Invaders_Hotbloods 7

by Bella Forrest

  Implosion grenades, I thought. Stone had mentioned delivering some to Ezra before. Was this what they were, or was this some powered-up version of one? I had never imagined that something could decimate matter like that.

  With an unsettling whoosh, everything in the vicinity of the transporter was sucked into the burning ball of light, which remained at the center of destruction, sucking everything it could into its field of gravity. We were far enough away not to be affected, but the other fighters hadn’t been so lucky. Once the shimmering projectile had sated its voracious hunger, dragging in trees and earth, as well as ships, it burned all the brighter for several seconds, before exploding outward like a miniature supernova. The force of the blast knocked us backward, shattering the windshield, a hailstorm of splintered glass surging toward us. I covered my face with my hands, feeling the bite of the shards.

  A moment later, I unclipped myself from the seatbelts and hurried to the now-open window, staring down in horror. Commander Mahlo was dead. Orion was dead. The Fed agents and their nudus were dead.

  Ezra had killed everyone.

  He must have been hiding this weapon from Orion, all this time, to use for his own terrible purposes. This had been a trap of epic proportions, and we were the sole survivors.

  Down below, Ezra had shoved another rebel, whose wrist glowed with a purple nudus, out of the top of the tank. The rebel was young, and fear was written on his face as Ezra barked orders. Clearly, the new rebel leader had no idea there was still one Fed ship remaining—maybe we still had an advantage.

  “Open a path for me!” Ezra yelled, before ducking back into the safety of the tank. It rolled forward, moving through the trees toward the nudus shield that surrounded the base.

  “Bashrik, as soon as that rebel opens up a gap in the dome, we have to dive in there and go after Ezra,” I said, turning back to the rest of my crew. They were recovering from the shower of glass shards, a few trickles of blood, in three different colors, trailing rivulets down their weary faces.

  Bashrik nodded. “Setting a course now. Though, we should hang back a bit, in case Ezra spots us and tries to send another one of those… death balls at us.”

  “Agreed. We’ll keep a distance and then shoot through at the last moment,” Navan said.

  “If we chase him down, that’s suicide!” Angie squeaked, her eyes bulging out of her head. Nobody spoke, and the silence said more than any of us ever could.

  “We must not falter,” Xiphio said softly, putting his hand on Angie’s shoulder.

  “We should never have come here! We should never have made this deal—stuff your majority up your ass. This should never have happened!” Angie was screaming now, staring through the broken windshield at the spot where the transporter had been. I knew just how she felt.

  “We’ve got to chase Ezra, my love. Otherwise, he’ll use that thing on more people,” Bashrik said, his tone soothing. “My guess is, it requires an enormous amount of power—a one-shot wonder—but if he can recharge it, then we’ll be in serious trouble. It might be suicide, but there’s nothing else we can do.”

  Angie fell silent, her eyes taking on a haunted expression as Navan took over the controls, maneuvering the ship into position.

  We’d known all along that this was a trap. The Fed had known it, Ezra had known it, and yet we’d still come here and stepped into it, nonetheless. And now, those poor agents had paid for it with their lives. Commander Mahlo had paid for the “majority vote” with her life, too. Anger rose through my veins as I thought of all those back at Lunar HQ who’d voted for the deal without thinking of the consequences. It hadn’t been a risk worth taking. Everyone was dead—the prisoners included. It had all been for nothing.

  “It’s up to us now,” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else.

  We were in a military-grade ship, with a decent-sized, skilled crew. Even without a windshield to protect us from bullets and blasts, we had the cloaking shield up, which would give us some cover. It wasn’t really a choice anymore. We needed to see what damage we could do to the base, to Ezra, to the rebels, even if it cost us our lives. The ceasefire, which Orion had implemented, would be over the following day, and there was no telling what Ezra would do in that time. Maybe, without Orion to stop him, he planned to play Gianne at her own game, breaking the treaty before the time was up.

  More than that, now that Orion was out of the picture, Ezra could finally get around to using Yorrek’s notebook, without worrying about his leader discovering the truth of his betrayals. It wouldn’t be long before the alchemists cracked the code to the immortality elixir, using whatever lay within those pages. If he managed to do that, there would be no stopping him.

  It was now or never, no matter what the consequences might be.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The rebel wearing the nudus staggered through the dome, a gap opening in the blue haze. The tank rumbled through a moment later, with us following close behind. Ahead, the base was more or less as we’d left it, most of the buildings razed to nothing but rubble, smoke still rising from some of the wreckage. They had piled up the dead bodies, while the fallen ships were being stripped of anything useful.

  Scanning the horizon, I wondered where Alfa might be. All I could see were scattered groups of blue-clad rebels wandering about, with the queens’ soldiers keeping to their ships, which had taken up residence on the opposite side of the base. Then again, if there were still agents out here, I supposed that was the point. If I could see them, they’d be in danger.

  Below us, the ungainly tank trundled along, garnering attention from the rebels. They looked surprised to see it, as though they weren’t sure whose side it was on. As if to calm their fears, Ezra stuck his head out and sat up on the flat surface of the tank, waving to them like a politician on a parade float.

  Suddenly, his smile faded. He turned to look behind him, his gaze lifting to the spot where we hovered. It seemed the broken windshield had affected our cloaking device in some way. Even if he couldn’t properly see us, it was apparent he could hear us. From the expression on his face, he definitely knew we were here. He disappeared back into the belly of the tank and closed the hefty metal lid behind him.

  The gun turrets swiveled around to face us.

  The first blast hurtled toward us, though I was relieved to see it was an ordinary projectile, the kind most Vysanthean ships used. Even so, it and the next few pounded toward us in rapid succession, every boom thundering in my ears, shaking the skeleton of the Fed vessel.

  We swerved away from the onslaught, the shots dissipating through the haze of the shield. As Navan took the weapons controls, firing back at Ezra and his tank, Bashrik maneuvered us farther away from danger. He put the Fed vessel between Ezra and the queens’ section of the base. At first, I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but then it became clear—Bashrik was a genius. The cloaking device still covered the majority of our ship, so when Ezra fired on us and we moved out of the way, it would look as though Ezra was firing on the queens instead.

  “Bashrik, you absolute beauty!” I whooped as he settled into position, facing our ship toward the barrel of the tank’s cannon.

  Angie glanced at me. “I think you mean lunatic.”

  “Indeed not, Miss Angie. I believe Bashrik is attempting to fool the queens into thinking that Ezra has broken the treaty,” Xiphio chimed in, an impressed expression on his face.

  She grimaced. “Has everyone been briefed on this except me, or are you all just freaking psychic?”

  “No way, this is winging it in its purest form,” I replied.

  A blast tore from Ezra’s cannon, releasing a fireball of bronze energy. It wasn’t the same as the crackling ball of bright light, but I had a feeling it was going to be just as nasty. Bashrik barrel-rolled our ship beneath the weapon while I clung to a chair for dear life. It soared past us, hitting one of Queen Gianne’s red-and-black striped ships with a thunderous boom. From the center of the bronze ball, smaller bronze bal
ls emerged, their shape changing into scuttling creatures that hurried across the exterior of the ship, destroying the engines.

  “Now… we wait,” Bashrik said, smiling nervously.

  “Good job, Brother,” Navan commended him, though his eyes never left the weapons screen. His hands danced over the controls, keeping up the barrage of artillery against Ezra.

  It took barely five minutes for Queen Gianne’s soldiers to jump into action, their monarch evidently believing what we’d hoped she would—that Ezra had broken the ceasefire. Her infantry poured down the gangways of the royal fleet, heavily armed and ready for battle. Fighter vessels lifted from the ground, staying beneath the thrum of the nudus shield, where they wouldn’t lose sight of the enemy.

  The South Vysanthean army surged toward Ezra’s tank, while smaller rebel ships rallied to his aid, on seeing that all hell was about to break loose. Shortly afterward, the green-and-silver soldiers of Brisha’s army began to flood out of their ships, the North Vysanthean fighter ships taking off to join the battle against the rebels. With two queens in the fight, panic ensued, the blue-uniformed coldbloods and shifters running for weapons and, in some cases, hiding places. A blur appeared from behind one of the towers, a deft hand cutting down those rebels who tried to run for cover. Alfa was alive and well, though our reunion with him would have to wait. Right now, I wanted to ensure that the queens were focused on fighting Ezra, and nothing else.

  “We need to keep back,” I said, turning to Bashrik. “Stay as close to the alchemy lab as you can, without arousing any suspicion.”

  “You want to let them destroy each other?” Navan asked.

  I smiled uneasily. “If possible.”

  The rebels were completely overwhelmed, the queens’ attack taking them by surprise. Even though they’d likely been anticipating a retaliation once the ceasefire was over, it was evident that they weren’t prepared for this. I imagined Orion had assured them the queens would accept his proposal, or, at the very least, that they’d have the full three days to replenish and regroup their forces.

  Angie unclipped herself and hurried over to where I stood. “What a coward, sitting in his tank all cozy while everyone else gets blown to pieces,” she murmured. “With a gun that big, he must be compensating."

  I grinned, her joke making me feel less on edge. “At least he isn’t firing on us anymore.”

  Below, he was trying to fend off the advances of Queen Gianne’s forces, who seemed to be focusing their fire on him. The tank was sturdy and protected with some sort of defensive technology, but it wouldn’t last against an entire army’s wrath. The rest of her fleet had turned its attention toward the alchemy lab, ferocious blasts pummeling the outer walls until it began to crumble, vast flames licking upward. Queen Brisha’s ships joined in, the two sisters working, miraculously, as one. I didn’t envision their harmonious teamwork lasting, but it was useful to us right now.

  “The dome!” Xiphio called, unclipping himself and hurrying over to the broken windshield, where Angie and I were already standing. Together, the three of us stared up at the blue shield as it flickered.

  Patches appeared in the shield, great chunks of it losing power. My eyes turned to the roof of the alchemy lab, where the almost-liquid pillar of blue had been surging upward, just moments before, feeding the nudus shield. I couldn’t make out the figure holding the shield, through the shimmering miasma of white-hot projectiles, burning walls, and thick smoke, but I knew he was there. To the very last, he would hold that shield, just as he’d been instructed. Another blind follower of a hopeless cause.

  Now that we were closer to the alchemy lab, we had a better view of the queens’ forces. A missile rocketed from the end of a gun, heading straight for the rooftop. It hit its mark with a resounding crash of stone and metal. As the nudus shield flickered and died, I knew the boy had died too.

  “Orval,” I said sadly, remembering the sweet-faced, frightened rebel who’d been forced into taking the nudus from Stone. He’d been pure of heart—the nudus wouldn’t have picked him if he hadn’t been. Now, just like those aboard the Fed transporter, he was another tragic casualty in an endless list.

  “Watch out from above,” Navan warned.

  “Diverting power into cloaking and defense barriers,” Bashrik replied.

  Frowning, I looked up to see what they meant. Now that the nudus shield had vanished, the humans were seizing their opportunity. From their gunships and fighter jets, they bombed the rebels and the queens, not bothering to discern between the two. Weapons of chaos and destruction rained down on those below, while the queens’ vessels fired back as best they could. The rebels didn’t have the ships to spare, and they were too busy trying to fend off the queens’ fleets. It looked like the disappearance of the shield had taken everyone by surprise, leaving them vulnerable and exposed to fire from above.

  “Ezra is on the move!” I yelled, catching sight of the weaselly coldblood escaping from a secret hatch in the back of his tank. He sprinted across the ground, heading for the woods. If he’d been hiding a tank in that woodland, I wondered what else he was hiding… perhaps all the things he hadn’t wanted Orion to find out about.

  Yorrek’s notebook.

  “What, where?” Bashrik scanned the movement radar, but there were too many dots clustering the screen.

  “He’s heading for the woods!”

  “I’ve got eyes on him,” Navan said, sending a navigation image to Bashrik’s monitor.

  The Fed ship swooped low across the treetops as we tried to pick out Ezra beneath the canopy. It wasn’t easy; the boughs and dense leaves provided the perfect cover, especially from the skies. All we had to go by was a tiny dot on a screen moving steadily ahead of us.

  “For Rask’s sake,” Navan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in exasperation.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “He’s got a ship down there.”

  A sleek rebel vessel burst from the trees, almost knocking us out of the way. Our ship swerved to avoid it, but the rebel ship didn’t even bother to pause and fire at us. It pressed on, heading for the skies. As it passed, I could see Ezra sitting at the helm, though I didn’t get a good look at his face. I hoped he was terrified. His rebel coup was going to the dogs, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  “Wait, he’s heading for space,” Navan said, gawping slightly. “He’s retreating!”

  Sure enough, the rebel ship had its nose pointed upward, the engines churning out vibrant jets of burning fuel as it soared ever higher. Evidently, he had a comms device on board, because as soon as he moved toward escaping the planet, a handful of rebel ships hurried after him, following him up toward the edge of Earth’s stratosphere and beyond. I could hardly believe what I was seeing… The rebels were running away.

  “That’s right, you evil sons of bitches, run for your lives! Let’s see those tails between your legs!” Angie whooped. “Sons of frostfangs, all of you!”

  Bashrik chuckled. “Nice to see you picking up the lingo.”

  “I would really rather we left the vulgarities to the rebels,” Xiphio said, his cheeks purple with embarrassment.

  “Not even an innocent mention of them being absolute waggleflappers?” I chimed in. Xiphio’s face became a mask of shock.

  “Miss Riley, I really would not have expected such filth to come out of your mouth. You’re a captain. You ought to be setting a good example.”

  I chuckled. “Stone would approve, and he’s a captain too.”

  “He is not a captain; he is a pirate captain. There is a difference.”

  “Hate to break up the good feeling, but the queens are turning on the humans,” Navan said reluctantly, gesturing toward the radar screen. We peered out of the broken windshield to see what he meant. Sure enough, now that most of the remaining rebel fleet had abandoned the base, the queens were focusing their attention on the human aircraft above them. Since the humans no longer had the elements of surprise or distraction, they were
completely overwhelmed—their human jets and gunships, complete with shells and missiles, couldn’t do much against Vysanthean blasters and protective barriers.

  “Why don’t they just leave?” I hissed.

  Angie sighed. “What can we do to stop them?”

  “I have an idea,” Navan said, as his hands worked on the controls, bringing up a comms screen. He typed a message into a dialogue box, before sending it into the ether. Presumably, once received, the person on the other end could decide if they wanted to speak to us or not.

  The soundwaves ran in a flat line for what seemed like forever, until the sound of a familiar voice spiked it upward in a sharp rise.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “This had better not be who I think it is,” Brisha remarked, her voice distinctly unimpressed.

  “And if it happens to be us?” I replied, knowing she could cut the transmission at any time.

  “You better have a good reason for calling. As you can see, I am in the middle of a war and cannot afford to be distracted by disloyal defectors.”

  “Since you responded, we’ll take that as a good sign,” Navan pressed on. “The thing is, Ezra has escaped, and we think he’s got Yorrek’s notebook with him.”

  “How did he get his hands on that? I thought it had been lost in the wreckage of Nessun.” Now, we had her attention.

  “It’s a long story, and not one we really have time to get into right now,” I said apologetically. “We’ll tell you everything the next time we meet, face-to-face, but for now we need you to trust us.”

  She snorted. “Trust you?”