Triad

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Triad Page 4

by Cyndi Friberg


  Heat crawled up her neck and blossomed across her cheeks. What an outrageous thing to ask. “Are you always this flirtatious?”

  “Actually, I never flirt. I seem to have a thing for Bilarrians.” His tone was playful, but a predatory intensity erupted in his gaze. Inner light gleamed through the black, making his eyes appear blue.

  Warmth swept over her body and her face began to burn. This was why her grandmother never allowed her to spend time alone with young men. Mirella was too susceptible to their flattery. It was a weakness she’d inherited from her mother, a weakness of which Queen Aurelia frequently took great pleasure in reminding her.

  “Do you have a mate?” The question slipped out despite her intention to seem uninterested. “I apologize. It’s none of my business.”

  “I was flirting with you,” he pointed out. “Of course it’s your business. And the answer is no. I would never indicate my interest in one female while I was involved with another. I have no mate, nor am I in a serious relationship. How about you?”

  She swallowed awkwardly. What was she doing? She wasn’t here to find romance. She was here to scout out the situation for her grandmother and AG Paytor. “I too am unattached.”

  He nodded, acknowledging her statement. Awareness pulsed between them for one breathless moment as they stared into each other’s eyes. “Are you ready to return? You still seem uncomfortable and that wasn’t my intention.”

  “It might be best.” It saddened her to be so encumbered by royal expectations that she couldn’t enjoy a simple conversation with an attractive man. But she was a princess, royal blood from two different planets flowed through her veins.

  Holding out his hand, he waited for her to take it.

  A bit of her spirit surged, rebelling against her grandmother’s tyranny. “Can we emerge in IG Headquarters yet elude my entourage?”

  “Security will sense us as soon as we materialize, but I can direct them to give us some privacy.”

  She smiled. “Perfect.” She placed her hand on his and warmth flowed up her arm. Each time they touched, regardless of how innocent the contact, her senses stirred.

  Slowly, he pulled her closer, then wrapped his arms around her. His warm, woodsy smell filled her nose, rousing emotions she’d never experienced before. Well, she recognized the feelings as loneliness and desire, so she must have sensed them before, though never this intensely.

  She wrapped her arms around his torso, splaying her fingers against his broad back. Her heart thudded and her body ached, for things she refused to name. She wasn’t the innocent virgin her grandmother presumed. Twice Mirella had indulged her passionate nature, and twice she’d been rewarded with betrayal and heartbreak. But it had been four long years since she felt this elemental attraction for anyone. Why did he have to be the enemy?

  Letos pulled Mirella flush with his body, then commanded his ship to bio-stream them to his private office. The cozy retreat was part of his five-room suite on the top floor of IG Headquarters. Technomages couldn’t actually teleport. They used technologies that simulated the ability, and many others. He had integrated systems that mimicked telekinesis, telepathy, and a data connection that allowed him to seem clairvoyant, but admitting this to Mirella would have been foolish. As she was quick to point out, they had just met and his attraction to her didn’t ensure her trustworthiness. If anything, it should make him more cautious.

  She sucked in a ragged breath as the bio-stream engine engaged and her arms tightened around his body. He had no problem with her plastering herself against him, but he was careful not to increase the intimacy himself. The vortex dissipated and a moment of vertigo left him swaying. She groaned and pressed her forehead against his chest.

  “Too much more of this and I’m going to lose my dinner,” she warned.

  “We can stay here as long as you like.” He hadn’t meant the offer to sound so sensual, but damn she felt good in his arms.

  His internal com system activated and Bylerium, head of IG security, pinged Letos. He opened the connection, allowing Bylerium to transmit.

  Is everything all right, sir. The lady’s guards were not happy about your sudden departure.

  He couldn’t quite fight back a smile as he ran his hand up and down her slender back. We’re both fine, By. But we’re not finished with our conversation. Tell her team all is well, but do not let them up here. Understood?

  Copy that.

  Letos pinched off the connection and enjoyed having Mirella in his arms.

  After another slow breath, she lifted her head and stepped back.

  He reluctantly lowered his arms, feeling restless and hungry.

  She looked around. “Is this your office?”

  “One of them. If I’m trying to impress a potential client, I use the larger, more imposing one downstairs.” He glanced around, trying to assess the space from her perspective. The room wasn’t large, but the furniture was sleekly modern, welcoming, while still retaining a sense of order. “This is my personal hideaway.” Not yet comfortable with all the attention the IG insisted on lavishing on him, Letos spent more time here than he probably should.

  “I see.” She moved to the compact sofa against the far wall and sat in the middle, forcing him to find somewhere else to sit. “Did your security team sense our return?”

  “They did. I instructed them to inform your entourage. Is there anything else you’d like to tell them?”

  She nodded, mischief flickering in her gaze. “Tell them to return to the ship. I’ll join them there once we’ve concluded our meeting.”

  He hesitated, easily guessing the shit storm she was about to unleash. “Your ‘personal assistant’ isn’t going to like that.”

  “Too bad. I’ve had all of the browbeating I can take for one night.”

  “All right.” He delivered the message then refocused on her lovely face. “Would you like something to drink?” She shook her head, so he lowered himself onto one of the armless chairs that faced the couch. “Were you raised at court? What’s it like to be the granddaughter of Bilarri’s most powerful monarch?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve only lived with Grandmother since my mother passed beyond.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Four years.”

  There was a distinct catch in her voice and Letos wondered if she missed her mother, or if there was something about her grandmother’s guardianship that made her sad. “You’re still quite young. You must miss her terribly.”

  “I do miss my mother, but I’m not as young as I look.”

  Bilarrians lived even longer than the average Rodyte’s two hundred years, so ages were often hard to gauge. He wasn’t foolish enough to ask. Instead, he returned to the unanswered question. “And your grandmother, have you enjoyed life in her court?”

  One slender shoulder lifted, but the shrug was less believable this time. “For the most part.”

  She looked away and he heard the odd catch in her voice again, as if she didn’t believe her own words. There was something there, something dark and hurtful, but it was much too soon to delve into her mysteries. First, he had to earn her trust.

  The situation on Rodymia was too volatile for a long, drawn-out negotiation. He needed to know if Queen Aurelia was serious about wanting peace and he needed to know now. If he expected Mirella to be honest with him, the best approach would be offering her honesty first. “As I mentioned before, this position is new to me.”

  “The Triad was just formed,” she pointed out. “It’s new to all three of you.”

  “That’s true, but it’s not what I meant. Bandar and Haven have experience with leadership and negotiations. I, on the other hand, have always worked on my own.”

  “What did you do before you were appointed to the Triad?” And why would the IG pick someone with no experience. She didn’t actually say it, but the inference was there in her tone.

  “I’ve worked undercover during most of my adult life. My predecessor, Javin, was also my be
st friend. I slipped into places he couldn’t go and took care of situations with which he could have no official connection.”

  Interest ignited within her night-black eyes and she scooted to the edge of the sofa. “You were his henchman?”

  “In a way.” He took a deep breath, unsure how much to reveal. He wanted her to feel comfortable enough to confide in him, yet there were things in his past he saw no reason to share. Javin had been brilliant, ambitious and shrewd. He’d also been amoral and ruthless. Letos hadn’t learned the depths of Javin’s corruption until after his death, but that didn’t change the truth. “The point is, I’m not sure how all this works. You approached us, so do you offer terms or are you expecting us to list what we would need to enter into a peace treaty with Bilarri?”

  “The last four battles were instigated by Rodymia.” She licked her lower lip then pressed them together. The motion didn’t seem calculated, but it focused his attention on her mouth, made him wonder what those plush pink lips would feel like beneath his. “What would it take for Rodymia to end all military offensives against Bilarri?”

  “The first thing we’d need is a commitment for Bilarri to do the same. Are you able to offer such a commitment? Queen Aurelia is one of four reginal sovereigns. We would need commitments from all four if a peace treaty is going to mean anything.”

  “Understood. My first assignment was to determine if a peace treaty was something the Triad would even consider. Now that I know it is, I’ll find out how Grandmother would like to proceed.”

  “Very good.” The conversation was rapidly leading to her departure and he wasn’t ready to let her go. “Will you be staying here or returning to Bilarri for the night? There are no overnight accommodations in IG Headquarters, but it will only take a few minutes to make arrangements if you need somewhere to stay.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’ll simply stay on my ship.”

  Is that where your entourage is staying? He bit back the question before it passed his lips. He had no right to wonder about something so personal. She attracted him, fascinated him, but he had no claim to her. At least not yet. His pulse raced at the thought. “Then I suppose we should adjourn until—”

  “Is that drink offer still open? I’d love to hear more about your undercover adventures.”

  Desire curled through his body, igniting heat and hunger. Her luminous eyes appeared guileless and warm. Was it really possible she didn’t understand the double entendre in her words? Or was she a heartless tease, sent here to distract and torment him? Either way, he was grateful for a little more time with her.

  “Of course the offer’s still open.” His movements a bit awkward thanks to his massive erection, he pushed to his feet and manufactured a smile. “What can I get you?”

  * * * * *

  “Where in hell’s rings is she?” Xorran’s booming voice echoed off the walls of the council chambers, but he no longer cared. He stood toe to toe with Bylerium, head of security for IG Headquarters, the person who had offered excuse after excuse regarding Mirella’s location.

  Bylerium met Xorran’s gaze directly, apparently unimpressed by his show of temper. “Your mistress is perfectly safe. Her current location is a private office on one of the restricted floors. However, I can show you the security feed if it will alleviate your fears.”

  Xorran wasn’t afraid, he was infuriated. The problem was, most of his anger was directed at the reckless female he’d been ordered to guard. She’d all but begged Letos to sweep her away from her entourage as if her security detail had been harassing her rather than ensuring her safety. Letos was a technomage, for creation’s sake. Didn’t the foolish twit realize how dangerous that made him?

  “Security feeds can be faked. I demand to see her in person.”

  “I’ll communicate your request to my—”

  “It wasn’t a request,” he snapped. “Take me to her now!”

  “That’s impossible, sir. Visitors aren’t allowed on the upper floors.” The jerk moved closer to the table and activated a holo-display with a fluid hand gesture. “Show level nineteen, section three, room seven.” A beam of light rose from the tabletop then expanded, becoming a modest office. Mirella sat in the middle of a sofa, casually sipping wine. “Clearly, she is in no danger. In fact, she instructed you and the other guards to return to your ship. She will join you there after the meeting.”

  Meeting? That was no meeting. It was a godsdamn cocktail party! “Impossible.”

  The bastard just shrugged.

  Xorran snapped. He fisted the front of Bylerium’s uniform top and dragged him to his toes. “You will take me to her—now!”

  IG guards rushed into the room and surrounded Xorran before he remembered that his comrades were unarmed. All of their weapons had been collected by security before they’d been ushered to the council chamber. Xorran had a composite knife tucked inside his boot, but he was staring down the barrel of a variety of plasma weapons.

  “Return to your ship,” Bylerium told him calmly. “Your mistress is not in danger.”

  Left with no rational choice but surrender, Xorran shoved Bylerium back and motioned his companions toward the door. Technically they answered to the princess, not him, but they silently trailed along behind him until they reached the main lobby. Then Fobitar, the most talkative of her four guards—which wasn’t saying much—drew the others to a halt.

  “We can’t leave her here,” Fobitar objected.

  Xorran tensed, but tried not to snarl. “You saw the security feed. She’s right where she wants to be, away from us.”

  “We’re charged with her protection, whether she likes it or not.”

  “What do you suggest we do? We’re unarmed. Our movements are being watched, and the princess doesn’t want our assistance.”

  Fobitar looked at the other guards, frustration clear in his tense expression. “Queen Aurelia will have my ass if we walk away.”

  Xorran sighed. Paytor would be equally displeased. “Then we won’t tell them. As long as the princess returns in the next hour or two, there’s really no reason to admit defeat.”

  With a solemn nod, Fobitar agreed and the five men left IG Headquarters.

  Chapter Three

  Bright and early the following morning, Xorran was dressed and ready for the day. He was a man of action and all this waiting around was driving him crazy. He mistakenly thought this mission would be new and interesting. Fun. He’d actually thought it might be fun. But that was before he’d met the irrational princess he was now charged with protecting.

  If he thought about her stunt last night, he’d punch his fist through a wall. So he loitered in his small cabin aboard the princess’s ship and pinged AG Paytor, hoping to update him before Mirella dragged her pampered ass out of bed.

  “This is Paytor, go ahead.”

  The Triumphant was barely within range of his integrated com-system. The Bilarrian ship could boost the signal, but he wasn’t willing to risk someone listening in on the transmission. Instead, he sat on the edge of his neatly made bunk and focused, making the signal as strong as possible. “My target is going to be a problem. She isn’t interested in following the rules.” The transmission had multi-layer encryption, still his training taught him never to use proper names while communicating in hostile territory. Unfortunately, almost anywhere he went was hostile territory at the moment.

  “Meaning?”

  “She evaded me and the rest of her security detail last night and spent four and a half hours alone with one of the people we’re here to investigate.”

  Silence.

  Xorran was about to check the connection when Paytor said, “I don’t see the problem. What better way to investigate someone than to spend time alone with them? I call that ingenuity.”

  Tension wound around Xorran’s gut, then spread through his entire body. The general’s dismissive attitude was really starting to grate on him. “She put herself in real danger, sir. Her companion for the night is said to have all
sorts of powers.”

  Paytor’s laugh sounded harsh and hollow. “Your worry is extremely misguided. Your target can take care of herself. Besides if anything happens to her, the old one will be that much more motivated to help us.”

  Xorran clenched his fists. Paytor’s utter indifference to Mirella’s life infuriated him. Anyone was expendable unless they furthered the general’s agenda. It was an attitude shared by so many of the elite that it made him livid. No wonder the rebels had gone on the offensive. Still, understanding their motivation, didn’t excuse their actions. They betrayed their vows to Rodymia and broke countless laws, costing innocent people their lives. Regardless of their justifications, the rebels were criminals.

  “How would you like me to proceed?”

  “As before.” He sounded impatient, as if the answer was obvious. “Stay as close to her as she’ll let you, but don’t impede her progress in any way. If she wants to use that sweet little body to extract information for our side, let her. If she wants to bang the entire Triad on the conference table, make sure you record it. I don’t care how she gets it done. I want order restored to our world!”

  Knowing Paytor couldn’t see him, Xorran shook his head, disgusted by the general’s attitude. “Yes, sir.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. It was hard to pursue this particular goal because more and more Xorran found his heart with the “enemy”.

  “Don’t bother me again unless you have something to report.”

  * * * * *

  Mirella awakened the following morning with a smile still on her lips. Once she reached beyond Letos’s professional reserve, he’d become personable and engaging. They talked well into the night, laughing and sharing stories as if they’d known each other all their lives. At one point, he’d moved to the sofa beside her, but he never touched her, never acted on the attraction smoldering between them. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Was he less interested than his emotions indicated, or was something else holding him back? Rodytes were known to be bold, almost ruthless, in their pursuit of compatible mates. So why had the evening ended without so much as a kiss?

 

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