TALON (RIBUS 7 Book 4)

by Shae Mills

  Suddenly, she turned around and looked directly at him. Lakit averted his gaze.

  Chelan smiled to herself. It was the first time that any of the men had shown any humility, and it amused her. Then she returned her attention to her shower, closing her eyes and letting the icy water flow over her. She no longer cared that she was observed all the time. In fact, she no longer cared about much. Considering her latest ordeal, she was strangely bereft of almost most all of her emotions. She supposed that that should be perplexing in of itself, but as with everything else, she just didn’t care.

  Lakit looked back at her. Her satin white skin prickled in the cold, and her dark nipples stood out prominently on her shapely breasts. Then he gazed at the soft light hair that concealed her womanhood, and his loins ached, the intensity of his unexpected feelings causing him to flush.

  Finally, Chelan stepped from the shower and began drying herself. Lakit could no longer help himself. He walked up to her and waited for her to finish.

  Chelan stopped and held the towel in front of her. She studied him, his desirous eyes not unlike those she had seen so many times before.

  Suddenly, an uncharacteristic thought lanced through her mind. Maybe the way to dispatch of Talon was through sex. She knew that the men of Iceanea never stooped to such tactics, and maybe these men also did not. But her hatred for her captor ran so deep, she would try anything to kill him. For all she knew, Talon hated her just as much as she did him, but he had always made it abundantly clear that she was to come to him for all her needs. Now, she would find out just how far-reaching that demand was. Her first chance to find out would begin by exploiting Lakit. And thus her plan was born.

  She didn’t want to use the man she had come to respect out of necessity, but her determination to hurt Talon, to find a potential weak spot in him, consumed her, and now she had her chance. She stepped up to Lakit, rising onto her toes. She kissed his willing lips and heard him moan. She offered him her tongue, his immediate acceptance driving her new strategy forward. She felt his hands surround her waist, and she stretched up to him like a sinuous kitten, allowing the towel to drop.

  He threw his head back, his dark mane cascading down his back. He needed air, but what he needed more was release. His hands travelled to her breasts, and instantly, he was on fire. He clenched his jaw. His fingers had traversed her during his exams, but this was different. This was pure, wanton desire. He needed her entirely, all of her. His caress intensified and finally, his hands began to rove down her body, seeking her most intimate feminine warmth.

  “Lakit!” came the stern command.

  The warrior whirled around to face his seething Commander. Chelan scooped up her towel and wrapped herself with it.

  “You take your care too far, Doctor. I would advise you to stick to your training in the future!”

  Lakit nodded, and an abrupt hand signal from Talon sent him fleeing. Chelan tried to catch her breath. Talon stood firm, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes ablaze. “You use my man,” he snarled.

  “For what purpose?” she shot back. She grabbed her uniform and then strode past him.

  But Talon caught her by the arm and wrenched her back to him. “Do not play games with me, little one.”

  “I play no games with you,” she sneered, the lie leaving her tongue easily. “You deprive me of all whom I love, but you cannot deny me masculine comfort. If you have forgotten, I shared my body in the beds of the Empire’s greatest Warlords and enjoyed every moment of it. I will not become a eunuch simply because you wish it!” And she tried to twist away.

  But Talon’s fingers dug into her arm. His eyes burned with a fire stoked by ire. “First, you will do whatever I tell you! And second, as I told you before…” His fierceness was suddenly tempered by a sinister grin. “You will learn to come to me for everything.”

  Chelan gave her arm a tremendous jerk, finally dislodging his grip. “It will be a cold day in hell before I seek you for sexual favors.” And she stormed off.

  As soon as she entered her small room, she smiled to herself. Her luck had been phenomenal. As distasteful as it was, she had surmised that she would have to engage Lakit numerous times before Talon stumbled upon them, but this had been beyond all her expectations. Talon had witnessed them on their first encounter, and she had not even lain with Lakit. Now, Talon knew she was ready, the trauma of the birth over, and his response to the situation had been perfect. Her task now was to play on his predator instincts; his desire to dominate and manipulate her in every way would soon be his downfall. She would be the black widow, spinning a deadly web of deceit, luring him any way she could. If she could make him vulnerable to her, even through sex, then she would do it, no matter how repugnant the act. And what better way to entice a predator than to dangle something in front of him he could not have. Spurning him was the first step, killing him her final goal.

  Suddenly, she whirled about, her thoughts interrupted by Talon’s explosive entry. He strode up to her, his eyes glowing in the dim light. He stared down at her. “If you try anything again with Lakit, I will have him removed from your service. Is that understood?”

  “Is it Lakit who bothers you or the act itself?” she asked, taunting him. “Because if it is the act and you remove him, I shall simply find another.”

  Talon straightened and sucked in a breath. “While you are here, you serve my purposes. You are my prisoner, and I do not supply lovers to my captives!”

  Chelan turned away. “We will see,” she challenged.

  Talon grabbed her, wrenching her to him and shaking her roughly. “You dare to disobey me, little one?”

  “And what will you do to me?” she shouted. “You have killed Fremma and ripped my son from my body. Now, you seek to destroy Dar and Korba!” She glared at him. “There is nothing you can do to me now, or ever, that will punish me more. You hold no more power over me!” And she lashed out, slapping him hard across the face.

  Both were stunned, Talon by her catlike speed, Chelan that she had been able to strike him. Talon took a step back. Chelan watched him, surprised by his lack of immediate retaliation. Then he pointed a finger at her. “Your days are numbered, little one. As we speak, RIBUS 8 and 10 are succumbing to my forces. Your Warlords fight fiercely for you, but they are no match for me. The next time we meet, it will be to inform you of the Empire’s annihilation. After that, I will have no need for you, and I will come here personally to strangle you to death with my own hands.” He whirled away from her and left.

  Chelan collapsed onto the bed. With a few simple words, he had crushed her, and suddenly, she did not care about his eradication anymore. Korba and Dar were dying because of her presence on the enemy ship. Talon’s powerful hands about her neck squeezing the life from her seemed an act of mercy she would gladly accept, oblivion an oasis in a sea of devastation.

  She was so benumbed, she could not even cry. If Talon succeeded, there would be no Empire, only his world. And with Earth lost to her, she found that she sought death. She had already entered purgatory. But then her eyes lit one last time. She would not allow Talon his one ultimate pleasure. He wanted her to come to him for everything, but now she sought to deprive him his final victory, that of her death.

  She managed, with grim determination, to stand and strode into the washroom. There she picked up the glass Lakit had left her. Shielding her eyes, she smashed it into the sink. Then she selected a large shard, returned to the bed, and sat down. She cleared away her tangled hair and focused on her wrists. She had to do it right. She had to be deadly effective, and she had to do it now, before anyone attended her. Taking the glass, she began carving deep lines down her forearms and into her wrists.

  She grimaced at the pain, but it served to strengthen her convictions. It was perfect: this would be her final act of defiance. But more than that, without proof of her life, there was a chance that Korba and Dar would succeed. Talon had to be in touch with them, and somehow he had sent them both proof of her captivity and
her well-being. Knowing she was alive was how Talon maintained the upper hand. But with her demise, Talon could no longer supply the verification that rendered her Warlords inert. With her death, they could lash out mercilessly.

  Bright red splashed out onto the white towel that surrounded her. With both wrists looking like tattered cloth, she pushed to her feet and began to walk, forcing her heart to pump out her life fluid. The whole time she prayed that Lakit stayed away. Finally, she became dizzy, and she staggered. She caught herself and walked some more. Then a comforting coolness began to invade her limbs, and her breathing became labored. Slumping against the wall, she sagged down and laid her head back.

  Then she smiled, her success seeming imminent. “You bastard,” she whispered. “I come to you no more.” And her world went black.

  Chapter 8

  Lakit stepped through the doors with the food tray and was immediately assaulted by the thick smell of blood. He recoiled and dropped the tray, the containers clattering across the floor. He ran to the ashen creature coated with brilliant red. He immediately lowered her head to the floor and grabbed her oozing wrists tightly. When he had stemmed the weak flow of blood, he hit a security button.

  Within moments, guards flooded in through the doors. “Get Ven in here!” Lakit yelled. “Tell him to prepare for surgery and to bring a blood replacement. Then get Talon!” The guards left.

  Only a few moments passed before Ven flew through the doors with his equipment, skidding to a halt and nearly slipping on the blood-drenched floor. “Shit,” he muttered as he moved to insert a needle into Chelan’s neck.

  Lakit continued to squeeze her wrists and then looked up just as Talon rounded the corner into the room. The Warlord turned up the room lights and hustled toward the men. Then he sat on the bed in silence, watching as the two doctors worked.

  Ven allowed the bags of fluids to float, suspended by their own antigravity fields and then prepared the surgical equipment. Lakit waited until much of the first bag had flowed into her artery before releasing her arms. Then each doctor began the long process of cauterizing bleeders, repairing veins, and fusing flesh. Both worked quickly, Ven taking the odd moment out to check the IVs.

  Talon was mute, not sure what he felt for the fallen alien. He was furious at her attempt at self-destruction, but his anger was tempered by something more basal that he could not pinpoint.

  Time passed, and finally, Lakit sat back and stretched his neck. Ven injected Chelan with a long-acting anesthetic and picked her up. Talon rose, moving out of the way as Ven laid her on the bed. Lakit stood and began cleansing the blood from his hands with a towel. He glanced at Talon. “Another minute and she would have succeeded,” he said.

  Talon looked down at the alien before him. “She possesses no end of ways to attempt to thwart me.”

  Lakit set his jaw. “If I may be so bold, you give her cause, my Lord.”

  Talon glared at his man, his temper barely containable. Then he took a deep breath. “How long will she be out?”

  “Until sometime tomorrow. She still needs more fluids, and I don’t want her struggling against the tubes.”

  Talon nodded. “Leave us,” he ordered.

  Lakit and Ven dropped everything and left. Talon continued to stare at Chelan, her pure white skin slowly resuming its beautiful pink hue. He peered down at the blood-stained towel that bound her. “Damn you,” he whispered. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her. Then he turned her arms over and looked at her wrists.

  Lakit and Ven had been meticulous: each jagged slash had been trimmed by the laser and neatly closed with a binding agent. Though the bruising would take time to heal, the scars would be but faint hairlines once they faded. Standing, Talon went to the washroom and disposed of the glass. Then he moistened a cloth and returned to her. Slowly, he cleansed her slender arms and hands.

  Pausing, he studied the soiled towel. He reached for the knot that bound it above her breasts but stopped. For some reason, this time, he could not expose her to himself, and he drew back, sucking in a deep breath as his heart crashed against his chest. Then he jumped to his feet, hastily covered her with the blankets, and left.

  *****

  Chelan moaned and struggled to open her eyes. She raised her hands and winced at the pain that shot through her arms. Then she blinked into reality and looked up into Lakit’s indecipherable features. “Oh, shit,” she mumbled.

  Lakit looked at her sternly. “That was stupid.”

  Chelan shook her head wearily. “You patched me up so that he could kill me himself. That was stupid.”

  Lakit ignored her comment. “Your arms will take about a week to heal. Fortunately, you missed any tendons. But you did a lot of deep damage. Use your hands minimally for now. I don’t want you to induce any further bleeding.”

  Chelan looked at the wall. “You should have let me die, Lakit. You have only prolonged my agony.”

  “You create your own agony, Chelan. Talon does only what he has been bred and trained to do.”

  Chelan turned and glared at him. “And what? I am supposed to cooperate with him while he obliterates the galaxy around me? And when he is finished humiliating and defiling me, mentally and physically, I am supposed to welcome my death at his hands?” She looked away. “I think not. He is destroying all that I know and love. I will not give him anything he wants, including my submission.”

  Lakit shook his head. “Everything you try is fruitless. Talon commands the universe now. Your attempts to frustrate him only work to your detriment. He holds dominion over you, over me, over billions upon billions of others. He alone wields the power of life and death. He will continue to patch you up indefinitely, if he so pleases. The degree of physical and emotional misery you suffer, above and beyond what you feel for those who are dying around you, is in your hands. The more you cooperate with him, the easier your remaining life will be.”

  Chelan’s eyes stung. “Remaining life,” she whispered. Lakit was right. If Talon could command and control the galaxy, her efforts to dethrone him were akin to an ant trying to fell a sequoia. Yet through it all, she felt a stubborn allegiance to her Warlords and a burning desire to avenge her son. Maybe, if the ant lived long enough, chewed hard enough, the tree would fall or at least be mortally wounded.

  She closed her eyes against the insurmountable odds. “Leave me,” she whispered.

  Lakit hesitated, but he knew there was nothing he could say or do. He left.

  Chelan curled back up, noticing for the first time that she was in a uniform. Yet the warmth it supplied was only superficial. She wanted so desperately to kill the man who waged war upon her and the Empire. But she felt so ineffectual and defeated at this very moment that she doubted she could do much more than lie here in her little dungeon and wait for the end.

  And for the next week, that is exactly what she did, her depression firmly entrenched. Lakit brought nourishment to her and checked her, but she did not respond to him. Though she ate, she would not talk, and he did not push her to.

  *****

  More time trickled past, until one morning, she rolled over and found Talon occupying the chair instead of Lakit. He sat silent, his face unreadable, his eyes intent upon her.

  “What do you want?” she asked with a snarl. Talon remained silent, and Chelan finally turned back to the wall. “Go away,” she whispered.

  Minutes passed and finally, in exasperation, she faced him again. She looked deep into his azure eyes, and her heart stopped. Something about him was different. She sat up and pressed herself defensively back against the wall. “What has happened?” she asked, her voice breaking.

  Talon rubbed his ebony-clad fingers over his jaw. “I have accomplished what I set out to do.” He waited for the ramifications of his words to take effect. “RIBUS 8 and 10 have been obliterated. Right now, we are speeding to Iceanea, which by all accounts is falling easily. Because of the trajectory the battle took over these months, we will be there within two short Iceanean weeks.”


  Chelan felt her whole body yield to unfathomable despair. Her stomach knotted, and she had to suppress becoming ill. But she was too dazed to cry. She raised her heavy eyes to his, expecting to see his wretched, sly grin, but his features were still cryptic, and there was no smile. She cleared her throat. “You rule?” she croaked.

  Talon simply nodded.

  Chelan looked back down, unable to comprehend the truth. She furrowed her brows. How could an Empire as powerful as Korba’s crumble so fast? Her breath started to come in erratic sobs as the horror of it all insidiously seeped under her defenses.

  Then she looked back at the devil seated across from her. She studied his face, his eyes, his hair… and then her breath stopped. She shuffled to the edge of the bed. Ever so cautiously, she reached across the chasm between them to his cheek. Her fingers traced his unflinching jaw, his smooth, hairless face sending tremors through her vanquished frame. “Who are you?”

  “I have told you no lies.”

  Chelan shook her head slowly as she took the time to steady herself on the bed. “You are of Iceanean descent.”

  Talon nodded.

  Chelan quivered. “You are…”

  Talon’s eyes narrowed. “I am what?”

  Chelan felt faint. “Korba produced no offspring.”

  Talon nodded again.

  Chelan felt a tremor pierce her core. “No one has ever come close to defeating him. Not even Dar would try,” she whispered.

  Talon remained very still.

  Chelan’s eyes sprang wide. “You are his brother!” she gasped.

  Talon’s eyes lit. “You surprise me yet again, little alien. Your perceptiveness is remarkable. Your only mistake is your tense. He was my brother.”

  Chelan shook her head, too stunned to do much else. “How?”

  Talon made himself more comfortable. “Korba came from a long line of genetic engineering. His actual parents only combined once, and he resulted. His mother had borne many children for the Guild but only one with Korba’s father. A short time later, his father was killed in battle.”