The Scythian Trials

by Elizabeth Isaacs

  Nya drew strength from his memory as she struggled to sit up. She knew she wouldn’t make it out of this place alive, but that no longer mattered. A new reality took hold as she swung her feet over the side of the bed. Her life was no longer about continuing Otrera’s line. It was about saving the Society. She’d make sure Penn didn’t use her genetics to create a hybrid race.

  Kill Sarkov ... find the eggs ... destroy the Chancellor. She ran the words over and over in her mind, a mantra that grew stronger each time she silently repeated it.

  She’d start by looking where it all began—in that plastic-lined room.

  Few knew that Penn used to visit her at night through a passageway hidden behind wooden paneling. She had no idea how many corridors were buried within the walls, but she was sure if Penn wasn’t in the room where he’d stolen her eggs, he’d be somewhere close by.

  Yes. Keep the priorities. Find a way to get to that room. Kill Sarkov ... find the eggs ... destroy the Chancellor.

  Tumblers ticked as the door beyond the glass wall opened. Stephan’s stocky frame cast a deep shadow as he stepped into the formal sitting area. Nya doggedly ignored the pain and locked her knees. No way she’d face the bastard sitting down.

  “I thought I would find you huddled on the floor. And yet, here you stand, bold as brass. How are you able to fight the Phoenix?”

  “Superior genetics.”

  Stephan’s lips thinned. “The Tsar’s conjugal visits begin tonight. Your maid is coming to help you prepare.”

  Hatred flashed in her eyes as she kept his gaze. “I’ll never be Ana Sarkov. You more than anyone should know that.”

  Stephan stepped closer. “At least consider the possibility. These past four years Penn has invested heavily in your future. And while the talk among the old guard is the Tsar has become weak, they don’t understand that you were meant to create a new destiny.”

  “I won’t submit, not to Penn.” She grew strangely calm.

  Stephan pressed a button on the wall. “Next year, I’ll remind you of this discussion. It should be interesting to see what you have to say then. Oh, you should sit down—unless you want to end up on the floor.”

  She wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off his face, but mist filtered from a vent high overhead, and she stumbled, her legs barely making it to the edge of the bed before they gave way.

  “The Tsar is eager to finally take what is his. Serve him well if you wish to survive. And then maybe we can put all this unpleasantness behind us.”

  The last time she was here, Penn touched her for hours, making sure she remained aware of what was happening but drugging her so she couldn’t move.

  “Rest well, Ana.”

  The mist turned to a fog, and Nya rolled, so her face stayed buried in the soft comforter. She remained stock still, taking shallow breaths, allowing the bedding to serve as a filter. The minutes seemed like hours, but even though her arms felt like lead, and her legs stayed at an odd angle, dangling to the floor, she never lost consciousness.

  Finally, the fan overhead came to life, clearing the fog away.

  Voices bled from the hall, and she completely relaxed and kept her eyes closed. The door clicked open, followed by a series of beeps and then another click as the inner glass panel gave way.

  “Oooh, she’s as lovely as a rose.” The English lilt of a woman’s voice sounded dangerously close, and Nya forced herself to stay limp.

  “Chosen, I’d like to introduce Ike and Gia Thalestris.” Victor’s calm demeanor did nothing for the tension running rampant in the room. Disgust and judgement etched on their faces, Nya’s Chosen stood shoulder to shoulder and glared at the couple.

  “You may not like me, but as an Amazonian warrior I demand your respect.” Gia shouldered her way through the males and crossed the room.

  Ike dropped a rucksack by the door. “Let’s concentrate on getting Anya back, and then you can condemn us to hell.”

  Jax closed the door as Gia set a small projector on one end of the table. With the press of a button, the old Formica turned into a touchscreen. “Here are the castle’s original blueprints.” A few more touches and a satellite image popped up. “And this was taken four hours ago.”

  Hundreds of workmen milled around the outer perimeter. A large flatbed, loaded with a boxed car, stood by the front steps.

  “How many men are Drahzdan soldiers and how many are common Allos workers?” Luka asked.

  She shook her head. “We don’t have a head count yet. But we do know the Drahzda have hired construction crews from as far as Moscow, and satellites show several large Drahzdan convoys heading this way.”

  Giovanni’s phone beeped. “Excuse me.” He left the table.

  “I say we go in guns blazing.” Luka pointed to the back of the castle. “And we start here.”

  Victor shook his head. “The Tovaris aren’t in place yet. And even if they were it would be a bloodbath.”

  “Not to mention Penn Sarkov, sick fuck that he is, will have a contingency plan that no doubt will end with Nya being in a lot of pain.” Jax’s voice darkened. “As much as I hate waiting, we find a way to get in and out before anyone knows we’re there.”

  “We believe she’s being held here.” Gia swiped across the northern wing, zooming in on a section along the second floor. “Which means we split up.”

  The room grew quiet as Jax stepped forward. “Should you take the lead on this one? Killian’s our best tracker, and I—”

  “No.” Gia’s voice turned soft, deadly. “It is my right. I claim vengeance in the name of my nata.”

  Everyone stopped as her words rang in the room. Victor placed his fist over his heart. “So be it.”

  All eyes turned toward Gia, and she took a deep breath. “Victor, you’ll join Zander and the rest of the Tova’s and secure us a way out of here once we’ve rescued Nya. Ike and Jax, find my nata. Luka, Giovanni, and Aren will defend the perimeter while Killian and I track Sarkov.” Her voice became high, tight. “I should have killed Penn years ago, but I didn’t, and Nya paid the price. I won’t make that same mistake again.”

  Jax cleared his throat. “We’d have a better chance of getting Nya out first if we had a way to the roof.”

  Giovanni came back in the room. “I agree. And I believe I’ve found a way.” He scooted between Gia and Aren to enlarge the image so the southern parapet covered the table. A black chute cascaded over the outer wall and into a large, encased dumpster.

  “According to our sources, the old plaster from the second floor was covered in black mold. The construction engineer felt it best to contain it, and so they’re bagging the debris and then dumping it through this chute into the enclosed container below. As soon as we discovered they were looking for a mold removal company, the Italian forces sent in Allos who are Scythian loyalists to help. They’re changing out containers this afternoon, which means if we can get into the dumpster, we can scale up the chute and be on the roof in a matter of minutes.”

  Gia rubbed her chin. “How sturdy is the plastic?”

  “It’s heavy gauge with reinforced spiral wiring, which will serve as a ladder. It’ll have to be well timed. The Tsar has the construction crews working around the clock. The chute will be used in shifts.”

  Jax looked out the window. Thick clouds hung low in the sky. “Unless it’s raining, which means the crew will stay indoors.”

  Thunder rumbled overhead, and Victor clicked off the projector. “I believe that’s our cue.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “It’s been an hour, and she’s still out of it.” The woman’s voice floated overhead.

  “She shouldn’t be.” Frustration darkened the male’s tone, and Nya forced her body to remain lax. Sergei. The bastard was head of Sarkov’s guard. He would be third in line to die—right after Penn and Stephan.

  “Poor dear.” The woman touched Nya’s head. “They had her under for hours before she got here, and now this. It’ll be a wonder if I can get her i
nto the bath, much less the waxing table.”

  The Allos had weird rituals about plucking and shaving specific parts of a woman’s body, but Amazonian warriors had little body hair to speak of, and Scythian males didn’t care about such trivial things anyway. Still, Penn would want her buffed, powdered, and polished for his pleasure. He’d want her scented and lotioned, soft and submissive, primped with stained lips, and cloying perfume like an Allos woman would be.

  She couldn’t stand the thought, but if it gave her time to gather her strength and find a way out of this mess, she’d let them shave and wax whatever they wanted.

  “She’s not as harmless as she looks.” Sergei’s voice turned harsh. “Be careful. These things are strong.”

  “Don’t call her a thing.” The woman’s defensive voice dropped to a hushed whisper. “Besides. Penn might be listening.”

  Sergei hesitated. “You haven’t seen her kill a soldier with one foot. I have.” His tone became businesslike. “Now, there’s an alarm by the bathroom door. Just push the button should you need help. Can you get her undressed and in the tub by yourself?”

  The woman scoffed. “And if I can’t, would you like to tell the Tsar that you helped bathe his beloved Ana?”

  “Of course not.” The bed dipped as Sergei sat next to Nya. Her listless body rolled toward him, her side brushing against his hip. Warm breath swept across her face.

  “What are you doing?” The woman panicked.

  “Making sure she’s really under.”

  Something grazed Nya’s cheek, and she forced herself to remain still.

  “I believe you’re right.” Sergei stood, and Nya rolled back. “The sedative must have been too strong so soon after her journey here. I’d planned on giving her something so she wouldn’t be able to kill you where you stand.”

  “Penn will have you drawn and quartered if she isn’t at least coherent by tonight.”

  He paused. “I’ll send a few maids in to help.”

  The woman bristled. “The Tsar chose me personally for this task, and I’ll not be disappointing him. Besides, the others aren’t allowed on this floor, you know that.”

  “Then I’ll send for Penn.”

  Panic threaded through Nya, but she managed to remain calm.

  “He doesn’t want to see her until tonight,” the woman warmly chided. “He said it’ll be like unwrapping a gift he’s been looking forward to for four years.”

  Nya couldn’t help but tense at that, but she quickly covered it up with a soft groan and forced herself to relax again.

  “Looks like she’s coming around, best be getting on with it,” the woman said.

  Nya flinched as a large palm dipped beneath her knees, and another made its way around her shoulders.

  Sergei’s deep voice grumbled just above her face. “I’ll get her into the bathroom, but then you’re on your own.”

  He lowered her into the tub and started the tap. Cold water rushed onto her silk covered legs.

  “I’d planned on stripping her first.” Frustration bit through the woman’s voice.

  “You can do that here. It’ll make it easier anyway. Oh, and braid her hair. The Tsar wants to unbraid it himself.”

  Bile rose in Nya’s throat. When they were young, Penn spent hours playing with her hair. He couldn’t get past the silky texture, yet each strand was as strong as twine.

  The water warmed, and air stirred as Sergei stood. “I’ll be back within the hour. Have her in the bed by then. I’ve set a syringe on the nightstand, just in case.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You know her trigger if she gets out of hand?”

  “Of course.”

  “And don’t forget to set the security alarm. It’ll be more than your life’s worth if she manages to escape.” His voice trailed away, and then the door clicked closed.

  “One time,” the woman grumbled. “I forget an alarm one time, and I never live it down. I swear that man ...” She kept mumbling to herself as she bustled around the room, collecting soaps and lotions and God knew what else.

  Warmth seeped over Nya’s thighs as the water rose. She tipped her head to the side, weakly groaning as her eyes opened to slits.

  The woman’s kind gaze met hers, and she patted her shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Ana. The sedative will keep you docile as a lamb. There’s no need to fight me, you know. I’ve worked for the Sarkov family for years. Penn and I were friends, well, that is before his mother took him away. He’ll treat you right if you let him.”

  Nya’s lids floated closed, her mind racing through her memories of Penn when they were little. He did mention a few times having one other friend. She was older, though ... what was her name? Mindy ... Molly?

  The woman hoisted Nya up to a sitting position, hiking her dress up to her torso and pulling it off over her head. Her bra was next.

  Something pinged in the room.

  “Millie, how is my Ana doing?”

  Nya forced herself to stay still as Penn’s voice echoed off the harsh tile walls.

  Millie ... that was it. Penn once said she was the only other person he trusted.

  “She’s as beautiful as you said she’d be. And she’s still out like a light.”

  “Will she be ready?”

  “If Stephan stops pumping her room full of sleeping gas, she will.”

  A few moments passed before Sarkov answered. “I’ll speak with him. A situation has arisen that requires my attention. I’ll be later than planned, but I expect to enter our suite with my Ana warming our bed.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have her tucked in as snug as a bug in a rug.”

  “Make sure her hair is —”

  “In one braid down her back. Yes, we’ve gone over this, Penn.” Millie’s voice warmed as if she were appeasing a child. “She’ll be well rested for you with her beautiful hair just the way you want it.”

  The room went silent, and Millie sighed, shifting closer to the tub. “You’re a lucky girl.” She brushed back Nya’s hair. “As the Tsar’s wife, you’ll live in a palace and want for nothing. You’ll be waited on hand and foot, protected, coddled, and adored.” Longing deepened her tone. “A lot of women would give anything to be in your shoes. It’s every girl’s dream.”

  Nya’s eyes shot open as her hand lashed out, wrapping around the woman’s neck. Pulling her so close her lips rested against the woman’s ear.

  “It’s my fucking nightmare.”

  Millie struggled, but Nya brought up her other thumb and pressed down hard on the woman’s neck. Millie’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped over the tub.

  Standing as quietly as possible, Nya lowered the older woman to the ground. Water gushed as she turned both taps to full and unplugged the drain. The constant rush of water filled the room as Nya stripped Millie down to her bra and panties. She whipped the silky sleeveless red nightgown over the woman’s head, tugging it past her waist before threading her arms through the matching robe.

  The older woman started to stir, and Nya flipped her on her stomach and stuffed a wet washcloth in her mouth. She shoved her knee in the middle of Millie’s back and tied her hands with the silk tie from the robe.

  “Fight me, and I’ll snap your neck,” Nya whispered in her ear. “I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to. Now, what is it going to be?”

  The maid stilled.

  “One sound, one movement, and you die. If you know anything about Scythians, you know I’m not bluffing.”

  Tears trickled down Millie’s face as she watched Nya grab her uniform and put it on. The black pants were a little large, but thankfully the Allos woman was taller than most. Nya tucked in the roomy shirt before securing the entire thing with her belt. She pulled her black hair into a bun, thankful for the ridiculous lace cap that was part of the maid’s uniform.

  Nya felt like she’d been run over by a truck, but at least she was getting her strength back. She looked at the woman cowering on the floor and bent down, taking her
hair out of its tight bun.

  Shit. Millie’s mousy brown hair would be a dead giveaway. Not to mention it wasn’t nearly as long as it needed to be. Nya took a towel and dipped in under the running water until it was sopping wet. She wrung it over Millie’s head, darkening her color.

  Better.

  She tossed the towel into the corner before braiding the maid’s hair and slipping it under her robe.

  If she kept the lights low, maybe it wouldn’t be too obvious.

  Nya shoved her feet in the woman’s shoes before bending back down.

  “Now. Millie, is it?” Nya looked into her eyes.

  The other woman whimpered.

  “Sarkov’s a bastard. He’s probably going to murder you and not think a thing about it. But if he knew you were conscious and didn’t call for help he’d make you suffer, killing you slowly instead. I don’t want that on my conscience, so I’m really sorry about this.”

  She thumbed the woman’s neck again, noting the bruise blooming there. Within seconds the maid went lax.

  Nya turned off the water and hoisted Millie’s arm over her shoulder while keeping hold of her waist. Head down, she opened the door and started toward the bed. Her strength hadn’t fully returned, but she realized she could use that to her advantage. The video feed would show one woman in a uniform struggling to get another woman across the room. Nya flipped the side lamp off and pulled the duvet back. She lowered Millie onto the bed and pulled the covers up to the maid’s neck.

  Millie groaned, and Nya grabbed the syringe from the side table, plunging it into her arm. The woman went utterly lax.

  Bile rose in her throat, and Nya swallowed a few times as she adjusted the woman’s braid, tucking it between the pillows.

  Eyes to the ground, she calmly walked back to the bathroom. It took everything she had not to bolt from the place, but she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to move slow and easy as she gathered the wet silk dress and towels. Picking up her sandals on the way out, she turned the knob.

  Relief flooded through her as the door clicked open. She focused on the security pad near the glass wall, thanking God the system had an ‘alarm on’ button instead of using a code. Knowing Sarkov, she wouldn’t have been surprised if the thing took a thumbprint or retinal scan.