised me."

"I'm not sure of the how or why, Major Cordova. It may be his perverted sense of humor wishing
to kill you in this lifetime because he failed in the last, or whoever used my journals was unable
to properly decipher my notes and you are here simply as an accident of fate."

"I will kill him."

"Yes, Major, but only after Nik Drakan has emerged. Protecting him is our primary mission."

Simultaneous stabbing pains between his eyes and the crown of his head sent Luka into
convulsions. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head. Spasms shook his body for several
seconds before he collapsed into dreams of his distant world.

***

Zelma entered the office as Dr. Vassir scanned Luka's body.

She stood behind the doctor and asked, "How much did he see?"

"Not enough to answer all of his questions, but enough to spur him to action."

Eye of the Warrior - 51

Dr. Vassir stared into his face. He reminded her so much of the fierce Kailosian warrior back
home. Not a clone, but Major Luka Cordova himself. She lifted Luka's right eyelid and pulled
out the brown contact. She examined the violet eye with a penlight then let it close and checked
the other. Gazing into the brown eye, she pondered the strength of his human DNA and hoped
that it was not a sign of vulnerability. Then she wondered if these half-breed warriors would
have all of the special abilities of their Provenshian counterparts. For a brief moment, memories
of the war at home made her hope not.

"How is he?" Zelma asked.

"Sleeping… healing."

"What about Martin Cortez? The Enosians already have the upper hand. Giving them more time
to work on him is not a wise move."

"We don't have much of a choice, Dr. Ackukhat. He did fairly well against his attackers last
night. And I imagine that may work to our advantage. If this Nik Drakan awakens with the same
memories of the Nik Drakan from our world, the Enosians should be the ones running in fear."

"I still don't like it. I have to report to the High Council and I'm sure they won't, either."

Dr. Vassir sighed. Still staring at Luka's sleeping face, she wondered if the major's loyalties to
the republic outweighed his loyalties to his heart - avenging the death of his father and rekindling
a former love.

She went to the window and pulled a pair of dark sunglasses from her pocket. She put them on
and looked toward the sky. "What I've shown him should ensure that he protects Martin Cortez
until Nik Drakan emerges. As for Nik Drakan himself, we can only pray that our greatest hope
does not become our worst nightmare."

Eye of the Warrior - 52

CHAPTER TWELVE

Marty pulled to the side of the road when he did not recognize where he was. Large homes with
manicured lawns lined both sides of the street. Perfect homes. Perfect lawns. Perfect lives
beyond the manufactured facades.

He stopped at the corner, beneath the shade of a tall oak tree, and let his body go limp in the
driver's seat. The burning ache at the base of his skull faded. He was supposed to return to the
office, but work was the furthest thing from his mind.

The voice hadn't spoken to him since he'd obeyed it and raced out of the doctor's office. Who
was behind that door listening to them? And what did she mean by diving deeper into his sacred
center? When walking down that dark street in Wilmington had he fallen down the rabbit hole
and into a parallel universe?

Questions… questions… and more questions, but no answers. Alice, sweet Alice, what should I
do?

Marty laughed out loud. He needed a drink. He needed a pill. God, he was almost certain he
needed to be committed.

"Excuse me, sir."

Startled by the gruff, masculine voice, Marty turned to see a police cruiser beside his driver's
side door.

"Are you waiting for someone?" the officer, a muscular African-American, asked. Both he and
the driver, a middle-aged Latina, stared at him.

Marty quickly pulled himself together. "Just lost. I made a wrong turn back there somewhere,
and need to get back uptown."

The officer told him to make a right at the corner, and then a left at the next, and that he couldn't
miss it if he kept going straight for another ten miles.

Marty pulled away from the curb. When he made the left turn, he saw the spiraling peak of the
Americas Bank tower in the distance. The police cruiser was still behind him. Now was not the
time for crazy thoughts. He decided he needed a serious vacation. A few days on a quiet beach
and he would be as good as new. He took a deep breath as he watched the cruiser make a right
behind him.

Eye of the Warrior - 53

Stopped at a red light, he gazed into the sky. The brightness stung his eyes. He pulled a pair of
shades from the glove compartment and slipped them on.

The sudden urge for a mocha latte came over him as he waited for the traffic signal to change.
His favorite café was only a few blocks away. Watching the sunset with an iced coffee in hand
sounded like a plan to him. Maybe someone with a laptop would let him check flights to the
Caribbean.

He pulled into the parking lot of The Queen's Cup cafe, hoping the cute manager with the shaved
head and the gargoyle tattoos on his arms would be there. As he stepped out of the Jeep, the
sensation of red ants crawling under his skull returned.

Twelve distinct voices chattered with crystal clarity by his ear and the suffocating aromas of
African and South American coffee grounds mixed with hot milk brought Marty to his knees.
His senses once again shifted into hyperdrive. Marty bit down hard on his lower lip and closed
his eyes. He wanted to cover his ears, but did not dare let go of the Jeep's door handle.

"How can you do this to me?" a young woman, on the verge of tears, asked.

"I love that bag, and those shoes, girl, are to die for." Marty could have sworn that was Craig's
voice.

More voices went on and on about things Marty did not want to know. He wanted to jump back
into his Jeep and drive to the nearest emergency room. Then he heard the voice of a man with a
southern drawl.

"When I look at you across a room, I see the same girl I fell in love with in high school. But,
when I come up close and look into your eyes, I don't see her anymore. What's happened to you,
Mandy?" Confusion mixed with sadness resonated in his voice. "Three months ago, we were
planning our wedding, and now you're acting like you don't want to have anything to do with me
or your family. I don't understand."

"We were never destined to be together, Josh."

It was Leyli.

Marty froze. He concentrated on the sound of her voice and the pattern of her breathing. The
other voices faded leaving only Leyli and Josh.

"I get that," she continued, "You need to accept it and move on."

"Just like that?" Josh snapped. "Fifteen years, Mandy. Fifteen fucking years, and you say it's not
our destiny!"

Eye of the Warrior - 54

Marty forced himself to stand. He opened his eyes. The ache and nausea were still with him but
his body willed itself to move toward the café.

"Are you fucking someone else?" Josh shouted as Marty stepped through the main entrance.

Marty did not need elevated senses to hear the gasps of the shocked patrons. He went to the
serving counter to watch the drama unfold.

Josh was a mountain of a man. Pure muscle filled his gray T-shirt and blue jeans. Marty figured
him for a police officer, firefighter, or part-time soldier because of the neat buzz cut.

The handsome bad-boy manager who had always had a smile and a wink for him was absent.
Instead, Joey, the lanky eighteen-year-old assistant manager, with red hair and green eyes that
were too big for his face, stood behind the serving counter. He asked Marty to excuse him for
one moment, then came out from behind the counter.

With biceps the size of plump cucumbers and an already visible twitch in his left eye, Marty was
sure the young man was no match for the monster of a man already sitting with closed fists at the
ready. Marty listened to Joey's heart race as he approached the couple's table.

"I'm going to have to ask you to please lower your voices or leave," the assistant manager
requested.

Josh jumped from his chair. His arm slapped against the young man's chest. "And I'm gonna
have to ask you to get the fuck out of our conversation, before I toss your skinny ass across the
room."

It was obvious to Marty that Josh didn't care who heard him as he sounded off in the young
manager's face.

Do something now or the poor kid's going to get smashed. It was the voice in his head.

Marty scanned the room to see if anyone else would help, but all the café's patrons sat quietly,
occasionally glancing in the direction of David and Goliath. Then his eyes found Leyli.

It's time, Nik.

Now it was the sound of her voice in his head.

Marty moved in closer, until he stood behind the trembling teenager.

"Why don't we all take a few deep and relaxing breaths, before we say or do something we may
regret later," Marty said. He looked into Josh's tense, dark eyes as he took the assistant manager
by the arms and slowly shifted the kid out of the way.

"Who the fuck are you?" Josh barked.

Eye of the Warrior - 55

Marty gave the manager a light push to ensure that he was out of harms way. "I'm an old friend
of Mandy's," he replied, and added a coy smile.

Josh's eyes widened. His fair cheeks reddened and the veins in his neck bulged. Marty heard the
blood gush through them as Josh's right fist came at him. He caught it. Then came the left, and
he caught it as well. Marty brought both fists together and squeezed. He took another step
forward onto Josh's toes.

"Look deeply into yourself," Marty began in a cool, even tone. "And you'll see that your true
destiny does not include Mandy. The Mandy that you once knew is gone. Now you have to
discover what your true path is, my friend, and figure out how to live in this lifetime without
being such an asshole. Got it?"

From the look in Josh's confused eyes, Marty knew the pain was intense. He wanted to let go, but
the voice within him told him to hold on.

As Marty peered deeper, he glimpsed into Josh's memories. He watched him slap, punch, and
sexually torture his precious Mandy through the course of their fifteen-year affair.

He gave the fists another squeeze, without the voice requesting it. Several knuckles cracked.
Marty was sure one more squeeze would cause a few of the bones in both hands to snap. When
the vicious memories faded, Marty released the pitiful man and took a step back. He watched
Josh glance around at the silent patrons, then storm out of the café.

Normal chatter resumed as Marty sat down across from Leyli. No burning sensation and no
voice. He wasn't sure what to say. None of this was a fantasy and he hadn't had a drop of alcohol
all day.

The assistant manager brought a large mocha latte, his favorite, and set it down on the table,
along with another espresso for Leyli.

"These are on the house, man," Joey said, the relief he was feeling reflected in his steadier
heartbeat. "Just let me know if you need refills. I'll make sure you're taken care of."

Marty smiled a thanks, then sat down and raised his cup to Leyli. "Guess I'll have to thank your
fiancé for this, Mandy?"

She rolled her eyes, then took a sip of the espresso.

Between meetings, Marty had checked the company's online directory and found the names of
the employees working in International Finance. Amanda McAlister was one of the names. He'd
picked up the phone and dialed the first two digits of her extension more than a dozen times that
afternoon, but each time he'd decided it was a bad idea and hung up.

Eye of the Warrior - 56

She was as mysterious and alluring today as she had been the previous night. Strands of her hair
flowed over the white blouse that clung to her breasts. Her eyes revealed nothing, yet the smile
that formed on her pink lips as she pulled the cup away hinted at something. He wanted to know
what that something was.

She stared at the rising steam from the cup. "It's one of the things Mandy loved that I agree
with." She took another sip before putting the cup down. "Outside of the obvious, I was never
sure what she saw in that sorry excuse of a man she called a boyfriend."

Marty took a hearty swig from his cup then licked his lips. "I've probably lost my mind already,
so I'm gonna run with it." He leaned in closer. "Some part of me is telling me that I know you,
but I'm not sure how. Mandy? Leyli? Who are you, really? And who's Nik Drakan?" He sat back
and waited for an answer.

"If you look deep enough, you'll find the answers to all of your questions."

Nice… Another one who wants me to go deep-sea diving into my soul. Maybe I'm the sane one
and everyone else is cracked.

Marty sank his teeth into the left side of his tongue. He felt a stinging pain and stopped before he
drew blood. "If this was a dream, I'd be on a tiny island surrounded by adoring go-go boys."
Leyli raised an eyebrow. "But, apparently, I'm wide-awake, and have the sore tongue to prove
it." He leaned in again, clenched his teeth, and lowered his voice. "So, why don't you stop being
so damned cryptic and answer my goddamned questions."

Her eyelids fell and rose with a seductive pause in between. "You're more like him than you care
to admit."

"Like who?"

"The man fighting his way out from inside of you."

His mind screamed the name: Nik Drakan. Marty shut his eyes and curled both hands into tight
fists. The burning pain returned to the base of his brain as he tried to clear his mind of all
thoughts.

"The more you fight it, the worse it will feel."

Her voice penetrated his eardrums like flaming arrows and the pain intensified. He wanted to
run, but he needed answers. Why was he hearing voices? Why did he feel like something was
clawing its way out of him? If the series of events that had taken place over the last several days
were not all in his wild imagination, why did someone want him dead?

The aroma of the chocolate-flavored coffee, hovering beneath his nose, made him nauseous.
Marty swallowed hard. He opened his eyes and focused directly on Leyli.

Eye of the Warrior - 57

"Who are you?" he asked again, this time grinding the words out.

The mysterious smile evaporated as she pulled her hair back. "Mandy was afraid and confused,
like you are right now. More so than she'd been for most of her life. She thought she was going
insane." Leyli lifted the cup to her lips and sipped, never taking her eyes off Marty. "She ran,
thinking a change of scenery was all she'd need. She ended up here. That bastard followed and
proposed. They were looking at houses across the border. Even if it wasn't my time, I could not
have stood by and let her make that mistake. That's when I started my journey to the surface. I
called out to her along the way. Whenever she heard me whisper, she ignored it. The same way
she ignored the back of his hand when it knocked her across the room. The closer I got, the more
I screeched and wailed to get her to listen."

The burning ache dissipated as Marty clung to every word.

"She cried every night in the shower. She cried every time she was alone and thought no one was
watching."

"The night after her thirtieth birthday, she got up in the middle of the night, got into her car, and
drove around in circles. She wanted to fall asleep without hearing me. I wanted to be free. I knew
I was getting somewhere when she pulled to the side of the road and buried her face in her hands.
She finally started to listen. I was almost there when another car pulled up behind her. It was
Josh. He dragged her from the car and asked if she was cheating on him. When she said no, the
back of his hand sent her onto the pavement. He pulled her up and asked again. When she gave
the same answer, he hit her again. I lost count of how many times. He fractured her skull in two
places. She was slipping away, but she listened and finally came to understand the greater
purpose, and let me through. I pulled myself up and broke the son of a bitch's jaw and a few of
his ribs, too. For her sake, I was kind enough to let him live and dropped him off at the nearest
hospital."

Marty smiled at the thought of witnessing Josh's tumble from his pedestal of testosterone that
night.

"And to think a week later he still wanted to get married. It shocked me to see how similar our
worlds are."

Our worlds? Marty's smile faded. How much of this wild story was true? Maybe when he'd
fallen and passed out in Wilmington, he'd fractured his skull. Maybe both he and Amanda
McAlister suffered from fantastic delusions due to their skulls bouncing off the pavement.

"And what greater purpose might that be?" Marty asked, immediately hating himself for
supporting her delusion.

"No matter what I say, or how I say it, you'll choose not to believe me. The truth lies within you,
Marty, and his name is Nik Drakan. Ask him your questions, then be prepared to hear him
answer."

Eye of the Warrior - 58

She pulled a contact lens case from her purse then plucked the contact from her right eye and
placed it in the case.

A chill swept through Marty. A violet eye, like his, stared back at him.

A flood of images invaded his mind. They were all of her. Memories of a woman he was not
supposed to know. A younger version, with both eyes a luminous violet. Surrounded by a sky in
shades of purple, she laughed, she cried, she narrowed her eyes in a defiant glare.

"You've never been sick a day in your life, Martin Cortez," she whispered with absolute
certainty. Her voice cleared his mind of the strange images.

He looked down at the table, trying to hold in the laughter. "So who am I now, Superman?" He
couldn't help himself and started to laugh, as did she.

"I remember when we were…"

Without looking into her eyes, her whisper wrapped him in a warmth he'd never known before.
The memory of their laughter as children came to him. With the laughter came the smiling face
of a little girl of six or seven with long, blonde hair and violet eyes. Then the face morphed into
that of a preteen and then slowly into the beautiful woman before him. He remembered her scent
– the sweetness of a wild rose.

Marty reached out and took her hands into his. The sensations were familiar. He did know her.
But how was that possible? How was any of this possible?

He opened his mouth to ask the question, but before he could utter a syllable, a large hand fell on
his shoulder and squeezed it.

"Keeping him all to yourself?" a husky, accented voice asked.

Marty's keen senses jumped into action. Without turning, he knew who was standing behind him.
The inflection in that voice and scent of sandalwood and musk on that flesh brought Marty back
to the night he'd collapsed at the inn.

The hot breath on his ear, the stubble on his cheeks, and the tender lips, tasting of strawberries
and mint, that he'd kissed…

A whirlwind rose from his center, into his throat, and over his palate.

"Konnor," fell from Marty's lips as he exhaled.

Eye of the Warrior - 59

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Konnor pulled a chair from a neighboring table.

The frame of the man now sitting with them was an identical match to the one Marty thought
he'd imagined; tall, broad shouldered, thick mounds of muscle rising and falling under the tan,
polo-necked shirt. Marty stared at the unshaven face. Did those thin lips still taste of strawberries
and mint?

Marty had forgotten to breathe since saying Konnor's name. His lungs screamed for air. He
inhaled, taking in Konnor's familiar scent.

Konnor raised his narrow, rectangular sunglasses, propping them on the closely cropped waves
of his sandy hair. His left eye was pale green and his right eye violet. He smiled and winked.

"Mind?" he said as he pointed to the latte.

Marty shook his head and slid the cup toward Konnor.

Instead of reaching for the cup, Konnor took his hand.

The mysterious energy that had enveloped Marty that night returned. It traveled up his arm and
to the rest of his body. Marty wanted to kiss Konnor again. He wanted to strip the clothing from
Konnor's body and lose himself. Then a vision of his own hands covered in blood flashed in his
mind. His stomach churned and the muscles of his heart contracted. A guttural cry from the voice
within him rang in his ears and his brain was once again on fire. He pulled away, staring at them.

Eyes like his… Why did they have eyes like his?

The ache in his head intensified the more he thought of it.

Konnor reached out to him and Marty jumped from his chair. "Stay away from me… both of
you," he said in a low, trembling voice. "Just, please, stay away."

His thoughts, the voice, and the nauseating scents were driving Marty to the edge of sanity. The
room started to spin. He held his breath and rushed out of the café without looking back.

***

Eye of the Warrior - 60

Leyli slipped her contact back in. "You always had a knack for clearing out a room." She
watched Konnor's smile fade as he stared through the window, following Marty's departure until
the noise of the Jeep's engine faded in the distance. Still as transparent as ever, even in this
world, she thought. "Some things never change."

Konnor's distant gaze returned to her. "Spare me the unsolicited advice, Your Royal Highness.
Why don't you thrill me with the tale of how you became queen of the Peach Festival?" A cocky
smile returned to his lips. "Terribly exciting, I hear."

She'd always known that would come back to haunt her. "You should try it sometime. I'll loan
you the tiara."

"No need. I packed my own."

They stared at one another for several moments, then both laughed loudly enough to be on the
receiving end of several glances.

"I've missed you, too," Konnor finally said. "Where's that psychotic brother of yours?"

"Wreaking havoc somewhere, I suppose. Had you waited a few more minutes before making
your grand entrance we would have had Nik right where we wanted him."

"I'll get him to come around," he said, his confidence verging on arrogance.

Leyli shook her head. "You know as well as I do that you can't push Martin Cortez aside and pull
Nik out of him. He can only emerge if Marty wills it."

"You have no faith in my powers of persuasion."

"I didn't see him leaping into your arms. In fact, those wonderful persuasive powers of yours
may push him into the arms of another. And you know exactly who I mean."

The smile on Konnor's face vanished. Good. She'd found a fresh wound. He deserved worse, but
she wasn't ready to inflict any more damage at the moment. "Love that accent of yours; is it
South African?"

He rolled his eyes. "You lost him fair and square, Major Zorhan. Let's move on to the task at
hand."

She wanted to throw the rest of her espresso in his face, but decided that would be a waste of an
excellent cup of coffee.

Their cell phones rang simultaneously. They flipped them open and stared at one another in
silence.

"I'm hopeful that you both have found one another."

Eye of the Warrior - 61

They recognized the voice of General Bacchus.

"How's the operation proceeding?" he asked.

"Very well. It's only a matter of time," Konnor replied.

"Major Zorhan, your assessment?"

Leyli thought for a moment and chose her words carefully. "Although I can't be as enthusiastic as
Major Konnor, there are signs of progress. Only time will tell."

"I see." The general's voice trailed off.

They knew that wasn't what the demanding general wanted to hear.

"Well, time is a luxury we don't possess!" Bacchus exploded, causing Konnor and Leyli to pull
the phones away from their ears. "And if it’s going so well, can one of you tell me why Martin
Cortez spent part of his afternoon with that annoying Kailosian senator and her trained lab rat?"

Neither major had an answer.

The Enosian general cleared his throat, his voice returning to his controlled tone. "With time no
longer a luxury, do whatever it takes to awaken Drakan and ensure his loyalty to Enos. If neither
of you can manage that, you must eliminate him."

Konnor and Leyli continued to hold their silence, but they no longer looked at one another. They
each understood the mission and knew what they had to do.

"I haven't been able to get a hold of Lieutenant Zorhan," the general continued. "After yesterday,
I want you both to keep him on a short leash. He has revenge on the brain. I don't want him
endangering Drakan's host and jeopardizing our mission." Static, then silence filled several
seconds. "You both have your orders. I'll be in touch."

The line went dead.

"I guess I have no choice but to rely on your so-called powers of persuasion," Leyli said as she
stood, "I'm off to find a large choker and wrap it around Markus' neck."

Leyli slipped on her sunglasses as she walked out of the Queen's Cup, reminding herself of her
true mission. She agreed with the general on only one point; they were running out of time.
Locating Markus could wait; she needed to ensure that Nik Drakan's loyalty would never belong
to Enos.

***

Eye of the Warrior - 62

Memories of his former life on Earth interrupted the thoughts of Major Gabriel Konnor. They
always came in a series of unconnected flashes. Visions of drinking, mortal combat, and fucking
were the general themes. Anton Gerhardt had done everything to excess – a true pig. It reminded
him of his last days on Provenshia. War and death were everywhere. He'd lost count of the
number of lives he'd taken, but he remembered their faces. Thinking of them now made him
numb.

He turned his attention to the strange native beings that surrounded him. They seemed happy and
peaceful. What a drastic difference from where he'd emerged.

Three weeks ago, he'd awoken facedown in a muddy patch of grass. It was nearly dawn and the
Congo sky had transitioned swiftly from navy to burnt orange. His first breath had come after
hawking up the muck that'd seeped into his lungs. Bullet holes had riddled the fatigues he wore
and he'd held an empty AK-47 in his right hand. Corpses surrounded him in the dense grove of
trees. At his feet, a young woman and five boys, barely teens, had lain facedown with bullet
holes in their backs. He'd wondered if Anton was the coward who put the bullets there.

Someone had pumped more than thirty rounds of ammunition into his body. He'd had no
memory of who or why. All he'd remembered at that moment was the name Anton Gerhardt and
a few phrases in Afrikaans.

Konnor let the memories slip away as he finished the mocha latte. Anton Gerhardt no longer
existed and that life was not his burden. He was Major Gabriel Konnor of The People's Republic
of Enos and he had a mission. The first part of the mission, finding Nik Drakan, was complete.
Now it was time to help Nik find his way out of Martin Cortez. After that, maybe a second
chance with Nik was still possible. He never would have dreamed any of this possible, but here
they were, a world and a lifetime away. He had to believe that anything was possible.

Sensory receptors at the base of Konnor's brain tingled, like an annoying unreachable itch,
warning him of a potential threat.

They were somewhere nearby.

He scanned the room, purposefully distorting his vision to analyze the heat signatures of the
moving bodies in the café. Blobs of red, yellow, and orange floated past him. They sat sipping
their coffees. They came and went through the café's doors. They were all human.

A rank odor, faintly sprinkled among the flavored coffees, revealed their presence. Enemies of
the republic were near.

Konnor pulled his sunglasses down as he rose. Bacchus was right. Time was running out. They
wanted Nik, almost as badly as he did. He had to do something now.

Eye of the Warrior - 63

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A soft glow from the lights beneath the surface of the Ravenswood community swimming pool
illuminated the night. The scent of the blooming magnolias hovered in the light humidity that
lingered in the air.

Marty drifted on the surface of the lukewarm water at the shallow end. The low hum of the pool's
filtration system beckoned him to sleep. He wanted to follow it into a sweet, oblivious dream,
but the voice that now had a name spoke over it.

It's time, Marty. You must let me through.

He stared into the cloudless sky. He imagined himself alone in a padded cell with stark white
walls. He wore a straitjacket and kneeled in the center of the room, crying.

Was this it for him? Was this what the future had in store for him?

My bright future…

The mad laughter returned. It was no longer strange and didn't frighten him.

A passing helicopter caught his attention as he laughed. It was close enough for him to see that it
belonged to one of the local news stations. As he focused on the flutter of the propeller and the
red and white lights on the body of the craft, the perpetual voice softened to a whisper. By the
time the helicopter disappeared from his line of sight, the voice had faded.

Maybe he was a paranoid schizophrenic. That was the only logical conclusion. That would
explain it all. They heard voices. They saw strange and unexplainable things. For most, it was
treatable. A tiny pill made almost everything seem better. Maybe that was all he needed. One pill
a day and he would be himself again.

He searched for another object in the sky to focus on, to keep the voice at bay.

A deep voice with an exaggerated southern drawl shattered the calm, startling Marty.

"Excuse me, sir, but cruising in the pool area is not permitted."

He let his feet touch the pool floor. It was Craig, in a white dress shirt and black slacks, strolling
toward him with an empty glass and a bottle of red wine.

Eye of the Warrior - 64

"Are you coming in or heading out?" Marty asked, grateful to see that the voice came from a live
human being.

Craig set the bottle and the glass down at the edge. "Both. I had to work late and now I'm
meeting Perry for a drink. I wanted to stop by and bring you a little something."

Marty waded to the edge. "Who's Perry?" he asked, pouring the wine.

Craig crouched with narrowed eyes and a raised eyebrow. "Honey, maybe you don't need
another drink… I swear I think you fried your brain this weekend. Are you sure you didn't do K,
X or Tina with those circuit queens on Sunday night?"

Marty remembered his pledge of sobriety, then savored the Merlot with a half grin. Paranoid
schizophrenia induced via… K? X? Tina? Meth? None of his wild memories included any of
those tragic beauties.

"We spent twenty minutes on the phone after lunch talking all about him. Remember?" Craig
sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, yeah, Perry… from Pasha last night." Marty recalled their conversation, but not the man.
"He's really hot," he added, trying to remember.

Craig shook his head and laughed. With a sincere look in his eyes, he asked, "Are you all right?"

Marty took a moment to think about it.

Should I tell him? What are you going to tell him? That you're hearing voices and that you're
having conversations with strange people who think you're someone else… not to mention the
two hit and runs that may be all in your imagination… or not.

Marty raised his glass and decided to keep his thoughts to himself. "Nothing some quiet and this
won't cure," he responded with a hopeful lie. "It was a fun weekend and it's been a rough week. I
just need some rest."

He watched his best friend eyeball him in silence for a moment, clearly unconvinced. Knowing
how Craig's anal-retentive tendencies and appetite for gorgeous men usually served to distract
him, Marty smiled and asked if he was going to be late.

Craig glanced at his watch. "Well, there's only half a bottle here so you can't get into that much
trouble. I got a real hottie waiting on me so I have to run. Let's have lunch tomorrow?"

Marty agreed.

He leaned against the pool's edge, thankful to have a friend who cared enough to say it with
wine.

Eye of the Warrior - 65

Marty returned to the tranquil surface of the pool a short time later with his tongue still wet from
the last drop of wine. He looked beyond the surrounding magnolia trees and tin roofs of the
Ravenswood condominiums, searching for patterns in the scattered stars. When he found the
violet star, he stopped.

He pushed away the sounds of the night as his right eye zoomed in. It was like a beacon in the
sky calling out to him. He wanted to get closer and wrap himself in its radiant warmth.

As he took a deep breath, a burning sensation attacked the base of his skull.

Someone's here. Someone's watching me.

"Homesick already, Nik?"

It was Markus. Marty recognized the voice and knew he was in danger.

Markus materialized above him, dropping from the sky. His polished shoe landed on Marty's
chest. It pushed him beneath the surface and pinned him to the bottom.

Marty opened his eyes. The lights surrounding the inner walls of the pool allowed him to see
Markus' other foot barreling down toward his face. He turned and the leather sole landed on his
cheekbone, holding him firmly in place at the bottom of the pool.

Marty struggled to free himself. He punched. He jabbed. He tried every defensive maneuver in
his mental cache, but his arms had no momentum and the legs pinning him were steady and
strong. He flailed his arms and legs about hoping they would somehow figure out how to free
him. His lungs ached, as if someone had taken a blowtorch to them. They needed air. His frantic
heart slowed.

He wanted the burning to stop, in his lungs and in his brain. Too desperate for air and too weak
to stop his normal bodily functions, Marty inhaled and his lungs flooded with chlorinated water.
His flailing arms and legs became still. His eyes closed and he drifted into a dark empty space.

Nik Drakan spoke clearly to him. If you don't let me through, you'll die.

A cold, wet darkness wrapped around him. The taste of chlorine sat in his mouth. Though he had
no control of his physical body, he could still manage coherent thought in his terrified mind.

No, I can't, he responded in his mind.

You can, but you won't.

I'm tired. Leave me to die in peace. I want the pain to go away.

Eye of the Warrior - 66

If you let this body die, you give up the power it holds and leave this universe to an uncertain
fate. Earth will become a wasteland. Its inhabitants will be nothing more than slaves and
scavengers once the battles here are over.

And how am I supposed to stop that from happening? Marty asked.

In the silence that came next, he heard only the sound of his dying heart.

You can't… But I can. Nik's voice was growing fainter.

I won't give in to them, and I won’t give in to you, either.

Then we both die, right here, right now.

Again, there was silence. Marty no longer heard his heart beating. The life-sustaining organ
contracted. Extreme pain in his chest told him he was going to die. He didn't want to, not yet.

Help me! Marty finally screamed out in his mind.

Eye of the Warrior - 67

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Marty's body jerked to consciousness while still at the bottom of the pool. The water in his lungs
rushed out with one powerful exhale. His hands took Markus by the ankles as his legs flipped
upward. He latched his heels around Markus' waist and pulled the man down into the water.

Marty freed himself from Markus' grip and flipped out on to the pool's edge.

Thank you, Nik.

Figment or real, Marty figured a thank you could not hurt.

Gasping for air, he kept his eyes on Markus, who was now climbing out on the opposite side.

"Nice move, Nik," Markus conceded in a mocking tone. "I'm so glad you've chosen to honor me
with your presence." His drenched suit produced a trail of water as he walked the pool's edge
toward Marty.

Marty continued to back away. He immediately noticed Markus' right eye was no longer blue,
but was violet, like his. He called to the inner voice, Nik, to return, but got no response. He
struggled to get his breathing under control. Like this, he knew he was no match for Markus.

"What do you want from me?"

"Damned insufferable traitor!" Markus moved in. "Tell that coward inside of you that the time
has come for him to face me like a man and pay his debt."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Marty said. He took another step back, wondering how
he'd get around this psychopath.

Markus stopped his advance and let a wicked smile spread across his face. "I know who you are,
Martin Cortez, and I know the vile, wretched being that's working his way through you." He
raised his fists and continued toward Marty. "And now it's time that I rip him out. If it was
possible for me to do this without killing you, I'm sure you'd thank me once I was done."

His only option was to run. Still trying to catch his breath, Marty knew he wouldn't make it far.

Markus continued to advance. "This is going to hurt, but it'll be quick."

Eye of the Warrior - 68

A hand fell on Marty's right shoulder, sending an unneeded jolt to his already racing heart. "I bet
you use that line on all your first dates."

Konnor stepped in front of Marty.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the great Major Gabriel Konnor in the flesh. Your precious Nik
surfaced briefly, then slipped back into hiding like a true coward." Markus moved toward them.

"Stand down, Lieutenant," Konnor ordered.

Markus smiled. He stopped and gave a half nod. They stood only inches apart and eye to eye.
"How can you protect a traitor?" he asked, then shifted his eyes over Konnor's shoulder, his gaze
locking onto Marty. "Has your passion for him blinded you so, that it betrays your memory?"

"Mine hasn't, but yours has." Konnor placed his fist against Markus' gut. "Endanger our mission
and I will have no other choice."

Markus stood his ground. "Protect him now," he said, shifting his gaze to Marty again, "We'll
meet again."

A chill rose from the tips of Marty's fingers and toes as Markus backed away. Marty held his
breath until Markus turned and swaggered past the entrance of the tall, wooden fence that
surrounded the pool.

He was almost sure he wasn't losing his mind anymore, but he had no frame of reference for
what was happening to him. The person who wanted him dead now had a face. There was also
someone inside him, someone waiting to take over his body. It was all beyond ridiculous. He
looked at the empty bottle of wine at the pool's edge wishing it was not empty.

He felt Konnor's eyes on him, but refused to meet them.

"Are you all right?" Konnor asked, coming closer.

Marty shifted his eyes to the pool's now still waters. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
"That's a stupid question." He moved past Konnor, trying his damnedest to avoid body contact.
"Someone appears out of thin air, tries to kill me, and almost succeeds, then says he'll be back to
finish the job later. How do you think I'm doing?"

"You don't have to worry about Markus."

Konnor's warm breath rolled down his neck, sending a different kind of chill through his body.

Marty took two more steps, putting him at the pool's edge. "I suppose you're here to protect me?"

"Yes, I am."

Eye of the Warrior - 69

Another splash of Konnor's warm breath against his nape made him shudder. "If that's true, why
does it feel like you're the last person I should trust?"

"Why don't you look me in the eye when you ask your questions? Then you can judge for
yourself if I'm being sincere or not."

Marty tried to muffle his laughter, but failed. "These days I don't put much faith into what I see
or hear." It went beyond his simple explanation. When he'd looked into Konnor's green and
violet eyes earlier, a frightening and intriguing emotion had surged through him. He wasn't sure
he was ready to feel that again.

"Then trust in what you feel." Konnor placed his hands on Marty's shoulders. "And if that means
not trusting me, then so be it."

Marty tried to ignore the desires building within him, as Konnor's lips pressed against the back of
his neck, making him tremble. He wanted to give in and let go, but the inner voice returned. It
told him to flip the son of a bitch over his shoulder and into the pool, and Marty did.

Quickly surfacing, Konnor grabbed Marty by the legs and pulled him in.

Marty tried to break away, but Konnor pinned him to the edge.

"What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Who's Nik Drakan?" Marty asked. He met Konnor's eyes, forsaking his fears and not caring that
he did not have the advantage at this moment. "Why does someone want to kill him? And more
importantly, why do you want to protect him?"

Konnor loosened his grip slightly, but not enough for Marty to break free. "You wouldn't believe
me if I told you what I know."

Marty's eyes remained locked on him. "Right now, I can almost believe anything. Try me." He
hoped his sixth sense would aid him in detecting a deception.

"We're warriors from a distant planet called Provenshia. The war between the republics of Enos
and Kailos has made its way here to Earth. The Kailosians want Nik dead or alive… preferably
dead. If they get their hands on you now, before Nik has emerged, it will be easier for them to
either convert you or to take you out."

When he'd said he'd believe almost anything, Marty hadn't expected interplanetary warfare as
one of the options. He continued to stare at the colossus of a man who called himself an alien.

"The Kailosians and their allies are here to rape this planet of all her natural resources and we're
here to stop them."

Marty remembered his conversation with Nik while he was pinned to the bottom of the pool.

Eye of the Warrior - 70

Could something so insane be true? The question led Marty to rewind and fast forward through
what he remembered of the last four days. Other questions popped into his mind. How did the
average person walk away from two hit-and-runs? How had his wounds healed so quickly? What
were the chances of meeting three strangers who all had one violet eye?

Too many coincidences to dismiss, but he wasn't ready to reach for an answer that was so out of
this world.

"I may be two cans short of a six-pack, but I've heard better storylines on the Sci-Fi network. So,
are you going to take me to your leader now? Or is it time for the anal probe?"

A hearty laugh escaped Konnor. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were teasing me to
make me pay for all my past transgressions." Marty searched his eyes as the laughter trailed off.
"Do you believe in love?" Konnor asked.

"Wow, that's original," Marty replied softly, mockingly.

Konnor continued, seemingly determined to ram past Marty's defenses. "Love is like
microscopic creatures with tentacles that have a life and a mind of their own. They find a way in
without you knowing. They twist and turn as they wrap themselves around all your vital organs
on their way to your heart. And when they finally reach their destination, they feed off it. They
need it like the blood that flows through your veins. You can feel them inside of you… every
part of you… tearing you apart yet holding you together. They become so much a part of you
that to be separated from them means death."

Marty's heart raced. He felt the thickness of Konnor's cock pressing against his own. "That's the
kind of love that poets and songwriters share with the world," he countered in a breathless tone.
"The kind that only exists in their minds."

Konnor leaned in until the tips of their noses touched. "The kind that most say doesn't exist, only
because they've never known it. Do you believe in that kind of love?"

Konnor's hand pressed against his sternum. Marty felt warm strands of energy move through
him, leaving a tingling sensation as they passed. From his throat to the tip of his cock, the energy
wrapped around every part of him and gave a gentle squeeze.

He peered into Konnor's eyes, waiting for a shocking revelation, but only saw his reflection.
Marty opened his mouth. For several moments, he tried to speak, but nothing came out. It was as
if his brain refused to communicate with his tongue.

What do you want from me? The question cycled through his mind. As he tried to force the
words out, Konnor's whispering voice infiltrated his mind.

I want you to believe… I want you to remember… I want you. Only you…

Eye of the Warrior - 71

Marty looked up into the sky and found the violet star. In his mind, he saw white sand and water
that shimmered like liquid silver. He saw a sky in shades of purple and burnt orange. The image
was clear in his mind, as if it was a memory and not a fantasy.

"You're remembering," Konnor spoke softly. "Those are the beaches of Adaria."

Marty’s eyes met Konnor's again.

"The first time we made love was under the night sky, lit by the two full moons of Enos and
Kailos. We felt the ebbing sea washing over our toes while I covered your face with kisses."

Marty remembered the weight of Konnor's naked body, the texture of his kisses, and the
fluorescent amber moons suspended in the air side by side. He saw it all with distinct clarity.

"Let me take you there again, my love," Konnor whispered. The moisture of his breath wet
Marty's lips.

Marty wanted to see more and feel more. The inner voice said nothing and only let out a tender
groan as Konnor's lips fell onto his. He closed his eyes and saw the violet sky. The air was warm
and smelled of sea salt and Konnor.

He remembered. He believed. He finally let go.

***

Leyli emerged from the shadows with her hair in a ponytail and dressed in form-fitting black
from head to toe. She took two steps, then jumped from the third floor balcony of the only unit
with a full view of the Ravenswood community swimming pool. She'd seen enough. She flipped
her phone open and dialed as she walked to her car.

"All appears to be moving in our direction. With any luck, Nik will emerge with a bang
sometime tonight. I'll provide another status report at sunrise." She flipped the phone closed.

Her heightened senses detected their racing hearts and erotic whispers. She sighed and refocused
her auditory senses away from Konnor and Marty.

She'd gained a new respect for Konnor and his powers of seductive persuasion. She remembered
the legions that'd fallen prey to them back home, but she doubted that the sweet whispers and
powerful stamina of her Enosian comrade would be enough to awaken Nik. For that, she was
grateful. Delivering Nik into the hands of General Bacchus was not her plan or her mission.

She grabbed a second phone from her pocket and dialed.

Though she knew that what she was about to do was treason of the highest order and punishable
by death, she'd made a vow. Her loyalty to the republic was long gone. It no longer deserved it.
Her allegiance was to a higher power now and for a greater purpose. From the moment she'd

Eye of the Warrior - 72

emerged, she'd been aware of her true mission: finding and protecting the key. That was all that
mattered now, and she would see to it that no one stood in her way.

Someone answered as she sank into the driver's seat of her Lexus. "He's at home… with Konnor.
We have to act fast… before dawn if possible."

The call came to an abrupt end. She sat back and let her eyes penetrate the night sky.

Eye of the Warrior - 73

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Marty felt their bodies rise out of the pool, his legs now wrapped around Konnor's waist and his
arms locked around the broad shoulders before him. Konnor's lips pressed against his. His
tongue plunged in and out of Marty's mouth as thunder rumbled in the far distance.

With their arms around each other, they made their way up the stairs to Marty's condo. On the
third and last flight, their bodies tumbled onto the wooden planks as a louder clap of thunder
broke in the sky.

Marty laughed as Konnor fumbled to bring them both to their feet. "If the fate of the planet rests
on us, I think the world might be in trouble."

Konnor relaxed, playfully kissed Marty's neck, and whispered into his ear, "You laughing at
me?"

A breathless groan slipped from Marty's lips, followed by a faint chuckle and a yes.

Konnor pulled away and stood. He took Marty's arm, hoisted him up onto one shoulder, and
continued up the stairs. "Now, I'll show you what a true warrior is made of."

Marty tumbled onto his mattress a minute later, losing his swimming trunks in the process with
an impatient tug at the wet, clinging material.

Though storm clouds were racing across the sky, the moon managed to shine some of its light
through the open blinds of Marty's bedroom window. Marty watched and held his breath as
Konnor stripped himself of his soaked clothing.

The moon's light revealed the thin layer of blond fur covering the mounds of muscle on Konnor's
chest and stomach. When Marty's eyes found the dark patch that surrounded the hard cock, his
pulse quickened. The East Indian charm of the room vanished from Marty's consciousness. An
invisible force from within pulled him toward Konnor's waiting manhood. His eyes traced its
edges. His mouth anticipated its taste – spicy and sweet. His tongue anticipated its texture – hard
yet tender. A manly scent already filled the air, whetting his appetite.

Marty's fingertips danced their way up Konnor's solid thighs while his lips kissed the tip of that
cock. Again and again he kissed the throbbing head, until his hands found the firm cheeks of
Konnor's ass and pulled him forward.

Eye of the Warrior - 74

Konnor's thickness filled him completely, and there was still more of Konnor to spare. A warm
energy rolled down his tongue and into his throat. Marty squeezed Konnor's ass cheeks and
shuddered from the sensation flowing through him. Days of confusion and pain faded. His mind
and body celebrated in unison.

***

Lightning flashed, then a crash of thunder tore through the sky. The moon's light vanished
behind the clouds and rain splattered against the tin roof above them.

Konnor pulled Marty up and kissed him passionately. Earth was a billion miles away. They were
back in their secluded and sacred place on the southwest coast of Adaria, away from the fighting,
away from the lies and the betrayals that consumed their daily lives. All he had to do was find his
way into Marty and make Nik remember. Remember him… remember their love… remember
the energy their passion always produced. Konnor wrapped his arms around Marty and embraced
him with all his heart, soul, and passion.

***

In the punishing embrace, Marty felt the pull of Konnor's desire. As they tumbled onto the bed,
his mind filled with memories of lovemaking in a place he'd never been or could only imagine
existing in dreams.

White sand, a turquoise and silver sea, Konnor's naked body moving above him, lips brushing
against his face and neck, and the sky patterned in rich shades of violet and amber…

Konnor's mouth ravaged his throat, making him shiver. He felt himself freefalling through an
abyss. He never wanted to hit bottom. He never wanted it to end.

Fingertips traced his lips. Marty tasted each one as he grabbed a handful of Konnor's ass. Then
he cupped Konnor's balls and gave them a gentle squeeze and a tug.

They came face-to-face with one another, and their eyes met.

Marty returned from the fantastic shore and stared into Konnor’s eyes. He felt Konnor's moist
fingers dip into his tender asshole. Ready and desperate for more, Marty raised his legs.
Lightning flashed and a crash of thunder sent Marty's heart into his throat as Konnor's swollen
cock pushed its way inside him.

The violet sky returned. He stared up at the twin moons, gasping in breathless desperation,
crying out as Konnor drove deeper.

With his cry, the energy from each cell in his human body rushed to the center of his chest.
There it gathered and the whirlwind came to life.

Eye of the Warrior - 75

The voice inside him groaned. Nik had awakened. Now they moaned with pleasure as Konnor
pushed in and out with a steady, rapid pace.

Visions of the two Konnors now alternated while a thunderstorm tore through the night sky.
Flashes of lightning jerked Marty between two worlds. The invisible tentacles tightened around
his heart. He could not breathe. Tears fell from the corners of his eyes. Was this making love?
He'd never known the feeling before. He wondered a moment, then let his question fade away.

***

Konnor held on, wanting it to last a moment longer, if not forever, but he was at the point of no
return. Nik would awaken and he'd remember all of it. There was no way to stop that from
happening.

He looked down, knowing this would probably be the last time they would be this way again.

"Forgive me, my love," he groaned.

Lightning flashed, permitting Konnor to glimpse the ray of green light rising from Marty's chest.
He closed his eyes and let the beam of light strike him.

A steady flow of glowing green light flowed from Marty to Konnor's chest. His body stiffened
and shuddered.

***

Marty watched, unable to stop. Orgasmic pleasure rocked his body.

Every part of him tingled, then suddenly went numb. The beam of light faded and Konnor
collapsed on top of him.

Marty listened to his faint breathing and the falling rain. He could not move, nor did he want to.
All he wanted to do was sleep. Blanketed by Konnor's body, he drifted off.

Marty, come with me.

Marty tumbled through the darkness, chasing after the voice of Nik Drakan.

Eye of the Warrior - 76

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Marty opened his eyes to shades of amber and violet in the sky. His naked body lay on powdery
white sand. He felt spent, but in a good way. Marty looked to the right, and there was Konnor,
naked and asleep on his stomach with his head propped up against his arm.

From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the surface of the sea, an ethereal blue laced with
rippling waves that sparkled like precious gems.

He tried to move, but his body would not respond to his mental commands. He smelled the salt
of the sea mingled with a sweet, unknown fragrance. The sun warmed him while the breeze
rolling in from the sea cooled him. It was unlike any dream he'd had. Everything around him
seemed so real. He felt the grains of sand between his toes as they wriggled.

Then, without willing it to do so, his body rolled closer to Konnor. His hand massaged Konnor's
lower back while his lips settled on a clean-shaven cheek.

He planted six kisses before Konnor opened his eyes. They were both glassy and violet.

"Ready to go at it again, Lieutenant Drakan?" Konnor asked with a sleepy smile.

Drakan?

The purple sky. The silver sea. The violet eyes. This was not his body. This was not his world. It
was Provenshia.

"I'm always ready, willing, and very able," Nik responded.

Konnor shifted himself above Nik. "If we make love again, you'll miss the shuttle to Kailan."

Even though his body ached, Marty enjoyed feeling the weight of Konnor's body against his, but
this time it was not his body, it was Nik's.

"There'll be other shuttles. Mother's making me leave a week sooner than I planned." Nik's hands
gave a squeeze to Konnor's ass as he playfully nipped at Konnor's shoulder.

Konnor responded with a deep kiss, stirring the desire within Marty and getting a matching rise
out of Nik. Marty yearned for more, to feel him fully and deeply again.

Eye of the Warrior - 77

Konnor pulled away and looked into his eyes. "You know that my love for you is greater than
anything I've ever known."

"No greater than mine is for you," Nik replied.

Konnor's eyes became serious and intense as they narrowed. "No matter what happens," he said
while stroking Nik's cheek with the back of his hand, "Promise me that you'll always believe
that."

"Why would I ever doubt it?"

Marty waited for an answer to come from Konnor's mouth. Instead, they continued to stare at
one another in silence. A moment later, Konnor rolled off him and started to dress.

Marty watched him pull on a white, sleeveless tunic that came to his upper thighs, and a brown
toga that went a few inches longer. He then wrapped a brown leather sash around his waist.

Nik propped himself up with his elbows. When Konnor knelt by his side, he looked away, facing
the sea. "I forget. You've climbed higher in the ranks, 1

Lieutenant Gabriel Konnor. Isn't that

why you always bring me to this deserted beach, to make sure that no one sees you with a half
Enosian? Nik Drakan, Enosian traitor."

A faint sigh fell from Konnor's lips. "I brought you here to be alone with you. I wanted to have
you all to myself. Can you blame me for wanting that?"

"No, I guess not," Nik deadpanned, as he glanced Konnor’s way. "These are dangerous times,
though. I never thought it would have gotten this bad. Though not to my face, most Kailosians
despise me for being half Enosian, and those Enosians that don't think I'm a traitor treat me like
I'm invisible."

"There aren't that many of you around." Konnor caressed his cheek.

"I'm a curiosity to you, aren't I?" He pushed Konnor's hand away and started to stand.

Konnor shoved him back on the sand and sat on top of his chest.

Nik swung both fists upward.

Konnor caught them. "Not so fast, Lieutenant." A wicked grin formed on his lips. "You've been a
curiosity to me since the day I first laid eyes on you. I want to know you… every part of you."
He kissed Nik's fingertips. "I want to dive deep inside of you and spend an eternity exploring the
strange wonders of your hybrid heart."

"You know that you're the only one that can call me that and walk away with all his teeth still in
place."

Eye of the Warrior - 78

"Because you're desperately in love with me?"

"Maybe."

Konnor let go of Nik's hands and reached into the fold of his leather sash. "I passed through the
Lydian Market on my way here, and when I saw this I thought of you." He took Nik's hand and
slipped the ring on. "Think of me, when I'm not by your side."

To Marty, it looked like tarnished silver or nickel with deep carvings of slashes and tiny circles.

Marty felt the smile come over Nik's face and the simultaneous fluttering in his heart as he
examined the intricate carvings around the ring. It was thick and heavy and covered the space
between the knuckle and joint of his right ring finger.

"And what does this mean for us?" Marty heard Nik ask.

The sounds of the lapping sea faded. His vision blurred a moment, and when it cleared he no
longer felt the sand beneath his bare body or the weight of Konnor on his chest.

Maybe it was time to wake up, Marty thought.

Instead of waking, he found himself --Nik-- sitting in a chair. Boisterous laughter and the clang
of metal against glass surrounded him.

Nik's eyes were still on the ring, but beyond it Marty glimpsed a spectacular feast spread across a
rectangular dinner table covered with golden flower petals. The aromas of unknown spices rose
from the table and intermingled with the same sweet fragrance from the previous dream.

Nik looked away from his precious gift. He pushed away the plate of vegetables and roasted
meat before him and grabbed a glass filled with a blood-red liquid.

He glanced at the guests before bringing the glass to his lips. They all had violet eyes and
bronzed complexions. Marty had always been fascinated with the era of the Roman Empire, but
he'd never dreamed of it before. Bring on the gladiators, he thought, and suddenly wished he had
finished reading the book his mother had given him for Christmas about controlling your dreams.

He savored the mild fruit flavor of the wine, as Nik poured it into his mouth. Even though he had
no control of the body he was in, it made him feel warm and relaxed. The room was
exceptionally large with stone walls covered by colorful tapestries and other shimmering fabrics
of gold, red, yellow, and royal blue. It seemed less Ancient Roman and more medieval now. He
was in a castle of some sort.

When Nik tilted his head back, Marty had no doubts that this was an amazing dream.
Illuminating the medieval dinning hall were a cluster of more than a dozen baseball-sized
spheres of soft blue light suspended in midair several feet above the center of the dining table.

Eye of the Warrior - 79

The balls of light spun, shifted, and bobbed on their own. Marty wanted a closer look, but Nik's
eyes shifted back to the chattering guests.

The women he saw wore fine gowns reminiscent of ancient Rome. Purple jewels of various sizes
and shapes embedded in silver or gold, adorned their bodies. The men were far more simply
dressed. They wore black togas over a gray, formfitting garment. Several of the guests wore the
same dark metallic ring, with an opaque purple stone, on their left hands.

With another glass of wine, the many voices around him became several distinct conversations.

"The Enosians and Valkorians have been eyeing Nazria for some time," a man's voice at the
other end of the table said.

"Dreadful little planet. It isn't fit for any humanoid life-form. Kailos already has more colonies
than it can deal with within this star system. Why do we need to burden the taxpayers with this
wasteland?" a woman sitting out of Marty's line of sight asked.

Her refined voice was familiar to him. He wanted to see her face, but Nik refused to shift his
gaze in that direction.

"I'm surprised by your comments, Senator," another male voice said. "A scholar and scientist of
your reputation should know that what is beneath the surface is far more interesting and
valuable."

"What lies beneath the surface of Nazria is not a necessary resource for the Kailosian people.
And if this is leading where I think it's leading, may the Creator help us all."

Other conversations ceased, to listen to their debate.

Nik still refused to look their way. He remained slumped back in his chair, pouring more wine
into his mouth and gazing at the undulating spheres.

"Must we bring religion into this particular debate," lamented another woman. "It's bad enough I
have to spend the next week entertaining those Lydian extremists who go on and on about idiotic
Adarian prophecies."

"The acquisition of Nazria is a very important one, and the people will understand that what is
being done is all for them and the advancement of the republic," the original male speaker said.

Great! I'm dreaming about alien politics. What's next… interest rate hikes… the out-sourcing of
high paying Provenshian jobs to neighboring planets… interplanetary immigration? What's your
point, Drakan?

Right, Marty… you're out of your fucking mind and now your dreams are confirming it. Wake
up! If not, maybe they'll have some cool after dinner entertainment like burning Ann Coulter at

Eye of the Warrior - 80

the stake. Then again, with this crowd she might just be the honored guest speaker. Damn it.
Wake up already!

"The advancement of one society or nation at the expense of another is not advancement. It's a
return to barbarism." Her tone remained confident and defiant.

"And I suppose the people would be happy to bow and grovel to those Enosian parasites, instead
of supporting their own republic," the man shot back.

The sound of shattering glass sent chills through Marty and silenced his pleas to awaken. Shards
fell from Nik's hand, while bile rose from his stomach into his throat.

Nik finally glanced in the direction of the conversation.

Marty let out a tiny gasp. The opinionated woman in the gold and ivory gown looked like Dr.
Samina Vassir. A large amethyst stone rested at the center of her forehead. She appeared
younger and had violet eyes like everyone else. Her rich dark hair, pulled back into a bun, still
maintained its signature silver streaks.

Nik's eyes shifted to the left of the doctor.

A portly older man met his stare. His plump cheeks and wide forehead reddened. A silence fell
over the dining hall as his eyes shifted nervously between Nik and the person to Nik's right.

Every muscle in Nik's body became tense until he took a deep breath. Marty felt his muscles
relax and a smile form on his face. "The parasite in me would never find any pleasure in that,"
Nik said.

"Gentlemen and ladies." The deep and commanding baritone voice came from the man at the
head of the table, beside Nik. "This night was meant to be a celebration of wonderful things to
come for the republic."

The man squeezed Nik's forearm firmly.

"Please forgive me, Senator Drakan, I meant no disrespect to your son," the portly man
apologized.

"Yes, my son is part Enosian." Senator Drakan slapped Nik on his back. "But he is very much a
Kailosian. Recently promoted, Lieutenant Drakan has now joined the elite forces serving under
General Bakku." He had a head full of graying hair, thick dark brows over piercing plum-colored
eyes, and broad shoulders.

Marty wanted to continue gazing at the senator, but Nik turned away to watch the fake smiles of
the crowd as they nodded and saluted him by tapping their forks against near-empty glasses.
None looked him in the eye, except for Dr. Vassir. Before Nik could draw another breath, the
guests returned to their food, wine, and previously interrupted conversations.

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"More wine for our guest, Gaspar," Nik's father barked. "And clean up this mess."

A thin, pale man with a shaved head and dark circles under his eyes emerged from the next
room. As he cleaned the broken glass from the table, he looked at Nik and smiled.

"Sorry for the mess, Gaspar," Nik whispered to him.

"I understand, Master Drakan… believe me, I understand," Gaspar whispered back, then
disappeared. He reappeared a moment later with a metal carafe.

As Gaspar poured wine into Nik's glass, a muffled beep repeated until Nik's father pulled a tiny
metal device from the fold of his black sash.

"General Bakku," his father said to the man sitting directly across from Nik. "May I have a word
with you?" The general, another large-framed man with a shaved head, sent a chill through
Marty as his eyes briefly bored into Nik when he stood from the table.

Nik's eyes followed them.

A conspiratorial glance between the senator and the general piqued Marty's interest. He felt the
curiosity eat away at Nik as well.

Nik drank from his wine glass as they left the room. Marty noticed the voices around him fade,
though he saw their lips still moving. Instead, he heard footsteps making their way down a
hallway then descending a stairway. After a moment of silence, a door closed.

"The council is jittery about the operation. Is everything in place?" Senator Drakan asked.

"They needn't be," replied General Bakku. "All has gone according to plan so far. The Armada is
in place and we're sure there will be little to no resistance. Don't you trust your old friend
anymore?"

"I would trust you with my life, old friend, and the lives of my family." During a moment of
silence, Nik filled his own glass with the carafe left by Gaspar and then continued to eavesdrop.
"This is of the utmost importance to Kailos. The Enosians are gaining on us, far more than we
ever anticipated. They've stolen every idea that has sprung from brilliant Kailosian minds and
used it against us. If they in any way discover what we are planning the consequences could be
disastrous."

"Don't worry, Khal. Tell the council to rest easy. Well-placed spies have the Enosians thinking
that we are about to take Nazria. We'll claim Kapria by sunrise… and I mean no disrespect to
your son or your ex-wife, but by month's end we'll have those rotted Enosians begging for
mercy."

Eye of the Warrior - 82

"I understand, and there's no need for excuses where Valeria is concerned… a disastrous
marriage of political convenience. Who knew she would eventually buy a seat on the Enosian
Senate. If it weren't for Nikolas, my traitorous ex-wife would be getting exactly what she
deserved – a life sentence on Malakkus."

Nik slumped back in his chair and Marty was once again able to hear the guests in the room.
Moments later, when his father and the General returned, Nik watched them.

Senator Drakan lifted his glass before taking his seat. "A toast," he began, "To the Democratic
Republic of Kailos and the prosperous future that lies ahead for us all."

Everyone, with the exception of Nik, stood and raised their glasses. It wasn't until after receiving
a sharp look from his father that he joined them.

As the wine poured from the glass toward Nik's mouth, the sights and sounds of the dining hall
faded into a silent darkness. Marty was tired. He wanted to let go and not think or feel. Maybe it
was finally time to wake from the wild dream.

***

Screams infiltrated the pitch-black world where he was suspended.

"No! I did not betray you. Please believe me. I beg of you on the grave of my mother," Gaspar
cried, begging for his life.

Marty realized he was still a spectator in Nik's world when he felt his body jump up from a soft,
warm mattress. His bare feet landed on the cold floor. A door swung open letting in the low light
of a single sphere that hung in the hallway over the door.

Someone or something struck Gaspar again. His cry, and another frantic plea, echoed through the
halls.

The blue sphere lit the way and did its best to keep up as Nik rushed down the hall and two
flights of stairs.

As he jumped the remaining five steps, Gaspar let out a blood-chilling scream.

Nik crossed the threshold of the doorway at the end of the narrow hall. Marty recoiled as he
found himself before a man well over seven feet tall. A black metal helmet covered most of his
face. Marty looked on with curiosity and fear at the giant who was wearing a dark, metallic chest
plate and a formfitting, black garment over the rest of his body. He held an eight-inch dagger,
dripping with fresh blood, in his right hand.

On the floor, lying in a growing dark pool was Gaspar, his trembling hands pressed against his
torn gut.

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Via Nik's peripheral vision, Marty spied a half dozen blue spheres hovering near the kitchen
ceiling. Dozens of wine glasses sat on a wooden counter next to a pile of metal pots and pans.

Nik went to his knees by Gaspar's side.

Gaspar was still alive, barely breathing, but still alive. He let go of his stomach and grabbed
Nik's hand. He looked into Nik’s eyes. "I swear to you, I did not betray your family." Blood
spurted from his mouth as he forced the words out. "Believe me, Master Drakan, on my honor, I
would never…"

His body shook uncontrollably for a moment then went still. His grip weakened and the violet
hue of his irises faded to black.

"Get that traitor out of my house!" Senator Drakan shouted from behind the massive assassin.

"Why did this happen?" Nik asked.

The calmness in Nik's voice surprised Marty since his hands were trembling and his heart still
raced.

Nik pulled his hands from Gaspar's and closed the man's eyes. He made a circular sign on the
man's forehead and whispered, "Journey safely into the light, old friend, paradise awaits you."
He stood and stepped away from the body.

As the giant assassin reached for Gaspar, Nik grabbed the dagger from his hand and lifted the
blade to his throat. The point pierced the giant's flesh and a drop of his blood fell into the pool on
the floor. The man froze.

"Why did you kill him?" he asked the faceless assassin, his hand steady now.

"He did so on my orders," his father said.

Still holding the dagger to the assassin's throat, Nik looked up at his father who now stood beside
the assassin.

The icy calmness abandoned him. "Why?"

Marty felt Nik's connection to the dead servant. Warm memories of a dedicated and lifelong
friend filled him as Senator Drakan removed the dagger from his son's hand.

"Lisandra, get in here and clean this up, right now," his father yelled as the assassin dragged
Gaspar's body away.

A woman, barely three feet tall, in a white gown, with pinkish skin and yellow hair, rushed into
the room with a mop and pail.

Eye of the Warrior - 84

Nik grabbed his father by the arm as the man walked away.

"You haven't answered my question, Father," Nik said, trying to regain his composure. "Why is
Gaspar dead?"

His father turned to him. "Because he's a traitor, both to our family and to the republic."

"How can you say that? He's been with our family for as long as I can remember. He would
never betray us!"

"The Enosians landed on Kapria over an hour ago and have claimed it as their own."

"And because Gaspar is Enosian you think he gave away your super secret plot to add Kapria to
the glorious Kailosian Empire?"

His father glared at him. "The only Enosian in this house last night was Gaspar."

"You have a very selective memory, Father, always forgetting that I'm half Enosian and maybe
the only full or half-breed with the ability to have overheard that brief chat between you and
General Bakku when you stepped away from the dinner table. So it's possible that I…"

Marty saw the eyes of the senator widen and fill with rage as he grabbed Nik by the throat,
silencing him. "Say another word about this and I will…"

Nik broke free from his father's tight grasp. "You'll do what? Ship me to that wonderful prison
colony on Malakkus… like you so desperately want to do with Mother?"

The Senator grabbed Nik by the scruff of the neck and pulled him closer. "You are my son. You
are a loyal Kailosian citizen, and that is all there is to it." He let go and took a deep breath. "I
refused to believe that Gaspar would be anything less than loyal. I was wrong. His betrayal has
cost us all dearly. I have to go meet with the High Council and explain this mess."

His father stormed out of the kitchen. Nik turned back to the tiny woman wiping up the last spot
of blood from the floor.

Marty wasn't sure what to make of it as he watched the woman scurry out of the room. Through
Nik's ears, he'd heard the information his father shared with the general. Gaspar had already left
the dining room when the senator and the general began their conversation. Maybe Gaspar was a
spy after all. Marty wondered. He remembered the face and the eyes of the dying man. Neither
had revealed a trace of a lie.

Nik went to the open door.

The giant was dragging Gaspar's body along a cobblestone path, away from his home. The sun
was rising. Pools of dark water surrounded the narrow path that led toward several acres of lush
green fields. Beyond the fields, a desert, and beyond that, hills of red clay.

Eye of the Warrior - 85

Halfway down the path, the assassin tossed Gaspar's body into the dark water and continued
walking.

If Gaspar was not a spy, how else did the Enosians find out the plans? Another spy in the room?

Nik raised his bloody hands. His vision honed in on the ring. It pierced beneath the layers of
blood and metal revealing skillfully designed nanocircuits.

Konnor…

Nik pulled the ring from his finger and flung it into the dark water.

Eye of the Warrior - 86

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Marty opened his eyes and found himself back in his own body and his own bed.

Not a dream, Marty! Nik shouted from somewhere deep inside.

Marty's heart raced. The sound of Nik's voice echoed as he pushed Konnor away and scrambled
off the bed. Beads of sweat clung to his brow.

Konnor, now on his back, remained in a deep sleep. Marty stared at him. The moonlight
cascaded over the upper half of Konnor’s body.

Not a dream! Not a dream! This time it was his own voice screaming out in his mind. He
remembered it all in vivid detail.

"You're right. It wasn't a dream," Leyli said from the darkened hallway leading to his bedroom.

Marty stumbled backward and tripped over a full laundry basket. He heard her voice, her
heartbeat, and the clank of her thick heels on the hardwood floor.

Leyli appeared in the doorway. The alarm clock on the nightstand beside the door displayed 4:45
a.m. Enough light filtered into the room for Marty to see the smile on her face as her eyes
roamed over his naked body.

He stood and pulled on a pair of black jogging pants and a white T-shirt from the pile of clothes
on the floor.

How did she get in? What did she want? Was she here to finish what Markus started? Were the
three of them in on this together?

The questions raced through Marty's mind faster than he could think of a possible answer. He
backed farther away.

Leyli went to Konnor and placed her right palm on his forehead. "The answers are all right in
front of you and you're still choosing to remain clueless. Why?" She sat at the edge of the bed
with her arms folded and her legs crossed, waiting for Marty to respond.

He refused to say a word. He ignored her as he ransacked the room looking for his favorite pair
of running shoes. He needed to get away. He needed to escape. He was sure his sanity depended
on it.

Eye of the Warrior - 87

"Refusing to believe in something doesn't mean that it doesn't exist," she said as she watched
Marty slip into his sneakers.

He wasn't going to listen. He wasn't going to give in. All he wanted was to feel the cool morning
wind on his face as he ran down the empty streets. He wanted to see the sunrise and think about
joining his friends for a drink later tonight at Pasha and maybe dancing the rest of the night
away.

He headed for the door.

"Giving in doesn't always mean giving up," she said as he passed her.

Marty stopped at the doorway. A chill swept over him that made him shudder. He shook it off
and continued without turning back.

***

Leyli listened to Marty race down the stairs. When he reached the bottom she flipped her cell
phone open.

"His big plan failed, as expected. He's headed your way now. This is maybe our last chance."

She ended the call and stared into Konnor's sleeping face. She placed her hand on his forehead
again. He was in a deep sleep and he would remain in one for several hours more. That would
work. It had to. There was no other way now.

***

Marty leaped over a large puddle as he rounded the corner onto Park Road. It was exactly what
he needed and wanted. The cool, early morning air smelled of fresh rain. He filled his lungs,
hoping to inject himself with a fresh sense of reality as he jogged toward the light of Charlotte's
rising skyscrapers. He forced his mind to remain in the present. He made a game of jumping over
any puddle he encountered and counting them. He was happy to hear only the sounds of his own
voice and the occasional splash as he jumped over one puddle and landed in another. A good
ache penetrated his calves and thighs. He was feeling more alive and like himself than he had in
days.

The occasional car passed, the closer he got to the city, but the streets were still mostly deserted.

The occasional splash behind him, along with the repetitive sound of two rapid taps and then a
hollow knock, caught his attention.

Tap-tap-knock…

It was faint and distant at first, but drew closer with each passing moment.

Eye of the Warrior - 88

The tingling sensation in the back of his head sucked him back into the reality he desperately
wanted to escape. A chilling breeze with a foul odor swooped down on him. The repetitive sound
became louder and accelerated. He heard someone breathing. They inhaled and exhaled at the
same rate of the tap-tap-knock.

Fear seized him. Marty finally realized that the repetitive sound was a heart, a strange foreign
heartbeat, belonging to someone. It came from behind him. They were closing in.

He looked over his right shoulder. The silhouette of a man came at him at an inhuman speed.
Marty ran faster, but kept looking back. He prayed for it to be another jogger. A moment later
the man was no longer a dark outline. Less than six yards away, Marty saw the chiseled features
of a man with a clean-shaven head. Something about him appeared familiar. Marty wanted to
breathe a sigh of relief as he glanced at the attractive man, but no jogger wore jeans and black
boots. The man was after something.

Marty suddenly remembered the face of the man Antonio Manzanetti danced with at Club Isis.
He also remembered the article he read about Antonio's disappearance. Was this the same man?
Did he have something to do with Antonio's disappearance?

A fire raged in his brain, telling him to run faster. Marty turned back again to see that the man
was now less than three yards away. He zeroed in on the man's eyes. The pupils and the irises
went from dark brown to frosted-gray. Another fiery explosion in his head sent electric jolts of
energy to his muscles. Marty knew that it was time to run for his life. Everything around him
became one giant blur.

***

Barak's nausea faded as soon as the scent of Nik Drakan traveled into his lungs. He was fully
aware that the great warrior still slept in the vessel known as Martin Cortez. That was what made
the aroma of his hidden power so irresistible. What exactly the Valkorian elders wanted with Nik
Drakan, he did not know. Truly, he didn't care. He did, however, want to get close enough to
sample what they longed for.

After locating Martin Cortez, he thought it better to watch and wait. The machinations of the
Enosians and Kailosians amused him. They were almost as good as the Valkorians, but not quite.
Little did they realize that he was about to sweep their precious prize off its feet.

Cortez was on the run. Faster than the average human. It could only mean what his olfactory
senses already hinted at; Nik Drakan was about to emerge.

Maybe he'd break a sweat tonight. He started to as he slashed the six-yard gap to three in two
seconds. It was time for the hunt to end. Take him down. Sample the goods. Deliver him to the
elders.

Barak's mouth watered at the thought of tasting so much raw power.

Eye of the Warrior - 89

***

In less than a second the three-yard gap closed to an arm's length.

"The time has come, Cortez. Don't fight it," the man said as he reached out to Marty.

A searing pain shot through Marty's calves and thighs. From the corner of his eye, he saw
fingertips reaching out to grab hold of his right shoulder. Marty swerved to escape. A hand
gripped his ankle and he stumbled onto the concrete sidewalk, landing hard, but immediately
managed to flip himself over and kick frantically at his attacker's face and chest. When the man
backed away, Marty scrambled to his feet, but another blow to his chest sent him flying
backward across the street. He collided with the stone façade of his favorite Irish pub. He fell to
his knees, winded, wondering if he'd fractured his skull or broken his back. His head spun and
his insides churned. It took a moment for his vision to clear.

Marty pulled himself together. Artificial light from the surrounding streetlamps and skyscrapers
helped Marty to see the outline of his attacker. He stood on the other side of the street.

The tap-tap-knock of his attacker's heartbeat was strong and steady. The man took a step,
bringing him underneath the amber light of the streetlamp. Fear ripped through Marty and
cemented him to the spot as he gazed across into the man's face.

It was the guy who'd danced with Antonio Manzanetti the night he disappeared. Even with his
eyes frosted over, Marty was sure.

He killed Antonio. Now, I'm next.

***

A heavy, steady rain was falling from the sky.

Barak's eyes narrowed and a smile formed on his lips. He loved the smell of fear that rose from
his prey when he had them cornered. This one was different. A blend of fear and power. He'd
never experienced the combination and it drove his senses wild.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Barak Valtet of the Valkorian Empire. I guess I should
thank you for the early morning run," Barak said as he walked toward Marty. The scent of Nik
Drakan grew stronger with each step. "I was looking for a challenge, but it appears your human
body, though well above average, is somewhat inadequate. You creatures seem to lack the
endurance and vitality that make for a great hunt." He stopped again, in the middle of the street,
and took a deep breath, filtering through the toxins in the air and letting the pure scent of power
fill his lungs. His insides shuddered. "Aahhh," he groaned as if at the tail end of an orgasm. He
could barely get himself to utter his next word. "Maybe… Maybe, I should let you go." His tone
was eerily seductive. "That way I can follow you around and watch you squirm in fear every
time I say, boo!" He laughed.

Eye of the Warrior - 90

***

Every muscle in Marty's body tightened as the cold rain poured over his body. Even though he
was shivering and his teeth were chattering, an intense heat was concentrated under the skin of
his inner forearms. His fingers trembled from the pain. The beating of his heart drowned out the
thunderstorm that raged overhead.

A burst of lightning illuminated the sky. Barak's face and body morphed before Marty's eyes. His
skin turned pale gray. A row of tiny metal spikes surfaced in the center of his forehead and along
his jawline. Another flash of lightning reflected off the shining metal of his pointed teeth as he
laughed.

Barak continued his slow approach. "I can smell him inside of you. I can almost taste Nik
Drakan, on the tip of my tongue." The blue tongue seductively traced his upper lip. "Wish I
could keep you all to myself, but your time has come, and all missions must come to an end,"
Barak said, and started running toward him.

Nik Drakan… here we go again. Damn it… Why do so many people want you dead?

Marty's heart slammed against his ribcage. Why did this ugly son of a bitch want him dead?

No time for questions. No time to get away. No one to come to his rescue this time, either.

Fear erased the excruciating pain in his forearms. He curled his fingers into fists to stop them
from shaking and prayed for enough strength to stand and fight, and not be this monster's
helpless victim.

He took a deep breath and hoped to God that he could land a hard kick in the son of a bitch's face
or throat.

As Barak neared, Marty raised his right leg to deliver the kick of his life, but a searing jolt of
pain tore through his chest and traveled to his inner forearms. Marty could bear no more. He
screamed, and as he did, twelve-inch metal daggers sprang from his wrists and pierced Barak's
chest.

Barak's frosted eyes widened and his otherworldly roar blended with a crash of thunder. His
body convulsed and a chalky substance spurted from his mouth. As he became still, the corners
of his mouth curved upward. "I've always loved a challenge," he said in a harsh, raw tone. A
yellow glow emanated from his wounds. "Let the hunt continue. I'm sure the best hunter will
win."

The yellow light expanded and covered Barak’s entire body. Marty trembled as he stared at the
glowing man-creature.

This had to be an extension of his nightmare. He was going to wake up at any moment in his
warm bed, safe and alone.

Eye of the Warrior - 91

The light intensified, blinding him, then vanished, taking Barak with it.

Marty looked down. Another flash of lightning reflected off metal blades that extended from his
inner wrists. The rain was rinsing the blades clean.

He staggered back, breathing fast and heavy. He held his hands up as he leaned against the brick
wall and then screamed as another jolt of pain shot through his forearms and the blades retracted
into his body.

It no longer mattered what he believed. All that mattered now was that he was awake. This was
not a dream. The only thing left to question was his sanity.

Marty sank to the ground. Before his heart could return to its normal pace, a warning pain at the
base of his brain jolted him back to his feet.

To his right he saw a man and a woman, both in dark jogging suits. Their faces morphed into the
same pale gray skin tone, but the spikes took on a different pattern. Another stabbing pain called
his attention to his left. A man stood in the middle of the street. He was tall and slim with jet-
black hair that covered most of his face. His blue and white striped shirt looked familiar. It took
Marty back to Isis on Sunday night. It was Antonio Manzanetti.

Marty took two steps toward him, but stopped when he noticed how pale Antonio's hand was as
he raised it to pull the hair away from his face. The frosted eyes looked straight at him. Spikes
jutted out above his brow and came down along the bridge of his nose. A shudder of revulsion
and sadness shot through Marty.

Three…

He couldn't handle three at the same time. He looked down at his wrists. Where were they? How
did he get them to come out the first time?

"Damn it," he said, curling and uncurling his fists, hoping to somehow coax the daggers out. His
eyes nervously went from his wrists to the monsters closing in on him.

When nothing appeared, he braced himself and prayed for a higher power to show him the way
out.

A shadow stirred in a dark alleyway across the street. Another chill ripped through Marty's body
at the thought of a fourth creature. A flash of lightning revealed the shadow as it flew through the
air, coming toward him.

With foot-long daggers protruding from his wrists, Luka soared several feet above the ground.
He caught Antonio unaware, severing Antonio’s head with his left blade as he landed.

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The blades sprang from Marty's wrists. He turned to face the other two who stopped their
advance. Marty took a step forward, but Luka leapt to his side and put an arm out in front of him.

Marty stopped.

They both watched a yellow glow spread over of the two joggers until they vanished.

Marty looked around, in a defensive stance, wondering if any more of these hideous creatures
would jump out at him. He saw that Antonio's body had disappeared as well.

What were these things? Why were they after him?

Luka retracted his daggers and placed a hand on Marty's shoulder. "It's over for now, but they'll
be back."

In the distance, lighter shades of gray and the sounds of approaching vehicles let them know that
the city was coming to life with the sunrise.

Marty winced in pain as his blades slipped back into his body.

"We should get out of here," Luka said, and gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

Marty hesitated. Exhaustion and pain clouded his thoughts. He watched drops of rain roll from
Luka's forehead, over the bridge of that nose, and past those lips.

"I know you." Doubt lingered in his voice. "At least, I think I do." He probed Luka's mismatched
eyes. He was sure he knew this man. "Before that night in Wilmington, before the elevator…
Luka Cordova… That's you. Am I right, or am I just plain crazy?"

He was dressed in black again. It fit his personality, Marty thought - dark, brooding, mysterious,
and handsome.

The foreign heartbeats grew louder. They were coming closer. More of those strange creatures
were coming for him.

Marty looked around, trying to figure out from which direction the beats came. "There's more of
them out there."

Luka gave his arm another squeeze. "We should get out of here before they decide to make an
appearance."

In the absence of a better plan, Marty figured going with the man that had saved his life was his
best option.

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CHAPTER NINETEEN

They sped out of the city in a sliver Mercedes Roadster.

Not exactly incognito, thought Marty, as they cruised northward on the interstate. The sky
brightened to a dull gray and a steady rain continued to fall.

"You haven't answered my question," Marty said, his eyes fixed on the wet pavement, his voice
low and composed.

"You're not dreaming," Luka said. "I am Major Luka Cordova, of the Elite Kailosian Guard."

A chill worked its way through Marty. Goose bumps spread across his exposed arms as the
dream came back to him. Gabriel Konnor had betrayed Nik. He'd used their love and Nik's trust
to spy on Kailos.

The Enosians must be the bad guys, Marty concluded. The voice had warned him to stay away.
That little show at the pool between Konnor and Markus must have been all part of their plan.
With a few sweet words, he'd fallen right into the arms of the master manipulator.

A knot formed in Marty's stomach. What a damned gullible fool he was.

***

Luka checked the rearview mirror. Only the rain pursued them. Knowing that did nothing to
soothe his tension. Time had run out and the Valkorians were here. He had not counted on that,
but he was not surprised. His head ached from the dozens of thoughts swirling around in it.

Valkor wanted Nik, too. Probably for the same reasons as the Enosians and Kailosians… that
damned key. Nik was the chosen one. Only he knew the exact location of the key to the ultimate
power. Maybe that was why they were here, on Earth. The key must be here.

Luka ran through the memories he'd captured from Dr. Vassir's mind and concluded that it all fit
too neatly. She'd forced him out of her mind far too soon. He should have had at least two more
minutes.

Though the senator had skillfully managed to control his mind probe, he still maintained an
advantage. She did not have the ability to read his mind. He knew the truth about the prophecy.
What he was able to glean from the doctor's memories let him know that Bacchus was trying to

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rush it along. If Enos got its hands on the key, they would reign supreme over Kailos. The
thought made his skin crawl.

Now Valkor was in the mix. He did not want to imagine what kind of a future it would be if they
became the keepers of such a power.

Luka knew that his rebirth was no accident of fate. He was here for a very special reason. Nik
Drakan would lead him to the key, and he would see to its destruction.

He glanced at Marty's profile, noting the furrowed brow and tense jaw. He felt a flutter in his
heart. War, betrayals, death, and rebirth… none of those could destroy his love for Nik. Being
near him, lying peacefully in his arms away from the fighting and the despair, was all he'd ever
wanted. Now, a world away, and it still evaded them.

Luka felt the weight of all the worlds between Earth and Provenshia resting on his shoulders.
One more betrayal left for him to commit. Their lives depended on it.

***

The muscles in Marty's neck and along his back tightened as the car pulled onto the exit ramp. If
this wasn't a dream and he was of sound mind, he needed answers now. "What were those things
that attacked me? The first one that came after me called himself Barak Valtet of the Valkorian
Empire. Do you know him? Do you know what they want with me?"

"I don't know Barak Valtet specifically, but those things were Valkorians," Luka replied. "I
suspect they want to extract some information that Nik Drakan has… information they need. The
easiest way for them to get to it is to take you now while he's locked away inside of you."

Valkorians. He remembered one of the dinner guests in his dream mentioning something like
that. "It didn't look like he wanted to take me to his leader for a friendly chat."

Luka flicked a glance his way. Their eyes met. "Valkorians aren't exactly known for hosting tea
parties." He smiled for a brief moment then turned his attention back to the road. "Their form of
extraction does not include witty conversation over cocktails."

The term 'extraction' brought back memories of trips to the dentist office as a child. The image of
a needle descending into his open mouth alternated with another image of a needle coming
toward his eye. A chill ran through him.

"What do they want to know?" Marty asked.

"They're searching for the key of Adaria."

"What is that?"

"Something that will allow them access to the greatest power in the universe."

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Marty sighed and put his head back. This all still seemed so unreal. Too much had happened for
him to think he was having a nervous breakdown.

"So those things, Valkorians – are after this key. What about the Enosians? Leyli and Konnor…"
Marty stopped and recalled Konnor's clever seduction. Was Konnor still unconscious in his bed,
or had Leyli wakened him?

"Major Gabriel Konnor." Marty detected a hint of bitterness in Luka's tone. "Enos will stop at
nothing to advance its empire. Major Gabriel Konnor will use you, just as he used Nik, to gain
the advantage for his republic."

A searing jolt of pain shot from the center of Marty's chest, spreading out to the rest of his body.
He froze, unable to speak or move. Then he felt himself drifting away, as if he was leaving his
body, but he could still see the rain splashing on the road ahead. He heard muffled, angry, voices
in the distance, but could not make out what they were saying.

Marty panicked. It was Nik, trying to take over. He did not want to die. He wasn't going to let the
bastard commandeer his body without a fight.

***

"And the noble Kailosians have come to the rescue of these poor innocent beings? Is that what
I'm supposed to believe, my love?"

Luka pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car. The scornful edge in Marty's tone
told him that it was Nik speaking. Luka gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. He
could not bring himself to look at Nik. The memory of the final time they'd looked into one
another's eyes was still too fresh in his mind.

"We must find the key of Adaria and destroy it. Where is it?"

Nik let out a disdainful laugh. "I should have known. This world and these bodies may be
different, but the republics of Kailos and Enos still serve only themselves."

Swallowing his fear and pride, Luka turned to face him. "I understand that."

"And now I'm supposed to trust you, Major Cordova?" Nik's gaze searched his eyes. He grabbed
Luka's hand, and in a breathless whisper, he added, "You'd better sharpen those daggers if you
plan to drive them into my back again." His eyes closed, his body went limp, and he sank back
into the passenger seat.

Luka turned to face the windshield. As he feared, the Nik Drakan inside Martin Cortez
remembered it all, and he was not ready to forgive. He stole a quick glance at the man next to
him. Maybe he would remember their love, too.

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Luka pushed the foolish thought away and reminded himself of his mission. It was time to
awaken Nik Drakan. He shifted the car into drive and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The
ultimate power was out there somewhere and he had to destroy the key that would unleash it.

***

More pain shot through Marty as he struggled to regain control. He shivered, eyes closed, for
several breathless moments, as Nik retreated. When his control returned, he looked through the
windshield at the dreary sky and wondered about the key everyone so desperately wanted.

By the time the car turned onto the cobblestone driveway of a lakefront home, Marty was numb
with exhaustion. His eyes followed the pathway to the jagged slate façade of the home's first
level. Rain fell against the worn wood panels of the upper half. Shutters covered the windows on
the first floor. Those on the second floor were uncovered, but dark and uninviting.

Nik ordered him to run.

Don't trust his words or his touch. He betrayed us once and he will do it again.

Marty refused to listen. He wanted to punish Nik for intruding on his life. If it weren't for him,
none of this would be happening. The monstrous face of the alien that had attacked him flashed
in his mind.

Antonio Manzanetti was one, too. How bizarre. He wasn't missing after all. The young executive
was a gray faced, white-eyed alien. He wanted to burst out laughing, but he did not have the
strength.

How many of those things were out there? He glanced into the rearview mirror and listened for
the strange heartbeat.

Marty was thankful he only heard the hum of the engine and ignored any sounds coming from
Luka and Nik.

Against Nik's advice, Marty remained in the car as it pulled into the garage. Then he walked into
the house and entered the living room. It had all the trimmings of a luxurious, rustic cabin.
Exposed oak and mahogany surrounded him and touches of East Asian and Pre-Colombian art
intermingled with Western American decor.

Marty went to the bay window overlooking Lake Norman. Thousands of tiny ripples, produced
by the falling rain, danced across its surface. His hair, sweats, and T-shirt were still damp from
fighting in the pouring rain. Cool air circulating through the room chilled him to the bone. Marty
wrapped his arms around his chest to stop himself from shivering.

"This should help," Luka said a few minutes later.

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Marty turned to see a fire burning steadily in the fireplace. He didn't want to get any closer to
Luka, but the warmth beckoned.

"This place, is it yours?" Marty asked as he slowly approached the fire.

Luka tossed four large throw pillows on the floor. "Sort of." He peeled off his wet T-shirt. "It
belongs to my mother… or should I say the mother I was born to here."

The sight of Luka's bare chest stopped Marty in his tracks. Memories of their encounter in the
parking garage elevator returned to him. Marty's internal temperature rose as he watched Luka's
chest expand and contract. He diverted his eyes, searching for a distraction, and noticed family
photos on the mantle of the fireplace. He picked up a photograph in a wooden frame of a smiling
Luka wearing a black graduation cap and gown. To his left stood a curvaceous woman in a white
suit with auburn hair and hazel eyes. On the other side was a striking older man, with a
weathered yet elegant face, in a dark suit.

"Oh, my God," Marty said with a sudden burst of recognition of the auburn haired woman.
"Adriana Montero is your mother?" She was the reigning queen of the telenovela – Spanish
language soap operas. "You're Andres Membarak," he added with the strange excitement a
thirteen-year-old girl reserves for their favorite pop star. As downright bizarre as his life had
become the last few days, he could not believe the shirtless man in front of him, claiming to be
an alien warrior, was also the playboy son of the Argentinean actress and Lebanese
multimillionaire, Faruk Membarak.

On one knee, Luka stoked the fire with a poker. "She's in Buenos Aires and he's in Dubai. A
match made in hell… as they say here."

"I know. My grandmother, back in Puerto Rico, keeps up with the tabloids. And she thinks you
should marry that former Miss Universe you're supposed to be dating," Marty quipped as he
placed the frame back on the mantle.

Luka pulled the poker from the flames. He lowered his head and stared at the gray stone platform
with a half-smile. "I'm sure your grandmother would love to hear what's become of Andres."

Their passionate kisses flashed through Marty's mind again. It wasn't Andres Membarak he'd
kissed. The feeling he remembered, the one he was experiencing right now, was not for him.
They were for a man called Luka. "If you're Luka Cordova, what has become of him?"

Luka bounced back up. "Andres is somewhere deep inside of me. Some things from his life
come to me now and then, a fleeting memory here and there." He lifted the poker, pointing to the
graduation photograph. "I have many memories of them. Not too many of Miss Universe." His
half-smile became a full smile as he lowered the poker. "I speak Spanish very well, some Arabic,
a little French, and of course, this accent follows me wherever I go."

Eye of the Warrior - 98

Marty detected a sparkle in his eye, but it faded quickly along with his smile. Marty wondered
what awesome burdens the man carried that made his expression so dark and so deadly serious.
Then he remembered the monsters… the Valkorians… the fate of the world.

Luka pointed a tiny remote control at the bay windows and metal security panels slowly
descended.

"Am I your prisoner now?" Marty asked as the panels snapped shut.

"I only want to protect you," Luka replied.

He remembered Gabriel Konnor making the same declaration. Though Marty was ignoring Nik's
warnings, he could still hear them. "And who's going to protect me from you?"

Luka raised the poker to Marty's face, his expression undecipherable. "If I wanted you dead, I
wouldn't have saved your ass." He lowered the tip of the poker, letting it come dangerously close
to Marty's throat. "And if I wanted to kill you, I'd do it right now."

Marty stared unflinchingly at Luka. "So why don't you?" he asked, surprised by his own bravado.

Luka lowered and dropped the poker. "You're more like him than you care to admit."

"Spare me." Marty sighed. "I've already heard that one this week."

"His time has come, Marty." Luka came closer. "You must stand aside."

Marty refused to listen to Nik's petitions to run or Luka's pleas to surrender. These sons of
bitches had turned his life into a living nightmare and now he was supposed to say goodnight?
He wasn't afraid or confused anymore and he would be damned if he gave in without a fight.
Anger warmed his body from the inside out.

"Let Nik take his rightful place?"

Luka nodded.

"And if I won't let that happen?"

Luka narrowed his eyes and drew closer. "You think that you're the only one who's had to
sacrifice? Andres' memories come and go as they please. He had friends, a family, a life… I had
to step in because it was time."

Marty wanted to drown out the sound of Luka's voice, but a sense of familiarity, a connection
without any memories tied to it, kept him rooted.

"The memories that come to me tell me he lived a very good life. Not a care in the world, except
for which one of his father's companies he'd run when the time came. He actually didn't care for

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100

any of them. He preferred to party with the rich and famous around the world. He did that very
well." He laughed.

Luka's laughter suddenly irritated Marty, like fingernails scraping a chalkboard. He backed away
and cut into the jovial moment. "So, when you came knocking, he gladly stepped aside and said,
'Please take my life, I'm done.'"

"He knew I was there waiting to emerge. When the time was right, he let me through." Luka
sighed and paused. "He understood and realized it was for the greater good."

"Maybe he was a bored playboy looking for a new high, but didn't realize once he allowed you to
step in you'd never give him his life back."

"This war is inevitable!" Luka snapped. "Whether you decide to step aside or not won't change
that."

"Then leave me out of it," Marty said, and headed for the door.

Luka grabbed him by the arm and twirled him around. "I can't do that because they won't."

Marty tried to pull away, but Luka would not release him.

"I know you don't understand what's happening to you, and you want to go back to the life you
had, but like it or not, when the war reaches the boundaries of Earth no one will be spared the
horrors or the agonies. If you walk away, you take this world's best fighting chance with you."

Marty finally pulled himself free of Luka's grip and turned away to stare into the flames in the
hearth. He didn't want to be anyone's last great hope. He only wanted to figure out how not to
spend eighty hours a week at the office. He wanted to wake up in the morning and not feel the
weight of the world strapped to his shoulders. He wanted to share his life with a man who wasn't
scared to death to live on his own terms.

He looked down at his wrists. They looked normal. Normal - that was a joke. Foot long daggers
came in and out of there. Nothing about his life had ever been normal. Something new to add to
his list.

How long would it be before all hell broke loose? Hours? Days? Months? A vision of a thousand
Valkorian warriors swarming the streets of his Long Island neighborhood sent chills all over his
body.

He felt Luka's hand on his shoulder, warm breath caressing his cheek and neck. The images of
war faded from Marty's mind.

"I admit my reasons are completely selfish. My love for Nik and Provenshia drive everything
that I do," Luka whispered. "I want to save them both. Maybe you don't give a damn about my

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101

world or my love, Marty, but there must be something here on Earth that you do give a damn
about… Think about it. Then maybe you'll find the courage to surrender."

Marty thought of his parents, now retired and spending the month in Puerto Rico. At this
moment, they were probably going for their morning walk along the beach, hand in hand, and
laughing about how they should have left the casino when they were ahead instead of waiting for
the big jackpot. They were happy, blissfully unaware – something he wished he could be again.

"So if you find and destroy the key, it'll be over?"

"We'll keep absolute power out of the wrong hands."

"Absolute power," Marty barely whispered.

"Yes."

"You think something like that really exists?"

Luka placed his lips close to Marty's ear and spoke softly. "After what you've seen, is there still
any doubt?"

Marty didn't know what to think. Other visions of Luka popped into his mind. Still the same
serious face. Still the same intensity in a pair of violet eyes. Marty remembered making love to
him; hearing his short breaths, feeling his bare taut body pressed close, fingers intertwined, lips
connected, and the spicy scent of his flesh.

Marty’s heart raced and his cock hardened. He was supposed to leave. He was supposed to run
and not look back. But he could not move. He didn't want to.

Luka pressed against him. Those hands wandered under his damp shirt. Hot breath cascaded over
the curves of his right ear.

Nik screamed in Marty's mind to get out, but Luka's hand found its way to the center of his chest
and a rapid influx of warm energy silenced him.

Every part of Marty tingled. Every nerve ending danced. Worry, doubt, and fear disintegrated.
Every breath he took was like his first. He sensed each particle of oxygen as it entered his body
and traveled into his lungs. The aroma of Luka's flesh made him harder. Now all Marty heard
was the rhythmic thumping of their hearts.

Marty turned, Luka's hand, still touching him, still feeding him energy. He raised his hand and
placed his palm at the base of Luka's sternum. Now they both shuddered. They both gave and
received. Like opposite ends of a magnet, their bodies drew closer. The infinite loop of energy
brought them to their knees.

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102

Soon the energy they shared formed a self-sustaining sphere around them. They shed their
clothing and rediscovered one another with frantic hands and mouths. Marty quivered with each
ravenous kiss.

He let himself fall back onto the throw pillows. Luka remained on his knees, the fire blazing
behind him. Marty's body tingled from the inside out as Luka's hands gently caressed his inner
thighs. He watched Luka's eyes wander up and down his naked body. Those moist lips appeared
fuller as they whispered words, too far away, and in some foreign language Marty could not
understand. Lightheadedness filled him as the rush of warm energy circled his brain.

Luka seemed far away, a bronze god out of his reach. A light sheen of perspiration covered
Luka’s heaving chest, as he prayed or cast a spell.

Marty no longer cared. His mouth watered at the thought of savoring Luka's salty flesh. His eyes
traveled below Luka's waist to where that swollen cock called out to him to come closer.

Then he felt Luka's powerful hand wrap around his cock and squeeze. His heart skipped a beat
and he instinctively thrust his hips upward. As Luka's lips touched down on the head of his cock,
shudders of desire swept through him. With eyes wide open, visions of Provenshia came to him.
Luka appeared with vibrant violet eyes and a smile directed at him. Their naked bodies lay side
by side, in a lush green valley with towering, red clay mountains in the distance.

The vision vanished when Marty no longer felt the warm suction of Luka's mouth. He watched
Luka crawl forward like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

Willing and able, Marty raised his legs to let Luka find the way in. The weight of Luka’s body
and the scent of that flesh fed Marty's desire. He couldn't wait any longer. He wanted to know
Major Luka Cordova fully and deeply.

Marty held his breath and readied to accept Luka completely when Luka's voice invaded his
mind.

It's time to complete the mission and pull Nik Drakan to the surface.

An arctic chill swept through Marty's body, extinguishing the rabid desire.

"No, you bastard," Marty screamed. A surge of cool energy rushed from every part of his body
toward his chest. Before he could pull himself away, an energy beam shot from him.

Marty watched Luka's face twist in agony as the incandescent green light forced its way inside
him. His body convulsed until the light faded. Then he collapsed into unconsciousness.

Marty once again found himself slipping into the darkness. He didn't want to leave, but he knew
he had no choice. Nik Drakan was once again calling, and he had to follow.

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103

CHAPTER TWENTY

A cool breeze caressed his cheek in the darkness. Marty felt the weight of a hood on his head.
When his eyes saw a translucent, dark mist passing over the twin moons in the night sky, he
realized he was back on Provenshia.

Once again, Marty found himself trapped within a body he had no control over as Nik Drakan
moved quickly down an empty street.

Tall buildings, mostly made of stone, glass, and metal, lined both sides of the alien city street.
They were rectangular or cylindrical in shape. The ground appeared to be a dark, marble-like
surface. There were no cars, fire hydrants, streetlamps, or vegetation.

Nik picked up his pace, turning left at the next cylindrical skyscraper then right at the next
intersection. In the distance a pyramid stood. It appeared to sit in the center of the metropolis and
dwarfed all the surrounding buildings. An ethereal glow emanated from its golden facade. Marty
wanted a closer look, but after another mile Nik turned, leaving the magnificent structure behind.

Soon, the glass and golden towers were far behind them. Now all Marty could see were much
smaller buildings, most between five and ten stories tall and the color of mud or red clay. Light
shone in a few, but most were dark. There were paved roads, stone sidewalks, and streetlamps,
but still no vehicles.

As Marty wondered about the people, a sudden influx of voices attacked. Hundreds of them
came through like a jumble of whispers. The chatter was as irritating as being in the center of a
beehive. The voices grew louder, overlapping one another. Someone laughed hysterically,
another moaned in ecstasy, while somewhere a child cried.

Nik came to a sudden stop and surveyed the area. One by one the voices faded, until only three
remained.

"The Valkorian Empire is honored by your invitation, Senator, but I must say I would have
expected a more suitable meeting place. The cities of Kailos are known throughout the galaxy for
their opulence." The man spoke in a shrill tone.

"These times call for discretion."

Marty recognized the last voice. It was Nik's father, Senator Drakan.

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104

Nik was on the move again. Staying in the shadows, he slipped into a narrow alleyway and
headed toward its rear.

"Ah, yes, they do. Enos appears to be gaining the upper hand in this unofficial war. Claiming
Kapria was quite a coup. Rumor has it that the Lydian Islands, the crown jewel of Provenshia,
are on the brink of breaking their long history of neutrality and declaring themselves an Enosian
State. That would be most unfortunate for you and the rest of your people."

"I don't put my faith in rumors. The Lydians are far too intelligent and civilized a people to ally
with the likes of the Enosians," Dr. Vassir said, as Nik reached the end of the alley. "I do,
however, agree that the taking of Kapria was quite a coup and the Kailosian Republic, for its
own sake, must see that balance is maintained."

Marty watched in amazement as Nik's fingertips suctioned onto the outer wall, allowing him to
scale the seven-story building with the speed and agility of an insect. When he reached the top,
he clung to the side of the building and peered over the edge. Three figures stood on the roof of
the neighboring building. The dark mist no longer covered the moons, making it easier to see
their faces.

Dr. Vassir wore a flowing black cloak. A hood covered part of her face. Senator Drakan wore a
similar cloak, but his hood was down. Both their gazes were fixed on the Valkorian.

Marty shuddered when he looked into the pale gray face with frosted eyes. The line of metal
spikes came down the sides of his face. He wore a dark uniform, resembling a flight suit, with
strange symbols imprinted in gold on the upper arm.

The Valkorian swaggered past the senators. When he reached the edge of the roof that faced the
street, he turned back to them. "As lovely as the slums of Kailan are, I'm sure I was not invited
here for the express purpose of seeing how the less fortunate live."

"The Republic of Kailos," Senator Drakan began, "is in need of regaining some ground in this
delicate internal matter. We believe that the Valkorian Empire is able to provide some
assistance."

"And why should Valkor give a damn if Kailos prospers or perishes?" the Valkorian asked as he
looked toward the mega structures of the Kailan skyline. "Nearly a century ago, when Valkorians
were dying by the millions on a daily basis, this grand Republic did nothing. You wrote us off as
a disease-ridden people that had nothing to offer and left us to our own devices."

"Those were different times, Ambassador Malakor." Dr. Vassir moved toward the Valkorian.
"We were recovering from a long and vicious war with the Zakkurites and had neither the
technology nor financial capabilities to help. But we can help you now."

Another internal chill caused Marty to shudder. Her voice was the same; soft, reassuring, and
calming. He'd disclosed his most secret desires and fears thinking that her pure heart was helping
him to find his true path in life.

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105

The knife sank deeper into his back.

The cold, calculating bitch had hidden her cunning and deceit well. There was no one he could
trust, Marty was sure of that now.

"Help us, Senator Vassir?" Ambassador Malakor looked in their direction. "Why would Valkor
be in need of anyone's help, especially yours? After recovering from our pandemic we've
managed to become a resilient and self-sufficient society."

"Yes, you most certainly have, but still a society that is in dire need of cytranium, a resource that
we Kailosians have access to in abundance. The republic would be very appreciative for any
assistance that the Empire provides."

"I see." Malakor approached the senators. "A mutually beneficial relationship?"

Both senators nodded.

"If we do nothing and the republic falls, we may be able to get our hands on the cytranium
anyway," Malakor said, laughter escaping him as his voice trailed off. The sinister tone rang in
Marty's ears. "Letting your people suffer while we waited, as you did, would be poetic justice."

Senator Drakan's eyes narrowed. "If Kailos falls under Enosian rule, Valkor may never see an
ounce of cytranium. The Nazrian outpost has been one of their goals for the last decade. I doubt
the first thing on their agenda will be mining and shipping cytranium to Valkor. And you must
remember that Enos did aid the Zakkurites in their attack on Valkor, destroying what little
supplies you did have of cytranium and starting that unfortunate pandemic. I am sure that
Emperor Zelek would not like to see an Enosian expansion anymore than the Kailos would."

The Valkorian's eyes unfrosted, revealing a sparkling shade of blue. They searched the
Provenshian night sky.

As they stood in silence, Marty heard the foreign beat of the Ambassador's heart. Tap-tap-
knock… tap-tap-knock…

"I'm afraid time is not on either of our sides, Ambassador," Senator Vassir prodded.

Malakor glanced at both of them as he cleared his throat. "State your proposal."

Nik's father came up beside Senator Vassir. "We will provide you with leases for mining and
exporting all the cytranium Valkor needs from Nazria. Our geologists indicate there should be
enough to last for centuries and, if used cautiously, maybe a millennia. In exchange, your ships,
when they initially dock in Nazria, will supply twenty tons of untreated Valkorian sea water,
preferably from the southeastern quadrant of the planet."

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A baleful grin returned to Malakor's lips. "Cytranium for water?" He looked around and laughed
for a moment. "Is this Kailosian humor at its best?"

"This is deadly serious," Senator Vassir replied.

The Valkorian ambassador's laughter tapered off. Though his smile remained, his eyes
brightened with curiosity. "And why is Kailos in dire need of Valkorian sea water? How will that
help stem the growth of the Enosian Republic?"

"The need is strictly scientific and an internal matter that you need not concern yourself with.
Our generous offer should be enough to satisfy the Ambassador's and the Emperor's curiosity."

"Tempting offer, Senator," Malakor looked skyward again, looking as though he was in deep
thought. He ran the tips of his fingers over the spikes along the sides of his face several times.
"Why haven't the Kailosians created more super warriors? Surely an army of them would be able
to stop an enemy… any enemy of the State. Was the project deemed a failure?"

The senators looked at one another for a moment. From the look in their eyes, Marty was sure
neither one of them knew how to respond.

Malakor moved in closer, until there was only an arm's length of space between them. "I guess
having an army of powerful beings that still have their own free will would make for an
unmanageable society. Whatever happened to the test subjects? I'm sure they must have been
destroyed."

Senator Drakan's face hardened. "You have thirty seconds Malakor; after that the offer is off the
table," he said with a low and commanding pitch to his voice.

Malakor nodded and with a blink of his eyes he let them frost over again. "I'm sure Emperor
Zelek will be most pleased with the outcome of our meeting. When will the leases be issued?"

"You'll have them by sunrise."

"Very well, a ship will be ready to dock at the Nazrian station, with your sea water, in no less
than forty-eight hours."

The senators gave curt nods.

"It has been a pleasure. I hope that our next meeting will be in more pleasant surroundings,
perhaps in the presidential palace. If I had a glass of sparkling wine from the Drakan Rok
vineyards, I would toast to our profitable union. My regards to your families and colleagues."

Another layer of dark mist covered the moons. As Ambassador Malakor bowed to the senators, a
shapely dark figure landed on the same rooftop Nik used for his spying mission. Like a lioness
hunting its prey, the figure approached the edge of the roof's surface putting her directly in front

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of Nik and across from the senators and the ambassador. She extended her right arm in their
direction.

Was she aiming for the senators or the Valkorian, Marty wondered, and figured Nik was
wondering the same thing as he hoisted himself onto the roof.

Another, larger, dark figure landed near her. The outline was that of a male. He charged toward
her.

Nik stopped his advance and watched.

As the larger figure tackled her, a beam of blue light discharged from her hand, aimed at the
ambassador.

Before the beam reached him, Malakor vanished in a flash of amber light, unaware that he was
the intended target. The beam landed with a fiery blast against the roof's surface. Both senators
made a quick exit.

Nik turned his attention to the battling shadows. The smaller, shapelier figure held her own
against her larger opponent, matching him kick for kick and punch for punch, until another large
figure appeared, striking her from behind.

As the mist receded, the light of the moons fell upon her pained profile. Marty felt a surge of
energy rush through Nik's body when he recognized Leyli's face. Her opponents looked like
identical twins, covered in black with their heads protected by metal helmets, like the man that
had killed Gaspar.

Nik charged at the men with daggers extended from his wrists.

One of the men noticed Nik. He aimed a small metal object at him that shot out a ball of red
light.

Marty wanted to shift Nik's body out of the way and wondered why the idiot continued running
toward it.

Nik retracted his daggers and caught the ball of light energy. It seared the palms of his hands as
he split the ball of energy in half and fired them both back toward the men in black, hitting them
before either made another move. Both men burst into flames, dropped to the floor, and then
vanished.

Nik went to Leyli and helped her to her feet. He looked into her shimmering violet eyes for a
moment, before feeling the stinging blow of her palm against his cheek.

"That's for leaving without saying goodbye," she said, her eyes smoldering with anger. She was
dressed in a formfitting black suit without the black toga. The wind swept her golden hair before
the violet night sky. She looked down at his hands and said, "Wish I healed that quickly."

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A drop of blood sat on the corner of her mouth.

Nik raised his hand and wiped the drop away with his thumb. Before either of them said a word,
a resounding thud let them know they were not alone. Four more giants dressed in black landed
on the roof, two to his left and two his right.

"Two for you and two for me," Nik said to Leyli, adding a wink.

The glare in her eyes softened. She released a pair of daggers from her wrists and let out a battle
cry as she charged the guards to her left.

Nik dropped his cloak and turned to the two guards coming toward him. Instead of extending his
daggers, he used his fists, punching one and kicking the other simultaneously.

Both guards reached for the tiny contraptions in their belts.

Nik extended his daggers and sliced through the leather sashes. The giant to the right dropped to
catch his sash. Nik kicked him in the face, sending him over the side of the roof. A sharp, searing
pain in his left side made him turn. He plunged both daggers into the other giant's gut. The man
fell dead onto the rooftop.

Nik looked down and saw the worn bronze handle of a dagger sticking out from under his
ribcage. He sank his teeth into his lower lip, then grabbed the handle and tore it from his body. A
wet, burning sensation struck. Marty felt it and a wave of nausea. Blood trickled slowly from the
wound.

Why isn't it healing? Marty wondered.

Nik dropped the knife on the dead body at his feet. He turned to see the other two, already dead,
behind Leyli.

"Are you an assassin for Enosian Central Intelligence now?" he asked. "And who exactly were
you trying to assassinate? My father… the good doctor… or their newfound best friend?"

"Why are you spying on your own people?" she countered, while catching her breath.

"My people," he said with a snicker. "My blood runs cold for both sides. I have no people."

"It's been a long time, but we still have a lot in common. The rumors of war grow stronger
everyday in Enos. It's as if Enosians thirst for it. Every day I wake up and play the good warrior.
I used to think I knew exactly why I was doing it, but some time ago I realized I no longer had a
clue." She turned to face the moons. "I began doing the one thing many say a good warrior
should never do."

"Think about what you're being asked to do and then ask why?" said Nik.

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"I not only started asking why, I went in search of the answers, and found more than I wish I
had." She paused, taking several breaths. "This morning I followed my father and General
Bacchus to Sumaria, where they met with Ambassador Malakor. They struck a deal. In exchange
for Valkorian seawater, Enos will allow Valkor to mine the bright side of Kapria. The planet is
rich with cytranium."

"Seawater," Nik pondered. "Why are the republics so interested in Valkorian seawater?"

"Seawater isn't the only thing Enos is getting out of the deal," Leyli said as she turned back to
him. "The Valkorians are going to help attack the Lydian Islands tomorrow morning, making it
look like Kailos was responsible. Somehow, the alliance the Kailosians have made with the
Valkorians will make it back to the Lydian High Council and they will have no choice but to ally
themselves with Enos. I followed Malakor here. It was the only chance I had to stop him, or at
least delay the attack long enough to warn the council. Now it's too late. He's back on his ship,
planning."

"Yes, planning to make fools of us all. I'm still for the life of me trying to understand why now
and what in the Creator's name does the Valkorian Sea have to do with all of this?"

"The Adarian prophecy," she said matter-of-factly.

"What?" Marty heard Nik ask, while he thought the same thing.

"The Adarian prophecy," Leyli repeated, "'To those that locate and master the key shall the
strength and glory of the universe be bestowed upon.'"

"I know about the prophecy; we all learned about it our first year of Universal Literature. It's in a
book of fables," Nik said dismissively.

She grabbed Nik by the arm. "Fables based on the prophecies of the sorceress Adaria. She
foretold the undoing of Provenshia. We would destroy ourselves in pursuit of the almighty power
to rule the galaxy." She looked at the dead bodies by their feet. "It looks like we're on our way."

"It's a myth… a good story that some old woman made up thousands of years ago to entertain
everyone on a cold and lonely night."

"We've formed alliances with the most despicable life-forms in this star system to learn how to
propel ourselves beyond these borders in search of that key. None of the high and mighty
senators or generals will ever admit to it, but that's exactly what they're after. Why did you think
Kapria was so important to both Enos and Kailos?"

"Another piece of real estate… it’s been a winner takes all race for as long as I can remember."

"True, but there's more. A wormhole exists several thousand miles beyond the Kaprian
atmosphere. Both republics know it’s the portal to go beyond our star system. They're after the

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key. Worst of all, the Valkorians don't think it's a myth, either. If they don't already know about
the wormhole, I'm sure they'll know soon enough."

"It's just a silly myth," Nik insisted, and turned away.

Leyli stepped in front of him. "Some think we're a silly myth," she said, and she released her
dagger in front of Nik's face.

"So you know about Project Providence?"

"That's the downside of being a spy," she replied, and retracted the dagger. "You always find
more than you wanted to know."

"There's no denying what we are, but that doesn't mean there's any truth to this prophecy. Kailos
and Enos have been trying to go beyond the borders of our star system for hundreds of years and
have only managed to get as far as Kapria. Somehow I don't think they'll make it to a
neighboring star system in our lifetime."

"As I said before, sometimes you find more than you wanted to know. I think that's where the
Valkorian seawater comes in. Though toxic to any non-Valkorian life forms, when broken down
into its natural elements, and in combination with pure Provenshian Kalis Stone, you have the
most powerful fuel source known… powerful enough to cross multiple star systems in the blink
of an eye."

Nik stared into Leyli's eyes. "Or create weapons powerful enough to annihilate our world several
times over… I guess I should have paid more attention in Advanced Chemistry."

Leyli's expression softened, a smile almost appearing on her face.

Marty's ears buzzed with the sound of several pairs of feet coming toward them.

"Reinforcements are on the way. You need to get out of here now. Take this with you." He
pulled a silver necklace with a jagged blue stone from around his neck and handed to her. "Go to
Lydia and find my grandmother in the Grand Market Palace. She's always there. Give this to her
and tell her everything about Valkor's planned attack. She'll know what to do."

"What about you?" Leyli asked, not letting go of his arm.

"I'll stay behind and distract them a while."

The footsteps grew louder.

Leyli came closer and caressed the cheek she'd slapped so fiercely. "Will I ever get to see you
again?"

The shimmering hue of her eyes dazzled Marty as they searched Nik's with longing and sadness.

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"Perhaps in another lifetime."

She clasped a hand to his other cheek and kissed him.

The sweetness of her lips lingered on Marty's palate as she pulled away.

"Safe journey, my dearest Leyli," he whispered.

Leyli nodded.

She gave him a smile with even more sadness in her eyes and touched his cheek one final time
before turning and leaping toward the neighboring building.

Nik watched her rapidly leapfrog over the rooftops until she disappeared into the night.

Marty sensed Nik's sadness and felt the burning pain from the wound in his side. Blood still
trickled from it.

Nik wrapped himself in his dark cloak, pulling the hood over his head, and walked to the roof's
edge facing the street. A dozen elite Kailosian guards swarmed the streets. Two flirted with
prostitutes on the corner, while two more ran down the street past the building.

He pulled the hood off his head and raised his leg to stand on the edge.

"You slaughtered four of my best men," a familiar voice said from behind him.

Nik turned.

It was Luka. He wore the uniform of an elite guard with his helmet in his hand.

"Maybe you should have sent four of your most mediocre if you knew that I was to be their
target. It would have made the loss more palatable by Kailosian standards," Nik said.

"You care so little about your own people?"

"I care for those who aren't trying to kill me," he quipped.

"I once thought a heart beat beneath that firm chest of yours. I guess I was wrong."

"A heart…" Nik let out a bark of disdainful laughter. "Are you referring to the same heart you
were assigned to steal, then use to your advantage?"

Luka's eyes shifted away from Nik for a moment, then returned. "I was drawn to you from the
first moment you joined the Guard. I knew we shared something deeper. But you were the son of
a senator and always had a spotlight on you. I wasn't sure I was ready for that. When General

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Bakku and the council ordered me to watch over you, I figured it was the Creator's will. That,
and I didn't believe you were a spy for Enos. I wanted to prove them all wrong… so did your
father."

"All for the greater good. How noble of you."

Luka moved in closer.

Marty tried his damnedest not be mesmerized by the eyes that peered at him with such intensity.

"Your clandestine meetings with that Enosian barbarian on the beaches of Adaria didn't help
with proving your loyalty. And after the taking of Kapria it left them with few options."

"I never once betrayed the republic. I'm guilty of only one thing… trusting the wrong people."

"Would that include the Enosian spy you've just helped to escape?"

"Always the good warrior, Major Cordova… never question why, just do and die."

"We'll stop her before she reaches the border."

Nik laughed, causing the gash in his side to throb painfully. "An Enosian raises an eyebrow, but
a Valkorian ambassador in the middle of a Kailosian slum means nothing?" Marty felt waves of
anger wash over Nik as the muscles tightened all over his body. "Did the slaughter of innocent
civilians mean nothing; in Nazria, Kapria, or here, in our own world… within our own
republic?" His heart raced as he spoke through clenched teeth. The pain in his side was
spreading. "And now, an alliance with Valkor… if this means nothing to you, you're the one
without a heart or a brain."

"Everything's a conspiracy to you. The entire republic is against you. Will anything I say to you
ever make a difference?"

Nik glanced at the bloodied dagger with its bronze handle. Hot and cold waves rushed his body.
He wiped away the droplets of sweat that formed on his brow.

Marty read Nik's thoughts as his eyes went from the dagger to Luka.

Poison…

It hurt deep inside, another sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. His vision blurred.

Nik took a deep breath. "Has anything I've said made one for you?" Acid crept its way up his
esophagus as he spoke. "Being my shadow, you know everything that I know, yet you still refuse
to believe that this impeding war, and this desire for greatness, whether it's Kailos or Enos, is a
disease that will consume both winner and loser."

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Marty heard the guards enter the building.

Nik bared his daggers, holding them up and crossing them over his chest. "Shall we?" he asked
as the guards started up the stairwell.

"It doesn't have to end this way, Nik. I still love you."

Marty felt a tear fall from the corner of Nik's right eye. "The strangest thing of all, Luka, is that I
truly believe that you do."

Luka bared his own daggers and took a step closer.

As a thick, dark mist swept over the moons, Marty's vision through Nik's eyes faded to black.

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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Consciousness returned with a startling jolt. Marty woke with a full memory and some residual
aches and pains, Luka's unconscious body lay partially on him. The fire was out. Not even the
tiny glow of an ember or a plume of smoke remained.

Marty rubbed his temples to slow the throbbing. He wondered how long he'd been out this time.
He looked down at Luka's expressionless profile resting on his chest. He was breathing. He was
alive.

Poisoned… Luka’s men poisoned Nik.

A subzero chill spread over Marty's body, while the horrific thought settled in with absolute
certainty. He pulled himself out from under Luka and put on his sweats and T-shirt.

Marty felt the hard sucker punch of reality below his navel as he paced back and forth. There
was no one to turn to or trust. Spiky pale face and his friends wanted him for an extraction. Then
there was Markus, Konnor, Luka, Leyli, and Dr. Vassir. Did they want him dead or alive?

Marty ran to the front door. He wanted to run as far and as fast as his feet would take him. He
reached the door only to find it was locked. He went from room to room, seeing security panels
over all of the windows. His heart raced as he went down the back hall and tried the door to the
garage.

He slammed his open hand against the door twice. It also needed a key to open. He paced back
and forth thinking of what to do next.

Call the police… Yeah, they'll think I'm either crazy, high, or both.

Marty rammed his fist into the door. It went through the two-inch thick solid oak surface. He
staggered back and stared at the hole. He hadn't expected that.

Looking at his hand, he saw blood, splinters, torn skin, and a piece of bone protruding from his
center knuckle. It hurt, but not at much as he thought it should.

He peered through the fist-sized hole and spotted the roadster. He kicked the door open, then
realized he needed keys.

He remembered Luka slipping them into his pants pocket as they stepped into the living room.

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Marty raced back into the living room.

As in his first vision, Luka rested on his back, barely showing any signs of life. His body, perfect
in its nakedness, slumbered between the throw pillows. Marty knelt by his side and reached out
to touch his face, but stopped with the hand an inch away from his cheek. Marty remembered the
vision and did not want him to wake.

A pawn in your games… I guess that's all I am. Who's telling the truth?

Marty wanted to reach into Luka’s mind and pull out the answer. He felt love. He felt hurt. He
felt betrayed. His head exploded with a fiery ache.

A sigh escaped between Luka's lips.

Marty jumped to his feet and found Luka's jeans. He pulled the keys from the pocket and headed
for the garage.

The sky was a blend of blue, pink, and burnt orange as he hit the open road. The sun was setting.
Through the sounds of evening rush hour traffic, he heard the faint beating of several Valkorian
hearts. North? South? East? West? He had no idea. Marty gripped the steering wheel, swallowed
hard, and floored the accelerator.

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CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Marty parked on the fourth level of the parking garage next to the Americas Bank Tower. He
turned off the car and stared into the rearview mirror.

"So what else have you got for me?" Marty asked, hoping Nik would answer. "Apparently
everyone wants me; dead or alive. How did I manage to become so popular?" For a moment he
wished he was back in Long Island. No one knew his name there. When he was a kid, no one had
talked to him, not even the bullies.

Marty slipped back into the comfort of the soft leather. He wanted to wait for most of the bank's
employees to leave. He'd missed an entire day without notifying anyone and did not want to stop
twenty times to explain why. What would he say? Attacked by some ugly fuckers from another
planet and had hot sex with a couple of aliens, then went on an intergalactic jaunt in my dreams.
He pictured the blank expression on his manager's face, then looked into the rearview mirror and
laughed.

Nik's last revelations put him back to square one. There was no one to trust. Right now, he wasn't
sure who posed a greater danger, the power-hungry Kailosians and Enosians or those pale beings
with frosted eyes and steel jaws. There was something inherently dark about them. Something
destructive. Something evil.

He thought of the key. They were all hell-bent on finding it. Did it really contain the power to
control the universe? What would a world controlled by Valkorians be like? The answer came to
him in a clear image in his mind: scorched land, turbulent seas, dark gray skies, and not a human
being in sight. Chills ran up, down, and across his body. He closed his eyes and prayed that
neither he nor Nik had the power to see the future. He pushed the image out his mind and stared
into the rearview mirror, waiting.

He wanted to slip in and out unnoticed. In his desk he'd stashed a spare set of car keys and an
ATM card in case of an emergency. He figured this qualified.

After several waves of vehicles had left the parking garage, only three others remained on the
same level. He opened the car door to make his way to the office, but before closing it, there
came the clack-clack of high-heeled shoes.

Marty jumped back into the car. When he looked through the rearview mirror he saw Carrie
Walton, the administrative assistant of CIO Aidan Bacchus. Carrie, a true southern belle from the
Blue Ridge Mountains, was an attractive woman in her mid forties with a full figure, platinum
blonde hair, and big, blue eyes. Though petite in height, barely five feet tall, she always wore a

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pair of six-inch stilettos. Today they were pink to match the pink and white dress that hugged her
body. She strode to her vehicle in a hurry, carrying a large, white leather handbag and stack of
manila folders. Behind her was Bill Evans, the Assistant Vice President of Products and
Services.

Marty had always admired his handsome, clean-cut look that veered toward the conservative. In
his charcoal gray suit and white shirt, he still had that fresh and clean look, even after a long day
at the office.

Their vehicles sat side by side behind Marty. Carrie stopped at the Toyota Camry and Bill at the
Land Rover.

Marty slumped down farther into the seat. He glanced at the time on the dashboard. It was seven
minutes past eight. If he wanted to catch any flight heading out of Charlotte tonight, he needed to
get to his desk now.

He took a deep breath and anxiously watched as Carrie placed her bag and the files she carried
into the trunk. Bill came up beside her as she slammed it closed. She greeted him with warm
eyes and a wide smile.

"Would you two hurry up and get the hell out of here," Marty whispered. As a sigh escaped his
lips, Carrie's smile vanished.

The sudden tap-tap-knock of the Valkorian heart told Marty that one of them was near.

Fear seized him.

Carrie's welcoming eyes widened in terror as Bill Evans transformed into a Valkorian. Tiny
metal spikes ran across his forehead and along his both sides of his jaw.

Oh, God, it's him.

Barak's hands clasped onto the sides of Carrie's head.

Carrie opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

"Let her go!" Marty shouted as he jumped out of the car.

Barak let Carrie's limp body fall to the ground.

He morphed back into Bill Evans. "I knew that would grab your attention," Barak said, and
smiled. "Now, where were we?"

Marty curled the fingers in both his hands into tight fists and extended his arms. He looked at his
wrists, waiting for the daggers to appear, but nothing. He gagged as a pungent odor invaded the
space around him.

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Barak morphed back into his Valkorian form. "Technical difficulties?" he asked sarcastically,
and took several steps toward Marty. "Maybe this will help," he said, and kicked him in the face.

Marty's feet left the ground as the stinging pain spread from the center of his face. He landed
hard on the back windshield of the roadster, shattering it.

Marty wasn't sure what was worse, the broken nose he was sure he had, the shards of glass
embedded in his back, or the ugly bastard coming toward him. He pushed himself off the car.
Blood poured from his nose and his back was warm and wet with it.

Barak loosened the tie around his neck, "You humans enjoy wearing the most bizarre things."

Marty staggered back, his heart pounding in his ears and his teeth clenched. His back and face
sizzled with pain.

"What do you want from me?" Marty asked, still moving backward.

"I asked that same question when I was given this assignment. You stupid creatures bore me. I
wondered what possible value a lowly humanoid creature like yourself could bring to Valkor and
why my superiors salivated at the mere mention of your name. Overall, your species is quite
weak and inept. Easy to track and take down. An excellent appetizer. But I didn't think we'd
come all this way in search of fast food. So I did what all good hunters do, I watched and waited.

"Then I sensed you that night. The great Provenshian warrior trapped inside an average Earthling
male. I should have swooped down on you while you lay in the middle of that street, but there
was something hypnotic… almost addictive about being near the power swimming its way to the
surface within you." Barak laughed as he took slow confident steps toward Marty. He stopped,
took a deep breath, and shuddered. "I'm almost ashamed to say that you got me off – big time."
He licked his lips.

Marty wanted to vomit. He wanted to run. Was the rank creature going to fuck him or eat him?
Maybe both. He continued to glance down at his wrist, hoping the weapons would sprout forth.

"But alas." Barak continued toward Marty. "My superiors were displeased. They told me to stop
jacking off and bring you in, so I guess the time has come. I would have to say you did take me
by surprise last time. I didn't think you had any idea how to use those shiny, sharp tools of yours.
From what I can see, I guess it was dumb luck. I was looking forward to a good battle, but I
guess this'll be short and sweet."

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, his face morphing back to human form as he placed a
call.

Was Bill Evans always Barak the Valkorian, or was this monster impersonating Bill? He'd seen
Bill on a daily basis since he began working at the bank two years ago.

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How long had they been here? How many of them were there? Who else around him was
masquerading as a human?

Marty choked down the vomit in his throat and then faked a run left before darting to the right. A
flying kick to the chest knocked him to the ground. Barak quickly glided over by his side to
deliver another blow to his face.

"Hey, honey, I got caught up at the office." He stomped on Marty's chest. "Can you drop Billy at
the Dawsons? He's looking forward to that sleepover. I'll stop by the grocery store and pick up
dessert and a bottle of your favorite Shiraz."

The warm, metallic flavor of blood filled Marty's mouth. Every muscle in his body tightened and
the icy sensation beneath his arms returned.

"We definitely have something to celebrate tonight. I'll tell you all about it when I get home. See
you in a bit." He ground his heel into Marty's chest, making Marty cry out. One of Marty’s ribs
snapped as the heel dug in once again.

Through blurred vision, Marty watched Bill transform back into a Valkorian. The chill beneath
the surface of his forearms now spread over his entire body, sending him into an epileptic fit.

"Hate to spoil our fun, but I've got to get a chocolate mousse and a bottle of wine, and then go
home and fuck Bill's wife before Nightline comes on." He pulled another cell phone-like device
from his pocket and spoke into it. "It's Barak. Target has been located – coordinates are as
follows."

Marty's trembling ceased as Barak keyed in the coordinates. The daggers tore through the skin of
his wrists, and without hesitation Marty raised them both. His right dagger plunged into Barak's
groin while the other sliced through the thigh of the leg that pinned him.

A milky, gelatinous ooze showered over Marty. Barak collapsed onto him, violently shaking.

"I'm gonna rip your fucking heart out and eat it!" Barak shouted, and went for Marty's throat
with metallic canines.

"Eat this, you son of a bitch," Marty said, and drove his left dagger into Barak's open mouth.

Barak's body shuddered. Before Marty could retract the dagger, Barak vanished in a flash of
yellow light.

As he wiped the ooze from his face, he heard a faint sigh. It came from Carrie's direction. Marty
picked himself up and hobbled closer.

Carrie reached for her head and moaned louder.

His daggers retracted when he knelt beside her.

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"Are you all right?" he asked as he brushed the hair away from her face.

Still moaning, she reached out and slowly opened her eyes. She blinked several times and tugged
at his shoulder to pull herself up.

"Don't move. I'll get some help," he reassured her, but Carrie continued to pull.

He tried to nudge her back to the ground, but she would not move. Her right hand lunged
forward and slammed into the center of his chest.

"No need, dear, I'll be perfectly fine," she said with her blue eyes open wide and that famous
welcoming smile on her lips.

The energy gushed in a steady flow from Marty's body. He fell back, weak and powerless to stop
the tiny administrative assistant. He saw the greenish light surround her hand. Slowly, her face
turned pale gray and her eyes frosted over. The metal spikes surfaced one at a time over her
eyebrows. Out of her pocket she pulled the same device that Barak was using to transmit
coordinates.

"Target apprehended," she said into the device.

He wanted to fight back, but he didn't have the strength to lift a finger. The beating of his heart
slowed. His eyelids grew heavy and were about to shut when Carrie's head was separated from
its body. Streams of chalky ooze gushed into the air.

It covered Marty's face, blinding him.

"Oh, fuck. I hate the mess these things make."

Still weakened from Carrie's theft, Marty staggered to his feet and wiped the Valkorian blood
from his eyes.

Markus stood before him with daggers extended and his fine pinstriped Italian suit covered in
alien blood.

"And before you thank me," Markus said as his daggers clanged and swished, one against the
other. "I want to let you know that I'd be damned before I'd let Valkor or anyone else have the
sweet satisfaction of taking you down first."

A flash of yellow light blinded them for a second as Carrie vanished.

Marty stepped backward, taking short, rapid breaths, thankful that the Valkorian blood that
covered him had vanished with her. He wished for Markus to vanish with a flash of light, but the
brute was still coming toward him. Every part of him ached. He knew he didn't have enough
energy for another fight. He needed time to recoup more of his strength.

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The base of his brain started to tingle. Since he'd left Luka's lake house he'd tried unsuccessfully
to communicate with Nik. Given the circumstance, he figured he had nothing to lose by giving it
one more try.

Oh, great, delayed warning… Too fucking late, dude. Your buddy's sharpening his knives and
looking at me like I'm a Thanksgiving turkey. Wake the fuck up and help me find a way out of
here!

Streams of electric pulses ran through his body. His strength was returning, but Nik remained
silent.

You're a smart guy, Marty. You can figure a way out. You've survived the wicked queens of the
Queen City… you can deal with this over-inflated macho windbag. Use your brain.

Markus started toward him. "Don't take this personally, Martin Cortez, my quarrel isn't with you.
If my old friend… that traitorous bastard, wasn't laying in wait inside of you, we'd probably
make great drinking buddies and tear up a few bars in this city… without the sex, of course."

Marty took a deep breath. "You're the last person I'd wanna have sex with."

Markus stopped his approach to laugh and shake his head. "I didn't mean to insult you. Frankly, I
don't get much of a rise out of you, either." He swished his daggers together and continued
toward Marty. "I'll try to make this quick."

Marty took a step back for each step forward Markus made. He searched his brain for something,
anything that would help him. Then it came to him. He wasn't sure how or why, but he knew
there was no time to question it.

"You said that same thing to him, after your first sparring match at the academy. You read his
mind and he read yours. You became blood brothers that day and got so drunk that night you
both were almost expelled."

Markus stopped his advance. His eyes narrowed. "I remember." He started to smile before his
face contorted in anger. "It's a pity he didn't remember that the day he walked away from his
people and the republic."

"Nik was always torn by his love for Enos and Kailos. You knew that from the start, and it didn't
matter because your bonds went deeper than that. When his father sent for him, he had to go and
honor his request. He may have left Enos, but he never forgot or betrayed his people or the
republic."

"Liar!" Markus exploded. "He betrayed his people and our friendship the day he joined the Elite
Kailosian Guard. That day he swore his oath and his life to Kailos. He spat in the face of Enos
himself, and plunged his dagger into my back. He betrayed his people again when the Kailosians
attacked Lydia, killing my mother and hundreds of others." His voice trailed off a moment.

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Marty saw the intense pain in his eyes as they became glassy. "Until then I thought that there was
some hope of reaching my good friend, but when I learned that the dear, sweet grandmother that
he adored and spoke of so often was blown to bits in the attack, I knew he was lost. If her life
mattered so little to him, no one else stood a chance."

An enormous chasm of sorrow split open within Marty and a fist-sized lump formed in his
throat. Nik was now grieving the loss of his precious Dora. She'd loved him without condition
through his entire life. Marty knew that. He saw the details of Nik's life clearly in his mind. One
tear fell from the corner of each eye.

Markus lifted his daggers. "Your tears mean nothing to me," Markus said, his words dripping
with bitterness.

The knot in Marty's throat disappeared. He fixed his eyes on Markus once again. "They weren't
meant for you," he said, his tone low and steady. "These tears are for them. They didn't deserve
the fate they met that day. They didn't deserve to be casualties in this eternal battle for
greatness."

"Like your tears, your words do nothing to move me." Markus retracted and released his daggers.
He took another menacing step forward.

"You have no idea who's responsible for the attack on the Lydian Islands, do you?"

"Of course I do. Senator Khal Drakan, with the help of his one and only half-breed son."

"It was the alliance between Valkor and Enos that led to that attack… a deal brokered by General
Bacchus and your father, Chancellor Zorhan." Markus cut his eyes away and bit down on his
lower lip. A bitter silence hung in the humid air of the garage. "Ask Leyli. She uncovered the
plot, but I guess she was too late to stop it. They must have caught up with her that night…"
Marty's voice trailed off as he searched for more memories.

Markus raised his gaze back to Marty and smiled. "I should have realized who I was talking to.
Deception is in that toxic Kailosian blood that courses through your veins. The time for words
ended light years ago, Nik. The time for Enosian justice has arrived."

"Misplaced vengeance is more like it." Marty's daggers sprang forward.

Markus charged toward him. "Call it what you will, the time to pay has come."

Marty drew in the warm air of the garage, then charged. He deflected Markus' daggers with his
own, then kicked the man in the chest and flipped backward into the air. As soon as his feet
touched the ground, Markus was once again charging in his direction. They tangled, dagger to
dagger.

Markus attacked with furious speed and brutal force, occasionally retracting a dagger and
landing a punch.

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Marty weakened quickly and knew that he needed to put space between them. He deflected a
blow, then followed with another kick to the chest.

Markus' dagger sliced into his outer thigh as he flipped through the air.

His own daggers retracted as he cried out and stumbled backward, trying to regain his footing.

"I see you forgot the cardinal rule of the academy – never attack or counter with the same move
within the first minute of a fight unless your opponent is severely weakened or not very smart."
Markus stopped. He leaned against the Land Rover and proudly looked at the crimson streaks on
his left dagger.

Blood gushed from Marty's thigh. He tried to keep his knees from buckling and ignored the pain
while propping himself up against the convertible.

"I'm glad I had a chance to spar once again with the great warrior." Markus beamed. "Now, I put
an end to you once and for all." Markus charged toward Marty.

Nik finally broke his silence. Concentrate, Marty, and gather every drop of strength and energy
within you. Then listen to the beat of your own heart. You'll know when it's time to let go.

Marty took several deep breaths and listened to only the rapid thumping of his heart. As the
sound grew louder, the energies, like crazed red ants, traveled from every corner of his body and
came together to form a whirlwind in the center of his chest.

Markus raised both blades, ready to meet each side of Marty's neck.

Marty took one more deep breath, and when he exhaled, he let go and a torrent of light energy
sprang from him. It struck and propelled Markus into the air, over the SUV and through the
opening leading to the parking level below.

Marty fell back against the car, stunned and weakened. He wanted to curl up into a ball and
forget the world, both this one and the one he knew to be light years away. He looked at the spot
where Carrie had collapsed. They'd played him. How many more Valkorians were out there?

He still needed to find a way out to think of what his next move would be. Where would he go?

Marty pushed himself away from the car and started walking. No matter where he was going to
go, he needed money. He needed to get to his desk.

He looked at his blood-covered hands and thigh. The throbbing ache in his face also reminded
him that he probably resembled a walking corpse. Walking in through the main entrance looking
like this would arouse the suspicion of the bank's security team. He knew the way in with the
least interaction was through the alcove for the private elevators of the bank. All he needed to do

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was walk quickly and hope the guard on video surveillance duty would not notice that he was
drenched in blood.

Marty realized he needed a security card to gain access to the bank's elevators. His was at home.

His sensitive auditory nerves detected a car speeding its way up the garage. From the corner of
his eye he saw Carrie's keys still on the ground. An Americas Bank security card was linked to
the keychain. He went to it.

The car was getting closer.

As he picked the keychain up, he saw the black Mercedes turn onto the level below.

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CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

The bright headlights of the Mercedes followed him as he ran toward the alcove. Marty's shaking
hand swiped the keycard to gain access. The first failed. After the second swipe, the light on the
door handle was still red.

"Come on." Marty gritted his teeth and tried a third time.

The Mercedes came to a stop. Its doors opened and closed. The light on the door handle finally
gave the green go signal.

Marty pushed open the glass door and ran into the waiting elevator directly across. He pressed
the button for the sixtieth floor. The headlights were bright, almost blinding. Two figures moved
toward him.

He slammed his fist against the close door button and held it there. The glass door of the secured
entrance snapped open as the elevator doors slid shut.

Every part of him ached. His heart raced and the growing pressure around his skull made him
feel nauseous and lightheaded. His blood was everywhere. It dribbled from his thigh, leaving a
trail. He pulled himself up with the handrail. The opaque reflection in the steel doors frightened
him. He no longer recognized that man.

"What are you?"

He reached out with his bloody palms and pressed them against the doors. Running made no
sense now. They all wanted something from him. They wouldn't stop until they got it.

The burning sensation at the base of his brain snapped him from his pity party. They were getting
closer. He had to run or else. He had to stick with the plan – get what he needed from his desk
and then lay low some place safe.

Safe!

Marty laughed the same mad laughter that sent chills through him, except this time he only felt
the burning in his brain. There was no safe place to go. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

The doors slid open, and a punch between the eyes greeted him. Before he could fall back, a
hand reached in and pulled him out of the elevator.

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Marty's body flew through the air and collided with a mahogany framed picture of the bank's
founding fathers hanging on the marble wall. Both he and the founding fathers dropped to the
floor with a resounding thud.

"Clever move you had down there."

Marty shook his head to clear his vision, and when he looked up his body shuddered in terror as
he starred straight into the eyes of Barak, posing once again as a fresh and clean Bill Evans.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you how unfair it is to strike an opponent below the belt?" Barak
asked before slamming his fist into Marty's chest.

"You're supposed to be dead." Marty's voice trembled. Another rib cracked and penetrated a
lung. He could barely take a breath.

Barak morphed into his Valkorian form. His eyes frosted over then quickly unfrosted with one
blink. They were now a sparkling ocean blue. "Many Valkorians are still bitter about the
genocide our neighbors turned a blind eye to. Nearly a billion lost… I think it was a positive
thing for the Valkorian race. Where our neighbors failed us, evolution lent a helping hand. It
made those left behind more determined than ever to survive. Death no longer has a place in
Valkor. Some say on that final day of the epidemic, when the entire city of Kuria perished – a
half million souls rushed the valley of the gods. Overwhelmed and furious, they blessed the
offspring of those left behind." His eyes frosted over again sending a chill up Marty's spine.

"Not sure I believe the story about the gods, but something did happen. And look at us now.
Nothing can stop us. We come back stronger, faster, and wiser each time. Isn't that right, my
friends?"

Carrie emerged with Antonio from the shadow of the hallway. They radiated with human
vitality.

"Yes," Carrie said, wearing a big smile on her face. "I love what it's done to my skin." She
caressed her cheeks. "And my boobs look pretty damn hot, too."

Marty pulled himself up as their faces morphed. They had him cornered and outnumbered. He
needed to stall. He needed something. It was time to call on Nik again.

Come on, you've got to give me something I can use.

"You played them both," he said, with staggered breaths, crying out to Nik with his thoughts.
"Forming an alliance with Enos and Kailos, so they'd declare war on one another eventually."

"Very perceptive, but I'll leave the politicking to the politicians. I'm a hunter on a mission, and
you're my prey. You've put a good fight so far… maybe you're not as inadequate as I thought."

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Nik wouldn't answer. He was on his own. Three to one. Marty saw no way of tilting the balance
in his favor this time. Even if he did manage to get away from them, how many others would be
waiting for him outside? Maybe it was time to give up. His body ached. His mind no longer
wanted to comprehend the nightmare he'd been living. He slumped back against the wall and
closed his eyes.

"I guess they don't make Provenshian warriors like they used to," Barak mocked.

Marty heard a sudden gasp and opened his eyes.

"No, they make them better," Konnor said, his daggers protruding from Antonio's chest.

Carrie released an ear-piercing wail. She grabbed hold of Antonio and pushed backward, sending
both him and Konnor through the glass wall of the meeting room on the other side of the
corridor.

"Finish him!" Barak ordered.

The odds are even now. It's time to strike.

Marty was relieved to hear Nik's voice again. Mustering all of his remaining strength, Marty
administered a series of swift and hard kicks to the side of Barak's knees, causing Barak to lose
balance. He pushed himself up and forward, tackling Barak and pinning the man to the sealed
elevator doors.

"Die, you ugly bastard," Marty said, repeatedly ramming his knee into the hunter's gut. It hurt to
breath. It hurt to move. He was mad as hell and wanted someone to pay for all of it. He lifted his
knee one more time, but lost his momentum as he lost his breath.

Barak took hold of his leg, then lifted and slammed Marty onto the floor.

Pinned under Barak's knee, Marty swung his fists into the air, hoping once again that the daggers
beneath his forearms would deploy and chop the psychotic alien's head off.

Instead, Barak's right hand swooped over him, grabbed hold of both of his wrists, and forced
them down against his chest.

Barak brought his steel jaws close to Marty face. "Release your weapons now and tear out your
own heart." Barak’s shrill tone transitioned to a tiger's purr. The warm, rancid breath poured over
Marty, gagging him and burning his eyes.

Barak parted his lips in a joker's smile. "Earth will belong to Valkor, and once that happens
Provenshia will fall, and both the Enosians and Kailosians will pay with their blood and tears."

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128

Marty squirmed to break free as Barak pulled the communicator from the inner pocket of his suit
jacket. He looked into Marty's eyes, then placed the device back into his pocket. He came closer,
letting the tips of their noses touch.

Marty felt the sharp spikes pierce the surface of his forehead.

Barak inhaled the breath that escaped between Marty's lips. "If only I could keep you for
myself." He shuddered as he whispered to Marty. "But you are of great importance, so I can only
have a taste before I deliver you into welcoming arms." He inhaled again.

Marty purposefully held his breath.

"Let go… there's nothing that can help you now."

He wasn't going to let go, not now and not for this ugly fucker. Marty squirmed and kicked, but
to no avail. He grew weaker by the second. He tried to concentrate, but there wasn't enough
energy left in him to generate a squirt, much less a full blast. He was sure his only remaining
lung would collapse at any moment.

The elevator doors sprang open.

A black boot with a thick heel slammed into Barak's face. The other collided with his chest,
lifting him off Marty and sending him into the marble wall.

Leyli stepped from the elevator and delivered another kick to Barak’s jaw.

Gratitude and suspicion washed over Marty at the same time.

She offered him a hand.

He hesitated, uncertain if she was going to help him up or chop it off. Out of the corner of his
eye, he saw Barak rise. He opened his mouth to warn her as the second elevator's doors opened.

Luka jumped out and tackled Barak.

Leyli grabbed hold of Marty, pulling him to his feet.

"Get him out of here," Luka yelled as he tried to shield himself from the sharp Valkorian teeth.

Leyli tugged at Marty, but he wouldn't budge. He looked into Luka's eyes wondering what in hell
was going on now and who was on which side.

Go! Nik urged, but Marty remained frozen.

Barak turned and lunged for him.

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129

Luka grabbed and pulled Barak back to the ground. "Take him now!"

Leyli pulled, and this time Marty followed.

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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Marty gazed at the enormous hole in the glass wall of the conference room across the hall. It
overlooked the courtyard where many of the bank's employees had their lunch. Konnor, Carrie,
and Antonio must have all crashed through it.

"Which way do we go, Marty?" Leyli pleaded. "We have to get out of here before more of them
appear."

A loud cry came from Luka.

Pain, death, and destruction were all around him, as they were for Nik on Provenshia. The voice
he had ignored for so long was now the only one he could turn to. The only one he could trust.
Marty took a deep breath and asked, What do I do?

Nik replied without hesitation this time. Now you know what I know. Have faith in what you feel.
I put my trust in you, Martin Cortez.

Marty looked into Leyli's eyes. He remembered the Leyli from Nik's memories. He would have
to trust her and Nik. He looked to his left, then his right. The tap-tap-knocks of the Valkorian
hearts and their footsteps were getting louder. He grabbed Leyli's hand and said, "This way."

They went left, racing down the corridor to the south side of the building. Leyli pushed open the
stairwell door. The staircase only led upward.

She swore under her breath. The tap-tap-knocks were closer.

They looked at one another and knew they had no other choice.

They climbed several more stories, until they reached the roof door. Leyli kicked the locked door
off its hinges. They moved to the center of the bank's helipad.

The warm night air swirled around them.

Marty looked up into the cloudless sky. His eyes immediately found the Provenshian solar
system.

"How do we get out of this?" he asked, still staring at the sky.

"The Valkorians won't stop their attack against you."

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131

"You mean against Nik."

"No, against you, Marty. Nik's still somewhere deep inside of you and you're refusing to let him
out."

"I have a hard time letting go," Marty said. He looked away from the sky and toward her.

"So did he." She turned her head slightly and Marty realized she was listening for any
approaching Valkorians.

"You can hear them, too?" he asked.

Leyli nodded. "One of our many special gifts," she replied with a sarcastic tone.

"You never made it beyond the borders of Kailan that night, did you?"

Leyli snapped her head back toward Marty. She stared at him in silence for a moment.

"When Markus sprang out of nowhere he told me about the attack on the Lydian Islands." A tear
fell from Leyli's violet eye. Marty wiped it away. "I'm sorry about your mother."

Her gaze drifted beyond Marty. "A band of elite guards ambushed me as I was about to board a
barge to cross the Straits of Providence. They destroyed the barge, but luckily, I managed to
escape.

"At sunrise I stole a shuttle. I was in the middle of crossing, when an explosion off the coast of
Adaria triggered the widening of a chasm beneath the strait, near the Adarian Sea. A massive
wave destroyed the shuttle. I swam toward the shore amid the bomb blasts. I was too late. Instead
of running around playing super spy, I should have alerted my mother to my father's wonderful
plan."

"You had no way of knowing she'd be on Lydia that morning. And, as much as I hate to defend
him, I'm sure he didn't either."

Who am I?

Nik's thoughts and memories flowed so freely through him that he felt he should shiver and
recoil from the invasion of his mind and body, but he didn't. His breathing improved and he
could feel his insides starting to mend.

"Are you helping the Kailosians or is Luka siding with Enos?"

His question caused her to look into his eyes again.

"Neither."

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"What other side is there? And please don't say Valkor."

"Major Cordova pulled me from the water and took me to shore before the next blast rocked the
coastline. We hid in the caverns underground while the assault continued. We thought we were
safe, until another explosion caused the ground beneath our feet to open. I think we fell for an
eternity before we hit bottom. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It
was Adaria… as beautiful as ever. She hovered in the air, naked. Her black hair flowed in the
breeze. A golden light emanated from her ivory skin and her eyes glowed.

"Luka stood beside me, as amazed as I was. I thought we'd broken our necks in the fall and that
we were dead, or well on our way to being dead. We stood there with mouths open and listened
as she spoke of the prophecy and our place in it. It was as if she knew we were coming. It's all
about the key, Marty, we have to find it and return it to her… to Provenshia… before Enos,
Kailos, or Valkor gets their hands on it. And only Nik can take us to it."

The Valkorian hearts, beating in stereo, were now upon them.

Two male Valkorians dressed as police officers stepped through the doorway of the roof's
entrance.

"Behind you!" he shouted as they charged.

Leyli released her daggers and spun around, kicking one in the face and the other in the chest.
Before her feet could touch the ground, one of the Valkorian officers grabbed her by the ankles
and slammed her against the concrete rooftop. The other raised his foot to stomp on her face.

Marty released his daggers.

"No!" he screamed as he rushed toward the officer. He severed the raised leg at the knee with his
left dagger, and plunged the right one into the Valkorian's chest.

Leyli screamed at him to move away. When his gaze reached her, he saw her daggers swinging
toward the officer at her feet. His gun was drawn. Two shots rang out in rapid succession before
her blades reached him.

The bullets entered Marty's ribcage. He lost his ability to take another breath. One bullet ripped
through both lungs and the other punctured the left chamber of his heart. From the corner of his
right eye, he saw the officer, still impaled on his dagger, lift and fire his gun.

He fired round after round into Marty's chest.

Leyli released radiant blue fireballs from the palms of her hands, incinerating the Valkorians on
contact.

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Before either of them could react, another Valkorian impersonating a police officer appeared in
the door and fired more rounds of ammunition into Marty.

The force propelled him backward.

Leyli obliterated the officer with another blast of blue light and then raced toward Marty.

Marty watched her run. Her hair whipped behind her and her eyes were wide and wild with
terror. Her lips moved, but Marty heard only the sound of his fading heartbeat. He wanted to
stop, so that the look of sheer terror on her face would vanish, but his body continued to move,
until he slipped over the edge of the tower.

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CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

The air surrounding him came alive, like a thousand pairs of cold, wet hands tearing at his flesh.
Knowing it would be over in a matter of seconds gave Marty no comfort.

He'd failed.

Earth would fall.

The monsters had won.

He found the Provenshian star in the night sky.

I've failed you as well.

Marty focused on the purple solar system. He retreated deep into his mind, and the world around
him faded to black.

***

"Welcome." Nik's voice was crisp and clear.

Marty was no longer falling through the air. He stood with his feet firmly planted on the ground.
No pain. The air was warm and fragrant, almost sweet. In the distance, waves crashed.

"Open your eyes."

For the first time, the voice was outside his head. Marty did not want to open his eyes. He didn't
want to give in. He didn't want to die.

A pair of strong hands came down on his shoulders.

"It's time, Marty. You must open your eyes."

Marty opened them slowly. Before him stood a raw and more hardened version of the man he
saw in the mirror every day. The shorter hair and the lines around his violet eyes made him seem
several years older. His golden warrior's body was covered by a white toga wrapped around his
waist.

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They stood atop a precipice of red clay, overlooking the sea. Two moons hung in the amber
violet sky to the west. It was even more breathtaking than in the memories Nik had provided
through his dreams.

"Am I in heaven?" Marty asked as his eyes roamed. "Or is this really Provenshia? Either way, it's
paradise."

"Neither, I'm afraid." Nik said. "It's a memory. A memory from my lifetime that I'm able to share
with you. I doubt if it’s still a paradise."

"The war," Marty said as the stark reality seized him.

"Yes, our precious war. It's on its way to Earth. Valkor has made sure of that. We have to do
something."

"Leyli mentioned the key."

"The key," Nik said, and let his voice trail off. "They'll destroy Earth in search of that damned
key."

"Leyli said you know where to find it."

The muscles in Nik's face became tense. He stared at Marty without uttering a word.

Marty turned away from the penetrating violet eyes. He spotted tiny, golden flowers jutting from
a crack on the ground by his feet. He knelt and caressed the velvety petals. "You say we have to
do something, like I'll be there by your side. I'll be shoved away somewhere in a deep, dark
corner of your mind while you're out playing the ultimate warrior."

"You're a fighter, Marty, I realize that now, but you can't defeat them all on your own. You can't
survive this fall on your own."

Falling through the air… That's right. Tiny bullets had torn their way through his gut and chest,
then he'd fallen off the roof.

He plucked a petal from its stem and inhaled its sweet scent.

"You said that you can defeat them all… back when your good friend tried to drown me."

"I can't do it on my own, either."

Marty rose and looked the warrior in the eye. "So what do we do?"

"We become one. One body… one heart… one soul… one voice." Nik placed both hands on
Marty's shoulders. "Whatever battles we have to face, we face them together."

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Marty thought of his family, his friends, the life that he'd had before another world invaded his
own. Nothing would ever be the same. The future he'd envisioned for himself would never come
to pass.

He was scared to death. For a fleeting moment, he wished for his old life back, but he knew that
was no longer possible. It was time.

He looked into Nik's radiant eyes and smiled. "Let's make it happen," he said, and placed his
palm over the center of Nik's chest. A warm stream of energy entered Marty and spread
throughout his body. It warmed and cooled him at the same time. He looked up at the violet sky,
ready for whatever was to come next.

***

Marty found himself freefalling, once again, toward the Americas Bank parking garage.

The intensity of the pain lessened with each microsecond that passed. His broken bones mended.
The bullets lodged in various parts of his body disintegrated, the damage they'd caused
completely erased. Every cell of his human body was now in step with his Provenshian DNA.
Every thought and memory that belonged to Nikolas Drakan was now his. He remembered every
moment of his life on Provenshia, as he did those of Martin Cortez's life on Earth.

The voice in his head was silent as he plunged through the sky, but Marty knew exactly what he
had to do.

He turned his body to face what was coming. Impact with the top level of the parking garage was
seconds away.

He summoned the mysterious gift he'd uncovered as a Provenshian child that permitted him
command of the atomic particles within the air around any solid object.

A protective sphere of invisible energy surrounded him. Marty placed his hands in front of him,
whispered a prayer, and braced himself.

With a swish of displaced air, he came to a stop an inch from the center of the concrete rooftop.

Holy shit! That actually worked.

Marty, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration, marveled at his suspension in
midair. He appeared as if he was about to do a round of push-ups.

Fucking awesome! Maybe I can fly, too.

His amazement vanished as soon as his hypersensitive hearing detected the tap-tap-knock of
several Valkorian hearts.

Eye of the Warrior - 136

137

Still in midair, he looked up. Antonio and the two joggers stood a few yards away in front of
him. They stared at him. Additional footsteps and the amplification of the tap-tap-knock alerted
Marty to the fact that the Valkorians were now all around him. Two yards to his right he saw
Carrie poised and ready to attack. He turned left and about the same distance away was one of
the police officers that shot him. He estimated another three were waiting behind him.

Marty released his control over the sphere of energy and dropped. He took a centering breath,
preparing for battle. Even through the pollutants, the air smelled sweet. It was as if he was
inhaling it for the first time in his life. He sensed each particle of oxygen as it flowed to his
lungs. It felt good to be alive and free. He was no longer the old Marty or the old Nik. There was
something new and different stirring inside him. He liked the feeling.

Marty sprang to his feet and released his daggers. It was time to lay these bastards to rest.

Leyli landed with the grace of an agile feline to his left.

He looked into her tearstained face and smiled. "I guess their national motto is never say die.
Four for you, and four for me?"

Leyli smiled and nodded. "Feels like old times," she said, letting her daggers emerge. She
glanced at the three Valkorians approaching Marty from behind.

When she turned back to him, Marty sent her a knowing wink and said, "I don't think they ever
taught us how to kill something that never dies at the academy, Major Zorhan."

The eight Valkorians now closing in on them released sharp, narrow, metallic blades from their
wrists.

"This should make things interesting," Leyli quipped as they stood back to back.

A flash of yellow light brought the ninth Valkorian to the garage rooftop. The others stopped
their advance.

Barak, making his return as Bill Evans, stood between Antonio and the female jogger. "You both
thought you were so special," he said, then morphed and released his daggers. "You're probably
wondering how much Valkorian DNA is coursing through you right now."

Marty's stomach churned at the thought. "Not enough to keep me from shredding you into so
many pieces they'll forget about putting you back together again." He pushed Barak's daggers
downward with his own and kicked Barak in the face.

Barak stumbled backward into Antonio.

The two joggers charged at him.

Eye of the Warrior - 137

138

Marty sensed the shifting of the atomic particles in the air to his right. The dark silhouette of a
man began taking shape. In an instant, the shadow became whole, as Markus faded in. He looked
as if he had escaped a burning building, with singed clothing and smoking hair. He tackled both
joggers.

Antonio charged past Barak like a rabid dog. Nik sliced Antonio’s hands off at the wrist, then
lopped the head off. He picked up what remained of Antonio and threw it at Barak.

He turned to see Leyli blast two of the four she battled with electric blue fireballs, as Luka
rushed through the doorway.

A sharp, stabbing pain in the base of his brain told him to turn around.

Carrie's right dagger was an inch away from his forehead. He retracted his daggers and caught
her wrist with his right hand. She wasted no time and attacked with her left. Its tip sliced through
his cheek before he grabbed hold of her.

Holding her wrists tightly against her chest as she struggled, Marty stared into the vacant, frosted
eyes of the Valkorian impersonating the administrative assistant. Where was the real Carrie?
Was she still alive? Was there a way to save her? Was there a way to save any of them?

Her famous smile, now a terrifying steel grin, appeared. "No need to wonder," she chortled,
"'Cause Carrie doesn't live here anymore." She laughed and then shoved her knee into his groin.

Marty's knees buckled as a jolt of pain ripped through him. Her laughter cut like a razor into his
eardrums. Without another thought, he raised her hands to her throat and sliced her head off with
her own blades. The chalky ooze spewed into the air.

Through the milky mist, Marty saw Barak's raised daggers coming down on him. Determined to
finish this, Marty blocked the Valkorian hunter's daggers, delivered a punch to his face, and a
flying kick to his chest.

Barak stumbled back a yard. He regained his footing and eyed Marty, then sniffed the air. A
violent growl rose from his throat. He took a step forward. "I should have killed you when I had
the chance, Martin Cortez."

"Yeah, you should have. Now die, you motherfucker," Marty said, and released a basketball-
sized sphere of green light energy from his chest.

It hurtled through the air and struck the Valkorian hunter in the chest. The ball spun clockwise,
ripping Barak to shreds from the inside out. His shrill screams tore through the night sky as the
light expanded and engulfed him.

The ball of energy faded, leaving only a pile of gray dust.

Another flash of light brought Antonio back. He stood at arm's length away.

Eye of the Warrior - 138

139

Marty blocked Antonio’s blows, but the blast of energy he'd used against Barak had weakened
him. He didn't have the strength for another, and he was not sure he wanted to use it against
Antonio. Like Carrie, maybe some part of the human that was Antonio was still there waiting to
be saved.

As he continued to fight, Marty looked around. To his right, Markus still fought off the joggers.
To his left, Luka and Leyli were now dealing with three apiece.

More? How many of these damned things can there be?

He glanced over at the pile of dust that had been Barak. It had to be the only way to destroy
them.

"Hit them with as much energy as you can!" he shouted as he blocked the sudden and brutal
onslaught of blows. Just as he thought Antonio had run out of steam, blades came at him with
lightning speed, slicing into his upper arms, outer thighs, and forearms. Another flash of amber
light and the burning tingle at the base of his brain told him danger was just behind him. Waves
of burning pain covered Marty's body as blood spewed from his fresh wounds. A volcanic rush
of anger blinded and energized him. He thrust a dagger into Antonio's throat, then turned, ready
to slice through the next Valkorian, but saw there was no need. Konnor stood before a once again
decapitated Carrie with fresh Valkorian blood on his blades.

He froze. It was as if both Major Gabriel Konnor's daggers had simultaneously pierced his heart.

He was back on Provenshia, in Konnor’s loving arms while the waters of the Adarian Sea lapped
at their feet. His smile… his laughter… His embrace was warm and safe, a shelter from the
battles and the despair. It all came back to Marty. Why did the bastard have to pick that same
spot to betray him?

A telepathic whisper went from Konnor to Marty. I'm sorry.

Gaspar's dying face came to Marty. He had to respond. Was Kapria worth the life of an innocent
man?

I have many regrets.

Marty swallowed the lump in his throat and retracted his daggers for fear of using them. "I
suppose we all do. Am I supposed to thank you for saving me now?"

Konnor shook his head. "I didn't expect you to."

As much as he willed himself to, Marty could not turn away from the green and violet eyes. The
tremendous ache in his heart let him know that somewhere deep inside there remained a place for
Major Gabriel Konnor.

Eye of the Warrior - 139

140

"Well done, my soldiers," a familiar Valkorian voice said.

Marty turned to see the Valkorian ambassador beside Barak's ashes. He stared into Malakor's
frosted eyes with a desperate need to skewer the politician.

"We must move on," Malakor announced to his fighters.

The Valkorians, standing and dismembered, vanished in several flashes of light. Malakor
remained.

Marty took a step toward him. "A true displeasure to see you again, Ambassador Malakor."

Malakor laughed. The cackle trailed off into a hideous purr. "That's Minister of Defense, and it is
indeed a pleasure to meet the great Provenshian warriors, or should I say it’s a pleasure to meet
their second-rate Earthling replicas."

Marty released and raised his daggers. "Would you care to sample the edge of my blade,
Malakor? I'm sure it cuts just as deep."

Malakor delivered a wicked smile. "I see the temperament is a perfect match. We'll meet again,
and maybe you'll get your chance. Until then, be certain you and your band of merry warriors
practice the art of kneeling, because that's exactly what you will need to do to beg for your
pathetic lives."

Marty raced toward him.

Malakor laughed and shook his head.

Marty's blades reached within an inch of his throat, but the Valkorian Minister of Defense and
the pile of dust beside him vanished in a burst of light.

Eye of the Warrior - 140

141

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

"They're moving on to their next objective," Leyli said.

Marty turned to her. "Which is?"

"Claiming Earth." She withdrew her weapons and tied back her hair. "We have to find the key of
Adaria. Using it may be our only way of stopping them."

"Using it, Major Zorhan?" Luka interrupted. "We have to destroy it. That way no one can use the
power it unleashes to rule absolutely."

Marty's eyes went from Luka to Leyli. They stared at one another as if they were continuing the
conversation telepathically. He remembered what Leyli had told him just before the Valkorians
attacked on the bank's helipad. Adaria herself had appeared before them. If they were here on
some holy mission, why did they not agree on what to do with the key?

When his eyes came back to Luka, he could not help recalling his last moments on Provenshia.
Excruciating pain seized him. His blades ready, the poison coursing through his system, and
Luka standing before him prepared for battle. Then he remembered the whispers they'd
exchanged in the dark on so many nights before that. The unbearable ache in his heart caused
him to turn away.

"You sure know how to pick them," Marty whispered, before turning his attention back to the
warriors.

"Destroy it?" Konnor stepped between Leyli and Luka with his daggers drawn and pointed at
Luka. "You'll put it into Kailosian hands as soon as you have the chance, won't you?"

Luka released his daggers and moved toward Konnor. "I've been waiting quite some time for
this, Major Konnor."

"Enough!" Marty shouted as he came between the two majors.

Luka stopped in his tracks.

"You each came here with a specific mission," Marty began. "The only one whose motives were
clear to me was Markus. He wanted me dead." His eyes met Markus. "Isn't that right, old
friend?"

Eye of the Warrior - 141

142

"Still do," Markus replied with raised daggers.

Marty gritted his teeth and raised his own daggers, then let them retract. He exchanged glances
with Konnor and Luka. A list of past and present betrayals assaulted his mind. The muscles in
his stomach and back tightened. "Was seduction your mission, or was that just a means to an
end?" Acid rose from his stomach. "Rub Marty in the right spot and expect Nik to pop out and
declare his undying love and loyalty?"

Neither said a word.

He returned to Leyli. "I have no idea where the precious key to the ultimate power of the
universe is. Tell your superiors, whoever they might be, that your mission to acquire exclusive
rights to this divining rod is over. You've all failed."

Had she also betrayed him? The eyes of his dearest friend told him no, but he knew there was
something more. Something she wasn't willing to share.

The sudden roar of a car's engine filled the air as it pulled onto the top level of the parking
garage and sped toward them.

They faced the bright headlights of the black Mercedes with their weapons drawn. The lights
dimmed as it came to a stop less than a yard away.

Marty took several steps forward, but stopped when the door on the driver's side opened. He
immediately recognized the teal stilettos and the thick, black curls of the woman making her way
out.

"Zelma?" he mumbled. The memories of Marty Cortez dominated his mind. What was Dr.
Vassir's office manager doing here? And why were her eyes, both of them, a vibrant violet?

"I'm glad to see that you've finally joined us, Major Drakan," Zelma said.

Memories of his Provenshian life now trickled through. It took only a moment to remember Dr.
Zelma Ackukhat, former Governor of Lydia and head of the United Council of Republics.

Dr. Vassir exited from the passenger side, her violet eyes no longer concealed.

Marty turned his attention to her as she came around to the front of the car.

"I should have known," he whispered as he recalled the needle descending into his eye.

"Of course, the Kailosian senator," Konnor said, raising his daggers.

Luka raised his in response.

The rear door on the driver side opened, revealing the always-dapper CIO, Aidan Bacchus.

Eye of the Warrior - 142

143

"Is this the political version of a clown car?" Marty joked. "Are any more of you gonna pop out
of there?"

A stunned silence hovered in the air around them, until Marty clapped his daggers together.

"Thank our Creator. I think they've finally got it," he said. "We had an interesting chat with a
good friend of yours, Minister of Defense Malakor… He sends his regards." He cast a knowing
glance at Dr. Vassir and General Bacchus. "Now you both can probably tell us how it feels to
have a sharp Valkorian dagger plunged into your backs. Not very comfortable, is it?"

Dr. Vassir came closer, with her eyes fixed on him. "Gloating is very unbecoming a Provenshian
officer, Major Drakan," she said in a frosty tone. "And, no, it is not a comfortable feeling."

"You can still call me Marty, Doc. Nik and I have reached an understanding. We've sort of
joined forces… become one. I know everything he knows… everything." Marty held the doctor's
gaze, as another chilling silence settled in.

"The republics of Enos and Kailos have negotiated a temporary ceasefire," the general
announced. His disdain for the agreement was palpable. "They've also formed an alliance and
declared war on the Valkorian Empire. As defenders of the republics you will all band together
to defend Earth against the Valkorian threat."

Zelma sent the general a quick and cutting glance. "The Lydians have also joined the alliance.
Valkor has given us no choice in the matter."

"The five of us," Marty interjected, and added a hearty laugh. "Against an army of beings that we
may not be able to kill? Have the newly formed heads of this alliance gone mad?"

"They must have if they think I'll fight alongside you," Markus muttered.

"How long have you known about this?" Luka asked Dr. Vassir.

"A communication from Provenshia was received only minutes ago. Valkor has taken Kapria
and an armada of Valkorian battleships is seventy-two hours away from Earth's atmosphere.
Neither Enosian nor Kailosian forces can get close enough to the wormhole to send
reinforcements. Well-placed sources…"

"Spies," Marty interrupted.

Dr. Vassir cleared her throat. "Sources… indicate that the battleships will uncloak and enter
Earth's atmosphere once they are given the signal from the ground units preparing for the
invasion. So far, the plan is to destroy everything in their path that's of no use to Valkor."

The general looked at his watch, then cut the senator off. "We're losing precious time. Your
mission is to find and destroy the Valkorian cells before they can complete their preparations."

Eye of the Warrior - 143

144

"In seventy-two hours?" Leyli balked at the impossible timeline.

Marty looked up into the night sky. "We don't have a choice, do we."

"Do nothing and they'll destroy Earth," Leyli whispered. "I guess we don't have a choice."

"So you pledge your allegiance?" Bacchus asked.

"I pledge my allegiance to no one," Marty fired back, and raised his dagger to the general.

Zelma raised her hand, getting his attention. "The fate of Earth and Provenshia lie in your hands.
It lies in all of your hands."

Marty retracted his dagger. He knew she spoke the truth. There was only one clear choice. "I will
fight to protect the Earth from any alien aggressor." He immediately felt the eyes of both General
Bacchus and Dr. Vassir cut into him.

"And the rest of you?" Bacchus asked.

Marty flicked a glance over his shoulder to see Leyli and Konnor nod in agreement.

Luka, on the other hand, met the General's icy stare with one of his own. Through clenched teeth
he responded, "And fight alongside an Enosian butcher…"

"Major Cordova." Dr. Vassir cut him off with her cool gaze and calm voice.

His eyes softened and his teeth unclenched. "I would be honored," he concluded.

Marty found the turnabout peculiar, until their eyes met and he was able to capture a passing
thought.

Yes, it will be an honor to make his death a slow and painful one.

"Well, isn't this special," Markus spoke up. "One for all and all for one… This is all one big
joke."

Marty turned to Markus. "No one's laughing. Try asking the Earthling inside of you if he would
like to see the complete annihilation of his family."

Markus narrowed his eyes. "I will protect Earth, and when we're done you will feel the wrath of
my blades."

Marty accepted his pledge and his challenge with a curt nod. He turned to Bacchus. "There you
have it; we will fight for Earth."

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145

With one blink, the general's violet eyes transformed, returning to their cold, metallic blue. A
tiny smile invaded his tense face. "At sunrise, our sources will have additional information that
will be helpful to your mission." He pulled his ringing cell phone from his inner jacket pocket.
"We will be in touch."

"The inhabitants of this planet are very resourceful," Zelma said to the warriors. "Their history
has proven that. I'm sure a select few can become valuable allies. May the Creator be with all of
you," she added as she opened the driver's side door of the Mercedes.

It was a blessing Marty was sure they would need.

Bacchus put his phone away and opened the rear passenger door. "I suggest you all clear out of
here as quickly as possible. Security is holding off the local authorities until the mess is cleaned
up."

Marty stared into Dr. Vassir's eyes as they morphed into black opals. He wanted to know what
the good doctor was thinking. Her cool eyes and stoic expression concealed the truth, as usual.
They barred him from penetrating her mind.

There was more to this political ménage a trois than any of them would admit to. Who was using
whom? And, the greater question, why?

Since he could not invade her mind, Marty sent a message of his own.

We'll be ready, doctor. You can count on that.

***

A polite smile found its way onto the doctor's lips. Her mind worked overtime to keep all
intruders out. Valkor had given them no choice now. The republic's plan to harness the ultimate
power would have to wait. She slipped into the passenger seat, and as the car's engine revved she
wondered if these hybrid warriors would be the saviors of the universe or the harbingers of its
annihilation. Only time would tell. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard -- seventy-one and
half hours to be exact.

***

The glare of the headlights pulling away stung his eyes. Marty looked up at the sky. Would he
ever see Provenshia again? It was too far for him to imagine he would. He looked down at his
hands. They were bloodied, but healing again.

Memories of his lives as Nik Drakan and Martin Cortez whirled inside his head like a tumultuous
sea. Their hopes, dreams, fears, likes, dislikes, and most desperate desires were all his. He was as
much Martin Cortez as he was Nik Drakan. It was an odd feeling. The power was building
within him. It frightened and excited him at the same time. He'd never felt more free or alive.

Eye of the Warrior - 145

146

He turned his gaze to the city's skyline and went to the edge of the parking garage. He wanted to
reach for a phone to call his Earth parents and make sure they were safe.

His thoughts drifted beyond this world. What had become of his Provenshian parents, and
Provenshia herself?

The strangeness of all the emotions, memories, and unanswered questions rolling around in his
head made him lightheaded. He pushed them all from his mind to concentrate on the present.

Cars lined the streets below. People walked along the sidewalks. The city was coming to life on a
warm and festive night. Without using his acute senses, he listened to the laughter below.

He turned to see the others dispersed, each standing in their own corner. Markus stared at the
purple star, revenge still driving him. Leyli looked straight ahead with focus and purpose.
Konnor and Luka occasionally stole a glance his way.

Konnor… Luka… They wanted more than just the key, and his loyalty. They wanted his
forgiveness and his love. He sensed it in their beating hearts. He loved them both, but he was not
ready to forgive either of them yet.

Would they, the five great Provenshian warriors, be able to defeat Valkor, before tearing each
other apart?

He turned back to the view of the city and filled his lungs with air. His insides tingled. Wounds
were mending and his strength returning.

He heard the faint beating of a Valkorian heart somewhere in the crowded street below. The
battle for Earth was about to begin.

A stinging pain in his brain announced the arrival of a fresh memory. Marty shielded his mind
from any potential probes as it surfaced. The key did exist. Leyli was right. They would need it,
and he knew exactly where to find it.

The pain subsided. It would not be an easy task, but he always loved a challenge, and the
universe was counting on them.

"We won't let you down," he said as he looked straight ahead into the night.

THE END

Eye of the Warrior - 146

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