Defying the General (Primarian Mates Book 4)

by Maddie Taylor

  Even annoyed, she was lovely, with her pouty lips and the spark in her brown eyes, which were beautiful, though he preferred them with flecks of blue and green. And the way she crossed her arms, which plumped up her breasts so the upper curves swelled above the scooped neckline of her dress, something he felt sure she wasn't aware of, or she would have stopped, and blushed scarlet. The mental picture made him want her again, as though he was going through the hunger after their first joining, all over again.

  “I wasn't sure I should believe the rumors you brought your Lana home, but judging by the look on your face they were true.” Trask looked up to find Ram standing at the bottom of the steps leading to the capital center waiting for him. When he came alongside him, the Master Warrior who topped him by an inch and outweighed him by about thirty pounds—all of it muscle—slapped him hard on the back. “About time you two came to your senses.”

  He made it sound as though their reconciliation wasn't born of necessity, which was sobering. “Make no mistake, Lana came to her senses because she faced a one-way ticket back to Earth. Things between us are better, though hardly resolved.”

  “You mean she hasn’t told you what made her flee?” Ram frowned. “I know it wasn’t out of longing for her homeworld or because of her career, both ridiculous excuses. Eryn called it, right off. What she called it I won't repeat, however.”

  Trask grunted, though at another time, he would have laughed. Ram’s fiery-haired mate wasn’t known for her verbal restraint. “She hasn’t told me why she bolted like she did, not yet, but I’ll find out. She is already beginning to weaken under my interrogation techniques.”

  Ram’s eyes flared before he grinned. “I was going to recommend setting the helper to position two and paddling her butt until she confessed, but it sounds like you have things well in hand. I give her a week before she not only weakens, but crumbles.”

  “I don’t know. She’s stubborn.”

  “I’ll send Eryn and Cierra around for a visit. My mate can be very persuasive.”

  “Lana would enjoy that. She is lonely, and has missed her friends, especially your mate and your daughter.”

  They had arrived at Kerr’s private residence by then and met Lothar in the corridor. They were shown in promptly by Janus, the Princep’s steward, and led to his office. Seated at the small conference table with another warrior, Kerr had already started the meeting without them, or so it appeared at first glance.

  The other man was a 3D holographic image of Commander Roth who joined them by satellite relay from Earth. From the swivel chair to their Princep’s right, he spun to greet them as they walked in. “I leave for a few months and you shirkers start coming in late for meetings?”

  Lothar, a stickler for promptness, checked the clock. “We’re five minutes early, Commander.”

  “Not when I’m the first to arrive from galaxies away and have good news to share.”

  “Stop grinning like an infant on his birth anniversary,” Lothar shot back. “And tell us your news.”

  “Funny you should say that, my friend. Maggie is breeding and we’re coming home.”

  “That’s more than good news, my friend,” Kerr said, smiling as broadly as Roth. “At the rate we’re going, we’ll have our population doubled in no time.” His leader’s troubled eyes shifted his way. “Trask, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

  He shook his head. “If it is meant to be for me, it will happen.”

  “But I don’t mean to rub salt in the wound with our happiness.”

  “Nonsense, I can be pleased my friends are having success where I am not. My congratulations, Roth.” To shift the subject away from him, he added further, “When can we expect you to return?”

  “We leave in a week.”

  “So quickly?”

  “I want her home when the baby comes.”

  They all nodded in understanding. Primarian medical technology far exceeded Earth’s capabilities.

  “Who will you appoint in your stead?”

  “Kanei. He has been with me since the beginning, has the trust of the human leadership, and is up to the task. Besides, there is a female who has caught his eye, so I don’t think I could pry him away from this crumbling rock if I wanted to.” The commander’s face turned serious. “Things are getting too dangerous here.”

  “From the protestors?” Trask asked.

  “Violent incidents continue, but I meant the planet. I wasn’t exaggerating about the crumbling part. The Earth has become more volatile in the short time since you left. There was an 8.0 quake on the Eastern Seaboard, with significant damage in New York City, and a tidal wave flooded the New Jersey coastline. The weather outbreaks can’t be called such any more since they are a constant. I don’t think it’s safe for our people to remain much longer. I’m leaving so soon because I won’t have Maggie, or our child, at risk. And I’ve been away from my command too damn long.”

  Kerr glanced at Trask. “We have to step up construction.”

  “I placed a call to Mr. Kincaid before this one,” Roth informed them. “It’s unfortunate about the mine explosion, and the problems for relocation it poses, but those of us here on Earth don’t have time to wait. I’ve already put an accelerated transition plan in motion. More resources are in transit, additional construction crews, and temporary housing has been sent. By my guess, the people here have a year, two at the most before a global catastrophic event takes place. The allied countries have commissioned a dozen more ships. And if Kincaid can make it happen, we’ll start transitioning nonessential residents next month.”

  “It doesn’t sound like Mr. Kincaid has any choice but to be ready,” Kerr said grimly. “We’ll send more resources.”

  “We have another problem,” Lothar said into the silence. “There is something strange happening in the colony.”

  “Since when?” Trask demanded. “We just left there.”

  “Yes, and since then, three humans have gone missing. One was located outside of town—dead.”

  A cold knot formed in the pit of Trask's stomach. “My sister is still there.”

  Lothar’s gaze met his and he warned in an ominous tone, “Bring her home, General, or double her guard. I don’t like the smell of this.”

  Kerr looked at Trask. “I know you returned only a few days ago—”

  “But I need to go back.” he repeated, then cursed under his breath. “I won’t be able to bring Lana with me.”

  “That isn’t a problem, because you aren’t fated, right?” Lothar asked.

  Everyone, even Roth’s holograph shot the insensitive man an irritated look.

  “Says the warrior who hasn’t experienced a separation from his mate for over a year,” Ram drawled, the only one other than Trask who knew how difficult it was to endure.

  “Oh,” his second-in-command muttered. “That’s right. Sorry.”

  Kerr shook his head while frowning at the younger man. “We have a new group of warrior trainees beginning in a few days, don’t we, Ram? With the general on assignment, I’m sure Lothar will be happy to step in and assist in his stead. Trask is usually there often the first few weeks, correct?”

  “Yes, and he told me just this morning he wanted to be even more involved. Leading by example, he said, and training right along with them—daily. Lothar, as his second, will be the perfect replacement.”

  It was Lothar who wore the irritated expression now. Perhaps his Princep’s lesson would remind him to think before speaking next time. The others chuckled at his expense, except Trask, who was already heading for the door. He had arrangements to make and a mate who was a magnet for trouble to keep safe. How he’d do that while half a sector away, he hadn’t a clue.

  THE LAST TIME SHE’D lain in this spot, on her back, staring up through the skylight in Trask’s giant master bedroom, the wispy, feather-like clouds in the vivid pinkish-purple sky had been a source of endless fascination. Now, they barely registered, her brain too busy sifting through the string of events wh
ich had brought her to this point in her life—a prisoner in what was her new home.

  Trask believed the Purists who were behind the North Mine explosion on Primaria one year ago, were also behind the Terra Nova disaster. The investigation back then led to arrests, but the architect behind the plot and the leader of their dissident faction had never been identified. The Purists implicated were amazingly stubborn in their silence, even when faced with the harshest of punishments—exile. The threat of banishment from your people—to never, ever be allowed to return was dire enough to make Lana tremble in her bones, and more importantly, comply with something she’d run from for over a year.

  She had to wonder at the Purist’s motivation to risk it. Was it out of loyalty to a man or group of men, or perhaps they didn’t know who the mastermind was, and their devotion was stringently to their cause. As xenophobic as it seemed, and as shocking as it was to Kerr and his leaders, it came as no surprise to those from Earth—where bigotry and hatred were hardly new concepts. And even if they had managed to squelch a mass rebellion, overt acts of aggression in a string of targeted incidents continued.

  It started with Eva getting shot, but Lana excluded her from the pattern, since she’d been swept up with the escape attempt like the rest of the crew, and the shooter was a jealous woman acting out of spite and desperation. Next, came Maggie, implicated in the poisoning of a ship full of warriors, including her mate. It had come close to tearing them apart, but she ended up saving them in the end earned everyone’s respect and trust, which must have ticked off the conspirators.

  Eryn had been the focus of multiple efforts to keep her away from Ram. Falsified test scores, tampered pregnancy tests, and an attempt on her life in the hospital. Later, she’d been manipulated into returning to Primaria while her warrior mate was away, to stand trial on charges of sabotaging the mine explosion. It turned out to be a ruse to get her off the planet where she was kidnapped by a race of alien parasites who would have enslaved her and used her in a manner too obscene to imagine.

  These plots had been foiled because her teammates were badass women and their warriors were equally capable. The trend, however, seemed to be continuing with her and these ridiculous charges. But why? Already estranged from Trask, if the intent was to widen the chasm between them, it had failed miserably.

  The treaty was a success, however, in both the integration of humans into Primarian society and the founding of the colony. Happy mates existed on both sides and they had made a good start toward their goal of repopulation. And, even though the mine explosion was a backset, progress on Terra Nova continued. At this late date, what was the purpose of these schemes?

  There had to be a common thread they were missing which would identify who was behind it all. Unfortunately, she’d been gone from Primaria too long to have all the relevant facts. She needed to talk to someone who’d been here all along to help piece the puzzle together—one of the other original eight. Mailynn, Krager’s mate, or even better, Eva, the Prima.

  But how, when she had guards at her front and rear gates?

  An idea popped into her head.

  Climbing to her feet, she crossed to the window. The fogged glass turned clear when she waved her hand over the sensor; another pass over the side panel made them slide open. Leaning out, she looked down and gulped hard. She’d snuck out of plenty windows as a teen, but never from so high up. Heights were so not her favorite thing. She leaned out farther scanned for other lower options, but because of the vaulted ceiling in the room below this one, there weren’t any.

  As she debated the lunacy of not only scaling the wall to get down, but doing so again to get back in, she chewed on her lip. Because she was desperate to clear her name, and get out from this cloud of suspicion, and further, with two days of being home alone doing nothing stretched out before her, she made her decision—to go for it.

  After an extensive search for rope and coming up empty, and a fire escape rope not conveniently available, she resorted to a cliched, yet tried-and-true method—knotted sheets. He only had two sets. The fitted bottom sheet, which was made of a thin, soft mesh that allowed the autoregulating bed to sense the sleepers body temperature, wasn’t sturdy enough for her purposes. This left her the two top sheets. She felt a twinge of guilt as she tore the first long strip. More could be made in the replicator in a jiffy, she rationalized, but still felt a tingle in her hind parts as she imagined Trask’s response if he learned what she’d done. But he was gone until late tomorrow. She’d visit her friends, ask her questions, hopefully gain some insight into what the heck was going on, and be back with the mess cleaned up long before his return. And she rationalized further, this could have been avoided if the man had taken two minutes out of their busy sex life to get her a transmitter.

  Okay, he had a lot of time to make up for, but he couldn’t stop thinking about sex for two minutes? That excuse wouldn’t fly if he learned of this, she just had to hope he wouldn’t.

  While ripping more strips and knotting them tightly together, Lana dredged up a prayer from her memories, a bedtime rhyme from her early childhood which didn’t apply at all but was all she could think of at the moment. After reciting it, she tacked on the most important part at the end. “And please, God, don’t let me land on my fool head.”

  With another quick peek to make sure the yard separating Trask’s residence from the next was still empty, she tossed out her makeshift rope.

  As she watched it unravel, Lana muttered, “Good grief.” It came up short, the end dangling above the ground not reaching it. She’d still have a drop. From this angle, even leaning from side to side, she couldn’t tell how much exactly, but it was enough to make the butterflies in her stomach start to dance. Although not too much for her to abort the whole crazy scheme. She had a mystery to solve.

  Gathering her skirt to mid-thigh, Lana lifted one leg over the sill. Then, with her eyes closed, she grabbed onto her lifeline and threw her other leg over, lowering herself out the window. As she descended, hand over hand, she didn’t imagine falling, her upper body strength and her weight—still below her average—were one thing in her favor. Instead, she tried to gather her nerve for what was yet to come, literally at the end of her rope.

  “Remember your basic training,” she whispered. “Soft knees and roll.”

  Except she barely passed the obstacle course.

  “Lana?”

  The faint call from deep inside the house paralyzed her momentarily.

  What was he doing home?

  Trask called her again, louder.

  Unsure what to do, she hung there on the side of the house, halfway down. Did she climb back up before he noticed or go down and act like she’d only stepped out to take a bit of air. The former would require strength that she wasn’t sure she possessed, and the latter would mean she’d somehow gotten passed the guards. Crap! She’d really stepped in a pile of it this time. In either case, she had to decide fast before he noticed the open window with the knotted sheet streaming out.

  Too late came the next instant. The sound of boots thudding rapidly on the floor preceded her name in a thunderous roar above her head. “Lana! By the Maker! What are you doing!”

  Escaping, obviously—but she didn’t dare say that.

  “Get back in here, now,” he ordered, the roar replaced by a growl.

  She hesitated a half second then decided, since she’d been caught red-handed, it was best to do as she was told. But her arms were shaking, and when she tried to pull herself up, she couldn’t pry her fingers off the homemade rope. “Um, Trask, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think my arms have given out.”

  “Let go. Remus will catch you.”

  “Who?”

  “Me.” A deep masculine voice rumbled below her. “You can trust me not to drop you, Trask’s mate.”

  She looked down and caught a glimpse of a dark head far below her swaying skirt. The butterflies of before now felt like a flock of angry birds.
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “What do you mean, no thank you?” Trask demanded. “This is hardly the time for games.”

  “I’m not playing a game,” she snapped. “I’m afraid of heights.”

  Silence greeted her statement. A moment later, his anger hit her like a wave. “Then why would you ever consider climbing out a third-floor window, let alone do it?”

  “Yelling at me isn’t helping,” she shot back. “And to answer your question, I didn’t realize it would be quite this bad until I got here.”

  He uttered a muffled curse she’d never heard before. “You can’t hang there all day, or you surely will fall. I’ll pull you up.”

  That meant going higher. “No! Give me a moment to get up the nerve, and I’ll drop down.”

  “The nerve, huh? What were you going to do when you got to the end in the first place without someone to catch you?”

  She hesitated, even while suspended twenty feet up. “Obviously, I hadn’t thought this all the way through.”

  “By the Maker, woman—”

  “Stop fussing at me while I’m hanging on for dear life!”

  “Whose fault is that?” he barked.

  “Mine, entirely,” she shot back, “but you’re not making this any easier.”

  “Pardon me, General. Perhaps you should wait to, uh, debate this with your mate until she is safe on the ground. She’s trembling.”

  “Remus is correct. I’m pulling you up; hold on tight.”

  The rope moved one jerky foot then two, and soon he was hauling her up more quickly. Suddenly, her momentum stopped with a lurch, and a loud rip.

  “Stop,” she squealed. Looking up, she saw her sheet rope had snagged on a sharp edge of the masonry.

  “It’s going to tear.”

  “You have no choice but to go down, paulova. Remus, get ready to catch her when she lets go.” He cleared his throat. “You’ll have to look up to do so, warrior.”