In battles past, she’d gathered her energy, faith in her people, faith in her bloodline. With Tory by her side, all her energy focused on him, on their connection. Jezar seemed to soak it up like a sponge.
Perhaps alone, she might have been sucked dry, but Tory was there, echoing her hopes and dreams with his own. Somehow, Tory didn’t just complete her. He amplified her, the sum of the two of them being so much more than each of them alone.
You have no idea how rare it is to touch something so strong and powerful. Jezar sounded awed.
I would think Ardasians would mate this way, she answered.
Many do, I’m sure, but they do not allow other Ardasians to…experience it too. Humans are different in that. When you love, you share.
Slowly, Jezar slipped away, his touch lingering a moment and then disappearing. Alex hoped it had helped.
“We’ve reached the window to land at Saladen.” Tory prepared the others. “Orbital entry in ten.”
Mentally, Alex counted down and the shuttle rattled when they hit the upper atmosphere of the planet. She stared at the screen.
Home.
She’d been on Teran Two, Three and Five. She’d studied Teran Four. None of the Teran planets were alike, despite being terraformed within the same five-year period.
Teran One had a thick layer of clouds that kept the temperatures cool, but not too cold. The planet’s land mass was made up of large islands, all with temperate climates, each with their own special claims to fame. Perhaps the topography of Teran One was the reason Ena had initially attempted to spread the plague on Teran Four—islands could hide isolated pockets of survivors.
Bloodlines tended to congregate on individual islands and trade between them was regulated by the throne. The clouds parted and Alex spotted four of the largest islands. Saladen, the capital city, sprawled in the center of Stender Island. Across a narrow strait, she spotted Zeerah Island. Both were large and dominated the area just north of the center of a large ocean. The other two largest islands were further south and had a slightly warmer climate.
God, she’d missed her planet.
“Please identify yourself,” a voice droned through the system’s speakers.
Tory glanced her way and smiled. She answered, “This is Commander Alexandra Zeerah requesting permission to land. I am here for the Shoshoni.”
She noted Tory’s hand tightened on the console. Gregor had demanded Alex’s head, but was he still in power?
“We had reports that you were dead, Commander,” the man said. “May I just say, I’m happy they were in error.”
“Thank you.”
Of course, it wasn’t that easy. The tower demanded proof of identity and the identities of her crew. Tory’s presence hadn’t even rattled the tower. They seemed thrilled that Alex and Tory were back on Teran One.
Cleared to land, all the official rigmarole finished, the time to face what lay outside the shuttle doors had come.
They landed at the huge space port near the city and the tension in the ship increased. All of them knew they might step off that shuttle into a fight. Or not.
Jezar had no insights into their situation. When Alex shot him a questioning look, he shook his head. He read nothing out of the ordinary out there. She shrugged. Not much they could do. Just walk out and do what they came to do.
Pulzer, groggy and grumpy, was now awake and glaring at the rest of the crew.
Jezar’s response was hard and mean. “You feel me, Pulzer? I’ll know. The minute you think about running, calling out, betraying us, I’ll know. And it would be my pleasure to run a laser through your heart.”
The cold menace in Jezar’s voice made Alex shiver and Pulzer turned pasty white, the glare wiped away. Jezar stepped back and Pulzer stepped toward the door. To do so, he brushed past Tesia, who tensed and recoiled. Pulzer’s attention focused on her, a sneer on his face.
Jezar moved so fast in the small confines of the shuttle Alex barely had time to gasp before the man’s hand connected with Pulzer’s kidney.
Pulzer doubled over, a gasping, retching sound escaping him. Jezar towered over him, his green eyes blazing with fire. “Every thought. She is worth a million of you. You allow even one more thought about her and I’ll kill you, mission or no mission.”
The man couldn’t even talk, but Pulzer managed a nod. Alex glanced at Tesia. She stared at Jezar, her expression troubled and awed.
Foche blinked and stared at Tesia. Poor Foche. He didn’t stand a chance when it came to stature against the Ardasian, though Foche towered over Jezar by about two inches. She wondered what Foche thought about the whole thing. He struck her as a man on a mission to die. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen that. There was a fanatical light on the faces of men who had decided to die on a mission. It had never been something she trusted.
“Let’s go. We’re running out of time.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The last time Tory had been on Teran One, he had managed to slip unnoticed and undetected onto a cargo ship going planetside. This time, he was arriving with one of the premier heroes of Teran One society, Commander Alexandra Zeerah.
He’d seen the news vids streamed to him before they’d landed. The people had thought she was dead and rejoiced that she lived. He knew his mate was revered on her home planet. And why not? She was brave, beautiful and intelligent—a fine example of good breeding. A huge swarm of people waited in the shuttle bay, ostensibly to get a glimpse of the woman everyone thought was dead. He rolled his shoulders and that old feeling of not being good enough came over him.
A warm hand clasped his shoulder and he glanced down to find those loving golden eyes focused on him. To his surprise, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him in front of everyone in the crowded shuttle bay. It was just a brush of her lips, but it was a statement to the crowd. She claimed him. He was hers and she was his.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and slid her into his arms. No light, airy kisses were going to satisfy him at the moment. He leaned down and captured her mouth with his, a dominant possession. Her surrender only heightened his need and he forgot the crowds, forgot the mission, forgot everything but the feel of his Saria in his arms.
Later, my love. We have to concentrate. Though Alex sent him the thought, he felt her rising excitement, her pride, her love. It made it difficult to pull away.
Tesia’s poke in his shoulder worked better. “Do you suppose you two could save it for later?” she hissed.
Slowly, savoring every last moment, Tory ended the kiss. Still, he cupped her face, well aware that what lay ahead may make these their last tender moments together.
Together, they turned toward the crowd. Vid news crews swarmed them and asked them questions. Alex put on her irresistible charm and answered every one of them. Some of them were insulting, a deliberate attempt of the ruling party to discredit her.
“Commander, is it true that you stole a Teran One weapon?” one man asked her, his vid camera rolling.
Alexandra gazed at them all directly. “Of course not. And I’m sure when the details are declassified, I will be exonerated of any accusations of wrongdoing.”
Damn. He wished he could carry that ringing conviction in his tone the way she did. One good thing about Alex—her reputation on Teran One was impeccable. What she said carried weight with the population, a miscalculation on the part of Gregor. He believed rumor was all that was needed to destroy her. He was wrong.
His Alexandra was a very popular figure. Even Teran Two loved her for her humanitarian missions. She stood for freedom, integrity and love of one’s planet, and the people knew it. Gregor had played into Ena’s hands.
“Is it true you’ve mated to a known criminal?” another vid reporter asked. Tory took a deep breath. They knew it would be like this, anticipated it. While the furor raged around the very popular Commander Zeerah, Jezar, Pulzer and the other two were slipping away to a predetermined location.
“Commander Tory Ingle is my Sara
t. His Saria claim was established by a Judge of Light. I have seen the evidence. He was innocent of the charge leveled against him.” Again, Alex had such a determined tone it swept away doubt. Tory wondered how she did it. Her demeanor dispelled doubts and inspired confidence. Come to think of it, she’d always been that way.
“Commander Ingle, will you seek damages for the five years you spent in exile?” a female vid reporter asked him and batted her lashes at him.
“I have no need of seeking revenge.” He held Alex’s hand and she squeezed it. “The contract is enough for me.”
Liar! She sent the thought and chuckled in his head. Suddenly, several naughty visions cascaded from her mind to hers. He almost groaned out loud. She was evil, just evil.
They eventually made it through the crowd somehow and caught a hovertaxi. Alex gave an address he didn’t recognize to the driver. Of course, he wasn’t all that familiar with Saladen. The city had never been a desirable destination for him. Too big, too crowded and too political. He preferred to visit his home island when he was planetside.
“Where are we going?”
“I want my official dress uniform.”
Tory knew what that meant and where they were going. A small shop on the Main Palisade carried dress uniforms for all the Teran One Commanders. He’d heard of it. Once, he’d been told they carried one for him too, but he’d never gone there to retrieve it.
For a brief moment, he regretted the lost time, the lost prestige. Then he glanced at Alex and the regret disappeared. Without those five years of separation, he doubted his mate would have become his Saria. Perhaps, as Jezar implied, they never would have mated at all, but died in a senseless bloodline genocide not many knew was happening. No, he wouldn’t trade all the prestige, the ease of Teran One life, for his mate.
They reached the shop and Alex strode in as if she’d never been off planet, never mated to a known criminal, never fired on Teran One fighters. The proprietor deferred to her. “Commander Zeerah! What a pleasure to see you again.”
“And you, Isler. I would like one of my dress uniforms please.”
“Yes, Commander.” Isler shot a look at Tory. “And your mate?”
“Would you like to wear the uniform again, Tory?” she asked him. “It’s your right, but I could understand why you wouldn’t.”
And she did understand. His bitterness, his pain, about his exile still throbbed inside him. She touched it gently with her mind, stroked it really. You have every right to reject them as they rejected and hounded you, my love. Your call.
Tory had worn the Teran One uniform with pride five years earlier. Would it mean the same now? “I will wear the uniform.” He glanced at Isler. “Do you have one in my size?”
“Your size?” Isler, a dark man with heavy black brows that rose in surprise now, brought out a black commander’s uniform. “I have yours, Commander Ingle. If there are any alterations to be done, I can do them now.”
Tory fingered the uniform. All his ribbons, his Starburst pins, were on the collar. It was as if another man, the man he once was, stood in front of him. He nodded to Isler. “Thank you. I will wear this.”
It was odd. The uniform didn’t fit, but had to be widened in the shoulders and narrowed at the waist. Isler disappeared in the back of the shop and returned quickly, the alterations done. Tory shrugged into the uniform, now fitted to him. He’d grown stronger, harder, in those five years since he’d worn this type of garment. It felt like he’d put on another skin, another life with the uniform.
But it seemed appropriate that he would wear the uniform of the planet he’d come to save, a planet that rejected him, exiled him.
He stared in the mirror and had double vision for a moment. There, a young man, reckless, barely serious, fought because fighting was something he was good at, not because he believed in Teran One. There also, the wanderer, a philanderer, floated through life taking for granted all the things handed to him.
Behind him, Alex appeared in a matching uniform with a red sash around her waist indicating promotion, something added after he’d been exiled, no doubt. But she clarified how that young man had become the man he was now. She had given him something to fight for then and she gave him more to fight for now. Without her, he wouldn’t have been anything and he wouldn’t have worn this uniform with any pride.
The years without her had been long, but had taught him about gratitude, honor and death. His chin rose and the young idiot of five years ago faded away replaced by the man he’d become, a man who deserved the woman by his side.
The glow in her eyes spoke of pride and something hotter that made him wish they weren’t pressed for time. “Like it?” he asked her casually.
She smiled slowly, a wicked lift of her lips that sent electricity through him, and his hands flexed, itching to grab her and kiss her.
Her smile became a grin and he rolled his eyes. Isler handed him another item he’d forgotten about. His family crest.
Worn as a belt, the Ingle crest of a comet with a blazing tail seemed to speak of his journey from a Teran One soldier to a space mercenary and back again.
Alex’s crest, a Zeetah, glared from her waist. It had always fascinated him that the lithe, cat-like mammal had the same golden eyes as his mate. It was as if the very things that made the Zeetah admirable—speed, cunning, agility—were embodied in his mate.
“Shall we go and take our place?” She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.
He covered her hand with his. “It will be my honor.”
They turned toward the door and Isler bowed low to both of them. “May the blessings of the Saria go with you on your journey.”
“Thank you, Isler.”
The man’s dark brown eyes were misty. “It is good that you are home. Both of you.”
Isler whirled away and disappeared behind a curtain. Tory stared after him. “What was that all about?”
Alex also gazed at the swaying curtain. “He’s a relative, distantly connected to my family and Darius’ too. To him, Teran One’s survival is paramount.” She glanced at him. “Somehow he knows we’ll save it.” She shrugged. “Or we won’t.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “We will.”
The streets of Saladen were busy with Shoshani celebrators milling in and out of the shops and restaurants. Tory kept a hand clasped in hers as they wove through the crowds.
The gray sky cast a pall over the bright colors, but there was still an energy, a tension in the air. It was as if the whole planet anticipated what was going to happen.
They were only a block away from the Great Hall where the First bloodlines were gathering when a man appeared suddenly from one of the side streets. The stranger grabbed Alex and yanked her into the shadows of a dark alley. Tory was close behind, his fists raised.
“Stop! I’m a friend. And you’ll need all the friends you can get,” the man whispered.
“Get your hands off of her!” Tory demanded.
“Shut up, Commander.” The man’s gaze was on the street. Two men, knives drawn, strode across the busy street, their family crest emblazoned at their waist. The Gregor family was looking for someone.
When the two Gregor men had run past them, the man turned to regard him with intense silver eyes that glowed in the shadows. He had no family crest on his sash.
“There are those of us in the rebellion who don’t want Ena’s plan to succeed,” he told them. Tory studied him. The way he gripped Alex’s arm had a familiar look to it. Black Ops? No. He’d met several of the rebels, but this man was a total stranger. The man’s face had a long, jagged scar down the side of it and his hand was missing a pinky finger.
“Who are you?”
The silver eyes met his. “Someone who doesn’t want the Old Earth plague released on this planet. Ena thinks she can do it and control the results.” He shook his head. “Most of the rebels haven’t seen the results.”
“You have?”
The man sighed impatiently as if Tor
y was stupid or something. “I’ve been to Ardasia. I managed to convince a few of them, but Ena still has a significant force behind her.” He crept forward and gazed up and down the street. “Follow me.”
“Our plan is—”
“Your plan is obvious to everyone, including Ena. She knows you’re using Pulzer.”
“Fuck!” His heartfelt curse earned a bitter smile from their nameless companion.
“Yeah. I figured I’d waylay you before they did.”
“How the hell did she know?”
The man’s gaze pierced his. “You don’t think you’re the only one with an Ardasian helping you, do you?”
Alex met Tory’s glance. “We…guessed,” she said.
“This is no native-born Ardasian. This is a full-blooded Ardasian who lived all his life on Teran One. He hates humans. Especially Teran One humans.” The man shook his head. “He’s been pushing Ena to release that fucking plague since we got the shipment.” His eyes glittered with violence. “He sent eight men to some distant drop point to get those vials. We were stupid and didn’t ask questions. Seven of my men died to get that fucking shipment,” he spat out. “That asshole didn’t tell us what was in it, did he? He knew it would happen, too. I can tell when someone is surprised by a body count. He wasn’t.”
“Is that when you decided to help us?”
One side of the man’s mouth rose. “No. Several of us were always going to help you, Commander. There were those of us convinced of your innocence.”
Tory stared at him. Funny. He had always attributed that kind of loyalty to Alex, not himself. “Thank you.”
“Several of your men stayed to fight on, Commander.” The man moved like a cat, a ghost, and he seemed familiar. Who was he?
“What’s your name, soldier?”
The man shot a glance back at him. “Once upon a time, I was Corporal Johan Ovid.” He slipped ahead of them and kept his voice low. “Then, Pontoon Gregor secretly detained me, as he did several of your men. He wanted to know if we were all traitors.” Ovid held up his hand. “He cut off my pinky and sliced my face. Fortunately, I couldn’t tell him anything because there was nothing to tell.” He glanced at Alex, his face unreadable. “Then we discovered that Samuel Zeerah had paid off some of the Teran One Tribunal Judges. Before we could release the proof, Gregor murdered the men in his custody. Out of twenty men, only three of us escaped.”
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