A door slammed open.
“Stop! Or I shoot the girl.”
A bit dazed, Joshua looked over his shoulder. Jacan held Anya up on her tiptoes, his arm a vice about her throat. A laser pressed into her temple.
Breathing heavily, Joshua muttered in a ragged voice, “Release her.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Release her?
What was Joshua thinking? The man held a laser to her head!
But Joshua remained unmoving, back partially to them, shoulders heaving. On the floor, Onred stirred. “I said,” Joshua said with slow menace, “release her.”
The Altai leader went up on one elbow. Joshua’s gaze seemed fixed upon him.
A twisted grin split Onred’s lips. “You’d do anything to save your precious Anya, wouldn’t you?” With a terrible smile, he looked over Joshua’s head, straight into the eyes of his father. At the same time, his hand whipped up, and a blade glinted. “Kill h…”
With unhesitating brutality, Joshua plunged a knife deep into Onred’s throat. Almost faster than thought, her protector withdrew it, pivoted on one heel, and the bloody blade shot straight toward her.
Anya gasped and instinctively ducked.
The man behind her screamed. His thick arms loosened, and she sprang free to whirl on him. He lay motionless on the floor, the knife imbedded to the hilt in his eye. She swallowed a violent surge of nausea and turned to Joshua. After taking Onred’s phone from his dead body, he slowly rose to his feet. Battered, bloody, and bruised, he stood remarkably steady upon his feet.
Tears blurred her vision and she ran into his arms. “Joshua,” she whispered. He felt solid and strong…and smelled of blood.
His arms closed tightly around her. Joshua held her close for so long that she wondered if he ever intended to let her go. She held him tighter. The death and destruction around them sank like a chill into her soul. Joshua had killed tens of people, and she had killed at least nine. So much death and horror. Would they ever be the same again?
Gently, she pulled back. “Let’s go. Richert’s men are on the roof. Michael’s waiting for us, too, with my family.”
“Good.” His beautiful, tawny eyes closed for a second. Beneath the bruises and blood, exhaustion tinged his skin gray. He didn’t move.
“Come on.” Tenderly, she took his hand. “You need a doctor.”
“No.” The word sounded bleak. “I have one more job to finish.”
“What?”
He strode from the room, scrolling through Onred’s phone directory. “Emelie.”
Anya gasped. All of Joshua’s stories about being the clean up man for the military flooded her mind. The only safe enemy is a dead enemy. She dashed after him. “You wouldn’t.”
“Emelie planted the virus in Astana. She is responsible for thousands of deaths.” He shouldered into a nearby stairwell and headed up them, fast.
“But she’s just a child!”
“Fifteen is not a child. And she is Onred’s heir.”
“Joshua!” She grabbed his arm. “I won’t let you.”
He stopped. Slowly and carefully, he gripped her arms and said, “She is a risk that must be neutralized. Permanently.” He finished the last stairs and strode into the fifth floor hall.
“No!” She grabbed his arm, but he shook her free.
“You would have killed her thirty minutes ago.”
“To free you. And my family. But now…”
“Now they’re free. But this war will continue until we cut off the head.”
Was Joshua a monster? Was this man she loved a cold-hearted child killer? “Don’t murder her,” she cried out. “I’ll never be able to look at you again.”
He rammed the key card into Emelie’s locked door and sent a grim look over his shoulder. “Who said anything about murder?”
Joshua slammed open Emelie’s door.
To Anya’s consternated relief, the room was empty. Joshua strode from one end to the other, upending the bed, wrenching open closets. She was gone.
Anya watched in silence. “If you don’t plan to kill her, then what do you plan to do with her?”
He swore. “Shuttle bay. Now.”
She followed in his fast footsteps. Emergency lights flickered. Cold crept through the halls in a thickening, frigid current. Scores of Richert’s red-suited soldiers ran through the corridor, mixing with a few blue Donetski men. Black clad Gorno men lay dead. Children’s cries reached her ears. Innocents were suffering. They would continue to suffer…for days, weeks, perhaps even months—if they survived that long.
Anya could not grasp the unending horror and misery just beginning all around her. She burst into the shuttle bay shortly after Joshua. Although flooded with people, all of the aircraft were gone.
Outside the windows, a swarm red birds, vastly outnumbering the Donetski blue ones, made short work of the fleeing black ships. For a second, the threatening sight of Richert’s dominant forces made her steps falter. If she didn’t know Richert was on their side, the sight would frighten her. As it was, she could only feel thankful.
The war was almost over. Just like that.
“Now what?”
Joshua gazed outside, his lips straight and hard. “We can hope justice has been served. If we’re lucky, Onred’s line has ended forever.”
“You would wish for the death of a little girl?”
He turned to her. “No. But I can wish for the deaths of all who would advise her to carry on her father’s quest. I can pray for that. And I will.”
“Do you really think she’s evil?” Anya asked in a hushed voice. “She cried when I held her hostage, just like Marli would. She might have only been a pawn. A little girl trapped by her father’s expectations.” She looked at Joshua. “But you would understand that, wouldn’t you?”
His shoulders relaxed a little. “Yes,” he said at last. “I would.”
More quietly, she said, “What did you plan to do, then, if you’d found her?”
“Banish her to our northern city.”
“To the prison?”
“Yes. If she proved trustworthy…and sane, I would transfer her to the supervised level.”
“She would never be free.”
“It would be natural for her to want to avenge her father’s death. We could never trust her. So no, she’d never be allowed to go free.”
“I see.”
He turned to her. “Do you?” The weight of the world seemed to deaden those brown eyes.
“I do.” She slipped her arms around him and pressed her cheek into his shoulder. And she did understand. He didn’t want to ruin a child’s life. But Emelie had planted the fatal virus. She was a smart child, and could possibly be a dangerous one, if enough of her father’s tainted blood ran through her veins. The safety of Donetsk had to come first.
Joshua’s arms closed tightly around her, and remained so for a long time. At last, he touched the transmitter at his collar. “Alpha Victor. Ready for transport.”
* * * * *
Michael instructed Joshua and Anya to meet him at the far end of the shuttle bay. They managed to board before any desperate Gorno people could crowd in close enough to beg passage from their dying city.
Marli greeted them with hugs. The little craft was crowded. It was only meant to hold four, at the most, but including the doctor, eight weighed down the ship.
“We’ll make it,” Michael assured them. “Doc, take a look at my brother. He’s in bad shape.” Joshua allowed the doctor to attend to his visible wounds. Dr. Spalding clucked that Joshua would need to spend twenty-four hours in Zyra’s hospital.
Anya would be surprised if Joshua stayed until dawn.
They flew into the black night, leaving behind the pale, flickering lights of Gorno. Damon was awake now, to Anya’s relief. According to Dr. Spalding, he was recovering, but needed to be admitted to the hospital immediately.
Marli snuggled up against Anya. “The war’s over, right?”
“Yes.
Onred is dead.” And so was his evil father, Jacan. However, Cadmus, the other son, was still alive. He was a wanderer, also nicknamed “The Ghost,” and was rumored to live in western Mongolia. Would he take it upon himself to avenge his father and brother’s deaths? If so, Richert might be right. Maybe they’d have to fight all of western Mongolia next. But now wasn’t the time to think about the unknown future.
“Your face is burned,” Elise told Anya. “Hold still. I’ll fix it.” Elise borrowed the healing wand from the doctor and cool light touched Anya’s left temple. The spot did burn, now that Elise mentioned it. So did her arm. Anya had forgotten about being shot in the communications center. Her foot burned, too. Why?
And then she remembered being shot in the boot in the conference room. Upon closer inspection, a hole perforated the boot. Her foot was burned, but not too badly. She took the wand from Elise and patched it up.
An hour later, back in Zyra, Joshua, Anya, and her entire family were ordered to report to the hospital. Damon, David, and Joshua were admitted, amid protests. After being released, Anya and her sisters were ushered to a suite of rooms which they were instructed to consider their own, for as long as they wished them.
Anya tucked Marli into bed, said goodnight to Elise, and collapsed onto her own soft, warm bed with the blankets pulled to her chin. Was it possible the war could be over so quickly? All worries of Cadmus aside, they had escaped Gorno. Onred was dead. Joshua and her siblings would live. What more could she possibly want?
All of her prayers had been answered. For the first time, Anya realized the enormity of this simple fact. Tears in her eyes, she breathed a heartfelt prayer of thanks.
She fell deeply into dreams of death, blood, and horror. The souls of the men she had killed tormented her. Guilt plagued her. And worse, Joshua went missing. Where could he be? She searched everywhere, but he could not be found.
He did not want to be found.
At dawn, Anya woke up in a cold sweat. One fact pierced her heart like a knife. Joshua meant to leave her.
She had to stop him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Anya slipped into the shower, feeling dead tired after the short night of tossing and turning. The warm water revived her a bit. Hopefully enough to survive the coming confrontation with Joshua. Maybe her dream had been a premonition, or maybe only a result of the fear and horror lingering from the attack on Gorno. Soon, she’d find out the truth.
A brush through her hair, clean clothes and wounds tended, she left the room, heading for the main conference room. She had to find Joshua.
The halls were quiet. Too quiet. She hurried faster, but found the conference room empty. She stopped a uniformed man. “Where’s Birn and Ray?”
The corporal’s eyes narrowed. Puzzling contempt curled his lips. “Command Center’s main viewing room. Straight ahead and to the right.”
“Thanks.” Disconcerted by his attitude, she sent him a frown and hurried to her destination.
A swipe of the Zyran security keycard she’d been given, and she entered the huge room. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the western plain and the eastern, snowcapped mountains. To the south, a gigantic television screen broadcasted footage of a smoking Gorno. Birn, Ray, Joshua, and a few others stood in the middle of the room, talking. If Joshua’s set expression and straight, stiffly held shoulders were any indication, the conversation was serious.
Birn caught sight of Anya. “Get out. You have no place here.”
“Speak to her with respect,” Joshua said in a low, harsh snarl.
“I am baron now,” Birn bit back. “I’ll listen to your advice, but that woman means nothing to Donetsk. Escort her out, or I’ll order my men to throw her out.”
Stunned and confused, Anya’s gaze went from Birn to Joshua. Birn claimed he was baron now? What had happened? How could he strip away Joshua’s power, and dismiss her as if she were a piece of trash?
Joshua strode for Anya. His features were like expressionless stone. Firm fingers took her elbow. “Come with me.”
Without a word, she obeyed and followed him into an empty conference room. The door slid shut behind them. There, he released her. The burned patch on his cheek had faded to a light pink, and his cuts and gashes were half healed. The skin around his eyes, though, was a pale purple color. His eyes looked black.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s my fault,” he gritted. “I should have stopped him. I’m sorry.”
Now she was even more confused. “You should have stopped who from doing what?”
A grimace flickered. “Remember the elevator in Gorno? When I kissed you.”
“Yes. Of course.” How could she forget? She had wondered if that would be the last blissful moment she’d ever spend in Joshua’s arms.
“Onred got it on digital feed. He taunted me with it. I should have shot him before he sent it.”
“He sent it…over Alpha?”
“Yes.”
Anya felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She needed to sit down.
Of course. That explained the corporal’s contempt, and Birn’s greedy grab for power.
“I can fix this,” Joshua said, his voice even.
Anya instinctively stiffened. Her fears from the dream returned with full force. “No.”
“Listen,” he said curtly. “I can make this all go away. You’ll keep power in Donetsk.”
But Joshua would not. This was abundantly clear from his set expression. “I don’t want power. Not without you.”
“You owe it to your family. Renounce me.”
“What?”
“Tell Birn and Ray that I forced myself on you. Demote me to an enlisted man. Banish me to Tash.”
“No! I won’t.”
“The Dubrovnyks will retain power. That’s as it should be.”
“I won’t lie. Not for you. Not for my family. For no one.” The injustice of the situation caught her by the throat. “This is wrong. We saved Donetsk from Onred. Birn has no right…”
“He has every right,” Joshua returned quietly. “Renounce me. That is an order, Dubrovnyk.”
A laugh battled with her despair. She went to him and gripped the lapels of his uniform jacket. It was her favorite one—the baron’s cream jacket with gold trim. She had always thought he looked so handsome in it. “I will never renounce you,” she told him. “Never.”
“Any…” His gaze flicked over her shoulder.
The automatic door hissed. Someone had come in.
Perfect. Now was her opportunity to end this argument once and for all. Anya’s hands slid up and curved around the back of Joshua’s neck. His eyes narrowed, anticipating her plan, and he refused to allow her to tug down his head.
No matter. She went up on her toes and kissed him, full on the mouth. His lips felt hard and unyielding, but she pressed closer to him and stroked his hair.
He broke the kiss by turning his face aside. “Anya.” Although the guttural word was clearly meant to be reproving, it sounded tortured, instead.
Encouraged, and ignoring their silent, condemning audience, Anya nuzzled his neck and pressed kisses into the strong line of his throat. Now, no one could ever doubt that she was a more than willing participant in the broadcasted elevator kiss.
Joshua convulsively swallowed. “Stop. That is enough.”
A throat cleared behind her. “We have news,” Ray said. “You’re wanted in the Command Center. Anya, too.”
* * * * *
Richert’s weathered face filled the main viewing screen when they returned to the Command Center. The territory baron’s obsidian eyes seemed to bore into the room, as if he could read the thoughts of everyone present. The thick, silvered black brows bristled in their usual, unfriendly manner, but an uncharacteristic smile curled his lips. Unease struck Anya when she saw it.
“Joshua,” her uncle growled. “Lost power, eh? Sorry to deliver more bad news. But I have someone you know.” When he scowled, the camera zoomed back to rev
eal a torso shot of Richert sitting at a conference table. Next to him, with a laser to his temple, sat Michael.
Anya gasped. Michael’s features appeared stoic, and he very much reminded her of his brother right then.
“What do you want?” Joshua bit out.
Richert cackled. “You haven’t seen everything. Yet.” He waved an impatient hand, and another video feed superimposed over the bottom corner of the screen. A slow pan revealed a wall shot of the parked birds in ZCA.
Joshua went pale.
Birn scowled. “What’s that?”
Anya remembered that for security reasons, Joshua had told his commanders very little about ZCA or its location. Now it seemed to be a moot point. Richert’s men had discovered ZCA. The secret was out.
Another screen shot popped into the other corner of the screen. Slovic and many other men knelt in ZCA’s Command Central, hands on their heads. Both small screens revealed few actual details of ZCA, Anya realized, but enough so that Joshua would understand that Richert now owned control of their last military stronghold.
“Understand what this means, Joshua?” Richert queried. When Joshua’s jaw clenched, the old baron pressed, “What about your men? Do they understand?”
Tersely, Joshua told Birn and Ray, “They have ZCA.”
Disbelief registered, and then Ray’s face went blank.
Furious color darkened Birn’s skin. He cursed. “You bastard!”
Richert ignored this. His gaze remained focused upon Joshua. “I’ve got you. I suggest you surrender Donetsk Terr itory now. No more bloodshed is necessary.”
Anya felt sick. Her head had warned her that this would happen. Her illogical heart had wanted to trust the crotchety, hurting—megalomaniac—old man who was her uncle. She wanted to curse the two-faced man and call him every foul name under the sun, but she did not. Trembling with emotion, she turned her back on the screen.
Every man in Command Central mutely turned to Joshua, unconsciously seeking his opinion and his leadership. All except for Birn, who blustered, “We’ll fight you to the death, Richert!”
Ice Baron (Ice Chronicles, Book One (science fiction romance)) Page 25
