Willa's Way

by Reagan Woods

  She still wasn’t fast enough to escape the third alien. This one had been watching the confrontation and had learned a thing or two. He grabbed her by the front of the throat, tightening his grip just beneath her jaw bone. Turning her bodily, he lifted her up and pinned her back against his chest, arms tight against her sides, effectively ending her struggles.

  Three more aliens joined the party and Arianna couldn’t understand what they said to one another in their snapping and growling language.

  She felt a cold pressure over her carotid artery. Then the lights went out.

  Chapter Four

  Darvan rubbed his hands across his tired eyes in an effort to clear his head and focus on the report in front of him. The High Council of the CORANOS Galactic Alliance, CGA for short, was burying him in requests to speed up his timeline. First, they wanted him to hang back and sit on his thumbs. Now, he needed to make haste.

  Earth’s bountiful and, for the most part, ignored natural resources were too big a lure for the Council to resist. The sooner they had the ore that seemed to litter the planet, indeed the whole solar system, the faster they could produce their molecular technology and sell it to waiting buyers throughout the universe.

  CORANOS politicians, were never happy when the bottom line was threatened. Naturally, they believed the way to control the situation was to demand Darvan’s holographic presence for the innumerable interminable meetings they held. Meetings that took place, of course, during the light hours of his home world Cor I, several billion light years away. As a result, he hadn’t had a full sleep cycle in longer than he could remember.

  Further complicating his mission, the Council had insisted on the unprecedented assignment of non-military personnel to this campaign. Darvan’s armada carried an alarming number of untrained Doranos liaisons, like his own smarmy Attaché Jorkan, as well as two science vessels staffed by Corian scientists. While the scientists were combat trained, they were mostly untested.

  His invasion force had gotten twitchy from lack of action and the self-important civilians hadn’t helped matters. The warriors had been restless as the months wore on with no orders forthcoming to subdue Earth and its warring inhabitants. He’d increased the length of their mandatory workouts in an effort to curb some of their natural aggression. When the Council had finally given the go-ahead, he’d sent select groups from each ship to the surface to contain the Earthers and set up the work camps. Deploying the most aggressive of his warriors to the Containment and Track Teams had eased the atmosphere on the ships. Some. The Doranos civilians were still the cause of more than one of his headaches.

  Carrying out the High Council’s orders was his sworn duty but, damn, was he tired of it. Technically, this tour as Galaxy General could be his last. He had enough status as a retiring Galaxy General and a figurehead to his people to go home to Cor I and let mothers parade their daughters past, hoping to catch his eye. Maybe he was ready for home and family. He still felt ready to perform his duties, but his mother insisted he wasn’t getting any younger.

  Darvan’s guest chime sounded, shaking him from his brooding.

  “Enter,” he commanded in clipped accents.

  “Vank, thank you for coming,” Darvan stood from behind his desk and returned his brother’s salute. “Please sit,” he indicated a plush chair.

  “Thank you, General.”

  “The High Council believes the Ventix have mobilized their forces and are sending them into this star system with the intent to forcibly contest the CORANOS right to this galaxy. They’ve discovered our plans for Earth and are stating a prior interest. The Council wants the galaxy regardless,” Darvan let that sink in for a moment.

  “They really don’t stand a chance against our technology and superiorly trained forces,” Vank’s forehead creased. “They have the Tixerians,” he referred to the servile race of strangely insect-like bi-peds, “but the bugs aren’t suicidal. What does the Ventix Emperor know that we don’t?”

  “The High Council is seeking proof of their alleged prior interest in Earth among the other planetary alliances. Perhaps they’ll turn up something we’ve missed in our intelligence reports,” Darvan suggested. “I’m ending your duties as Commander of Track Team One and asking you to return to command of the Horizon. Make certain your fliers are all on-duty and get them out practicing attack and evade maneuvers.”

  “Yes, sir,” Vank stood to leave, looking as if he’d like to say more. “Might I have a personal word, sir?”

  “Go ahead,” Darvan’s mind had already jumped to his next task.

  “Some of the warriors have accessed the archives and found that we have a right to petition for legal claim to the female Earthers,” Vank’s tone was neutral.

  Darvan’s attention boomeranged back to Vank. “You do have the Right to Seek Claim.”

  “They’re angry that they weren’t aware of this option,” Vank began to pace, clearly uncomfortable confronting him. “Corian warriors are too aggressive to leave on-planet. We don’t have a happy home to look forward to like you do,” Darvan glimpsed the cold despair in Vank’s eyes before he masked it and continued, “but you can change that for some of us.”

  Darvan felt for his warriors. The Doranos Galaxy’s female-to-male birth rate was one-to-two, while the Corian Galaxy’s was one-to-five. The two races were compatible but rarely mixed. Corian females bonded to one male and that male was lucky to have her and the chance to have children. Doranos females were free to be with whomever they chose and often flitted between males of means; therefore, Doranos males measured success by the number of females in their care. In either galaxy, males of low birth and younger sons didn’t often have a chance to attract a female.

  “I take your point,” Darvan conceded, causing Vank to halt his pacing and shoot him a cautiously optimistic look. “As the highest ranking un-bonded male, precedent states that I’d have to take part in the claiming,” he rubbed a hand over his tired face while he considered his next words. “I don’t want to do that. Doranos females might not mind sharing a male, but I’m not interested in a Doranos or an Earther. No Corian female would bond herself to me knowing she wouldn’t be the only female in my care.”

  “The subject of the last hunt was a female, Dar,” Vank stated flatly. “She’s beautiful. A little malnourished right now, but stunning. She’s so different from our women with her soft, pale skin all of one color. Her eyes are green. I’ve never seen anything like her and, still...”

  Darvan could see his brother was about to say something that he didn’t relish.

  “So?”

  “You should take her as captive.” Vank made the outrageous statement with a straight face.

  Darvan shook his head to clear it. “A general hasn’t claimed a captive in generations. If the Earthers are granted admission to our Alliance, I’m suddenly in possession of an un-bonded female – not a captive.”

  Vank paused as if considering, “You only have to keep her as captive for as long as there are female Earthers to claim. You know that the wealthier Doranos will pillage the planet looking for females as soon as one of their politicians can wrangle the governorship. Why should we ignore our rights while the Doranos reap the rewards of our sacrifice?”

  “There is a precedent for you to claim her as the spoils of war. She was the most stubborn Earther on the whole planet. You brought her in. There’s your trophy.”

  “Alright,” Vank agreed. “I’ll claim her as my captive. I’ll gift her to you. If you think the High Council is going to vote to bring Earth into the Alliance, return her to me. You’ll be free to pursue a Corian bond-mate.”

  “Why would you give up this chance to have a female? Think, Vank,” he practically shouted. “This is your opportunity. The High Council will fight any decision benefiting warriors. Take her as your due, I doubt they’ll interfere.”

  “It pains me to turn her over to you. Greatly. But what would I tell the others? I wouldn’t be here, having this conversation, if they weren�
��t angry.”

  For Darvan, facing an outraged Council was better than dealing with droves of rioting warriors. The Corian Councilors wouldn’t be thrilled that he didn’t partake in the claiming, but they would know two females could not live in one home. As for the Doranos Councilors, they and the males they sent as liaisons, were just the males who would be scooping up the Earther females to add to their harems if given a chance. They would not be happy.

  “Fine, Vank, have Jorkan bring the captive here first thing tomorrow. I’ll find a fair system for granting or denying petitions for captives. I will expect these warriors to deserve and protect these Earth females.

  “Yes, Sir,” Vank made his exit with undignified haste.

  Darvan was sorely tempted to contact his Uncle, Councilor Darkan, in spite of the time difference but he refrained. He needed to hold his own council on this matter of the warriors and their Right to Seek Claim. Appearing uncertain of his decision would weaken his position substantially.

  What was he supposed to do with a captive Earther, anyway?

  The Lost

  Earth Neverafter Book 3

  Reagan Woods

  Prologue

  Eight Years Before CORANOS Invasion of Earth

  Venori Imperial Palace, Emperor Hash-Han’s Private Offices

  “Come,” the command came out with unusually perfect diction. The Emperor, like most Venori, tended to mangle words. Talking around a grill packed with sharp teeth or through a mouth that resembled a beak was, no doubt, difficult – it was a trial for the listener, too.

  His trusted aide, Kistrami, had pulled Lara from her class and badgered her into a pristine linen skirt. A few strands of pretty beads were her top. Kistrami wasn’t friendly with the trainees, ever, but she found him extra detestable as he shoved her bodily into the room before clicking the carved door shut at her back.

  Stumbling gracelessly, Lara made her way deeper into the vaulted room of lavish gold and deep jewel tones. Intricately painted scenes danced over gleaming walls, interrupted at regular intervals by towering basalt statues of Emperor Hash-Han himself. The whole Imperial Palace was like a giant museum-slash-alter to Hash-Han and his ancestors.

  Arianna would find this place fascinating. The thought trickled through her head, unbidden images of her sister assailing her mind. Where was Ari now? Had she given up hope of ever seeing Bellara again? Lara hoped so – it was for the best.

  Ari wouldn’t recognize her. They’d been born identical, but Hash-Han’s army of shamen and mad scientists had altered her DNA. Her coloring was the same, ashy blonde hair with cool green eyes, but Lara wasn’t small or delicate like the Earthers in her memory. She had grown tall and strong, and, as Hash-Han said, her brain was a weapon destined to destroy.

  Still, part of her, the selfish part, wanted to reach out, to feel the twin she missed. She was powerful enough to do it, too, with someone to direct her abilities. Though her training wasn’t going smoothly. If she had anything to say about it, it never would. Shredding through the minds of others, evil and good alike, like so much tissue paper wasn’t on her long-term goal sheet.

  Directly challenging the animal-like Emperor was not on her agenda, either, so she cast her gaze to the polished glass floor. But movement flickered ahead, demanding her attention on the view screen where Hash-Han stood. Blue and white, a little marble danced and jumped before settling into focus as a planet.

  Lara’s heart caught at the sight of her old home, that glimpse giving her an irrational, sweeping hope. The ache of missing her family flared with staggering intensity. Hash-Han’s low growl warned her that he read the direction of her thoughts. And they displeased him.

  Unsteady knees threatened to buckle as she made obeisance to the powerful psychic ruler, the deep bow exposing her nape to his pointed teeth. He was in a semi-human form today. She tried not to stare. Most Venori preferred the freedom and strength of their beast.

  The duality of the Venori nature had come as a shock. Living on a planet of intelligent-but-violent animals took some getting used to. Discovering that the beasts could hide behind human faces cost her weeks of sleep.

  Years of acclimation didn’t lessen the fear, and the sight of the emperor’s smooth, human-like skin made her own skin prick uneasily. Surreptitiously, she wiped moist palms on her skirt.

  “You may rise, Bellara,” his authoritative baritone rang clear, carrying nary a snap nor growl. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you here.”

  Slowly straightening, she studied his golden sandals, the high arches and opaque nails of his feet. Only when he expressly permitted was she to speak. Court etiquette was one of the first things she had learned on arrival at the palace.

  “I’ve been watching you.”

  Her eyes jumped to his in surprise. Irises so dark they appeared black began to glow with a feral light. Remembering herself, she snapped her gaze down.

  “You can look at me, Bellara. I understand your people do such things,” his words grew thick.

  Unable to resist, Lara carefully raised her head, aiming for somewhere around his nose. Long teeth grew, denting his full lips, and, as she watched, his nose and mouth began to mesh into a short snout. Cartilage and bones snapped and reformed until he resembled a skin-clad wolf on two legs. Shuddering on the inside, she did her best to remain stoic.

  “We have a problem.” The words were a menacing growl. “Your trainers believe you aren’t embracing your life here. I have to agree you’re not living up to your potential.” The ominous tap of his claws against the floor brought him closer.

  She tried to formulate a response, but thought better of it when she chanced a glimpse at his eyes. The Emperor was displeased.

  Her mouth went dry. Sweat trickled down her naked back. If Hash-Han’s heightened senses didn’t detect her fear before, he knew she was scared now – he would smell it.

  “You excel in the physical arena, but refuse to commit to your mental training,” he admonished, looming close enough to run clawed fingers through her neat rows of braids. His moist breath heated the shell of her ear as he leaned down to whisper, “Tsk, tsk. How can I get your attention, Lara?” The deadly strong half shifted paw-hand clenched, pressing sharp points into her tender scalp.

  Lara bit her tongue. Showing the animals weakness was akin to asking for a beating. Hash-Han, like any other of his kind, could be incredibly civilized. Or incredibly savage.

  He released her, turning so they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the display of Earth. “This is a live feed,” he said conversationally, changing the subject abruptly. “Forgive the angles. The editors will clean it up later.” As if bored, he continued, “You’ve studied how the Earth came to be populated. My people created yours as we created the Novink and the Tixerian. The Novink, we made those four-armed machines to fight; the Tixerian, the bugs as they’re often called, to serve.”

  The Emperor wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t heard before. Now that he wasn’t threatening her, she could think. A chill settled over her slick skin. Could he know that she had formulated a plan to escape?

  “Earthers, we made to provide us with soft females to fuck,” he continued. “It happened that, in creating Earthers, my ancestors begat a line of superior psychics. Unfortunately, they’re rare and usually female.” This wasn’t exactly the story her tutors imparted, but sometimes history was sanitized for mass consumption.

  “We miscalculated when we programmed Earther reproductive abilities. You see, my ancestors understood that males are controlled by females. By access to them. So, of course, we limited the number of females universally and controlled their disbursement. But, for fear of losing the psychic gene on Earth, we couldn’t tamper with the formula. When birth rates were too high, we introduced plagues, pestilence, famine, even incited wars. After we harvested, of course.”

  He paced in a lazy circle around her. The information was horrific but unsurprising. Hash-Han and his ancestors were cruel, selfish people per t
heir own histories.

  “I was at a crossroads when you were born, the fascination with Earthers was waning as were the psychic advents. But, you, my dear, were so powerful that I felt your birth. I should have sent for you then.”

  She turned her head, openly staring. Her jaw gaped and her mind raced. He felt her birth?

  A furred arm slipped around her bare shoulders, imprisoning her at his side. While he spoke, he had reverted fully to his animal form. Still on two legs, the giant beast was sleek and predatory, black as night and just as full of unknown dangers.

  Her heart stuttered as his opposite hand gripped her chin, forcing her attention to the massive screen.

  “I should have sent for you,” he repeated, claws pressing hard enough to make her bleed. “And I should have annihilated the cesspool you crawled from. You can’t return to what’s not there.”

  Imperial Destroyers began to move into view, their target clear. The large VENTIX ships were unlike anything Earth had ever seen. She knew what they could do, though.

  Lara’s stomach heaved as though he’d kicked her in it. He was going to end the Earth. Because of her. “Please,” she begged. “I’ll do better,” she slurred, tasting the salt of her tears, the copper of her own blood. “Don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want.”

  “Tsk. We both know that’s a lie.” Faux pity coated steel words.

  Truly, she hated the idea of being Hash-Han’s psychic spy, of constantly exploiting his enemies’ weaknesses. When faced with this finality, though, it was no contest. It shouldn’t have been, anyway. But he felt her reluctance – she saw it in his eyes, in the vicious twist of his muzzle.

  Lara attacked the claws that gripped her, becoming a ferocious animal in her heart if not her body. Grappling with Hash-Han and with a newfound flexible morality felt overwhelming and hopelessly urgent.