by Lauren Dane
The file indicated the informant would be in possession of a lot of important information about Fardelle’s smuggling of weapons and terrorists into Federation territory and other tactical intelligence. But that usually meant a trip to the Edge, not fully into Imperial territory. Did he just say . . . ?
“Passenger? We’ll be extracting the informant as well?” This was a job far better suited to one of his special teams, wasn’t it?
“Yes. The last packet we received is incendiary. We need to move right away to get her out. If she has even half of what our contact indicates, this could tip the balance in our favor considerably.”
“Her?”
“Carina Fardelle. Ciro Fardelle’s daughter.”
Well now. That was interesting. That upped the risk factor immensely. But he understood the choice to send them in for her now. A high-profile target like that would be better off in their hands.
He could get in and out on his own with a minimum of damage, but dragging along some spoiled princess would add a great deal of complication to the process. He made a mental note to bring some of the tranquilizer he’d used on one of his most recent missions. Just a quick administration with a minuscule needle, and the target would be far more malleable within a breath or two. He wondered why she was giving them this information. Wondered who this Carina Fardelle was on the inside. Would she be a spy? A double agent? A whiny, weak mess of a woman he’d have to drag around? What motivated someone like her to do something so drastic?
“The intel she has will be embedded. Only safe release here with proper codes will get the data free. He’s gathering materials, gentlemen. Gathering materials for what purpose we don’t know, but it involves a lab and possible testing in a public place. That’s all I’ve got for now, but that’s more than enough.”
Daniel and Andrei got very still but said nothing. Ellis made the choice to have them go in; they’d go. Whatever this information was, it was important enough to risk the trip. Daniel believed that implicitly.
“She’s given us intel before. The mother has, too. We can trust them. To a point. Daniel, I want you to head up the mission. You’ll be her contact and get her out of Fardelle’s compound and back here. We have some very good inside information regarding the schematics of the compound, specifically the living quarters and Fardelle’s work spaces via our friend on the Edge. It’s been sent to your secured comm. Pick a team to provide support for extraction if necessary. This is of top-level importance. I don’t have to tell you this information she possesses can prevent a war. I want you on this as soon as possible. Phantom Level clearance and license to eradicate all impediments to your success. All resources are, as always, at your command.”
Daniel stood and gave a small bow; Andrei did the same. Phantom Level meant he could destroy, kill, bribe, kidnap, whatever he had to do. Ellis hadn’t needed to say it; Daniel always had that clearance, though the saying reinforced the importance and gravity of the mission and the ability to plan it however he needed to. He liked the freedom but hated the possibilities. He tucked the folders into his case and began to plan an extraction that would either save the Federation or get him and his men killed.
Daniel left, not needing to say more. He’d go over all the details and would consult Ellis as was necessary. They were admonished to be careful and were dismissed. Daniel told Andrei to round up their team and have them meet back at their offices after his last class of the day.
He took a train back to his flat after the class, thinking through the contingencies as he traveled. It would be risky, but with the way things were on the Edge and at the Frontier, sneaking across wouldn’t be that difficult. The biggest challenge would be getting her out with the hounds of all seven hells on their tail. It would be dependent on what this Carina was like. She could slow him down and get them caught, or be halfway useful. That sort of uncertainty wasn’t anything he liked, but it was quite frequently part of what he did.
By rote, he headed back out, a kit bag on his shoulder. First to work, then to play and shed the part of himself he only could with his family at a name day dinner later that evening.
He’d done this job a long time. It had become his life, and he had no regrets. It gave him a direction. It made him a good man, even when he doubted himself at times. He was on the right side. He was good at it, he made a difference, and at the end of the day, what else did a man have?
A family.
Unlike Roman, Daniel didn’t come home to a house filled with the chaos of children and a wife. That’s what was missing at the end of every day, and the older he got, the more he realized how much of a difference that connection made in a life.
Chapter 4
Needing to keep busy and not think about how it’d been a standard week and no one had shown up to get her and the information, Carina had taken to using the passageways more often. Just to be able to wander and do so unobserved.
She could be nervous and jittery and who could see her?
Thinking she’d stop in and visit with the animals in the stables, she headed down that way, pausing at the cleft where she’d need to exit and realizing there were people just on the other side.
She could see them, partially, and moved to pull herself back into the passageway to go in another direction. But a sound stopped her, even as it made her heart pound in her chest. A sound, a muted gasp laden with desire so deep that even Carina, who’d never actually felt that sort of thing, understood what it was.
Her fingers dug into the rock as she pressed herself into the small crevice, keeping out of sight but able to see them better.
A man and a woman, young, barely into adulthood. Standing in the far corner of the loft, the man’s back to her as they looked at one another. The woman’s hands slid under the hem of his simple workman’s jersey. Her face was tipped up, looking at him with raw yearning all over her features. He touched her face, sliding his fingers down her throat, and she made the sound again.
It tore through Carina’s belly, tightened her nipples and brought a flush to her face. What would it feel like to want to look at someone like that? To open yourself up to your very core for someone else that way?
It was more than the way he brushed the backs of his fingers over the curve of her breasts as they heaved up and over the low neckline of her blouse. More than the darkened shadow of her nipples and the way a gasp seemed to rip from the woman’s lips as her lover moved lower, flicking against them with this thumbs.
His hands would be rough, work hardened.
The woman arched into him as his hand slid into the blouse and freed one of her breasts. Carina’s heart threatened to burst through her chest. She’d seen all manner of things as she’d traveled around and kept her eyes open, but never so close and so totally intimate. This couple had a connection so raw and tangible, Carina felt it from her hiding place. Felt the charge between them. It was more intimate than if he’d thrust himself into her from behind right in full view. The man craved touching his woman, and she clearly couldn’t get enough, either.
Carina held a hand at her own throat as she watched, not able to move, even to touch herself. Their magic held her still as she watched, envy burning through her belly. He spoke in the woman’s ear, and she laughed, low and sort of sultry. Then she grabbed the front of his pants and pulled them open, sliding her hand down into his underpants.
And then he made a sound. An answering sound to hers, but his was unmistakably male. Low, nearly a growl, and Carina had to let out the breath she’d held, but it was shaky.
She wanted this. Not with that man of course, but with someone who was hers alone and who looked at her, not with the sick greed Hartley Alem did, but as if she was so beautiful and desirable he couldn’t stop himself from staring and wanting to touch her.
He’d already begun to lay the woman down in the loft when a clatter sounded below, and they both sat up, pulling themselves back together. Shouts sounded out, calling names, so Carina supposed someone was looking for the man
. Hurriedly, he leaned down to kiss her as she tried not to laugh and reached up to fix his hair.
They left, and Carina continued to stand there for some time afterward, feeling nothing but loss.
Carina barely kept back a shudder of revulsion. She hated the touch of Hartley’s hand on her forearm. Or her back, even a shoulder. Constantly on her, wanting to take up all the space in every room until she had no place to hide. It drained her, made her lose hope. What she’d have as his bride was not what she’d witnessed just hours before. This wasn’t an acceptable substitute for that. She had no idea how women could stand this sort of thing, not if they knew what those two in the loft had was possible.
Her sorry excuse for a fiancé had taken to arriving every single afternoon, and she’d been ordered to attend to him under the guise of courtly flirting. Her mother had been sure to always be present as was the expectation. It was an older way to deal with courtship, but her father was old-fashioned. Enough that her mother had easily convinced him that it befitted his position to serve as example to his people, to hold up the old ways. Thank the gods he was easily led by his ego at times. It lengthened the process considerably, giving Carina time to find a way out of marrying that monster if they didn’t come for her.
Of course, the monster himself was agitated by this wait and the constant supervision. He had continually tried to get Carina alone. Her mother was smarter, and it wasn’t as if Hartley could complain to Carina’s father that all the supervision kept him from divesting his daughter of her virgin status before the nuptials had been completed.
Status. Ha! She’d have loved to have been able to have the chance to be divested of her virginity long ago.
Since she’d reached sexual maturity she’d been watched closely. Except for those little forays through the secret passageways there’d been no opportunity to even try to have sex with anyone but herself. She couldn’t bring anyone back there, or she’d risk exposing the only private way to move around undetected.
Even if she had found a way to meet someone for a secret assignation, no male worth having sex with would have dared it. Her father had people executed for far less serious offenses than fucking his daughter. The most exciting thing she’d ever shared with a boy was a kiss, and that had been deliciously fleeting.
Still, at that moment she was quite relieved for all that history. Hartley wanted to breach her womanhood. She shuddered at the phrase, the one he’d just moments ago uttered in her ear, his disgusting, hot breath on her skin. She may not have been an expert at love play, but she had the feeling those men who’d use the phrase breach her womanhood would be terrible sex partners. This man seemed to like that she’d been uncomfortable, which only made her want to vomit more.
“We’re having a delegation from some of the outer ’Verses this evening. Carina, please do join us so that we may announce your upcoming nuptials.” Her father would naturally be pleased by this news. It would give him the opportunity to be worshipped and celebrated.
She, by contrast, was not pleased. This meant she’d have to spend interminable hours with Alem as he pawed at her and made lewd comments about her womanhood to people under his breath.
Hartley gave a hearty laugh as he petted her hand and wrist. “Yes, sweet flower, do so that I may show off the bounty of my future bride to all.”
Sweet flower? She managed to smile even as she wanted to sneer. She’d never met anyone who actually spoke like that. There was no way around it, so she nodded. Where was her rescue? It had been a standard week already! If they didn’t hurry, she’d have to marry and consummate with this beast, or throw herself out a window to escape it.
What she’d seen earlier that day only made the vision of her future worse. Dread numbed her fingertips. She was twenty-three standard years old. A virgin. Unmarried. Trapped in a house with her mother and her insane father who’d sold her off to a crazy, violent man bent on breaching her whatever. It was a waste of time to feel sorry for herself. She couldn’t solve anything that way, but right then she veered perilously close to self-pity.
She needed to begin to face the fact that help may not arrive until after the marriage. She’d keep an eye on the door for her rescuers, but she began to try to figure out what to do if they didn’t show.
Mortimer Silas entered the Fardelle compound with an entourage and a well-practiced walk. He was a fancy man, and this place was . . . not. Caelinus was provincial for a supposed capital ’Verse. And hot. Gods, it was ridiculously hot, and he could not understand why Fardelle would choose to settle the home ’Verse here in a place with not just one relentless sun, but two. It had slowed their travel down as they could find no one willing to make the journey from the portal to the compound at full day. They’d been stuck in a receiving room until the suns began to set. The heat made his hair less attractive than normal, made him sweat. No one looked handsome covered in sweat.
He had no desire to spend a moment longer than necessary here. He’d pay his respects, gather his due and get out. Get back home and be finished with this trip.
Unfortunately, he had not anticipated the dinner being held in honor of the visiting ministers from other Imperial ’Verses. The last thing he wanted to do after the trial of just getting to Caelinus was to sit around eating horrible food, rubbing elbows with people he’d rather kill than drink with. It was supposed to be a brief meet and greet, bow and scrape thing. He hoped he had the right ensemble for the dinner. He’d beg off and keep to his rooms or find a way to leave early, but it was clearly mandatory, and this was Ciro Fardelle, after all.
He found the reality of Ciro Fardelle far more absurd than he could have imagined. A tyrant was one thing; a stupid tyrant seemingly wedded to dragging them into a war with the Federation for no apparent reason and with no chance of winning was another. He was a fool, and why they all suffered this one for so long wasn’t something he understood.
Mortimer was a man who appreciated details, so he kept a close eye on things as they were brought from the guest quarters into the main hall where the family lived and where Fardelle had his offices and receiving chamber. Gleaming black surfaces did please the eye and give a grand feel to the space. If Fardelle didn’t have more delusions of power than taste, the place would be far more pleasant. Everything about the compound shouted of trying too hard.
The windows overlooking the secured courtyard were large and tinted to keep the heat out but to let in the light. Plasglass, he surmised. There was fortification on the outer walls and windows facing the town, surrounding dunes and vistas off in the distance toward the portal. Armed guards patrolled in thick formation, on foot, in vehicles and on horseback. Mortimer watched, took in their rather obvious timing, as they all waited for Fardelle to swan around the room like someone who mattered.
Once they’d finally made it through the receiving line of lesser nobles and lackeys to their supreme commander, Mortimer was able to get a clear look at Carina Fardelle. Her mother and Ciro’s primary wife, Esta, sat with her at the far dais.
Esta was small in stature and in presence. Once reputed to have been a great beauty, she kept her eyes down most of the time, her hands clasped in her lap as she perched in the space next to her husband. The second wife sat a bit lower, and where Esta had been small, Aila looked defeated. This was not a woman who’d schemed her way into Ciro’s bed for the power and position of giving him an heir. This was a girl younger than his daughter who’d been plucked from her home and given to the supreme commander to do with what he wished. Mortimer found that . . . tawdry. Once a man settled, he should stay that way. Women were not chattel; they were precious and deserved to be honored, not demeaned. Fardelle was as poor a man as he was a leader.
They’d been informed that the evening’s events were also a celebration of the betrothal of Carina Fardelle and Hartley Alem. Alem was a lump of a man with a heart as dark as any he’d ever known. What would Carina see in such a man? Was she like her mother? Aila? One of countless females across the ’Verses whose
lives were simply a matter of following direction from the males in their lives? He looked at her again, contrasted against her mother, and thought not.
Carina was different from every woman in that room. Cool. Regal. Hair as pale as moonlight bound up in some ridiculously complicated hairstyle one of her retinue created for her. She looked soft, but her eyes were hard. Despite his unease about what her motivations were and the kind of person she most likely was, there was no denying her beauty. She was not petite like her mother; instead, she was long and lithe. He imagined she’d walk like music played in her head. And she was set to marry Hartley Alem, who couldn’t keep his gaze off his future bride, though, to Mortimer’s eyes, she did not share that enthusiasm. Or maybe she did, and that’s how she showed it.
He shook his head and squared his shoulders. Whatever the case, her marital status was none of his concern. What she was like, who she was, was not his business. He was not there for that.
His man adjusted his cape as Mortimer discreetly checked to be sure his rings looked just so. The gems needed to catch the light to be their most attractive. He’d waxed down his mustache just before arriving, so he knew that would look most fetching as well. If he had to be bored and tossed in with villains and idiots, at the very least, he could look good doing it.
“Supreme Commander Fardelle, may I present Mortimer Silas, the ministerial representative from Caldara.” The sergeant at arms bowed, and Mortimer stood forward, bowing deeply himself. It wasn’t quite to his knees—Fardelle didn’t deserve it—but it made Mortimer look regal, or so he’d always thought when he looked into the mirrors in his home.
“It is a great pleasure to meet you, Supreme Commander.” Mortimer used his best, most oily voice to soothe the man before him.
Hartley Alem stood between them as Fardelle nodded and moved on.
“Of course it is. We all share that great honor. Mortimer, I’m told your delegation was waylaid earlier on the way here by brigands. I trust all is well?”