The Dark Prince's Prize (Curizan Warrior Book 2)

by S. E. Smith

  “What have you discovered?” Ha’ven asked.

  Arrow opened his mouth to reply just as a violent shudder disrupted the connection. Adalard helplessly watched as Arrow was thrown sideways out of view. Sitting forward in his seat, Adalard peered at the distorted video feed. All he could see was the collapsed wall behind his twin.

  “Arrow!” Ha’ven yelled.

  The men sitting around the table watched in grim helplessness at the scene unfolding before their eyes. Adalard unconsciously flexed his fingers and counted as he waited for Arrow to reappear. The seconds stretched to minutes as he and the others listened to alarms, the cracking of mortar, and the sizzling of electronic equipment. He swiftly inhaled when the connection flickered at the same time as he noticed a movement at the bottom of the screen.

  “Crimatus deathdealers!” Arrow cursed as he stiffly rose to his feet.

  “Are you hurt?” Adalard demanded.

  Arrow covered his mouth, smothering his cough. Smoke and debris floated in the air. A fast-acting foam sprayed down from the ceiling, dissipating the dust particles. Arrow scowled and scanned the ruined area behind him.

  “I’m fine. I’ll get back with you when I know what happened,” Arrow grimly replied.

  The screen flickered again and went dark. Ha’ven’s fist connected with the table. Adalard met his brother’s furious expression and grimly nodded. Either one of Arrow’s experiments went wrong or the traitors were growing bolder.

  “I’ll contact Melek. I have a bad feeling about this,” he stated, rising to his feet.

  Ha’ven nodded. “I agree. This is too much of a coincidence. Between the device Quill found and the creature that was on your ship, I fear we may not have rooted out all the traitors on Ceran-Pax,” he added.

  Adalard grimly nodded in agreement. “I’d like to speak with Salvin as well. Arrow mentioned he found something. If he did, he most likely discovered the information in the Archives. Salvin is sure to know about it as well,” he said.

  “I want to speak with Quill again,” Ha’ven said, rising to his feet.

  Adalard paused as he turned toward the door. “What is it?” he asked.

  Ha’ven frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know—just a feeling,” he replied.

  Adalard immediately thought of Samara. He had taken her away from Earth to protect her and brought her into something potentially far more dangerous. Needing assurance that she was alright, he reached out to her. Panic gripped him when she didn’t immediately respond.

  This ship is amazing! she finally answered. Emma and I are exploring.

  Adalard relaxed when he heard Samara’s excited response. Ha’ven noticed his relief and smirked. He scowled back at Ha’ven, ignoring the glimmer of knowing amusement in his brother’s eyes.

  I will see you later, he responded.

  Take your time. There are loads of stuff for me to check out, she said.

  Be careful, he cautioned.

  I will. Crom is with us, she cheekily replied.

  He groaned at the thought of the Moniker. The other man was probably pouring on the charm even as they were speaking. Ha’ven really should have left the man back on the Red Planet’s moon where he belonged.

  “Crom is with them,” Ha’ven stated.

  He rolled his eyes. “So Samara said. Let me know if you find out anything new from Quill,” he said before turning and exiting the room.

  Quill frowned when the door to the secondary Communications Access room didn’t automatically open when he pressed his palm to the entry panel. He pulled his hand away and tried it again. Unease began to fill him and he hesitatingly reached up to tap the communicator he was wearing. He paused over the button as he debated whether to notify Adalard. Deciding to proceed with caution, he tapped his communicator.

  “What is it?” Adalard answered.

  “I’m not sure, sir. I’m on Sublevel 3 at the Secondary Communications Access room. I ran diagnostics on all the systems before we departed the planet’s orbit, and I noticed an unusual signal that was transmitted from the ship. I traced it to this room, but the access door won’t open. I-I thought since you asked me to keep things quiet that I should inform you,” he responded.

  “Wait for me. I’m on my way,” Adalard replied.

  “Yes, sir,” he answered.

  Quill studied the door. They would need to gain access to it. He placed his tool bag on the floor and retrieved the small computer module he used to run diagnostics as well as the tools he would need to open the access panel. In seconds, he had opened the panel and plugged the ribbon cable into the computer module. He scanned the code, searching for any changes.

  A flash of unfamiliar code caught his attention and he scrolled back to it. Each coder had a specific writing style. He was fairly certain he knew all the onboard technicians’ styles. After finding the burnt module, he had taken the time to study them. This one was different. He didn’t recognize it. That meant one of two things—either he had missed one or the person who did this wasn’t assigned to the engineering department.

  He started in surprise when he sensed someone standing behind him. He sighed in relief when he realized it was Adalard. The man moved with incredible stealth.

  “Can you open it?” Adalard asked.

  “Yes. I wanted to see if I could recognize the code. It is like a fingerprint. Whoever did it was good, not great, but good,” he replied. He grimaced when Adalard raised his eyebrow at him. “Give me a minute.”

  “Who else has access to this room?” Adalard impatiently asked.

  “The Officers, Engineering, Software Managers, Maintenance, Electrical…,” Quill absently muttered.

  “Is there anyone who doesn’t have access?” Adalard dryly asked.

  Quill looked up with a frown. “Not really. It isn’t like anyone really uses this access and if they do…,” he said.

  “They have to use their access ID or the biometric readers,” Adalard finished.

  “Yes, sir,” he replied just as the door silently slid open.

  He opened his mouth only to close it when Adalard shook his head at him to remain silent. He warily watched as Adalard stepped past him into the room. He glanced at the laser pistol in Adalard’s hand. A frantic scan of his tool bag revealed only a few limited options as a weapon. He grabbed the long handle of a welding torch.

  Swallowing, he cautiously followed Adalard into the room. While he was trained to be a warrior, his specialty was in—well, everything but being a warrior. He could read code at a phenomenal rate, understand just about any diagram placed in front of him, and could create an engine with a few wires and the welding tool. Okay, the last part about the engine was a bit of a stretch, but he was pretty good at building things.

  He twisted and pressed his back against a power wall designed to keep the secondary communication systems running in the event of a power failure. Sweat beaded on his brow as Adalard motioned for him to move around to the other side. He nodded and squeezed the torch handle to keep from dropping it.

  Adalard slid between the wall and a bank of computer equipment. He peered over the edge. A person’s shadowy silhouette reflected on the wall.

  “Step out now with your hands raised,” he ordered.

  Whoever the person was, they ignored his command. He looked over at Quill and motioned for him to remain where he was standing. Quill gave him a brief nod.

  He peered around the corner of the cabinet again before focusing on the spot where he last saw movement. In seconds, he appeared in the space next to the crouching figure. He gripped the slender shoulder and realized it was a woman.

  The woman struck him in the chest with the palm of her hand. He stumbled back and she took off around the corner of the cabinet before he could get a good look at her. A flashing light against the cabinet caught his attention as he regained his balance.

  “Explosive! Take cover!” he shouted, diverting his gaze from the brilliant flash of light as he raised his hands to form a protective
shield. Fire engulfed the room.

  Projectile debris shot out from the mangled computer cabinet. The explosion rippled through the room. The rows of communication equipment were torn from their foundations, falling like dominos. The intense heat and raining debris flowed around his shield.

  In the smoke-filled room, the glow from the red emergency lights cast an eerie radiance. Fire retardant rained down from the ceiling and flooded the area. It would be difficult to see until the exhaust fans activated.

  Adalard kept the bubble-shaped shield around himself as he picked his way through the destroyed room, searching between the debris for the traitor. A large cabinet lay across a section of the corridor leading to the door and he was forced to lower his energy shield. Covering his mouth and nose in the curve of his elbow, he lowered his eyelids as the acrid smoke burned his eyes. A low moan from behind caused him to twist around. He cursed when he saw that Quill was trapped under one of the tall server cabinets.

  “Adalard!” Ha’ven yelled from the entrance to the room.

  He looked at the doorway through the red haze. “Quill is injured,” he shouted.

  “My legs are trapped. I think they may be broken,” Quill said through gritted teeth.

  “Hold on. We’ll get you out of here,” Adalard promised.

  He worked his way closer to the top of the cabinet. It would be difficult to move. Another cabinet was hovering precariously from a tangle of computer wires above Quill. A live power cable, torn from a conduit overhead, was sending down a rain of sparks. It snaked back and forth.

  He would have to be extremely careful. If he moved the cabinet on top of Quill too far, it could dislodge the cabinet hanging from the cables and wires, causing a domino effect that could crush them both—unless the live wires contacted the metal, then they would face electrocution. Neither mode of death sounded pleasant.

  “Ha’ven, I’ll lift the cabinet off his legs and you get him out of here,” Adalard said.

  Ha’ven eyed the crackling wires above their heads and grimly nodded. He knelt near Quill and waited for Adalard to get into position.

  “Ready,” Ha’ven stated with a sharp nod.

  Adalard took a deep breath, released it, and focused on the energy pulsing inside him. The cabinet and the one laying on top of it rose a few inches. Sweat beaded on his brow from a combination of the heat and the intense concentration of his focus. Ha’ven gripped Quill under his arms and pulled. The younger man smothered a cry of pain as Ha’ven shifted him clear of the cabinets. Adalard quickly released his grip on the large metal frame, and it dropped to the floor with a loud thump.

  “How bad is it?” Adalard asked, climbing over the cabinet and kneeling next to Quill.

  Quill looked up at him with pain-glazed eyes and a touch of satisfaction. “I may need to visit medical, but I’m not the only one who will need to go,” he said with a grimace.

  “What do you mean?” Ha’ven asked.

  Quill held up the torch he was still gripping. “I caught a glimpse of them. It was a Changeling. It flashed past me close enough that I was able to leave a nice, deep burn mark across their left arm that has to be hurting as much as I am right now,” he replied with a wry, pain-filled grin.

  Adalard smiled at the young technician and squeezed his shoulder in comfort. “You did good, Quill,” he said, looking up when the emergency response team entered.

  He stood up and stepped aside for the medics. Ha’ven walked over and stood next to him. He gave his brother a short nod and they exited the destroyed room.

  “We need to find out who did this,” Ha’ven stated the moment they were alone in the lift.

  He nodded in agreement. “Thanks to Quill, it shouldn’t be that difficult. I want to know if there is anyone else on board my ship who doesn’t belong.”

  “Emma is expecting a child,” Ha’ven quietly shared.

  Adalard started in surprise and studied Ha’ven’s worried expression. Adalard’s thoughts immediately moved to Samara.

  “Crom,” he growled into his communicator.

  “I’m behaving,” the Moniker immediately replied.

  He shook his head at Ha’ven. “There is a traitor on board the ship. It is a Changeling. Stay close to the women and keep them in the common areas,” he instructed.

  He winced when Crom’s deep snarl rang in his ear. “I’ll rip them apart if they try to harm the women,” he vowed.

  “Well, keep whoever it is alive long enough that we can interrogate them,” Ha’ven replied.

  “No guarantees,” Crom retorted.

  Adalard ended the link when the lift slowed. “I’ll warn medical to be on the lookout for anyone coming in with a burn on their arm and have them closely monitor their medical supplies. Have you heard back from Melek or Salvin yet?”

  “No. I’ll contact Melek again and meet up with you on the bridge,” Ha’ven answered.

  Adalard nodded and stepped out of the lift. He strode down the corridor and headed for the medical unit as his thoughts raced with a mixture of anger and fear. The thought that he had brought Samara into danger was weighing heavily on his mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Samara gave Emma a questioning look when Crom stopped another warrior from entering the small café-type lounge they had entered a few minutes earlier. She didn’t know what was going on, but something had clearly upset the man.

  “Do you have any idea what has his fur in a wad?” she murmured to Emma.

  Emma shook her head and glanced under her eyelashes at Crom. “No. Something is wrong. I can feel Ha’ven checking on me every few minutes.”

  Samara picked up the tray with the meal she had programmed in the replicator, sniffed it, and shrugged. It looked like a grilled cheese sandwich and fries. She wasn’t up to trying any alien replicated meat yet.

  “How do you know it is a bad sign?” she inquired.

  She followed Emma to a table near a window that looked out into space. It still felt surreal to be on an alien spaceship hurdling through space at an unbelievable speed. She placed the tray on the table and slid onto the bench seat.

  Emma smiled. “Because while Ha’ven may not be saying anything to me, I can sense he is troubled. It is the same sensation I felt when…”

  Samara paused, the sandwich halfway to her mouth, and shook it at Emma. “You are not going to leave me hanging, I hope.”

  Emma shook her head and smiled. “I guess that would be rude. I… was not well when I first met Ha’ven,” she began.

  Samara listened with fascination as Emma quietly shared the details of when she met Ha’ven. By the time Emma was finished, Samara had forgotten about her meal. Lifting a hand to her cheek, she brushed away a tear.

  Samara, you are well? Adalard’s deep voice echoed through her mind.

  Yeah. I think I’m going to like your brother, she replied.

  Adalard’s chuckle sent a flush of warmth through her. She looked out the window into deep space. Her nagging fear about whether she had made the right decision to give up everything she knew was slightly diminishing.

  “Adalard, meet me in the command office,” Ha’ven growled.

  “On my way,” Adalard replied.

  He exited the medical unit and strode down the corridor. In the hours since the explosion in the communications room, he had poured through the personnel data bank. There were a hundred and eighty personnel onboard, and he was no closer to finding the Changeling. No one had come to medical for burns, and the biometric scans were still showing all rostered personnel.

  He entered the bridge a few minutes later and crossed to the command room. He paused when he saw the holographic view of Arrow’s lab. One end was heavily damaged. Ha’ven turned when he entered and gave him a grim nod.

  “Have you heard from Arrow?” Adalard demanded.

  Ha’ven shook his head. “No, but I spoke with Melek. Mother has been taken,” he grimly replied.

  “What!” he hissed out in shock. “How? When? What happen
ed?” he demanded.

  Ha’ven waved at the hologram. “Melek—Father—said he and Arrow believe the explosion was a diversion. Mother was in the garden with Salvin when it happened. Salvin said a group of men dressed as royal guards appeared seconds after the explosion. They said Melek had sent them to escort Mother back to the palace. She hasn’t been seen since,” he stated.

  Adalard ran his hand along his scarred cheek. “Did Salvin recognize any of the men?” he asked.

  Ha’ven shook his head. “No, but Salvin hasn’t been as involved with the new recruits. They all wore the guard’s color, and he stated their auras reflected their positions,” he replied.

  “How is that possible?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know. Either they were members of the royal guard, or they have discovered another way to camouflage their identity,” Ha’ven replied.

  “Camouflage…,” he repeated thoughtfully.

  “What is it?” Ha’ven asked.

  He shook his head. “I’ve had no luck with the biometric scans. What if they were able to create a filter of some kind that could distort their aura?” he mused.

  Ha’ven frowned. “They would need a portable device as well,” he said.

  “Yes. When is the last time someone spoke with Arrow?” he asked.

  “Arrow disappeared into the archive with Salvin. Melek said that Arrow had mumbled something about phantoms and vanished a short time later,” Ha’ven responded.

  “Phantoms… that sounds an awful lot like our missing Changeling,” he commented.

  Ha’ven’s eyes widened at the thought. “We need to find out who it is. If they are using a device, it could lead us to whoever kidnapped Mother,” he said.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Adalard replied.

  “What’s the matter?” Emma asked.

  Samara gave Emma a rueful smile and shook her head. “Nothing,” she replied.

  “Do you want to check out the hologram deck?” Emma asked.