The Traitor's Bride

by Alix Nichols

  That was exactly what Boggond had told Ultek, but he wasn’t going to disown his “most reliable henchman” in front of Horbell’s “first-class cyborg.”

  “Who could’ve expected that Achlins Ghaw, that damned attention-getter from the Iltaqa Gazette, would dare cover it in such a… biased manner?” Lord Boggond said.

  “I suppose he’ll disappear soon, and the Gazette will be shut down for some absurd reason or another.”

  Boggond chose to sidestep. “The Orogate Daily is publishing the true account tomorrow… Tell me, how does Governor Horbell handle similar nuisances?”

  “He has the most capable hive cyborgs in Xereill,” Voqras said, not without pride. “We handle them for him, Your Grace. We act preemptively.”

  “Oh please.” Boggond rolled his eyes. “Next, you’ll tell me you’ll capture Sebi this week.”

  “I will, as a matter of fact, and I’ll let Chief Ultek take the credit.”

  Boggond surveyed him. “I don’t doubt your abilities, Sir Voqras, but I’ve had my entire police force and part of my army on Sebi’s trail for two weeks. And nothing.”

  “I’ve put a plan in motion,” Voqras said. “My men and I talked to people, lots of people. We gathered information and fed it to the hive mind. It processed everything and gave me the weak links. Which I exploited through Chief Ultek. We have a solid lead.”

  “Sounds fancy.”

  “If everything goes to plan,” Voqras said, “I’ll bring you Sebi in twenty-four hours.”

  Boggond squinted at him with incredulity. “Twenty-four? Hours?”

  “That’s correct, Your Grace, hours,” Voqras deadpanned. “The hive mind gives me a ninety-two percent chance you’ll have Areg Sebi tomorrow.”

  Boggond said nothing, just stared at him.

  Voqras pushed his chest out even more than it already was. “The hive mind is almost never wrong.”

  “Will I have him dead or alive?” Boggond skewed a smile, half-sarcastic half-gleeful.

  “You choose.”

  His mouth tightened. “Dead.”

  Voqras gave him a brief nod and strode out the door.

  26

  A cloud hid the moons.

  Through the cave’s mouth Areg watched the stars disappear as more clouds gathered in the sky. Then it started raining.

  On another starless and wet night—a lot colder than this—two and a half years ago, Areg had sat in the command post, his head in his hands, and cried.

  On the ground lay nine dead bodies.

  Bodies who only the day before were men full of vitality, courage, and hope. Men under Areg’s command. Brothers he’d never had. Brothers he would’ve gladly died for.

  Except, they’d died for him.

  As he stared at their faces, a raindrop fell, then another, and then suddenly it was pouring down, the water muddying the ground on which they lay.

  Just before Lou’s soul departed for Aheya’s Garden, Areg had held him in his arms, repeating, “Why, why did you have to do this?”

  “You were worth it,” Lou had wheezed.

  Areg’s expression had grown pained. How did you tell a dying man he was wrong about you, he’d sacrificed himself for nothing?

  “You don’t know it… yet,” Lou had rasped, “But I do. I know.”

  Well, he was wrong.

  As rain intensified, Areg hooked his hands under Lou’s shoulders and dragged him into the command shelter. Lifeless now, Lou didn’t care if his body would be buried covered in mud cakes from head to toe. But Areg did.

  Following his cue, his soldiers moved the remaining bodies. He sat among them all night in the open shelter while it hailed and the winds howled.

  Again and again, his bodyguard begged him to retreat to his quarters for better protection from the elements and to get a little sleep.

  “Go away!” Areg ended up yelling at the poor guy. Can’t you understand? Of course not.

  Even Areg couldn’t quite understand it. All he knew was that a fucking firing squad wouldn’t have made him interrupt his vigil that night. He needed to talk to his fallen men, to say how sorry he was, to beg their forgiveness, and to tell them their families would be taken care of. He’d make sure it wasn’t just through the meager army benefits, but out of his personal fortune.

  At daybreak, just as his soldiers arrived to dig the graves, he made another vow.

  When the war was over, he’d keep on fighting. There would be no rest, no comforts for him, as long as there was injustice it was within his power to grapple with, at any personal cost. Perhaps then he could honor his debt to the nine. Maybe even give Lou’s sacrifice meaning.

  And atone for his guilt.

  The rain let up.

  Etana’s breathing was still even. She’d slept through the downpour and kept sleeping. Whether it was the sedative still lingering in her system or just fatigue, it mattered not. He was glad she could rest. His sweet pea would need all her energy tomorrow.

  As would he.

  But that, to use Colonel Yaggar’s expression, was a separate matter.

  He felt… resigned. It seemed unlikely the enforcers would be authorized to exfiltrate him even off the record. A convicted traitor and Eia’s most wanted man, he was much too high profile, much too toxic to have on their hands.

  Once Etana was safe at LORSS, or relatively safe in the Orogate Temple, he’d stop running. Because he’d never promised anyone—not Etana, not Lou—than he’d live like a rat for the remainder of his days. From there, getting shot would be too hard.

  Areg was ready.

  He’d made his peace with dying already when he was in jail. For the last two weeks, he’d lived on borrowed time—and it had been wonderful, thanks to Etana. Who knew his withered little heart could soak up so much love? His sweet pea had given him the purest, most beautiful moments of his entire life, and for that he’d be eternally grateful. Somehow, her love made him even less afraid of death.

  Hopefully, his being taken out would make it easier for Commander Heidd to protect Nyssa.

  Provided he was protecting her.

  Areg needed to believe that he was, that there was still honor left in his former brother-in-arms. Every time when he thought about Nyssa, he’d silence his rational mind and go with what his gut told him. It was the only way he could cope, the only way not to go mad.

  As for the Association, it would find itself a worthy leader.

  It could be the deep-pocketed Marye Atiz that Geru mentioned, Geru himself, Atipoly, Duko or Rhori, if Etana’s shy brother chose to join their ranks. The man was capable of greater things than he thought. He just had to shed his servility and the idea that he was innately inferior because he was born a menial.

  And Aynu… Aynu needed to rise to the occasion once again, like she’d done during the war.

  It was all very well to serve Aheya and tend to people’s souls, but those people needed her in a different capacity at present. She had to weigh in with her royal clout and legitimacy and the aura of sanctity she’d acquired as the chief nurse for the wounded. Hopefully, she’d realize that someday soon.

  Areg’s commlet buzzed.

  Colonel Yaggar.

  Areg responded to the transmission on his way out of the cave.

  “I have the go-ahead for a covert intervention,” the colonel said. “It’ll be just me, a pilot, and Lieutenant Unie Thraton—one of my best cyborgs.”

  Areg blinked with disbelief. “Did the superintendent agree to exfiltrating me?”

  “I requested maximum leeway and she granted it, no questions asked.” Yaggar paused, probably considering how much he could reveal. “She needs deniability if things go south.”

  It took Areg a moment to adjust to the possibility of him getting off Hente. Surviving the realm-wide manhunt. Getting a chance to savor Etana’s love a little longer.

  “I’ve factored your current location into the orbits of Hente’s two remaining comms satellites,” Yaggar said. “Tomorrow afternoon from thre
e to four, Mount Crog will be in the satellites’ blind spot. We’ll drop out of hyperspace and leave the spacecraft in synchronous orbit. Then Unie and I will fly a shuttle down to the planet and leave it hovering in the atmosphere behind the mountain. Then Unie and I will fly directly to you. Can you give me a landmark to make my life easier?”

  Areg closed his eyes and pictured the terrain in relation to where he was. “Fort Crog. There’s an old tower at the foot of Mount Crog southwest from where I am.”

  “Pulling up the map.” Silence. “I’m zooming in… Need a moment… All right, I see it. Locking the coordinates in.”

  “We’ll head to Fort Crog as late as possible, to avoid unnecessary risks,” Areg said. “It’s a short walk from the cave. We’ll be there at three. Top floor—to make your life even easier.”

  “Much appreciated. If, for some reason, you choose to go to another spot, I’ll still find you thanks to your commlet. So, no worries.”

  Areg smirked. “Let’s hope the cops don’t find us first.”

  “We’ll get to you before the cops,” Colonel Yaggar said. “They don’t have wings. We do.”

  27

  Etana watched Areg return to the cave and lay down beside her. “Sounds like both of us are leaving here tomorrow.”

  She took his face in her hands and kissed him, whispering “thank Aheya” between hot kisses. When he wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, she realized she’d been crying. But those were happy tears—tears of relief and hope and promise of a future.

  Areg’s eyes were sad, though, filled with a deep melancholy that made Etana’s heart clench.

  “What is it?” she asked, kissing his palms. “You can tell me.”

  “Nyssa.”

  “Your late sister?” She blinked, then frowned, confused.

  “Nyssa is alive,” he said. “She’s at Commander Heidd’s house.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know if he can protect her from Ultek and Boggond.” Areg swallowed, before adding, “Or if he’s trying to.”

  Etana searched his face.

  Please, don’t say you’re staying behind. Please, please, please!

  “She’s in too much danger,” he said. “Right now, I’m not in a position to help her, but I’m coming back as soon as that changes.”

  Etana nodded.

  He stroked her cheek. “It’ll be my priority, sweet pea.”

  “I understand.” She smiled faintly. “You wouldn’t be you if it wasn’t. What do you plan to do?”

  “Depends on what I can do, on where I’ll end up… But, first off, I’ll need reliable intel on Heidd. Hopefully, Colonel Yaggar will help with that. If the intel is good, I’ll contact Heidd and we’ll figure something out together. If it turns out he’s no longer the man I once knew, I’ll need a well-trained team to help me get Nyssa out.”

  “Enforcers?”

  He shook his head. “They aren’t at liberty to sign up for unsanctioned operations like that. I’m thinking mercenary cyborgs.”

  It sounded dangerous and difficult, but Etana pushed it out of her mind. She’d worry about it when the time came.

  They’d just received wonderful news. She wanted to bask in it. There’d been too few good tidings, too little hope for Areg—for her and Areg together—lately, to scorn a huge one like this.

  She kissed him.

  His lips parting, he teased her tongue with light, fleeting strokes, then pushed in more deeply. She responded by opening up and meeting his delicious invasion with equal ardor.

  It happens tonight, she decided.

  Sometime over the last twenty-four hours, the promise they’d made to Rhori had simply become moot.

  Pressing her naked body into Areg’s, she reached down and wrapped her fingers around his fully erect sex.

  He groaned with pleasure against her mouth.

  She began to stroke him.

  Soon, his fingers found her center and began to rub and pump.

  She bit his lip.

  His touch grew rougher, more urgent. Shifting, he bent toward her breasts and took a nipple into his mouth. She arched to give him better access. He sucked, all while stoking a fire in her loins.

  She wanted to tell him, “Take me,” but all words were stolen from her when he pressed a fingertip between her folds, beyond her little pleasure bud, and her flesh gave in. Tentatively, he moved it a little farther, then withdrew, then pushed in again, setting into a deliciously fast rhythm.

  Etana tossed her head to one side then to the other as pleasure flared, building up.

  “Spread your legs,” he said, shifting.

  She obliged immediately.

  Moving between her legs, he settled on top of her, his finger still pumping.

  He was heavy.

  Etana had never been pinned down, almost crushed by something—someone—so large.

  But she loved it.

  She loved his weight along her length, from her thighs to her tummy to her chest, loved how he surrounded her, how his torso flattened her breasts, and the hard press of his manhood against her hip.

  Gripping his neck, she spread her legs a little more, letting his finger stretch her a little more.

  Soon, her eyes glazed over and her breathing grew loud. Her sex was drenched again, but it didn’t bother her anymore. She knew what it was now. Her body readying itself for him, craving him.

  “Etana,” he murmured, working her, “Sweet pea… You have no idea how I want you…”

  Oh, I think I do. Pleasure grew another notch. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. Warm, big, hard in every place where she was soft. Strong. Every muscle of his taut body, every inch of his velvety skin gave off a maleness that was as vigorous as it was tender.

  That heady maleness triggered a wild, visceral response in her. It made her want to give, give, give. Everything. Anything he wanted.

  She felt free, soaring.

  She needed him inside of her.

  “Take me,” she said. “Take me completely.”

  He halted, drew back a little and gazed into her eyes.

  She lifted her head. “Please?”

  He rolled off her and onto his back. “There’s nothing I want more right now, sweet pea, but…”

  “But?”

  “I’m not in the habit of breaking my word.”

  Etana rolled her eyes. Impossible man!

  Sometimes, she had the impression he was his own worst enemy, punishing himself over and over for some old sin. Well then, she, laundry maid Etana Tidryn, was here to hand him his absolution. She sat up and straddled him.

  His hands went to her waist even as his hungry eyes roamed her body. They feasted on her breasts and her tummy and lingered on the dark triangle between her legs. But he didn’t touch it.

  Fine.

  Etana began to slide along the length of his shaft, forward and backward, pressing against it, the pull inside her growing unbearably urgent.

  His eyes burned into her mound.

  Feeling wilder than ever before, she pulled herself up and guided his member to her entrance. Her intention had been to bear down, but her maidenhead resisted more than it had done to his finger.

  “A little help, please?” She pouted in frustration.

  “What if you get pregnant?”

  “I won’t. My friend Gullie—she and her husband are trying to have a baby—told me the days just before and just after a woman’s period aren’t fertile. My bleeding is due any day now.”

  He watched her for a moment. “I have a condition.”

  “Oh?”

  “If the rescue attempt fails tomorrow, you go straight to the Orogate Temple, and you take the money I have left.”

  “Half of it.”

  He nodded.

  “It’s a deal,” she said.

  “I’m not done.” He arched an eyebrow. “If, for some reason, the enforcers can’t take me along, you’ll go with them.”

  “Why shouldn’t they be able to—”

&n
bsp; “Those are my terms.”

  “Lord Sebi!” She drew her brows together and tut-tutted theatrically. “Are you trading your sexual favors?”

  He blinked once. Then an open, winsome smile spread across his face. “That’s exactly what I’m doing, Dame Tidryn.”

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do as you asked.” She hoped to Aheya she wouldn’t have to.

  His eyes bore into hers. He was no longer smiling.

  With renewed energy, she started pushing down, so turned on and hungry for the feel of him inside her, she didn’t care if it would hurt when her hymen tore.

  His grip tightened as he held her steady and thrust up into her. Her sheath stretched a little more—and yielded.

  Etana sucked in a breath, realizing that the crown of his member was inside her.

  He stopped moving, stroked her thighs and backside, then brought his hand to her mound and began to rub her pearl. Pleasure grew, rising in tidal waves and making her part her lips and lean forward to clutch his shoulders.

  She lowered herself a little more, then more, gasping each time she took in more of him. He began to rock into her. Beads of sweat glistened between his pectoral muscles as he strained to pace himself.

  Gradually, discomfort let up and only pleasure remained.

  She rode him faster, harder, rushing toward something she didn’t have a name for. Their hot breathing mingled. When his thrusts picked up intensity, sending delicious jolts through her, she moaned. And then, suddenly, he was inside to the hilt.

  “Is this how you wanted me to take you?” he asked, his voice low, husky.

  She gave him a slow nod.

  His eyes riveted to hers, he pulled her up until only his tip was sheathed, and then slammed into her, hard.

  Her head lolled, and a strange, low-pitched sound escaped her. Such pleasure!

  He did that again, and again, and again, and she lost all control, moaning, shaking, and racing toward her release. And then, without warning, her inner muscles tightened and spasmed around him. She shuddered with bliss. Another powerful thrust, and Areg growled his own climax.

  When she came back to herself, she whispered his name.