Daegon: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Alien-Human Military Romance) (5 page)

There was no way to say for sure whether she was alive, but Daegon knew better. The Yemalan wouldn't bother with the dead. They certainly didn't show that much care to their own.

Daegon ran to the bridge, ordering the
Wraith
to pursue the mothership that was now fleeing.

Everything was about to go from bad to worse. Soon, the other clans would hear of it. Nadar too, wherever he was. Daegon tried to imagine what the chieftain would feel, hearing that the world where his pregnant bride lived had come under attack. His retaliation would be ruthless, but the clans would lay the blame with him.

To keep them from falling apart, to not give the Yemalan everything they'd ever wanted, Daegon had to catch the ship. The Corgan revenge had to be exacted.

And he had to save Zoey.

"Don't lose them," he growled, more a threat than an order.

Z
oey had had more
pleasant wake-ups.

Her first three thoughts after regaining consciousness were all variations of the theme "son of a
bitch
, that hurt". Honestly, she was surprised that the freaky glove the Yemalan wore hadn't fried her like a human popcorn kernel.

Once her mind ripped itself free from the terrible pain, the single explanation was that the enemy had intentionally spared her to take her hostage. She had seen the damage the glove did to a few careless Corgans. It must have had several settings, because the touch had left Zoey with little more than a nasty headache. The impact, though, had felt like someone trying to rip her heart from her chest.

She shuddered at the memory.

Zoey blinked slowly, trying to make sense of her surroundings. One thing was clear – she was no longer on the
Wraith
. Everything was off – the sounds, the smell, even the temperature was colder than she remembered.

And most importantly, Daegon was nowhere to be seen. For some reason, Zoey was certain that if she'd been on the Corgan ship, the warlord would have been there by her side.

It was a silly notion, but it made sense in a way she couldn't entirely explain.

She was lying on something cold and hard, tossed aside like a discarded piece of luggage. Zoey supposed with morbid humor that that was exactly what she was to the Yemalan. They had no business with her, and as much as she knew about them, the species had no wish for it either.

Zoey wasn't sure if she should move. To her astonishment, she wasn't really scared. If anything, she was kind of embarrassed. Back on the
Wraith
, she'd only managed to fire a few blasts at the enemy before they took her down.

In her defense, the glove had come from behind her. But still. Taken out in less than a minute.

Not completely helpless my ass.

It figured – she should have left the fighting to the professionals, but Zoey refused to be left aside like a doll. Despite the evidence to the contrary, she didn't want to be a hostage.

Better things to do. Important matters to discuss. A really hot warlord to get back to.

Joking made her feel better, but then she had to get serious. It was clear that even if Daegon was coming for her, she was alone for the moment.

Time to figure out what the heck was going on and work from there.

So, she was on a ship that wasn't the
Wraith.
That left few options. She had to be on the Yemalan mothership. Judging by the fact that she couldn't hear any clamor or shouting, not even screaming, the ship wasn't in battle. Conclusion – they were running. If what she knew about Corgans was anything to go by, Daegon was in pursuit.

Okay, so far so good. Now what? Sit here and wait to be rescued like a proper princess? Fuck no.

That posed the question – what could she actually do? Zoey quickly decided against trying to argue her way out of the mess she'd ended up in. The Yemalan wouldn’t be interested in anything she had to offer, that much she knew. They wanted even less to do with the Union than the Corgans. No bargaining chips there.

Growing tired of simply lying there, motionless, Zoey dared to push herself to a seated position and look around properly. She was in a damp, cold room. Other than her, it was empty. Rusty, brown walls rose around her, but oddly enough, there were no guards. Apparently they didn't think much of her, at least not enough to consider her a threat.

That was fine. Zoey was okay with being underestimated. She wouldn't go down in the first round again.

If they didn't need her, why had they taken her? That was very weird. Usually Yemalan didn't take hostages, but apparently the concept wasn't entirely alien to them.

With no more information at her disposal, Zoey was forced to leave the why for later. The immediate battle plan needed reforming and execution. She searched her surroundings.

Her gun had been taken, of course. The bare room had nothing useful to her, but that didn't mean she couldn't find something.

Peeking out of the doorway at one end of the room, Zoey made up her mind. Assuming that Daegon or at least some Corgan was tracking them, she had to find a way to help. Clearly she wasn't a one-woman fighting machine, so her best chance was sabotage and finding a way to delay the mothership.

And this is the moment where I wish I'd paid more attention in Advanced Physics. Or Layout and Weaknesses of Unknown Alien Warships for Beginners.

Oddly enough, the fear still didn't come. Instead, adrenaline did. Zoey wondered if there was more to her than she knew, because her heart hadn't beat that fast in forever. She put it firmly down to meeting Daegon.

Something about the warlord simply lit a fire within her, a fire that wanted to push her to prove herself against all odds. Having to fight for her life was unlike anything she'd ever known before. There was an interesting kind of freedom to it.

Everything that could go wrong already had and then some.

The hallway outside the room she was in was filled with corpses. They'd been thrown aside as carelessly as her, all the way as far as she could see. The Yemalan really had no sympathy, not for the living nor for the dead.

Realizing that brought some of the unease back, but Zoey steeled her heart. The stench was unbelievable, but she made herself crawl as slowly as she could and check the dead. As she'd hoped, the Yemalan hadn't taken their weapons like they had taken hers. The fallen still had the short tridents in their hands. Zoey peeled the cold fingers away from one of them and tried to raise the short spear.

It was too heavy for her, way too heavy to properly wield, but she didn't exactly have the luxury of being picky. Besides, it wasn't really the spear she wanted.

She hesitated before trying to check for the horrible gloves. And hearing raised voices from afar, Zoey figured she didn't have much time. She couldn't risk anyone seeing her out and about.

Being awake was one thing but trying to escape was another. She doubted they’d have any mercy for her.

Holding her breath and counting the moments until her discovery, Zoey took a closer look at the Yemalan's hands. She could see that the gloves were cleverly built. The shock actually seemed to come from the small crystal in the middle of the glove and the rest of it protected the wearer. So it had to be made of some material that isolated electricity.

Zoey had to carefully turn several corpses over before she found one with a broken crystal. Judging it to be safe, she clawed the glove loose. Slipping her hand inside and keeping the heavy spear ready just in case, she went to look for a working glove.

Tapping the gloves gently felt like taunting death, but Zoey made herself do it. The glove was a bit big for her, but she could adjust it just enough. It was the only weapon she could properly wield on the ship.

Finally she found one. Zoey barely bit back a startled yelp when the crystal spat sparks at her when she poked it. She hoped the Yemalan didn't have superhuman hearing or she would be toast. As quickly as she dared and clumsily with only one arm, she pulled the glove with the working crystal free. Then, painstakingly slowly as if she were performing heart surgery, Zoey slipped her hand into the glove.

She had no idea how to tune the strength of the shock, so whatever setting it was on would have to do. She had to carry on and hope she didn't slip and fall on her own hand. That would have been a horrible way to go.

Zoey snuck forward, towards the voices. It was the last place she wanted to be, but she needed to know what was going on if she was going to stop it.

The files she'd read about the Corgans included some info on the Yemalan as well. Zoey had picked up a few words, but she was hardly an expert. She had to go by other signs, like tone and gestures.

Except, as much as she could tell, the Yemalan were always angry.

The screaming got steadily louder as she went closer, holding her stolen weapons in front of her. She doubted they'd do her much good, but it was better than nothing.

When she could finally see a bright light ahead, Zoey didn't risk going closer. She crouched down by the wall, knowing that her light blue dress stood out from the grim background. She'd be seen as soon as anyone popped their head out of the room in front of her.

Zoey could hardly hear over her own heartbeat. It seemed the Yemalan were arguing, but for the life of her she couldn't understand what it was about. The few words she caught made little sense, and she could very well have misheard.

That is until a voice spoke up, loud and clear. It was a man, addressing the Yemalan. At first, he said something Zoey couldn't interpret.

And then he said in plain Corganese, "Relax. Everything is going according to plan. We have the girl. Soon they will start fighting between themselves."

Apparently the Yemalan understood well enough. Shrill screaming answered him while Zoey's blood ran cold.

Me. I am the girl. But why?

"Yes, yes," the man replied. "I know. He is following us. Let him come. Once we reach the border, the others will join us. It will all be over soon."

Zoey listened, wide-eyed, her head spinning wildly. She had been dead wrong. It hadn't been a simple attack on Gaiya. There was something incredibly sinister going on and she had somehow ended up in the middle of it.

The man spoke again.

"Bring the girl. She has to be safe, for now. The time to kill her will be soon."

Zoey turned and ran, not looking back. Behind her, she could hear the voices of the Yemalan. She didn't need to translate the screaming to know that they were out through the door now and had seen her. With her life flashing before her eyes, Zoey fled.

The Yemalan came after her.

She didn't know why, but her heart kept calling for Daegon. She hadn't realized how safe she'd felt with him back on the
Wraith
. Faced with the true terrors that lurked in the galaxy, her fear of him was gone. In that moment, she would have given everything she had to see him. Yet, Daegon wasn't there.

But he was close. She had to run and hide and survive. Give him a chance to rescue her from the monsters on her tail.

When she rounded another corner, a hand grabbed her from behind. Zoey turned with a scream and her gloved hand lashed out. The Yemalan howled in pain, but kept coming. She backed away from him, wondering if he remembered the order was to deliver her back alive. When the creature roared in pain and raised the short spear above his head, Zoey doubted it.

She somehow managed to catch the blow, averting it clumsily, so that it only ripped the sleeve of her dress. Feeling blood roll down her arm, Zoey could hear the other pursuers coming closer. Unthinking, she reached out and pressed her gloved hand against the attacker's throat. The creature was thrown back with a nauseating thud.

Zoey didn't stick around to see if he was breathing or not. With nowhere else to go, she ran for the dark depths of the ship, the Yemalan right behind her.

I
'm still alive
.

That was the only clear thought in Zoey’s mind as she leaned against the rusty wall. It was both a reassurance and a question, since she truthfully couldn't believe it. Somehow, she had managed to shake her pursuers.

A cynical thought came to her, and it made little sense. How could the Yemalan lose her on their own ship?

She liked none of the answers her helpful mind provided. The one she liked the least was that there was some perverse hunt going on and they were simply letting her believe that she'd escaped.

She shook her head clear. Despairing wouldn't do her any good, only surviving did – and finding out what was going on between the Yemalan and Corgans, if she could. Technically, what the two species did was none of her business – the Union had no stake in that fight – but that wasn't entirely true, was it?

The Union wanted peace throughout the known galaxy, Zoey believed that. Even if some of the Union’s leaders were a bit particular as to how that peace was to come about, she knew that at least the Palians would approve if she tried to help.

And somehow it had become unbearable to think that she couldn't be of any help to Daegon. Not only because the warlord was bound to be more sympathetic towards her if she delivered vital information, but on a more personal level as well.

Zoey wanted to see those blue amber eyes shine brightly for her. No way would she let herself be rescued like a damsel in distress with nothing to show for her time spent in captivity.

She had wandered around the ship for a while now and several things were becoming clear to Zoey. With no more overheard conversations helping her understand the situation, some things were glaringly obvious.

The Yemalan mothership was preparing for war. The attack on Gaiya had been nothing more than a practice run, it seemed. Zoey couldn't imagine that their only purpose had been to kidnap her. Surely they would have done a better job at guarding – and capturing – her then. No, she figured they had wanted to deal a terrible blow to Corgan pride.

Remembering the brief time she'd spent with Daegon, Zoey had no doubt they'd succeeded with him, at least. She couldn't imagine the warlord letting them go that easily.

Her heart skipped a beat every time she thought of him, closing in on the fleeing Yemalan. No man had ever left an impression quite like that on her. Attraction aside, Zoey found a deep longing within herself, one that called out to the warlord. Above all else, she wanted more of him.

It didn't have to be anything physical, necessarily. She just wanted to continue living with Daegon as part of her life. Then she could figure out exactly what he was.

Her hearing wasn't supernatural in any way, but even Zoey could suddenly make out footsteps coming her way. They weren't hurrying but slow and steady, as if the person had no reason to rush whatsoever.

This being a Yemalan ship, it left very few options to who it could be.

Zoey hid behind a darker nook as soon as she heard him. She doubted it would work, but she wasn't going to let the opportunity to see the man pass. If she could find out who was cooperating with the Yemalan, clearly guiding their steps... That would be something Daegon could use.

Taking a deep, quiet breath, Zoey dared to peek out of her hiding spot.

The dark corridor was empty, although she could have sworn the steps were almost upon her.

Was I wrong? It couldn't have been an echo, I'm sure of it –

That was all she could think before a hand grabbed her. Suppressing a scream, Zoey rounded on the attacker, trying to rip herself free.

"Don't try anything foolish," the man said.

He was clearly Corgan, which made her struggling all the more pointless. Zoey stared up into fever-bright blue eyes, somehow wrong in their intensity. Daegon's eyes had been passionate, wild. The gaze of this warrior was driven by something different. He was mad, furious even.

He was nearly as tall and powerful as Daegon, but he scared her in a way Daegon never had. Mara James had assured her that Daegon wouldn't hurt her, but this warrior would, Zoey had no doubt about that.

But she wouldn't let it come to that. The man had startled her, but he had grabbed the arm that held the trident. Since the weapon was practically useless to her anyway, Zoey let it drop but brought up her other hand, stopping only inches from the man's face.

His eyes went wide in surprise, but he didn't even flinch.

"Let go of me," Zoey snarled, "or I will burn your face off."

In answer, the warrior caught her hand, moving so fast she couldn't even react before he held the glove and her hand away from the two of them. His eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Feisty," he said, "but you are not a match for me."

"I know," Zoey replied defiantly, "but I can still struggle. Would you risk getting hit with it accidentally?"

"Yes," the warrior replied calmly as if they weren't talking about his death. "Are you?"

Zoey thought about it for a second, but as soon as she saw the smug expression on the Corgan's face, she lashed out with all her strength. The man managed to avoid contact with the glove, as she'd predicted, but in turn Zoey pulled free.

She made no illusions to herself. He'd let her go because there was nowhere for her to run.

He's not going to kill me
, she told herself.
Not yet, at least.

"I think your little escape is over now," said the warrior. "Come along and I will not hurt you."

Zoey raised the glove in front of her, backing away.

"One step," she warned him, "and I will do what I promised."

Attempt to, at least. He's no joke. I wonder if he's a clan lord as well.

As soon as the idea occurred to her, Zoey realized it had to be true. He walked with the same arrogant pride as all warlords did, confident in themselves and their capability. The man in front of her definitely wasn't some trooper. He looked like he gave orders, not obeyed them.

"Who are you?" she asked, still retreating.

The warrior followed, his expression unchanging. Zoey noticed he hadn't even pulled his swords free. No need for them to deal with her, apparently. She frowned.

And of course the man didn't respond. Apparently he wasn't the type of villain to carelessly explain his master plan to her, but Zoey had a mind of her own. She'd seen enough on the ship to start piecing the clues together.

"You're working with the Yemalan," she said. "I heard you. If your chieftain hears of this, you're dead. I know your kind. He won't even reach you. The first Corgan will kill you."

A smile answered her, as cold and calculating as the man himself.

"My kind," he replied, "has gone insane. Mad times call for unusual allies."

"They won't forgive you for this."

"They will not know," he replied.

Not a mute after all, huh. Alright, what else can I get from you?

Unaware as to whether she would ever have the opportunity to relay the information to Daegon, Zoey pressed on. She figured he wouldn't tell her anything if he thought she had the slightest chance of fighting back. That was not a comforting thought – she had no way of escaping him, only delaying the inevitable.

"You can't be sure of that, but go ahead," she said. "But why? I thought all Corgans hated Yemalan with a passion."

Now there was finally a reaction from him. The bright blue eyes flashed with fury and he growled, "We do. I hate this filth. Simply being here stains me, but it cannot be helped."

Zoey's mind was working frantically, trying to tug at every clue he was giving her.

"If you are here," she began, "it means you couldn't find allies within your own people."

The warrior glared, and for a second, Zoey thought that that would be the end of her. He would cut her head off before she even saw the twin swords drawn. But they remained sheathed.

"The others are traitors," the man replied with pure disgust. "I've had to kill quite a few already. Many more will die before we are great again."

Wonderful. I should report
this
back to the Union's main council. They'd love to hear how unthinkable joining us is.

"You promised them something," she realized suddenly. "The Yemalan. They wouldn't fight for you out of loyalty. You said you'd give them a world."

The warrior halted in his steps, stopping a few feet from her. Zoey did too, still holding her gloved hand up to try and stop him if he decided keeping her alive wasn't worth the trouble.

The moment seemed to come sooner than she would have liked.

"Promises," said the warrior, finally drawing the blade, "are easy to make."

"You don't plan to keep it," Zoey said. "You will have a lot of enemies."

The warlord smiled, but there wasn't even an ounce of warmth in it. The price of his actions seemed fine with him.

"I hoped to execute you more publicly," he said quietly, coming towards her again with purposeful strides. "But I see you're not as stupid as you could be. All the worse for you. I suppose it doesn't matter. The implications are clear enough. I would love to hear what the Union thinks of this arrangement after their ambassador gets brutally murdered."

You don't have to make it brutal, you bastard
, Zoey thought furiously.

He charged and so did she. With all caution thrown to the wind when it was clear she only had one chance to live, Zoey managed to jump out of the way of his first swing. It landed her right in front of him. She could see the brilliant blue eyes stare at her as she threw the hardest punch she could.

The glove hit right under his chin. It would have knocked the air out of a normal person's lungs, but the warlord certainly had organs to compensate. The impact wasn't what made him stumble. Zoey had felt his body shake under the shock and saw a nasty burn on his flesh. When he looked up, his eyes were filled with loathing.

"I will not make it quick for you," he hissed, pulling the other sword free as well.

Zoey didn't stay to gloat about finally being worthy of two blades like a proper opponent. She turned on her heels and ran. She'd used the single shot she had and it hadn't killed the warlord. Zoey could hear him follow with a small limp due to the shock he'd received, but she knew he'd catch her nonetheless. And this time, she wouldn't get close enough for a second hit.

She thought of Daegon again. How far behind was he? Zoey ran, desperately wishing that she had the opportunity to send him a message with everything she'd found out. She didn't know the name of the man chasing her, but surely Daegon would be able to figure it out.

She didn't want her death to be in vain. Of course, Zoey didn't want to die at all. The more she thought about it, hearing the warlord come closer with every step, the less she was ready to go. There were too many things she still wanted to experience, and most of them seemed to have something to do with one name.

Daegon
. She wanted to see Daegon again.

And then she did. From the darkness in front of her, two impossibly blue eyes shone at her. Without truly seeing him, Zoey recognized him immediately. The blue amber eyes were hateful, but softened for a second when their gaze slipped on her.

Zoey dashed right into his arms and he caught her, pulling her tightly against his body. She stayed there, trying to catch her breath for a long minute before realizing that the man who had chased her was no longer there.