Enforcer (Battle Born Book 11)

by Cyndi Friberg

  “How long have you been at Lunar Nine?” Alyssa asked as she strolled along at Kelsey’s side.

  “Two weeks.”

  “And before that?”

  His forehead wrinkled and he looked progressively more uncomfortable. “I’m not supposed to talk to you. It’s my job to ensure your safety and I can’t do that if I’m distracted.”

  “Can you sit down and have dinner with us?” Alyssa was pretty sure she knew the answer, but decided to ask anyway.

  “No ma’am. I’ll station myself at the best vantage point to watch for signs of danger.”

  “What are they so afraid is going to happen?” She looked at Kelsey rather than the soldier, not wanting to get him in trouble. “We’re going to a restaurant, not a strip club.”

  “The mess hall was basically a restaurant,” Kelsey pointed out. “That didn’t keep fights from breaking out.”

  “Those fights were Chelsea’s and Heather’s faults. The officers behaved perfectly until they were provoked.” She glanced at Trask and found him smiling. “It’s true. I think they both should have been sent back to Earth.”

  There were seven donut-shaped levels in the commerce tiers. The restaurants were scattered along the bottom three. An assortment of shops and offices made up the other tiers, and rebel headquarters had taken over the top floor.

  Kelsey looked up through the center and grinned. “Isn’t Dakar’s office up there? Shall we go get him?”

  Alyssa slapped her arm. “I am not running after him. What kind of message does that send?”

  “One that will drive his brother crazy,” Kelsey predicted.

  “That’s all I need. One Lux brother at a time is more than enough.”

  There was a long waiting list at every restaurant they passed, but the hostess at Vingarra told them to wait by the front desk while she spoke with her mate, the manager.

  “Did you see her eyes?” Alyssa asked behind her hand. “I’ve never seen anything like that.” Shades of blue and gray swirled within her gaze like wisps of smoke stirred by the wind.

  “She’s Ontarian,” Trask told her. “They all have eyes like that.”

  Ontariese was one of three planets in the star system from which the rebels originated. Other than strange and beautiful eyes, the hostess looked human, even ordinary. She returned a few minutes later with a tentative smile on her round face. “Hont agrees that it’s in our best interest to get you two in and out as soon as possible.”

  Kelsey looked at Alyssa then scowled at the hostess. “That’s insulting. We’re not going to start trouble. We just want a decent meal.”

  “I’m not worried about you.” She swept her arm toward the packed dining room. “Your guard is a little outnumbered.”

  “If anyone starts trouble of any kind, I promise we’ll leave,” Alyssa assured, annoyed that this was going to be an issue everywhere they went.

  The hostess apologized twice as she sat them in the far corner of the dining room. Trask positioned himself beside their table, his back to the wall. Alyssa looked around in wonder. Was every person on Rodymia good looking? The dining room looked like a cover model convention. No, make that a bodybuilder convention. Most of the soldiers were trying not to stare, but a few were openly watching them.

  “I’m starting to understand how celebrities feel,” Alyssa grumbled.

  “It will be better after tonight, at least for you.” Kelsey softened the reminder with a playful smile.

  “And what about you?” Alyssa challenged. “Are you going to let Jakkin mark you?”

  Kelsey’s eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into a disapproving line. “He’s on my shit list and he knows it. He better keep his distance or I’ll stop being polite.”

  Alyssa laughed. “Tell me more. What happened after I left the Fearless? How did he end up on your shit list?”

  Waving away the questions, Kelsey activated the electronic menu which was inset in the tabletop. “Perfect. It’s in Rodyte.”

  Kelsey’s evasiveness only made Alyssa more determined to find out what had transpired between her new friend and the handsome commander, but now was not the time. They both needed a break from the conflict surrounding them. They needed to shut out the curious faces of the battle born and pretend they were having a girls’ night out, no worries, no pressures.

  The illusion lasted half a second. Alyssa looked at the menu and shook her head. The language was unlike any on Earth and the menu was animated. Many of the images rotated or morphed from raw ingredients into artfully presented entrees. “Trask, could you please help us order? Neither of us reads Rodyte.”

  “Of course.” He moved away from the wall and pivoted so he could see the menu.

  A deafening boom rocked the room, slamming Alyssa into the table. Flatware and glasses went flying, propelled by the impact of the explosion. She cried out as the table edge bit into her ribs and abdomen. Trask immediately covered her, pulse pistol drawn as he analyzed the situation.

  Kelsey kicked her chair aside and stood beside the table holding a handgun with both hands. Alyssa had no idea where Kelsey had gotten the weapon. It must have been strapped to her leg. “Out! I don’t think this is over.”

  Without argument or hesitation, Trask guided-dragged Alyssa across the dining room. Kelsey followed, still brandishing the gun. Men were running and shouting, arguing about the best course of action.

  The second explosion, much larger than the first, tossed soldiers around like toys and smashed furniture into the walls. Trask and Kelsey both huddled around Alyssa, protecting her with their bodies. Despite her fear and confusion, Alyssa didn’t miss the suspicion in Trask’s dark gaze as he witnessed Kelsey’s behavior.

  “Who are you?” he snapped as smaller explosions shook the floor.

  Alyssa looked beyond his wide shoulders as Kelsey and Trask glared at each other. The entire tier had fallen to chaos. Merchants, even some soldiers, trampled each other in their haste to escape. Other soldiers were attempting to bring order to the pandemonium, but no one was listening to their shouted commands.

  Fire rapidly consumed the interior of Vingarra. After a long pause, Alyssa pushed her way free of her protectors and scanned the shambles left behind by the explosions. Had everyone gotten out? Tables were overturned and the wall separating the kitchen from the dining room had been completely destroyed. Flames licked at the exposed timbers and smashed furniture. Smoke billowed from the kitchen, which was now a conflagration of pitiless heat.

  Squinting through the smoke, Alyssa spotted a bare leg protruding from a pile of rubble. The foot was adorned in a navy-blue pump. Kelsey and she were the only females—the hostess!

  Acting on instinct alone, Alyssa rushed toward the trapped female.

  “Alyssa!”

  She ignored Kelsey’s cry and ran farther into the demolished restaurant. Blaring heat stung her exposed skin and smoke burned her eyes. Blinking repeatedly, she covered her mouth with her hand and pressed on. She reached the hostess and frantically threw pieces of debris off to one side. Trask and Kelsey arrived half a second behind her and quickly cleared the pile. Trask carefully lifted the fallen female into his arms, coughing spasmodically as they headed back out of the restaurant.

  Emergency responders had arrived, dragging thick hoses with hover tanks toward the fire. Men dressed in uniforms identical to Dakar’s directed the throng of stunned onlookers, urging most to leave the area, while hurrying the wounded toward the triage station cordoned off a short distance down the tier.

  “That was incredibly stupid,” Kelsey shouted over the building din.

  Ignoring the criticism, Alyssa looked at the limp hostess and tension knotted her belly. “Is she alive?”

  “Barely.” Trask looked at the hostess, compassion warming his dark eyes. “I think she’s still breathing.”

  Alyssa held her hand in front of the Ontarian’s face and was rewarded with the warmth of her shallow breathes. “She’s breathing, but she could have internal injuries. Th
at was a ton of debris.”

  Suddenly the hostess stirred, moaning in obvious pain. “Hont,” she whispered. “Where is Hont?” Her lids twitched but she was unable to open her eyes. Trask tried to soothe her with soft words, but she grew more agitated. “Did my mate escape the fire? He was in the kitchen.”

  Her panic sent pity cascading through Alyssa. She glanced at the fire blazing in the back of the restaurant and tears blurred her vision. “I’m not sure. People went running in every direction.” The poor thing would find out soon enough. It was highly unlikely that anyone escaped the kitchen.

  Trask looked around, clearly torn by whatever he was thinking. “I should take her to the Intrepid. The medics have their hands full already.” He nodded toward the triage station and the medical personnel rushing about as they stabilized the fallen.

  “Go,” Kelsey urged. “I’ll take Alyssa back to the village.”

  He nodded, but his expression remained tight and disapproving. “We will have a lengthy conversation about your behavior when I return.”

  Kelsey waved him off, dismissing his concern. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Happy to oblige, Alyssa turned toward the nearest staircase, but Dakar’s deep voice drew her back around.

  “Alyssa.” He weaved his way through the crowd, clearly concerned to find her in the middle of the crisis. “Are you hurt?” He reached her and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking her over with embarrassing thoroughness.

  “I’m fine. A little singed, but unharmed.”

  He looked at Kelsey without letting go of Alyssa. “And you?”

  “I’m not the one you need to worry about,” Kelsey muttered. “I don’t have a death wish.”

  Dakar’s expression sharpened. “What does that mean?”

  “Don’t.”

  Alyssa’s warning went unheeded as Kelsey said, “She ran back into the burning restaurant to save the manager’s wife.”

  “I’m fine,” Alyssa stressed, then glared at Kelsey.

  “Come with me.” Dakar took her by the upper arm and drew her toward the triage station. Halfway there he stopped and told one of his men to escort Kelsey back to village one. “I’ll bring Alyssa to you once things settle down and I’m sure she’s unharmed.”

  Kelsey’s only response was a stiff nod as the enforcer led her away.

  “This is completely unnecessary.” Alyssa tugged against his hold, but he wouldn’t let her go. “The medics are swamped. They don’t need to waste their time on me.”

  He ignored her protests and continued toward the triage area. “As soon as you’ve been cleared by a medic, I’ll allow you to assist them if you like. I can’t leave until the situation has stabilized.”

  “You’ll allow me to help?” She tugged even harder, but his grip remained firm. “You have no authority over me.”

  “At the moment, I have authority over everyone. Now stop arguing with me.” He introduced her to one of the medics and then was quickly called away.

  The medic was polite and professional, quickly confirming her claims that her injuries were minor. He was concerned about the bruising on her abdomen, however and encouraged her to have it scanned as soon as possible. She moved out of the triage area, unwilling to be more of a bother. But she wasn’t sure what to do. If she went to the Intrepid unescorted, she could be disqualified from the program. Besides, Dakar would be furious, and she really didn’t want to deal with an enraged Dakar.

  Moving slowly back toward what was left of the Vingarra, Alyssa looked for her potential mate. He stood in the middle of the action, issuing directives and making decisions. There was no hesitation in his manner, and yet he wasn’t nearly as autocratic as many of the soldiers she’d encountered. She saw compassion in his eyes, and even in the midst of pandemonium, he found reasons to smile.

  Her gaze shifted back to the restaurant and her hands clenched into fists. Who would do this? Why? She’d only interacted with a few of the merchants, but they all seemed to support the rebellion. This didn’t make sense.

  Then her shoulders tensed and an emotional weight dropped from her throat to the pit of her stomach. What about Solar Warden? Had her father ordered this attack? His determination to disrupt Lunar Nine bordered on obsession. She shook her head, refusing to consider the horrible possibility. Her father was harsh and inflexible, but he wasn’t a murderer.

  A hover-cart from the Intrepid arrived, so Alyssa returned to the triage area and helped unload the medical supplies. It wasn’t much, but at least she was helping. She passed out blankets and bottles of water, trying to stay out of the way of the medics while offering what comfort she could to the wounded.

  An hour passed and then another and her ribs began to ache. Each time she bent, stretched or twisted fire spread through her torso. She pressed her hand over the sorest spot and tried to take a deep breath. Her groan was so loud it drew the attention of the medic who’d examined her.

  “Have you been scanned?” His expression reflected frustration and concern.

  She shook her head, pressing her forearm over her abdomen. “I can’t go anywhere without an escort and everyone’s a little busy right now.”

  “I don’t have time to deal with this foolishness.” He took her by the upper arm and led her from the makeshift clinic at so brisk a pace she had to jog to keep up.

  Dakar stood to one side of the action speaking with Governor Raylon Lasenger. Alyssa had seen images of the fierce warrior turned politician, but this was the first time she’d seen him in person. The harsh angles of his features and the scar marring one side of his face made her shiver. If half of his reputation was deserved, Raylon was not a man to cross.

  Dakar spotted her first and smiled, then he noticed the scowling medic. “Is there a problem, Jifaa?”

  “Yes, sir. Your stubborn mate was told to report to the Intrepid hours ago, but she refuses to leave. She must be scanned immediately. She could have internal injuries.”

  She wasn’t Dakar’s mate, at least not yet. The thought made her cringe. She had to stop doing that. Dakar was not really courting her—no, that wasn’t right either. Dakar was courting her, but she was a fake, a pretender. A tease.

  Shame and frustration curled through her being. This was wrong. It was all so damn wrong.

  “Understood, and thank you.” Dakar took her hand and pulled her away from the medic, who immediately returned to his other patients.

  “I didn’t have an escort,” Alyssa pointed out, unsure of Dakar’s reaction. He didn’t look angry, but he was extremely good at hiding his emotions.

  “Go ahead and take her to the Intrepid,” Raylon said with a surprisingly mischievous smile. “Your men are doing an excellent job, and things are winding down here. I can supervise until this is over.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Dakar accepted the out. “Thank you.” He inclined his head toward the governor, then turned his attention on Alyssa. “Why didn’t you come get me?”

  “You were busy.” She motioned around them. “Everyone is busy, and I don’t hurt that badly.”

  “‘That badly’? A few hours ago you claimed not to hurt at all.” His anger was starting to show as he pulled her away from the disaster scene. He turned toward her and took her face between his hands. “Don’t you realize how important you are to me? Regardless of the situation, you are my number one concern.”

  The sincerity in his penetrating stare broke her heart. She wanted what he offered so badly, had craved that sort of devotion her entire life. She lowered her gaze to his throat and blinked back tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave without an escort.”

  He raised her chin until she looked into his eyes. “Maybe. But why did you run back into the restaurant? Do you care so little for yourself?”

  She gasped, shocked by his attitude. “I should have let her die?”

  “Of course not. You should have called to the pyro-team. They have protective equipment and experience. They know how to help others while minimizi
ng the danger to themselves.”

  “I get it.” His criticism was born of concern, so she wasn’t angered by it. Still, it made her feel like a careless child. “Message received. Can we move on now?”

  He nodded and they started walking again. They took the stairs to the lower level and headed for the spaceport.

  “This is not the night I had in mind for us,” he said after along, tense silence.

  She smiled briefly as they walked toward the outpost’s main entrance. The Intrepid was the hospital ship on which the transformation program was taking place. Alyssa had hoped to find a reason to visit it before she returned to Earth, but an actual injury hadn’t been her intention.

  Dakar placed his hand at the small of her back as they emerged onto the spaceport’s upper concourse. The long access ramps were stacked one on top of the other. The upper concourse was reserved for ships arriving at the outpost. The lower concourse was used by those departing. The Intrepid was the exception to the rule. The ship could be accessed from either concourse, because it never left Lunar Nine.

  “You look pale,” he said as they approached the hospital ship. “Answer honestly. Are you in pain?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I hit the table a lot harder than I realized.”

  “You’re also coming down off an adrenaline high.” His hand slid up to the middle of her back then back down, the caress almost automatic.

  She looked up at him, feeling the heat of his hand even though his touch was light. Every time she was near him all she could think about was sex, hot, sweaty, last-all-night sex. She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. She wanted more than sex from Dakar. She wanted her happily ever after.

  “Do Rodytes have adrenal glands?” She didn’t really care about the answer. She just needed something to distract her from his touch.

  “We have something similar. In fact, many soldiers inject a synthesized version of the compound before going into battle.”

  That caught her interest. “Have you ever gone into battle or have you always enforced codes?”