The Krinar's Informant

by Charmaine Pauls

  “Liv!”

  Hans crawled to her on his hands and knees, but the next explosion leveled him with the ground. He curled into a ball next to her, covering his ears with his hands.

  They were under attack. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t Friday. It couldn’t be Zavir. They had to get away.

  “Cut me loose,” she shouted over the noise, but no reaction came from Hans.

  It took enormous effort to get onto her knees, using her bound hands to push herself up. Adrenalin gave her the energy she needed to straighten. There was no time to try and cut herself loose. She needed to get to Erik and Karl. She hopped to the door over shards of glass. The sharp pieces cut her injured as well as her good foot, but she no longer registered the pain. There was only survival instinct. When she threw open the door, pandemonium met her. There was chaos everywhere. Men forced themselves from windows and doors, falling on top of each other. They writhed where they fell, holding their heads between their hands.

  “Erik!”

  She started hopping in the direction of the sleeping quarters. Where was she even supposed to look?

  “Karl!”

  The bawling of the men as well as the ringing sound that wasn’t only in her ears washed out her calls. Halfway across the yard, she spotted Erik. He was hunched over an automatic rifle, half running, half stumbling in the direction of the office.

  “Erik!”

  He didn’t hear her. He kept on fighting his way through the ripples of air as one would tread against a strong current of water. About to yell again, she bit off the sound as an unnaturally tall man appeared on the perimeter of the light. He stood out not only because he was so big, but also because he moved effortlessly in the midst of the destruction. Her gaze slipped from the ease of his gait to his face, and then she froze.

  Zavir.

  Impossible.

  But there he was.

  A different kind of pain lodged in her chest. He’d lied to her. The truth of the realization hurt more than a thousand cuts on the sole of her foot.

  Agile and fast, he moved like a predator, a weapon in his hand. As he reached the first man writhing on the ground, he aimed the gun.

  The word left her lips before she could stop it. “No!”

  Nothing more than a blue zap released from the gun, rendering the man motionless. A stun gun. At the sound of her voice, Zavir looked up, his gray eyes so dark they looked like onyx, and his stance like a tiger ready to pounce. His eyes focused on her. When recognition set in, what she saw in those strange, glowing depths frightened her more than any torture. Time seemed to pause as they stared at each other–her, Zavir, and Erik–each registering shock, and then everything happened at once.

  Erik lifted the rifle.

  “Erik, no!”

  A shot rang out before she’d formulated the last word. Zavir glanced at his shoulder where a red stain was growing on his T-shirt. Erik lifted the rifle again, but Zavir had his own weapon trained, and it wasn’t the stun gun. This time, there was no zap.

  Her protesting scream fell on deaf ears. Erik fell to his knees, the fabric of his combat pants flowering like red petals on his thigh.

  “No!”

  She hopped toward where Erik had fallen, but a strong arm clamped around her waist, lifting her off her feet.

  “Let me go!” She kicked and fought as much as her constraints allowed.

  “Let her go, asshole,” a familiar voice said behind them.

  No, no. No. Not Karl, too.

  Zavir twirled around, his weapon aimed in the direction of the new threat.

  “Don’t hurt–” she started, but Karl’s rifle fell from his hands as he dropped to his knees.

  “Oh, my God! You shot them! No! Karl? Erik!”

  Repeatedly, she yelled their names, but neither of her brothers moved.

  Zavir had lied to her.

  He’d broken his promise.

  Chapter Eight

  The persistent beep of the communication device made Zavir growl. Not now. He was lying next to his little informant, watching her sleeping form. She was peaceful, no longer in pain. The memory of the state of her body, battered and bloodied, ignited fresh rage. He should’ve killed those damn brothers and tortured the leader. They didn’t deserve her. If it weren’t for the affection she harbored for them, he wouldn’t have given it another thought. To have gone through what she’d suffered, that affection had to go deep.

  Another beep, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Gritting his teeth, he got to his feet and covered Liv’s body with a sheet before exiting the room to talk without disturbing her. He gave the voice command and a holographic image flickered to life. It was Korum.

  “How is she doing?”

  He bit out the words. “Fine, considering.”

  “We need to debrief.”

  “Not now. She may wake up at any moment.”

  Korum’s expression hardened. “It wasn’t a request.”

  “The human–”

  “The human is part of the debriefing.”

  He didn’t like the way Korum said it. Not one bit.

  “I’m waiting for you in the meeting room.”

  The hologram disintegrated.

  An unwelcome foreboding nestled in his stomach, one he couldn’t ignore. With another glance at the sealed entrance to the bedroom where Liv was sleeping, he stomped through the quarters to the main exit, commanding it to open and seal behind him. The grounds were big, but it took him only minutes to make it by pod to the big room in the center of the settlement.

  Korum waited alone for him, another bad sign. The leader’s back was turned to the entrance. He was staring at something that played out on a hologram. Coming to a stop a step behind, Zavir took in the scene. Liv’s brothers were being treated for their wounds with nano-healers. In a separate vision, the rest of the cronies were already undergoing the rehabilitation procedure.

  “Congratulations,” Korum said without turning. “You did well.”

  He was in no mood to be congratulated, not with what Liv had endured and his thoughts being with her instead of the mission.

  Korum faced him slowly. “We announced the arrest of the rest of the Resistance world-wide. It made headline news.”

  “I’ve seen.”

  Korum chuckled. “You’re fast becoming a legend. The Council will be pleased. They’re looking for a new Protector. This will count considerably in your favor.”

  “Good.” Ambition was the last thing on his mind, right now. “How are the Earthlings taking it?”

  “The fact that there was no casualties made it easier to go down. Their ambassadors are reporting it as positive token of our goodwill and desire to live in peace.”

  His voice came out harsh. “They deserved worse than death.”

  Korum seemed to understand the underlying reason for his suppressed rage, because he asked, “How is the girl?”

  “She’s good. Physically, at least.”

  “Ellet wants to see her.”

  “There’s nothing more the doctor can do for her. I healed her wounds.”

  “You don’t understand. It’s not just about checking her physical health.”

  “Then what?” he said, a tad bit too aggressive.

  “The ambassador to Earth wants a report from a medical professional.”

  “What’s his interest in her?”

  Korum gave him a level look. “What is yours, Zavir?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t keep her locked up. She’s a free person. The South African ambassador is concerned about her safety. She’s part of the Resistance. She needs to be rehabilitated and released like the rest of the group.”

  His anger flared. “She gave us the information. She doesn’t believe in the Resistance.”

  “That’s what she says.”

  “That’s why Ellet wants her. They want to probe her brain.”

  Korum shrugged. “Standard procedure.”

  “No.”

>   “No?” Korum seemed amused. “You’re assuming I’m asking again.”

  “No one is touching her except me.”

  “That’s not for you to decide. She’s not a prisoner of war. You have to hand the woman over to be checked by our doctors before we return her to her people. I know she helped you, and you’re uncharacteristically grateful to her, but you have no basis on which to keep her here.”

  He steeled his voice. “Yes, I do.”

  Korum raised a brow. “What may that be?”

  “I’m claiming her as charl.”

  Chapter Nine

  With a contented sigh, Liv stretched. Succumbing to the luxurious feeling of waking fully restored, she took another moment to enjoy the soft comfort of the bed and the perfect temperature of the room. Then her eyes flew wide open. It was all wrong. It should’ve been a scratchy sheet on a hollow mattress in a room feeling like an oven in the tropical climate. Her body should ache from training, her muscles in a permanent state of soreness. The alarm should’ve rung, too early. She should’ve been groggy and blurry-eyed from too little sleep.

  She went rigid as memories flooded her mind. The attack. Erik. Karl. Zavir had shot them. He’d taken her, and then everything had gone black. The torture. She blinked. She was lying on her stomach, a sheet as cool and smooth as water covering her. Underneath, she was naked. Turning on her back, she took in her surroundings. She’d seen simulations of Krinar dwellings during her Resistance training enough times to know where she was. The walls were off-white and the domed ceiling transparent, like a huge skylight. Through it, she could see the cloudless sky.

  Sitting up, she lifted her feet and looked over her shoulder at her back. No wounds. Not as much as a scratch. Even the persistent throbbing in her neck where Zavir had bitten her was gone. So was the ache between her legs. As she glanced down, her cheeks heated at the thought that someone’s hands had been there, inside her. All traces of sex were washed away. Her skin looked silky and blemish-free. Someone had cleaned and treated her with a nano-healer. Shit. She’d probably been shined, not that she wasn’t thankful for the absence of pain.

  Glancing around the room, she saw no clothes. There was no furniture but the bed she’d been sleeping in. Even now, the mattress adjusted under her backside, molding into a comfortable cushion that somehow took the strain of sitting upright off her back. Getting to her feet, she looked for cameras or some sort of communication device, but there was nothing. She tied the sheet around her body and inspected the room. She felt remarkably well, better than she’d felt in years, but it was only physically. Inside, she was frantic. Where were Erik and Karl? Were they alive? If Zavir had lied about the day of the attack, he could’ve lied about keeping the Resistance soldiers safe, too. She didn’t worry about Zavir’s injury. She’d witnessed how his wounds healed themselves. No doubt he was already back to normal.

  There was no point in looking for an exit. The only way she was getting out was if a K released her. There was nothing to do but wait. Her rested state made her sharply aware of how hungry and thirsty she was. The usual aches and pains that came with combat training, as well as the hardness of the life she’d endured for the last few months, masked other, minor discomforts such as a need for water and food.

  She’d just sat down on the bed again when an opening appeared in the wall. Relief and anger washed simultaneously through her as a tall, broad-shouldered, perfectly handsome, and dangerous-looking K walked through it.

  Zavir.

  He was hands down the most frightening and attractive man she’d ever met, but anger overrode every other emotion.

  “You bastard.” She jumped to her feet. “You lied to me.”

  He gave her a closed-lipped smile. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

  She charged at him, forgetting for a moment he wasn’t a human man she could bring down with her fast fists and martial art skills. He easily caught her wrists before she could plant them in his stomach.

  “Where are they?” She jerked her arms, trying to free them. “What have you done to them?”

  “If you’re referring to your brothers, they’ve been healed.”

  She calmed slightly at that. “You shot them.”

  His onyx-colored eyes cooled several degrees, sending a chill down her spine. “They deserved much worse for what they did to you.”

  “You said you wouldn’t hurt them.”

  “Even though they were going to kill me, I made sure I inflicted only flesh wounds to immobilize them.”

  She pulled again, and that time he let her go. “Where are they?”

  “In aftercare. They’ll be free to go tomorrow.”

  Her shoulders sagged in relief. “I want to see them.”

  “In time.” His eyes trailed over her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than ever. Did you…? Was it you…?”

  “Yes.” His voice was strained. “I administered the treatment.”

  Her gaze slipped to his shoulder. “Your wound?”

  “Has healed, thanks to the nanocytes in my body.” His smile turned cocky. “Thanks for your concern.”

  “I’m grateful you healed me,” she replied softly, “but you still lied to me.”

  “I had to. It was in your best interest.”

  Her anger escalated again. “I got tortured, believing I was protecting you. I trusted you.” That hurt the worst. “I held back telling. I took…” She couldn’t even say it. “I took the terrible things Hans did to me to protect you.”

  “I know what you took,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for what you suffered. If I hadn’t given you my word, I would’ve tortured your leader to death myself.”

  She wrapped her arms around her body. “Where is he?”

  “At the Neuroscience Center, awaiting rehabilitation.”

  “They’re not…?”

  “No,” he said tightly, “they’re not torturing him. They don’t need to.”

  “They’re extracting the information about the Resistance from his brain, aren’t they?” When he didn’t reply, she asked, “When are you letting him go?”

  “Tomorrow, with the others.”

  “Then I’m going tomorrow, too?”

  Instead of answering, he turned for the exit. “You must be hungry. You’ve been out cold for almost twenty hours.”

  She followed him into a bigger area that, according to the strange, floating furniture, served as lounge, dining room, and kitchen. From what Anita had described to her, it was a smaller unit than the one in which Anita lived. Maybe it was guest quarters.

  “Where are we?” she asked as he stepped into the kitchen part of the room. “Lenkarda?”

  “Yes.”

  He rambled off some voice commands, at which dishes miraculously started appearing. She’d had a few picnic lunches with Anita on the beach, but the table had already been set with some of the exotic foods from Krina when she’d arrived. Seeing it being done made her gape as the hovering tabletop quickly filled up with colorful, strange-looking dishes and pitchers of purple juice. No ice.

  “Sit,” he said, pointing at a side of the tabletop.

  She looked around for a chair, and sure enough, a plank came floating toward her to fit underneath her and mold around her back. A pleasant sensation travelled through her body as the carpet not only cushioned but also gently massaged her feet.

  “I’m serious, Zavir. I need to see my brothers.”

  “I said soon. You need to eat.” He lifted a brow in challenge. “You want me to feed you?”

  “No, thanks.” Pulling one of the dishes toward her, she sniffed the red concoction. “What is it?”

  “Taste it. It’s not fried chicken, but I’m sure you’ll like it.”

  She used a tong-like utensil to serve a portion on her plate. Taking a small bite, she took her time to savor the taste. A mixture of sweet and tangy exploded on her tongue. Nothing compared to it. The closest she could come to a description was tangerine mixed with raspb
erry, but it didn’t do the food justice.

  “Good?” he said with a grin as she stuffed the rest in her mouth.

  “It’s not fried chicken,” she said with a full mouth, unwilling to give him any satisfaction.

  She was hungrier than she ever recalled. A lack of good food and eating for the sole purpose of filling up her stomach with dry bread dunked in black coffee like the rest of the soldiers had over the months squashed her appetite, but it seemed to be back with a vengeance. Did it have something to do with the nano-healing? Maybe it had restored her metabolism.

  She tried a green dish. It had a meaty taste, the cubes melting on her tongue. She caught herself just in time to keep from humming her approval. Zavir filled a glass with the purple liquid and pushed it toward her.

  “Thank you.” She took a sip and then gulped down the lot. Delicious. “You were saying about when I was leaving?”

  Something in the way he stood there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her, made her put down the glass.

  “Zavir?”

  He walked around the table and stopped next to her. Cupping her cheek with a broad palm, he looked at her tenderly, as if to soften a blow. “You’re not leaving, Liv.”

  Chapter Ten

  “What?” Liv reeled from his touch. “What do you mean I’m not leaving?”

  He dropped his hand, his cool demeanor back in place. “You’re staying.”

  The food turned sour in her stomach. Bile pushed up in her throat. “I don’t understand. Am I a prisoner?”

  His disturbing eyes glittered like cold gemstones. “It depends on how you look at it.”

  She pushed away from the table, struggling to get up from the plank. “You can’t do that. You can’t keep me against my will.”