As usual, his response was full of sound wisdom and logic. She knew what was at stake and grasped that it was Tordin’s honorable duty to intervene.
Malm entered in a hurry, which was out of character for him.
“Sire,” and seeing Kyra, he added a new address, “and Lady. We have a location not too far from where most of the conflict is happening. They appreciate your presence and offer to assist. They await our arrival. If you are ready, we can leave now.”
Tordin gave Kyra a tight squeeze and a kiss as he prepared to leave with Malm. “I’ll leave my vo-link on so we can communicate. Please stay close to the quarters or here. I don’t know what we’re going into, and I need to know you’re safe.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said with a wave of her hand, trying to appear casual when she was anything but. “I’m going to work in Operations. That will keep me busy and not so worried about what’s going on with you every second. Trust me, you want me busy and not keeping you on the vo-link while I listen to you breathe,” she said with a laugh, trying to deflect her fears for him.
He smiled, catching her apprehension and agreed, “Okay, off you go. I’ll make sure to let you know when we land and you…” he bent down for another kiss, “are to stay in our rooms, here in the office or in the operations area. No roaming around. You hear me?”
“You need to include the Healing Section, too. I’m going to check on Phoebe today, especially since Malm will be with you. I think she’ll be able to tell he’s not there, and I want to make sure she has someone with her.”
“Yes, my love. That is wise to check on her. I’ll leave Jalek here on board if you require anything.”
She watched him leave with Malm. The emptiness of his absence crept in fast as she hurried to the operations room to keep herself busy.
* * *
This day seemed like the longest she’d endured in her life. She fought the urge to contact Tordin every few moments. She didn’t want to act like a typical worried wife, but she couldn’t stop her thoughts from drifting to him and what might be happening. She couldn’t get settled since he’d been gone, distracted by a niggling in the pit of her stomach. She hoped it was simply nerves and the fact that this was their first time apart as mates and not something more sinister.
She had a mate to think about now. It was surreal to think of herself as a mate or wife, especially to an alien superhero of a man. But that’s what she was. Kyra was in awe at how fast her life had changed in such a short time. Maybe she didn’t have to harbor bad feelings toward Brantley—he was the indirect reason she met Tordin.
Brantley had been mighty quiet of late; Tordin mentioned he’d received reports that Brantley was sleeping most of the time and not being his usual annoying self. Kyra had to confess that last part was her commentary and not Tordin’s. She felt a laugh sneak up at the thought of Tordin ever saying that something was annoying. He seemed to glide through life, taking on all things with a majestic grace she found beyond sexy.
Tordin. That wonderful man was hers, her mate. She sighed in contentment. He had no problem letting his crew on all the ships know she was his mate, and that she was to be treated as such. The operations crew she worked with showed a new reverence for her now. She didn’t know if she liked it or not, but she’d live with it.
Kyra felt uncertain about having no tangible symbol of her joining with Tordin, though. There was no ring. What signaled to others that they were mates? Sure, they hadn’t had a ceremony, but he’d explained that they were considered to the be the Earth equivalent of married. Kyra, however, wanted a ring. With their mutually agreed-upon mating and joining, his father had given his blessing and decreed in the records back on Olodia that they were mated. She didn’t want to be a whiner, but she wanted a ring or some such symbol. He assured her that their mating was binding forever. There was no such thing as divorce or going away from each other, and she knew she’d never want to, anyway. She was a stick-and-stay kind of woman. At the moment, though, she was a married woman, worried about her husband—and she wanted a ring.
With that loop now banging around in her head, she tried to concentrate on working. What must have been at least a few hours passed, and her vo-link buzzed. “Thank you, Goddess,” she whispered. Tordin was calling. When she answered, an unfamiliar voice resounded in her head.
“Who is this?” she asked, startled and a bit panicked.
“Lady Kyra, please come to the Healing Section. Something appears to be wrong with Phoebe.”
Her heart leaped into her throat at the mention of Phoebe. What could be wrong? Then she mentally kicked herself for not following her instinct to go to her sooner. But who was this talking with her?
So she asked again, “Excuse me, but who is this? Where are the Healers?”
Silence.
The intuition of deception snaked up and down her spine. Something was not right. She knew it just as surely as she knew she loved Tordin.
“I’m going to ask you one more time. Who is this, and what have you done to Phoebe?”
“Who I am is no concern of yours, but if you want to see your precious Phoebe again, you’ll come to the Healing Section now.”
Tingling pinpricks of numbness ran through her fingers while her stomach flipped with anxiety. Someone had Phoebe or wanted her to think they did. With a quick look around the operations room, she spotted the lead warrior and strode quickly over to him.
“Excuse me, Palon, but I need your help with something. Someone who refused to identify himself just contacted me on my private vo-link and said I had to come to the Healing Section, or he’d do something to Phoebe. Is there anyway you can help me find out who he is and what’s going on down there before I go?”
“Oh, Lady, most certainly. Please, give me your vo-link, and I’ll run a scan to see if it is working properly. Did this just happen now or some time ago?”
Kyra was too charged with adrenaline to focus clearly, but she tried to give Palon the answers he needed. “The male just called. It’s the only call I’ve received since Tordin left for the surface.”
Palon placed the disk into what looked like a centrifugal spinner and allowed the machine to hum and work. When he retrieved it, it had turned into something akin to a piece of coal.
“Lady, did anyone have access to your vo-link? It has been compromised. It also looks like the commander’s link to it was severed.”
“What does that mean? Is Tordin hurt?” she asked, trying to keep panic from overtaking her.
“No, it means his calls to you will not connect.”
“Is there a way to see if he’s attempted to contact me? Is there ever a time when someone might not answer a vo-link call? I don’t want him to think I was ignoring him.”
“You might not answer a call by ignoring it or the link being corrupted or compromised. I suspect your issue is the latter. I’m pulling the activity from your vo-link now.” Palon moved quickly, running reports and working to get her some answers. He shot looks of concern over to her a few times but kept working fast. After a few more minutes, he read the results from his tablet. “The commander has attempted to connect with you four times in the last…” he paused, mentally calculating time into her earth clock equivalent. She was grateful for his accommodation and realized they’d had this entire conversation in English. “Four Earth hours. Yes, he’s attempted to contact you four times in four hours.”
“Would he think something was wrong if I didn’t answer?” she asked.
“He might not, since the atmosphere on Nenndi is full of raw energy from the crystals and interference from all the explosions and fighting. He may think the link is weak on his end.”
“Sugar! I need to get in touch with him. Is there another more secure vo-link where I can contact him privately?”
“I can configure one quickly. Please give me a moment to get it online with his frequency, and then we can try it. In the meantime, I’ve had some of the others working on what is happening in the Healing Section
, and it looks like something is amiss.”
“What? Don’t just stand there, Palon. I have to figure out what to do. Phoebe is down there.” Kyra knew she had spoken rudely and quickly corrected herself, “Palon, please forgive me. I just need to make the best decision that will keep everyone safe, and time is ticking. He said I had to come now, and it’s been a few minutes since then.”
“Yes, I know, my Lady. Please remember it takes time to walk from here all the way down there, so we’re using that time to put in a patch that will send back visuals from her compartment.”
Another warrior called out, “Got it, Palon. Sending the link to your station, and you’re not going to like what you see.”
Palon’s huge monitors changed to what looked like a live feed of Phoebe’s room.
“Brantley! That bastard!” Kyra yelled, unable to hold in her anger any longer. “Palon, quick—who are those other…things with him?”
Palon stared at the screen with undisguised horror. “My Lady, we have to shut down that space immediately. Those are Skleen! They are deadly, parasitic, humanoid-like beings who suck the life force out of others. They kill indiscriminately. They are usually mercenaries for hire. Someone called or sent for them. They don’t come unless there is payment and/or life force to be harvested.”
“But how did they get on board and into Phoebe’s room?” she asked, not believing her eyes.
The ’Skleen’ as he’d labeled them, looked almost translucent, with waxy skin and hollow eyes. They stood about the same height as Brantley’s 5’9” and looked like something from Halloween. There were five of them in the room, surrounding Phoebe as Brantley paced back and forth. She watched as one of them used a vo-link to attempt a call. Kyra imagined it was attempting to contact her again. When there was no answer, she saw them push Brantley out the entrance as they began to walk down the corridor.
“Palon, quick, get Jalek to send men down to that area to close them off. Make sure he knows they’re armed. Tell him to also make sure his warriors don’t kill all of them. We need to capture them in order to find out how they got on the ship and what their plan is.”
“Lady, Jalek is already ahead of you. Watch.”
Kyra looked at his monitor just in time to see Jalek himself take down two of the Skleen in a surprise attack from behind. Another warrior subdued the one who’d attempted to contact her, and yet another grabbed Brantley and the last one, marching them off, out of the monitor frame.
“Where are they taking them?” Kyra asked, still watching the rest of the warriors gathering up the bodies of the defeated Skleen.
Palon didn’t respond, and she realized he was on a vo-link call. When he disconnected he relayed the information.
“That was Jalek. He and his guard have eight Skleen down in the transport room, and they are about to have them transported to the penal ship. He wants to know if you’d like Brantley sent there, as well. It seems we are at fault for some of this. Brantley was able to send a message down to Nenndi, and the Skleen intercepted it and made contact. According to the leader of this group, Brantley managed to allow them to come on board while everyone was concentrating on the commander leaving the ship. There’s something else.”
“What is it?” she asked, dreading any worse news.
“Brantley promised them they could have the mate of the Crown Prince of Olodia as payment for his rescue. They came here on a kidnapping mission.”
“What? Brantley contacted those things looking to get rescued and made a deal to help them kidnap some poor female? Who is she? I didn’t know there were any other women in the fleet but Phoebe and me.”
Palon looked at Kyra with the oddest expression before he said, “It’s you Kyra. You’re Tordin’s mate.”
“Duh, I know that, but you said the Crown Prince of Olodia, not Tordin. Does Cordin have a wife, I mean, mate?”
Palon continue to look at her strangely but said, “Not that I’m aware of. My Lady…I know it might not be common knowledge outside this fleet, but Tordin and the Crown Prince are one and the same. He’s the Crown Prince to ascend the throne. That makes you the Princess of Olodia through your mating to him.”
Her knees buckled, and she had to sit down for a moment. She was like the first lady, but of a galaxy. “Wow—I didn’t know. Tordin never said anything about being the next in line to the Emperor’s throne. I think I’m going to be sick.”
Palon rushed her to a chair and gave her a large container of gaiata. Once she drank enough to regain her composure, she asked, “Does Tordin’s older brother know this? That Tordin is the Crown Prince instead of him?”
Palon hesitated as if trying to decide what to say. Then he spoke. “Lady Kyra, it is not safe to have these types of conversations out in the open, considering the security breech we’ve experienced. But for your sake and safety, I’ll give you a quick summary of what we know. We believe—it’s speculation at best—that he may have recently found out, and that is why the Skleen were on the ship, trying to lure you down to the Healing Section. They either want to ransom you back to Tordin themselves, or they’re working for Cordin. We’re not sure yet. Jalek and his men are still interrogating them. Then they will send them over to the penal ship.”
She nodded and quickly processed the new information. Kyra felt a new power rising up within her. She’d make the Skleen pay for almost harming Phoebe. Brantley was less than a dead man now, and Cordin would pay for causing her mate to go through so much drama. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and all that jazz. They messed up when they messed with her and those she loved.
“Palon, please contact Jalek to see when it’s clear for me to check on Phoebe. And have him send Brantley to the penal ship. Put him in the worse quarters available,” she said, determined to not let anyone, including Brantley, take away her new, hard-won confidence. She was a survivor, not a victim, and she’d see her friend and find a way to connect with her mate. New understanding coursed through her, and she welcomed the good feeling.
In the Healing Section, Jalek’s men found the Healers locked in a supply closet. She was relieved they were all right and made apologies for them having to endure the crazy Brantley’s antics. In their usual wisdom, they expressed no hard feelings and quickly returned to their duties, checking on their patients, including Phoebe.
Kyra stared at Phoebe’s still sleeping form. She lay there as if nothing had happened, oblivious to the room full of hulking males swarming around her for evidence the Skleen might have left behind, and the Healers making sure she was all right.
Kyra wanted Tordin. Her mind kept drifting to him, and she needed to know he was safe. Palon had assured her that he would connect her to to Tordin’s vo-link when she came back to operations, and she itched to go back and talk with Tordin.
But she stayed.
Guilt for not being there for her friend when danger came close slithered up to ride her old scars of self-doubt. Remembering a long talk she’d had with Tordin about forgiveness and true strength, she shook it off. She’d live in this moment where Phoebe was safe and well looked after. She’d concentrate on what happened that was good, instead of what could have been so very bad. After the room cleared out, she went close to Phoebe’s container and spoke.
“Phee, I’m so very sorry I wasn’t here when those creatures invaded your room. I did see how Jalek and his men were able to catch them quickly, and I’m so glad you’re all right. Malm should be back soon, and I know he’ll come to see you as soon as he can. Oh, how I wish you could talk with me. I’m praying for you to wake up soon so we can catch up. I’ve only been mated for days, but it feels so good and…” Kyra felt a strong force against the back of her head.
The invisible blow was so forceful, it caused her to see double for a moment. Kyra’s instincts went on high alert. “Tordin!”
She raced from Phoebe’s room to the operations area to find Palon. Something was wrong with Tordin, and she had to raise him on the vo-link—now. Running like she was steal
ing home base, she slid into Operations. Palon was at his station working in a frenzy. He didn’t bother to look up when she pounced on him.
“Palon, something’s wrong with Tordin. I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head, like I was struck, and I know it has to do with Tordin. Can you please connect me to him now? I have to hear his voice to make sure he’s all right.”
“My Lady, that is the issue. We’ve been attempting to connect with him since you left to see Phoebe. We’ve been unsuccessful. The vo-link is working—we’re able to connect with Nenndi, but none of the initial surface party are answering, including Malm or Lord Tordin. My extreme apologies.”
Kyra stared through him. She would not accept this. This was Tordin he was talking about, her Warrior Lord. Before her brain could catch up, she grabbed a vo-link that sat on Palon’s desk and connected to Jalek. When he answered, she had her plan in mind and wouldn’t take no for answer.
14
“But Lady Kyra, I cannot take you to the surface. Lord Tordin gave specific orders that I stay on board and protect you. I can’t do that in an unknown environment. I don’t know the surface well enough to plan for the number of warriors we’ll need,” Jalek said, trying to get her to understand she wasn’t going down to the planet.
“Jalek, I want you to find a way to accommodate my request or get out of my way. I’m going down to find Tordin with or without you. He’s in trouble, I know it. I have to find him,” she said, in no mood to argue with the handsome, young, amethyst-eyed warrior.
Jalek gave her a pleading look—a puppy dog-eyed, last-ditch effort—but she’d not be moved, especially when it came to Tordin. Everything in Kyra screamed danger for Tordin, and she was in no mood to hear anything except that Jalek was either going to help or get out of her way. Finally, when he seemed to realize they were in what Earthians would call a stalemate, he relented.
Rescued By Tordin: Olodian Alien Warrior Romance Page 16
