Harbinger

by Cyndi Friberg

  Harbinger

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Copyright © 2016 Cyndi Friberg

  Cover art by Dar Albert

  Editor: Mary Moran

  Electronic Book Publication, March 2016

  Trade Paperback Publication, March 2016

  Edition One B

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author, Cyndi Friberg.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Praise for Beyond Ontariese

  Taken by Storm

  “Taken by Storm had it all—tense action, suspense, erotic sex, humor and a wildly imaginative plot.”

  ~The Romance Studio

  “Unplug the phone and put the kids to bed; once you start reading Taken by Storm you won’t want any interruptions!”

  ~Fallen Angel Reviews

  “For a story that will delight, entertain, and keep you on the edge of your seat, I highly recommend Taken by Storm and award it RRT’s Perfect 10.”

  ~Romance Reviews Today

  Operation Hydra

  “I highly recommend Operation Hydra…it’s one of the best science fiction romances I’ve ever read. Perfect 10!”

  ~Romance Reviews Today

  “Outstanding! This segment only whetted my appetite for more. The heat between Kyrsta and Trey could cause a nuclear meltdown.”

  ~Simply Romance Reviews

  City of Tears

  “WOW! City of Tears by Cyndi Friberg is one amazing blend of science fiction at its best and romance at its hottest…”

  ~eCata Reviews

  Harbinger

  Cyndi Friberg

  Battle Born, Book Five: Danvier agrees to rescue Haven Tandori from her ruthless kidnapper, but Haven is anything but grateful. Her continual demands and fits of temper stir the darker elements of Danvier's personality. He wants to tame her, control her, and leave her aching for his touch.

  Haven is infuriated by the arrogant harbinger. She didn't ask for his assistance and she has no intention of following his orders. Her life is riddled with secrets and tragedy. She can't afford to open up to anyone, even the handsome harbinger who insists he wants only to protect her.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Crusader

  About the Author

  Other Titles by

  Chapter One

  Torn between anger and fear, Haven Tandori paced the luxurious bedroom in which she’d been locked many hours before. When pounding on the door and screaming obscenities at her captors only exhausted her, she searched every inch of the room for an escape route. She’d found nothing, not even a window through which to climb. So she lay on the bed and tried to calm herself. Strong emotions muddled logic. Everyone knew that. And outwitting her captors was her only hope.

  The most frustrating part was, she didn’t know why she’d been taken. Pyre Sterling, the woman responsible for Haven’s kidnapping, controlled the Harbinger Guild, the second most powerful organization on Rodymia. Maybe that was the answer. Pyre wasn’t satisfied with second best.

  The true seat of power on Rodymia was the Integration Guild. The IG controlled technology and every Rodyte alive depended on integrated technology in one way or another. From accessing basic information to interplanetary communications and life-extending cybernetic organs, Rodytes turned to technology when solving their problems. Most never realized how vulnerable that dependency made them.

  Still, only a technomage could lead the Integration Guild. And even with her prophetic dreams and whispered compulsions, Pyre was no technomage.

  An ironic smile curved Haven’s lips. She wasn’t a technomage either and yet she’d wielded the power of the IG for the past four months. Of course, she’d only succeeded because most of the members of the IG believed Javin, her mate, was still alive. Every move she’d made had been accepted because of Javin’s authority.

  Javin, her mate, the person with whom she’d expected to spend the rest of her life. She sighed then shivered. His memory produced only regret and disappointment. The Javin she’d fallen in love with had been an illusion, a façade concealing a soulless beast so consumed by ambition and greed that he’d abandoned anything resembling honor long before Haven met him. She’d been a fool to trust him and had nearly paid for her naivete with her life. Never again would she trust so easily or love so deeply.

  She shook away the past with another sigh and crawled off the bed. Inactivity was just making her more restless. Pyre claimed this wasn’t a kidnapping, that she’d taken Haven into protective custody. Haven didn’t believe the feeble excuse, but it made her wonder how much Pyre knew. Had she confirmed that Javin had passed beyond and Haven was now acting on his behalf? If so, why hadn’t Pyre confronted her with the fact? And why—

  Her rambling thoughts were jarred into silence as a man materialized to her right. She gasped then smiled, thinking a technomage had come to rescue her. Then he turned and she saw his blood-red phitons, the luminescent rings separating his irises from his pupils. She screamed. This was no technomage. He was Bilarrian. Bilarri and Rodymia had been at war for centuries. This was no rescue!

  He reached for her and she twisted away. “Help! Intruder!” She screamed again and his phitons ignited with crimson fire, making his dark eyes glow.

  Without wasting time with words, the Bilarrian charged. He wrapped his arms around her torso, trapping her arms against her sides, and teleported out of the bedroom.

  Her next scream lodged in her throat as acceleration drove the breath from her lungs. The staggering sensation lasted only a moment and then they solidified on a shuttle, but it was a shuttle unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The lines were sleek and rounded. Every surface was spotless, as if this were the first time the ship had been used. There were no physical controls, but the slightest motion from the pilot’s hands triggered an intuitive control matrix that bent and curled around his fingers. Two tall-backed seats faced the main viewscreen. The other two rows of seats faced each other, creating an open feeling, despite the ship’s compact size.

  She’d seen diagrams of the highly anticipated covert strike ships, but she’d never been on one. Until now. “Is this a Phantom?” Hope fluttered through her chest at the possibility. Garin Nox, leader of the battle born rebellion had taken possession of the six Phantom class shuttles. She’d much rather be in the company of rebels than many of the alternatives. But what would a Bilarrian be doing on one of General Nox’s ships?

  The pilot turned his seat around and she staggered back a step, bumping into the Bilarrian. He eased her forward, hands lightly touching her upper arms. The pilot was a harbinger. All harbingers were beautiful, with long silver hair and silver-ringed blue eyes, but this one compromised rational thought with his physical appeal. His features were perfect, sculpted yet masculine. And his waist-length braid mixed every hue from iron gray to silver white. He smiled at her and light shimmered off his silver phitons. Even without the telltale rings, his eyes would be beautiful. His irises were vibrant blue, framed by thick dark lashes, so different from the endless black of most Rodytes.

  “Buckle up.” The harbinger motioned to the center-facing seats. “We need to get moving.”

  He ha
dn’t confirmed that this was a Phantom, but she had no doubt that her conclusion was correct. If the shuttle hadn’t been protected by covert shields, he would have taken off at full speed the second she and the Bilarrian arrived.

  The Bilarrian guided/pushed her onto one of the center-facing seats as the harbinger turned back around. Left with no option, she looked at the Bilarrian. All she’d seen when he blinked into the bedroom had been his blood-red phitons.

  On Rodymia, children were taught to fear anyone with red-rings in their eyes, taught to struggle and scream regardless of what the lying dogs said or did. Bilarrians were the enemy. They were evil. But Haven had grown up on Earth. She was part of Tandori Tribe, an exiled bloodline who refused to participate in the Rodyte/Bilarrian war. She was cautious of strangers, but she hadn’t been programed to fear his entire race.

  This Bilarrian hadn’t hurt her. Instead he’d taken her away from her kidnappers. He motioned to the safety straps. Haven pulled them across her body and secured the buckles. “Who sent you? What’s going on?”

  “I’m Vox,” the Bilarrian told her. “That’s Danvier.” He didn’t need to say more. She might not have recognized the harbinger’s face, but she knew his name, his reputation. Danvier Evon served Garin Nox. The harbinger’s frequent and extremely accurate visions assisted the rebel general and only the rebel general.

  “What does General Nox want with me?”

  Vox sat in one of the seats facing her and secured his own safety straps before he explained, “You needed our help, so we helped you. Now we need yours.”

  “How did he know I’d been kidnapped?” The answer was so obvious, she spared herself the embarrassment. “Sorry. Stupid question.” Garin was served by an unprecedented network of spies and one of the most powerful harbingers Rodymia had ever produced. Nothing took place in this star system without General Nox finding out.

  Vox grinned patiently as he waited for her to go on. He wasn’t striking like Danvier, but he had a certain mystique about him that made her strangely restless. With short brown hair and a lean build, he was too light and too small to be confused with a Rodyte, especially the musclebound battle born soldiers. His features were too rugged to be considered classically handsome, yet she was honest enough to admit his smile was appealing.

  When she said nothing more, Vox asked, “How did Pyre Sterling get you out of IG Headquarters in the first place? That building has one of the most advanced security systems on the planet, not to mention a small army of technomages just a scream away.”

  A vivid image of her first abductor flashed through Haven’s mind. She shuddered. “Pyre hired an outcast, of course. At least that’s what I presume he was. He wasn’t much of a talker.” With a mostly bare chest and laser tattoos covering his arms and shoulders, he’d looked savage and lethal. But he hadn’t bothered with words. He’d been utterly focused on his task, treating her with all the courtesy one extended to a piece of luggage. He’d teleported into Haven’s private quarters, grabbed her so quickly she hadn’t had time to scream, then teleported out. Before Haven’s head stopped spinning, he delivered her to Pyre—who promptly paid him for the service—and then he disappeared as abruptly as he’d arrived.

  “What’s an outcast?” Vox relaxed back in his seat, hands lightly resting on his thighs. “I presume you mean something more specific than your average malcontent.”

  “They’re a group of technomages who, for various reasons, have been rejected by the Integration Guild,” Danvier explained though his attention remained centered on the control matrix.

  “So they offer their skills for hire?” Vox seemed fascinated by the concept. “And the IG allows this?”

  Haven shot him an impatient look. “How do you suggest they stop it? Even the Integration Guild can’t control the behavior of every person on the planet.”

  “How can ‘they’ stop it?” Challenge arched Vox’s brows. “Don’t you consider yourself part of the Integration Guild?”

  Her relationship to the IG was none of his business. He was a Bilarrian, for creation’s sake. Why would he care? Rather than starting a fight, however, she returned to the unresolved issue. “You said you rescued me because you need my help. What do you want me to do?”

  “We must track a ship equipped with a covert shield generator,” Vox told her. “You’re going to tell us how.”

  “That’s the price for my rescue?”

  “Yes.”

  “But Pyre swears she was protecting me, so you didn’t really rescue me.” It was a pointless argument. Still, Haven had never been one to meekly follow along without question or resistance. These men needed to understand who they’d “rescued”.

  “We don’t believe that and neither do you.”

  Doubtlessly they were trying to find the Relentless. It was the only ship equipped with a covert shield generator that wasn’t already controlled by General Nox. Pretending to be the IG’s leader had kept her remarkably well informed for the past few months. “And if I provide you with a way to find this ship, will that repay my debt in full? I’ll be free to go?”

  “Of course.” Vox sounded sincere. Still, she wasn’t sure she believed him.

  “And if I don’t?” Her pride demanded that she at least ask the question.

  “Then you can have this conversation with Pyre.” Danvier glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t turn around. “That didn’t seem to be going very well when we found you. But, of course, it’s entirely up to you.”

  She didn’t need magic powers to understand the threat woven through his polite explanation. If she didn’t give them what they wanted, they’d return her to Harbinger Academy and leave her at the mercy of Pyre Sterling. “I’m not even sure it’s possible. The sole purpose for covert shields is to make the ship invisible both visually and to sensors.”

  “How can you find out?” Vox crossed his legs and watched her with calm curiosity. He seemed to be less interested in the answer than he was in her.

  “I’ll have to do some research. I need access to the data stream.” She wasn’t yet sure she’d actually cooperate with these outlaws, but it was better if they believed surrender was her intention. She was safe as long as she was useful. “You can watch me. I won’t try anything foolish.”

  “I hope you mean that. Everything will be so much simpler if you do.” Danvier activated an access station directly in front of her then turned his chair around so both men could watch what she was doing.

  A beam of light descended from the ceiling and expanded into a three-dimensional control panel. Could she send a message, or trigger a distress beacon without them realizing what she was doing? She pushed her fingers into the control matrix and navigated to a common access point. Her index finger hovered over a messaging app when someone grabbed her wrist.

  She gasped and looked up to find Danvier standing right beside her. “Don’t.” His silver phitons flashed an additional warning.

  With an indignant jerk, she freed her wrist. “What do you expect? You’re outlaws. Only a fool would trust anything you say.”

  “We’re outlaws and you’re a fugitive,” he countered. “Sounds like a perfect match to me.”

  “This is a simple barter, Ms. Tandori.” Vox’s casual statement drew her attention away from the arrogant harbinger, but her temper still simmered. “We provided a needed service, now we expect compensation. There’s no need to complicate this.”

  Danvier lingered at her side, silent and intimidating until she turned back to the control matrix. Several voice commands and a retina scan were required before she reached the IG’s research and development hub. Again she hesitated. Much of the information contained in this database was highly confidential. She looked at Danvier, but like Vox, he was watching her more closely than the commands she entered or menus through which she navigated. Had they never seen a female before? What was so fascinating about her?

  “Why did Javin trust you with the IG’s secrets?” Challenge rippled through Danvier’s tone, yet
his expression, or lack thereof, didn’t change. Except for the occasional flash of anger, he seemed unaffected by the conflicts surrounding him.

  She didn’t miss the fact that he’d put the question in the past tense. The attempt was subtle, but she neatly sidestepped the trap. “I’m his mate. We don’t have secrets from each other.”

  His only reply was an arched eyebrow, so she went back to her inquiries. The covert shield generators had been in production less than a year so there were myriad references to the project. She narrowed her search criteria and hit another security gate. Her password didn’t work, so she tried Javin’s and the program allowed her access to the information.

  Contrary to her claim, Javin hadn’t trusted her with the IG’s secrets. Javin hadn’t trusted her at all. But in the months leading up to his death, and even more so since he passed beyond, she’d become a tenacious snoop, digging into all sorts of places he’d never intended her to go.

  Nearly an hour passed as she searched through reports and correspondence. Vox took it all in stride, but Danvier grew progressively more impatient. “Who headed the research team?” He paced the narrow aisle between the center-facing seats. “Perhaps they can point you in the right direction.”

  It was a good idea, but she didn’t want to admit it too quickly. Meeting the terms for her release was the logical solution to this situation, but it wasn’t the only alternative. If she were fast, she could use the interdepartmental message function to alert someone of her situation. But who should she contact and what should she tell them? She was in an undetectable shuttle somewhere above the city. It was doubtful a rescue party would be able to locate her. And whomever she contacted would want to know why she hadn’t sent the message to Javin.

  What a mess.

  After ten more minutes of digging—and scheming—she sent an audio-only ping to, Bynar Forett, the project director. He was a friendly old man who had recently retired and Haven was relatively certain she could get him talking. But how could she alert him without her captors realizing what she had done?