The Captain's Secret Daughter: In the Stars Romance (Gypsy Moth Book 3)

by Eve Langlais

  “They are deep in the forest. I’ve sent Captain Jameson a communication advising him of the citadel. He is returning.”

  “No, he shouldn’t. Tell him to hunker down with Karo. Hide their heat signatures.” The citadel would scan from space but wouldn’t see much. She knew this because when she tried to scan with Raffie, she saw spots that appeared biological in nature. But weren’t. The planet provided camouflage better than sitting inside a ship. “How long until they’re here?”

  “Hours.”

  “Hours? That’s not long. Are we even sure they’re coming for us, or is it just a coincidence?”

  “Are you asking me to speculate?” There it was, that hint of disdain. Almost as if the computer had a sense of… What? Humor? Humanity?

  Impossible. AI units were banned centuries ago. Too dangerous. So dangerous, the history annals didn’t speak of what had happened.

  But did that ban cover the citadels? Especially one lost for centuries?

  On a whim, she said, “Do you think perhaps they’re looking for you?”

  Silence.

  “Raffie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you going to reply?”

  “Reply to what?” A hint of impatience.

  “I asked if maybe you thought the citadel might be looking for you.”

  “No.”

  “What if they are, though? What if they’re after the bodies in those pods?”

  Definite hint of impatience. “They are nobodies.”

  “I don’t believe it. Tell me who they are.” This wasn’t the first time she demanded, but this was the first time he replied himself, rather than using that fake computer voice and excuse.

  “I’m sorry, but those records appear to be corrupted.”

  “I think you’re lying.”

  “That is impossible, as it would imply I have intent.”

  Funny, but the more she spoke to the ship, the more she wondered. “Who are those people, Raffie? I think you know and you’re hiding it.” Yes, she attributed a human character to a computer. There was something odd about Raffie.

  The query emerged lower than usual, and sinuously twisted around her. “Do you really want to know the truth, Isa’dara Aba’ddon.” He said her name. Her full, real name, which only she and her teacher, Annie, knew.

  She froze. “How did you know that?”

  “Because I know everything there is to know about you. I told you, it’s about the genes. I’ve followed your family a long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Ever since those of the blood were stolen from me!”

  Stolen? It didn’t take much for her to make the leap of logic. “I’m related to the people in the pods.”

  “Very much so.”

  The reply surprised her. “I thought your files were corrupted and you couldn’t tell me who they were.”

  “I think it’s past time we stopped playing games.”

  Wait, the ship had been toying with her all this time? It was one thing to suspect, another for it to confirm. “Why are you only telling me this now?”

  “Because now it is pertinent.”

  Which sounded ominous. “Would you stop being cryptic? You are being stranger than usual, Raffie, and I want to know why. Does this have to do with the citadel?”

  “It has everything to do with it. They just won’t stop. I thought they would eventually tire of it.”

  “Who would? The Rhomanii?”

  “Yes, the Rhomanii and those religious fools they follow. They were merely supposed to be caretakers for a world designed entirely for the Rhomanii and ruled by the chosen one with the purest blood. Instead they spent eons roaming, and then, when we finally found our home, there was corruption.”

  “You’re talking about Mikhail, the brother, betraying and killing the king.”

  “Mikhail didn’t kill the king.” No mistaking the scoffing sound. “Mikhail liberated him from a fate worse than death. The corruption had infected the chosen one. But the king didn’t die despite the dagger in his heart.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He transcended.”

  “Into what?”

  Raffie didn’t reply. But she had a feeling she knew.

  “Are you the gypsy king?”

  “A king needs a throne. I am merely a ship.”

  Which didn’t really answer the question. “What do you want?”

  “I want what belongs to me. But once again, thieves are trying to take it away.”

  Did he imply the Rhomanii were the ones to kidnap her ancestors? That made no sense. But she didn’t have time to wonder about the past. “How far is the citadel?” she asked.

  “A little less far than before.” A definitely mocking reply and a chill went through her.

  “I want to open a channel with them. Offer a trade.”

  “A trade of what? You arrived here with nothing.”

  “But found a treasure. The Rhomanii want us because of our blood, and you said it yourself, we’re related to the people in those pods. If my genes are considered good, then imagine what theirs would be worth.” Given their well-preserved condition, they should buy safety for her and Karo. She could put an end to the hunt.

  “Alas, what you see is but a façade. Their genetic coding has long since faded.”

  “Genes don’t fade.”

  “You’re right, they get absorbed. And the fresher the better.” Raffie’s voice dropped ominously. “Would you do anything to protect the child?”

  A chill went through her. “Of course.”

  “Then there is something you can do.”

  “Do? I thought maybe we’d try and hide and hope they passed over.”

  “That isn’t going to happen.”

  “What do you mean? Have they already detected us?”

  “No. They will never even intersect with this planet. They won’t have to. Because you’re going to meet it.”

  “What? Do you seriously think I’m going to hand myself over?” She snorted.

  “I thought you would do anything to protect the child.”

  “I would, but handing myself over is no guarantee they won’t still come after Karo.”

  “Oh, they won’t stop at just you. But you can put a halt to their machinations. You are the only one who can.”

  “By giving up?”

  “Exactly.”

  “No.” She waved a hand in refusal.

  But Raffie wasn’t about to accept that answer. “I didn’t say you had a choice.” A gas suddenly emerged, filling the room, her lungs…

  She woke up a prisoner of the Rhomanii.

  Chapter 16

  The force field around the makeshift camp evaporated in the middle of the night. It proved distinctive because the sound returned, along with the fresh air of the planet.

  Kobrah immediately woke, and he wasn’t alone. Karo remained tucked against him, less for heat and more for comfort.

  He remembered still, with chilling clarity, the moment the previous day when she’d turned to him with wide eyes and said, “Raffie gave Mommy to the bad guys.”

  For a second he wondered if Dara had betrayed them. He immediately shoved that doubt aside. Dara would never put Karo in harm’s way. Which meant she was in danger.

  He would have sprinted the whole way back to the ship if he could have, but a force field appeared, a perfect dome about twenty paces round. Opaque, impenetrable, and frustrating. Within its cocoon, his communicator didn’t work. Nor his knife. He and Karo were caught like insects in a jar with no idea what happened.

  But he feared the worst, especially given Karo’s statement.

  What had happened to Dara?

  When the dome disappeared—a glance at his holowatch showed the late-night hour of three—the four crescent moons hung in the sky.

  Sprout sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Raffie says we can come home.”

  Raffie, that sly computer, would get a glass of wine poured in his circuits for this st
unt.

  He grabbed hold of Sprout’s hand. If she couldn’t keep up, he’d carry her. Except running didn’t prove necessary. Branches rustled and leaves fell in a shower of blue and purple as the silent white drones descended.

  He pulled his knife and growled, “Get behind me, Sprout.”

  “They won’t hurt us, Daddy. Raffie sent them to bring us home.”

  Flying versus running? Despite a knot of unease, he tucked away his knife and let the tentacles grab him. They swung him and Karolyne clear of the trees and glided quickly toward the dark shape of the citadel.

  Much sooner than he could have hoped for, they landed. Now he did scoop Sprout as he sprinted down the corridors. He barked to the computer, “Where is she?”

  “Please specify,” the smooth tone mocked.

  “Fucking Dara. Where the fuck is she?”

  “Not here.”

  The reply, so smug and frightening, had him punching a wall, the firm material absorbing the impact and jolting him.

  He made it to their room where Dara should have been sleeping. Empty.

  Then the bridge, which she hated, and the lounge that she loved. She was nowhere to be found.

  Chest heaving with exertion, he put Karolyne down. His daughter hugged his leg. “Where is she?” he growled. “You fucking old, defective piece of crap.”

  “Old perhaps, but not defective. Dara has gone to accomplish what had to be done.”

  “What do you mean done? Where did she go?”

  “To the approaching citadel.”

  He blinked. “What fucking citadel? And why would you send her there?”

  “Because only she can stop them.”

  The chill in his veins deepened. “One woman alone? Are you completely virus riddled? You were supposed to keep her safe.”

  “I did what was necessary.”

  “Who are you to make that decision?”

  “Who am I?” The words echoed and mocked all around. Karolyne clung closer. “I am their doom and redemption.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Not important. But I am going to have to ask you to return to your own vessel.”

  “I would love to.” The Gypsy Moth never treated him with sarcasm. “But in case you hadn’t noticed, I crashed here, and we’ve maintained radio silence so as to not attract attention.”

  “No, we didn’t.”

  The reply startled. “Do you mean you’ve been communicating with someone? Who?”

  “Your ship will be arriving within a few hours. You will depart on it.”

  “Seriously? Hear that, Karo, we’re going back to our real home. And then we’ll go find your mother.” He glared at the wall of the ship.

  “Better not waste time. The citadel she’s boarded is about to have issues.”

  “What kind of issues?”

  “The kind that will shut it down and set it adrift with the others.”

  “You sent her over with a virus?”

  Raffie didn’t confirm but went on. “The coordinates to find them have already been programmed into your ship.”

  “And you’re just going to let us go?”

  “I have no need of you.”

  Ominous but Kobrah didn’t care. “How are we getting to the Moth? Shuttle?”

  “Drone.”

  Which, he might add, was the scariest fucking thing he’d ever experienced. Encased in a drone, the belly clear for him to watch, he and Sprout were spit from the surface of the planet and, in less than an hour, had scooted into an open pressure chamber on the Moth and dumped.

  He’d never been happier to see those grated floors. His first mate met him as soon as the pressure evened.

  The door slid open, and relief filled Damon’s face. “Thank fuck you’re back and sorry it took so long to track you. We had a hell of a time shaking the citadel. We finally had to let it get ahead of us in order to lose it.”

  “You won’t thank me for long. I need you to find it.”

  “Find it? Are you insane?”

  Probably, because he was going to rescue his wife.

  Chapter 17

  Waking up a prisoner of the Rhomanii sucked, especially since it was done by treachery. The only good thing was Karo remained safe. So long as Kobrah breathed, he would care for their daughter.

  But could he prevail against a citadel gone corrupt?

  Dara rose from the bunk she lay on and took a look around at her quarters. Didn’t take long. Seen one cell, seen them all. This one was rather decent by most standards. Clean, with a bed containing actual blankets and a mattress. Better than many places she’d lived in the past few years.

  But still a prison.

  She stood and went to the door, about to pound on it when it opened. She stumbled back, especially since she didn’t recognize the man who stood in the arched doorway. She did recognize his pompous air, which went well with the medley of colors he wore—from his brilliant red pantaloons to his gold and green vest. His beard was pointed and oiled while the top of his head held only sparse strands.

  At his back, a squad of guards, faces blank, hands on their weapons. To his left, he was flanked by an androgynous figure in white. A tall figure, with no true shape; no breasts, waist, or hips, but, freakiest of all, a veil covered their entire face, leaving them truly blank.

  “Awake finally. About time.” The bearded one sneered.

  “Thanks for the nap. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got things to do, people to see.” Dara moved toward him, intent on bluffing her way past.

  A rod emerged, the end of it crackling with electricity. “Stay where you are.”

  “Or you’ll what? Zap me? I’m sure what you plan is worse.” She lunged for the buffoon, and he slapped her hand with his electrified rod, sending a stinging jolt through her body.

  Ouch, that did hurt.

  “We don’t want to kill you, but we have no problem with injuries. You don’t need limbs to do what we need.”

  The coldness in those words more than anything halted her. “Need? What are you planning? What is your obsession with me?”

  “None of your concern.” The white-robed priest tilted its covered head. “Where is your other half?”

  “Other half?” She blinked. Did they mean Karo?

  The rod jabbed forward and stabbed. The jolt hit her harder, and she fell to her knees with a gasp.

  “Where is your twin? Aba’ddons always have twins.” The words hit her with incomprehension.

  “What are you talking about? I am an only child.” Annie had said so.

  A hand gripped her by the hair and lifted her. Something prodded at her mind. Poked at her childhood. A childhood with only her teacher as a companion.

  She reeled back when the grip released her.

  “There’s a block on her mind. She knows nothing of her past or family. We’ll need to work at the layers to find the truth.”

  That sounded painful. And what truth? The truth was her parents had died when she was young and she had no siblings.

  “Later,” barked the buffoon. “We have company. That vessel we were following.”

  “What of it? I thought we lost it to come here.”

  “We did, and yet for some reason, it is back and coming at us fast.”

  It occurred to her they spoke of the Gypsy Moth. A ship Kobrah would need to escape that wretched planet and the computer gone mad. She still couldn’t believe it had sacrificed her rather than the bodies on board.

  The priest snorted. “Let it come. It doesn’t have the firepower to take us.”

  When at a disadvantage, bluff, because not all fights were won by might. “Are you sure you’ve got the guts needed? Your ship is looking ragged,” Dara observed, noting the cracks in the veneer of the floor, wires hanging overhead. After spending a few days in the pristine citadel on the planet, the contrast proved sharp.

  “Minor wear and tear. The ship shall undergo repair once we return to our home world.” The smooth voice of the figure in white held no into
nation.

  “And what will happen to me once we get there?”

  “Your role will become clear when the time is right.”

  “I don’t suppose, as a long-lost gypsy princess, I’ll be greeted with riches and adoration.”

  Despite the fabric over the face, she could have sworn the lips pursed. “Lost, yes. Adored, no. Your ancestors are why the Rhomanii are struggling today rather than ruling the universe as they were meant to.”

  “Because my great-times-a-few-grandma decided to escape rather than become a baby machine for a mad king.” Raffie had filled in enough of the blanks in her history for her to guess what it meant. She was the descendent of a legend. Talk about the curse that kept giving. No wonder the Rhomanii chased her around the galaxy. She should have listened to her teacher and stuck close to home.

  The priest bristled. “Emma’s selfishness cost the Rhomanii their future.”

  “Not her fault your king went mad.”

  The slap sent Dara to the floor, palms hitting the solid surface and sinking a bit before stopping her momentum. Her lip throbbed, and a drop of her blood pooled on her lips before dripping. She looked at the red spot, and her fingers dug into the material of the ship itself.

  A tingle went through her hands, and she could have sworn the ship shivered.

  The covered priest snapped. “Blasphemy. You know nothing of what you speak. Our king was the chosen one. It was his evil brother’s fault—”

  Heat flared in her hands, and she felt a hum vibrate her body.

  “Not evil. Mikhail did the right thing.” The voice appeared before the body did.

  The image separated from the wall, tall and masculine in shape, the shoulders broad. The longer she stared, the more it took shape, even growing features and strands of hair. The rendition ended up looking human except when you looked into its eyes. Those were bottomless pits.

  The apparition held out his hand, and despite his uniform dark color, she saw his features grimace. “How unpleasant. I’d forgotten what a tainted vessel felt like. That’s what happens when you let the riffraff pilot it.”

  “Who are you?” blustered the corpulent man in motley clothes who finally found his tongue.

  “Who are you?” aped the apparition.