by Anna Argent
“Really?” she asked, shaking with rage. “That’s the way you want to play this? You do realize that there’s a huge ship full of those spider things headed this way, don’t you? It will be here right around nightfall if my guess is right. And I’m the only person you’ve got who has even a snowball’s chance in hell of stopping them.” She reached up and patted Pretor’s red cheek. “Now, you either say ‘yes, Your Imperial Majyr,’ let Warrian go, and do everything I said, or you can find a way to defend yourself without my help. Your choice.”
“You will not hold our island hostage with your petty wishes.”
“No? I realize that the view from down here is a lot different than from up there, but from where I’m standing, it seems like I already have.”
“We will not bow to the whims of an outsider.”
Isa shrugged with more nonchalance than she felt. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble to bring this outsider here.”
Pretor leaned close, his voice lethally quiet. “You will do your duty.”
She smiled and tweaked his nose. “If I had testicles, Pretor, this is where I’d tell you to suck them.”
He gritted his teeth so hard, she was sure he was going to break them, but in the end, he turned around and left, taking the whole crew of armed guards and pissed off councilmen with him.
Warrian stood at her side, silent and still. As soon as the doors shut, her knees went a little soft, and she grabbed his arm to hold herself up.
“Whew,” she said. “That Red Bull of yours is powerful stuff.”
Warrian helped her to a nearby chair, sat, and pulled her onto his lap. He stroked her back in long, sweeping glides of his big hand. “You should not have provoked them like that. But since you did, I’m pleased I was here to witness it.”
Isa let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t think I made any friends just now.”
“On the contrary. Every warrior there looked on you with new eyes, thanks to your show of strength.”
“Yeah, well, I hoped they enjoyed the show, because, truth be known, I can’t let those spider thingies reach the island. Everyone here will die if I let that happen. Even the innocents.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You do what you must. I will see to it that your demands are met.”
“How are you going to do that? As soon as I blow up that approaching ship, the council will probably throw you in jail.”
“You let me worry about that. Your burden is large enough.”
She looked up at him, soaking up the sight of his handsome face. He looked tired. Several days’ stubble covered his wide jaw. She ran her finger over his top lip, letting the memory of his kisses soothe her while simultaneously heating her from the inside.
“I know that look,” he whispered. “I would like nothing more than to indulge your every desire, but it is dangerous. You have held the council off for now, but not even you can protect me from a charge of treason should I give into such desires.”
He was right. As much as she wanted him, as much as she wanted to distract herself from all of the bad stuff by wallowing in the pleasure she knew he could give, she couldn’t be stupid. She couldn’t jeopardize Warrian or the safety of those on the island.
It was time to get to work. “I need to go.”
“I will escort you.”
She pressed her hand against his chest to keep him in the chair. “I don’t want you to come with me. I don’t want you to see me like that.”
His jaw tightened, bulging with impotent frustration. “I know there will be pain for you. I also know it will be… difficult to witness that pain. But I would rather be there. You may need me.”
“It’s too much to ask.”
“You are saving my fellow warriors from harm. There is nothing you could ask of me that would be too much.”
“I’m going to remember you said that,” she warned him, dragging her finger over his full bottom lip. “When I finally have that bar on my door… you’re going to pay up, mister.”
*****
Warrian was certain that Isa had no idea just how much danger she had roused today. The council was powerful. The men who formed it were each alone capable of doing great harm to her. Together, not even she would be able to stop them. They controlled too many people, too much wealth. They knew too many secrets—secrets they could use to force others to do their bidding.
While they would never kill her—she was far too valuable for that—they would not hesitate to destroy her in other ways. More painful, devastating ways.
If Isa was to survive unscathed, Warrian was going to need to act, and there was only one thing he could think to do.
He sent a coded communication to his commander and several of the warriors who’d fought by his side—men and women he trusted with his life. He needed them to be nearby if things went badly for Isa.
For centuries the council had controlled the military. Without an armed force at their back, the council was no more than a group of aging men who had long forgotten how to use any weapons beyond treachery and deceit. Without Warrian and the men and women who held the Raide and their war slaves at bay, the council would be nothing at all. They weren’t even fit to become slaves themselves. They were too frail, too weak. Like the children of Loriah, the Raide would hold them hostage as insurance of the docile behavior of others.
After the way they’d treated Isa today, Warrian was done fighting their causes. And if his guess was right, there were many others who would agree. All he had to do was find and rally those warriors before the council found out and killed him first.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Kemp landed behind Cytur lines. He found a deep pool of shadows to help cloak his presence, and surveyed his surroundings.
Darkness had just begun to drape over the land as the sun set. In the distance, he could see the lights of the palace glowing a bright, pale orange. A breeze from the sea washed over him, driving away some of the chill of the ice storm that had come along for the ride with him.
There was little movement nearby. The Cytur camp was quiet, waiting for the fall of night before they would try to advance toward the ultimate goal of the palace and the strategic prize inside.
If the palace fell, so too would the rest of House Loriah. Once the oceans were open to the Raide to cross without obstacle, it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the planet was theirs to do with as they saw fit.
Kemp knew the Loriahans would fall. This was his third such planetary battle since his father had promoted him to the position of Battle Lord of Force Dimas. He knew the feel of impending victory, and the air here was filled with it.
He checked the communications stream, looking for anything that might help him gain access to the empress. If he failed to capture or kill her, then his entire plan to intercept the Loriahans on Earth would be seen as a failure.
That was not something Kemp was willing to accept.
Based on the information flowing over the stream, more Cytur troops were closing in. Soon they would overrun the island, taking control of the palace and the empress.
Kemp had to move in before that happened. He would not allow war slaves to take credit for his efforts. The empress was his victory to claim. He still had several hours of power left on his armor. It would be completely dark by the time he reached the palace.
All he had to do was slip into the palace unseen and find her before the transport arrived. No one would even know he was there until it was too late.
Chapter Thirty
The moment Isa saw the giant, beautiful, deadly machine looming in the center of the room, fear hit her hard. Her palms began to sweat, her knees wobbled, a sick churning started in her stomach until she was sure she was going to puke. Her entire body rebelled at climbing back into that torture device, but she knew there was no choice.
The ship loaded with those spidery things would be here soon. There weren’t enough Loriahan soldiers on the island to fight off that kind of inv
asion. If she didn’t do something, then the few people who still lived here would be wiped out by morning.
Right about now, Isa wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to keep living if it meant getting into that thing every day.
She hadn’t realized that she’d come to a full stop until she felt a gentle touch at the small of her back. Warrian. She’d know the feeling of his hand—its shape and heat—anywhere.
A little of her fear drained away, bolstering her up enough to start breathing again.
“What is the delay?” asked Pretor, his voice harsh and cold.
“Just psyching myself up for a little self-flagellation. Give me a minute.”
“There is no time.”
Isa spun around, eager for a target to vent some of her anxiety on. She got right in his face—or as close to it as her stature would allow. All of the people here were too freaking big, taking up all the space and making her feel small and weak. She hated it.
Except for Warrian. His size and strength offered comfort. Safety. Maybe it was the intimacy they’d shared, or maybe it was just the way he carried himself. But whatever it was, the balding asshole in front of her didn’t have it.
She shoved her finger into Pretor’s pudgy stomach. “I’m aware of the ticking clock. All you are doing here is creating more delays. Leave.”
His face flushed red, making the wispy hairs on his head seem brighter. “You overstep your authority, Your Imperial Majyr.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice sweet. “Because me and my gigantic gun think we haven’t even begun to exert our authority. Now. Please. Get the hell out of my sight.”
Pretor turned and left, taking two of his guards with him. The only people who remained in the room with her and Warrian were two more silent guards near the door, and the aging man who seemed to be some kind of servant awaiting orders.
“You should be careful of your words,” said Warrian, his voice low and quiet.
“He pisses me off. I’m already dealing with too much to worry about his sensitive feelings.”
“He is a powerful man.”
“Then maybe he should be the one to climb inside that gun and let it torture him. I’d pay to see that.”
Concern and fatigue lined his face, and dulled the pinpoint sparks in his slate blue eyes. He reached for her, letting his hand fall before he touched her.
Isa ached for that touch and the comfort it offered. She knew there was no getting out of what awaited her, but one hug from Warrian would make the task so much more palatable.
She looked toward the guards who stood at attention. “Please turn around.” Then to the servant hovering nearby. “You too.”
The men did as she asked, giving them as much privacy as they were going to get. She looped her arms around Warrian’s neck, and went up on tiptoe to kiss him. His hands spanned her waist, his powerful fingers curling against her skin. The heat of his hands sank through the thin fabric of her loose gown. Those fireworks in his eyes lit up, and the tension around his mouth softened.
As her mouth met his, her whole world seemed to right itself. He grounded her in a way she didn’t understand but so desperately needed. This place, while beautiful, was hostile and alien. Warrian felt like a little piece of home, shimmering with remembered pleasure and the hope for more.
Without him, she didn’t think she’d be strong enough to do what needed to be done.
The kiss ended too soon, but she couldn’t risk anyone walking in on them. As much as she needed his touch to see her through this rough patch, she couldn’t do anything that might get him in trouble.
His gaze lingered on her mouth, shining with a promise of more.
“Later,” she promised. “I won’t let them keep you from me.”
Warrian nodded and let her go. She climbed the elaborate, stone stairs that led to the machine. The heat of his body clung to her skin. The heady taste of him lingered on her lips. That was what she focused on as she took her seat. There was no fear, only the giddy excitement of knowing that she would have him to herself again soon.
That reward was more than enough to get her moving.
She closed her eyes and let the device have her. It swept through her mind as if seeking instructions. The low hum of power racing through it began to speed as it picked up on what she wanted to do.
She flew over the island, coasting just above the water, so close she was sure she could reach out and let her fingers skim over the waves. But she had no body here, no physical form. She was pure thought, with only the magic of the machine giving her this sensation of freedom.
The sky was nearly dark. Only a faint glow on the horizon was left. Somehow, it was enough light for her to see, even though it shouldn’t have been.
As she neared the huge, dull gray ship, she passed a tiny island that was little more than a clump of rocks the size of a mall parking lot. A lone grove of trees stood in the center, bent and shaped by the strong winds. A flock of birds lurched up from where they rested, disturbed by her passing.
Isa wasn’t sure how that worked, but now she was starting to worry the bad guys might be able to see her too.
She slowed as she neared the ship, keeping as much distance as she could. Those spidery things covered the deck of the ship, standing shoulder to shoulder with little room to move. Through tiny slits in the side of the hull, she could see the gleaming black armor of even more below.
A small group of the Raide stood huddled in what she guessed was a wheelhouse, sheltered from the wind and ocean spray. As she got closer, one of them lifted its head and looked in her direction.
There was no pain as there had been the last time she’d let one of them look her in the eye. But back in her body, her skin crawled with the malicious intent seeping out of the creature.
“You’re going down,” she whispered, and she swore the Raide’s eyes narrowed as if it had heard her.
Isa pulled in a deep breath, gathering herself for what was coming. She commanded the device to fire on the ship.
Even though she’d mentally prepared herself, the pain was still shocking. It tore through her, ripping a scream from her lungs as the first onslaught passed. As whatever energy this thing ran on was pulled from her cells, they seemed to shrink, making her feel brittle and small.
She saw the pulse of light hit the ship. Spindly, black bodies exploded into the air. The entire metal structure canted sideways, dumping even more of the Cyturs into the ocean. Their chittering, frantic cries swelled up from the sea, drowning out the sound of the wind.
Slowly, the ship righted itself and kept pushing forward.
Like hell.
Isa commanded the device to fire again.
Her body arched against the cushions as white hot agony lanced her skin. She forgot to breathe, or maybe she’d simply screamed all of her oxygen away. Whatever the case, her head spun and her lungs burned with the need for air.
The second shot blew a hole through the side of the hull. Hundreds of spidery bodies fought to swim clear of the wreckage as it was sucked into the sea. Some crawled over each other, shoving their own kind under the water in an effort to save themselves.
The sheer number of creatures dying was staggering. She’d never killed before coming here, and doing so now was as disgusting as it was necessary.
Tears wet her face. She wasn’t sure if she was crying from the pain or the horror. Maybe both.
Her skin felt like it was on fire, and a deep, aching hole had opened up inside her, bleeding something vital into the machine.
The device was hungry. It kept pulling from her, stealing what it needed to run. She wasn’t strong enough to fight it. She knew it wouldn’t let go of her until she’d given it everything it wanted.
And right now, it wanted her to see what was happening on the dark side of the island.
Hundreds, maybe thousands of Cyturs were lined up in formation, just standing there. She guessed they were waiting for orders to attack—waiting for the ship to arrive with reinforc
ements so that they could come at the palace from both sides.
Not that it mattered. With that many troops, they didn’t need reinforcements. The warriors on the island were outnumbered three-to-one. And they were tired. Worn down from constant skirmishes that gave them no downtime.
The Raide had planned for this. She was sure of it. They had to know the toll it would take to be under constant bombardment, always alert for the next attack.
What she needed was more warriors, but Pretor had already informed her there were none to spare. They were spread thin, protecting their most important assets. She wasn’t sure what assets were more important than a giant, nearly sentient cannon, but that guy was so self-important, if there had been troops to spare, they would have been here protecting his precious ass.
As the grinding pain of the last shot finally began to fade, she felt something happening beneath her body. The whole device was shaking, almost as if in anticipation of a fight.
It forced her attention back on the spidery troops on the blighted side of the island. She could feel a kind of eagerness humming around her, shoving her closer and closer to the ugly, scary bad guys.
“Stop it,” she growled, uncaring that talking to a machine was a stupid waste of breath.
The device didn’t stop. It vibrated faster, just like it did before firing.
Isa didn’t want to fire again. She didn’t want to go back inside the pain and let it eat her alive. She’d done what she needed to do and taken out that ship. Chances were that the other troops would take a while to find out that there was no help coming. With any luck at all, they’d stand there all night, wearing themselves out the same way that the Loriahan troops were worn out.
Tomorrow she would come back again and torture herself, but she’d taken all she could take for one night. It was time for her to stop and see if Warrian could refill the gaping hole the machine had scooped out of her. Or at least make her forget it so she wouldn’t be so afraid to come back.