THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

“I just believe all TecKnati should be punished.”
    “As do I.” 
    Callan could not listen to these two carry on any longer. No one had more reason than him to feel deep hatred for the TecKnati who had killed his twin brother, but Mathias was the eldest of the Governing House and had studied MystiK law since taking his first steps. His word was final and Callan would uphold the law here just as he would at home, even if it meant laying down his life to do so.
    He’d failed once. That wouldn’t happen again.
    Making himself heard as he stepped in, Callan asked, “Where is Mathias?”
    Zilya’s surprised gaze shot up to his, then she calmly returned to winding her thread. “Checking on our new child.” 
    Callan called to Mathias, mind to mind. This is Callan. We need to talk .
    Mathias answered, I’m on my way to my chamber. Meet me there .
    Speaking out loud, Callan said, “For one so busy as you claim, I would think you’d have more to do than sew, Zilya.”
    She tensed at realizing he’d overheard her conversation.
    “What would you have her do?” Etoi argued in her usual surly tone. Her lack of respect knew no bounds.
    “You could both use more training.”
    Etoi leaped to her feet, hands fisted and shoulders tight. “You wish you had more warriors like me.”
    “If you’d train as hard as you gossip, then I’d agree.”
    Growling, she lunged at Callan who only lifted a hand. Etoi smacked against the invisible surface of his power and bounced back, yelping and rubbing her nose that now trickled with blood.
    He grinned. “You can put a bandage on your nose, but there’s no cure for stupidity. On the positive side, those who act without thinking will eventually clean up the gene pool.”
    “Must you?” Zilya asked Callan.
    “I did nothing except defend myself in the least painful way from someone who should take care whom she attacks.”
    Murder raged in Etoi’s eyes. “In this Sphere, you are not of Gild or Rubio level. You are not your brother, only a second son who is unfit to rule the Warrior House.”
    Zilya went very still, her eyes raised watching Callan.
    Etoi’s words sliced through him back and forth, cleaving his heart with each reminder that he’d failed to protect his twin brother’s back. Jornn should have been the next Warrior House ruler, but the TecKnati had murdered him. After torturing Jornn to the point of disembowelment, they’d cut a triangle where his heart had been and that was the last vision their mother had of her son’s body.
    Callan’s last memory of his closest friend in the world.
    But the TecKnati had not broken Callan and neither would some spiteful elite-Gild-wannabe like Etoi. He forced a smile to his lips and told her, “You’re right. I will not rule my House, but I never wanted to, where you will always lust after the life of a Gild female and the closest you will ever come is cleaning their hygiene facilities.”
    His strike slapped the arrogance off of her bitter face and silenced her. He pointed at the door. “Go.”
    Wisely, Zilya stood and pushed a bowl at Etoi as though she had made the decision for them to leave. “Meet me in my chambers.”
    Etoi gripped the woven bowl with fingers so tight they turned white at the knuckles, but she left without another word.
    Once Etoi was clearly out of earshot, Zilya whispered, “When did you realize you had that ability?”
    “Stopping Etoi with my hand?”“Yes.”
    “It’s new and not of any significant use yet.”  Not that he’d let her know when any of his G’ortian gifts reached full potential. He could use those powers with fighting croggles if not for some defense mechanism the TeKs had put around the areas where the monsters lived.
    Stepping up next to Callan, Zilya said in a sultry voice, “I’m always willing to train. When will you be available for a private session?”
    Back home, men lost their wits when Zilya walked into a building. She was stunning and rare, and they all wanted her. Not me . He’d been interested, once, back when he was fifteen and before she’d been promised to his brother. Then Callan had investigated her as he would anyone who might have proven a threat at some point to his brother.
    Beneath the layers of Zilya’s beauty lay a deadly trap of deceit and a heart of ice. Sharing his opinion of Zilya with Jornn had caused an argument Callan didn’t want to remember. He told her, “I’ll let you know when I’m training grunts again.”
    Her eyes