Empress Game: The Empress Game Trilogy Book 1 (35 page)

“I’m going to give you something else,” he said, and the words froze Malkor in place. It wasn’t in Rutcker’s nature to be generous with intel. “Not for free, let’s put this in the category of ‘you owe me.’”

Unease prickled across Malkor’s skin. “Will I?”

“If the rumors are right, you’re about to.” Rutcker regained his confident air. He had what he wanted, and more than that, he had something Malkor needed—even if Malkor didn’t know what that something was yet. “I’ve got a tip for you, friend to friend.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” Rutcker was the best kind of informant: high enough in the criminal element to have access to useful intel, and smart enough not to waste Malkor’s time. If he had something worthwhile, something Malkor hadn’t even asked around about yet, it had to be big.

“When I say your agent’s working for someone well-connected, I don’t mean on my side of the fence.” His lips quirked in a grin. “You want to find her handler? Look at home, first.”

Rutcker adjusted the fit of his cuff. “Things aren’t as cohesive in your little org as you’d like to think. There’s a split coming, and man,” he chuckled, “are you on the wrong side.” He made his way past Malkor, giving him a clap on the shoulder as he went. “I’d ask your commander about it.”

T
he next morning, Kayla followed Malkor silently through the corridors on their way to the Ilmenans’ quarters. She had too much on her mind to talk and he looked equally troubled.

Seven Wyrds had been taken from Ordoch according to Parrel, Vayne among them. In her heart she had already known. How else could Dolan have mimicked Vayne?

More disturbingly, how had Dolan regained his psi powers, and stamped them with Vayne’s essence… and what had happened to Vayne in the process? Her head swam with scenarios. If Vayne still lived, she couldn’t imagine what state he was in after five years as the
kin’shaa
’s prisoner.

Kayla pushed those questions to the back of her mind when they reached Tia’tan’s quarters. All four Ilmenans awaited them. Joffar, the eldest male, sat apart from the rest, perched at the breakfast bar with the look of overseeing things. The bodyguard, Luliana, had been leaning against a wall, but pushed off to stand behind Tia’tan, who was seated on a couch next to Noar.

Awkward quiet ensued while the two sides sized each other up. The Ilmenans had committed to trusting her in a big way at the Game yesterday, it was time to show she was willing to trust as well.

“Thank you,” Kayla said, “for allowing us to win the Empress Game. Putting Isonde on the throne is the best way to free my people, and that’s all I want.”

Tia’tan nodded, seeming to relax. “We believe you… now.”

It was more trust than Kayla might have given, were their situations reversed. It had taken watching Isonde in action, hearing her speak about her plans to convince the empire to withdraw from Ordoch, to win Kayla over to their side. “Malkor and I are willing to share our intel on the Ordochian prisoners with you.
If
you agree to work with us on a rescue mission.”

Until that moment, the Ilmenans had seemed content to pretend that Malkor wasn’t in the room. Being forced to acknowledge his presence displeased the whole lot of them.

Tough.

Malkor was the only reason they even had a chance of rescuing her people. He’d spent hours yesterday digging into off-limits files, calling in favors from all ends of the empire, putting himself and his career on the line to track down their whereabouts.

“How can we trust him?” Tia’tan asked.

Malkor kept his silence, letting Kayla speak for him. She could offer a dozen examples of his loyalty. The fact that he stood here now should be proof enough. She had a dozen reasons, but only one mattered.

“Because I trust him with my life.” The truth of the words sank in, filling her with certainty. She trusted him, without hesitation. He was her partner, had been from the beginning, even though she hadn’t realized it.

Her words caught him off-guard, judging by the way he stilled. Then he smiled the slightest bit, and she knew he felt the same.

Tia’tan’s gaze went to Malkor and back again before she nodded. “That will have to be enough.”

“For me as well,” Noar said. “So. What have you learned?”

Kayla made herself comfortable on the opposite couch with Malkor.

“Our intel indicates that Dolan kidnapped seven people from Ordoch,” Malkor said. “All seven were presumed alive at time of capture. Only three of their identities are known: Vayne—Kayla’s twin—and Erebus and Natali, their older twin brother and sister. The rest are unknown, as is their current status. I haven’t gotten hard and fast confirmation of where they are being held.” Malkor glanced at Kayla, looking apologetic. “If any survived this long.”

“They did.” Tia’tan sounded certain. “Our people endure. We will find them.”

“Dolan had been granted funding to establish a laboratory on Falanar shortly before his return from Ordoch. He keeps offices in the palace, but does all of his research from that laboratory on the edge of the royal city.”

The idea of Vayne being that “research” infuriated her. Dolan’s death couldn’t come soon enough to suit her.

“We believe he’s holding the Ordochians there.” Malkor laid the datapad he’d brought on the table, calling up a schematic. “I lifted these plans for the facility. Based on layout, conduit placement, electrotech relay wiring, ventilation clearance and so on, I was able to eliminate a number of zones from our search.”

Joffar came to peer at the floor plans. “That still leaves a lot of area. How many agents do you have at your disposal?”

“Those of my octet, and some have business elsewhere and can’t join the mission.”

“How many other octets can you enlist? We could use more manpower.”

The guarded look Kayla had noticed earlier came back into Malkor’s eyes. “It will be just my octet.”

“If you don’t have the authority to activate at least another octet, perhaps your commander—”

“No.” Malkor’s abruptness silenced the room.

What was that about? Had Parrel forbidden him from further action against Dolan, despite the fact that taking prisoners of war violated imperial wartime laws?

“The details of this raid will not go beyond my octet. Period.” His frown forbade further argument.

“We’ll narrow down our search, then,” she said, bending her attention to the schematic. “What are these shunts, here?”

The conversation turned to common architectures and the likely use of each possible space in Dolan’s facility. They whittled it down to a handful of possible areas. Assuming, of course, they were even correct about the location in the first place.
It’s our best guess
. What other options did they have but to try it? They’d never find her people, else.

“My men and I will have a secondary objective while on the mission,” Malkor said, pointing to the spaces defined as tech/lab rooms. “We’ll access Dolan’s databanks and retrieve the files on his experiments to date.”

“No frutting way,” Tia’tan snapped. “Dividing our team lessens our chance of success. Anything jeopardizing our rescue of the Ordochians is unacceptable.”

“That’s why it’s called a secondary objective. Look. Dolan’s had your people for five years and he didn’t kidnap them for their company. Also, he has an unholy fascination with Kayla. With… obtaining her. He’s been planning something for longer than five years.”

“What?” Joffar asked.

“I don’t know, that’s why we need to get into Dolan’s files.”

“Our people—”

“Believe me,” Malkor said, “rescuing the Ordochians is my first priority, but I have to think of my people as well. Whatever Dolan’s plans, they can’t be for the good of the empire, no matter that he presents himself as our ally.” Malkor paused before adding, “I don’t think he’s working alone, either.”

That set everyone on edge.

“We go tonight,” Kayla said. “It can’t wait any longer.” Two days from now she’d be married to Prince Ardin and up to her eyeballs in protocol and official engagements. These were her last days of freedom. “Let’s pin down the details.”

* * *

Kayla prowled her rooms in the Game complex. She and Isonde would be housed here until the wedding, until she moved into the palace with Ardin. They were familiar rooms and normally comfortable, but today they felt like a cell.

Her thoughts looped over and over, incessant spirals that led one into another. They ground her down with their relentless voice, set her pacing the confines of her room in a futile effort to escape the weight they bore.

Hours remained before the mission and already she felt like she could snap.

She had to get out of here, get out of her head.

All she could hear was:
Is Vayne still alive?
He had to be.
What if he wasn’t?
Who else had made it? What if she were searching the wrong location? What if Dolan found her there? What if she found Vayne there?
Is Vayne still alive?
He had to be.
What if he wasn’t?

She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, trying to calm herself, trying to calm the voice.

Breathe. Just breathe. She could do this. She would do this.

But what if—

Breathe.

Tea. Tea would help. Tea or tranquilizers.

Kayla punched in the selection on the food synthesizer unit and peeled the coolant packs off her shoulder as she waited. The damage was finally beginning to heal, now that she’d had several days of rest without fighting. She tested her range of motion. A spike of pain jabbed into her shoulder at the top arc of her rotation, but it disappeared as soon as she swung through.

Better. Much better.

The same could not be said for Isonde. Kayla perched on a stool at the breakfast bar with her tea. Toble had broken the news when she and Malkor returned from the meeting with the Ilmenans this morning. The toxin resisted all efforts to flush it out. Even though he kept Isonde as relaxed as possible, her vitals had begun to destabilize. Toble couldn’t say how much longer she might last.

Malkor had stormed from the suite upon hearing the news, rage and pain and fear scrawled across his face. Now Kayla waited alone, with the best hope for her people dying in the next room.

Worry ramped up again. She sipped her tea, trying to ignore the rising flood. She’d visited Corinth earlier in hopes that some time with him would soothe her. It hadn’t. Corinth’s worry over her part in the rescue mission had been a living thing, filling the room and fueling her stress. In the end she’d had to leave, and Vid had taken Corinth for a walk to get his mind off things.

She knew she should probably try to sleep, but even sitting still this long taxed her nerves. The immediate crisis of the rescue mission consumed most of her thoughts, but she couldn’t ignore the realization that one way or another, tomorrow would come. Then, the day after that. Even if they rescued her people, even if she was reunited with Vayne, with her family, one truth remained: she was locked into playing the part of Isonde. Her chances of escaping that fate faded with each of the princess’s weakening breaths.

Her people would return to Wyrd Space. She would be alone. Truly alone, for the first time. She’d send Corinth back to Ilmena with Tia’tan and her people. She needed him safe, needed him to have a whole life, not the pathetic half-existence she’d made for him these last five years. He needed training and family and… everything. She could give him everything by sending him back, everything except a
ro’haar
. She’d stay behind, play her part as Isonde. The needs of her people could not be set aside no matter what she wanted.

Every day she’d have to don the disguise, the voice, the politics, the morals of Isonde. She’d lose herself little by little. The charade would suffocate her until the lines bled. Choices made, relationships cultivated; who would she decide as, Kayla playing Isonde, or Isonde? Where would one end and the other begin? She’d lose the ability to tell.

She felt like she was drowning under the weight of her responsibilities, suffocating from the frustration of being choiceless. Kayla gripped her mug of tea and flung it against the wall. It smashed in a splash of brown liquid and crystal but the violence couldn’t satisfy her. She hopped up and grabbed her chair with both hands, knuckles white. Her rage burned so hot and fast that she couldn’t breathe. She lifted the chair, ready to do… what? She wanted to slam it against the floor a hundred times until she’d slaked the violence of fear inside. She wanted to hurl it full-force across the room. Her arms shook from the effort of standing still.

Hot tears pricked her eyes, stung, spilt over. The chair slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. Her life was being pried from her, her choices, her future. The dream of what she might have had slipped away. She sank to her knees and covered her face in shame at the tears she couldn’t stop.

Her door sounded, then slid open before the chime had faded away.

“I commed you—” Malkor’s voice. “Kayla?” He crossed the room in a second to kneel beside her. “What’s wrong?” He touched her, his hand landing gently on her back.

His murmured words, his touch, it was too much. It was all too much. She turned into him, her heart aching for everything she couldn’t have.

“I don’t want to be Isonde,” she whispered.

He gathered her tightly to him but said nothing. There was no other choice and they both knew it.

She cried against his chest, hungry for his comfort.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. His lips brushed her hair and she wept harder. “I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded as ragged as her emotions.

Time passed but his grip never eased. Even when her sobs subsided into quiet and her tears began to dry, he held her. She finally tilted her head up. He looked pained and reckless, something wild haunting his eyes while he gazed at her. So close. Before he could move, before the moment could pass, she kissed him.

He held perfectly still as he had that first time so long ago in the Blood Pit. He waited as if to say, are you sure you want this? She cupped the back of his neck and pulled his lips more firmly against hers. He made the slightest sound against her mouth, then he kissed her back. His arms tightened, melding her to him even as she pressed closer. His mobile comm buzzed and he stripped it from his hip to toss aside.