Invasion Earth

by Loribelle Hunt

  “Your name was on the revised hostage list they just sent over. Need to get a move on. Transport is due any minute now.”

  He was someone Laney only knew in passing, since they’d never been in the same command, but she saw something flare in his eyes. Something that looked suspiciously like knowledge. She narrowed her eyes. He knew more than he was saying. He turned on his heel and left before she could question him further and she forced her mind to move on, shutting the door behind him.

  The analytical part of her took control while she made a quick and thorough search through her locker drawers, sending items flying through the air to land on the bed.

  The Delroi had insisted on an exchange of hostages for the duration of the talks. An effort to keep everyone honest, no doubt. She’d even approved of the move before she’d been added to the select group. They’d been allowed to pick their own hostages and she wondered briefly who she was replacing. She pressed her lips together and dug out her duffle. None of that mattered now.

  Hostages might be too harsh a word, but it worked. Three Delroi military leaders would stay planet-side and three Earth soldiers would stay on board. The rest of her people would be ferried back and forth every day to the Delroi ship, where the talks would take place. She had planned on being one of them.

  She unzipped the bag and quickly stuffed it with necessities, making a mental list of things she needed to pass on to her lieutenants. But the other part of her mind stood back and huffed in irritated exasperation.

  This evening’s conference had been intended has a meet-and-greet in addition to settling in the guests, as the Delroi insisted on calling them. The blond enemy general’s image rose in her mind. She’d already met the three Delroi being exchanged with Earth and he wasn’t one of them. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing his image out of her mind. Distance hadn’t made him less appealing, hadn’t made her want him less. The last thing she needed was to spend her nights onboard their ship. How was she going to resist the urge to find him and rip his clothes off? Panic began to set in and she shrieked silently.

  Really, was that necessary?

  Yes! Why the hell do they want me there?

  Great. Now she wasn’t just talking to herself, she was arguing with herself. Rolling her eyes, Laney locked the door on her way out and grasped for a sense of calm. She could handle this the same way she handled everything else. Calmly. Efficiently. Emotionlessly. Even if she had to stomp on certain feelings and cram them into a box deep in the recesses of her mind. She’d done it before. She’d just have to do it again.

  She met her aide outside and quickly filled him in during the jog to the airstrip where one ship had landed and another was coming in.

  It was an easy one-mile run and she arrived to see the waiting generals and dignitaries queuing up. She hung back, watching the second ship land next to the first. The door slid open and a ramp lowered. A hatch on the underside of the transport opened and a ground crew began tossing in the bags of the other hostages. She kept her duffle slung over her arm.

  “Sergeant Major?”

  Laney looked over her shoulder to see three of the enemy warriors behind her. She arched an eyebrow.

  “Yes?”

  “Come with us, please. The General would like a private word with you.”

  She turned back to see the boarding completed and the transport lifting into the air. Record time. I couldn’t get something done that fast if I stood over people cracking a whip and threatening a court martial.

  The second transport loomed silently nearby, suspiciously inactive while she considered her options. The shortest of her “escort” was pushing six-foot-two. She cursed her lack of a weapon and noted theirs. No chance in a fight and probably no opportunity to run.

  There could only be one reason to single her out. They called her the Butcher of Roses. Roses for the name of the town the Delroi had originally headquarted in. Butcher because there were so many civilians there. How was she to know they brought non-combatants to war with them? She would have snorted if she hadn’t felt her audience’s hard gazes on her back. So she won one battle. Well, a few actually. It was a war after all. The point was to win. When the Alliance agreed to this surrender, the Delroi promised no retribution. The ship’s ramp lowered and she sighed, resigned.

  “Let’s go, Sergeant Major,” the speaker said. He was tall, broad-shouldered and-chested, with short-shorn black hair. His eyes were not unkind, but his hard tone made it clear they weren’t taking no for an answer. She was a little surprised no one grabbed her arm to lead her to the shuttle.

  She followed him and the other two hulking warriors brought up the rear. With luck and cunning, she could find a way out of whatever ambush they had planned. She hadn’t reached her current position by being stupid. She experienced a rush of excitement. It had been a long time since she’d had a good challenge.

  She walked up the ship’s ramp and looked around curiously. The Alliance had captured some of these ships before but she was always too busy to check one out. It was like the inside of a small, stripped-down jet. Instead of plush rows of seats, bench seats lined the interior walls. A curtain partition blocked off the cockpit.

  “Welcome aboard, Sergeant Major.”

  How had she ever thought that voice gravely? It was rich and smooth, like her favorite French Vanilla cappuccino. It flowed over her and worked its way into all her secret places. Bitter realization made her heart skitter to a stop. Impossible! It was bad enough to be in the enemy’s hands, but she would not let the mere sound of his voice arouse her.

  Slowly she turned, taking careful note of the position of the cabin’s occupants. He held her gaze with steely grey eyes. Her skin flushed as she got her first close up look at him, heat rushing down her chest where her nipples had begun to throb painfully. She struggled to control her reaction, control her breathing. She did it by forcing herself to break the gaze, to look around and take stock, to look for an escape route.

  Behind her stood a pilot in the cockpit and before her the golden-haired warrior. He leaned casually against the back wall, and she watched with dismay as the ramp rose and the doors slid closed. She was cornered. Trapped. Reaching for a center of calm she wasn’t sure she felt, she nodded in greeting. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

  “Yes.” He grinned. “I do.”

  She narrowed her eyes, irritation and curiosity warring with lust. Somehow, she realized with shock, it all just combined to more lust. Her hard-earned control slipped away. Oddly, she wasn’t afraid of him. He looked too much like a golden-haired god to fear. She had the absurd urge to rub her body up against him like a cat in heat. God, Laney. Get a grip! Silence stretched as she tried to manage her response, to slow the pulse pounding in her neck and to will the dampness between her legs away. Damn the smug bastard. He knew the affect of his nearness. He smirked at her not four feet away.

  “I know who you are. Sergeant Major Laney Bradford.” He dragged out her rank and name, as if savoring the taste of it on his lips. “The Butcher of Roses. I was beginning to think I would never get my hands on you.”

  She stiffened. “We were assured if we entered into talks with you there would be no retribution against individual officers.”

  “But you aren’t an officer are you?”

  She glared and wondered how much he knew of their rank structures. There were basically two tiers—officer and enlisted. Officers bought their commissions, entering as lieutenants whereas an enlisted soldier just signed on the dotted line. Since they didn’t buy in, they found themselves starting out on the very bottom rung of the hierarchy. As her division’s Sergeant Major she was currently the highest ranking enlisted soldier in the Alliance army, a well respected and coveted position. She now had more power than most officers, all except the most senior generals. Pride fueled her aggravated response. “The spirit of that agreement clearly included anyone involved with planning and executing orders in the war. Not just officers.”

  He n
odded, straightening from his casual pose. “It did, of course. But I could hardly pass up the opportunity to meet the only strategist who fought against us and won.”

  He looked past her shoulder. “The seers were correct,” he said.

  What the hell? Who were the seers?

  “Yes, and the Gods have a sense of humor,” an amused voice drawled behind her. “I don’t envy you, brother.”

  She turned and bit the inside of her lip to hide her response. Brother, huh? These two had won the genetics lottery—the brother was actually an improvement over the Adonis’s golden looks. He stood arrogantly tall and straight, dark and handsome. Commanding. Regal. Confused, she looked him up and down. He looked good, great in fact, she appreciated the package, but he left her cold. He didn’t wake up every nerve ending in her body the way his brother did.

  “We’re ready to take off,” the blond continued. “So if you would take a seat.”

  He looked pointedly at the bench seat on the wall to her right. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. The sooner she got to the ship topside, the sooner she could get back to her own people and away from the man who, without even trying, turned her inside out. She dropped the bag by her feet and reached for the lap belt.

  “Let me,” he said, pushing her hands away. “We wouldn’t want you unsecured, would we?”

  He finished with that sexy grin. Its effect on her should be illegal. Or maybe it was the stressed unsecured that made her belly flip flop. Either way it was bad for her and she knew it. The way a pound of dark chocolate was. Tasty and rich, but it would go straight to her hips. She felt a blush heat her face. Okay. Maybe not the best allusion.

  Her just-calmed nerves came screaming back to life. His hands were big, easily twice the size of hers, and she wondered if the rest of him was as big. Just in time, she clenched her fists to keep from grabbing him, but he noticed; grinning, he took the seat beside her.

  She looked up and met his gaze. “Who are you?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  He smiled into her eyes, and to her shame, she momentarily forgot he was the enemy. Who cared who he was? She wanted him and she meant to have him. Soon. Very soon, if her dampening pussy had any say in the matter.

  “I’m General Alrik Torfa. That’s my brother, Daggar.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Another general?”

  “No.” He laughed. “He’s the Overchief of the warrior caste.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked with skepticism, her ardor cooling with the shocking statement. “You have a caste system?”

  There hadn’t been an organized caste system on Earth in centuries. It was barbaric and autocratic. The man was sexy as hell but she was beginning to have major doubts about his culture.

  “Three castes,” he answered, ticking them off on his fingers. “Artist, Healer, and Warrior. The Overchiefs of each form our ruling council.”

  Her regal description wasn’t so far off. She listened with interest as he went on to describe his culture. It sounded archaic to her. She had to grit her teeth against a scathing reply when she learned that women were not allowed to fight on Delroi, but somehow managed to sit calmly to hear more. They lived in family groups, not so different from the people of Earth, except there was no divorce on Delroi. She kept her skepticism on that to herself. Alrik and Daggar were royalty. As the elder son, Daggar had inherited the title of Overchief from his father. She went cold when Alrik told her that their sons left home to live in common barracks to begin warrior training at twelve. She had friends who would never stand for it, letting their sons leave home at such a young age, but apparently the women of Delroi got no say in that. It was a true warrior society, with men placed firmly at the top.

  It wasn’t a lot of information, but it was more than they’d had before. Her spies had found very little on what these people were like on their own world. It was enough to find a way to fight them here, and even if the war proved to be over you could never have too much information. But she was uneasy with what she learned, unable to see a way to use it to the Alliance’s advantage.

  Alrik caught Dagger’s approving nod over her head. They were both reluctantly impressed with the woman. A steady and measured soldier, she would make a fine addition to any warrior’s bed. It was her composure and reputation that gave them pause. Though surrounded by enemies, she was still gathering intelligence, a trait that made her even more appealing to a son of the ruling family. Her notoriety was less desirable. He wasn’t sure how he felt about his woman being known as the Butcher of his people or how he’d deal with his own anger over Roses. Not that it mattered. She was his mate and he would claim her. The fact that she was extraordinary in many ways was a bonus. Her infamy might be turned to their advantage.

  On their own planet, for reasons the scientists couldn’t explain, women were being born in much lower numbers, and they dwindled every year. In the last year, a mere twenty percent of the babes born on his home world were female. The seers had offered some hope though, directing them to this small blue planet to find their mates. Decades of war, famine, and plagues had decimated the male population. It was a perfect solution for both their worlds, but the people had proven surprisingly willing to fight. Aided in no small part by the brilliant strategist sitting beside him, he acknowledged with pride.

  She would have to give up the art of war, of course. The women on his world didn’t participate in such activities and as his mate she certainly wouldn’t need to work. He grinned. He suspected there would be many interesting fights over that. The women of Earth, he’d found, were an independent lot. He and his brother hoped she would help forge the way in a sort of ambassadorial position, but for now he would keep that to himself.

  He felt the small craft’s engines slow to dock with his brother’s ship. They had set aside rooms for the Earth guests—the hostages who would stay onboard while the talks went on—but she wouldn’t be in hers long. His plans should be well underway by now. He’d give her a few hours, let her relax into a false sense of security, before he moved her to where she really belonged. In his rooms, in his bed. At his side.

  But his plans could wait a short while. He could be patient. Several minutes later, instead of escorting her to his rooms, he led her to one of the guest cabins. He pointed out the common room down the corridor where the evening reception would be held and watched her disappear. He hated to leave her, but rejoiced in knowing that tomorrow night he would have her right where he wanted her.

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  Chapter Three

  Laney dropped her bag on the bed and went in search of the common room. As she expected, the room was packed and the din was loud with many voices. It was a large space. She noticed a curved bar and tall restaurant-like coolers along the inside wall. Opposite it was a huge window, but she only spared a glance for the layout of the room or space beyond the glass.

  The occupants were a mix of Delroi and Earth soldiers and the two groups were carefully circling each other. She looked around, half dreading and half wanting to see Alrik, but he wasn’t there. Several of his men were, though, and she noticed them speak to their fellows, felt the heavy gaze of their regard. It was disconcerting to be the recipient of such close scrutiny. An unaccustomed and unwelcomed feeling for her.

  She forced her gaze to flit by them and straightened her spine, pushing her way through the crowded space and looking for her old friend and boss, General Darren. She finally located him at the bar.

  “Hand me one of those, Bob.” She pointed to the beer on ice in a big barrel at his side.

  “Laney! What happened to you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she scowled. “I caught the second transport. Why? No one told you?”

  His expression hooded and he nodded at someone behind her. She turned to see the Prime Minister and his Chief of Staff, General Scott, approach.

  “Prime Minister. Sir,” she greeted them.

  The other two hostages, or guests, whatever you wanted
to call them, hovered close by and she frowned. She didn’t really know General Black, but she knew Colonel Eldridge all too well. They’d butted heads more than once, most recently over whether it was worth it or not to refuse peace talks and let the Delroi do their worst with the Doomsayer. It wouldn’t matter after tonight, since the enemy was scheduled to hand it over to Earth forces at midnight. Laney’s objections had more to do with honor than anything else; they’d agreed to these peace talks. She’d be damned before she didn’t give them a shot. But Eldridge met her bold stare with one of amusement and gut instinct told her there was more than the normal number of secrets circulating through the gathering tonight.

  “Well, what do you think, Sergeant Major?” the Prime Minister asked.

  Eldridge smiled at her. The smile she only saw when he managed to one up her. A hush fell over the crowd. It was obvious she had missed something important. She raised both eyebrows.

  “About what, sir?”

  He blinked in surprise. “No one told you?” Bob shook his head beside her.

  “Told me what?”

  “They have a very simple offer for us,” he said with a grimace. “Peace and trade in exchange for a marriage between our worlds.”

  “Marriage?” she asked, not quite believing her ears. “Like a real marriage? Between one of them and one of us?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s insane. We haven’t done that kind of thing in centuries and there aren’t any ruling families anymore. How would we pick the victim? I mean bride,” she added letting an uncharacteristic edge of sarcasm color her tone.

  “Oh, they already have one in mind, Sergeant Major,” the Prime Minister answered.

  The silence grew and she looked around suspiciously. “Who?”

  “You of course,” he said. “They expect you to marry one of their generals.”

  “Which one?” she whispered, certain she already knew and struggling for control.

  “His name is Torfa. He’s apparently the brother of some kind of king,” he answered quietly.