Ardor's Leveche (18 page)

“His own. If he keeps the Storians and the Coalition at each other’s throats until he can find the right man to sit the throne at Vespertine, he will have accomplished his goal. He would want a puppet he can control. Even as flighty as Manuel was, he would have made a good king. He would not have been so easily manipulated.”

“I believe you are correct.”

“My lady is more than willing to see her assignment to its conclusion. Now, more than ever.”

The Burgon whistled. “Well, that answers my question on how Alejandro can be eliminated, but if she was mine, I’d be worried sick about her safety, Gabe.”

Gabriel squared his shoulders—puffing up with pride. “She, too, is a Reaper. She’ll be hard to take out.”

It was the Burgon’s time to drop his jaw. “Another female Reaper?”

“There is another?” Ardor asked eagerly.

“Princess Davan of Amhantar,” the Burgon replied. “She was Dr. Davan Shanahan before Joining with Prince Cair Ghrian.”

“I’ve heard of her! Who turned her and why?”

“Tariq,” Gabriel said. “He did so to keep her from dying.”

“So your plan is to allow your lady to do the job Command assigned her. What can I do to help?”

“I know you have patrol ships in the vicinity.”

“Little good they did either Rabushu or Amerigen,” the Burgon stated. “We were lured to Sauria, trying to keep that Storian hothead Sanchez from setting up a base camp there among the skinks.”

“He tried that on R-9 but we have our own version of the Amhantarean net here.

No one lands unless I approve it. Getting off this world is far easier than getting on it.”

“That Amhantarean invention has certainly been a help and a hindrance. Aduaidh Prime now has a version of it, as well.” The Burgon sat back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach.

“I just need you to make sure your patrols look the other way when Ardor escapes.

She’ll be flying a Fiach-class runabout. The ship will be the
Guerrero
.”

The Burgon rubbed the pad of his thumb over his lower lip. “I can arrange that, Gabe. Am I to understand one of your ships will be close on her tail?”

“Aye,” the Reaper replied. “The
Rebelde
will be the one dogging her and I’ll be flying it.”

Ardor frowned. “Is that necessary? I’ve seen the chances you take when you fly, warrior.”

“It’s necessary for Diego Sanchez’s crew to believe I’m trying to get you back,”

Gabriel said. “If I know him, he’ll get between me and you to give you time to outrun 100

Ardor’s Leveche

me. He’ll intercept you further out and upon seeing who you are will take you to my father.”

“Will Sanchez try to bring you down?”

“He was a good friend of Manuel’s. I can’t believe he sanctioned what my father did,” Gabriel replied. “I can’t guarantee he won’t fire on me, though. I’ve a price on my head.”

“We’ll run interference for you if Sanchez decides to take you out,” the Burgon suggested. “A well-placed shot across the bow should bring him up short.”

“It might be a good idea to fire a shot across my bow as well, Ry, for appearance’s sake.”

“I’ll instruct them accordingly,” the Burgon assured him. “You have no qualms that her cover has been blown?”

“It’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Ardor said. “This war has gone on long enough. It needs to end.”

“I truly admire brave women,” the Burgon complimented her.

“So we can count on you?” Gabriel asked.

“Of course! If there is anything you need my help with, just ask.”

“Pray to Alel my lady returns safely to me,” the Reaper asked.

“That goes without saying, old friend,” came the vow.

101

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“You’ll watch your back,” Ardor said as she climbed aboard the
Guerrero
. She was wearing a ripped prison jumpsuit instead of the black Reaper uniform Gabriel had fashioned for her.

“I’ll be too busy watching yours, wench,” Gabriel replied. He was on the docking bay catwalk, looking up at his woman who was paused in the hatchway of the Fiach runabout.

Ardor threw herself at him, never doubting he would catch her. Though he staggered a bit, he clasped her to him—their mouths locked together in a fiery kiss—his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Breva stood nearby, turning his attention from the embracing couple to glare at any of the workers who might have halted their labors to stare at the prince and his Coalition lover.

Breaking the contact first, Ardor laid her head on his shoulder and shivered. She feared for his life even though she knew he was a master flyer. He took chances she’d rather he not, but it would be useless to make him promise to be careful. He would do as he pleased.

“When the job is done, get out of the palace as quickly as you can. Only the royal family knows of the hidden passageway in the throne room. Make sure no one sees you enter it. Stay there until I come for you,” Gabriel said. “I won’t be any longer than I have to. Once my people know I am still alive, I doubt I’ll have any problems assuming the throne.”

“Provided our father’s enemies don’t take exception to you ruling them,” Breva reminded him.

“Our people are tired of war,” the Reaper said. “Those who would continue on with this lunacy need to be weeded out and destroyed. Only a madman would want to keep on.”

“Agreed, but we need to be very careful who we trust.”

Ardor’s arms were tight around Gabriel’s neck. She never wanted to break the connection for she was afraid one or both of them would die during this mission.

Having found what she knew was her true help-meet, she did not want to lose him.

“I’ll be all right, Ardie,” he said, using her nickname for the first time. “Just take care of yourself.”

She lifted her head and looked up at him. There was a gentle smile on his chiseled lips and she ached to kiss him one last time. She knew if she did, she would only be prolonging their departure.

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Ardor’s Leveche

Reading her thoughts, Gabriel put her from him, reaching up to take her wrists in his hands and draw her arms down. “Be safe, Milady,” he asked, bringing her hands together and kissing her fingertips. He stepped back, letting go of her. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Without another word, he turned and headed for the
Rebelde
, the Reaper didn’t look back. He boarded the Fiach-class runabout and the door closed behind him immediately.

“Be careful, Ardor,” Breva said, his throat closing. “I don’t want to lose a sister-in-law before I get to have my first Joining dance with her.”

Ardor’s smile was tremulous as she reached out her hand to shake Breva’s. “If something happens to me…” she began but the Storian major was shaking his head.

“Nothing is going to happen, wench. The gods speed you on your way.” That said, he stepped back, snapped to attention and saluted her.

Feeling a lump rising in her throat, Ardor returned his salute and turned to climb into the
Guerrero
. She could feel moisture gathering on her cheeks and knew it wasn’t from the heat.

Moving the
Guerrero
into position, pointing it down the long upward slanted rampway whose entrance was a good mile from the rebel’s command base deep in the heart of Mount Anthus, she began taxiing to the takeoff platform that would launch her into the sky.

Breva watched from the command room as first the
Guerrero
then the
Rebelde
shot out of the tunnel hidden deep underground. The protective membrane that covered access to the tunnel was blown to pieces as Ardor flew from the subterranean passageway—giving anyone monitoring Riezell Nine’s surface a good look at her escape attempt. Half a minute behind her was the
Rebelde
, engines screaming as the pilot tore after their escaping prisoner.

The plan had been simple enough once Ardor took to the skies. She would begin transmitting on the closed channel Bowen had instructed her to use once her mission was completed. There was to be no communication from her to Gabriel’s ship.

“Command Central, this is Kahn. Do you read?” she yelled as though out of breath.

At first there was no answer and she was too preoccupied with trying to evade the ship close on her tail to repeat the hail. The Reaper’s imperious voice came over the Vid-Com with a lethal tone of malice hardening his deep voice.

“Stand to,
Guerrero
!” the Reaper demanded. “You don’t stand a chance of outrunning me.”

Ardor smiled and banked the Fiach-class runabout hard to starboard. She’d show Gabriel Leveche he wasn’t the only master flyer in the galaxy.

“Command Central, this is Major Ardor Kahn. Do you read?” she repeated, taking great delight in leading the
Rebelde
through a meteorite field. “Come in Command Central!”

103

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

It was Bowen’s voice that broke the silence inside Ardor’s ship. “Kahn, are you all right?” he barked.

“I’ve got a bitch of a headache, Sir, but other than that, I’m fine. Can you get that bastard behind me off my tail?”

“
Bastard?”
the Reaper sent her telepathically.
“That’s no way to talk about your future
husband, wench.”

“We haven’t received any intel from you in days,” Bowen said, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Ardor put irritation in her tone. “If you’re asking about the implant you didn’t tell me about, the rebels deactivated it.”

There was a long pause then Bowen spoke calmly, soothingly. “We don’t have any ships in the immediate area and we’re picking up a Storian vessel headed your way.

Can you make it to Rabushu? It’s in Coalition hands now.”

“Negative,” Ardor told him. “I don’t have enough fuel for that.”

She heard Bowen swear. “Hang tight, Kahn. Let me see what I can do.”

“
Let him get in touch with Sanchez
,” the Reaper transmitted to her.

“You’d best hurry, Sir,” Ardor said, pretending to pant. “That damned Savidos is close on my heels!”

“Savidos is the one following you?” Bowen asked, excitement rife in his voice.

“He swore he’d never let me go.”

“
Damned straight
,” the Reaper said with a chuckle.

“We’ll blow his ass out of the sky!” Bowen swore.

“He can try.”

Ardor’s attention was caught by a warcruiser speeding toward her on the starboard side.

“That’s Sanchez
,
”
the Reaper told her.

Amazed at how careless Bowen had become, Ardor heard him hailing the Storian ship, ordering them to blow up the Fiach following her ship.

“It’s Prince Gabriel!” Bowen crowed. “Shoot him down. Shoot him down!”

The hairs on the back of Ardor’s neck lifted as a shot passed between her and Gabriel. It came nowhere close to the Reaper’s ship but it turned the Riezell Guardian’s bowels watery with fear.

“Shoot him down!” she heard Bowen screaming. “Shoot him down!”

A very calm voice came over the Vid-Com. “I will not do that, Colonel. He is still my prince.”

“Atta boy, Sanchez!”
Ardor sent to Gabriel.

“Your prince has a bounty on him or do you not know this?” Bowen sneered.

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Ardor’s Leveche

“Prince Gabriel and I attended the academy together, Colonel. I have never believed him guilty of treason and until I can look him in the eye and have him tell me he was justly accused of that crime, I will give him the benefit of the doubt,” Sanchez stated.

“Thank you, Sanchez.” The Reaper’s voice cut over Bowen’s sputter of anger.

“The woman is a Cenguvian prisoner of the Coalition, Sanchez. She is not to slip into Leveche’s hands again. Is that clear?” Bowen snarled.

“The woman belongs to me, Diego,” the Reaper said.

“In your dreams, Savidos!” Ardor yelled. “Get me out of here, Colonel! Please! I’d rather die than have him touch me again!”

“If you have hurt my woman, Leveche…” Bowen yelled.

“Your woman?” the Storian prince questioned. “She was never your woman and when I get her back, I intend to put the wench in my harem!”

“Like hell you will,”
Ardor said sweetly.

“Turn back, Your Grace,” Sanchez said in a firm voice. “The woman will be taken into custody.”

“I think not!” the Reaper said.

Another shot was fired over the bow of the
Rebelde
. The shockwave hit Ardor’s ship and it was all she could do to hold the runabout steady.

“Break off, Your Grace,” Sanchez said. “The next shot will not miss.”

“Just shoot the son of a bitch out of the sky,” Bowen demanded.

There was a long moment of silence then the Reaper spoke in a deadly, level voice.

“This isn’t over, Bowen. One day you and I will have a long talk about the day you forced me into that fire pit on
an Éigipt
.”

Ardor saw the
Rebelde
veering off to larboard and she breathed a sigh of relief. She continued on course until a shot was fired across her own bow.

“Stand to, wench,” Sanchez ordered. “And prepare to be boarded.”

“I won’t go back to that prison!” she shouted. “I will not be at the beck and call of Coalition cocks ever again!”

Ardor heard Bowen’s guffaw.

“Keep her there for me, Captain Sanchez,” Bowen said. “I’ll send a runabout to—”

“I will be taking the wench with me to Vespertine, Colonel,” Sanchez cut him off.

“It will be up to King Alejandro to decide her fate.”

“By all means,” Bowen was too quick to say. “Just let him know I will be more than happy to ransom the lady. She pleasured me greatly.”

“Against my will!” Ardor sneered. “I’d rather die than have you put hands to me again!”

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you,” Bowen suggested and she could hear a trace of annoyance in his smooth tones.

105

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“I am a Storian sympathizer, Captain Sanchez. You can’t turn me back over to the Coalition! I am asking for political asylum!”

“That will be up to my king, wench,” Sanchez said. “Do as I have instructed and no harm will come to you.”