Claimed by the Cyborg (Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance Book 5)

by Cara Bristol

  Once news of her intended abdication got out, she would lose what little leverage she did have. She’d become a pariah, like her mother had said.

  “Pardon me, Princess.” A servant hovered in the doorway. The interruption showed the paucity of her influence. Even the servants didn’t obey her. She’d given orders she wasn’t to be disturbed.

  “What is it?”

  “I informed him you were in seclusion, but he insisted on seeing you,” the servant said.

  “Who?”

  “Councilman Omax. He insists on speaking with you.”

  “Omax?” Facing Kur and Naimo’s father rated last on her list of preferences. He believed wholeheartedly in March’s guilt. He’d discovered and revealed their past relationship to the council.

  “Tell him I will meet with him tomorrow.” That would give her time to generate an excuse to avoid it.

  “Um…he’s waiting in your receiving room,” the servant whispered.

  More proof of how little power she held. “Very well.”

  Julietta entered the parlor to find Omax on her settee. He rose to his feet and gave a little bow. “Princess. Thank you for meeting with me.”

  It’s not like I have a choice. “This is rather unorthodox,” she said. “I don’t understand why you’re here.” She didn’t have time to talk to Omax. She had to figure out how to save March!

  “Your father contacted me,” he said.

  Of course, he had informed Omax and Kur of her decision, but she never expected the councilor to approach her. Had he come to talk her out of it? She did not feel up to a confrontation, and her mind was made up. Nothing he could say would change it. “About what?” She feigned ignorance.

  Civility vanished under a cold smile. “Do you want to play this game when the life of your Terran lover hangs in the balance?”

  The malice in his tone knocked her off-balance, but she pulled herself together. She was still the emperor’s daughter, and until she officially abdicated, empress-to-be. “Do not speak to me like that.”

  Omax moved around the room, picked up a glass box from a small table, and pretended to examine it. She didn’t like the way he touched her things, either. His manner seemed proprietary, possessive, insulting. The tension stretched tauter than a shuttle docking tie. With affected caution, he replaced the box on the table as he’d found it. “My men await their orders,” he said.

  “Your men? What men? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Unease curled in the pit of her stomach. Hadn’t she been thinking she should have cultivated followers loyal solely to her? It stood to reason council members had done the same.

  Omax lifted his wrist bearing a comm device. “One word from me, and your lover goes free.”

  Why did his offer of assistance sound like a threat? And how could he assure March’s release anyway? “You don’t have the authority to release him.”

  “I don’t need authority. I only need the means. His release has already been set in motion. I have instructed my guards to lower the force field. What happens next depends on you.”

  March had been freed? Why would Omax help a man he obviously despised, who he believed had murdered his son? It didn’t add up. “What do you mean, what happens next?”

  “As I said, my guards are in the process of releasing him as we speak. Give me your vow you will bond with Kur, and I will have Mr. Fellows escorted to a ship and flown to the nearest Association of Planets space station, where he may arrange transport home.”

  Her heart thudded. “If I refuse?”

  Omax approached and stopped right in front of her. “He will be killed in an escape attempt.”

  Horror washed over her, but she kept a clear head. He can’t do this. He is bluffing. “I will tell my father and the entire council everything you told me!”

  Omax shrugged. “You may—but Mr. Fellows will still be dead.”

  “You would murder him in cold blood to force me to bond with Kur? Why? Would it not be better for your son to bond with someone willing?”

  Omax stepped to the window and peered into the courtyard as if enjoying the pink light of day. “You must be his mate. For him to bond with another would not accomplish my goal,” he said in a monotone.

  “And what is that?”

  He turned around. “Control of Xenia. You have made no secret of your reluctance to rule, but no one expected you to abdicate. I had assumed once you bonded, you would delegate your responsibilities to your consort. My tribe represents 20 percent of the population. Your family’s tribe represents forty. With my son as your consort, I would have the support of the majority of the population—and the power that goes with it.”

  Never would she have abrogated responsibility if she held the scepter! Never. But would she have been vigilant? Maybe not. However, the revelation of his plot opened her eyes and ignited a fire. For the first time, a desire to rule burned, fueled by the need to put Omax in his place and ensure her people were never subjugated by the likes of him. She didn’t doubt he would be a despot. “I am no figurehead. If I was empress, I would rule my planet, and you would have little say. What you have confessed is treason. I can have you arrested and imprisoned. ” And she would—as soon as he left her quarters.

  “What I speak of is a bloodless coup. We are a peace-loving people, are we not? We can transfer power without bloodshed—or we can have a revolution. Do not test me. You have no idea how ruthless I can be.” Omax leaned in close. “I killed my son for this.”

  Julietta’s jaw dropped. “You killed—”

  “Naimo.” He nodded.

  “Are you insane? Why?” She inched backward. Could he really have murdered his son to achieve his political ambitions? How would that further his quest for power? She was alone with this madman. The servants wouldn’t come—she’d told them to stay away.

  Omax shook his head. “Naimo remained true to the emperor. He would have opposed taking control of Xenia, so I eliminated him. Kur is loyal to me. At my direction, he dipped the saber in the toxin—after ingesting minute quantities of the poison himself.”

  She drew two simultaneous conclusions: the officiant who had testified had lied for Omax, and Kur had to be as crazy as his father.

  “Why would he risk his life by poisoning himself?” If she could reach the door, she could make a break for it and scream at the top of her lungs. How long had he been planning this? What forces had he marshaled while the empire slept? He couldn’t get away with this, could he? She would tell her father everything.

  “Our original plan was for Kur to defeat and kill Naimo in the Sha’A’la, thereby winning bonding rights. Then your Terran lover showed up, and we realized if Kur didn’t fight, couldn’t fight, he would be free of suspicion. Since the challenger was an alien and couldn’t claim victory, a replacement mate would be appointed. Kur, as the near-challenger, would be the obvious choice.”

  “Why would you tell me this?” She was nearly to the door.

  Omax skirted around her and cut off her escape. “So you understand the lengths to which I will go to achieve my aims.”

  What should she do? Play along and pretend to agree? Or inform him outright he had no chance of succeeding and should surrender now.

  He killed his own son! And Kur helped him. They are monsters. While ultimately Omax couldn’t succeed in his plot, he could harm March. She had to do whatever it took to ensure that didn’t happen. Let him think she would capitulate, and then, at the right moment, strike back. “All right,” she lied. “I’ll bond with Kur.”

  “Excellent,” he said, with a twisted smile. He tapped his comm unit.

  “Yes, Councilor?” came a gruff voice over the link.

  “You are in the dungeon?”

  “Yes, we’re in the dungeon. We’ve been waiting for your call.”

  “Good. Kill Mr. Fellows.” Omax looked at Julietta. “Rule one: don’t lie to me.”

  * * * *

  March could climb the walls. What was taking Julietta so long? H
e’d expected to see her again by now. A cloaked ship orbited, ready to extract as soon as he gave them landing coordinates. First, he had to get the fuck out of this cell, and for that he needed her help.

  He’d jettisoned the idea of busting through the force field. Punching through would fry his circuitry, and he would need every erg of cyber-power to escape the palace, rendezvous with the ship, and get off the planet.

  His only option was to get a remote and deactivate the field.

  Maybe that’s what she’s doing—trying to get a device. He wished she’d hurry. The situation hadn’t mushroomed to a crisis yet, but it showed all the signs of heading that way.

  At the end of the cell block, one of two guards began to speak. March cocked an ear.

  “Yes, Councilor?” the guard said, and paused in silence. He must be speaking into his comm link. “Yes, we’re in the dungeon,” he said a moment later. “We’ve been waiting for your call.”

  The conversation had to be about him. He wished he could hear the other half, but the guard must have switched the module to private mode. He had addressed the caller as “Councilor” so he belonged to the tribunal. Why would the emperor’s guards be waiting for a word from the council?

  March crept close to the force field and craned his neck to try to see what was happening.

  “Right away,” the guard said.

  Two sets of footsteps headed in his direction. Nanos buzzed with alarm. He stepped away from the force field and scanned the cell. There was nothing to use as a weapon. All he had was his own body. Lethal under many conditions, but not against electronic weaponry.

  “As you wish,” the guard said, and then a beep indicated the connection had been severed. They approached the cell and stopped. One carried the field deactivator, the other had a photon blaster. “This is your lucky day,” the one with the blaster said then pivoted as someone entered the cell block. Jules? March couldn’t see that far down the corridor.

  “What do you want?” The guard with the blaster scowled.

  “I have come to talk to the prisoner,” came the seer’s shaky voice.

  He couldn’t fathom why she’d sought him out, but between the guards and the old woman, he’d take his chances with her. The guards caused his internal protective radar to ping.

  “This area is off-limits,” the guard barked.

  Xenians supposedly revered their seer, but the man showed none of that in his tone. So much for friendliness and kindness. Civility whitewashed their aggression. When he’d first arrived, no one had carried weapons. At the first blip of trouble, they’d armed immediately.

  The seer tottered into view, leaning on her cane. “You are dismissed.” Her shaky voice still managed to carry authority.

  “By whose orders?” The guards smirked.

  “Mine.”

  The guards glanced at each other and laughed. “I don’t think so, old woman. We don’t report to you.”

  She cocked her head. “Who do you report to?”

  Good question. March was curious to hear the response.

  “That is none of your concern.”

  The only acceptable answer was “the emperor.” The non-answer spoke volumes. Whoever they had vowed fealty to, it wasn’t Emperor Dusan.

  “I am ordering you to release the prisoner into my custody,” she said.

  “Not going to happen. I suggest you leave,” the guard said.

  She shook a gnarled finger. “You will pay for your actions.”

  “Get her out of here,” the other guard finally spoke.

  His partner nodded. “I asked you nicely,” he said. “Now it’s time for you to leave.” He tucked his weapon into his holster and started toward the seer.

  From the folds of her skirt, the old woman pulled out a blaster and shot him. He crumpled to the floor, hitting the stone with a thud. His partner’s eyes widened, and he grabbed for his holstered weapon. She blasted him, too. He went down, and the remote flew out of his hands.

  What the fuck? March stared.

  The seer deactivated the force field. “Come with me!”

  Yes, ma’am. She didn’t need to tell him twice. He scooted out of the cell.

  “Your life is in danger. Hurry. We don’t have much time.” She shuffled down the cell block.

  “Wait a sec.” He grabbed a guard’s ankles and dragged him into the cell. After moving the other one, he tore off their wrist comms and relieved them of their weapons.

  “Good idea.” She reactivated the force field after he exited.

  He tucked one weapon into his waistband and gripped the other. He trotted to her side. “Where are you taking me? Why did you let me out?” He had no facts or history to know if he could trust her, but instinctively he did—though she’d screwed up imperially in her matchmaking.

  The door opened to admit two guards. March raised the weapon, prepared to shoot his way out.

  “No!” The seer grabbed his wrist. “They are with me.”

  “You have guards?” His jaw dropped. Jules had feared her abdication and defection would plunge her planet into turmoil; it appeared it was beginning. The emperor might be the public power figure, but that hadn’t precluded political maneuvering behind the scenes.

  “One cannot survive without friends and loyalists,” she said.

  “The passage is clear,” one of her guards reported.

  “Good.” She nodded. “Show Mr. Fellows to Princess Julietta’s quarters and then escort them to the shuttle launch. I would go with you if I could, but my old bones do not move as easily as they once did. Haste is imperative. I will hinder you.”

  “Why are you helping me?” he asked.

  “As it was meant to be, so it must be. There is more than one path, but there is only one outcome,” she said. “Detailed explanations must wait.”

  He doubted another opportunity would come. When he and Jules left, it might be forever. But getting out trumped getting an explanation. “Thank you,” he said.

  “You should hide those blasters,” the guard advised. “If we encounter anyone, and you are armed, it will raise suspicion.”

  “Right.” He tucked the weapons into his waistband, pulled his tunic over them, and followed the men out.

  Chapter Twenty

  Julietta dried the wetness from her face. She peered into the mirror and schooled her features into appropriate blankness. For this to work, she had to be convincing. If March doubted her sincerity, he wouldn’t leave, and then he would die. Even if—when—the councilor could be brought to justice—March would still be dead. Omax was insane to believe he could take over the empire, but he could arrange for a murder. He’d done it once already. He’d killed his own son.

  Pain slammed into her chest with every breath. Her heart broke at the hurt she would cause. Even after she suppressed the insurrection, nothing would ever be same. She’d left March once already; he would never forgive her a second time.

  Worse, his survival was far from guaranteed. She had only the promise of a man who’d betrayed his emperor and murdered his own son that he would not harm March if she agreed to cooperate. What if he hadn’t called off his guards like he’d said. What if he’d double-crossed her and had him killed anyway? No! He must be alive! He has to be!

  I will know soon enough. She had demanded proof he was unharmed. Omax had agreed to bring him to her and then shuttle him to an AOP space station.

  Once Omax couldn’t reach him, she would rush to her father. Together they would defeat the rebellion.

  A hail echoed from outside her quarters.

  Julietta clenched and released her fists. I must be strong. No matter what his reaction, I must not waver. His life depends on me.

  She opened the door. Two armed guards she did not recognize—Omax’s men—flanked March.

  “Grab your stuff. Hurry!” March said. “We have to leave stat!”

  His urgency, his sincerity contracted her heart. She glanced at the guards. Everything she said would be reported to Omax. “I’
m not leaving with you,” she said. “I’m staying on Xenia. I am going to bond with Kur.”

  He recoiled as if she’d struck him. “What?”

  “I must stay and watch over my people.” That part was true. She could not allow Omax and his son to rule the planet. However, she would never bond with Kur. Never. Not even to save her people. Omax had to believe she would, though, or he would follow through with his threat. “They need me.”

  Pain contorted his features. “What the hell happened? What changed?”

  Her heart seized in her chest. I can’t do this. I can’t. She fought to suppress the tears. If March doubted her words, he might do something stupid and noble and end up dead. The guards were expressionless. She hated them. Hated Omax and Kur. I will make them pay for March’s pain.

  “I realized I cannot abdicate my responsibility. I wish to bond with Kur.” She spoke the words Omax had ordered her to say.

  “I don’t understand. Did somebody talk to you? Your father—”

  “No, nobody spoke to me. I realized I can’t walk away from my obligations. I was wrong to think I could. I’m sorry. I can’t go with you. Please leave.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  The pain in his eyes almost unraveled her. “I do mean it. I never meant to mislead you, to hurt you.”

  Her apology lit his anger in a flash. “Never meant to mislead me? How the hell wouldn’t I be misled by you saying you loved me and would leave with me? Do you just get off on playing with people? I can’t believe I was stupid enough to trust you again.” He shook his head as if dazed. “Have a good life, Princess.” He pivoted and stalked down the corridor. One guard followed him.

  The other hesitated, glancing between her and March, disappearing as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. “It is not my business. But is this what you want?”

  “Tell Councilor Omax I did as he ordered.” She retreated into her quarters and shut the door. She sank to her knees and sobbed.