Unity

by Kim Knox

  Vadim leaned forward, and it took every ounce of strength in Alena not to edge back.

  “Tonight.” His voice was no more than a deep, soft whisper, one that eased over her skin and pooled unwanted heat between her thighs. His silver eyes speared her, and she forgot to breathe. “When I fuck you harder than any empress in your line, remember I won’t be a mistake.”

  Yank him into the room, slam the door, and strip him. Excellent plan. Instead, she fought that need and made a wry smile pull at her mouth. “The infamous Talar ego, obviously undiluted by your Rodin half.” Alena patted his jaw, and he hissed at the contact. Her fingers curled away. “You’ll fulfill the ritual, Vadim. We both will. And in all probability, my obsession for you will fall away.” She stepped back from the door.

  “My mother was ice to the core. I’ll follow that tradition.”

  “And is that what you want?”

  “Want? No. But I have no say, just as you and Sacha had no say in being with me for the coronation. It’s what your genes designed you for.”

  Vadim gave her another curt nod. “Then I will fulfill the role for which I was designed.” His arm dropped away, and the door ground back into place. It hit the seam with a dull thud.

  Alena stared at the smooth metal. Something about his words chilled her but not enough to dampen the heat still warming her flesh. Her forehead fell against the cool metal. The soft beat of living technology vibrated through her skull, and she slowed her heart until it moved with the same slow, steady rhythm. Alena closed her eyes.

  Her desire for Vadim ate through to her core, and she had no idea why. So much for her genetic need for the purest Volkov male.

  She pushed herself away from the door and turned to the panel screen. She palmed it.

  Work would distract her. There was still so much for her to learn, the nuances of her position that had always obsessed her mother and sisters.

  Ancient documents scrolled over the screen, and her eyes started to glaze. Of course, she could investigate her fascination with Vadim instead … but the words for that search wouldn’t come. Someone as alien as a Talar attracted her. Alena had to admit that scared her. The little niggle persisted at the back of her brain. What if it meant that she was not fit to rule? That the last Dubov would fail her ancestors and her city?

  Alena pushed the doubts from her mind. She could only follow the ritual … and hope it proved enough to save them all.

  * * * *

  The panel over the desk flashed, and Alena looked up from her interface pad.

  Sacha’s face, looking tired and harassed, centred in the screen, the rest of the war room bustling and noisy around him. “Having fun, Alena?”

  She scowled at him. “No,” she said. Hours had passed since she’d banned Vadim from her room. The knowledge that he stood on the other side of the easily opened metal door had her palms itching. Alena had spent her time reading the intricacies of the Talar war. Even with the enhancements Sacha had brought about, her brain still spun. “What have you found out, Sacha?”

  “With the generators powering the shield, energy fluctuations appeared. The Talar seemed prepared for this, and rather than focusing their attack and breaching the shield, they sent the skin-mappers through.”

  Alena waved her interface at the screen. “Everything in here points to their wanting our complete annihilation.” A wry smile pulled at her mouth, and she couldn’t help the gaze she slid to the closed door, her thoughts with the man on the other side. “We’re ‘A decadent race devoted only to their own pleasures.’ And the empress is seen as the worst example of all that is Rodin.”

  The door rumbled open, and Vadim stood at attention. “With your permission, Majesty?”

  Alena blinked and resisted the need to scramble farther up the bed away from him.

  Sacha would have a fit laughing. She waved her hand. “Come in, Vadim.”

  “You threw him out?” Sacha’s laughter grated against her nerves anyway. “Poor, Alena.”

  “Shut up, Sacha.” She blew out a slow breath. “Update Vadim.”

  Her friend bit down on his grin and gave her a brief nod. Sacha repeated what he had told her.

  Vadim straightened. “The sending of skin-mappers. I agree. It doesn’t make any sense, the Talar's wanting her. No offence, Majesty, but they want the Dubov line wiped out. You’re the power of the Rodin.”

  Alena scratched at her forehead. Her thoughts had turned fuzzy; too much time locked in a room on her own, she suspected. “Have the fluctuations healed?”

  “No.”

  Alena cursed. “So they can come back?”

  “Possibly. But I’ve drafted in everyone I can to monitor it. Working with the Guard, no more will get to you. Once the ritual is complete, the fluctuations will disappear.”

  A smile pulled at her mouth. Sacha’s confidence lifted her. “Thank you, Sacha.”

  Humour spiked in his eyes, and she could almost hear the inappropriate response burning on his tongue. He lifted his finger. “Later,” he said and looked up. “Actually, not that much later. Have you seen the time?” And the screen went black.

  “The time?”

  “It’s an hour before the rise of the second moon.”

  Alena blinked. “It is?”

  Vadim lifted an eyebrow, and his eyes mirrored the spark that had ignited in Sacha’s.

  Alena pushed back the sudden tingles deep in her flesh, and her heart did a little flip.

  “Who thought it would come around so quick?” He cleared and closed down the panel and changed the subject. “The imperial apartments will have guards posted. Once we’re inside your stateroom, it becomes a fortress … but I don’t want surprises when the doors open again.”

  “Good.” His pragmatism should have grounded her, but the thoughts she’d been denying all day burst to the surface. She pushed herself off the narrow bunk and threw the pad onto the food-littered desk. “We should head there now.”

  Vadim gave a soft chuckle, and the sound rippled over her skin in a delicious rush.

  “Eager, Alena?”

  Tomorrow she would be a shell. That thought burned through her mind as she stared at the man who had her blood running so hot. A smile pulled at her mouth. “Aren’t you?”

  His fingers flexed around the butt of his Zahlta-9-40. “Ready to go,” he said.

  Alena laughed, and the tension of the day eased from her. She waited for him to open the door. He scouted the landing and the stairs and then held out his hand. She slid her fingers into his. The heat of his touch, the press of the fingers against her palm, soothed a slow, intoxicating warmth through her body. “I just have to say, Vadim.” He stopped on the first step of the spiralling stairs. Recessed lights edged him, thickening shadow over his lean body. “If … when … I change, and I become”—she shrugged, hunting for a term and settling on only one—“like my mother, then I want you know that I’ve enjoyed our time together.” Her grin was wry. “As short as it was.”

  The shadows falling heavy against his face made his expression unclear. “Thank me after.”

  Alena snorted and followed his lead up the curving stairs. “So presumptuous, Flight-

  Captain?”

  She caught the brief curl of a smile. “Confident,” he said.

  The war room bustled with staff and the flash of numerous screens. Alena winced at the central screen’s vivid image of the besieging Talar fleet. Bulk-cruisers blotted out huge chunks of sky, the hidden monitoring station on the first rising moon broadcasting a steady stream of images.

  “Sacha.”

  Her friend looked up from making the final adjustments on the shield screen. He pulled his hands from the organic controls and took the offered towel. He wiped his hands. “Majesty,” he said with enough twist to his voice that she had to hold back a smile. “Doesn’t time just fly.”

  Alena’s chest tightened. Would Sacha’s friendship be lost to her too in a few hours'

  time? Her mother had stood aloof from
everyone. “Are you finished here?”

  He handed the towel to a hovering lackey. “As much as I can secure the shield before your full ascension to empress, I have.”

  “Good. Thank you.”

  “A detachment of guards will take us to the imperial apartments. We found no other skin-mappers, but your safety is not worth the risk.” Vadim guided her to the door, his hand barely brushing her spine. The contact ran a tingle through her skin. “If you’re ready, Majesty?”

  She wasn’t imagining the undercurrent to his voice. The waiting had been as hard for Vadim as for her—Alena wet dry lips—probably worse. “Lead on, Flight-Captain.”

  His eyes narrowed for a brief moment, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. Her flesh tightened at his reaction.

  Sacha leaned in close, and she could feel his smirk. “The city’s already fizzing, what with the energy sparking between you two.”

  “Shut up, Sacha.”

  “Your sense of humour deserting you already?”

  That question cut too close to the bone, and Alena pulled away. She followed Vadim out of the war room, aware of the silence that had fallen. She felt the eyes of the generals and their staff on her inappropriate clothing, on the wild tangle of her hair. She was supposed to be mythical. Right then, she looked all too human.

  Faces blank and weapons primed, guards surrounded them as they left the small antechamber. She had no glittering throne room or the pampering of her mother’s ladiesin-

  waiting as they had prepared her for Sacha. Just the march of solid boots and the oily odour of gun grease.

  They followed the path they had taken the night before, the colonnade open to the stars and the growing glitter of the city shield. Beyond the throne room and then the quick walk over the narrow bridge leading into the imperial apartments.

  Guards broke away in pairs, taking their positions on the narrow corridor. Vadim and Sacha stepped in front of her. The golden doors, lit now by soft, white, artificial light, had closed tight again. Vadim and Sacha pressed their palms to the doors. Their rings flared, and with a deep groan, the doors started to open.

  Vadim pulled his hand free and turned to his men. “Guard this door with your lives.”

  The lieutenant saluted smartly. “Understood, sir.”

  Alena stepped through. Her gaze shifted to the doorway of her bedroom … and found it clear of bodies and the smear of blood and bodily fluids. Servants had removed the lamps, the regenerated lighting casting a soft, white sheen over the cleared floor.

  What had they wanted with her? Without the real Sacha and Vadim, her city would fail and the shield would collapse. So … control of the city? And did they plan to use her as a laboratory animal? After all, no one had mastered and altered the human genome quite like her Dubov ancestors… The doors thunked shut behind her, and she jumped.

  “Alena.” Vadim touched the base of her spine, and she let out a slow breath. Her awareness of him still startled her. “Stay here with Sacha. I want to make certain that the place is secure.” Flexing his hand around his Zahlta, he primed the gun and disappeared into her bedroom.

  “Are you going to keep him afterwards?”

  “Sacha!” She dug her elbow into his ribs, and he yelped. “Enough.”

  Sacha rubbed at his side. “All right. He’s become a taboo subject.” He craned his head to stare out of the long slide of windows. Alena followed his gaze. The silvered glow of the second moon rippled through the city shield as it climbed across the sky.

  “Another forty-five minutes. He needs to hurry up. We have to prepare.”

  Vadim appeared at the bedroom doors. “Clear,” he said before he ran across the room and disappeared into the larger suite Sacha had claimed as his own. Within a few more minutes, he had scouted the rooms and the chamber. “All clear.”

  Alena’s heart thudded almost as hard as the closing of the golden doors. She’d known Vadim Caethes for a day, and something about him had buried itself in her blood and bone. She wet dry lips and lifted her shoulders. That probably wasn’t good for a woman so reliant on the power of her genes. “Then we get cleaned up. Sacha.” She put her hand on his arm, and the knowledge that her friendship with him could end all too soon had her fingers gripping him tight. “See you down there.”

  His warm hand covered her own. “It will work out, Alena.”

  There was Sacha Ivanovich’s confidence again, and Alena wanted to believe him …

  but a lifetime with her mother, a woman who had stood aloof and alone from every fellow Rodin, weighed on her soul. “I hope so.”

  Her friend gave her a wicked little smile. “I know so.” Squeezing her fingers a final time, he turned to his suite.

  Alena found Vadim’s sharp, silver gaze fixed on her. She knew what he was going to say. “Come on then, Vadim, you get to watch me shower again.”

  Chapter Eight

  The familiar muscle jumped in his jaw, and she would have sworn his eyes glowed.

  They still played a dangerous game. A wry thought eased the need pounding through her veins. Sacha had been right about the sparks arcing between them.

  Alena turned, aware of every step she took, certain that Vadim watched the sway of her hips with a gaze that stripped her bare. A smile curved her mouth. It wouldn’t be long until imagination became unnecessary. She tugged at her black tunic and threw it at her bed, pulling off her boots as she made her way down to the shower room.

  She shrugged out of her trousers and the rest of her underwear in the black tiled room. Her skin prickled, but the air was warm. Alena turned and found Vadim standing at the base of the curving stairs, his arms folded across his chest. His focus had heat pooling low in her belly, and she had to will herself to edge closer to the shower alcove and not toward him.

  “Before we get into this”—he uncrossed his arms and waved a hand to her nakedness—“there’s something you should know.”

  Damn him. Trust Vadim to make her more uncomfortable … and there was the problem of what she could do with her hands again. Uncurling her fingers from the fists they’d started to form, she linked them in front of her. “What now?”

  “This was planned.”

  Alena rolled her eyes. “The Dubov ritual was planned centuries ago, Vadim.”

  His mouth thinned. “Then I should say I was planned.”

  She blinked, and for a moment, she could only stare at him as a thousand questions rattled through her brain. One stood out. “You killed Yerik?”

  “No!” Vadim winced and scrubbed at his mouth. He sank down to the steps. “The geneticists monitoring your line realised a deficiency had formed. I was the start of the repair. Only they didn’t plan for me to be used quite so soon.” He watched her, and words trapped themselves in her throat. In her silence, he carried on. “I was designed to bring the animal strength of the Talar to your line, for a strength-giver to offer it to his empress. But that was a plan for five generations from now.”

  “What will your undiluted genes do?”

  “They never shared that with me.”

  Alena’s jaw tightened. “And I was kept out of the loop too.”

  “There’s more.”

  “More?”

  “The ritual must change.”

  Alena shook her head, anger and disbelief swelling up from her gut. “And no one thought it a good idea to tell me any of this?” She took a tight hold of her fury. “How will it change?” A thought struck her. “Does Sacha know?”

  “I told him earlier. He reacted in much the same way.”

  That chilled the sudden burst of emotion. “How will it change?”

  “The geneticists know your genes too well, how each one interacts with every other gene and the city. They considered me too much of a grunt to explain in detail … but you will need Sacha to help to control what I’ll give you.”

  Her mind turned, twisted his words. Alena swallowed and tried to deny the little curl of flame flickering low in her pelvis. “Both of you.” And the insane l
ife of the empress of the Rodin raised its head in her next question. “One after the other, or at the same time.”

  A flush burned over Vadim’s cheeks, and she had her answer. “So, it’s the latter.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You weren’t supposed to tell me this, were you?”

  Vadim fixed his attention on the tiled floor before looking up at her. “No,” he said. “I was told nothing could distract you. But it isn’t right to keep this a secret.”

  “Thank you.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Not that it changes anything. We still have to complete the ritual, changed as it is … whether you turn me into a rabid animal or not.”

  The sudden smile curving his lips had her all too aware that she was naked. Her skin tingled. “I will make you scream, Alena.”

  She matched his smile. “I thought that was a given.”

  Vadim stood and took a step towards her, unfastening the buttons on his shirt. Heat swept down her body. Was it the genetic deficiency that had her aching for him? Her gaze skirted down the lithe muscles of his torso, the need to lick and suck and bite his hot flesh making her mouth dry. Yes, her deficiency was good.

  “Shower, Alena.” The soft rumble of his voice eased over her burning skin. “Sacha is waiting.”

  She turned on the shower and stepped into hot water. The shock to her skin had her gasping. “Was it Mishenka?”

  Vadim had put his weapon on a tiled shelf and turned his attention to undressing.

  Through the fine spray, Alena watched the slow exposure of his skin. Spotlights shot down white light over his battle-hardened perfection. Sacha and him… Alena bit down a smile. The water would wash away any drool.

  “One of his staff told me when I was sixteen. General Mishenka’s been up to his neck in this from the beginning. He captured my father for the purpose of breeding him.”

  Naked, Vadim turned on the shower and stepped into the alcove. The sluice of water over the smooth flow of his muscles mesmerised her. Yes, the Rodin empress deserved her reputation as the shallowest creature in the universe. But then the myths that shrouded her power also spun around her decadence. The coronation had exploded into the belief that all Rodin followed their depraved empress into debauchery … and so the Talar, a patriarchal and conservative race, loathed them.