Codename Winter
Aubrey Ross
Undercover Embassy, Book Two
After the Gathosians invade Earth and enslave its surviving population, Winter is forced to work in an alien-run refinery. When Ulrick Brant rescues her from an even worse fate, she has a new choice—become an “ambassador”, a sex slave to the invaders. Quickly recruited as a spy for the Resistance, Winter has her first task—seduce Ulrick, the Gathosians’ enforcer on Earth, to learn the location of Earth’s potential savior.
Ulrick hates the Gathosians, who force him to enslave world after world against his will. He doesn’t mind helping the Resistance, but he won’t be used. Before Winter realizes he’s discovered her deception, he has her naked and in restraints. Even through his anger, he can’t fight the electric attraction between them. But if he agrees to aid the Resistance, it will be on his terms.
Winter is dazzled by the pleasure they share but the Resistance won’t wait forever. Danger is closing in, and Ulrick must choose his final role—ruthless invader or freedom fighter.
Flipping up his collar against the humid chill, Ulrick Brant strode along the rain-soaked walkway. Twisting tubes and lighted towers stabbed the gloomy sky and stretched out toward the far horizon. The complex spanned Montauk Point like a ravenous beast crouched atop the tip of Long Island.
He didn’t understand how Gathosian technology worked, but he understood what it accomplished. The ruthless aliens were stripping salt from Earth’s oceans—and decimating countless ecosystems in the process.
Earth was the eleventh planet the Gathosians had ravaged in the past thirteen years. Valtory had been the first. Ulrick had been helpless to stop the destruction of his home world, and he had nothing to offer these humans. He’d seen what happened to those who disobeyed. The images haunted him night and day.
Ulrick shook away the depressing thought and sped his steps. He wasn’t here to liberate his subordinates. He was here to investigate reports of abuse. The stark industrial clutter of the refinery gave way to an artificial tranquility as Ulrick stepped into the lobby of the office building.
“Welcome, Mr. Brant. Please go right in. Mr. Tomlinson is expecting you.” The receptionist motioned toward the double doors on his left without leaving his high-backed chair.
With a stiff nod to the receptionist, Ulrick strode toward the doors and they swung inward with a soft swoosh.
“So what can I do for you, Mr. Brant?” Chet Tomlinson asked from behind his glass-topped desk. “It’s not often I get requests from one of the heads of the Protectorate.”
The Protectorate enforced the will of the Gathosians, regardless of their personal feelings on the matter. Addiction to the compound ensured that members of the Protectorate remained loyal to their masters. No, not loyal. He felt only loathing for the Gathosians. The compound ensured his obedience, nothing more.
Not one to mince words, Ulrick came right to the point. “Some allegations reached my office. I felt they warranted a cursory investigation.”
“Fair enough.” Chet folded his hands on top of his considerable belly, leaning back slightly in his chair. “What are the allegations?”
“When was the last time a female was assigned to your crew?”
His forehead creased and surprise made his dark eyes gleam. “It’s been at least a year. Transfers of any kind are rare. What’s this about?” He met Ulrick’s gaze directly without guilt or deception.
“How are females processed?”
“Like any other worker.” Tomlinson shrugged. “They’re examined by medical, sent through orientation, and released into the general population.”
Annoyed by Tomlinson’s evasiveness, Ulrick prompted, “What happens after that? Walk me through it step-by-step.”
Chet scooted closer, folding his arms on the desktop. “Each complex has their own code, so I can only tell you how it works here.”
“I understand that.”
“I run four pods. Each pod is responsible for a dozen drying fields. I give them production quotas depending on initial saturation and—”
“I’m interested in social dynamics, not the specifics of production.”
“All right. Each pod has a captain, and the strongest of the four captains is declared king. I deal exclusively with the king. The king keeps the captains in line and the captains run their pods.”
Ulrick didn’t have the patience for Chet’s meandering pace. “So a female worker would be given to the king?”
“Yeah. If he already had a woman, he’d decide who got the girl or he’d open it up for challenges.”
“Is the female never given a say in where she goes?”
Chet chuckled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “She can say all she wants, but unless the man she prefers is strong enough to win her, it won’t matter in the end.”
The concept was not uncommon. Valtorian women had been claimed by the strongest of their suitors for centuries. He wasn’t sure why human females disapproved of the system, but four years on this planet had taught him enough about their culture to know they would. “Are the women protected once they are claimed?”
“For the most part. There have been a few challenges after a woman was awarded, but they’re the exceptions not the rule.”
Ulrick paused. He suspected Noirte’s reports had been exaggerated. The general hadn’t intentionally lied to him, but the females who claimed to have been gang-raped night after night must have—
A shrill alarm cut through Ulrick’s musings.
Chet reached over and deactivated the alarm. “This is Operations. What the hell is going on down there?”
“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but they’ve got Winters’ cub and things are getting ugly fast.”
Chet shoved back from his desk and stood. “Who has the boy? Is he hurt?”
“That’s just it, sir. Cub ain’t no boy. Winters’ been hiding a woman under all that grime, and the captains are ready to tear each other apart.”
“I’m on my way.”
Without asking permission, Ulrick fell into step beside the refinery boss.
* * * * *
Clutching Grizzly Winters’ burly body to her naked breasts, Cub rocked her protector back and forth as tears streamed down her face. Fear had given way to rage, and finally anguish as the life faded from his pale-blue eyes. “Don’t you die on me. Don’t you dare! Please, Grizzly. Talk to me.”
Cub’s surroundings faded in and out of focus—metal walkways, exposed pipes and endless miles of concrete. And all the dirty, leering faces, staring, waiting, entertained by her tragedy.
“You knew about this! Didn’t you?” The captains circled Vik like sharks attracted to blood in the water. “You’re king. You had to know.”
“I swear, Grizzly told no one,” Vik insisted.
“Was he fucking her?”
The question sent a fresh wave of fury stabbing into Cub. “You disgusting pigs! You’re all so worried about fucking. You can’t think of anything else! He was like a pa to me! He took care of me and taught me, but he never laid a hand on me.” She buried her face in Grizzly’s wiry hair as hard sobs robbed her of speech.
“Vik, tell me exactly what happened. How was it discovered that Cub was female and who killed Grizzly?”
She was used to hearing Tomlinson’s voice over the loudspeaker, but she wasn’t surprised to find him here. Tomlinson always turned up when things went wrong. Holding Grizzly close, she waited to see if Vik would tell it true, or if she’d need to step in and set things straight.
“Griz heard Cub screaming and went to see what was wrong.” Vik looked at her, eyes hot and hungry. “Greg and Toad had Cub down on the floor. They was gonna take a poke at him, but when they got his pants off the surprise was on them.”
Everyone started laughing, and Cub pressed her fists over her ears, screaming, “It ain’t funny! If I’d been a boy, they’d have hurt me bad.”
Tomlinson moved toward her, all clean pressed suit and fake smiles. “None of this is funny, Cub. You’ve been very brave.” As quick as his compassion appeared it evaporated. He turned back to Vik and she was all but forgotten. “Who killed Grizzly?”
“He went after Greg and Toad. No one blames him for that, but he wouldn’t stop. His captain warned him to stop. Even I warned him. He left us no choice.”
“He knew it had been for nothing.” She paused for a sneer. “Griz promised my pa he’d protect me or die trying. Looks like he kept his word.” She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “He went down swinging ‘cause those two wouldn’t jerk off like everyone else!”
A man stepped out of the shadows beyond Tomlinson and the breath caught in Cub’s throat. His hair was light, golden even in the underground, yet his eyes were darker than midnight. Tomlinson moved with authority and purpose evident in each step. This man looked so damn comfortable it was as if he owned the world.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
He stepped up beside the boss and held out his hand. “My name is Ulrick Brant. I’m sorry for your loss.”
She glanced down at her filthy hand then crossed her arms over her breasts. Tears blurred her vision and burned her throat. Why was this stranger the only one who realized she was in pain? No one else seemed to care that the only person in this godforsaken place who ever gave a damn about her lay lifeless—because of her!
The stranger shrugged out of his fancy coat and knelt beside her. “Is the blood on your chest his, or are you hurt as well?” He placed the coat around her shoulders and eased Grizzly farther down her legs.
“I ain’t hurt, thanks to Grizzly.” As soon as she let go, he rolled Grizzly’s body to the side and helped her to her feet. She quickly slipped her arms into the sleeves and buttoned a few of the buttons, then gathered the long coat around her trembling legs. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She dragged her gaze away from his handsome face and looked back at Grizzly. He lay on his side now, all peaceful, as if he was sleeping.
“Get her cleaned up so we can see if she’s worth fighting for.”
She didn’t know who said it, but it snapped her head back around. “I belong to Griz! I’m Grizzly Winters’ Cub!”
“Griz is dead, Cub,” Vik reminded her. As if she could forget. “You know the rules. Women must be claimed. There are no exceptions.”
“How old is she?” Tomlinson asked his bushy brows scrunching together over his nose. “She might not be ready for breeding.”
“She’s more than ready.” That hot, hungry look came back into Vik’s eyes. “We all thought he was—she was just a kid, but naked bodies don’t lie. Cub’s a full-grown woman.”
The stranger wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and drew her toward him. “Chet, she’s perfect for my investigation. I’ll return her in a day or so.”
“Wait a goddamn minute! Who the fuck are you?” Vik took a menacing step forward.
Tomlinson blocked Vik’s path. “Mr. Brant is the Civilian Head of the Protectorate. He can interview anyone he likes for as long as he likes. Step aside.”
To Cub’s astonishment Vik did exactly that. Vik didn’t back down for anyone, so why was he being so cooperative? She wasn’t sure what the “Civilian Head of the Protectorate” was, but Vik and Tomlinson were sure acting weird.
She took two steps forward before her numbed brain reengaged. “Wait! What about Griz?”
“I’ll see that he is sent off with all the honor he deserves.”
On any other day she wouldn’t have believed anything Tomlinson said, but he was bending over backward to accommodate the stranger. And the stranger had taken an interest in her.
In a muddled stupor, she followed the stranger across the common room and down the corridor leading to the elevators. Ulrick. He’d said his name was Ulrick Brant. She looked up at him and shivered. Even in profile he looked amazing, attractive, interesting and dangerous. What did the Civilian Head of the Protectorate want with someone like her?
“Where are you taking me?” It was foolish to care, but she couldn’t silence the question.
“Away from here.” His tone was low and amused. “Do you really care where we go?” He echoed her thought as he slid the safety gate open and motioned her inside.
She hesitated. “It depends what you expect from me in return.”
“Then stay here and take your chances with them.”
Annoyance rolled up her spine. “You don’t have to threaten me. I’m just trying to understand what you want.”
“I want to talk to you. I want to see who’s living under all that dirt. Beyond that, I honestly don’t know.” He moved into the elevator and grabbed the safety gate. “In or out. It’s up to you.”
* * * * *
Autumn lay on her side, snuggled against Ra’jen’s warm body. His hair streamed across her shoulders and along her side. Each time she moved against him the silky strands caressed her skin, making her restless for more of what they’d just shared. She traced the bright-blue pattern on his chest, thrilled that she excited him enough to make his tellimon flare. Only his true mate could arouse him this deeply; yet she was human, not Pryett like her “warrior elf”.
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