He must have mistaken her silence for acceptance, and he had her in the seat before she could even begin another protest, his hands pressing down on her shoulders when she tried to stand. Letting out a low growl, he motioned for Gibus to hurry up with whatever his part in this was.
“Okay.” Gibus cleared his throat and winced when she shot a glare his way. “I can’t do it with her moving like that.”
“Damn it, Delaney. Stay still.”
“Absolutely not.”
“And just why not?”
She eased her struggles long enough to chuck her chin out toward Gibus’s right arm, which he was not so discreetly holding behind his back. “I totally saw the needle.”
“It’s not a needle,” Gibus corrected her. “More like a tagger. Sort of like they do with dogs on your planet.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Oh, hell no.”
Ruckus shoved her down with a tad more force this time, shooting daggers over at the other Vakar while doing so. Leaning over, he pinned her to the chair by crowding her in, so that she was blocked by his massive form on all three sides. His head lowered, their foreheads almost touching.
“We need to get you fitted…,” he began, rushing on when she would have argued again. “It’s not up for discussion. If we’d done this earlier, I might have been able to get you away from the blast before it went off.”
“I’m fine,” she said, and her struggles had ceased.
“This time.” He clenched his jaw. “What about next time?”
“If we tell on Trystan, there won’t be a next time.”
“Don’t act naive, Delaney; it’s unattractive.”
Before she could get offended, he motioned to Gibus. The large metallic object that was exposed wiped her mind clear of anything other than the threatening tip. It looked sort of like a cross between a stapler and a tattoo gun. There was a sharp blade at the bottom, about a quarter of an inch long, and a small flat square piece directly above it.
“This part makes a thin cut,” Gibus began to explain, bringing it closer to her and pointing to the blade, “and this part deposits the chip.” He tapped the square. “It’ll only sting for a minute, and it takes less than a second. We’ve all done it.”
“Done what, exactly?” She nibbled on her bottom lip, torn between trying to feign toughness and just allowing her fear to show.
“How much do you know about brain waves?”
She frowned, taken aback by the odd question. Here she was, in an alien workshop, surrounded by torn metal parts that smelled like oil and acid, and he was asking her about brains? Though, it did clue her in on where exactly they planned on sticking that thing. Her hand automatically went to the back of her neck.
Gibus smiled approvingly. “Good. See? Not as clueless as you thought. We’ve found a way to tap into brain waves, deciphering and tuning into them sort of like radio frequencies. Connecting certain frequencies allows two parties to communicate with each other through it without having to speak out loud.”
“You’re talking about telepathy.”
“Yes.”
She was in the last of a row of seven chairs. They all looked exactly the same, with a space between the headrest and the actual backing. It left a good foot of empty space where someone from behind could access the person sitting. More aptly, access their neck.
“That’s what you meant, wasn’t it?” She caught Ruckus’s gaze again, putting the pieces together. “When you said I still wasn’t talking to you back on the ship. You thought I was Olena. The two of you”—she motioned toward his head—“can communicate telepathically?”
“Yes,” he said. “Only a select few are allowed to do that with any of the royal family. As the head of the Lissa’s personal guard, being able to connect with her in that way is an immensely important tool.”
“So,” she said, scrambling to follow what he was saying, “I couldn’t talk to everybody mentally? Even if I’m fitted?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, sending some of the long brunette tendrils loose to cascade over the side of his face. His yellow-and-green eyes held her captive, as if hoping that she’d be able to see he was telling her the truth. “Only those who’ve been tuned into your frequency can hear and share thoughts with you. The chip has already been programmed to work with a human brain; we just have to dial my frequency in.”
“You’ll be able to get into my head.” She did not like the sound of that.
“I’m the only one who will be able to,” he assured her. “You need this, Delaney. Today was a close call: Ten more feet, and you would have been dead.”
Somehow she knew what he was really saying, what went unsaid between the lines.
She needed him.
And he wasn’t wrong. Who else did she have here? There were only five people on this entire planet who knew her true identity, and out of them, she’d only had a full conversation with three: Pettus, Gibus, and Ruckus. The first she’d recently tricked, the second was already walking a thin line with the Basileus, and the last …
He might have taken her against her will, but he hadn’t known what he was doing at the time, and ever since he’d discovered his mistake, he’d done nothing but try to keep her safe. Startled, she realized she trusted him. If he said this was something she needed to do, then she’d take his word for it.
“All right.” She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Do it before I come to my senses and change my mind.”
He nodded over to Gibus, and she shook her head quickly.
“No, you do it.” She stretched her fingers around the ends of the armrests and squeezed the soft white material.
Ruckus hesitated but ended up taking the device. Switching places with Gibus, he stepped first to her side and then behind her, out of sight. She felt him brush the strands of her hair out of the way, baring the center of her neck right beneath the base of her skull. His fingers were warm, reassuring when they rubbed to give her an idea of where she’d feel the cold metal a second before she did.
“Ready?” he asked, and at her nod, he pressed the lever on the gun. The blade sliced her skin and something slid beneath it.
She hissed in a breath and cursed, finding it difficult to stay still. Her whole neck burned like it was on fire, and the chip they’d inserted felt like a lump pressing down on her skull despite the fact that it couldn’t be bigger than her pinky nail.
When he was in front of her again, she reached back and pressed her fingers against the cut. The spot was wet with blood. Her hand was brushed aside, and she realized Gibus was the one behind her now, applying a small bandage over the entrance wound.
“Your idea and my idea of sting are very different,” she grumbled. Her fingertips were stained red, and she glowered at them. If she ever got her hands on that stupid alien princess …
“That was nothing,” Ruckus admitted sheepishly. “This next part’s the rough one.”
Strike that: The second her neck stopped burning, she was going after him.
CHAPTER 10