Warrior Rogue (The Drift Lords Series) (11 page)

He was taking too long to answer. The general jabbed him again, and rational thought fled in the explosion of pain that followed.

“I don’t know,” he said between gritted teeth. “I’ve lost contact with them. I thought they must all be dead.”

“With our jamming signal deactivated, your ship sensors can detect our portals. Is that why you’re here? To destroy this gateway?” Morar didn’t even give him a chance to answer. He stabbed the stick into Paz’s side.

Even while a cry escaped his lips, a surge of triumph bloomed inside him. So this island
did
harbor a portal to the Trollek dimension.

“That’s not why I came here. When I was tossed into the pit back in Orlando, I must have fallen through a spontaneous rift in the space-time continuum. I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was in Japan.”

He tried to lean upward but the strap across his chest was too rigid. “Listen, General, these random tears are increasing. By keeping the rifts open, you’re causing the dimensional drift to widen. The energy blast that will result from the buildup of cors particles will destroy everything, not just our world. If you believe your people will be spared, you’ve been fooled.”

The general smacked him across the face. “Our king says we will be protected. Are you calling our liege a liar?”

“I’m just saying…if that voice King Jorg hears in his head has promised him that his kingdom will survive the mass destruction, it’s lying.”

General Morar glanced at the other officer in the room and the enlisted soldiers guarding the door, then he leaned over Paz. “What do you know about that voice?”

Paz smirked. “Some say the demon Loki is manipulating your king. Loki wants to be released from his underground prison. In destroying our multiverse, he gains his freedom and his revenge against the gods who put him there.”

Morar straightened, his mouth tightening. “I do not believe such nonsense. Our liege commands us to regain lands that are rightfully ours.”

“So why does the prophecy matter to him?”

“You’re not the one asking questions here.” The general jabbed the stick into him repeatedly until shadows danced about the room and Paz’s eyes rolled up in his head. “How did you come to be on this island?”

“I crashed here in an aircraft. You should know. Didn’t you send those soldiers onboard to capture us?” Paz’s voice came out a dry croak.

“Only the woman. We didn’t realize you’d be aboard. Were you sent to protect her?”

Paz shook his head from side to side. His back hurt from lying supine, and his nerves screamed from abuse. He needed to change his position. Squirming, he grunted with frustration at being strapped down.

“You must have met up with the woman somewhere. Did you trace her through her watch?”

“I don’t know what you mean. When I regained consciousness, I found myself near her. I was disoriented, and she took pity on me as a fellow American in a foreign country. At least, she assumed I was a compatriot by my accent. She offered me a ride home, that’s all.”

Another long jolt from the shock stick left him gasping for air. Paz knew this punishment was mild compared to what would come next. The korporal shifted his feet, impatient to get to work with the real tools.

“I’m not an idiot.” The general’s nostrils flared. “I know you and the woman are working together. How much does she know of your mission?”

His blood chilled. He had to divert the beast’s attention from Jen. “She’s just an innocent caught up in this fiasco. Let her go, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“She’s not going anywhere. My dokter wife has plans for her. And she is far from innocent. Jennifer Dyhr is a critical player in this game.” His eyes hardened. “Cease your struggle. Fighting us is useless. You might as well talk and ease your discomfort. Where is the rest of your team? Are they on the island, or are their targets elsewhere?”

“I’ve told you, we lost contact. I didn’t even know they’d succeeded in knocking out the jamming signal until you said so.”

“You’re as stubborn as the other Drift Lord. Korporal, I don’t think your knives will work on him. Let’s use the boratus worms. Do you know of these creatures, Drift Lord?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.” He didn’t like the evil grin that split the korporal’s face. It made his elongated nose stick in the air like a space antenna.

“The little creatures bore into the nerve ganglia. You’ll experience excruciating pain and beg for the mercy of death.”

Paz tensed his muscles against the straps, then gave up in despair. “I can’t give you the location of my mates if I don’t know it.”

The general stuck his face in front of Paz’s, giving him a whiff of foul breath. “We mean to kill every member of your team and use the Earth women in the prophecy for our experiments. But first, you’ll tell us about your ship in orbit. You’ll reveal the shield frequencies for the Star Empire’s defense grid. Then, and only then, will you die.”

Chapter Eight

Jen languished in a tower chamber furnished with a toilet, a sink, and a hard cot. A sliver of a window high up on a wall provided light but not much fresh air. She’d fallen asleep, awakening in the morning when a guard brought her an apple and cheese and a mug of water. She’d gulped them down like an animal.

Her stomach knotted as she thought of Paz locked in the dungeon. What were they doing to him? Was he being tortured? Was he even still alive? Nausea assaulted her at the prospects.

Her own future wasn’t much brighter. The notion of being injected with foreign DNA as one of Algie’s guinea pigs made her shake uncontrollably.

If the Trolleks had wanted help finding a solution to their male sterility problem, why hadn’t they asked instead of attacking the human race? Had revenge for past wrongs so blackened their hearts? Was their king truly mad, or did he listen to urgings from someone—or something else?

She couldn’t deal with the whys or wherefores now. What mattered was getting out of here.

Algie had mentioned her power. Like Nira, Jen supposedly had abilities that defied and threatened the Trolleks. How so? What could
she
do against their fearsome army?

An odd notion popped into her head. She rubbed her brow, aching from that incessant low buzzing sound. What if it wasn’t the Trollek force she could influence but the human slaves instead?

No, hadn’t one of the soldiers called Nira a witch because she’d killed one of them?

Jen bit her lip, pacing the small space while the wood boards creaked underfoot. Sweat ringed her neck, and the heat made her clothing stick to her body. Perhaps it didn’t affect her hosts. She had no idea what their home world was like.

From their fierce appearance, one might think the Trolleks would be savages like their ancestors, but they were intelligent and cunning beings. What would they
not
expect her to do?

She strode to the door and pounded on the wood panel. “I want to see your leader. Take me to him. Open the door.”

It swung open and a Trollek soldier faced her with a scowl and a drawn weapon.

“What is it, human?” His scornful gaze raked her, his small eyes set above a hooked nose like a summer squash.

“I have news for the general. If he provides better amenities than this hole in the wall, I’m willing to talk, but only to him.”

She was betting the lowly enlisted soldier didn’t know Algie’s plans for her. He probably had no idea why she’d been imprisoned there and not enslaved like other humans.

“Wait here. I will consult my superior.” The menig shut the door in her face, and she heard the click of a latch.

She sank onto the single cot and waited. If only her head would clear. Closing her eyes made the noise worse. It felt as though thousands of mini jackhammers danced inside her brain.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

It would drive her insane. What had brought on this torment?

She buried her head in her hands and moaned. It had started in the jet just before the Trolleks jumped in. Could it be caused by the rift Paz claimed was in the vicinity? Or were the Trolleks the source of her problem? Hadn’t Paz mentioned Nira experienced the same effect? Likely just being in the beasts’ presence brought on the sensation.

Footsteps outside scattered her thoughts. Leytnant Bosk busted open the door.

“What is it, human?”

She leapt to her feet. “I wish to see General Morar.”

“What for?” His whiskers twitched.

“I have information to share, but I’ll only tell him in exchange for better facilities.”

“You’ll tell me what you know. I won’t have you bothering the general.” He kicked the door shut behind him then strode forward, yanking his shock stick from his belt. His eyes seemed to shrink further into his head as he regarded her like a carrion bird might its prey.

“Hurt me, and incur the dokter’s wrath. I’m her special project.” Jen lifted her chin.

“So why do you want to see her husband?”

“That’s between us.”

She had in mind the notion to plant seeds of mistrust between the general and his wife. Algie didn’t seem particularly obedient to their king. She obeyed when it suited her needs but had her own agenda.

With a growl, Bosk raised his stick. Her heart pounding, Jen backed up against the wall. He could do what he wanted here, and no one would be the wiser. Those electric shocks would hurt but didn’t leave permanent damage.

She gritted her teeth against anticipated pain. The leytnant had been itching to torment her. She feared he hadn’t done so sooner because he’d been working on Paz. Where was the brave Drift Lord who’d risked his life to protect her? Was he chained in the dungeon, still being tortured, or dead?

“Don’t come any nearer,” she warned the officer.

His stick got her in the stomach. Through an explosion of pain, she sank to her knees.

“Confess, witch. You have nothing to tell the general. You merely seek a means to escape.”

He jolted her on the chest, and she collapsed to the floor. Her body twitched, shards of agony igniting her nerves. She bit her tongue, tasting blood.

“Nice sash you’re wearing, Leytnant. Was that a reward ribbon for capturing me and Paz? Where is he, by the way?”

“Probably begging for death.” Bosk grinned, exposing jagged teeth. “General Morar left him with Korporal Nagt, our chief interrogator. He gets a particular delight out of carving recalcitrant humans until their skin hangs in strips. But he’ll probably try the boratus worms first.”

Jen wanted to close her ears but compulsion made her ask, “What’s that?”

He snickered at her lying on the floor and kicked her with his boot. She grunted as he connected with her ribs.

“Nasty creatures about this long.” He spread his fingers an inch wide while she struggled to breathe against the soreness. “They crawl in through the nose and attack the nerve ganglia.”

Her gut quivered. She couldn’t imagine such a horror. “Does anyone survive?” she asked in a small voice.

“Unfortunately for them, yes. The worms don’t last long in the host’s body heat. When they die, they release a longer-lasting toxin.” His grin widened. “It’s the greatest pleasure to hear the victims scream.”

“Bastard. I hate you.” Tears leaked from her eyes at the thought of what Paz must be enduring. They barely knew each other, and yet that connection he spoke of was undeniably true.

“You’ll hate me more when I’m through with you. If it weren’t for the dokter’s orders, I’d have taken my satisfaction from you already.” Drool dribbled down his chin. “What are her plans for you? She hasn’t shared them.”

“Sucks for you, buddy. Guess you’re not important enough.”

He slapped her. “Provoke me again, human, and I’ll say you caused trouble and needed to be subdued.”

Her glance fastened on the sash slung across his torso at a diagonal. If only she could tie it around her ears to block that incessant buzzing noise. Her head pounded in synchrony with the throbbing points of pain throughout her body. Or better still, she’d like to wrap that piece of fabric around Bosk’s thick neck.

He pummeled her again for sport, and her vision dimmed. As her head lolled back, she imagined the cloth snaking up his shoulders and twisting around his neck. With every ounce of energy, she squeezed it tight, her imaginary fingers tightening the noose from behind.

Choking gasps sounded followed by silence.

Awareness seeped back into her mind. Staring at her eyeball to eyeball on the floor was the leytnant, dead as a battery out of juice. His tongue dangled from his open mouth. Her glance shifted to his neck. He’d been strangled by his own sash.

Shock froze her in place. Good God, had she done that? How was this possible?

Guilt flushed her face and made waves of heat and cold skitter up and down her spine.

She took a couple of rapid, shaky breaths.
Worry about it later. Use this opportunity.

Caution made her glance toward the closed door. At any moment, the sentry might burst in to check on them. He’d see his superior on the floor. Jen didn’t want him to realize the guy was dead until she’d had the chance to get far away.

With a grimace, she unwound the sash and then wrestled with the Trollek’s big body to put the ribbon back in place. Done with that unpleasant chore, she grabbed his shock stick from where he’d dropped it on the floor.

She turned the rod in her fingers but couldn’t determine how to operate it. Nonetheless, the thing might have its uses. For extra measure, she confiscated the dagger from the beast’s boot and stashed it between her breasts.

“Help! Someone help me!” She leveraged to her feet and retreated to a spot by the door. “The leytnant is sick. He’s collapsed to the floor.”

The door opened outwardly, so she couldn’t hide behind it when the sentry came in. Fortunately, he was alone and unsuspecting. She bashed the shock stick into his temple as he entered. It was like hitting a brick wall. He turned toward her and snarled, raising his hand to strike.

Jen cast aside the useless rod and drew the dagger. As he stepped toward her, she lunged forward and aimed for his throat. The knife sank into his flesh. A stunned look crossed his expression, and then he slumped to the ground.