Taken by Storm

by Anna Argent

  A woman’s soft voice flittered past her, offering senseless words of comfort.

  “You must drink, Your Imperial Majyr.” Rohra.

  Something cool pressed against her lips, and liquid spilled into her mouth. She tried to drink it down and ease the rasping pain in her throat, but her movements were sluggish and clumsy, and the water leaked down her chin and between her breasts.

  She felt her gown being peeled away from her sweaty body, but she was too weak to care. She knew there was a reason she was supposed to fight, but there was no fight left in her. The device had sucked it all away until just a thin shell of herself remained. If she so much as breathed too hard, she knew she’d crack.

  “You must stop doing this,” said Rohra. “You must not allow them to put you back inside the machine.”

  It took Isa a minute to separate reality from the haze surrounding it. Her mind was foggy, and it took longer than it should have for Rohra’s words to sink in.

  Stop?

  Normally, Isa would have agreed, but right before she’d passed out, she’d seen a trio of ships in the distance. She recognized the blue sails identifying two as Loriahan vessels, but the last one was all dull, metallic gray. It was mechanical, much faster than the other ships. On its deck, Cyturs were packed in so tight they looked like a nest of black Easter grass from a distance.

  Right before she’d been sucked down into unconsciousness, she’d seen that ship filled with the enemy sweep past the others, heading right for the pristine coastline of the west side of the island. All of their defenses were concentrated in the east. If that ship landed, the entire island would be overrun.

  She had to stop it.

  “I’m okay,” she told Rohra, trying not to sound like she’d spent the last several hours screaming. “I just need a quick shower to clear my head.”

  “I will bathe her,” said a deep, male voice thick with the tone command. “Leave us.”

  Isa tried to lift her head to see who’d spoken, but she was too weak.

  “I will not leave the empress,” said Rohra.

  The man’s voice grew louder, angry, speaking words Isa couldn’t understand. She felt her body droop to the bed as Rohra stood. The sparking sound of a garala igniting forced Isa’s eyes to crack open.

  Rohra stood, feet braced, weapon glowing. In front of her was the thin old man that Pretor had said was her uncle.

  That’s when Isa remembered what was at stake. They wanted her to have a child—one they would stick in that fucking machine and torture to death.

  No way in hell would she let that happen.

  A swelling pulse of rage shoved Isa all the way awake. Her body trembled with fatigue, but she managed to push herself to a sitting position.

  The sheet fell, revealing her breasts. The man’s gaze zeroed in on them, and she saw his short robes shift as his erection grew.

  Bile rose in her throat.

  Isa saw her dagger on the table beside her. She picked it up, baring the blade. The effort left her panting, but it was worth the strain to see the shocked look on his face. “Get near me with your geezer dick, and I’ll cut the thing off.”

  “Pretor sent me.”

  “I don’t give a fuck who sent you. Leave. Now.”

  The man’s face darkened with rage, but he turned and left.

  Isa sagged back down to the mattress, totally depleted. “Thanks, Rohra.”

  The warrior looked surprised that Isa would bother to thank her, but nodded her frizzy head. “They will come for you again.” She sounded tired.

  “When was the last time you slept?”

  She frowned as if she couldn’t quite remember.

  “That long, huh? Neither one of us is going to make it if we keep up this pace. They’re going to kill us.”

  “Me, yes. You… they are more careful of you, Your Imperial Majyr. I hear the council talk of not making mistakes with you as they did with your mother.”

  “I guess I’m no good to them dead.”

  “None, Your Imperial Majyr.”

  “Are there any rooms in this place that lock from the inside?” asked Isa.

  “Yes, Your Imperial Majyr.”

  “Can we hide in one?”

  “Hide?” she asked, like the entire concept was a foreign one.

  “Yeah. Hole up, lock ourselves in, take a nap.”

  “The palace is nearly empty. Only a few staff remain. Everyone but half of the council and the army were taken away long ago. Only a few stay here to defend the palace.”

  “And the device inside,” guessed Isa.

  “Yes, Your Imperial Majyr.”

  Isa couldn’t think straight. She needed to wake up, refuel, clear her head. “I don’t suppose you guys have coffee, do you?”

  Rohra frowned in confusion.

  “Wake up juice. Caffeine. Stimulants.”

  “Oh yes. The Builders make such a thing. I will send for some.”

  Rohra went to the door. Isa sheathed her dagger and stared longingly at the bath across the room. She wasn’t sure if her legs would make it that far, but she was sure the risk would be worth the reward.

  After three failed attempts to push herself to her feet, she slumped back down to the mattress. Her helplessness left her shaking with frustration and anger. Rohra was right. She couldn’t keep pushing herself like this, but at the same time, she had to find enough strength to take care of that approaching ship.

  Assuming it wasn’t too late.

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “A quarter day, Your Imperial Majyr.”

  “How long is that in human hours?”

  Rohra shook her head, making her braid sway over her shoulder.

  “How long would it take a ship to get from that island shaped like a crescent moon to the western shore?”

  “Two days if the winds were in their favor.”

  The dull gray metal ship was moving twice that fast, giving her maybe half a day to stop them before it was too late. “Can you help me to the bath? I think it will help clear my head.”

  Rohra picked Isa up as if she were a child. Granted, the woman was big, with thick, sturdy bones and plenty of muscles, but having that much raw strength thrown at Isa was enough to shake her faith in herself. Everything here was so hard. Even breathing took extra effort. How was she ever going to find the strength to do what she needed to do?

  Isa sank into the hot bath that was big enough to seat ten people and laid her head against the curved stone edge. The water helped buoy her up, easing some of the strain caused by simply carrying her own body around.

  She slipped below the surface and hovered there, just floating. When her lungs began to burn, only then did she resurface to see Rohra’s worried face leaning over the edge.

  “I’m fine,” she told the warrior.

  “Your stimulant arrived.” Rohra held a small glass vial between her thick fingers.

  “Is it safe?”

  “As long as you are not growing a child.”

  “No chance of that. Warrian did the magical birth control thing with his garala.”

  Rohra froze, her eyes going wide in scandalized shock. “You were with him?”

  Isa stifled a groan. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything about that, was I?”

  “The council would have him executed for treason.”

  “Treason? How the hell is screwing me treasonous?”

  “By risking the dilution the imperial bloodline.”

  “No one was diluting anything. He was very careful.”

  Rohra nodded and handed the vial to Isa, giving her a thoughtful look.

  Isa downed the stimulant, choking on the bitter taste. “What’s on your mind, Rohra? You’ve got that look that says you have questions you’re afraid to ask. I’m really not uptight about all of the empress bullshit, so you don’t need to walk on eggshells around me.”

  “Why would someone walk on eggshells, Your Imperial Majyr?”

  Isa picked up what looked like a bo
ttle of liquid soap. “Never mind. Just spit it out.”

  “You let a warrior touch you. Why?”

  The smell of some kind of flower filled the steam as Isa washed. “Have you ever seen Warrian?”

  “No, Your Imperial Majyr.”

  “If you had, you wouldn’t be asking that question.”

  “No, I mean he is beneath you.”

  Isa grinned at the ridiculous idea. “He’s more of an on top kind of guy, though you do make a good point. I really wish I’d had more time with him.”

  And not just for sex. She missed the way he made her feel—like there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make her happy, like she was some shining hope, rather than a small-town librarian who could barely balance her own checkbook.

  A shivering kind of excitement began coursing through her, starting at her toes and working its way up. The water became too hot, and she felt like she needed to move.

  “I think the stimulant is working. I guess I should too.”

  “Please don’t go back in the device today, Your Imperial Majyr. We waited years for your arrival. Our warriors can hold off the enemy for another day or two.”

  “Sorry,” said Isa. “I saw a whole ship of baddies on their way. You don’t have enough warriors on the island to hold them off. And unless you’ve got another device tucked away somewhere, we really need to keep this one safe.”

  “A ship?”

  Isa nodded. “I saw them speeding past that crescent-shaped island. There were two of your ships on its tail, but not nearly fast enough to stop it.”

  “We would have heard of this. Our vessels would have sent out warning.”

  That thought got Isa moving, rinsing off the soap so she could get out. “What if they couldn’t? Now that I think about it, I didn’t see a single man aboard either ship. What if they’d been attacked and their crew eliminated?”

  “We must hurry and raise the alarm.”

  “You go ahead. I’ll throw some clothes on and meet you in the weapon room.”

  Rohra left. Isa had just thrown a gown on over her wet braids when her doors opened. Her skinny uncle was back, only this time, he was flanked by two armed guards. The look on his face said that he wasn’t about to take no for an answer this time. And Isa’s dagger was all the way on the other side of the ridiculously huge room.

  “You will do your duty,” said Uncle Geezer, the words a clear warning.

  She was so screwed. There was no way she could defend herself against three men, two of which were armed with garalas, and one of which was armed with disgusting intent.

  Isa did the only thing she could think to do to stall for time. She turned and ran to the balcony, stepping up onto the wide stone railing. “Come any closer, and I will jump.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Warrian heard Isa’s voice lifted in anger. He looked up to the top of the palace and saw her perched on the railing of a balcony that hung over the gardens below. There was no way she would survive that fall. Perhaps on the world where she grew up, but here…

  A man reached for her. She jerked her arm away, nearly knocking herself off balance.

  Warrian’s heart stopped beating. Air froze in his lungs. In that instant, seeing her nearly fall to her death, he realized that his feelings for her went far deeper than mere flesh or duty ever could.

  He broke into a dead run, sprinting up the stairs to the palace. After being on Earth for so long, his body felt heavy here, weak. Each movement was labored, making him maddeningly slow.

  By the time he’d raced through the lavish, vacant palace and to the giant double doors leading to the empress’s chamber, he was out of breath and shaking with fury.

  Isa screamed, her voice lifted more in fear than anger.

  Warrian gave both guards a warning scowl. “Let me pass.”

  “No one is to disturb the empress. Council’s orders.”

  “Who’s in there with her?” demanded Warrian.

  “Councilman Utral, the empress’s uncle, and two of his personal guards.”

  “Let me pass, or I will cut you down where you stand. Can’t you hear that the empress is in distress?”

  The two young men shared nervous looks. Warrian stopped waiting for their approval, and simply reached past them, plowing through the doorway.

  Isa was still there, on the ledge, her pale blue gown plastered against her body as the wind sucked at the fabric. She clutched a stone pillar, hugging it as she tried to slip past the reach of Councilman Utral.

  “Get down, child,” said Utral, a councilman Warrian recognized from his youth. The man showed his age, but the years had been kinder to him than some of the other councilmen.

  “Fuck you.” Her arms were barely long enough to hold onto the thick stone pillar. As she veered away from the bony grasp of Utral, her foot slipped on the stone. She started to fall, catching herself at the last moment.

  “Get away from her,” boomed Warrian, uncaring of the man’s station.

  Utral turned, his face going red with anger. “Identify yourself,” he ordered.

  Isa saw him rushing toward her. Her face lit with relieved joy. “Warrian!”

  He ignored the councilman, putting his entire focus on Isa. “Do not move. You will fall.”

  “You have no place here, warrior,” said Utral, his voice calm. “Leave us.”

  Anything Warrian would say to the man was likely going to get him thrown in prison, so he kept his mouth shut, pretending he heard nothing.

  Utral’s two personal guards shifted to block Warrian’s path. He didn’t know either of the men, but he could tell by their soft bodies that it had been a long time since they’d seen real combat. He activated his garala and looked at the councilman. “You should either have your men stand down, or send for more. These two aren’t going to even slow me.”

  The guards looked to Utral, who flicked his head toward the door, silently ordering them to leave. His gaze fell back to Warrian, and in it was a promise of retribution. “Get her down from there before she falls, but don’t try to run. I will have you shackled before you can reach the palace gates.”

  Warrian stared up at Isa, feeling some fundamental foundation inside of him shift and reshape itself around her. He refused to name what he felt, but disobeying these feelings was impossible. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”

  *****

  Isa couldn’t believe Warrian was actually here. She fell into his arms, shaking from head to toe. She cupped his face and went up to kiss him, but he covered her mouth with his hand. “Not here. Not now. We only have a moment before more guards arrive to take me into custody.”

  “I won’t let them.”

  He slid his finger over her lip, and his gaze sparkled with fireworks. “My commander will see to my defense. Don’t worry.”

  “Of course I’m going to worry. I care about you.”

  “How are you?” he asked, clearly changing the subject. “Have they… hurt you?”

  “The machine hurts like a son of a bitch, but until today, no one has bothered me—at least not while I was conscious. Rohra has guarded me.” She shook with revulsion. “Did you know that man was sent here to fuck me? That he thinks he’s my uncle? And they sent him to me? Don’t you people find that even a little disgusting?”

  “It’s repulsive,” he agreed. “But he will be back.”

  She was humming with a rush of adrenaline caused by nearly falling to her death, the thrill of Warrian’s appearance, and the chemical stimulant racing through her blood. She wasn’t sure if all of that combined sent her over the edge, or if that was an inevitable fall just waiting to happen, but whatever the case, Isa was done. She was sick of being tired and afraid. One way or another, she was dealing with this right now.

  She grabbed Warrian’s thick arm and pulled. “Come with me.”

  “Where are we going, Isa?”

  Before they’d made it to the door, it burst open, and a whole pile of guards flooded inside. “Way to knock, asshole
s.”

  Pretor made his way to the front, and at his side, was a red, fuming Utral. “Take this man to the cells below.”

  A burly guard reached for Warrian. Isa stepped in front of him. “No. He’s mine.”

  “Yours?” asked Pretor, his voice too soft, given the situation.

  “You heard me. I’m putting him in charge of my personal safety. Head guard or whatever you call it.”

  “That is not your decision.”

  “It is now,” she said. “I’m sick of you people and all of your rules. You want my help? You start following my rules.”

  “You are overstepping your bounds, Your Imperial Majyr,” said Utral. His face was still red, his fists clenched at his sides.

  “Really? Well, I guess you should get used to it. I’m planning to do a hell of a lot more overstepping. First, no one messes with Warrian or Rohra. I like them. And unless you want me to find new and interesting ways of using my pretty blue dagger, you leave them the fuck alone.”

  Pretor opened his mouth. “Your Imperial Majyr—”

  “Second,” she said, cutting him off, “no one will ever again step foot in this room without my express permission. I want a nice, sturdy bar installed on the door, and a giant do not disturb sign.”

  “Are you done, Your Imperial Majyr?” growled Utral.

  “Hell no. Not even close. Third, no one is sticking his dick in me unless I invite said dick. You break that rule, I cut off the offending appendage. Are we all clear? I’m not ready for kids, and I’m sure as hell not having them here.”

  “What do you mean by that? Where else would you have them?”

  “Home. Earth. Where I clearly belong. You guys don’t even have a fucking democracy. How the hell am I supposed to raise a kid in a place ravaged by war and ruled by a few elitist, rapey assholes?”

  The elitist, rapey assholes present glowered at her.

  Pretor’s nose flared with anger. He spoke to her, but his stare was directed at Warrian. “It’s clear to me that some of the misguided notions of our warriors have reached Your Imperial Majyr’s ears. For that I am deeply sorry. It will not happen again. Guard, take Warrian away from here so the empress can think more clearly.”