by Carven, Anna
“We do not know. Neither do they. All transactions were handled through a private shell company. The details have been carefully and painstakingly concealed, but we are working on tracing the ones behind it. That is how humans operate, it seems.”
“Ah, this is starting to get irritating,” Mardok said lightly. “All these infernal shell companies and hidden identities. It’s like we’re going round and round in circles trying to catch a small but annoying insect.”
“Because they are afraid of us.” Ikriss met Tarak’s gaze. The General had been mostly quiet, but Ikriss knew that beneath the silent, inscrutable mask, labyrinthine plans were being conceived. Tarak had a particular genius for envisioning scenarios that Ikriss would never have thought of; he had a talent for calculating probabilities and putting all the pieces into place well ahead of time.
That was why he was the boss.
Tarak nodded. “Fear fuels hatred. And so does thirst for power, and so does desire for revenge. They play from the shadows because they can’t match our firepower directly, but we cannot underestimate our enemies. There are relics of the Ancient Empire scattered throughout the Universe—lost planets, powerful war machines, even individuals who have untapped potential with the ka’qui. I have no doubt they would be searching for them right now.”
“So we should look for them too,” Jerik leaned forward, his orange eyes narrowed; intense.
“I have ordered our navigators to initiate a search operation, but the Universe is infinitely vast, and often these things are stumbled upon by pure chance, not by design. It will be a combination of skill and luck. And the sooner we can find the source of the dissent—before they become too powerful—the better.”
“So this so-called Vordokar is hiding his true identity for now, and biding his time until he can amass the power to match us. And yet he instigates trouble by giving weapons to humans and trying to steal our females from right under our noses… and none of the accomplices we have caught know anything useful.” Tarkun snorted. “Several heads and high lords of the Noble Houses are still unaccounted for. Any one of them—or several of them—could be behind this insurgence. Sooner or later, someone will have to make a mistake. We need to apply the right pressure; wound a few egos, get them to make a misstep. Provoke them.”
“The bait is the human females.” A wily expression flickered across the General’s hard face, so fleeting that if Ikriss hadn’t known Tarak so well, he would have missed it. “And control of Earth is the provocation. We are going to lock Earth down and make it impossible for them to touch even a single hair on a single human female’s head. We will discreetly order the Federation to close Earth’s borders and deny entry to all Nonhumans who seek to trade, visit, or merely even transit through Earth’s borders. Every human female that is off-planet will be recalled. Those that are too far for the humans to reach in time will be tracked down and protected by us.” He bared his fangs. “And when our enemies understand that there is no way for them to get what they want, they will be forced to make a move. Let us see where that leads us.” He turned to Ikriss. “As for the loose ends in New York, I leave it up to you to deal with the situation. Make it airtight, ‘Kriss.”
Ikriss carefully concealed his surprise. The Mating Fever was only just starting to abate—and Tarak was trusting him with a major command mission?
He wasn’t sure he was entirely rational yet. Every time he thought about Sienna—about any harm coming to her—he felt like he could kill someone at the slightest provocation. Like a volatile gas planet seen from afar, his calm exterior hid seething chaos.
Was he always going to be like this?
Did the Mating Fever ever truly go away?
The slightest thought of her also made him terribly aroused. Whenever he saw her; whenever he caught a tendril of her intoxicating scent, he could become horny in a heartbeat.
His horn-buds tingled.
He wanted to claim her right now.
But he was in the middle of a fucking meeting, and they were all watching him expectantly, so he kept his expression carefully composed.
There was no way he could refuse the General’s orders. Tarak was handing Ikriss a gift on a platter; a perfect chance for him to set his Universe right after his short tangle with death.
“I accept,” he said coolly, his voice masking the fire inside him. “I will permanently secure New York and deal with the Ephrenians and the Syndicate as I see fit. And Rexu is mine to punish… as I see fit.” He hadn’t yet decided what he would do with the bastard. Plain old death was too simple and easy. He turned to Iskar. “I trust you are looking into the origins of the Kordolian weapons you found on those human mercs.”
“Naturally,” Iskar replied, showing his fangs. “I cannot sleep well knowing that there is a potential threat of that magnitude to Mari and her people on Earth. Between you and I, we can lock this planet down, and most humans won’t ever know a thing about it.”
Ikriss shared a knowing look with his friend as perfect understanding passed between them. Iskar was only recently mated too; to a feisty blue-haired human female called Mari.
When Ikriss first learned that stoic, stickler-for-regulations Iskar had fallen, he’d been happy for his friend… and a little amused.
Now look where he’d ended up.
Completely obsessed and desperately wanting to protect anything and everything that was remotely related to her.
He could so very easily overdo it if he wasn’t careful.
“So now we are all clear,” Tarak said quietly, giving them all a measured look. “Stick to your assigned operations. Bide your time. If you encounter any activity that originates from this Vordokar, you are to notify me immediately. I will give you immediate orders on how to proceed.” He inclined his head, his pale brows drawing together. “Actually, I will not call this enemy by the name they have chosen for themselves. If we have to give them a name for now, we will call them Krael.”
“Usurpers,” Mardok chuckled. “Or those that refuse to fucking die, depending on your interpretation of the High Kordolian. I like it.”
“Can’t wait to impale me some Krael.” Jerik chuckled deeply, looking immensely pleased with himself.
Ikriss and Tarkun shared a wry but good-natured glance. Jerik had a habit of finding his own humor highly amusing. For one who could that could so damn vicious in battle, he had a surprisingly un-Kordolian sense of humor, but that was Jerik.
In contrast, Tarkun could be stern to the point where one might start to think he didn’t know how to laugh at all.
He did, of course, just not very often.
Commanding everyone’s attention, Tarak stood, indicating that the meeting had come to a close. “You all have your respective command missions. I will be traveling to the Eighth Sector soon to deal with a pressing matter. You know how to reach me.”
“Just like old times,” Mardok drawled, raising his fist to his chest in a lazy half-salute. “And to think I was starting to get bored.” He turned stared at Ikriss in a strange way.
In fact, all of them were looking at him strangely now.
Even Tarak.
His left ear twitched. He did not appreciate all this fucking scrutiny. What, did he have a third horn growing out of his forehead?
“What?” he thundered.
“Brother,” Jerik said slowly, sounding uncharacteristically cautious, “your horns are growing back.”
“What are you talking about, Jerik? They are freshly shorn. I even applied liquid skin.” His hand flew to his left temple. Sure enough, there was a small, exquisitely tender bump protruding from his skull. “Ah, shit.” This was not supposed to happen. Kordolian horns usually took a whole revolution or longer to grow back to their full length.
“I would suggest you discuss this with Zharek,” Tarak said quietly, giving Ikriss a pointed look.
“I intend to,” Ikriss growled. That infernal medic would be receiving a visit from him very soon.
As Ikriss began to rise from his seat, h
is comm buzzed.
“Report,” he snapped, a little too forcefully.
“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Zarken’s gravelly voice filtered across the comm. “One request: don’t rip my head off.”
“I physically can’t right now, so tell me the bad news first.” Ikriss nodded at his comrades as the commanders said curt goodbyes, the holos of Tarkun, Jerik, and Mardok flickering and abruptly disappearing.
Iskar and Tarak hung back, engaging in a quiet, intense conversation about something or other.
“Your mate’s little female is in a secure—well, human-secure—facility. It’s not secure to us, of course, but it’s secure in the way that we’d draw a lot of attention to ourselves if we tried to breach it in a hurry. It’s right in the middle of a densely populated area. Habitation towers everywhere. It’d be all over the infernal human Networks.”
“And the good news?”
“We found her, and she’s not dead. But Kainan’s contact suspects they’re getting ready to take her off-planet very soon.”
“Half your good news is bad news,” Ikriss grumbled. At least they had a location now. A feeling of urgency swept through him. This Eva was Sienna’s cherished friend, and anything that belonged to Sienna was his now. It was illogical, but he didn’t care.
Where his mate was concerned, he would always be irrational.
At last, he understood some of Tarak’s earlier decisions—which he’d thought were rash at the time.
The boss had simply been protecting his mate.
Ikriss met the General’s piercing red gaze. Tarak gave him an almost imperceptible nod.
You have my permission to proceed in whatever way you see fit, he was saying.
Even though he was speaking with Iskar, the General noticed everything.
And now Tarak was giving Ikriss exactly what he needed.
After almost dying at the hands of his enemies; after his mate was nearly snatched away before he even got a chance to know her—the chance to exact revenge was one he couldn’t pass up.
He would pour cold hell upon these pathetic humans.
Really, the fact that Sienna’s friend needed rescuing was only too convenient. Ikriss was itching for a fight.
“Scope the building,” Ikriss ordered. “Log every entry point and do a complete internal scan. I want a complete 4D map of that facility and every building that surrounds it. I want to know exactly how many targets we might have to take out. If they have one human captive, there will probably be more.”
“There are. Kainan’s contact confirmed it.”
“The market for human females is running hot, it seems,” Ikriss mused. “We will not let a single one of them leave the face of that planet. Prepare your squadron, Zarken. Inform me as soon as you have completed the scan. If you detect any movement of prisoners out of the facility, you are to intercept them immediately and worry about the collateral later.”
“They’re just begging for death, aren’t they?”
“I doubt they’re truly aware of who they’re dealing with. If they knew, they wouldn’t be behaving so arrogantly. Their Kordolian buyers would have given them falsehoods and unrealistic expectations… and undoubtedly found a way to threaten them from within. Do not forget how good our kind are at using fear to manipulate, even from across the other side of the Universe. We will infiltrate as quietly as possible, but if things do not go to plan, then I do not care how much attention we draw to ourselves. The humans are ours. Failure is not an option.”
“All this for a few human females,” Zarken muttered. “Half the Universe must think we’ve gone mad.”
“Yes,” Ikriss agreed, secretly aware that a certain kind of madness had indeed overtaken him. “Prepare the secure area for our arrival and put all measures in place for an assault and retrieval operation. I will be arriving as soon as possible on the Crurix.”
“Sir!” Zarken snapped to attention, unconsciously falling back into old Imperial habits. If he weren’t one of Ikriss’s battle-hardened, ruthless ex-Second Division warriors, Ikriss might almost think he sounded as excited as a freshly-blooded recruit.
“See you planetside, Zar.” He terminated the comm and looked up at Tarak and Iskar. “I need to borrow Lodan for a little while longer. We are well equipped, but one just never knows with these Old Empire bastards. It is always good to have one of your kind backing us up.”
Tarak nodded, his crimson eyes unreadable. Ikriss had no doubt he was already aware of everything that Zarken had communicated. “Lodan has been assigned elsewhere. Nythian will be available for this mission. Kail has a short break before he goes off-planet again. He is currently on Earth. He will meet you at the target location.”
“Thank you, Tarak.” Out of sheer appreciation, Ikriss made a soft fist-on-chest salute. Having not one, but two First Division warriors at his disposal was a gift from the Goddess. But then his eyes narrowed. “What of Lodan, then?” He shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. Lodan had already been stationed on Earth, and it was highly unusual for any warrior to be reassigned mid-post, let alone a First Division warrior.
The First Division soldiers were notorious for their singleminded focus.
“Lodan is working on something else,” was all the General said.
Ikriss shrugged. He knew better than to push his luck. “I’ll report back once I have the humans safely in our possession.” He checked himself as his hand started to rise to his chest in the old military salute.
Iskar gave him a respectful nod.
Tarak followed suit. “May the Goddess lend strength to your sword arm. And…” he inclined his head, “enjoy her, Ikriss. You have more than earned your right to Claim your mate.”
“Oh, I will. Have no doubt about it.” Ikriss flashed his fangs, pride filling his chest as he thought of Sienna; of her delicious scent and luscious curves and her heady presence, which he would never ever grow tired of.
And he would do everything in his power to carve out a piece of the Universe for her, even if it meant grinding their enemies into cosmic dust.
He’d stared the death-god in the face and survived. And there was no way he was going back to Kaiin’s domain any time soon.
He was intact again, and this time he was stronger than before; wiser, and yet perhaps touched with a little of the mating madness.
But that was a good thing.
For Earth’s sake, and for her sake, that was a good thing.
It was so good to be back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Holy shit.
Sienna couldn’t stop stealing glances at him.
Sometimes she had to pinch herself just to prove that this was actually real and not some crazy fever-dream.
Her very own bad-ass Kordolian warrior was sitting in the pilot’s seat beside her, his expression hard and intensely focused as he piloted his small, sleek, and terrifyingly fast cruiser through Earth’s stratosphere.
When he’d escorted her off the mothership and into the small cruiser—which reminded her somewhat of a high performance Earth hovercar, only a thousand times faster and more powerful—he’d been in some sort of rush. He’d burst into the kitchen to retrieve her; golden eyes blazing, his face like silver thunder, rudely interrupting her salted caramel popcorn eating session with Arin to sweep her away to his waiting cruiser.
She couldn’t even be annoyed about it. Clad in his sleek obsidian combat armor, with his long hair in a high tail—graceful, powerful, whole—he was utterly magnificent.
Arin had bid her a nonchalant farewell, as if this sort of thing happened all the time.
Breathless, she hadn’t even questioned him as he’d whisked her away to his getaway ship.
She hadn’t even thought twice as they strode down the corridors and dozens of obsidian-armored, heavily armed Kordolian warriors appeared behind Ikriss and fell into an orderly formation.
They’d marched all the way to the massive docking area in the lower part o
f the ship, where Ikriss had immediately taken Sienna to his own private cruiser. The soldiers had boarded another mean looking ship, leaving Sienna and Ikriss alone.
In a small and cozy alien cockpit.
Just the two of them.
Flying through space for hours and hours, with nothing but the stars and each other for company.
What bliss.
They’d talked. A lot. For a bad-ass alien ex-commander, Ikriss was surprisingly easy to chill with. They’d exchanged stories about their home planets; small, intimate details about growing up, about the important people in their lives. In the space of a few hours, Sienna learned more about Kordolian culture than most humans would probably ever know.
In return, she told him about her life growing up on Earth; about her childhood growing up in a two-bedroom skybox in London with Isabella and her mother, Stella. Her mother had fostered a strong sense of competition between Sienna and Isabella. In school, music, sports, even at home, where even basic household chores turned into a battle for supremacy—for their mother’s approval.
It had always felt like they were short of credits, even with the monthly allowance Stella got from their stupid mysterious benefactor. Well, short of credits for everything, unless it was related to some form of education or training.
Isabella thrived. Sienna didn’t.
Isabella was perfect. Sienna was the misfit.
They fought like crazy.
As she grew older, Sienna started to find the skybox cloying. She wasn’t interested in AI, or virtual gaming, or Network entertainment. She would go out onto the streets and disappear for hours, much to Stella’s anger. She would simply wander—through dingy back alleys and busy markets, past public housing blocks and through frost-burned, neglected parks.
“It’s bloody dangerous,” Stella would yell when she got home. “One day, you’re going to get abducted by traffickers, and it will be your own bloody stupid fault. Why can’t you just stay home and study and watch the Networks like Isabella? I know you’ll never get an A-rank score, but you can at least try and pass so you don’t end up on the Minimum.”