Page 2 of Dark Rebel’s Mystery (The Children Of The Gods #92)

2

SYSSI

S yssi burst into Kian's office, her heart still pounding from that horrible dream that had felt more like a vision. She needed to tell him what she'd seen, but more than that, she needed the comfort of his arms around her and his solid presence to ground her.

He was her rock, and right now, she needed an anchor.

The sight of him at his desk steadied her somewhat, but it wasn't enough to disperse the horror she'd seen, especially since the office was steeped in darkness and Kian's face was illuminated only by the soft glow of his laptop screen.

"Syssi?" He got up and strode toward her. "What's wrong?"

"I had a dream or a vision. I'm not sure what it was, but I saw Kyra again. Or rather, for the first time. She didn't have a scarf on, and I heard her name spoken, so I knew it was her without a doubt."

He wrapped his arm around her and led her to the couch. "What did you see?"

Syssi opened her mouth to speak, but then another vision washed over her, hijacking her mind without warning.

"Syssi?" She heard Kian say her name as if it was coming through a tunnel.

She latched on to the sound like a lifeline, pulling herself out of the vision that was trying to show her what she'd managed to avoid seeing the first time around.

Clutching on to Kian's arm, she forced her eyes to open. "Oh, dear Fates. The poor woman. We have to help her."

"What did you see?" he repeated, sounding alarmed and impatient.

Syssi's throat was so dry that talking was difficult. "I need coffee."

To anyone else, that declaration would have sounded strange in light of the frazzled state she'd arrived in, but her mate knew it was exactly what she needed to calm down.

"Of course." Kian lifted her into his arms and walked with her to the family room.

How did he know that she didn't want to be left alone, even for the few minutes it would take him to prepare the coffee?

Syssi wound her arms around Kian's neck and held on tight. "I can walk, you know."

"I know." He dipped his head and kissed the top of her head. "But I enjoy carrying you and holding you close. Any objections?"

She managed a smile. "None at all."

Once he'd seated her on the couch, he walked over to her cappuccino station. "I've seen you work this machine a thousand times before. I should be able to figure out how to work it."

She chuckled. "It does everything automatically, and it's connected to the water supply, but you need to put in the coffee beans and the milk."

"Got it."

The familiar sounds of grinding and thumping soothed Syssi's frayed nerves, helping her relax enough to organize her thoughts. The image of Kyra chained to that metal bed was burned into her memory—the woman's face so similar to Jasmine's that there had been no mistaking her identity, unless her mind had superimposed Kyra's face on that of a stranger to play tricks on her.

That wasn't likely, though.

After a lifetime of visions, Syssi knew the difference between normal dreams and those that were trying to convey a message, and this one had been loaded with meaning.

The problem was deciphering it. The call for help was obvious, but once again, the clues about how to proceed were missing.

"Here." Kian set the two cappuccinos he'd made on the coffee table and sat beside her. "I hope I didn't mess it up too badly, but it's definitely not up to your standards." He pointed to the frothed milk. "I tried to make a heart, but it didn't come out right."

It was funny how worried he looked, but his concern wasn't entirely unwarranted. Syssi wasn't obsessive about many things, but she was very particular about her coffee and how she liked it.

"I'm sure it's great." She lifted the cup and took a sip. "It's perfect," she said, and it wasn't a lie. It might not have been as aesthetically pleasing as the cups she made, but he'd gotten the taste and temperature perfect, which wasn't easy even with the automation.

She kept the cup cradled between her palms as she folded her legs under her robe to keep them warm.

"That's a relief." Kian pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead. "It means a lot to get a compliment from the master."

She laughed. "You did well, my faithful apprentice."

Smiling, he dipped his head. "Ready to tell me what you saw?"

Syssi nodded. "Kyra was in a cell, and she was chained to a metal bed by her wrists, but not her ankles. Except, she was so heavily drugged that I don't know why they bothered to chain her."

He frowned. "How do you know she was drugged?"

"I'm getting there." Syssi took another sip, hoping the warmth of the coffee would bolster her courage. "At first, when the dream started, I didn't know that she was drugged and assumed she was asleep." Syssi closed her eyes. "She was young, no older than Jasmine is now, and the resemblance between them was striking."

"The vision must have been from the past," Kian said. "Unless..."

She arched a brow. "Unless what?"

"Unless it was just a dream rather than a vision, and your mind put Jasmine in that cell."

Syssi shook her head. "No. It was definitely a vision. It had that quality—that sense of watching something real unfold before my mind's eye." She took a shaky breath. "The differences can be subtle, but I have enough experience with visions to recognize the particular feeling I get when the universe is trying to tell me something."

Kian nodded. "I don't doubt that. What else did you see?"

The coffee suddenly tasted sour in her mouth. "There was..." Syssi swallowed hard. "There was a man." The words felt like broken glass in her throat. "He entered the cell wearing a doctor's coat, but instead of checking on Kyra, he sat on the bed beside her and started touching her inappropriately." Her hands tightened around the coffee cup. "Kyra didn't fight him. That is why I think that she was drugged. She just lay there and let him pull down her pants." She swallowed. "Along with her underwear." Syssi's voice cracked. "I forced myself to wake up when he mounted her. I couldn't watch what happened next."

Kian's expression darkened, but then he attempted a weak smile. "Are you certain it wasn't consensual? Some people enjoy playing kinky games?—"

"Don't." Syssi lifted a hand to stop him. She and Kian enjoyed slightly spicy activity from time to time, but what she'd seen in the vision hadn't been about fun and games. "This wasn't play, Kian. And just to make sure that I did not have any misconceptions about what I'd seen in the dream, there was the second vision that barreled into me while I was in your office."

His smile faded. "Did he say anything to her?"

Closing her eyes, Syssi forced herself to recall what she'd witnessed. "Yes. He said a few words. I think it was in Farsi, but I'm not sure."

"Did she respond?"

Syssi shook her head. "She just stared at him with glazed-over eyes. There wasn't any panic in her expression or even revulsion, and yet I knew it wasn't consensual. Something was done to her."

"Tell me about the room—the cell. Any details that can help us identify the place."

It was easier to focus on the practical aspects of the scene rather than the emotional impact. "At first glance, I thought it was a prison cell. There were bars on the small square window, and the bed was one of those old metal-frame types you see in movies about prisons or asylums. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the linoleum floor was coming up in patches. Everything looked run-down. When the scumbag entered wearing a doctor's coat, I realized it must be a hospital of some sort."

"Do you think you can draw the room?" Kian asked.

"I can try."

He rose to his feet. "I'll get your tablet from the bedroom."

Syssi nodded despite dreading him leaving her alone even for a minute. She focused on the cappuccino, which was indeed excellent, taking small sips and savoring the taste until Kian returned with her tablet in hand.

"Here," he handed it to her. "It's a good idea to sketch what you saw while the images are still fresh in your mind."

"What good will that do?" Syssi took the tablet and detached the stylus. "It happened a long time ago in another country. I doubt it will help us find Kyra."

"Someone who escaped the regime might have been detained in the same place and recognize the institution," Kian said. "Especially if it was used to house rebels and brainwash them to abandon their rebellion in favor of blindly following the regime. Remember the story about the Iranian girl who took off her clothes in the middle of the street?"

Syssi nodded. "She was accosted by the modesty police because her headscarf wasn't covering every strand of her hair. After they tore her hoodie, she just snapped and took everything off except her sports bra, panties, and socks. I was terrified for her. I thought they were going to hang her like they did other women who dared to rebel or take her eye out. I was so glad that they just put her in a mental institution." She shivered. "I feel so sorry for these women and so proud of them at the same time. They are fighting an impossible fight."

Syssi opened the sketching application and started outlining the room, the window, the door, the floor, and the bed. Her artistic talent wasn't good enough to provide a realistic representation of what she'd seen, but perhaps she could give the drawing to someone to enhance with her guidance.

"When the story exploded all over the world, everyone was afraid the regime would kill her," Kian said. "But they didn't because of the international pressure. They held her in the mental asylum for a while and later released her."

"Yeah, if that's true. I'll believe it once I see her with my own eyes." Syssi shifted her gaze to him. "Do you think it might be the same place Kyra was in?"

He shrugged. "It's possible, and since it was made famous, maybe I can get some information about it."

Syssi had a feeling that he was just saying that to give her hope. "I'll try to sketch a portrait of that so-called physician. It will probably not be good enough to identify him, but maybe Tim can enhance my sketch with my input. Those former Iranians you wish to show my sketch to might recognize the pervert if he's a physician who's sold his soul to the devil and is working for the regime."

"Good thinking." Kian lifted his cup and took a long sip. "If anyone recognizes him and knows where we can find him, he might lead us to Kyra, and once we find her, we will avenge her." He gave Syssi a chilling smile. "I would be delighted to rid the world of that vermin. One less demon to walk the Earth and prey on the vulnerable and the defenseless."

Syssi sighed as she opened a fresh file and started sketching the fake doctor. "I sometimes dream of having god-like powers, and I don't mean an Anumatian god. I mean the real master of the universe, so I could wish all the monsters dead and liberate the world from evil."

Kian leaned back and draped his arm around her shoulders. "The master of the universe, if such an entity exists, leaves the governing of the physical world to those living within its boundaries. It is up to us to uphold good and eradicate evil."

"I know. And I'm glad that I don't have such powers." She lifted her eyes off the sketch to the beloved face of her mate. "With immense power comes immense responsibility, and I don't delude myself into thinking that I'm strong enough to shoulder it."

"It's not about strength." Kian's hand tightened on her shoulder. "It requires a level of detachment that you don't have. Be glad for that. The detachment is bought with pieces of your soul."

There was something to that. Empathy was a luxury that warriors often had to go without in order to be able to do their jobs. "Kyra looked to be about Jasmine's age in the vision, so the event I saw must have occurred shortly after she was taken."

"Taken?" Kian's eyebrows rose. "From where?"

"Her home." Syssi set the tablet down. "Kyra didn't just decide one day to leave her husband and daughter, fly back to Iran, walk into that institution, and ask to be chained to a bed."

"She could have gone to visit her family and got caught by the regime for some reason. Maybe her family was up to something."

Syssi shook her head. "If Kyra had left the US voluntarily, she would have told her husband and said goodbye to her daughter. Then she would have found a way to contact her husband once she escaped the asylum and joined the Kurdish resistance. She would have wanted to know if her daughter was alright."

"Unless she was afraid to contact them," Kian suggested. "Perhaps letting them know she was alive would have put them in danger."

"That's another possibility. But what are we supposed to do with this information? The vision showed something that happened over twenty years ago, and Kyra is clearly not in that place anymore. That entire facility might no longer exist."

Kian pointed at the tablet. "Showing your sketches to people who might recognize the facility or the so-called doctor is a long shot, but that's all we can do with what we have." He set his coffee cup on the table. "In your other visions, the ones of Kyra with the resistance—did she look older?"

Syssi shook her head. "It was hard to tell. Her face was always covered with a scarf, and she wore loose clothing."

"Jasmine is going to speak with her father soon," Kian said. "I know that she wants to take Ell-rom with her, but neither of them can thrall, so a Guardian will need to accompany them. Once he gets into Jasmine's father's memories of Kyra, we might learn more."

"Which Guardian are you planning to send?"

"I haven't decided yet. Why?"

She shrugged. "Max should go with them."

Kian arched a brow. "Why Max? He doesn't even like Jasmine. When Amanda tried to play matchmaker between him and Jasmine on the cruise, he made it clear that he wasn't interested. Jasmine reminds him of someone from his past he has bad residual feelings about. Also, I'm quite sure that Jasmine wouldn't be happy about him accompanying her either."

Syssi knew the general gist of that story, but her gut told her that Max was the right guy for the job, even though she couldn't explain why. "Maybe it's time he got over it. He needs to move past his prejudice, and spending time with Jasmine would show him how different she is from that woman who wronged him."

"I still don't think he's a good choice for this little mission," Kian said. "Then again, he has seniority, and I need someone capable to watch over Ell-rom."

"Maybe that's exactly why Max needs to go." Syssi pressed her face against Kian's chest, breathing in his familiar scent. "I trust the Fates, and they are telling me that Max is the right choice. What's the worst that can happen if I'm wrong? Max getting over his phobia of curvy, gorgeous brunettes?"

Kian laughed. "Well, when you put it like that, there is really no good reason for him to decline the mission."