Invasion Earth (3 page)

“We’re ready to take off,” the blond
continued. “So if you would take a seat.”

He looked pointedly at the bench seat on the
wall to her right. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.
The sooner she got to the ship topside, the sooner she could get
back to her own people and away from the man who, without even
trying, turned her inside out. She dropped the bag by her feet and
reached for the lap belt.

“Let me,” he said, pushing her hands away.
“We wouldn’t want you unsecured, would we?”

He finished with that sexy grin. Its effect
on her should be illegal. Or maybe it was the stressed
unsecured
that made her belly flip flop. Either way it was
bad for her and she knew it. The way a pound of dark chocolate was.
Tasty and rich, but it would go straight to her hips. She felt a
blush heat her face. Okay. Maybe not the best allusion.

Her just-calmed nerves came screaming back to
life. His hands were big, easily twice the size of hers, and she
wondered if the rest of him was as big. Just in time, she clenched
her fists to keep from grabbing him, but he noticed; grinning, he
took the seat beside her.

She looked up and met his gaze. “Who
are
you?” she asked through clenched teeth.

He smiled into her eyes, and to her shame,
she momentarily forgot he was the enemy. Who cared who he was? She
wanted him and she meant to have him. Soon. Very soon, if her
dampening pussy had any say in the matter.

“I’m General Alrik Torfa. That’s my brother,
Daggar.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Another general?”

“No.” He laughed. “He’s the Overchief of the
warrior caste.”

“Excuse me?” she asked with skepticism, her
ardor cooling with the shocking statement. “You have a caste
system?”

There hadn’t been an organized caste system
on Earth in centuries. It was barbaric and autocratic. The man was
sexy as hell but she was beginning to have major doubts about his
culture.

“Three castes,” he answered, ticking them off
on his fingers. “Artist, Healer, and Warrior. The Overchiefs of
each form our ruling council.”

Her regal description wasn’t so far off. She
listened with interest as he went on to describe his culture. It
sounded archaic to her. She had to grit her teeth against a
scathing reply when she learned that women were not allowed to
fight on Delroi, but somehow managed to sit calmly to hear more.
They lived in family groups, not so different from the people of
Earth, except there was no divorce on Delroi. She kept her
skepticism on that to herself. Alrik and Daggar were royalty. As
the elder son, Daggar had inherited the title of Overchief from his
father. She went cold when Alrik told her that their sons left home
to live in common barracks to begin warrior training at twelve. She
had friends who would never stand for it, letting their sons leave
home at such a young age, but apparently the women of Delroi got no
say in that. It was a true warrior society, with men placed firmly
at the top.

It wasn’t a lot of information, but it was
more than they’d had before. Her spies had found very little on
what these people were like on their own world. It was enough to
find a way to fight them here, and even if the war proved to be
over you could never have too much information. But she was uneasy
with what she learned, unable to see a way to use it to the
Alliance’s advantage.

Alrik caught Dagger’s approving nod over her
head. They were both reluctantly impressed with the woman. A steady
and measured soldier, she would make a fine addition to any
warrior’s bed. It was her composure and reputation that gave them
pause. Though surrounded by enemies, she was still gathering
intelligence, a trait that made her even more appealing to a son of
the ruling family. Her notoriety was less desirable. He wasn’t sure
how he felt about his woman being known as the Butcher of his
people or how he’d deal with his own anger over Roses. Not that it
mattered. She was his mate and he would claim her. The fact that
she was extraordinary in many ways was a bonus. Her infamy might be
turned to their advantage.

On their own planet, for reasons the
scientists couldn’t explain, women were being born in much lower
numbers, and they dwindled every year. In the last year, a mere
twenty percent of the babes born on his home world were female. The
seers had offered some hope though, directing them to this small
blue planet to find their mates. Decades of war, famine, and
plagues had decimated the male population. It was a perfect
solution for both their worlds, but the people had proven
surprisingly willing to fight. Aided in no small part by the
brilliant strategist sitting beside him, he acknowledged with
pride.

She would have to give up the art of war, of
course. The women on his world didn’t participate in such
activities and as his mate she certainly wouldn’t need to work. He
grinned. He suspected there would be many interesting fights over
that. The women of Earth, he’d found, were an independent lot. He
and his brother hoped she would help forge the way in a sort of
ambassadorial position, but for now he would keep that to
himself.

He felt the small craft’s engines slow to
dock with his brother’s ship. They had set aside rooms for the
Earth guests—the hostages who would stay onboard while the talks
went on—but she wouldn’t be in hers long. His plans should be well
underway by now. He’d give her a few hours, let her relax into a
false sense of security, before he moved her to where she really
belonged. In his rooms, in his bed. At his side.

But his plans could wait a short while. He
could be patient. Several minutes later, instead of escorting her
to his rooms, he led her to one of the guest cabins. He pointed out
the common room down the corridor where the evening reception would
be held and watched her disappear. He hated to leave her, but
rejoiced in knowing that tomorrow night he would have her right
where he wanted her.

Chapter Three

Laney dropped her bag on the bed and went in
search of the common room. As she expected, the room was packed and
the din was loud with many voices. It was a large space. She
noticed a curved bar and tall restaurant-like coolers along the
inside wall. Opposite it was a huge window, but she only spared a
glance for the layout of the room or space beyond the glass.

The occupants were a mix of Delroi and Earth
soldiers and the two groups were carefully circling each other. She
looked around, half dreading and half wanting to see Alrik, but he
wasn’t there. Several of his men were, though, and she noticed them
speak to their fellows, felt the heavy gaze of their regard. It was
disconcerting to be the recipient of such close scrutiny. An
unaccustomed and unwelcomed feeling for her.

She forced her gaze to flit by them and
straightened her spine, pushing her way through the crowded space
and looking for her old friend and boss, General Darren. She
finally located him at the bar.

“Hand me one of those, Bob.” She pointed to
the beer on ice in a big barrel at his side.

“Laney! What happened to you? Are you
okay?”

“I’m fine,” she scowled. “I caught the second
transport. Why? No one told you?”

His expression hooded and he nodded at
someone behind her. She turned to see the Prime Minister and his
Chief of Staff, General Scott, approach.

“Prime Minister. Sir,” she greeted them.

The other two hostages, or guests, whatever
you wanted to call them, hovered close by and she frowned. She
didn’t really know General Black, but she knew Colonel Eldridge all
too well. They’d butted heads more than once, most recently over
whether it was worth it or not to refuse peace talks and let the
Delroi do their worst with the
Doomsayer
. It wouldn’t matter
after tonight, since the enemy was scheduled to hand it over to
Earth forces at midnight. Laney’s objections had more to do with
honor than anything else; they’d agreed to these peace talks. She’d
be damned before she didn’t give them a shot. But Eldridge met her
bold stare with one of amusement and gut instinct told her there
was more than the normal number of secrets circulating through the
gathering tonight.

“Well, what do you think, Sergeant Major?”
the Prime Minister asked.

Eldridge smiled at her. The smile she only
saw when he managed to one up her. A hush fell over the crowd. It
was obvious she had missed something important. She raised both
eyebrows.

“About what, sir?”

He blinked in surprise. “No one told you?”
Bob shook his head beside her.

“Told me what?”

“They have a very simple offer for us,” he
said with a grimace. “Peace and trade in exchange for a marriage
between our worlds.”

“Marriage?” she asked, not quite believing
her ears. “Like a real marriage? Between one of them and one of
us?”

He nodded.

“That’s insane. We haven’t done that kind of
thing in centuries and there aren’t any ruling families anymore.
How would we pick the victim? I mean bride,” she added letting an
uncharacteristic edge of sarcasm color her tone.

“Oh, they already have one in mind, Sergeant
Major,” the Prime Minister answered.

The silence grew and she looked around
suspiciously. “Who?”

“You of course,” he said. “They expect you to
marry one of their generals.”

“Which one?” she whispered, certain she
already knew and struggling for control.

“His name is Torfa. He’s apparently the
brother of some kind of king,” he answered quietly.

“And what did you say?” she asked, but
suspected she already knew the answer to that too.

The Prime Minister looked at her sadly, but
she’d known him a long time and wasn’t buying it. She’d disapproved
when the Assembly had picked him, but what could she do? Seize
power for herself? Even if she’d had the support to do it, what did
she know about running a government, especially in peacetime?

“I’m sorry Sergeant Major. We just don’t have
a choice.”

“Of course,” she answered, anger beginning to
swirl through her stomach. Hell, she even understood it. One woman
was worth sacrificing for an entire planet, right? “If you’ll
excuse me, I’ll be in my quarters.”

She sat the untouched beer on a nearby table
and quickly strode from the room, fully aware of her weakening
control. Power was key to surviving in the high stakes, high ranks
world she moved in. It did not pay to lose control. Her cool and
calm were well known and had led to her achieving the highest rank
available to an enlisted soldier in their Armies. Hell, she had
more influence and power than most of their generals. But now she
was gripped with an urge to toss that all aside and throw
something, and it appalled her.

She entered the room, observing the smooth
open and close slide of the door with regret. No satisfying
slamming there. Pacing was unsatisfactory too, in the small space.
Three feet up and three feet back. She growled in disgust and
turned to the door.

Her mounting rage had more than one focus. It
was bad enough her own people were willing to sell her off like a
chattel, but that barbarian had sat and talked with her. Sat and
calmly, condescendingly, explained the role of women in his culture
without a word about this—and surely he knew! It infuriated her.
And it hurt, her heart constricting as if held in the grip of a
vise. She’d thought she’d seen respect in his eyes, but she’d
obviously been wrong. Why did that matter so much? Her body’s own
betrayal was worse, even now keying up for him. Enough! She would
find him and give him a piece of her mind. The jerk had it coming
and it was the only way to work off this energy. She was
never
having sex with him. No way.

She didn’t have a clue where she was on the
ship, and retraced her steps back to the shuttle bay. Workers
teemed and several warriors lounged against a wall. She approached
them.

They eyed her warily.

“Where’s General Torfa?” she asked.

They looked at her as if she had two heads
and her gaze narrowed. She knew how to deal with men. Bulldoze over
them and refuse to take no for an answer. Directing her gaze to the
tall one she’d followed onto the shuttle earlier she spoke.

“Take. Me. To. General. Torfa.” She
enunciated each word, growing more furious with each delay.

Finally, he responded.

“Of course, Sergeant Major. This way.”

The others deferred to him and they showed no
surprise when he spoke her rank. Did everyone know who she was? Why
she was there? The thought only served to fuel her fury.

The warrior walked a maze through the ship.
She would never find her own way back. She was positive he did it
on purpose. After she was completely lost, he stopped in front of a
door and rapped his knuckles on it three times.

“Enter.”

He stepped just inside, blocking her behind
him and came to attention. “The Sergeant Major would like to see
General Torfa, my lord,” he said.

“Send her in,” she heard that velvety voice
again, and her body, traitor that it was, responded. Her pussy
dampened and clenched in anticipation. She beat back her libido,
called up her anger, and stepped around the warrior.

“You’re dismissed, Captain,” Torfa said.

“You son of a bitch,” she said, ignoring the
others in the room.

He arched an eyebrow. “My mother would
probably disagree.”

“Really? But it’s okay to just sell women off
on your world, isn’t it? Forgive me if I don’t rush to trust her
judgment. How could you sit there, knowing about this, and not say
anything? How could you sit there, treat me like an equal, like a
soldier deserving of respect, and do something like this?” She
looked at him and mustered as much scorn as she could. She wanted
him to feel her pain, her disappointment that he thought so little
of her, of her needs. It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t a touchy
feely, share your emotions kind of woman. Anger was so much easier
to deal with. “What makes you think I’d be willing to spend any of
my life with a barbarian like you?”