Decadence: Darkstar Mercenaries Book 4

by Carven, Anna

  “There’s a lot of that.”

  “Good lord.” Sienna mock-fanned her face. Rykal smirked. Jaxis just looked confused.

  “Let’s stay on topic, Arin,” Kai said coolly, and Sienna thought she detected a hint of a Darkside accent in his English.

  Darkside? The notorious unregulated district at the edge of Teluria was the unofficial capital of the Syndicate. An uneasy feeling crept up on her. “And you? What are you supposed to be here for?”

  The human offered a slight bow. “Well, Sienna, once you have had your introduction, I need to talk with you about more serious matters.”

  “Serious…?”

  “The Syndicate,” Kai said calmly, switching to perfect Universal.

  Sienna bristled as she was reminded of the clusterfuck she’d left back on Earth. “And what would you know about that?” Who the hell are you, anyway?

  In a single fluid motion, Kai shrugged off his dark jacket, folding it over his arm. Then he removed one of his shiny silver cufflinks and folded back perfectly pressed french cuffs to reveal his left wrist.

  Serpentine tattoos covered his skin in the form of vivid swirls of inky blues and reds and blacks.

  Sienna went very still. “You’re Syndicate.”

  “Was,” Kai replied, not missing a beat. “I work for the Darkstar Corporation now. I need to discuss something important with you.”

  “How very reassuring.” She shot him an acid-tipped smile.

  Arin laughed. “Don’t worry. Despite his checkered past, Kai’s a good egg. Zyara would have kicked his ass to the curb by now if he wasn’t.”

  “Zyara?” Sienna stared at the human in surprise. “You guys are…?”

  “She is my mate,” Kai said, a hint of some raw, savage emotion entering his voice. Like the Kordolians, he was a little bit scary. “So you should have no doubt as to where my loyalties lie.”

  “Okay, point taken. So what’s this all about?”

  “You want to do this now?”

  “Might as well. Get the unpleasantness over and done with.” Sienna glanced at Arin, seeking an ally.

  “Go ahead,” the human replied. “We’ll save the good stuff for last.”

  Kai’s expression turned cold. “Connor Ryan is a former romantic interest of yours.”

  “Former,” she said bluntly. “Very former. Not for a very long time now. Why are we even talking about him?”

  “After he visited your restaurant, he was picked up and questioned by a member of our First Division.”

  Holy crap.

  These guys had taken Connor?

  A torrent of mixed emotions coursed through her. Unease mingled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. Still, Connor might be a jerk, but she didn’t want him to die.

  First Division? What is that?

  According to Ikriss’s CV, he was Second Division, and she’d seen how he fought.

  Like a demon.

  With preternatural speed.

  What did that make the First Division, then?

  She suppressed a shudder.

  “Don’t worry, he’s alive and intact.” Kai chuckled softly, as if the image of some lethal silver alien putting the fear of the Universe into an arrogant New York princeling from a prominent crime family was immensely amusing to him. “We let him go. He told us enough. He had an interesting theory about the Syndicate and their involvement in all this.”

  “Connor has a lot of weird theories,” Sienna said wearily. She really didn’t want to talk about that guy. He was nothing more than a bad memory from her past, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  “Well, there was enough in it for us to test it. Turns out he was onto something.” Kai straightened his loose cuff and replaced his gleaming silver cufflink, hiding his vivid tattoos. He looked up at Sienna, his dark eyes hard like obsidian. “Turns out that every single woman we recovered from that Ephrenian ship owes a debt to the Syndicate.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Revulsion swept through her, mingling with bitter anger. “They sold us to the Ephrenians to recover their debts?”

  “The Federation’s been cracking down hard on the Syndicate of late. My sources tell me that’s the reason they’re going through a restructuring phase. They’re trying to recover a large tranche of outstanding loans so they can sink their capital into off-planet investments.”

  “By selling us out?” A cold emptiness opened up in the pit of her stomach. I went through all that crap because some assholes decided they wanted to move some money? She should have been angry, but she just felt sick.

  Rykal’s low chuckle was so unexpected it cut through the tension like a knife. “‘Kriss is furious, and he normally has ice flowing through his veins. I’ve never seen him like this before. I almost have a particle of sympathy for this so-called Syndicate. When he gets his body back, he’ll destroy them.” The Kordolian’s smile was razor-sharp. “You don’t have to dwell on your suffering anymore, human. Theirs will be far, far worse.”

  “This is your way of trying to be nice, isn’t it?”

  “Revenge is a balm to soothe the soul, isn’t it?”

  “For you, maybe. For me, it’s Belgian dark chocolate ice-cream, but that’s beside the point. If the Syndicate’s still out to get me or my debt, they might try and squeeze my family, especially if I’ve disappeared from the face of the Earth. My mom. My sister. Someone needs to talk to them. They might be in danger. That’s how the Syndicate operates, isn’t it?”

  This is going to be fucking uncomfortable, but it’s too late now.

  Sienna had never told her mother or her sister, Isabella, about her dealings with the Syndicate. As far as they knew, she ran a busy, successful restaurant in New York. That was all. After all, her mother had always been critical of her chosen career.

  Her mom thought the only worthwhile professions were those that required at least two degrees. Their relationship was a little more than toxic.

  That was why Sienna had made a point of keeping very firm boundaries between them. She spoke to her mom, who lived in London, once a month via link-call, and she only visited once a year, usually at Christmas time.

  She spoke to Isabella even less, because her half-sister was a busy executive who worked long hours and somehow found the time to stay super fit and perfectly groomed and attend all these extravagant corporate social whatevers.

  Sienna didn’t know how Bella did it. Her idea of a good night in involved a bottle of wine and some home-cooked pasta and a cheesy, over-the-top action holofilm or two.

  And as for her father?

  She had no idea who he was, and she didn’t care. All she knew was that he’d paid her mom a monthly maintenance fee when she was a kid in exchange for their silence.

  Must be someone important.

  Really important, huh?

  Really, screw him.

  “We’ve already placed your mother and your sister under discreet surveillance,” Kai informed her. “They won’t know a thing unless we feel they’re in danger, but it’s unlikely that the Syndicate will go after them. They won’t want to attract unnecessary attention to themselves right now.”

  Sienna let out a sigh of relief. “I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it. You still haven’t said anything about the elephant in the room, though.”

  “Elephant?” Rykal looked around, suddenly confused. “What is that?” The switch from cold, cynical warrior to slightly oblivious alien would have been amusing, if not for the seriousness of the situation.

  Both Arin and Kai gave Sienna a serious look. Jaxis’s expression was as hard as stone.

  “Well, the fact of the matter is that I’d just gotten back to Earth and was minding my own business when I was attacked by a deadly assassin wearing a creepy white mask, and he didn’t hold back. That’s not normal Syndicate debt recovery procedure, is it?”

  “Nah,” Rykal drawled, getting in before anyone else could, his expression turning back to cold and lethal. “We’re still working on that. The Sile
nt One wasn’t the Syndicate’s doing. Not in infinity would they be able to get a monster like him to do their bidding. This has the Old Empire written all over it. There’s something about you that makes them want you so badly.”

  Sienna opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. A dark tentacle of fear rose up inside her, threatening to suffocate her.

  Arin moved closer, as if to reassure her, but Rykal shot his human mate a dark look, as if to say: let me handle this. “Don’t you worry, Sienna of Earth. Whatever it is that they want, it doesn’t matter. You belong to Ikriss now, and I know him very well. He will not allow them to touch you, ever.”

  The Kordolian’s words felt powerful, but she wanted to hear them from Ikriss’s very own lips…

  Again and again.

  Stars, how she wanted to see him… how she craved his touch.

  “I just want to know that he’s okay… that he’ll be fine.”

  “Oh, he will be. And right now, he needs you… more than you might ever realize.” Rykal inclined his head, his golden eyes becoming slightly unfocused. “He says your food was very good, by the way. He would not mind another serving. And he admits he was slightly mistaken. It seems eating can be an enjoyable process after all. He will speak to you later… alone.”

  “Are you a mind reader?”

  “Nah.” Rykal tapped the spot just behind his ear. “Comm.”

  You just spoke to him…

  A thrill of anticipation made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Warmth spread between her thighs as she thought of his deep, commanding voice... telling her to pleasure herself for his own personal satisfaction… and torture.

  When they finally got together it was going to be completely, utterly insane.

  “Fine,” she breathed, barely able to contain herself as her legs trembled beneath her. “Fine. I’ll be patient, and I’ll trust you people to do what you’re clearly so good at doing. In the meantime…” She glanced over her shoulder, looking through the gleaming glass doors of the preservers. Protein based… raw… She thought long and hard about Kordolian preferences as she spied a basket of beautiful big brown eggs and an entire side of beef that was hanging upside-down. “Steak tartare, anybody?”

  While her world spun out of control, and faceless assassins and sinister gangsters and distant alien terrors threatened to invade her waking thoughts; while her desire for Ikriss grew and grew, driving her to a quiet kind of insanity, all she could do was feed people, right?

  That always made her feel better.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Why do they want her so badly?

  Ikriss had turned the question over and over in his feverish mind, running through a hundred different scenarios. By now, it was Universal knowledge that humans were reproductively compatible with Kordolians, but there were billions of human females on Earth.

  It wouldn’t make sense for them to go to all the trouble of sending one of the most deadly Silent Ones to retrieve her.

  Maybe the assassin had really been after him. He had his fair share of mortal enemies, after all.

  It doesn’t matter now, anyway. She is mine.

  They would never lay a hand upon her again.

  And he would not stop until those responsible for her suffering were completely destroyed.

  Ikriss leaned forward, pressing his elbows into the desk. He dropped his head and massaged his temples. His fingers grazed over the bumps of his severed horn-buds, eliciting a jolt of tingly pleasurable pain. The bases were a lot more sensitive than usual. He touched an area that was particularly raw.

  Shit.

  His horns were growing back, breaking through the layer of skin that had grown over them.

  Another effect of the Mating Fever, probably.

  Letting out a deep sigh, he stood abruptly, his vision dimming briefly as the machines in his chest worked to maintain his circulation.

  “I-is everything all right, Sir?” Asherin appeared in the doorway, alerted by Ikriss’s sudden movements. Being one of the medically trained staff onboard the ship, Asherin had access to Ikriss’s biodata, which was being monitored through the machines.

  At the first sign of a problem, Asherin would administer emergency treatment and call for immediate assistance, rushing Ikriss back to Zharek’s treatment chamber, which was immediately below them.

  “Fine, Ashrein,” Ikriss growled as he slowly walked across the room, tilting his head from side to side to work the stiffness out of his neck. After spending an interminable length of time perusing surveillance logs and old intelligence reports, Ikriss could take it no longer. Work was no longer an effective distraction, and every time he thought about Sienna, his arousal spiked, sending him into a fresh world of agony. “I’ve been sitting in this cursed chair for too long. You up for a swim?”

  The new pool on Silence’s lower decks was modeled on the original one in the Fleet Station. It had been installed after the mates lobbied the General, citing the fact that they spent so much time onboard the fleet’s primary vessel, which had become the official headquarters for all their Earth-based operations.

  Turns out humans seemed to enjoy swimming almost as much as Kordolians.

  Asherin offered a small, stiff bow. “I’m sorry, Sir, but Zharek has advised that you should remain in your quarters until the surgery.” A little of the silver drained from the Kordolian’s face. He was skirting very close to giving Ikriss orders, and that was unheard of. The logical part of Ikriss understood that it was for his own wellbeing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be annoyed by it.

  “You don’t want to have to restrain me, do you, Asherin? Because then you would have to notify Tarak.”

  “That would be… less than ideal.” Asherin stiffened. With the exception of the First Division and the Five Commanders, there was not a single Kordolian in the entire Darkstar Corporation that didn’t possess at least some degree of fear of Tarak al Akkadian, even though they revered him like a god.

  “Indeed. So you will check with your other boss as to whether a brief immersion in cold water will impact on my condition. I suspect he will tell you that it is of no consequence, because I feel far from dead. Otherwise, you can put me back in stasis and sedate me to oblivion before I do something ridiculous.” He gritted his teeth, his fangs sinking into the soft skin of his lower lip. Really, he knew that wasn’t an option right now. Zharek had warned him of the dangers of oversedation; of his ever-increasing tolerance to the powerful drugs that they injected into his body. “I have the Fever, Asherin. You have yet to learn what that is like.” He bared his blood-tipped fangs.

  The assistant bowed again. “I understand.” He activated his comm and engaged in a brief discussion with Zharek. Then he turned to Ikriss. “He says it is actually a good idea, and that his opinion merely constitutes advice, and not strict orders. He will meet us there with one of the First Division.”

  Ikriss laughed softly. “I’m that much of a liability, am I?”

  “Merely taking precautions, Sir. Even in your current state, we all know that you are still a formidable match.”

  Ikriss’s lips curved into a bitter smile as he cursed his strange predicament. The training chamber was the place where he normally let out his pent-up frustrations. “Believe me, I have no intention of fighting anybody right now. Let’s go.” He strode out of the room, leaving a slightly startled Asherin to chase after him.

  What infernal luck.

  But at least he’d eaten well.

  Sienna had sent him dish after dish of carefully crafted Earth food, each one made from the meat of various land and water dwelling animals that had been sourced from Earth. Each one was more intricate and delicious than the last, incorporating flavors he hadn’t even thought possible.

  At first, he’d been skeptical, but after the first few meals, he’d started to appreciate not only the flavors, but the textures and the presentation. He noticed the delicate arrangements; the subtle flourishes, the intricate tech
niques.

  Meat sliced so finely it was as thin as parchment leaves. Liquids of varying viscosity and color; swirled, dotted, feathered, and layered across a dish in a way that should have been a complete mess, and yet somehow it became artistry.

  All imbued with her rich, heady scent.

  The care and detail in her work was evident.

  She was sending him messages in the form of food.

  Humans were complicated creatures, indeed.

  And he’d been wrong about one thing.

  The task of eating for sustenance could indeed be a pleasurable one. She’d just proven it to him, in the most eloquent way possible. In fact, his mouth watered slightly as he thought of her food.

  Exquisite, just like her.

  Of course, it helped that every fiber in his being was primed for her, the yearning so strong it was akin to physical pain.

  Ikriss strode along the corridor, his horn-buds throbbing, his chest tightening as he quickened his pace. His muscles started to burn. His vision went a little blurry.

  He slowed a little, allowing Asherin to catch up.

  How fucking irritating.

  He, who had never been in anything but peak physical condition, was now reduced to this cursed weakened state.

  For her sake, he had to get better, because he could not bear the thought of not being able to protect her.

  Not now, not ever.

  He would do anything to keep his power.

  Even sell his soul to the nonexistent god of the Nine Hells.

  As Ikriss rounded a corner, the distant sound of voices reached his ears. He caught a wisp of an intoxicating scent, so slight he thought he was imagining things.

  Ignoring his burning chest and limbs, he quickened his pace.

  “Sir?” Asherin queried, but Ikriss barely took notice of him.

  Unable to stop himself, he followed the trail of the scent like a starved varhund.

  It wasn’t just his imagination.

  The scent was growing stronger, flooding his heightened senses. A jolt of exquisite pain went through his horn-buds. His nostrils flared. His cock stirred.

  Asherin was communicating with someone over the comm. The assistant’s voice floated to him in fragments.