Timeless (Pandora Book 1)

by Kali Argent

  “Yesterday,” Lex answered as he released Vane’s hand and stepped back. “We’re not talking about me, though.” His right eyebrow quirked up. “Tell me about this human.”

  Vane had no desire to discuss his personal life, especially when it pertained to Charlotte. Lex had a reputation for being a dangerous, loose-tempered son of a bitch, and for good reason. Vane liked the guy well enough, and he’d go to battle with Lex any day, but that didn’t make them friends.

  Thankfully, he was saved the trouble of spelling this out when Commander Schiva entered the office. The hair on the back of Vane’s neck stood on end, and a low growl built in his chest when an Atrean male followed in behind his father.

  “Men,” the commander addressed the room, “this is Atrean Dignitary Asa Brax.”

  Vane nodded, but didn’t step forward like the others to shake the dignitary’s hand. Tall with lean muscles and skin as flawlessly white as fresh snow, Asa Brax nearly disappeared against the bleached walls of the commander’s office. The light shimmered in his midnight-blue hair, creating an almost luminescent glow as the locks fell in relaxed waves around his face, just brushing the tops of his shoulders.

  Turning his head, he pinned Vane with his glowing yellow eyes, and a wide grin stretched his lips to reveal his pointed teeth. “I believe we’ve already met.” The pupils of his eyes narrowed into elongated slits, cat-like but more feral. “Tell me, how is your new mate adjusting to life on Nekron?”

  Letting free the growl he’d been choking back, Vane took a menacing step toward the Atrean. Lex’s hand landed on his left shoulder, while Xavian held a firm grip on his right bicep. He remembered Asa from The Plaza, distinctly recalled the way the asshole’s eyes had raked over Charlotte’s body, and the way his lips had curled into an appreciate smile.

  At the time, Vane had thought nothing of Asa’s presence. It wasn’t unusual to see members of other races on Nekron. Some had even made the planet their home. He’d wanted to express his displeasure about the way the Atrean leered at his mate, but otherwise, he’d paid little attention to the male.

  If he had realized Asa’s status, perhaps he would have been more cautious. At the very least, he would have put more effort into finding out what purpose the Atrean had on Nekron.

  “Why are you here?” Vane demanded.

  “Schiva,” the commander barked. “Knock your shit off.” Motioning toward the conference table that stretched along the wall on his left, Commander Schiva moved to take his seat at the end. “Sit down,” he ordered when no one moved.

  Reluctantly, Vane turned away from the Atrean and stomped over to the table, sliding into the seat adjacent to his father. Xavian dropped into the chair beside him while Lex and Eryx chose to sit opposite them. Once Asa seated himself at the other end of the rectangular table, all eyes turned to the commander. All except Vane, who continued to glare at the Atrean.

  “Are we going to have a problem?” his father asked.

  Dragging his gaze away from Asa, Vane leaned back in his seat and stared down at the frosted glass tabletop. “No problem, sir.”

  “A rebellion is starting on Promena,” Asa said when everyone had settled. “The Morphlings are—”

  “Sorry I’m late, sir.” Hurrying across the room with his mossy green uniform billowing around him, Cato pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and selected a chair near Asa. “My apologies for interrupting. Please, continue.”

  Asa blinked at the guy twice and nodded, twirling a golden, hexagonal-shaped ring on his right, middle finger as she spoke. . “As I was saying, the Morphlings are…discontent.”

  “Imagine that,” Lex scoffed. “You invade their planet and enslave their race, and they don’t like it. How ungrateful.”

  “The Morphlings are not enslaved,” Asa answered with a slight curl of his lip. “They are controlled.”

  “Clearly not.” Pushing his chair back from the conference table, Captain Roth swiveled toward the Atrean. “Does this rebellion have anything to do with the Legacy Relics missing from Pandora?” His eyes—one green, one orange—shifted to Cato.

  Bobbing his head, the kid pulled a holopod from his pocket and placed it in the middle of the table. “The Jewel of Atrea,” he said as everyone watched the holographic projection screen rotate in the air. “Also, the sword Excalibur.” The image changed from the blood red diamond to a silver sword with a sapphire-encrusted, ornate hilt. “And the Helm of Darkness.” An image of a gold-plated, warrior’s helmet flickered onto the screen.

  Vane watched Asa intently, but the Atrean only shook his head.

  “I can’t say about the sword or the helm. However, the Atrean High Council currently has possession of the jewel.”

  Vane exchanged a look with Xavian, and then glanced at the commander. “The Morphs stole the jewel for the Atreans?” If true, that also meant the Atreans had been the ones to send the Morph after Charlotte. Jerking out of his seat, Vane pressed his palms flat against the table top and leaned toward Asa. “If you fucking touch her, you’re going to have bigger problems than a damn Morphling rebellion.”

  “Why are you telling us this?” Xavian demanded, shoving Vane back into his seat.

  Grinning wide enough to show off his top row of pointed teeth, Asa cast a brief look at Xavian before turning his attention to Vane. “To combat the uprising, the High Council needed a new means to control the Morphling rebels. The pirates, the Morphs with no allegiance, were surprisingly eager to offer their services for the right price.”

  “The price being?” Eryx questioned.

  “The release of their loved ones from Promena.”

  Shifting forward in his seat, Lex propped his elbows up on the table and sneered. “You’re disgusting.”

  Vane agreed, but Asa still hadn’t answered Xavian’s question. “Why are you telling us this?” Revealing the Atrean’s playbook wasn’t the smartest strategy.

  “While I believe the Morphlings need to be policed,” Asa began, and for once, he didn’t have that infuriating smirk on his lips, “I don’t agree with my government’s methods. The Atreans want Miss Rousseau, Lieutenant, and they’re prepared to go to war to have her.”

  “All to keep the Morphlings subservient?” Xavian asked while Vane seethed.

  “Not just the Morphlings.” Asa shook his head, his expression solemn. “The Council has the jewel. If they control the Legacy as well, there will be nothing stopping them from expanding their influence across the galaxy.”

  “The Legacy,” Vane growled, “meaning Charlotte.”

  In the Charlotte’s hands, the jewel could bring either peace or destruction to the galaxy, and potentially stretch to the farther reaches of the universe. With the power of the Atrean Jewel, everyone she met would instantly fall at her feet, following her every whim with blind adoration. Charlotte didn’t have it in here to be malicious or manipulative, but Vane shuddered to think of the methods the Atreans would employ to control her.

  “What’s the big deal?” Lex asked, shrugging when everyone turned to glare at him. “Give the girl the fucking diamond and let her use it against the High Council. The Atrean problem is neutralized, and we get the jewel back. Problem solved.”

  Commander Schiva cleared his throat and sat a little straighter in his mid-back chair. “Cato, would it work?”

  Despite having an Atrean in the room, Vane suspected the chronicler knew more about the Legacy Relics than the rest of them combined.

  Taking his glasses off, Cato cleaned the lenses with the hem of his shirt, his brow creased as if deeply involved in the task. Then he slid the frames back on his face and nodded slowly. “It could. The Atreans aren’t as susceptible to the magic of the jewel, but they aren’t entirely immune, either.”

  “No.” Vane bit out the word while his hands clenched on top of his thighs. “We’re not using her.” If the plan had even a microscopic chance of failure, he wouldn’t risk it. “Find another way.”

  “You haven’t told her,” Asa a
ccused. “She has no idea who she is.”

  “No, she doesn’t, and for now, that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

  “She deserves to know,” Captain Roth interrupted. “You can’t keep her in the dark forever.”

  “She’s still adjusting to life on Nekron. I’m not hiding anything from her.” Defensiveness saturated his tone. Part of him had worried if he’d revealed the truth, it would sway Charlotte’s choice of whether or not to bond with him. He wouldn’t blame her for choosing the life of a princess over being mated to a soldier, but he’d fight to make sure that never happened. “I was just waiting until it became relevant.”

  The commander eyed him speculatively. “Son, I’d say it just did.”

  “They will come for her, and they will take her.” Rocking back in his chair, Asa crossed one leg over the other and templed his fingers together below his chin, his golden ring twinkling in the overhead lights. “Wouldn’t you rather be able to…manage the situation?”

  “Let them try to take her,” Vane challenged. He’d destroy anyone who came near his prya. “We’ll find another way.”

  Still leaning his elbows on the tabletop, Lex turned just his head to look over at Vane. “C’mon, Schiva, be reasonable. This could work, and it could save a lot of lives in the process.”

  “Do you really want to start a war with Atrea and Promena over a girl?” Captain Roth asked, his disapproval obvious.

  Vane slammed his fist down on the table hard enough to form tiny fissures in the glass. “I’d fight the entire galaxy for her, so if the Atreans want a war, I’ll give them a fucking war.”

  Lex snorted derisively. “You barely know her.”

  Even Xavian looked incredulous. “You know I’m on your side, and I like Charli, but war? Vane, you’re not thinking straight.”

  “So that’s it?” Ice dripped from his words, and a red haze descended over his vision as he slowly met each male’s gaze. “You’re prepared to send an innocent female with no knowledge of our world, let alone of Atrea, into a volatile situation without backup? With only a half-assed plan that has a small probability of actually succeeding?”

  Tension thick enough to cut with a blunt dagger fell over the room.

  “Enough.” Rising to his feet, the commander linked his hands behind his back and began pacing the strip of carpet beside the table. “War is inevitable. Either we don’t hand over the girl, and the Atreans come for her, or we give her to them and then double-cross them.” His shoulders rose and fell with each deep inhalation. “The best we can hope for is to turn the odds in our favor.”

  A shrewd, calculating gleam flashed in Asa’s eyes as he lowered his hands to the table and sat forward. “What are you suggesting, Commander?”

  A lead weight formed in Vane’s stomach when his father stopped pacing and leveled a steely glare in his direction. “We use the girl.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Such a beauty shouldn’t be sitting all alone.” The charming accent—almost British, but with a hint of something alien and exotic—rolled off the stranger’s tongue like silken honey as he slid into the chair across from Charli. “Come dance with me.”

  “Thank you,” Charli said with as much politeness as she could manage. “I’m with someone, though.”

  Vane had returned from his patrol in a high state of irritation. After stomping around his quarters for the better part of an hour, while he cursed and barked at no one in particular, he’d declared they were going out for dinner.

  When they’d arrived at the Blue Fog, Charli had been surprised by his choice in venues. By the time Vane had finished his third beer, however, she’d sensed the location had been chosen for its selection of alcohol, and not for the ambience.

  The food had been good, though, and Charli enjoyed the upbeat music and jovial atmosphere created by the rowdy patrons. It reminded her of home, and she’d found herself tapping her foot to the beat and smiling at the raucous laughter from the men gathered around the pool tables.

  Vane hadn’t said more than a handful of words to her since they’d left his apartment. Furthermore, he’d barely touched his burger or the odd shaped fries that tasted more like broccoli than potatoes. Charli figured he’d tell her what had happened when he was ready, but the longer he fumed in silence, the more concerned she became.

  When he’d popped up from his seat like a jack-in-the-box to announce he needed to “hit the head,” she’d simply nodded. The anger that had flowed off him made her uneasy, but the underlying desperation terrified her.

  Using Charli’s distraction to his advantage, the stranger lifted her right hand from the stained wooden tabletop and brought it to his lips. “You are far too beautiful to look so sad.” Lowering his head, he kissed the top of her hand and smiled. “Come dance with me, and I’ll make all of your troubles disappear.”

  “Right.” Unimpressed by his boldness, Charli pulled her hand back and tucked it into her lap. “I’m not much of a dancer, and as I said, I’m with someone.” She took in his caramel complexion and shining silver eyes. “You’re not Nekros. Or a Morphling,” she added as an afterthought, remembering the black void of the demon’s eyes.

  “Beautiful and smart,” he complimented her.

  He didn’t offer more, and Charli didn’t bother to investigate further. She was worried about Vane, and she wanted to know what had caused her handsome soldier so much distress. “You should go.”

  “Now, don’t be that way, sweetling.” The guy laughed, a deep, rich sound that vibrated through his muscular body. Rising from the chair, he smoothed back his short, fiery red hair. Then, in a move too quick to counter, he took Charli’s elbow and hauled her out of her seat. “One dance. You’ll see.”

  “Hey, let go.” Charli twisted away and tried to jerk free of the steel grip, but she only succeeded in losing her balance and falling against the guy’s chest. “Take your hands off me, asshole.”

  “One dance,” her admirer insisted, dragging her toward the open area between the pool tables and bar. “Come with me, sweetling. I’ll take good care of you.”

  Charli stumbled several steps before she found her balance. She should have been a babbling mess, tripping over her own words as she tried to talk her way out the situation. That was what she would have done only a few days ago. With most of her thoughts preoccupied by Vane and his surely attitude, she didn’t have it in her to be nervous or anxious. No, she was pissed.

  Her would-be suitor had several inches and at least a hundred pounds on her, but that didn’t stop Charli from kicking him in the shin. “I don’t want to dance. I don’t want to talk.” His grip tightened on her elbow, and Charli gasped in pain before getting angry all over again. “Goddamn it, let me go!”

  A large hand landed on the stranger’s wrist. “I suggest you listen to the lady before something unfortunate happens.”

  Vane towered over them both, his face a mask of calm, but Charli could see the rage simmering just below the surface. Good gods, he was going to murder this guy, and she didn’t think she could do anything to stop it.

  “Vane, it’s okay. I’m okay,” she said, trying to diffuse the situation.

  “Quiet, prya. I’m discussing important business with our Crimnian friend here.” His gaze turned to the stranger, his eyes clouding dangerously. “It would be in your best interest if I didn’t have to repeat myself.”

  The guy smiled, but he did release his grip on Charli’s elbow. “You should take better care of your playthings,” the Crimnian taunted.

  Charli ducked her head and groaned as she slipped behind Vane. What an idiot.

  The stranger opened his mouth again, but before he could say something else damning, Vane fisted his hand in the Crimnian’s short, red hair and jerked him backward. Twisting the guy’s arm up between his shoulder blades, Vane shoved him toward the nearest pool table with a loud grunt.

  Slamming the man’s face into the blue felt, Vane leaned over him, blanketing his back to whisper into his ea
r. Charli couldn’t hear the mumbled words, but it didn’t take much imagination to guess at the threats spilling from Vane’s lips.

  No one in the crowded bar had stepped forward to interfere, but they were starting to draw quite a bit of attention. Hurrying forward, Charli hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to place her hand on Vane’s arm.

  “Let him go. It’s not worth it.”

  Vane straightened, but he didn’t release his grip on the man’s neck, and he continued to grind the Crimnian’s face into the table. “Are you hurt, prya?”

  Her elbow hurt like the ten shades of hell from being dragged around and shaken like a ragdoll. She wasn’t stupid enough to tell Vane that, though. “I’m fine.”

  Vane didn’t comment, but one side of his mouth turned up in a crooked smirk. “Do you have your things?”

  “I just need to get my jacket.”

  “Good.” Vane nodded, even as he wrenched the Crimnian’s arm higher, causing the man to groan in pain. “Get your jacket, Charlotte. I’ll meet you at the bar.”

  “Vane—”

  “Go.”

  Sighing in defeat, Charli removed her hand from his arm and winced. “Just…just don’t kill him.”

  With a last look at the alien struggling against Vane’s grip, Charli hustled back to their table to retrieve her jacket. While it was a quiet storm that raged inside her lover, she’d never seen Vane so angry.

  Slipping into her fur-lined coat, she zipped it up to her chin, pulled her thick, purple gloves on, and rounded the table. She found Vane waiting for her at the end of the long bar, just as he’d promised. Charli hadn’t heard anyone scream, and guards hadn’t converged on the place to cart Vane back to the Hall, so she had to assume he’d restrained from actually killing the Crimnian.

  “Are you ready, pyra?” Without waiting for an answer, he placed his hand against the small of her back and ushered her toward the exit. “Where are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” Soreness spread through her elbow and up her arm, but it would likely be gone by morning. She’d probably have bruises, though. Charli mentally reminded herself not to wear short sleeves for the next few days. “You didn’t have to hurt him.”