“Where is he?” she choked.
“The king is fine. He’s resting. He had a minor problem with his heart, but he will recover.”
As strange warmth spread throughout her belly, Sarra relaxed against her pillow. “When can I see him?”
“Soon,” the man assured.
She yawned and sat up. “Why are you here? And why is the doctor? I’m not ill.”
“But you’ve been through so much. We have so many things to talk about.”
“We do?”
“Yes. Why don’t you begin by telling me about the men who abducted you?”
Sarra studied Otis Zenno as he sat his tall, lanky frame down on the edge of her bed. She absently wondered why she had feelings of friendship, because before she had never known any affection for this old, humorless man. But now his wrinkled face was amiable and his smile was kind. She could tell him anything and he would hold it in the strictest confidence. She glanced at the other men—Pratt, and the one in the medical coat. All three were eager to hear her speak.
“Who kidnapped you?” Zenno persisted, compassionately.
Someone screamed in the back of her mind and then everything was quiet. “The Revolutionaries,” she stated.
“She’s under,” the doctor said.
“You married and are carrying the child of one—Raine Nicks is his name?” Otis asked.
Her eyes widened. “How do you know about Raine Nicks?”
“The king’s rooms are monitored.”
“They are?”
“Yes. Now, tell me about Nicks. Is that his real name?”
“No.”
“What is his real name?”
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Zenno looked frustrated, and then he asked, “Do you know the true names of anyone in his rebel clan?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Where did they keep you?”
“On ships, on Myrrh—many fun places.”
“Could you give an exact location?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But you know that they want to steal the rainbow mines?”
“No. They want to give them to the slaves. Someone is evil within the government, Otis. Do you know who he is?”
“They told you lies.”
“They did?”
“Yes. Tell me about your husband.”
“He’s intelligent—very handsome. He can be cruel, but he’s really very nice. He is—”
“Tell me where he’s hiding, Sarra.”
“I don’t know. Maybe in the stars.”
Zenno sighed. “But, you told your father that you wanted him to meet the man. Do you think Nicks will be foolish enough to contact you?”
“Yes.”
“Yes! When?”
“At noon.”
“Tomorrow?”
Sarra looked at the black sky beyond the window. “I think so.”
“Where will you meet?”
“At the wooded grove by the estate’s western boundary line,” she heard her voice say, as if from a great distance away.
“Sleep well, Princess.”
It seemed to Sarra that she had only blinked, but in that instant the lights were gone and she was alone in the room. Startled, she sat up. She tried to recall what had happened, wondering why she felt so drowsy and weak.
Had Zenno really been here, or had it been a dream? She became overwhelmed by alarm … and then the darkness came, consuming her.
***
Raine crouched behind a tree, watching the valley below. Avidly, he waited to see her. He glanced impatiently at his watch. She was late.
A faint noise made him turn. And there she was by the clearing below, wearing a seductive black dress and standing with her back toward him. Her golden tresses shimmered while she looked around as if she were lost. He guessed that she must have had to take a roundabout way to their rendezvous.
“Sarra!” he called, and began his jaunt down to her.
She didn’t hear him, at first. But abruptly, she turned and waved. As he neared her, his instincts screamed at him. Something was wrong … and then he knew, even before the life-size hologram vanished. Too late!
“Dammit!” he cried, before the laser wave struck him, knocking him down.
The soldiers were upon him, binding his hands behind his back. He couldn’t struggle or even speak while they hoisted him into the back of a vehicle. It set into motion, to take him to his prison—or to his death.
When the mild stun effect wore off, Raine used his chest to fight against the five sneering men. “What have you done to her?” he roared from the core of his being.
“Who—your wife?” one taunted.
They laughed and jeered at him, torturing their prize.
***
Sarra woke, feeling strangely ill.
“Get up.”
It was Zenno’s course voice and he was looming above her. He moved to the window, and irritably waved for her to follow. She went to him.
“Is that Nicks?” he asked, pointing out at the lawns.
Sarra’s eyes widened. A group of guards were roughly escorting a prisoner.
“Raine!” she gasped, and became frozen in her shock …
As Raine was made to stand upright on the lawn, something pulled his gaze like a magnet. He looked up and saw Sarra, standing like a goddess on a distant pedestal. She was as composed as a statue while she identified him to the man beside her.
Suddenly, it all was clear. Rage surged through him with such force that it knocked the breath from him. His spirit came together, a black entity bent on blood …
Sarra saw the fury lash out on his face.
Zenno chuckled. “Just had to be sure that he was the one,” he said, and left her.
When Raine was pushed out of her sight, hysteria overtook her. She flew to the door and then to the escape tunnel—both were locked! She called for security on the wall panel, but it was disconnected. She scrambled about, horrified to find that her rooms had been stripped bare of all means of communication.
She knew that no one could hear her through the soundproofing, but she slammed her fists and her feet against the door.
“Let me out! Let me out!” she shrieked … until the shadows came, swallowing her spirit.
Chapter 23
Raine stumbled on within the circle of his captors, shoved and tripped until he was half-dragged beneath all the laughter and ridicule. He didn’t know whom he hated more—himself for letting his guard down, or the princess for her monstrous trickery. She always had wanted him executed! She may be granted her wish. Like a fool, he had become so blinded by her beauty that he couldn’t see her scheming—that she plotted her revenge. What better way to escape his clutches than by pretending to be his ally? She may have won the battle, but he would win the war—just as soon as he could get out of these chains and wring her lofty neck.
“Hurry—get him in there!” a guard shouted excitedly, worried about the vigor of their furious prisoner.
Raine was forced to sit with his hands no longer behind his back but strapped on the arms of a chair. He tested the infallible cuffs and then eased up, saving his strength. Within the room’s dimness, a brilliant light came to shine in his vision, cloaking the presences beyond.
“So, it is you,” a man rasped. “You have become quite a troublemaker. You can’t leave well enough alone, can you?”
Raine used his unseeing glare to threaten. “You seem to know who I am, but I haven’t had the pleasure, Mister …?” he probed sardonically.
“My name is of no concern of yours. Guards—leave, now.”
When they obeyed, Raine sensed that there were four men remaining. His mind worked on the new odds …
“Alias Raine Nicks,” the voice mocked. “It has a truthfully crude ring to it. And here we believed that you weren’t involved in politics—we thought that you were a simple
cargo runner who fled. But you’re not a coward, are you? Just a fool.”
“And whom am I addressing?” Raine scoffed. “The monarch? Or merely another low-life scum who fancies himself a king?”
The harsh chuckles grated on the air. “No, not Ellis—not that incompetent old boy. But, I suggest that you choose your words very carefully. I am the true ruler of the sovereignty.”
“So that is why Adriel has become a place of perversion and decay.”
After a moment, the man said, “You are bold. We’ll see what you say when I cut your tongue out.”
“Zenno!” a different voice barked. “Why can’t we just get what we need and finish him off? He’s irritating!”
“Because, Barlow, I wanted to see the sort of man he was before we break him.”
“It’s obvious that he’s a son of a bitch!”
The prisoner quietly taunted, “Were you born like that, Barlow? Or is stupidity a talent that you learned?”
Raine saw the hot-tempered man’s shadow rushing near. He snarled as the fist impacted on his face, and tasted blood on his lip.
“Gently, now, Barlow. Gently,” Zenno cautioned. “We mustn’t kill him right away. He must first give us the names and locations of the entire Revolutionary clan so we can have them all eliminated. We can’t have them coming back to haunt us, can we?”
Barlow slowly relaxed and moved back into the darkness. “Let’s get it done—give him the serum. I want to see him beg for his life.”
Raine gnashed his teeth in his fury, wanting them to end him here and now. As one came near with the dispenser, he waited for the opportune moment and kicked him squarely in the chest. Although the man fell backward in his agony, another took to the duty. He soon had his legs tied securely, helpless as the truth serum was injected into his system.
Valiantly, he vowed to retain his senses. He filled his head with cogitations of her betrayal to keep his outrage topmost within his mind. He would rather die than become a traitor to the rebels!
“Bastards!” he heard himself spit, before everything slipped away …
It was a while later when Otis lifted his thin hands up, disgusted. “Take him to his cage. We’ll have to try again, later.”
As two men carried the unconscious captive away, Pratt stated his fears to Zenno. “What if we never catch the revolutionists?” he asked. “What if the people start to believe the rumors about the rainbow mines?”
“We’ll find them!” Zenno spat. “But how can he know so little? He’s their leader, isn’t he?”
“The serum is not one hundred percent effective—especially with one as stubborn as he is. And, he is cautious. Like he said, the rebels are never in one place long enough to be taken.”
Otis sighed. “Use the few names that we managed to get out of him and check the files—though I imagine that they all are aliases. But, we know his true identity. Locate his remaining relatives. You know what to do?”
Pratt nodded, and moved for the door. He turned, apprehensive. “I wonder, though. How will we make the princess side with us? She married the man and carries his brat. He so clearly is in love with her, and no doubt it’s mutual. Do we have the marriage annulled?”
“No,” Otis replied. “There is no need. It works for us—it tarnishes her name and makes the commoners see her for the tramp that she is.”
“But how will we get her to cooperate, especially after we execute him?”
“We can’t. Not since she knows the truth. We’ll have to eliminate her.”
“Kill her?”
“Eventually. Can’t make the subjects suspicious.”
“They will know!” he protested. “First, you plan to end the king, and now the princess royal? The masses will revolt! They’ll kill us!”
“Pratt, Pratt, have some faith. Yes, Adrielians love their monarch, but they have sensed that he could die at anytime—it won’t be a great shock. I was planning to do away with Ellis when we had his daughter situated, but now … This is a perfect opportunity. Terrance Shantay will be a much easier puppet to control than that headstrong princess.”
“But—”
“Say no more. And don’t worry. It won’t be long now before the sovereignty is completely ours. We will flush out the Revolutionaries. The king is in a coma. And her injections have already begun.”
***
Sarra stirred, aware that someone was in her cell. Although her limbs were incredibly weighted by her fatigue, she sat up. Who stood there was the last person she wanted to see.
Taylor Gray squinted down on her, his brown eyes venomous and wrathful. “And just what do you have to say for yourself?” he asked irately.
“Say?” she said, and yawned.
Suddenly, his fingers were biting into her arms. He shook her, overcome by his frustration.
“How could you do this to me?” he accused.
“You take your hands off of me,” she recommended levelly.
He dropped her and stalked to the far side of the room, leaning against the window while he worked to control his rage.
“You whore!” he spat. “The Princess Royal of Adriel is nothing more than a slut! Spreading your thighs for a barbarian—a criminal! Did they all use you? Did that satisfy your warped thirst for thrills? And then—incredible! You marry one! And take his lowly brat! Do you know how I worried about you? My sweet, innocent betrothed in the hands of savages! I feared that you’d be raped. I never imagined that you’d like it! Bitch!”
Sarra’s eyes narrowed, seeing beyond his handsome face, aware only of the ugly demeanor inside of him. “You feared for me, Taylor? I don’t think so,” she said coolly. “Just how many thighs were you spreading when all this ‘worrying’ was going on? You vulgar lecher.”
“Me?” he uttered incredulously. “You could call me those names?”
“I can. I’ve always known it.”
“How they have changed you! Why, Sarra, why? I would have adored you! Don’t you feel anything for me anymore?”
“Taylor,” she sighed out. “I never did.”
He arrogantly whisked his back to her. Suddenly, she was hit by a wave of dizziness, and she pressed her palms to her temples. Her head began pounding, like it had often since she had seen Raine being dragged away. Something nagged her at the back of her mind … something that she couldn’t quite grasp—or comprehend. Taking deep breaths, she tried to lessen her panic, vowing not to fall asleep—she must keep her rational!
“Taylor,” she said, hoping that her voice was pleasant enough. “The guards have locked me in here. They won’t let me out. Could you call my father? And Alma? I don’t know why they haven’t come to see me.”
He didn’t turn. “The king is recovering. Your aunt … I have no idea where she is. With him, I imagine.”
“And the prisoner?” she asked, struggling to appear casual.
“Who—your husband?” he sneered.
Sarra rose, and on her weak legs she approached him. “I must see him. Take me to him.”
He spun around. “Never! You plague me with insults and then ask for my help? Never!”
Sarra closed her eyes, silently cursing. Why hadn’t the idea occurred to her? She should have tricked Taylor into thinking that she wanted him—then he would have done anything for her. But, these headaches made her wits sluggish—clouded …
“Tell me, then,” she pleaded. “Is he safe?”
“Not when I get through with him!”
Her eyes flew open. “Don’t you dare touch him!”
He laughed—a cruel, hateful sound. “You never cared for me? And I was sure that you were just playing games. Do you know what you have done? Taken from me my place near the Throne! Humiliated me!” He roughly grasped her shoulders. “Look at you! So exhausted—can’t keep your eyes open! And when I came here you were sleeping. The rogue must have used you too often. Is that why you want to see him? Want more?”
His gaze lit up with lust, traveling on her crumpled, dark-blue gown, on he
r curves. She struggled, but her efforts were useless against his strength.
“Better with me, than him,” he wooed caustically. “I might not be the first, but I’ll be the best. You’ll know pleasure, whore, until you beg for mercy!”
Hysteria rose up in her throat as he clamped his lips down on hers, his warm, grainy tongue ferociously darting. She managed to bite him, and as he freed her, a screech tore from her. She stumbled away, aiming for the door, but he was right behind.
“Come back here, slut!” he blustered. “I’ll take what’s mine!”
Sarra was horrified to discover that she had landed on the bed. He yanked her over on her back and kept her down with his leg, and she shrieked as he tore her dress. Her terror overtook the aching in her head and she slammed her fists with all of her might against his chest, clawing at his shirt. He only laughed at her efforts and straddled her, pressing his clothed hardness against her.
“I always knew you’d be like fire!” he uttered. “And these—so full and round! Firm, but soft—just how I like ‘em!”
Sarra shivered, overwhelmed by her repulsion while he tugged and pawed at her breasts. She cried out as he twisted the tips between sadistic fingers, and then his tongue was an onslaught on her lips, fighting against her clenched teeth, strangling her. He gave up and plastered his wet kisses on her breasts. Desperately, she tried to twist away.
“Raine!” she choked, but knew that he couldn’t save her. She would faint soon, from the pounding within her temples …
“Raine!” he spat viciously. “You call him? Aren’t I savage enough for you, you bitch?”
Taylor wanted this moment to last. He longed to make her beg to be taken, and he would be merciless. His heart pumped in his hatred of her for all that she had done to him, but his loins were ablaze with what she was doing to him. He’d never been this excited before in his life—he’d never raped before. He liked it. And this wasn’t just any woman—she was the princess royal, the unattainable object of men’s desire. She was writhing and defenseless beneath him, her uncommon beauty bare. She was like white-hot sparks against his large, rock-hard member, even though she didn’t want it. His lust had waited for her for what seemed an eternity, and now he would own her. He couldn’t wait …
Queen of the Stars (The Royals of Adriel Book 1) Page 30
