The glint in Father’s eyes was the only sign that betrayed his rage. “You will do no such thing.”
“Phillip, you can’t be serious!”
“I said no!” Father’s roar startled Donovan, who cowered. “I will not hear another word of this. Are we clear?” When Donovan stayed silent, Father grabbed a fistful of his perfect hair. “Are we clear?”
Donovan’s volume was a shade of itself. “Yes, sir.”
Father seemed satisfied with the response. He relaxed the hand in Donovan’s hair and caressed his cheek. “This is not to say he won’t be dealt with.”
Hadrian could see and feel Donovan’s murderous glare. Father had never made him submit publicly before, and now Hadrian of all people had witnessed the scene. He could taste the shame and hear Donovan’s furious plotting. He would never be safe in his brother’s presence again.
Hadrian allowed his head to loll so he could look around the room. It was pitch-black outside the wall-sized window. That meant it was probably still the same evening. It was only the three of them. No guards. Did they not want observers? Did that mean no one was watching from the security station? The knife from his suicide attempt was under the bed. It might as well have been several kilometers away, he was so weak.
Even if he could reach the knife, he doubted he could defend himself. His body had betrayed him, fragile and helpless.
Father clutched Hadrian’s jaw and jerked him back to face him. He crouched over Hadrian while Donovan crept forward. The man was a master at stoic grace, but waves of disdain emanated from him. Father appeared calm but was far from it.
He gave Hadrian’s head a shake. “Look at me. You were perfect. The pride of the social scene. My champion.” His teeth ground softly. “Now, you’re worthless.”
His hand tightened on Hadrian’s jaw. “You never openly disobeyed me before you ran away. Now you have made me a laughingstock. Again.” Father shoved Hadrian’s face away. “You used to obey me without question.”
Rising to his feet, he looked down in contempt. “And you will again.”
Walking back to the small table, he poured a second drink and handed it to Donovan. As he took a long sip from his own and admired the flavor, he stroked the glass. Ignoring Hadrian for the moment, he turned his attention to the amber liquid. The moment was far too short.
“You behaved perfectly until you escaped.”
Donovan added fuel to Father’s fire. “I still don’t believe he did all of this without help. He can barely use the most basic tech around here.”
Father took a sip. “You’re probably right. I’d be willing to bet Leo had you kill him to keep him from revealing everything. It’s too bad. If he were still alive, I’d make him suffer forever for his hand in this.”
Hadrian refrained from commenting. Staying silent was a better option than risk antagonizing them. He wasn’t sure how many more pain commands he could survive. It had happened so many times this evening, he was a pale imitation of himself. Better to say nothing and assess the danger he was in. Which, as far as he could tell, was immense.
“You were the greatest Adonirati. I took great pride in presenting you to dignitaries and leaders of industry, knowing they would never own one as unique as you. Now you’re drooling into the carpet because you can’t follow a simple order.” Father sipped his drink. “You’ve changed, Ronan—”
“My name is Hadrian.”
Father pointed at Hadrian with the drink in his hand. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You were never that willful until you spent those weeks on board the Santa Claus.” Father went silent as his features brightened with an epiphany. He downed his drink and strode back over to Hadrian. He got down on one knee and leaned forward.
“I should leave you to Donovan’s tender mercies. You might last the night in his care. But I have a better idea.” A cruel shade of glee came over Father. “Since the crew of the Santa Claus broke you, they will be responsible for fixing you.”
Fear crept into Hadrian at the malevolence he felt beneath Father’s visage. Donovan’s dark smile broadened, privy to some private joke between them, as he knelt, taking his place at Father’s side. Hadrian looked behind them at the twin doors, wishing someone would come in, but he couldn’t sense any presence in the hallway.
Father stirred a new chill over Hadrian’s skin. “You will be yourself again, Ronan, or I will have Master Sergeant Braxus commandeer that vessel and arrest every member of the crew for aiding and abetting a fugitive. I will have him destroy the ship and bring every one of those degenerate reprobates back to Luxoria for the rest of their lives.
“I will have them punished, one at a time, until they beg me to put them out of their misery. I will make you watch as I personally execute each one, and then move on to the next. There are some thirty-odd members of the crew? That could take a while to get through. I hope you have the stomach for it.
“I will not tolerate insubordination in my house. Your compliance may be the only thing that saves them all. Every single man on that ship is guilty, from the lowliest deckhand to that poor fool sergeant you wrapped around your finger. Granted, I may do it all for my entertainment, regardless.
“Remember, Ronan, if I follow through, it will all be your fault.”
Hadrian felt sick. There was no option anymore. No matter how well Hadrian behaved, Father had every intention of assaulting the Santa Claus to make an example out of them all. The thought shined so intense, he couldn’t block it out.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Phillip.” The antagonizing click of Donovan’s tongue piercing inflated the dread flooding Hadrian. He marshaled his strength for what was coming next. Father turned to Donovan. Smiling, Father reached up to graze Donovan’s cheek with the backs of his fingers.
Hadrian’s words were listless. “I am afraid you are right,” he whispered. Both men paused, staring at him in confusion.
Father squinted. “Ronan, who are you talking to?”
“It has to be now. I am ready.”
The bullet pierced the window, burrowing through Father’s skull. Blood exploded in all directions as his body slumped to the expensive carpet. Donovan shrieked and snapped his attention to Hadrian on the ground. Using all his strength, Hadrian lurched forward.
“GUI CHO T—” Donovan’s shout was cut short. His eyes bulged as Hadrian gripped his piercing in his right hand, using the barbell to pull his tongue into the air. Grasping at Hadrian’s arm, he slapped at it, screaming incoherent utterances while trying to free himself. Grotesque inside and out. Hadrian’s hand was weak, but he held firm. Dragging Donovan close, Hadrian spat a seething omen.
“You and Father will never torture me again. Goodbye…brother.”
Hadrian extended his arm, pushing Donovan’s head as far away as possible, refusing to allow him to speak. He had no intention of ever hearing the command to inflict pain, paralysis, or anything else again.
“Do it now, Liam!”
Donovan’s head burst in a shower of crimson as another bullet came through the window. Hadrian pushed the body away, and it fell to the floor. Exhausted beyond compare, Hadrian collapsed.
Gasping in exhaustion, Hadrian knew time was short. “Hurry, Liam. I can hear them. They’re coming.”
LIAM SET DOWN his rifle where he stood in the open hatch of Hadrian’s Hope, hovering mere meters away from the building. Snatching up the preloaded rotary cannon, he threw the carry strap over his shoulder. He palmed the support grips and released the safety with his thumb, his finger ready to squeeze the trigger.
“Hadrian, stay down!”
Orange fire leapt from the barrel as the spinning chamber fed the weapon, and Liam held tight to control the recoil. A deafening hail of bullets ate the window until it had the consistency of lace. It took little time to exhaust the ammunition, but even as damaged as it was, the plexiglass-hybrid wall refused to come down.
Howling in disgust, Liam threw down the gun and scrambled to the pilot’s chair. Wi
th hurried hands, he tapped the control panel and the ship tipped, sliding sideways toward the building. Hadrian’s Hope burst through the tattered window, sending chunks of glass in all directions. Another quick press of the controls, and the ship hovered half in and half out of the skyscraper. Liam leapt from his seat and raced into the building. Liam wore a full military jumpsuit, and his heavy boots crunched over the sea of broken window that was once a lush carpet. Weapons confiscated from the raiders hung from multiple holsters and utility belts strapped to his waist and hips.
He rushed to Hadrian’s side where he lay sprawled on the floor, limp. This wasn’t the moment to feel guilty for not arriving faster. He’d lost a great deal of time getting out of the amphitheater and throwing his gear together. Blood spray marred Hadrian’s features, but he couldn’t find any open wounds. It had to be the remnants of Chien and Donovan. Hadrian appeared otherwise undamaged.
“Hadrian, can you walk?” He knew the timer was counting down. In a house like this, that level of noise would be investigated immediately.
Hadrian’s head dipped. A weak nod. “I will try.”
Liam was reaching down to help him when Hadrian froze and grabbed his arm. He stared at nothing as he gasped.
Alarm edged Hadrian’s voice. “The house guards are coming. From both doors. Now.”
From his hip holsters, Liam pulled a machine pistol with each hand as both doors to the hallway slid open. He fired at both entrances where large men in civilian clothing tried to rush the room. The guards were armed but unprepared for the controlled bursts of gunfire that shredded them in the doorways. They fell in graceless positions, leaving the entrances blocked open.
“More are coming. They are ex-military.” Hadrian struggled to get upright.
Holding steady to provide support, Liam kept his weapons trained on the twin doors. “We have to hurry. There’s no cover here.”
Seeing movement at the right door, he fired a warning shot. He breathed hard and kept a tight focus on the doorways. Hadrian needed to hurry. Liam didn’t think he could carry him and protect them at the same time.
A man swung into the doorway with his weapon drawn. Liam fired without remorse, removing the threat. Or was he the distraction?
Liam barely saw the particle weapon flare from the left door as Hadrian leapt up in front of him. Hadrian’s eyes went wide in shock as the beam flash-burned his left arm off halfway between his elbow and shoulder. The severed limb landed on the floor with a thud. Liam whirled and put an indecent number of bullets into the gunman while managing to catch Hadrian before he fell to the ground.
It was like being at war all over again. The stench of bodies and gunfire singed his nostrils. Luxuries like panic couldn’t be afforded. Completing the mission was all that mattered. Liam grabbed two small cylinders from the strap across his chest. Flipping the tops, he pressed buttons on each. A quick flip of the wrist sent them bouncing into the hallway through both of the open doors. Dropping Hadrian to the ground, Liam covered him with his body.
Twin explosions rocked the hallway as debris and screams rained down.
Liam crawled to his feet as clouds of smoke and dust billowed into the room. Hadrian wasn’t moving, and he couldn’t waste any more precious seconds. He had to risk it. He rolled Hadrian until he could pick up his rag-doll body and position it over his shoulder. The weight was more difficult to manage than he expected. Reaching into his belt, he armed two larger grenades. He threw them into the room and hallway, then struggled to carry Hadrian to the ship. He slammed the controls, and the hatch had barely begun to close when the ship lurched out of its window perch from the explosion. Bright flames surrounded the ship, licking at the sealing door, throwing Liam and Hadrian into the opposite wall. Liam quickly untangled himself and clambered to the pilot’s chair. A few deft taps to the panel had the ship banking and lifting into the night sky. The side viewport gave Liam a glance at plumes of flame washing through that floor of the building, spilling out the window and up into the sky.
“Hang on, Hadrian. We’re getting out of here.” He hoped Hadrian could hear him. Liam checked the ship’s cloak was intact and then punched the engine to escape the planet. The internal dampeners were working as well as could be expected, but the launch was rough. As soon as he cleared Luxoria’s outer atmosphere, Liam activated the return path to the Santa Claus and engaged the faster-than-light drive.
The stars ahead blurred as he turned on the autopilot and charged back to Hadrian. Now that the gunfire was over, real panic set in. Had they gone through all this for nothing? Staring at the burned stump, Liam fought the urge to retch. Hadrian needed him now.
“Hadrian, can you hear me?”
No response.
Leaning closer, he sighed in relief when he found a pulse along Hadrian’s neck and felt the faint breath from his mouth and nose.
He jumped up and pulled a couple of blankets from one of the storage compartments. Once he used them to sweep the debris from the area, he laid out more comfortable bedding. From behind another panel, he extracted the medkit.
He opened the kit and pulled out the handheld scanner. It was old but functional. He passed it over Hadrian, looking for any internal injuries or other damage. Finding none, Liam pulled a combat knife from the sheath at his shoulder, cut loose the foul sarong and the leather manacles, and tossed them aside.
“You will never wear those again.”
Hadrian might not have been able to hear him, but Liam swore to keep the vow.
Liam shifted Hadrian to the blankets and continued. Scanning over the amputation, he steeled himself for the readout. The skin was charred at the end, but there was no blood loss. The phaser beam had cauterized the wound. The device flashed its first-aid instructions, and Liam reached in and unwrapped a hyperclean pad. It absorbed the sweat and grime, sterilizing the skin as he swiped it over the surface of Hadrian’s arm.
Double-checking the triage list, he wrapped a mesh bandage of fiber-optic filaments over the stump, using the attached tech ring to fasten it around Hadrian’s upper arm. A few quick touches to the ring’s controls and the bandage activated, allowing air but no contaminants through its miniature field.
After checking the instructions again, he attached another device to Hadrian’s shoulder, much like the ones he’d woke up wearing in sick bay after the raider attack. They were easier to use than he’d expected. Activating with a hum, fluids and pain meds began synthesizing to be transdermally fed to his patient. Once that was in motion, he went through three more hyperclean pads as he cleaned every millimeter of Hadrian’s flesh.
According to the scanner, Hadrian was stable, so he covered him with another blanket, and turned the atmospherics up a notch to keep him as comfortable as possible. Then Liam lay down next to him to witness the rise and fall of Hadrian’s chest. He needed proof they’d survived.
Desperate for his touch, he curled forward until his forehead brushed Hadrian’s bare shoulder. Only then did he allow himself to feel the full weight of what had happened. They had done it. But at what cost? Tears broke free as he lay next to his unconscious partner.
“Please wake up, Hadrian. I need you.” The adrenaline high wearing thin, Liam cried himself to sleep on the hard deck of the ship.
DR. SAARKEN STOOD numb as the emergency newsfeed played. They had hurried back after the match. Hadrian’s defiance would make everything go so wrong. He hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye and been far too alarmed to consider sleep once Sergeant Jacks flew out of his home, not that Liam didn’t have good cause. But Saarken had been starting to enjoy Sergeant Jacks’s company.
Now he stared blankly at the vidscreen as fire suppressors struggled to put out the blaze belching from what used to be Hadrian’s suite.
Terrorists have attacked the home of Ambassador Phillip Chien. Explosions and gunfire were reported this evening before what seem to be multiple incendiary devices ripped through the floor, burning everything in sight. Suppression units are having diffic
ulty controlling the fire, as it appears to have been started with a device that fuels it, keeping it burning longer than usual.
While it will take time to get an accurate casualty count due to the intensity of the flames, at least sixteen people are missing and presumed dead, including the ambassador and his consort as well as guards, staff, and the ambassador’s Adonirati, Ronan, who’d just won the title fighting bout earlier this evening at the Grande Hall Amphitheater.
Terrorists are being blamed due to a security vid from an adjacent building that captured the explosion and revealed the shape of a small, cloaked ship before it jumped skyward without a trace. At this time, no one has claimed responsibility.
Saarken turned off the screen. He couldn’t watch anymore.
The escaping ship proved Liam had been successful in liberating Hadrian. If Hadrian had died, Liam would no doubt have killed himself in the hell he brought down on Phillip and the others. Saarken admired Liam’s devotion. Now the pair were on their way to a happily ever after. A lovely thought. Some people deserve such things.
They had all been successful, hadn’t they? After so many years, Saarken had his revenge over Phillip. Phillip would no longer hold him in his thrall. He could hurt no one any longer. Saarken told himself he should celebrate.
Phillip was dead.
His legs struggled to hold his weight as the first tear ran down his cheek. His arms shook and the crutches threatened to give way. Zero and Orez, ever the dutiful servants, swept him up and cradled him between them as his sobs unhinged him.
He pleaded through painful gasps into one of his companions’ chest. “Please, take me to bed.”
The twin giants stroked, nuzzled, and kissed him as they walked down the hallway to the master bedroom. Zero turned down the oversized bed while Orez undressed the grieving Saarken with careful fingers. After disrobing themselves, they lay him between their hulking forms, protecting him as he exhausted himself. He knew they could stay there for him as long as he needed and never break his heart.
The Luxorian Fugitive Page 22
