Roark (Women Of Earth Book 1) (15 page)

She could only think of one thing to say that might save them. “My name is Mira Donazetto and I am your First Commander’s woman.”

“Then we have completed both our missions. Open the door.”

If David hadn’t brought the Godan here, Roark’s search for her would have. Mira reached for her brother’s hand and her touch seemed to give him courage. David finally spoke up.

“You can have me, but leave my sisters alone,” he called out.

“We have our orders.”

A shoulder crashed against the door, splintering the wood of the jamb. Six helmeted Godan warriors swarmed into the apartment. Wynne screamed. The children cried out in terror. David shouted as he was grabbed and yanked to his feet. Mira fought the soldiers, pounding useless fists against their armor.

“Leave him alone. Can’t you see he’s hurt,” she shouted to no effect.

She was grabbed about the waist and dragged from her brother.

“Check the place for others or anything of interest.”

Two of the warriors moved to the bedrooms while two others began to search the kitchen and living areas.

“You slime pricked puss balls! You were told to find her, not give her the bloody shits. Damn piss swillers,” shouted a familiar voice from out in the hall. “Get your fucking hands off of her. She’s not a criminal.”

“What goes on here?” shouted another.

At the sound of Roark’s voice following Mohawk’s, Mira stopped fighting, but when she saw them enter the apartment, all hope was lost. Mohawk took one look at David and his face flared with menace. The look he turned to her made her heart sink. She’d thought he was a friend. Roark’s face looked menacing, too, but his look was directed only toward her.

“We came as ordered and saw the insurgent enter the building, sir,” the helmeted Third Station warrior explained.

Mira watched as the First Commander’s face became even more terrifying.

“This is your little brother?” Roark asked her, quite clearly, though his lips hardly moved over his clenched teeth.

Mira saw her brother as Roark must see him; almost six feet tall with what looked like a man’s day old growth of beard bristling through the grime on his face. David had been cultivating that growth for a month. He was thin, but his long arms looked ropy with muscle.

She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

“And these are the children you claimed were your sister’s?”

She nodded again. “Yes.”

“They’re ours. Please...” Wynne began to protest, but Roark’s look cut her off.

He turned those glaring eyes back to Mira. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice that none of them resembled your sister? Or that she would have been what, nine of your Earth years when she bore the eldest?”

She thought about reminding him that Godan children never looked like their mothers, either, but thought better of it. It wasn’t the same and both of them knew it. To imply anything different might make him angrier.

“Roark, please, you don’t understand,” Mira pleaded instead.

“They’re unregistered, aren’t they?” Ahnyis asked from the door. She sounded a little breathless from the climb.

Mason was right behind her. “Well, shit. Here’s a party I didn’t want an invitation to.”

“As I recall, you weren’t invited,” Roark snapped. “Did you know about this?” he asked Ahnyis.

“It’s what we were coming to tell you,” she replied. She looked past him to David and immediately went to the injured boy. “He needs medical attention. Let him go. Lay him down,” she ordered but it was only at Roark’s nod that the soldiers obeyed.

At Ahnyis’s words, Mira’s heart sank another notch. She’d thought of both Ahnyis and Mason as friends, too, and maybe Mason had tried to be one. Hadn’t he warned her to trust no one not even him? She was grateful, however, that David would get the medical attention she needed.

“First?” one of the searchers interrupted. He held out a unit a little larger than a mobile phone and a section of a street map torn from an old phone book.

Wynne uttered a small cry of dismay and Mira blanched. The Godan translator she kept hidden on the top shelf of the hallway closet would be another black mark against them.

“Where did you find it?”

“In his pocket,” the soldier answered.

Mira stepped forward. “It isn’t his. It’s mine.”

David tried to rise but Mason’s hands held him down. “Shut up, Mira. It’s mine. I found it.” He held his hand out to Roark. “You have to believe me. She doesn’t know anything about it. They aren’t a part of this. I made sure of it.”

Roark looked from brother to sister and seemed to come to a decision. He nodded sharply to David.

“David Donazetto, as First Commander of Sector Three, North American Continent, I’m taking you into custody for alleged crimes against a protected people and suspected conspiracy against the Galactic Confederation.” He pointed to three of his men. “Take him back to the base, to the clinic, and remain with him until I or my Prime relieves you. Arm your weapons and be prepared for a rescue attempt. No one, and I mean no one but myself or my Prime interrogates him. Only this man,” Roark gave a nod to Mason, “or the Healer Vochem may touch him. Am I understood?” He waited for their responses before continuing. “If the prisoner escapes or dies, you will be held responsible. There will be no excuse for failure.”

At the mention of his possible death, David paled even more.

“Roark, please, don’t do this. He’s just a boy,” Mira pleaded.

“A boy who reeks of prokash crystals,” he snarled, “Two warning towers were destroyed tonight with the use of those crystals. Two of my men were injured. Three humans died. Three more will likely die if Vochem can’t knit them back together.”

“I think it’s ammonium nitrate, Mira,” Mason clarified, “A fertilizer bomb.”

“No,” Wynne cried her disbelief. Her face paled and she swayed dangerously.

David’s face became a mask of fear. “No! That’s not what...”

“Take him away. Remember, no one speaks to him but me.”

“Roark, please,” Mira begged, as her brother was led from the room, but she wasn’t sure what she was begging for. Mercy? David was obviously involved, but she couldn’t believe he’d be a party to murder.

“I am the First Commander,” Roark responded to her plea and it was then Mira realized that all was lost. He was no longer Roark to her.

He pointed to the remaining soldiers. “You two, I want everything in this place gone over again for evidence and brought to the base. Everything goes to the clinic. It’s to remain under guard until I or my Prime say otherwise.” His finger swung to the third. “You’re with Sergeant Mohawk.” He nodded at Mason who had helped the faint Wynne to a chair and was forcing her head down to her knees and encouraging her to take deep breaths. “You handle her. Mohawk, stay with Ahnyis and see that this unregistered problem is taken care of.”

Lastly, his eyes locked on Mira’s. “You come with me.”

Mira clung to the children surrounding her. “Let me stay with them.”

The silver dragon that circled the edge of Roark’s ear began to glow. The emerald in its mouth became a piercing point of green light. Mira had seen a softer version of the glow the day before when he was angry at the failure of his troops, but assumed it was a trick the light. This was no trick. Bitsy noticed it, too.

“Your dragon’s burning,” she pointed out. “Does it hurt?”

Roark’s anger softened for a moment as he looked down at the child and the glow of the dragon subsided. “It does,” he told her, “It’s there to remind me to behave.”

“We have Wynne and Mira to do that,” Bitsy acknowledged as if a magic dragon earing was the most natural thing in the world. “I thought maybe it meant you were angry.”

“That too,” Roark admitted.

Bitsy turned her attention to Mira. “Maybe if you say you’re sorry, he won’t be angry anymore and his dragon will go to sleep.”

Roark’s eyes bored into Mira’s. “Wisdom from innocent tongues.”

“I have nothing to be sorry for. I want to stay here where I belong.”

He pulled her away from the children and once out of earshot, leaned in close to her face and whispered, “Time will tell about what you have to be sorry for and where you belong. Until then, you will do what you’re told. You will come with me. I command it, so it shall be, and this time, I will accept no argument and no disobedience. Defy me, Mira Donazetto, and I will have you trussed and delivered forcibly. That is not something you wish these children to see.”

“What will you do with them?”

“The children aren’t my concern. You are. That should be your first concern, too, since you have as much explaining to do as your brother.”

“Me? I haven’t...” Mira’s mouth snapped shut because she had. She’d lied from the very beginning.

Her mind began to assemble the pieces and realized how it must look to Roark. She’d learned the language from a translator stolen from a Godan warrior, a man who died in her care. What if they accused her of his murder? She’d wormed her way into a job where she was involved in the hiring of the locals who worked on the towers, locals who would have knowledge and access when the time came to set off the bomb. David was involved with whoever took those towers down. Did Roark think she was involved, too? She’d lied about the children and given him a false impression of Wynne. She’d portrayed her brother as a pouty child. The threat to her unregistered children would be enough for her to hate the Godan.

Did Roark think she hated him, too? Did he think she used his attraction to her as part of some nefarious plan? That hurt more than anything.

“Promise me that nothing will happen to Wynne or the children.”

“You are not in a position to bargain, Mira.”

“Please,” she begged, “Please don’t hurt them. I promise to answer anything you ask. I’ll do anything you want, accept any punishment you mete out, just don’t hurt my family.”

Roark looked back at Wynne crying softly with Ahnyis’s arm around her and at the children staring back at him. When his eyes returned to her, they glinted with victory.

“Done,” he said and said nothing more for the entire ride back to the base.

Chapter 17

Mira expected to be taken to an interrogation room or perhaps the cells below ground where Mason had been kept. She did not expect Roark to take her to his quarters. The door was barely closed before he started stripping off his shirt.

“Take off your clothes,” he said.

“Excuse me?” She had to have misheard. He couldn’t be thinking...

“Take off your clothes.”

He was! This was the last place she expected this night to go and she wasn’t going.

“No.”

Who or what did he think she was? She’d been fully prepared to answer all his questions and to do what she could to save her sister and the kids. She didn’t know what she could do for David, except plead for mercy, but whatever it was, it didn’t include being used as a sex toy for a man who refused to let her call him by his name.

He raised those winged brows at her refusal and the ridges in his forehead became more pronounced. “Yes. I command it, so it shall be.”

Mira’s temper rose to the challenge. “Listen up, First Commander. I said I’d answer your questions. I didn’t say anything about being your
beyah popo.
” She used the Godan word to make sure he understood.

“Did Mohawk teach you that or did you learn it from the translator you stole?”

“I didn’t steal it.”

Roark held up his hand. “Tell me after you’re naked.”

“Roark,” she drew the name out in complaint and then added a sarcastic, “Or should I call you First Commander.”

“Your Majesty will do. That’s what you call your kings, isn’t it? And you will take off your clothes. You gave your word, or did you lie about that too?”

Mira put her hands to her hips and jutted her chin. “I did not promise to run around naked for your entertainment.”

“Ah, but you did.” He quoted in a simpering voice, “I promise to answer anything you ask. I’ll do anything you want, accept any punishment you mete out, just don’t hurt my family.”

“Bastard. I didn’t mean sex.”

“Then you should have been more specific or have I misunderstood the term ‘anything’?” He rolled his hand in a forward motion indicating she should hurry it up. “I wish to experience another of your wet cleansings, a shower I think you called it.”

He knew damn well what she called it. He’d enjoyed every minute of it.

Roark’s eyebrows raised again. They hovered over the lascivious look in his emerald green eyes. “Or would you rather move on to punishment?”

Knowing she was defeated, but huffing to make sure he knew she wasn’t conceding gracefully, Mira tore her sweatshirt up over her head. She threw it aside and tossed her bra after it. She shimmied out of her old and worn jeans, taking her white cotton undies with the pin at the waist down with them. As humiliated as she was, she still had some pride.

“I hate you,” she said, but the effect of her venom was lost when she had to hop on one foot to extract the other from the bunched leg of the jeans.

When she regained her balance, she looked up to find him standing in front of her, eyeing her body with that damned sexy glint in his eyes and a half smile on his lips.

“I hate you,” she said again in case he missed it the first time, and just a little to remind herself that she did.

Roark moved in closer.

Mira tried to step away, but she was trapped in place by his hand at her back. The feel of that hand seared through the naked skin it touched. Her breasts became weighty with his nearness. Her nipples tightened with the heat of him.

Roark saw the reaction and flicked a taut nipple with his finger. She hated him even more for being the cause of this betrayal of her body. To avoid plastering her nose against his chest she was forced to look up.

“Say it again,” he ordered.

She couldn’t look into his eyes, couldn’t let him see what was in her own. She turned her head to the side and, choosing cheek over nose, she pressed her face against him. Beneath the warmth of his solid chest, she could feel his heart beating.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“And now you have lied to me again, Miramiku.” Roark took her hand in his and started for the bedroom. “Come, let’s see if your shower skills have improved.”

“Improved?” she asked indignantly as she was dragged along behind him. “I didn’t hear any complaints from you last night.”

He looked back at her and smiled, but the smile wasn’t a pleasant one. “I didn’t own you last night.”

Mira’s whole body stiffened. Her face hardened into an outraged mask and her voice became laser sharp. “You don’t own me tonight, either, and you never will. Been there, done that, not going there again. Just ask the last guy who tried it. And if you’re talking the real thing, think again. I happen to know the Godan don’t keep slaves and even if they did, you wouldn’t.” She tried to pull away from his grasp.

Roark gave her hand a yank that sent her flying into his chest. His smile was gone. “Wouldn’t I, Miramiku? I am a warrior without honor, a man not to be trusted, an alien creature no different from the Hahnshin. I would do anything that pleased me no matter how base.”

“That’s not true,” she cried without thinking.

“It must be. Why else would you let me think your sister was a whore rather than a good woman who cares for abandoned children while you risk your life to feed them? What did you think I would do, roast the babies over an open fire and eat them?” He held her chin between thumb and forefinger and growled into her face. “Knowing he was walking a dangerous path, you led me to believe your brother was a young and petulant boy. Had you trusted me with the truth, I might have been able to interfere before it was too late. Or did you know what he was doing? Maybe he had your approval.”

“No, please, it wasn’t like that.” She put her hands to his chest to plead with him, but he pushed her away. She stumbled back and fell onto the bed where she curled into a ball, afraid of his anger.

“Wasn’t it? How would I know? You couldn’t even tell me the truth about where you lived. Yes, I know that, too, and do you know how I found out?” He turned away and walked to the window where he stood, staring out into the night. “I came back here to find you gone. The first bomb went off and I thought of nothing but you; not my men, not the base, and not the damned Hahnshin. Just you, Mira Donazetto. I raced to that address you gave as your home. Only one wall was left standing. That building fell with the first blast and I thought you fell with it. I thought my heart was crushed beneath that pile of brick and metal.”

Mira’s fear of his anger turned to fear of something else. He’d gone looking for her out of concern for her safety. He thought his heart was crushed. Now that he knew that wasn’t true, he thought she’d done much worse. She pushed herself up to look at him.

“How did you find me?” she whispered, amazed that he’d still come looking for her.

“Ollie. That’s your driver’s name, isn’t it? The one who takes you to and from work every day? Mohawk hired him to watch out for you and see to your safety,” he told her, still sounding angry. “The man told us where you lived. Foolish of me not to have checked beforehand since I already knew you lied about other things.”

“I never meant to,” she began, but stopped before she lied to him yet again. She hung her head in misery. “I’m sorry, Roark, sorry about everything. My heart said to trust you, but I couldn’t trust my heart. It’s been wrong before. I wanted to trust you, but I didn’t know if I could. I couldn’t take the risk.” Mira turned away and wiped at her eyes with the bed covers. “You don’t understand.”

The mattress sagged as Roark settled his weight behind her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her body into his.

“Then make me understand, miku Mirasha,” he whispered into her hair. “Tell me the truth. All of it. From the beginning.”

All of it. From the beginning. Where was the beginning? The day her parents died? Or was it long before?

“After my parents were killed, I was left in charge,” she said. “I’m not just the clever one or the practical one. I’m the strong one and the oldest. It’s always been my job to take care of the others. While Wynne was numb with mourning and my brother cried for what he’d lost, I gathered up what little was left. I found a place across town, as far away from the memory of that day as I could. That’s the address where you went and that’s where Wynne started collecting our kids.

“You don’t know what it was like, Roark, watching my sister go through the motions of living, not talking, not smiling. Bitsy was the first and I knew from the moment I saw Wynne smile that losing that little girl would kill her. She kept bringing them home and I couldn’t say no. That meant they were mine to take care of, too. Wynne’s the soft and loving one. I’m the one who puts food on the table.

“Some of the neighbors threatened to turn us in. The kids were unregistered, but they were ours, so we moved and moved again and again. I never reregistered. I was afraid they’d come and take the kids. I taught them to be careful. I taught them where to hide. I taught them how to scavenge when we weren’t getting enough in rations anymore.”

“Registration is for ordering ration supplies, Mira, and for digging through the rubble for the missing.” Roark’s arms tightened around her when she stiffened at his words. “We don’t randomly take children away. We open special schools, homes for those who have no one to care for them. I don’t know your word for it.”

“Orphanages. Where are they, Roark? Why won’t you tell us where they are? Why are these children never seen again? Why do you send armed soldiers to sweep them up off the streets like criminals?”

“We don’t do that to children, Mira.”

Mira rolled to her hands and knees, and scrambled to the head of the bed, cowering away from this man she didn’t know. How could he be so angry with her for lying when he was lying to her now?

“You do! I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I thought it had stopped. Ahnyis swore you were a good man and I believed her when the raids stopped. But they didn’t stop, did they? Those soldiers sweeping the streets last night were Godan. So don’t tell me you don’t do that.”

“They were not my men,” he insisted.

“They were! They wore Godan armor. The children call them helmet heads because they never see their faces. Do you know how frightening that is to a child? How frightening it is for all of us? They called for Matias by name. They wanted Dorrie, too. They had other plans for her. That’s what they said, Roark. What kind of plans could they have for a fourteen year old girl? Is that old enough for your bride market? Or are the young ones used for something worse?” She was sobbing openly not only for the children but for her own broken dreams. Tears poured down her cheeks unchecked. “Everyone knows about it. They have from the beginning. Miklos knew about it, too, and knew it was wrong. Wynne swears that’s why he had to die.”

Mira slapped her hand over her mouth as if she was trying to keep the words from flowing out of it. She knew the gesture was too late, and the look of fear that came with the knowledge tore at Roark’s conscience.

From the moment they’d entered his quarters his intent was to throw her off guard and keep her there. Smile one minute, show anger the next. Never let her know what was in his mind or where he was headed. He wanted her in a position where she couldn’t think, couldn’t plan what to say or do. If he was to help her and her family, he needed the truth and not some polished version of it. What he hadn’t considered was how much pain telling the truth would cause her.

She’d said he wouldn’t understand and she’d been right. Roark had known fear, all warriors did, but he’d never known the kind of fear Mira and her family had lived under for the past six years. To him, fear was a good thing. It coursed through the blood and made soldiers hypersensitive to the sights and sounds around them. It added strength to their skills with weapons. He’d always defined courage as the honing of fear into a sharp and useful tool with which to fight. Training was the wheel on which the tool was sharpened.

Without weapons or training, Mira had been thrown into a different kind of battle, a relentless and never ending one and her courage came not from using fear, but from keeping it under a tight, but fragile control. He was shattering that control. Watching it happen was shattering him, too.

He wanted to reach for her, to hold her, and kiss away her tears. He wanted to tell her she no longer needed to be the strong one, the practical one, the one who stood against the fear. He would serve as her shelter and her strength. She need only be the loved one, his loved one.

But he couldn’t do or say these things. He was the First Commander. It was his duty to discover the truth and her role in it, regardless of his feelings for her. No blood marking he’d ever earned had caused him this much pain.

“Who was this Miklos and who killed him?” he asked, forcing all emotion from his face.

“A Godan warrior, a new recruit, but I didn’t know that then. I only knew that he was young.”

Roark watched as more tears poured from beneath her closed lids. Those tears tore at his heart, but it was worse, so much worse when she opened her eyes to him and he saw the agony in them. He’d seen that look in soldier’s eyes before. He knew what she was about to say.

“I killed him, Roark. It was my decision not to take him to the base. He begged us not to. Those were the first words I learned in Godan; please don’t take me back and I figured them out by the way he gripped my arm and the desperation in his eyes when he said them. He was afraid to go back and that was my excuse, but it wasn’t my reason. I was afraid of what they’d do to us when they found us carting him through the streets, a soldier riddled with bullets from a very human weapon.”