Taken by Storm

by Anna Argent

  “You said there will be another window. I’ll just catch that one.”

  His jaw bulged with anger. “Yes, there will be another. And another. And with each one, hundreds more die.”

  A sharp pang of regret stabbed her in the heart. She may not have known that Warrian and people like him existed a few days ago, and she may not have really known any of those who died, but she still mourned the needless loss of life.

  She also wept for the pain stretched visibly over Warrian’s face.

  Isa put her hand on his arm. “Try not to beat yourself up. We did the best we could.”

  “No. I did not. I let myself be distracted by your beauty. And for that, you were nearly killed. I should have been more vigilant. I should have expected an ambush.” His words lashed out, each one sharp and filled with pain. “Had you not covered my eyes and freed me from the Raide’s gaze, you would be gone now. Dead. And with you thousands more.” He shook his head, his knuckles popping out in rigid display as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I failed my people tonight. And you.”

  “Bullshit. You saved my life. Again. Sure, things didn’t go the best they could, but we’re still alive to try again. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a win.”

  “I reject your definition of victory.”

  “Reject it all you want. We’re stuck with the situation as it stands now. All we can do is make the most of it.”

  “Tell that to the families of those who will be slain tonight, and see if they agree with you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Radek injected a dose of blockers into his system to keep his hands steady for the job ahead. The poison that ran through his veins chained him to his home world and the regular shipments of antidote that kept him alive. The warden had been willing to release Radek from his prison cell to go on a suicide mission to another world, but no Soric prisoner was ever allowed to escape and survive.

  Of course, chances of Radek surviving long enough to return home had dropped by half the moment he’d decided to rescue Talan.

  Radek crept up to the old house, feeling the silky glide of ice-covered grass along his bare skin. The windows were uncovered, leaving an unobstructed view of Talan’s abused body. His skin was a ragged mass of torn flesh and blood. The Builders’ markings on his skull and back were no longer recognizable.

  After months of working with the Imonite, Radek was incapable of remaining calm. They were from different houses, but Talan had saved his life on this distant world more times than he could count. For that, he deserved the searing outrage that filled Radek’s chest as he looked upon the damage done to his friend.

  Behind Talan’s slumped body sat a Dregorg, but his head was bowed as if he were sleeping. There were no more guards and no Raide in sight.

  Something about this was wrong. It looked too easy. When it came to traps, the Raide didn’t fuck around. They liked their toys too much not to play with them.

  The urge to race in there and rescue Talan pounded through Radek in fiery waves. With each beat of his heart, he had to fight back the instinct to charge. After several slow, deep breaths of the cool air, he managed to bleed off some of the excess heat fogging his better judgment.

  The ground around the house appeared undisturbed. Radek made several circles, searching for signs of lines or other triggering devices. As he chose his path of approach, he stayed low to the ground, using the misty plumes of his breath to search for any triggers using rays of light.

  His progress was maddeningly slow. Necessarily slow. Even the vibration of his footfalls could set off a device.

  And if Radek was the one who ultimately killed Talan with his impatience, he would never forgive himself.

  Stars moved across the heavens as he made his way to the house, crawling along on his belly. The hilt of his knife dug into his hip bone, but he ignored the discomfort. Behind him was a visible path of melted ice, thanks to his body’s heat.

  His jeans were soaked by the time he finally made it to the window well leading to the basement. The main entrances were too risky. They’d definitely be trapped. At least with the window he had a chance of seeing what he faced.

  He peered through the glass, using his phone as a flashlight. There, along the top edge, he saw the dull gray metal that was present in most Raide tech. He wasn’t sure what it did, but it seemed to be set up so that when the window slid open, the frame would bump into it.

  He kept searching, looking for secondary triggers, but from here, he could see none.

  Only one way to be sure.

  Radek pressed his hand flat on the glass and summoned heat from his core. It pumped through his veins, vibrating his bones until it poured out of his palm and into the glass. Slowly, the glass began to heat and soften. He pushed hard, punching through the melted glass until his hand was on the other side.

  A chill grabbed hold and shook him as his body’s natural heat left him. The frigid air outside sank into his skin. His wet jeans sucked away what little heat remained, until his teeth were chattering with cold. He could barely feel his fingers enough to pry the Raide device away from the frame.

  With great care, he pulled the trap out through the melted hole in the glass and set it on the ground above the window well, where he wouldn’t accidentally activate it.

  Next, he reached in and used his phone to snap a few photos of the area around the window he couldn’t see. When those checked out safe, he slid the window open and stuck his head inside.

  In the back of his mind, he was aware of each drip of Talan’s blood on the floorboards above. The urge to hurry kept sweeping over him until he had to remind himself to use caution with every heartbeat.

  If the whole house blew up, Talan would go up with it.

  Finally, when he was satisfied that the entrance was clear, he kicked in the glass and the aluminum frame around it to make room for his shoulders. As he dropped to the concrete floor, the relative warmth of the space wrapped around him. His body sucked in the heat to begin refueling what was lost.

  The basement was littered with debris from past lives lived here. A child’s bed sat empty, with a broken lamp inside the frame. Along the wall was a sagging mattress and a metal trunk. Jars of stored food lined a shelf, everything covered in a thick layer of dust. The only light was that streaming from his phone.

  Radek crossed the space to the stairs in slow, methodical steps. He saw no more signs of traps until he neared the door. There, on the top step, he saw that some of the dust had been disturbed on the extreme right side, as if someone had stood there and shuffled around.

  A closer inspection revealed one of the hinges had a fine black thread wrapped around it. If he opened the door, the wire would tighten, likely pulling on a device set on the other side of the door. The question left was whether or not anything bad would happen if he cut the thread.

  With every second that passed, Talan was bleeding out. And enemy reinforcements could arrive at any time. This was swiftly becoming a now-or-never type of situation.

  Radek held his breath as he unsheathed his Soric blade and sliced through the thread. The tension eased immediately, but nothing went boom. Always a good sign.

  He eased the door open just enough to peek through to the other side. He saw no one. He saw no more traps, even overhead. This was as good as it was going to get.

  As soon as he stepped through the doorway, the Dregorg had line of sight. It lifted its head, its orange eyes opening slowly, as if sluggish and weak.

  The creature was injured. Its gray flesh still gaped open where it had been cut deeply across one arm. Burn marks radiated out from its chest, which fell in uneven, shallow breaths.

  The Dregorg wasn’t guarding Talan at all. It had clearly been left behind to die.

  “Are you going to fight me?” asked Radek, looking the fallen soldier in his odd, orange eyes.

  “No. Too weak.” It licked its thick lips. “You kill me now.”

  Radek wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a qu
estion. “Sit still and I won’t lay a hand on you. I don’t slay the helpless.”

  It nodded. “Mine will come soon.”

  “Your people? How many?”

  The Dregorg closed his eyes. For a second, Radek had thought he’d passed out, but then he realized the creature was communicating with its own kind.

  “Six travel here now. Slow, cold, slick ground.”

  “Tell me about it.” Radek inched closer to Talan, splitting his attention between the Dregorg and his friend.

  Talan hadn’t so much as twitched at the sound of their conversation. Up close his injuries were even more gruesome, making Radek wonder where he was going to touch the man to carry him out. Burn marks dotted his arms, and patches of his jeans had been burned away, revealing blistered skin. His naked back—once an intricate, scrolling tattoo detailing his family history—was now a patchwork of pain and torn flesh.

  Radek tried not to let the horror of it reach him. He tried to ice over that part of him that wanted to scream and lash out at the closest thing. The need for revenge beat through him like poisonous wings, tainting every thought that passed through his head. Someone was going to die for this, but only the Dregorg was here.

  “Did you do this?” he asked the creature.

  “No. Mine do not torture. Mine do not create pain as if it held beauty. That is Kemp’s joy.”

  The melted ice soaking Radek’s jeans began to steam as he fought the need to lash out in violence. Heat built in his blood, pooling in his core. Gone were all signs of the cold, leaving him shaking with barely controlled rage.

  His voice came out as a near growl. “If that Raide put a trap on my friend, we’re all going up in flames together. It would be in your best interest if you told me about any traps you saw.”

  The Dregorg nodded faintly toward the legs of the chair. “Beneath the blood. Loose board. Lift him and we die.”

  “How do I disarm it?”

  The creature frowned, and his head flopped sideways before he caught it. “Weight. Replace.”

  Radek could work with that.

  “Which leg of the chair?”

  “Near door.”

  Radek nodded that he understood as he looked around for something heavy enough to double for Talan’s weight. On the far side of the room was a tall bookshelf. In the kitchen sat a solid wooden table he could load with debris. An ancient TV with a busted screen hunched in one corner, likely offering the most weight in the smallest footprint. Talan was a big man, with dense, heavy bones. Even with all the lost blood, Radek had a lot of weight to replace.

  He tipped the TV onto its side, watching as smoke curled up from the wood in the shape of his handprints.

  Radek needed to get a grip. If he didn’t calm down, he wasn’t going to even be able to touch Talan without adding to his burns. And that wasn’t something he could allow.

  He blew out a long breath, bleeding off some of the heat. The wallpaper bubbled and curled where his breath passed, but after a few seconds, he felt more in control.

  Rumpled in the corner, he saw Talan’s leather vest with all of his Builder’s trinkets attached. He picked it up, searching for the white vial he knew held a drug that would ease Talan’s pain.

  There, along the inside edge, were three of the small vials. He plucked one off, shrugged the vest on his bare shoulders in case he needed more, and popped the tiny plug off with his thumb.

  He tipped Talan’s head back and parted his dry lips. “Drink this. It’ll help with the pain.”

  Talan moaned, choking on the liquid. At least some of it went down, but Radek didn’t dare risk giving him another dose of the powerful drug. It would have to be good enough.

  Focusing on the task at hand, Radek shoved the TV across the room until it was right next to Talan. “Okay, buddy. I’m going to move you now. It may hurt a bit, but just hang in there.”

  Another noise rose from his friend’s lips, and this time it was louder—almost a word.

  Radek shoved the TV, replacing the weight on the chair leg nearest the front door first. He kept pushing until the TV slid on the blood and Talan was several feet away from where he’d been.

  Still no explosions, which was more than Radek had expected. Now all they had to do was get out.

  Radek found the traps on the front door—three of them. He disarmed them, and then cut the Dregorg rope away from Talan’s body.

  He fell from the chair, limp and boneless. Radek caught him. Talan screamed in pain as Radek’s hot skin hit his burns. There was nothing he could do about that now. He’d get him out in the cold soon enough, but moving him was going to hurt.

  Talan’s moans of pain tore at Radek’s ears, twisting his stomach until he was sure he’d be sick. He swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat and kicked the door open just as headlights bounced over the ground.

  There was no more time. Someone was here. They had to leave now.

  He hefted Talan’s weight in his arms, being as careful as he could not to rip open his wounds. As his foot hit the welcome mat just outside the front door, he heard the audible click of a triggering device as it was activated.

  He froze and lifted his voice so the Dregorg could hear. “What happens when I lift my foot?”

  The creature’s voice was a low groan of mourning. “We burn.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  As the headlights bobbed, Warrian saw Radek go still on the front step of the house. Talan was draped over his arms, completely still. There was so much blood, it was hard to tell if he was even alive.

  Beside him, Isa let out a pained gasp. “Oh God, no. Talan.”

  Warrian pushed the truck over the grass, nearly to the front steps. “Stay here,” he ordered as he got out of the truck.

  “Stay back,” warned Radek. “The place is covered in traps. I’m on a trigger now. Come take Talan and get him out of here.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll figure something out. I can probably survive a bit of fire.”

  “Probably?” asked Warrian as he gently took Talan’s body from the warrior. Now that he was close, he could see the faint rise and fall of Talan’s bleeding chest.

  “It’s the best shot we have. Get the empress and Talan out of here. Now, before something goes boom.”

  Isa had ignored Warrian’s order and stood near the front of the truck. “We’re not leaving without you.”

  “Yeah, you are,” said Radek. “Warrian isn’t going to sacrifice you or Talan. And he knows it.”

  That was true. But it was also true that he wasn’t leaving a fellow warrior here to die.

  He laid Talan on the back seat of the truck, wincing as he groaned in pain at the slightest movement. “Isa, drive the truck to a safe distance. If you see the Raide, drive away and keep driving.”

  “Talan’s going to die if we don’t get him to a hospital,” she said.

  She was right. Only not about the hospital.

  Warrian pulled his rings free and handed them to her. “Take the garala and do what you can to stop his bleeding while you wait. Radek will call my phone if he sees danger approach. When you hear the phone, you must leave immediately.”

  “I don’t want to—”

  He covered her hands with his, curling her fingers around the rings. “You must do this or Talan will die. I must stay or Radek will die. There is no time to argue.”

  She gave him a grim nod, then grabbed his braid and pressed a hard, fervent kiss against his mouth. “For luck.”

  Warrian savored the taste of her on his lips as she climbed into the truck and backed it away to a safe distance. She made sure the headlights still shone on Radek, as if she knew he would not want to be in the dark while his life hung at risk.

  With a force of will, Warrian shoved her from his thoughts and gave Radek his full attention. “How does the device work?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t exactly move around and check.”

  “Cut line,” came a low, rumbling voice from inside
.

  Warrian leaned to the side and saw that the voice had come from a Dregorg slumped against a wall.

  He pressed his hands together to activate the garala, only to remember he’d given it to Isa.

  “Chill, Warrian. He’s hurt. No threat to us. He even told me how to get Talan out of here in once piece.”

  Warrian eyed the Dregorg with mistrust. “Why would you help him?”

  “Battle Lord Kemp left me here to die. Mine care not for their war. They die. You die. They live. You live. All the same.”

  “I think that’s his way of saying he doesn’t give a shit, Warrian. I suggest you trust what he says and find the line to cut. He already told me reinforcements are on the way.”

  “If you don’t care about the war, then why do you fight?” asked Warrian.

  “No choice. Offspring of mine must survive.”

  Rage slithered through Warrian, making his hands shake. Death was too good for the Raide. Utter and complete extinction was the only way to be sure their infection didn’t continue to grow and spread from world to world.

  “Fucking Raide,” spat Radek. “I really hope I survive this so I can kill a few more of them. Get me the hell out of here.”

  Warrian shoved his rage down onto the growing pile of emotions that threatened to crush him. Isa had nearly died tonight. He’d failed to get her through the window. Talan was on the verge of death, and Isa was out there right now, suffering so that he had a chance at survival. Radek was trapped like a rodent, and there was a good chance that both he and Warrian wouldn’t make it through the next ten minutes.

  Who would fight then? Who would willingly leave their home and the front lines to come to another world where they may or may not ever find a source of hope?

  No one wanted this mission. So many had already come here, never to return. There was no glory to be had here, no safe haven or solace of family. It was a cold, desolate place so empty of hope that even the tiniest flicker seemed like a roaring pyre.

  Even if they found all of the Taken, there was still a good chance that they’d lose the battle. And if they did, then those who were lucky enough to survive would be like this Dregorg, wounded and left behind to die on some alien world, hoping his children survived his failure.