I arrived at Darian's building five minutes early, a deliberate choice. The last time I'd entered this place, I'd left with an invisible tether connecting me to a man I barely understood. The anchor link hummed between us—stretched thin by distance but unmistakably present, like the lingering vibration of a struck bell.
Seven hours and fifty-five minutes of waiting for answers. Seven hours and fifty-five minutes of running scenarios through my head, each more fucked up than the last. My fingers traced the ridge of scar tissue along my forearm, grounding myself in the physical sensation.
The doorman nodded in recognition as I approached. "Ms. Voss. Mr. Hayes is expecting you."
Of course he was. He'd probably felt my approach through our connection, my emotional frequency growing stronger with proximity.
The elevator ride was seventeen floors of mounting tension. With each floor, the static of Darian's presence intensified. By the time the doors slid open to his penthouse, the anchor between us vibrated with a bone-deep resonance that made my teeth ache.
He stood waiting, whiskey glass in hand, amber eyes tracking my movements as I stepped into his space. The static wall surrounding him had thinned, either from our established connection or deliberate choice—hard to tell which.
"You're early." His voice betrayed nothing, but through our anchor, I caught the ripple of something like relief.
"You said eight o'clock. It's eight." I moved past him into the living room, deliberately keeping distance between us. The anchor connection heightened with proximity, and I needed clarity, not the intoxicating rush of our frequencies syncing.
"Drink?" he offered, already moving to pour one.
"No. Answers."
Darian paused, then set the bottle down. Through our connection, I felt his calculation—weighing how much to reveal, how to frame it, what to hold back.
"Don't." The word cut through the room. "I can feel you strategizing. No more tactical omissions, remember?"
A flicker of something—amusement? respect?—rippled through our link before he nodded once. "You're right. Where would you like to begin?"
"Why me?" I moved to the window, keeping my back to him as I stared out at the city lights. "Out of every empath you could have found, why specifically recruit me for this job?"
Silence stretched between us, broken only by the sound of him setting down his glass. The anchor connection hummed with tension, with reluctance so thick it tasted metallic.
"Because you're naturally resistant to Subject Three's influence," he finally said. "Because you process emotional frequencies as sound rather than visual input. Because your ability is a precise mirror to Subject Five's."
I turned slowly. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Subject Five—" Darian hesitated, and I felt the moment he committed to honesty through our connection, like tectonic plates shifting. "Subject Five could amplify emotional states the way you can detect them. Where you hear frequencies, he could intensify them. Create resonance effects."
"You're saying I'm like him." The words felt strange on my tongue, connecting me to someone I'd never met.
"Not like him. His complement." Darian's eyes darkened as he approached, stopping just outside my personal space. "The program theorized that certain empathic abilities exist on opposite ends of a spectrum. Detectors and projectors. Amplifiers and dampeners."
"And which is Lilith?"
"A projector. She manufactures emotional frequencies and broadcasts them." His jaw tightened. "It's why she and Five were such a dangerous combination. She could create an emotion; he could amplify it beyond control."
The implications spun through my mind. "And me? I'm a detector, obviously. But what's my complement?"
Through our anchor, I felt his hesitation return, heavier this time.
"Darian." I closed the distance between us, forcing him to look me in the eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I am." His voice dropped lower, the static barrier around him thinning further. "I'm your complement. A dampener."
The revelation hit like a physical blow. My ears rang with the sudden shift in our connection—clarity where there had been static, understanding where there had been questions.
"The static—" I whispered.
"Is how I dampen emotional frequencies. Block them from being detected or amplified." His eyes never left mine. "It's not just a defense mechanism. It's the external manifestation of my ability."
Fuck. I stepped back, needing distance to process this. "So ECHO-7 paired people with complementary abilities. Lilith with Subject Five. And now..."
"You with me." He finished the thought, his frequency rippling with something too complex to name. "Yes."
"That's why we can create an anchor connection so easily." The pieces were falling into place—the immediate resonance between us, the way our abilities seemed to mesh rather than clash. "That's why it's stronger than what Lilith had with Five."
Darian's eyebrow raised fractionally. "What makes you think it's stronger?"
"Because she's threatened by it." I moved to the couch, needing to sit as the implications washed over me. "She wouldn't have tried to infiltrate our connection if it wasn't a threat to her."
He followed, maintaining distance as he sat across from me. "Perceptive."
"It's literally my job to be perceptive," I snapped. "So this whole thing—Chen's company, the merger—it's all what, a coincidence? Or were you looking for a reason to find me?"
The anchor between us vibrated with tension as Darian weighed his response. "Both. Chen approached my security firm about protection during the merger negotiations. When I learned Lilith Everett was involved, I recognized an opportunity."
"To find your complement." The words tasted bitter. "You used Chen's situation to manipulate me into working with you."
"I presented an opportunity that aligned with your abilities." His static barrier rippled, thinning further. "But yes, I sought you out specifically."
"How long have you known about me?"
Another hesitation, another shift in his static frequency.
"How. Long." I pressed.
"Three years."
The betrayal stung sharper than I'd expected. "Three fucking years? You've been monitoring me for three years without my knowledge?"
"Not monitoring. Aware of." He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "When Subject Five disappeared with Lilith, the program started identifying potential complements in case he resurfaced. Your name was on a list of thirty-seven people with compatible neurological patterns."
"And what narrowed it down to me?" My voice had gone dangerously quiet.
Darian's eyes met mine, and through our anchor, I felt the moment he abandoned caution. "Your ability manifested at Resonance."
The nightclub. My nightclub. Where I'd carefully cultivated a reputation for knowing exactly what patrons wanted, for creating experiences that matched their emotional states with terrifying precision.
"You've been watching me at the club." It wasn't a question.
"Twice. To confirm the pattern match."
My fingers found the scar tissue on my arm again, pressing hard enough to hurt. "And what? You were just waiting for an excuse to approach me?"
"I was waiting until it was necessary." His voice remained steady, but the static around him fluctuated. "When Lilith reappeared, working with Helix on the merger negotiations, it became necessary."
"Because you think Subject Five is involved." The pieces locked into place with terrible clarity. "You think he's behind her sudden reappearance after all these years."
Darian didn't answer immediately, but I felt his confirmation through our connection—a resonant hum of affirmation.
"Your meeting today," I pressed. "It was with your client. Did they confirm it?"
"Not definitively." He stood, moving to the window. "But there are patterns emerging. Frequency signatures at three Helix facilities that match his profile."
"You're tracking him through emotional frequencies?" I couldn't hide my disbelief. "How is that even possible?"
"Not emotional frequencies. Resonance patterns." He turned back to me. "Subject Five's ability creates distinct energy signatures when activated. We've detected similar patterns at locations where Lilith has recently visited."
The implications sent a chill through me. "You think they're working together again."
"I think they never stopped." The static around him thinned completely as he approached, revealing an intensity I'd only glimpsed before. "And I think you're the key to understanding why they've resurfaced now."
"Me? Why would they care about me?" But even as I asked, understanding dawned. "Because I'm your complement. Because together we could counter whatever they're planning."
Darian nodded once. "That's the working theory."
"So I'm what—bait? A counter-weapon you're developing against them?" My voice rose with each question. "Is that what this fucking anchor connection is about? Weaponizing our complementary abilities?"
"It's about protection." He closed the distance between us, the absence of static both disorienting and intoxicating. "Yours and mine. The anchor connection is the only defense we have against what they can do together."
"What exactly can they do together that has you so worried?" I demanded.
Something dark flickered across his expression. "Have you heard about the incident at GeneCore Laboratories last month? Twenty-seven researchers simultaneously experienced catastrophic psychological breaks. Three suicides, twelve cases of violent psychosis?"
"That was them?" Horror washed through me.
"We believe so." His voice had gone clinical, but through our connection, I felt the controlled fear beneath. "A synchronized emotional attack, amplified beyond normal parameters. The frequency signature matches what we've seen before with Subject Five."
"Jesus Christ." I sank back onto the couch. "And what, now they're after neural interface technology? Why?"
"Direct access to emotional centers of the brain." Darian remained standing, his presence looming. "Combined with their abilities, it would allow for remote manipulation on an unprecedented scale."
The pieces aligned with sickening clarity. Chen's technology. The merger negotiations. Lilith's interest in the neural interface.
"And me? Where do I fit in this clusterfuck?" I looked up at him, demanding truth.
"You're the counterbalance." Darian's voice softened fractionally. "Your ability to detect emotional frequencies combined with my ability to dampen them creates a defensive shield. The anchor connection between us magnifies that protection."
"That's why Lilith tried to infiltrate it." I wasn't asking anymore, just connecting the fragments into a coherent picture. "She was testing our defenses."
"Yes." He sat beside me now, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, the anchor between us humming with shared understanding. "And she'll try again. More directly next time."
The weight of it all pressed down on me—the revelation of my role in this operation, the danger Lilith and Subject Five represented, the realization that Darian had been tracking me for years, waiting for this moment.
"Why didn't you just tell me this from the beginning?" The question emerged softer than I'd intended, weighted with something like hurt.
Through our connection, I felt his regret—surprising in its genuineness. "Would you have believed me? A stranger approaching you with claims about military empaths and psychological warfare?"
"Probably not," I admitted. "But you could have tried honesty after I signed on."
"I could have." His admission surprised me. "I made a tactical decision that proved incorrect."
A grudging laugh escaped me. "That might be the most honest thing you've said to me."
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "I'm attempting to correct course."
We sat in silence for a moment, the anchor between us settling into a steady rhythm—neither intrusive nor distant, just present.
"So what now?" I finally asked. "What's the next move in this fucked-up chess game?"
"We strengthen our connection." His eyes met mine, unflinching. "If they're planning what I suspect, our anchor is the only defense that stands a chance of countering it."
The implication hung between us. Strengthening our connection meant more intimacy, more vulnerability, more of what had happened in this very apartment just yesterday.
"And if I refuse?" The question wasn't a rejection, just a test of boundaries.
"Then I continue alone, with significantly reduced chances of success." No manipulation, no coercion—just stark honesty. "And you return to your life until they decide you're too dangerous to ignore."
"Because of what I can do when paired with you."
"Yes." His gaze remained steady. "They won't leave a potential weapon against them unaddressed."
Fear coursed through me, ice-cold and clarifying. "So my options are help you or eventually face them alone."
"That's an accurate assessment." No sugarcoating, no false reassurances.
I stood, needing to move, to think. "You're asking me to dive deeper into something I barely understand, with someone who's been manipulating me from the start."
"I'm asking you to partner with someone whose abilities complement your own against a threat neither of us can face alone." Darian rose as well, maintaining the distance I'd created. "And I'm offering complete transparency moving forward."
"Transparency." I turned to face him. "Prove it. Tell me something classified, something you're not supposed to share. Something that puts you at risk rather than me for once."
The request hung between us, a test he couldn't strategize around. Through our connection, I felt his internal debate, weighing consequences against the need to establish trust.
Finally, he spoke. "Subject Five's name is Marcus Reeves. He was a combat medic before ECHO-7 recruited him. His empathic abilities manifested after a traumatic brain injury in Afghanistan." Darian's eyes never left mine. "And he's my half-brother."
The revelation hit like a physical blow. "Your brother?"
"Half-brother. Same father, different mothers." His frequency shifted through our connection—discomfort, resignation, determination. "It's why I was brought into the program. They thought our genetic connection might enhance compatibility studies."
"Did it?" I couldn't help asking.
"No. Our abilities proved to be antagonistic rather than complementary." His expression darkened. "I couldn't dampen his amplification. He couldn't amplify my dampening. We created interference patterns that neutralized both abilities."
The implications spun through my mind. "That's why you're so certain he's involved. It's not just professional—it's personal."
"Yes." The admission seemed to cost him. "When he escaped with Lilith, he left me behind. Chose her over family."
The raw hurt beneath his controlled exterior rippled through our connection before he could suppress it.
"That's why you've been searching for him," I realized. "Not just because he's dangerous, but because he's family."
Darian's jaw tightened. "My motivations are irrelevant to the current situation."
"Bullshit." I stepped closer, the anchor between us intensifying with proximity. "Your motivations are exactly what's been missing from this equation. The reason I couldn't trust you was because you presented yourself as some perfect tactical machine with no personal stake."
"And now?" His voice remained steady, but through our connection, I felt his uncertainty—an unfamiliar frequency from him.
"Now I'm still pissed that you manipulated me," I admitted. "But at least I understand why."
Something shifted in his eyes, amber warming to gold in the apartment's dim light. "Understanding is a start."
"It's not acceptance." I held his gaze. "But it's enough to move forward with this... partnership. For now."
Relief whispered through our connection, quickly controlled but unmistakable. "Thank you."
I shook my head. "Don't thank me yet. We still have a serious problem to solve. How exactly do we strengthen this connection enough to counter whatever Lilith and your brother are planning?"
Darian hesitated, and I felt the shift in his frequency—calculation giving way to something more primal. "The most effective method would be to repeat what created it initially. With greater intensity."
Heat rushed through me at the memory—his body against mine, the static barrier dissolving, the moment our frequencies had synced into something new and powerful.
"You mean sex." I kept my voice deliberately flat.
"Physical intimacy creates the strongest anchor connections." His clinical tone couldn't hide the current of desire pulsing through our link. "The more intense the physical experience, the stronger the psychic bond."
"How convenient for you." I couldn't resist the jab.
A flash of genuine amusement rippled through our connection. "I assure you, entangling my consciousness with someone who can detect my every emotional fluctuation is far from convenient."
Despite everything, a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. "Fair point."
The moment stretched between us, weighted with possibility. Through our anchor, I sensed his desire—not just physical want, but a deeper hunger for connection, for the dissolution of barriers he'd maintained for over a decade.
"There are other methods," he offered, surprising me. "Less effective, but still viable. Meditation techniques, synchronized breathing, sustained physical contact without sexual component."
The fact that he offered alternatives when he clearly wanted more caught me off guard. It was the first truly selfless thing he'd done since we'd met.
"I'll consider the options." I stepped back, creating breathing room between us. "But first, I need more information about what we're up against. Tell me everything you know about what Lilith and Marcus are planning. No strategic omissions."
Darian nodded once, moving toward a sleek console against the wall. He pressed his palm to a hidden panel, and a holographic display illuminated the space between us.
"These are the locations where we've detected Subject Five's frequency signature over the past eight months." Red dots appeared across a global map, clustering in certain regions. "And these—" blue dots joined them, "—are Lilith's confirmed appearances in the same timeframe."
The pattern was unmistakable—they were moving in tandem, separated by days rather than appearing simultaneously.
"They're never in the same place at the same time," I observed.
"No. We believe they're maintaining operational separation for security." Darian expanded one cluster of dots centered over Europe. "But their activities follow a consistent pattern. Lilith makes corporate or scientific contacts. Days later, Marcus's signature appears at research facilities or data centers connected to those contacts."
"The anchor connection between them allows coordination without physical proximity," I realized. "They're tag-teaming targets."
"Exactly." Darian's approval rippled through our link. "And based on the facilities they've targeted, we believe they're gathering components for a large-scale neural interface system."
"Like what Chen is developing?"
"More advanced." He pulled up technical specifications I couldn't begin to understand. "Chen's technology is the missing piece they need. The stability algorithm that prevents neural rejection."
The implication chilled me. "Without it, the interface kills the user."
"Yes. As it did in Helsinki." His expression darkened. "We believe they've been working toward this for years, acquiring pieces of the technology they need. The merger negotiations are their opportunity to access the final component."
"But why?" I struggled to understand the endgame. "What could they possibly gain from this?"
Darian's frequency shifted through our connection—grim determination overlaid with something like fear. "Control. With a functioning neural interface network and their combined abilities, they could theoretically influence emotional states across an entire population. Create mass panic, euphoria, rage, compliance—whatever served their purpose."
"Jesus Christ." The scale of the threat staggered me. "That's not just dangerous. That's fucking apocalyptic."
"Now you understand why finding you became necessary." His eyes met mine. "Your ability to detect emotional frequencies at great distances, combined with my ability to dampen them, creates the only effective counter to their capabilities."
The weight of responsibility settled over me, heavy and unwelcome. "So that's it? We're the last line of defense against mind control armageddon?"
"We're the most viable defense," he corrected. "Not the only one. But potentially the most effective."
I moved back to the window, staring out at the city lights while processing everything he'd revealed. The truth was more terrifying than anything I'd imagined during those eight hours of waiting.
"The next meeting with Lilith," I said finally. "When is it?"
"Three days from now. Final negotiation session before the merger documents are drafted."
I turned back to face him. "And you think they'll make their move then?"
"It's the most logical opportunity." He shut down the holographic display with a gesture. "If they're going to attempt to manipulate the negotiations to gain access to Chen's technology, that's when it will happen."
Decision crystallized within me, clear and sharp as broken glass. "Then we have three days to strengthen this connection enough to counter whatever they throw at us."
Through our anchor, I felt his surprise at my certainty, quickly replaced by determination. "Yes."
"And you believe the most effective method is...physical intimacy." I kept my voice neutral, despite the heat simmering beneath the surface of our connection.
"All evidence suggests it creates the strongest bond, yes." His clinical tone couldn't hide the desire pulsing between us.
I crossed the distance between us slowly, deliberately. "Then let's be efficient about this."
His eyebrow raised fractionally. "Efficient?"
"Yes." I stopped just beyond touching distance. "No more games, no more manipulation. We do what's necessary to create the strongest possible defense against them. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Understood." Something like disappointment flickered through our connection before he controlled it.
I reached out, fingers brushing his wrist—skin to skin. The anchor between us flared instantly, brightening from steady hum to electric current.
"But Darian?" I held his gaze as our frequencies began to sync. "If you ever withhold critical information from me again, I'll walk away and take my chances alone. Are we clear?"
His fingers closed around mine, the contact sending shockwaves through our connection. "Crystal."
The last of his static barrier dissolved beneath my touch, leaving nothing between us but raw, unfiltered truth. For the first time since we'd met, I could hear every nuance of his emotional frequency without interference—determination and desire, calculation and care, all layered in complex harmony.
And beneath it all, something unexpected—a single, pure note of relief at finally being heard without static distortion.
"Then let's get started." I stepped into his space, closing the final distance between us. "We have work to do."
His hand came up to cradle my face, thumb tracing my lower lip in a gesture too tender for our tactical arrangement. Through our connection, I felt his control slipping, revealing the man beneath the operative—complicated and contradictory and far more human than I'd believed possible.
"Emira," he whispered, my name becoming a frequency all its own on his lips.
Then his mouth found mine, and words became irrelevant as our connection exploded into something new and terrifying and necessary—a symphony of complementary frequencies converging into perfect, devastating resonance.