Ruptured: The Cantati Chronicles

by Gallagher, Maggie Mae

  Bugger it, love was for children. It did not exist in the Cantati world. The lack made me question why we fought Drystan at all. There was no warmth left in this world. And what I craved, what I longed for, the stories of love I had read, were fairy tales from an age that died eighty-three years ago.

  So I turned that need outward, trained harder, became the better soldier. I bled for my people, sacrificed the daylight and lived for the night, devoted my life to ending the war that almost eradicated us. I loved my job, loved everything about it and gave the Cantati all of me, save one thing. But now they wanted my soul, too.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” I shot out of the chair like a launched grenade and made a beeline for the door. The walls shrank as my panic escalated. Trapped, I felt my pulse thump wildly. I had to escape, even for a short while. I doubted that once he deemed it time for us to begin, he would allow me to leave my prison room for more than meals.

  Cade stood with me and halted my escape. Full-blown panic enveloped me, and my hands fisted defensively as he dragged me into his arms.

  “To seal the Council’s command.”

  His lips crashed over mine. This was no gentle seduction, but a full on frontal assault. Instinctively, my hands shoved at his mammoth chest. Shock froze my brain. Every fiber of my being protested the swiftness of his brutal mating. His arms squeezed air from my lungs, and I gasped. Cade pressed his advantage and penetrated my mouth with his tongue, mimicking what he was permitted to do with my body by order of the Densare Council. As his mate, even after I was pregnant, I was his now and forever until death.

  He moaned as I gagged on his tongue, which he forcefully shoved far down my throat. I saw red. Without considering the ramifications, I bit down. I bit down hard, shoving all my hatred into my bite, until I drew blood.

  Cade yelped and shoved me against the door, making the hinges rattle. He wiped blood from his mouth and tongue onto the collar of his white shirt, staining the fabric. My soul iced at the ferocity of his features. I had witnessed this look of his a time or two, right before he decapitated an Efrit, a nine-foot beast bred in the fires of Infernus with a head shaped like a crocodile and known for its lightning fast decapitations. How bad would his retribution be?

  “Bitch. Since you like it rough, we can begin as soon as I return from my mission. Go, before I change my mind and decide to tie you to my bed and not let you up until you are with child.”

  He opened the door, and I stumbled out. I wiped away the tangy metallic flavor of his blood still fresh in my mouth. I felt nothing for him but revulsion. I wanted to shout at the gods. Demand that my fate belong to me instead of that behemoth.

  How could I willingly submit my body to him?

  Chapter Two

  “General, I must speak with you.”

  I marched into my father’s office, uncaring of potential recourse. He was conferencing with the other Compounds: Versailles, Berlin, Kremlin, Cape Town, Sydney, Hong Kong, and Rio. The holographic images of each general were displayed on ancient analog computer monitors lining the walls. Dressed in tan fatigues, my father had gray hair buzzed so close to the scalp that the overhead fluorescent lighting gave it a ghostly sheen. He held up his hand toward me, silencing any outburst.

  “General, by our latest estimates, should the attacks increase, we will be at full-scale war before the week is out,” General Rémy, leader of the Versailles Compound and eldest of the commanders, commented with the barest trace of an accent. A full head of thick, stark-white hair crowned his ruddy, wrinkled features. The man had to be nearing eighty. Living that long in these times was a feat of damn near mythic proportions.

  My father returned his concentration back to his audience, not allowing my interruption to interfere with his meeting. He commanded the devoted attention of every one of his men. A trailblazer among the Cantati since I was a child, he was powerfully built, even at fifty, from a lifetime spent fighting Drystan’s armies. When he entered a room, men quieted. When he spoke, men listened. He had always made me proud as a child, so I knew with every fiber of my being that it was my destiny to follow in his footsteps.

  “Is this true?” my father inquired, and glanced at each of his generals, hardened warriors bred in the aftermath of the Mutari, who had been elevated through hard work and circumstance. Generals tended to have very short life-spans. They had all been in their positions only half a dozen years, as much as I could remember. My father was the only one I knew of who had been in a position of command most of my life. He had survived through steely determination and men who were willing to sacrifice their lives to ensure he continued to lead us.

  General Phi Gong, from Hong Kong, responded, “Yes, we are experiencing rising numbers as well. In the last week, my troops have been raided on nightly patrols by demons in larger platoons than we have witnessed in a generation.”

  “The Rio Compound has been attacked twice this week alone,” said General Luis Borges.

  Really? Only twice? We had been hit four times this week, and you did not see us whining about it. Man needed to grow a pair. The larger numbers concerned me, though. Why increase numbers now? I sent my demon sensors into overdrive, hoping they would help me with the riddle. Every Cantati was gifted with preternatural abilities, my specialty was I had a built in demon detector and could sense them within a five mile radius.

  “Our compound has been hit five times in the last nine days,” countered General Langstone in Australia.

  So Hong Kong, Rio, and Sydney had all experienced escalations. What was Drystan’s end game? None of us knew why he had unleashed his armies upon the globe. Any squad that had been sent on a mission to uncover that secret had never returned. And why now? Why the rapid surge in attacks? There was never a time he wasn’t sending his minions after us, but he’d suddenly and radically changed his strategy. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.

  “It is the Council’s belief that Drystan is changing the angle of his attacks,” my father said. “We need to send scouts into the Desert to find the jump points. Once we locate the portals, I want a coordinated effort to destroy them. Send a platoon with as much C-4 as your troops can muster. I want to blow those sons of bitches back to hell where they belong.”

  That’s my dad: if you couldn’t beat them by hand, toss an explosive their way and see what happens. He was one of the reasons why most of the United States was a desert wasteland. When the Easter Eve raid hit the United States, the staggering numbers of enemy invaders had left the Council no choice but to detonate a few nuclear bombs. Would it come to that at the Tower Compound? The Kremlin Compound still had access to all its codes so it wasn’t completely out of the question.

  Even through the holographic images, his generals stonily stood at attention as he continued. “In addition, the Council is traveling to the Versailles Compound in the morning. They plan to further investigate the massive breach issue. General Rémy?”

  What?! The Council was leaving! What the bloody hell for? They had not left the safe confines of the Tower Compound in more than a decade. Tendrils of unease stroked through my sensors. How vulnerable would our Compound be without them? The Compounds had divided the Coven members up as a way to utilize their gifts to add magic to our defenses. Lately, they had decided that each Compound would house one Coven member, while the rest were sent to Versailles to work on potions. The Coven Mother’s absence would create gaps in our ability to defend this place.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I want your divisions on high alert until the Council arrives. You are to notify my office once they are securely ensconced behind your Compound walls. We will wait to begin our assault until then.” General O’Hare’s voice boomed as he responded leaving no room for disagreement. The Council had promoted him to high commander recently. It was a mantle I did not believe he wanted, but as always, he followed the Council’s orders.

  “Is that a good idea for the Council to travel with the increased attacks?” General Rusakov
asked, trepidation clouding his voice. The Kremlin Compound had been hit viciously hard recently, harder than most. I wanted to know the same thing Rusakov did. Why would the Council leave the Compound now? What squad had been assigned to protect that many VIPs? My platoon was the best by a long shot, but I would not leave the Compound vulnerable like that, even if my father ordered me to. How were they planning to travel to Versailles?

  “I agree. We cannot afford to lose them,” General Adler murmured, concern etched across his sunken features. Since the majority of assaults happened at night, Cantati Forces had a severe sun deficiency. Years of living at night and getting whatever shut-eye we could during the day, had taken its toll on even the most stalwart among us.

  “The Coven Mother and rest of the Council not only need to investigate the massive breach General Rémy reported,” my father said, “but the Coven has notified us that it is close to perfecting its growth serum and ready to begin patient trials. The Council wants to oversee the first doses. While the timing is difficult, it is irrelevant in light of our potential ability to add more fighters to our ranks.”

  I wondered who the test subjects would be and whether they would have a choice in the matter. With the way the Council ruled our world, I highly doubted it.

  “Agreed,” General Langstone replied, followed by General Anderson, General Borges, General Gong, and General Rémy.

  Out-voted, General Adler and Rusakov both conceded the point. Whatever else I thought of my father, men followed his leadership.

  “I want our attacks to run like clockwork. Each explosion must happen within minutes of the first detonation. General Langstone, your attack must be timed precisely at sunrise in Sydney in two days’ time. That will afford the Council members enough time to be safely entrenched behind the walls of Versailles before our attacks begin. Then the rest of the Compounds will follow within minutes of the first strike. Langstone, send the exact timing to everyone in this room. Form your battalions now and send out your finest scouts.”

  “Yes, sir.” General Langstone nodded his agreement.

  “General Borges, your attack will be the only one conducted at night. Send as many as you can without compromising the Rio Compound.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Send me status updates on each mission, we will reconvene in seventy-two hours. Good hunting men, and good luck to us all.” He ended the transmissions and the room dulled without the light of the holograms. My father’s office was fairly utilitarian. He had a wooden desk, his one concession to history, which commandeered most of the office space. The old analog monitors sat on tables that lined each wall, except the one behind him, which was lined with silver gunmetal to help reinforce the wall. A Cantati genius had discovered a way to use the old phone lines to establish connections with the other compounds.

  “Why aren’t you and Cade in your room?” he questioned from behind the mammoth desk. It always made me feel like I was five years old again withstanding his scrutiny. The man never spoke with me about anything but business. Definitely no Father of the Year Awards coming his way. Did he even love me? I knew he loved my mother, but me? I was not certain. He never said it, and I stopped asking why. It hurt less that way.

  “You knew?” I questioned him. I realized word traveled fast and furious in our underground haven, but this had to be a record. Although, the general’s daughter sentenced to be a Breeder had probably been the most exciting news in a decade, especially here lately. It was a far cry from our daily death-toll reports. News at eleven, who gets to bed the general’s ice-maiden daughter.

  “Of course I did. Did you think the Council would not inform me of their decision concerning one of my platoon leaders?” He stared, impatience stamped across his stern features. His gray mustache twitched.

  Or your daughter, I left that unsaid.

  What would it take for him to give a shit? Would he be proud once I had birthed the next generation? Because everything I had done thus far, clawing my way up through the ranks, making myself the best damn soldier, appeared to be for naught. Even after all this time, his caustic remarks made my soul bleed.

  “So you are fine with the fact that the Council gave Cade an all-access pass to rape me whenever he sees fit?”

  I studied his reaction. He didn’t even flinch.

  “We all must do our duty. This is yours and that of any remaining female of an age able to bear children.”

  Cold bastard.

  “But what about my platoon? I’m the best you’ve got, and you fucking know it. You need my platoon on this scouting mission to stop Drystan’s bastards in their tracks, not getting bedded by Cade,” I yelled. I’d never let my anger with him show, but the pent-up frustration seethed and engulfed me.

  “Say the word, General,” I said, “and I can have my men suited up within the hour. We can provide the bomb squad with the precise locations of the jump points and help protect them as they set the explosives. That is where I am needed.” I craved action, with the desire to pummel something into dust. There was more to life than this. There had to be. I did not want to be dead inside like so many of the women I knew. Drones who bowed and scraped for their protector’s affection. I did not need or want their so-called protection. I could bloody well protect myself better than any man. What I needed was my freedom, my ability to choose my fate instead of it being laid at my feet.

  “My best? That remains to be seen. If that’s the case, then you would follow my orders and that of the Council without question. Then we wouldn’t be having this discussion, and you would be in your room with Cade doing your duty. I have already sent part of your squad out with Rick Sloan, from Cade’s unit, as temporary commander of the Green Squad, until I make the decision to promote one of your majors. Part of Cade’s squad is escorting the Council on the morrow to Versailles, and you better be well on your way to being pregnant by then.” He coldly assessed me, no hint of warmth in his gaze. Maybe it would have been better if Drystan’s armies had wiped the globe clean of the human race, if this was what we had become. I could not fathom my father betraying me like this, after all we had been through together. He reassigned my squad—to Rick Sloan, one of Cade’s men, no less—without the courtesy of informing me first. I had not even been provided the civility of telling my men myself.

  “How could you remove me from my squad? And then let them mate me with Cade?” I asked, choking on my words. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. It was unfathomable. I blinked back the tears, unwilling to falter under his intense scrutiny. Weakness of any variety was unacceptable in a platoon commander, although I guess that did not apply to me any longer. I was a leader of no one.

  “Because I suggested he would be the one best suited,” he replied simply. Case closed, no further arguments necessary on my part.

  Sweet merciful goddess!

  I was surprised I was still standing. In a single swipe, he had metaphorically punched a hole clean through my chest. He had suggested Cade to the Council? I knew the Coven Mother had become my father’s mate with the death of the previous high commander and held sway now with the way she voted, but to cast my fate into Cade’s hands … I reeled at the thought. My simple world, the one I understood, had been upended and I grasped at the falling pieces.

  “How could you sell me out? And to him? How could you?” I cursed myself for the trembling emotions. The vacuum of my world shrank into darkness, and my head swam with the implications. I had always believed, for all his gruffness, that my father had my back, that it was one of the reasons I had remained unmatched for so long. Could it be he had just placed me on reserve until another more-able-bodied male candidate appeared to step into my position? How could I have been so stupid and smug in my belief?

  “Wake up, girl. Humanity is on the brink of extinction. We need every able-bodied female reproducing and replenishing our ranks. Even now, Amelia has the Coven working on an aging potion to help speed the growth process for children. The Densare needs more fighters if we are
to survive this war, and you want to bandy wits about why? Wake the fuck up.”

  “Screw that! If Mom were alive, you wouldn’t do this. And our numbers have made a comeback.” I did not care for his reasons. What about my choice? I could not get past the fact he’d sold me out to Cade. He cared nothing for me, other than what I could do to breed more Cantati.

  Fuck that.

  “First, you missed the report from General Rémy. If you had appeared in my office five minutes earlier, you would have heard that they lost more than seventeen hundred at the Versailles Compound this week alone. Second”—he stepped around his desk and approached me until we stood toe-to-toe—“if your mother were alive, she’d tie you to the bed to ensure you did your duty to your people. Report to your room, I’ll see that Cade meets you there once his mission has been completed, and do not emerge until you are with child. That’s an order, Alana.” For the first time in forever, he addressed me by name, instead of by rank. His stern features did not waiver and any hope I had held that there was some way out of my predicament sputtered and died.

  “Yes, sir,” I bit out as I saluted and quit his office. The threat of tears scorched the backs of my eyelids. Cold steel chains wrapped themselves about my wrists and shackled me to my fate.

  Goddess help me.

  Chapter Three

  I blasted through the Command Center as I left my father’s office and almost barreled into Declan, a giant of a man barely a sliver older than I. Yet my anger seethed and coiled like a living, breathing being. Declan averted his eyes, slipping to the right to avoid my wrath.

  “Sorry, sir.” He saluted.

  “Private.” I returned his salute and continued marching past the radar screens and blinking lights. Would I be barred from returning to this room? Everything I held most dear had been whisked from my grasp. My breathing was shallow as I attempted to contain my fury. I should be out there fighting, protecting the remaining survivors, especially when Versailles had lost seventeen hundred people last week.