Born of Legend (105 page)

Cairistiona scowled at him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Thrāix turned to Darling. “Handing the ship to you for a minute.” He rose and went to Jullien's birth parents. “Our mission was strictly to protect Nykyrian's innocent wife and children. We didn't know anyone else would be in that
minsid
palace. Other than you, Tadara, and your sister. But you weren't the priority. Jules figured you had an army, you could fend for yourselves. Fight it out with your mother as you'd left him to do when he was just a kid. Imagine our surprise when we got there and realized we didn't have enough space to evacuate you all.”

She at least had the decency to slink down in her seat.

His father wasn't so smart. “Had he stayed apprised of the news, he'd have known. Not like it was a secret.”

“Be that as it may, he knew something neither the fucking news nor all your intel agencies combined had ever discovered, didn't he? For that matter, had
you
listened to him about the Bromese base when he tried to warn you months ago, over thirteen hundred families would have been spared that fun-filled nightmare. And we could have just made a call to you about tonight's impending doom, instead of coming here ourselves. And rather than saying
thank you
for leaving your families who love you and for risking your lives, you shot at him and dragged your asses like anchors that slowed down our escape, every step of the way. Ever occur to you that had you all cooperated, we might have all gotten out before the palace went down?” Disgusted, Thrāix retook his seat and checked their settings.

Darling cleared his throat. “This really Jullien's ship?”

“Yes. He's owned her for years.”

“Then I take it the soundtracks are for his kids?” He pressed a link on the panel, and a childish voice began singing a goofy Andarion alphabet song.

In spite of his fury, Thrāix burst out laughing. “Yeah, Mira made him add that one so that he and Vas wouldn't miss her while they were out on missions. Whenever she calls, she makes them sing it with her over the link. Drives her brother crazy.”

Darling snorted. “And Jullien actually sings it with her?”

“Oh yeah.” Thrāix pulled up a link to show a log feed of Jullien doing it. He was even clapping in sync to it, and dancing with the puppets.

Darling gaped, then laughed so hard, he almost fell out of his chair.

“Hey now,” Thrāix chided. “The boy loves his girls. There's nothing he won't do to make them happy.”

Kiara moved to stand by his side so that she could watch the feed. “Is that his son with him?”

“Yeah.”

Darling continued to scowl as he went through the playlists. “And the extremely religious stuff in here?”

“Unira's. She's a high priestess.”

“And she's part of his crew?”

“Yes.”

“I've never heard any of these.” Darling cued one of the songs.

Cairistiona bristled as soon as it played. “She's a Demurrist?”

Thrāix glanced at her over his shoulder. “You might want to take that snotty tone down a notch. We're all Demurrists, and you're headed into a base that's predominately filled with them. Not to mention, Jules is one, too.”

“Since when?”

“Since he married Ushara.”

Cairistiona scowled. “And that was when?”

Shaking his head, Thrāix gave Darling a droll, gaping stare. “Am I the only one who thinks it's pathetic that the female who gave the child life has no idea of the most basic information about him?”

Cairistiona growled at him. “It's not my fault he cut us out.”

“Not
your
fault? Ah, I see. I guess that was someone other than your very own sister, who ran him off when he came to see you and apologize, and told him that he would never be welcomed in your home again. And that he wasn't entitled to anything, including his own clothes and link, which she confiscated from him so that he couldn't even call any of you?”

Cairistiona turned to Tylie, who paled. “You did
what
?”

“I'm sorry. I was so angry at him after what he did to Nyk and Kiara. And I didn't want you hurt any worse. I was only trying to protect
you.
”

“You threw my son out and didn't tell me?”

Tylie swallowed. “You were upset and staying with Nykyrian. We'd just gotten him home, and you were barely finding your stride as tadara. I didn't want to do anything to upset you.”

Thrāix gave her no reprieve from her own culpability. “Don't blame Tylie. Didn't you ever find it odd that your son never bothered to pack a bag? Make a withdrawal? Grab his toothbrush?”

“Jullien was always petulant. I just assumed it was another way to strike out at me and make me worry about him.”

Fury darkened his gaze as he turned to stare at both of Jullien's parents. Unable to comprehend her selfish stupidity, he gaped for a full minute before he could speak again. “Oh, okay. He was punishing
you
. 'Cause it's all about you, Majesty, I see. Tell you what … this is what Jules looked like when he met Ushara.” Thrāix turned on the main monitor to show the images of Jullien rescuing Vasili on Steradore. “Yeah. He was
definitely
punishing
you
. Wish my enemies were that fucking considerate.… And let me give you a little advice. Tread easy around his wife. She's not Kiara. Ushara is trained to kill. Has a hair-trigger on her temper, even more so while she's pregnant, and unlike you, is highly protective of Jules. She loves him more than her life. When she finds out that he's been captured because of
you
, there's no telling what she's going to do. In fact, Nyk might be inheriting that throne a lot sooner than he thought.”

*   *   *

Jullien came awake to a vicious pain in his skull, and a worse one in his leg and chest. Blinking slowly to try to clear his blurred vision, he found himself facedown on the floor of a filthy, overcrowded cell.

“Look who's finally coming to. Welcome back to Tophet, royal prick.”

Someone kicked him hard in the ribs.

Jullien cursed as he tasted blood and bile.

Someone else stomped his arm and back, while another kicked his head.

“Stop it! Let the boy alone!”

“Let him alone? He and his kind are why we're in here.” The speaker spat on him. “Anatole filth!”

“I say we hang the royal bastard!”

Dazed from the pain, Jullien forced himself to stand before they pummeled or stomped him to death on the ground. But it was hard. He stood in the middle of the crowd on shaky legs, especially the one he'd been shot in. That one really protested his weight.

He struggled to stay conscious as a male grabbed him from behind and another from the front. He kicked the one in front first, knocking him into the arms of another, then turned and backhanded the other. That male staggered away.

More rushed him from all directions.

Reacting on pure animal instinct, Jullien ducked the next blow, caught the male's arm and punched his throat, then head-butted him, causing him to stumble away. He caught the next attacker by his throat and snapped his neck.

Then they were on him like a pack of wild dogs. Fists, claws, fangs. They used whatever they could to bring him down as quickly and painfully as possible.

He shoved his attackers away as best he could, but the sheer number of them was overwhelming. He stumbled sideways, trying to escape them. Which caused his shirt to rip and temporarily bind his arms as he tried to free himself from their cloying grasps. Twisting, he pulled his arms out and moved to defend.

With a collective, audible gasp, they drifted away to gape at him.

Weak and bleeding, Jullien fell to one knee. Determined to see this through, he ground his teeth and forced his wounded body to stand again. By the gods, he wouldn't die on the ground. He would go out like a Samari.

On his feet. Fighting.

A shadow approached from behind.

Jullien turned, ready to strike with everything he had. Only it wasn't another attacker. It was an older nobleman.

Saren ezul Terronova. One of his grandmother's former advisors.

And the leader of WAR—Warriors Against Royalty. Back when his grandmother was tadara, it had been a resistance group that attempted to overthrow her.

With Jullien's help, they'd finally succeeded.

Jullien had once made weekly reports to this male. A male who now stared in total shock and dismay at the tattoo on his forearm.

“No,” Saren breathed raggedly. “You can't be the one. It's just not possible. Is it?” He took Jullien's arm and brushed his hand over the War Hauk symbol. “
You
are Dagger Ixur?”

Jullien nodded weakly. “You were my main point-of-contact, even though my handler was technically Kerell eton Zeki.”

“What's that mean?” one of the others asked.

Saren stared at the males around him. “It means that I will personally gut the next one who lays a claw or gives so much as a dirty look to this boy.” He pulled his jacket off and wrapped it around Jullien's shoulders. “Find me something to bind his wounds with.”

Jullien scoffed at his offer. “There's no need to waste valuable supplies on me. Eriadne won't let me live long enough for it to matter.”

As if on cue, the doors of their cell slid open to admit a circle of guards. With trilassos, they collared Jullien and dragged him from the cell.

Laughing, Jullien grabbed the long pole and used it to ram the first guard into the wall. Then he whipped it around to trip the second, but before he could go after more, they opened fire on him with their service blasters.

Still Jullien tried to reach them before his nervous system gave out.

Relentless bastards stunned him to the ground. His breathing ragged, he coughed and wheezed in an effort to get air into either set of his lungs. Unfortunately, that cost him, as it drained his powers down to nothing. The pain was so great, he no longer had enough power to even disguise his eyes.

Saren gasped at the red color and stepped back. “You're stralen? How?”

“Sucks to be a mutant,” Jullien choked. “Genes do all kinds of unexpected things.” He had no power left in him at all.

“Little Julie … you uncooperative bastard. And here we all thought you dead. You have the most inconvenient timing.”

Still choking, he glanced up at Nyran and laughed. “I strive to be the bug in your ass,
kyzi.
Your own personal hemorrhoid.”

“You succeed. Now you can either come with me quietly or I'll have my brothers open fire on your entire family.” Nyran turned the pad in his hands around so that Jullien could see a live feed at the Port StarStation.

Jullien went cold at the sight of Ushara and his daughters, who were blissfully playing, unaware that the Veniks were watching them through their station cameras. “You hurt them—”

“Save the threat for someone who gives a shit.” He jerked his chin at his guards. “Cuff him and bring him.”

Saren met his gaze. “You're not alone.”

Jullien would appreciate the sentiment more if he wasn't about to die a horrible death at the hands of his grandmother. Unfortunately, the majority of doorways in life were designed to be walked through solo.

Death was the biggest of all. It was the one trip that everyone took alone.

And he wasn't a coward.

After the guards had him secured, they dragged him down the hall, to his grandmother's makeshift throne room. Oh yeah, fun times. He well remembered this. Brought back some thrilling childhood trauma he could have waited a lifetime to remember.

When Jullien refused to kneel before her, they kicked his wounded leg. Still, he remained standing, even though it was killing him.

Yeah, he was just
that
minsid stubborn.

Eriadne's nostrils flared as she glared at him. “Ever defiant, aren't you?”

He gave her a pleasant smile. “Hello, Yaya.”

She backhanded him.

Damn, for an old bitch, her strength hadn't faded, at all. Nonchalantly licking the blood from his lips, he stood up slowly and acted as if she'd kissed him. He even flipped his hair back into place. Nothing pissed her off more than for him to act like her cruelty didn't faze him.

He knew
exactly
how to push her buttons.

And so he appeared completely bored. He even yawned.

Which caused her to shriek in fury. “You worthless, piece-of-shit bastard! I gave you everything, and how did you repay me?”

“With the same, exact treachery I learned at your cold, decrepit hands. Hard to be kind when I suckled venom from the withered tit of the ancient bitch of all evil, herself.”

Shrieking again, she moved in to stab him.

But Jullien wasn't through with his surprises. He took a deep breath and used everything Ushara had taught him to pool the Samari blood inside.

As soon as they were close enough, he unleashed the hottest fire he'd ever spewed before.

Nyran screamed in agony as he stepped back and dropped to the floor to roll around in an effort to put out the flames.

Eriadne was harder to pin.

With a combination of his telekinesis and his cyber arm, Jullien broke the cuffs and gave chase to her as she fled the room. Her guards came for him, but he fought them off. His only goal was to finish this, once and for all.

He couldn't leave her alive. Not this time.

One of them had to die.

As they opened fire on him, he hit the ground and skidded on his knees, turning so that he could return their volley with his fyrebreath. At the end of the corridor, he rolled for cover into another nearby hallway.

Nyran continued to scream, letting him know the bastard wasn't dead yet.

“Come on, Eriadne,” he called out for her. “You wanted a piece of my flesh. Come get some.”