Balance (The Neumarian Chronicles)

by Ciara Knight

  I unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing soft dark hair lightly sprinkled across his chest. I followed the line with my lips to his Neumarian Mark, the tattoo of his ancestors. I’d always been mesmerized by the affects my touch provoked around the dark ink.

  Silver slid from where my lips brushed the center of the dagger hilts, swirling out the points and around his mark. I traced it with the tip of my tongue, a coolness against my warmth and hunger. He clutched my hips as his head fell back.

  Encouraged, I slipped my fingers to his next button, sliding each one free until his shirt fell open, revealing his corded, firm muscles.

  Pressing my palm to his chest, I continued to follow the icy silver, trailing kisses over the hard, ribbed planes from his belly to his back. It circled back around and I knelt before him, kissing the patch of hair below his belly button where the silver disappeared.

  He caught my wrists and guided me up to face him. “Not so fast. I plan on enjoying you all night.” His hands cupped my cheeks then his lips captured mine. I stood on my toes, leaning my head back for more access.

  Panting, he broke free, pressing his forehead to mine. “I’ve missed you so much. Your scent, it’s like coming home. A real home beyond this place.” He suckled my ear lobe and massaged the nape of my neck. My skin erupted in goose bumps, chasing the chill that zipped through my body, and I thought I’d rip the clothes from his body. But tonight might be all we had and we both wanted it to last forever.

  He slid his hand under my shirt and stroked my back, from waist to shoulders. “You are the most beautiful person to ever exist. There’s none like you.”

  A low moan crossed my lips. He tugged my shirt over my head and stood back, his gaze traveling from my head to my boots then back to my eyes. “Perfection.”

  I trembled, his eyes full of passion and promise. The love I’d longed to feel for so long stood before me with a hungry expression.

  “Is this real? Am I dreaming?” I asked.

  He clutched my hand and placed my palm to his chest. “Do I feel real?”

  Thump.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  With his free hand, he brushed the hair from my eyes. “That’s my heart. It beats for you, and only you.”

  I brought his hand to my chest. “And mine for you.”

  Once again, he captured my lips and we lost ourselves in one another’s arms, without care or thought, only wishing to please the other. With our union, the last few remaining walls around my heart shattered. Our souls touched, and I knew this night would be unlike any before. I fervently wished tomorrow would never arrive.

  But it did.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sirens blared a clarion call-to-arms.

  Cursing, Ryder bolted from our wedding bed. “Let’s hope it’s a drill.”

  “After yesterday’s attack?” I leapt from bed and jerked on my uniform as Ryder gathered our weapons, conditioning made our movements automatic. Amazing the difference two years made. “One day a princess, the next a soldier bent on taking down Mandesa and her minions,” I muttered as I hooked weapons to my belt and jammed the knives into their sheaths in my boots.

  Ryder glanced at me. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Bam! Bam! Bam! With each hit, the Arc shook. Definitely not a drill.

  “Battle stations. We’re under attack. All non-essential personal evacuate,” Father ordered over the intercom.

  I’m sorry. I thought we had at least forty-eight hours, Father muttered. Ryder’s grim smile told me father spoke in both our minds.

  We were lucky we had last night, I said. What’s the situation?

  Aerial bombardment. Assassins spotted in the forest.

  Meaning, they’ll be here shortly. A chill raced through me at the memory of my last encounter with Assassins. Our narrow escape from Old Chicago, thinking Mags had died so we could survive. Nothing we had pierced their armor—not fire, bombs, or being buried beneath a collapsed building. We survived the beach attack because my gift had flared to life, took control, and melted the assassin’s armor, stripping them of their life support.

  Father brushed our minds. UE’s promised us safe refuge.

  What’s Mandesa’s excuse for the attack?

  She’s claiming the rebellion refused peace talks.

  Then publically agree, Ryder said.

  We did, last night. She’s declared Neumarians and their supporters are stalling so they can attack Acadia with chemical weapons, killing every man, woman, and child.

  I punched the wall and screamed, “Damn McCormick to hell!” Once again, Mandesa had written the script, set the stage, and moved everyone around to suit her purpose. The last thing in the world she wanted was the Triune in Acadia. To that end, she had tried to kill us before the week was up and we responded in the affirmative.

  Then it hit me. This isn’t about McCormick’s weapons. That’s just the justification for launching a preemptive strike. It’s because through our agents, the people and council started pushing for my inclusion. We can’t let her get away with this.

  I agree.

  Ryder arched an eyebrow at Father’s confirmation. What action do you suggest, General?

  Finish evacuation of all noncombatants. Then take down her planes.

  Did Annie and Laos get out with the rest of the orphans on the shuttle last night? We might die, but they had to live. The children, farmers, and teachers were our legacy. To save them, they would be well hidden and protected with parent soldiers at their side.

  No. Seems Annie missed her flight last night. We’re readying them now.

  What? She was supposed to be with Briggs and Laos.

  She was, but then snuck back to the orphanage and hid under her bed. Said she wouldn’t go without you.

  Relief and anger fought their own battle in me. Somehow, over the last few days we’d bonded. While I couldn’t love her more if I’d given birth to her, I didn’t need this headache now. Father and the Arc required all my attention. Not one little girl. She’d better be on that last shuttle and get to safety, or I’ll tan her hide.

  Strapping on the last weapon, Ryder unlocked and opened our door. Grabbing my hand, we raced for operations. When I gradually slowed, he glanced over his shoulder at me.

  I stopped and scanned the halls. “Something isn’t right.”

  The Arc shook once more. Walls cracked. We stumbled and fell to our knees.

  Of course! I reached out to Father. Mandesa wants control of the Arc. Killing us is an added bonus.

  Too bad. Disappointment’s a bitch. It’ll be nothing but rubble as the last ship departs, he shot back.

  Ryder grabbed my arm. “Why blow the Arc?”

  “If she takes it, she’ll own the world.”

  A look of determination lit his face. Tight-lipped, he touched our minds. What about the data stores?

  I really had to bring him up to speed, I thought as Father said, Removed the same day Mandesa sued for peace, along with most of the Arc’s supplies and all of Penton’s weapons, including his gas. And before you ask, they aren’t in UE. Get here ASAP.

  Ryder cupped my face. “You okay?” With my nod, he asked, If not UE, where?

  With trusted tribes in what was once the Highlands of Scotland.

  His eyes widened and as he mouthed why, he grasped my hand and we took off for operations.

  Mandesa didn’t bother with them, I answered. She figured if the Romans couldn’t conqueror them, why bother. She said they didn’t have anything she wanted. But I think it’s really because after the war, she couldn’t find them. They’d disappeared. It’s amazing what those Highlands hide.

  A few minutes later, we entered operations. A wall screen displayed video data from everything within ten miles of the Arc. Our fighter interceptors were gaining an upper hand on Mandesa’s bombers and their escorts. But what worried me were the fifty or sixty assassins moving through the forest.

  For the first time, I celebrated ye
sterday’s cave-in of the Arc main entrance. It had bought us some time—an hour at the most. Those creatures would bore through anything to reach their target. And something told me I knew exactly who the assassins were after, and three of them were standing in this room.

  As the assassins cleared the woods, they charged across the open field. Our fighters made strafing runs, using armor-piercing, .50 cal explosive rounds. From experience, we’d learned nothing else worked. One fighter made a direct hit, leaving nothing but debris behind.

  “Dang, that pilot’s good,” I muttered.

  “Yup. She’s our best,” Walker said.

  “Who is she?” Ryder asked.

  “Your sister, Raeth.”

  A smile curved the corner of my mouth. As usual, Raeth didn’t waste a bullet. Each one hit its target. But as good as she was, there were still too many of them.

  Father touched his halo pad. “Artillery.” A second later, he snapped, “Target approaching enemy. Use no more than five of the phosphorus bombs.”

  I understood why he’d limited the number used. Penton had only managed to make fifteen, but they’d been designed for this purpose. Upon exploding, the phosphorus would burn through anything it touched—including the impervious, metal-covered assassins.

  Hope sprang. We might win this battle. The Arc and the rebellion had the weapons we didn’t in Old Chicago. I watched as phosphorus shrapnel tore into the assassins, burning through their armor and killing them by the dozens.

  I shuttered as memories surfaced from two years ago. Our attacker fell upon the onslaught of my gift. His armor shredded, exposing his altered appearance. No longer human, but a misshapen, repulsive creature. Yet as he died, his humanity surfaced.

  Once again, the magnitude of Mandesa’s insane evil stunned me. Changing an opponent or Neumarian slave into one of her feared and hated creatures, and only in death could they find release.

  I turned from the scene and scanned a video of the sky for approaching planes. I pointed to the screen in the corner. “Oh, my God. Look!” Three bombers simultaneously opened their bay doors to empty their payload.

  Dozens of assassins.

  “Artillery.” Father ordered, not wasting a second. Target—parachuting assassins. Aim remaining phosphorus shells, set for aerial detonation. Upon completion, evacuate.”

  I touched his arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll take them out.”

  He shook his head. “They’re her first wave. She can’t afford for us to escape.” He pressed an orange dot on his halo pad. Three short beeps boomed throughout the Arc. “Evacuate, evacuate, evacuate. Self-destruct in twenty.”

  Walker pushed back from his console. “Sir—”

  “I’ve given you an order, Sergeant. Follow it.”

  “I’ll stay, sir,” Walker said. You’ll need me.”

  Sighing, Father nodded then touched the red circle on his pad.

  “Awaiting command,” said a mechanical voice.

  “Sigma. Delta. Five. Eight, Two. Zebra.”

  “Do you want self-destruction to commence?”

  “Yes. Complete destruction. Every level. No counter-command authorized.”

  “Request requires final command sequence.”

  “Beta, Omega, Delta. Harrison,” my father said.

  “Twenty minutes and counting.”

  Father turned and faced Ryder and me. “Why are you two still here?”

  “Confirming Ryder and I are to transport the remaining children and join you at the RP.”

  He nodded. “Should’ve done this yesterday. The last remaining orphanage shuttle’s waiting in the landing bay.”

  “Where—”

  “SB-06 and battle cruisers are safely hidden. Don’t worry, there’re enough shuttles for everyone who’s still here. Go!”

  “Understood.” Over the last year and half, while Ryder had retreated from me, I’d buried myself in assisting Father with designing evacuation strategies. No one, not even the pilots knew our rendezvous point coordinates. When Father broadcasted his order, it triggered a lockdown of our ships. Once loaded and ready for take-off, the ships would automatically navigate to the destination point, unless they took damage. When safe the ships reasserted control. However, I could override the command if needed, and I feared it would be.

  As Ryder and I charged into the orphanage, Father touched our minds. I’ll maintain a telepathic connection with both of you. If there’s a problem, shout and I’ll send help.

  Understood, complete radio silence. That would be easy to maintain, since the same order that controlled the destination of our ships disabled the radio.

  I scanned the orphanage, taking in the children. The few young ones left in the room clutched homemade stuffed animals, beloved blankets, and wore small backpacks filled with clothing. The older ones had bulging knapsacks strapped to their backs.

  When we win the war, Ryder, I want to take in as many of the orphans as possible. I’m not sure if I’ll be a good mother, but I know I could love and care for them.

  He lifted and spun me around. You’ll make an amazing mother.

  “Hey you two. In case you haven’t heard, the honeymoon’s over,” Penton said, trotting up to us. The general said you needed help. Oh, and Raeth’s flying escort, so we’ll have protection. She’s refueling now.”

  Seconds later, Bendar joined us. “Heard kids transport. I help.” He shuffled ahead and, in the middle of the room, clapped his hands. “Come. We play game.” Grinning, he removed a flute from his jacket. It was the same aged walnut instrument he’d used to amuse me as a small child. “We go grand adventure to far land. No more sleep in room. Play outside. Peaceful. Smell better, too.” He pinched his nose and they giggled. “Big kids help small one. I play music. You follow me.” Playing his tune, Bendar led the children and caretakers to the large supply lift.

  Seeing it was full, I scooped up Annie as Ryder and Penton each grabbed two stragglers. “Go on. We’ll meet you there,” I called out.

  We bolted up two flights of stairs and exited into the main corridor, then raced for the shuttle bay, entering at the far end. The landing bay was just under four hundred meters long and as we ran toward the shuttles at the opposite end, Ryder and Penton pulled ahead of me.

  I’d just passed the halfway mark when Father touched my mind. A second wave of assassins parachuting in. Ninety seconds out. Where’re you?

  Shuttle bay. And you, where’re you?

  Heading for SB-06.

  He’d hidden his ship in an underground river that ran beneath us, and would use it to travel to where the river emptied in the North Sea. I prayed he made it.

  As I continued to follow in Ryder and Penton’s wake, catapults rose at the far end of the shuttle bay. Engines engaged and two shuttles filled with soldiers, blasted out of the landing bay. The force sent me to the floor and I struggled to keep hold of Annie. Rising, I spotted our shuttle and Raeth’s fifty meters ahead, the catapults raised for us.

  Before I could get my feet under me to stand, an explosion rocked the Arc. I hunched my back, protecting Annie from falling debris.

  “Semara!” Ryder’s distant voice sounded through the ringing in my ears.

  Go! I’m fine.

  Glancing around, I realized we were exposed. Annie and I stood in the middle of a five-meter opening to the maintenance area. Its exterior metal-incased concrete wall no longer existed.

  I clutched Annie to my side, ducking behind some barrels and crates.

  Shaken, I tried to remember all the abilities of assassins. Unlike Mandesa’s hunters, they couldn’t scale slick, metal walls, we should be safe fifty meters above ground.

  I heard a clank and froze. Damn, a grabbling hook. Shaken, I bolted toward my ship. I still had a chance of making it before he spotted us. A slim one, but it was better than nothing.

  As I cleared the opening, a red, metal-enclosed figure stepped out of the dusty, gray haze. Seeing tubing and weapons mounted to its shoulders, I shuddered. He grasped a tub
e, aimed, and fired, blowing out the facing wall. As he left-faced and repeated the action, I tucked Annie tight against me and I sprinted for our shuttle.

  Behind me, I heard thuds as he gave chase.

  Kaboom.

  I pivoted on my heel, spotting a figure through the haze.

  Mart marched toward us, her double-barrel, custom blaster smoking. “You gonna stand there all day?”

  Stunned, I glanced back at the assassin. She’d blown him away. Still operational, but only if it got a new body. The head alone, no matter how much it screeched, couldn’t wreak havoc.

  Pivoting, I raced with her for our shuttle before another assassin appeared. “I want one of those.”

  “Sorry, don’t make me gun in princess sizes.”

  I spotted Ryder standing in the open door of our ship. With Annie tucked safely in my arms, Mart and I bulldozed through anything in our path. I’d never covered a hundred meters so fast.

  I reached out for Father. Assassins are inside, tearing apart the Arc.

  Good. That means they’re not focused on you. Now, get the hell outta there.

  I’m trying. It’d help if they hadn’t penetrated this level.

  Suddenly, Captain Paulson brushed my mind. Tell my girl to get out of there, or I’m gonna drag her out.

  Mart huffed by my side., no doubt part of the mental link as well. “You tell him, I’m not his girl.”

  Sweetheart, you resisting me makes me want you all the more. Now, get your sorry ass on your ship before you’re killed.

  “Tell him not to worry about me. I’m not the one who needed his ass saved during a border conflict.” She shot me a grin as we ran. “That arrogant son-of-a-gun is piloting my ship right now so I can save you.”

  Glancing up, I spotted Raeth’s ship, along with and then a second, flanking ours, Penton waving to me before slipping inside.