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Authors: Jennifer Leeland

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BOOK: DarkRevenge
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“Let’s hear the plan,” Tory said.

Johan clicked a few buttons and the screens showed three
different locations. One was the Great Hall, bustling with visitors. The second
was an underground maze of tunnels. The third was the shuttle bay.

“I have two hundred of my people lined up for today’s
fireworks. Commander Zeerah will still make her appearance at the Shoshani
celebration tonight.” He shot her a quick glance. “Gregor will make an attempt.
My men will stop it. Unfortunately, Commander Zeerah, we need Jezar and Tory to
confront Ena and Kyler.”

“Why?” Tesia demanded.

“Because Jezar can cloud our approach. We might be able to
get the vials with a minimum of bloodshed.” He pointed to the shuttle bay. “The
underground tunnels end here, Commander Ingle. When you’ve obtained the vials
that are in the guarded safe, our men will cover your escape.” He touched each
of them with a serious gaze. “If the Gregor family is distracted by Commander
Zeerah and my men at the Great Hall, they won’t attack Ena. Right now, Ena
plans to begin a civil war.” He held Alex’s gaze. “I plan to stop her.”

“All right,” Tory said. “Let’s discuss the details and
synchronize our watches.”

* * * * *

The Great Hall teemed with familiar faces but Alex studied
each of them more carefully than she ever had before. All her life, she’d taken
so much for granted. The aristocracy had always been the bedrock of their
society, but maybe they’d been inflexible. Teran One prejudices had allowed an
Ardasian to manipulate them, to create the crisis that now loomed. The rigid
adherence to bloodlines, family and nepotism had fermented unrest and
resentment. It made Teran One easy pickings for someone like Kyler.

The Hall had been decorated with banners, each family crest
represented even if the bloodline had died out or, in Tory’s case, been
disgraced. The First Six were the biggest tables. The Stender table, empty and
sad, dominated the front of the hall, its eagle crest hanging over the rest of
the tables. The Gregor table, moved from previous Shoshani celebrations, now
resided directly beside the Stender’s place. Eight older men and one very old
woman sat at this table, their eyes shifty and wary. On the opposite side of
the Stender table was Alex’s place, the Zeetah on her crest crouching as if
ready to spring. An apt position.

She and ten of the rebels resided at the Zeerah table. Her
contingent included Foche and Tesia. Alex enjoyed explaining the various
rituals to Tesia, who seemed enthralled by the spectacle.

The remaining three of the First bloodlines were lined up
below them, the Solly table populated by lesser members of that family. Alex
pointed out each name and told stories for each bloodline, a welcome
distraction from the tension in the other members of their group.

When she reached the Ingle table she told the story of the
first Ingle and
Saria
contracts. Tesia stared at her. “You mean, it’s
not servitude?”

Alex smiled. “Don’t misunderstand me. In barbaric hands
it’s…well, barbaric. In some instances, such as Anton Gregor’s various
marriages, it’s just a legalized form of rape. But the alternative for some of
the families is extinction.” She studied the brutal Gregor, who had just “lost”
his fourth wife. “The Gregors have always tended to use bloodshed to gain
positions in power. After all, it was their bloodline nearly destroying the
Solly line that caused the
Saria
contracts to be created in the first
place.” She stared at the Ingle crest. The comet, a bright orange and red, shot
across their banner. “Our people are brutal, Tesia. But we are deeply loyal to
our families. It is both our blessing and our curse.” She thought about the Old
Earth plague and how her genetics played such a huge role in what was
happening.

“Look alive, boys,” one of the rebels murmured. All the
Gregors stood and men were weaving their way through the great hall. Violence was
one cough away from exploding.

So intent on the Gregors and the men approaching from the
back of the Great Hall, Alex didn’t hear the approach of men from behind her
until it was too late.

A flash, the familiar agonizing buzz over her skin as the
stunner slammed into her and then, nothing.

* * * * *

The entrance to the tunnel yawned like a gaping mouth and
its dark recesses made Tory nervous. He didn’t like the turn of events. Alex
was too far away. He and Jezar followed Johan into a maze of darkness. And
somewhere out there was an Ardasian who had the ability to see the future.

It didn’t look so good for their side.

The men with them were battle-hardened rebels and Jezar
seemed fine with all of them. But Tory’s gut churned. He didn’t like it at all.

They crept along the hollowed-out passageways, the sounds of
the city above them completely muffled. The darkness grew cold and the
glowsticks each man had, cast an eerie shadow over the tunnel walls.

Can you feel the other Ardasian?
he asked Jezar.

No. He’s clouding his men too. I don’t like this.
For
Jezar to be disturbed as well only increased Tory’s discomfort. It had seemed
so simple. Distract Ena and the Gregors with Alex. Get the vials. Abduct
Celeste.

But somehow, he wasn’t sure it was going to be easy at all.

“It’s in here.” Johan led them to a smaller corridor off the
larger tunnel. At the end of the corridor, lit by a single light, was a steel
door. Johan stepped forward eagerly and pulled it open.

Too late, Tory realized it was all too easy. Where were the
guards? Where was the Ardasian?

As if in answer to his question, a pain in his back ripped
through him. A stunner. Cries all around him told Tory they’d been trapped.

And then it all went black.

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

Cold. It was so fucking cold. Tory tried to move and found
his feet and hands bound in metal. He blinked and tried to clear his blurry
vision.

Then he wished he hadn’t.

On the floor in front of him, Jezar was slumped in a heap,
restrained, possibly dead. Beside him, Johan, also trussed up against the wall,
seemed as if he was still unconscious. Across the small room, Tesia and Alex,
both completely naked, were bound the same way he was. Despair flooded his
soul. He had failed. They had failed. And now Alex would pay the price.

Where were Foche and the other men?

The door opened and a tall man, blond, smiling, with sharp
green eyes and a smooth gait, strode into the room. This must be Kyler.

In his hand, he had something Tory recognized and his
stomach flipped. Shit, not that thing. He’d seen one on Teran Four up close and
personal. A Drav. A long stick that sent shards of pain shooting through one’s
body but did no physical damage. Teran Four specialized in causing pain without
damaging the victim’s ability to procreate.

“Well, well, well,” Kyler said, his voice smooth. “Look what
I caught in my little web.”

No one responded.

He reached out to Alex.
Are you okay? What happened?

We were ambushed at the Great Hall. He must have known
what the plan was all along.

“Indeed I did,” Kyler said, as if Tory and his mate had
spoken aloud. He gritted his teeth. Shit. This asshole was able to read them,
listen to their thoughts.

Kyler grinned at him. “What a simplistic view you have of my
power.” He strode over to Tory. “I can do much more than that.” He stroked the
Drav, his long fingers caressing it like a pet. “I can read your fears, your
weaknesses.” He studied Tory from head to toe. “Why anyone related to me would
mate with you is beyond me, but that’s beside the point.”

He was enjoying this. Center stage, the great performer
finally getting the spotlight. “I find it amusing that my brother,” he spat the
word, “decided to try to stop me.” He kicked Jezar and Tesia cried out.

“You see, my little half sister, you are ignorant of my true
power.” Casually, he placed the end of the Drav against Tory’s hipbone. “I can
see into your very soul.”

A jolt careened through Tory. It ripped away everything but
the pain. His dick felt like it was on fire. Shooting agony tore along his
veins, making him convulse. Every thought bled away. He was vaguely aware of
trying to breathe. It felt like something was burning his cock off and kicking
his balls against the wall. Nothing else penetrated his mind. Even though he
knew it was all nerve induced, he couldn’t grasp the thought long enough to
relax his tensed muscles. Someone was grunting and he realized it was him. The
pain escalated again and his hoarse shout was drowned out in his ears by the
rush toward oblivion. He lost control of his bladder and the pain increased as urine
slid down his legs and dampened his pants.

When it stopped, Tory almost sobbed in relief and then
shame. He knew Kyler had intended just that. He’d left Tory’s pants on so that
he would be humiliated by his own weakness.

Fuck him
, his mate’s voice said in his head and Tory
lifted his gaze to meet hers.
He’s wrong. You are strong. Stronger than he
is. He can only inflict pain on you because he’s incapable of joy
.

Satisfaction shot through Tory as Kyler’s eyes narrowed in
displeasure at what Alex had said. He was still breathing heavily. He met
Kyler’s gaze, his shame gone, his pride intact. He might die, but he wouldn’t
die crawling.

Kyler smiled.

Shit. What now?

The Ardasian opened the door. Foche came in. Only it didn’t
look like Foche anymore. His brown eyes were blank, empty.

Tesia shouted, “Malak!”

The blank eyes swerved to look at Tesia and Tory shuddered.
Like the vids on Ardasia of the plague victims, Foche wasn’t there anymore.

“Malak is mine now, Tesia.” Kyler licked his lips. “And
you’re quite wrong, my dear Alex. I can experience joy. Nothing will give me
more pleasure than watching Malak rape you.”

* * * * *

Once, when Alex had been down in a foxhole on Teran Five,
she had spent a night certain that the next morning would bring her capture by
Teran Four. In the aggressive invasion, Teran Four hadn’t been too concerned
about wartime etiquette. She and the three men in that hole with her knew what
it meant. In war, rape of women was common enough, but Teran Four took it to a
whole new level. Female combatants were repeatedly raped by Teran Four
soldiers, the brutalization recorded and publicized. It was their duty,
according to their fucked-up way of life.

She told the man she trusted the most in the foxhole to put
a bullet in her brain. That man had been Tory. Kyler had probably gleaned this
from Tory and was using it against her.

With every ounce of energy, she faced her fear. She poured
strength into a wall, trying to block Kyler from her thoughts. Would this be
bad? Hell yeah. Foche was taking off his clothes, his cock huge, just like the
rest of him. But worse would be Tory’s agony if she showed any sign she gave a
shit. Worse would be Kyler’s satisfaction if she broke.

She wasn’t going to break.

Kyler’s smile wasn’t helping. “It’s too bad, really,” the
man said. “He wants to rape her,” he hand waved toward Tesia. “He’s very put
out that she seems to prefer my brother over him.” He kicked the prostrate form
of Jezar. “But I’ve promised him you, Alex.”

Alex’s chin rose. Naked, pinned to a wall, helpless, she
couldn’t stop what was going to happen here but she sure as hell wasn’t going
to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. Of course, he could read it in
her mind, but she layered her thoughts with her love for Tory and her duty to
Teran One. She wasn’t going to let despair take over.

Inside her mind, she could feel him probing, seeking to raid
her thoughts. What she didn’t understand was what he wanted from them. All he
had to do was kill them. End game, he wins. Why did he have them captive?

“Do you know how I’ve controlled him?” Kyler grinned now and
studied his naked slave. Foche stared at Alex, with drool dripping from his
mouth, something hungry and feral on his face. Kyler nodded. “The mistake you
and your friends made was thinking the plague turned humans into mindless
zombies.” He met her gaze with a wicked, gleaming gaze. “The plague is so much
more. My brother knew. You see, it kills humans slowly, but while they’re
dying, someone like me can completely control their minds.” Kyler strode over
to Tesia. He laid the Dav against her pale skin. Alex gritted her teeth. Kyler
only zapped her briefly, but Tesia’s scream echoed in the room and her skin
turned an angry red. “But some of you have the gene to resist the plague. Like
you,” he sneered at Tesia and released her. He crossed to Johan and stuck him
with the Dav. The man didn’t cry out but agony crumpled his features. “And
you.”

He released Johan from the Dav and turned back to Foche. “He
doesn’t.”

Fear shot through Alex. Kyler had released the plague. Teran
One was going to become the wasteland she’d seen in the vision. She gulped for
breath.

Kyler clearly caught her fear because he grinned at her.
“The ones who don’t have the gene are mine, Alex. They all belong to me. All I
have to do is send the word ‘kill’ to their pathetic minds and they’ll tear
anyone who isn’t infected limb from limb.” He laughed and it had a high, shrill
sound. He glanced at Johan and shook his head. “I’m afraid your friends who
were holding Pulzer are dead now, torn apart like raw meat. He wasn’t too
careful, I’m afraid.”

His silver eyes flashed, but Johan said nothing. Alex had to
think and think quickly. Mind control. After she and Tory had bridged, she’d
realized Jezar hadn’t been able to poke around her mind anymore. Somehow, the
action of connecting with Tory had enhanced her mental capabilities. She’d
always thought the Old Earth plague turned people into zombies but if something
was controlling them, then perhaps she had a defense.

BOOK: DarkRevenge
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