Authors: Lauren Dane

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotic fiction, #General, #Adult, #Erotica, #Mercenary troops

Mesmerized (21 page)

BOOK: Mesmerized

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Chapter 13

T
hey filed into the room, and Piper was very proud that she’d held back her impulse to jump into Andrei’s arms and laugh when they’d let her stay. It had been, she thought, a very fine bluff. Oh sure, the things she said were true. She was a good pilot; she knew how to shoot and be sneaky. But they were so much more than that. She could see it simply in the way they all moved.

These four men in the room with her moved like predators. She could have walked by Julian on any street and despite the handsome face, the way he held his shoulders, the way he listened, she’d never have chosen to cross him or even interact with him. They were all this way. Still, they were all quite delicious to look at, especially Andrei. Though the others seemed to talk more, her attention was always on him. Even when she was listening to Vincenz set up the connections to the other people who’d connect in by comm, a corner of her mind was on him, the way he sat next to her.

Probably to keep her from doing or saying something crazy. She hid a smile. This was serious business, and she knew it. She needed to prove herself to Ellis and these other men. Prove herself worthy of protecting Andrei and of their trust, too.

Two men showed up via remote, one with hair dark like Andrei’s, though his was thick and just to a collar’s length. The kind a woman would love to run her fingers through. He wore a band on his intended finger. A committed man then. The other man, well, this was a predator, too. Pale hair. She thought of the right shade, gold. Yes, the color of her favorite ale. Arrogant features. Ramrod-straight spine. This man was used to giving orders and having people follow them to the letter. This man was, she knew, Roman Lyons.

Turned out Andrei was even more important than she could have imagined. Pride warmed her.

“The samples Andrei brought back are indeed Liberiam. None of them are processed.” Vincenz spoke as he dragged the data up to the main screen they all faced. “We know the gel is also unprocessed. At least what we’ve found. So the key is Mirage. Here. We’ve got two sources for raw materials and none are processed. Taking that sort of mass over the line into the Imperium would be impossible.”

“Why not assume they’d use unregistered portals instead?”

“None of those go directly into Imperialist territory.” Piper spoke up, feeling on solid ground at last.

“Roman, Daniel, this is Piper Roundtree. We’ve brought her on as a special attaché to Andrei. Her knowledge of the cargo running business will be quite useful.” Ellis actually winked at her when no one was looking. Why, the cheeky man! Piper bet he’d intended to have her part of the team from the beginning.

Daniel looked at Andrei, who gave that shrug of his. Piper might have been insulted, but there had been the ghost of a smile on his lips. For her. About her. She knew enough from how Andrei spoke of Daniel. Knew Daniel was his closest friend. Which made Piper want him to like her.

“How do you run cargo to the other side then?” Roman spoke up. “Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Roundtree,” he added, remembering his manners.

“No problem. Understand that what cargo I do run to the other side is not munitions. Never that. But I don’t run it into their territory. I almost always run it to the Frontier. Ceres or Nondal. There’s a completely other sort of cargo runner who takes it from there.”

“You said almost always. What about when it’s not almost always?” Ellis’s gaze sharpened on her as his fingers tapped over the keys of his comm unit.

“Twice I’ve taken a run to the Waystation.”

Daniel leaned toward the screen as the rest stared at her.

“Go on, please. How does it work from there?”

“The stationmaster’s nephew takes it over. At least that’s what I understand. We dock, they confiscate the cargo and make us leave. I assume they run it from there, but I don’t know for sure.”

“What did you run those two times?”

“Botanicals for perfumes and enhancements for women. You know, for face creams and that sort of thing. The botanicals are not on any restricted list. I told you, I don’t run the bad stuff.

“Both times you ran this same load of botanicals? What was different that you took it to the Waystation?” Roman asked.

“One of the largest companies in all the Federation Universes was what was different. Anyway, I know others—other mercs, I mean—have dropped at the Waystation, too.”

“Wyath Labs?” Daniel began to type, as did Vincenz.

“They must be involved. Look up what they’re making. Those botanicals might be a key.”

They all began to talk around her, and Andrei took her in, noting the way she shook her head.

“What is it?” He leaned close, all his attention on her.

“I don’t think Wyath has anything do to with this mess. They’re just a big corporation who wants to make money. They make glosses for lips and hope in a jar for women who wouldn’t have considered the extravagant price on their anti-aging creams even just a year or two before. They’re certainly evil, but in the same way most large businesses like that are. This is a whole different kind of evil. I don’t think this is connected.”

“Do you remember the specific botanicals?”

“I don’t. But I swear to you I checked to be sure none of them were banned. Mainly because I didn’t want some girl’s nose to fall off or her lips to get blisters. I can ask Kenner. He remembers everything.”

Andrei took her personal comm and keyed in several lines of coding. “Contact him and get the exact cargo manifest.”

“Do you trust my feelings on this?”

“Yes.” He answered without a pause of any kind.

It wasn’t more than five minutes or so before they had all the information, and it looked very much like Piper had been right. Though she didn’t gloat. Certainly they knew way more about this sort of thing than she did.

“All right. So it appears to be nothing more than greed because Wyath has begun to do business in the Imperium and they didn’t want to pay the tariffs.” Roman’s expression, even with the distance of space and the screen, didn’t bode well for Wyath at all.

“One of my people just went to speak with their owner. He didn’t much like being woken up. But I don’t care what that bastard feels. However, I don’t very much like to hear the Waystation being involved in this. At all.”

“Could explain the problem we’ve had with our intel being leaked.” Andrei brought up the files on the Waystation master and then the man’s nephew.

Ellis sucked in a breath. “Daniel, on that. Now.”

Daniel got up to speak with someone else, returning shortly.

They spoke, discussing the probability of a processing plant being somewhere on Mirage and how they’d go about finding it. Mirage was one of the largest ’Verses in the entire system. It was covered in geography of several types, but mostly it was hot, dirty and filled with giant cracks in the ground and sharp-faced canyons. It was entirely possible to have set up a processing plant, several of them, and remain undetected.

They had been in the process of signing off when someone burst into Daniel’s office with a wail. Ellis’s comm began to ping, and Vincenz’s screens froze and began to fill with data.

“Gods above and below,” Ellis breathed out as he read his comm. “Roman?”

“It’s true.” Roman turned to look at someone just off the screen. “I need an emergency convention of the entire Governance Council. I want every last member to be available either in chambers or via vid, and I want it to happen within the hour. Wilhelm, I need you back here.”

Piper, wide-eyed, knew something bad had happened, but Vincenz’s screens were tilted so he could see them best, and the glare kept her from reading whatever it was.

“Parron has just been hit. Massive airships came from the Portal without warning. They carpet bombed pretty much the entire surface. Initial data shows at least five thousand have been killed, but that’s just the early data.” Ellis looked back to them as he stood.

Piper went very, very cold, and she was grateful when Andrei reached out to take her hand, squeezing it.

“Did we have people there?” Andrei asked.

“Yes. I don’t know if they made it. As you can imagine, information is slow to get to us. We’ve sealed the portal traffic to all but official Federation transportation. I have to go and get this meeting set up. Keep Marcus apprised of your situation there.” Roman signed off.

“I must get back to Ravena.” Ellis turned to Piper.

“Sir, I know the location of two private portals in Parron.” She had to tell them. If the Imperialists were using them to kill people, mercs be damned, there were things far more important than running illegal liquor and black market conveyance parts.

“Thank you, Ms. Roundtree. I appreciate the data. I would ask you for similar information on other Edge ’Verses if you have it. I fear that if we do not close up these back doors, we’re far too vulnerable. And, Daniel, when you have that Waystation master picked up, along with his nephew, bring them directly to me. I want to know how Imperial airships can get through that many ’Verses without detection.”

Ellis jogged from the room.

“I need a drink.” Andrei stood.

“Let’s open up the big comms and get the data from the attack streaming in. We’re closer, so we should be able to pick information up.”

B
y the time Andrei stumbled into the room, it was long past moonset and only a breath or three from the rise of the first sun. Piper had tried to stay up with him, wanting to help in any way, but after she’d given them the coordinates of as many private portals as she had access to, she was pretty much just in the way.

He’d been devastated. They all had.

But that night he’d been swimming in the data. Two-thirds of the surface of Parron had been destroyed. Nearly ten thousand people had been killed. Close to a hundred thousand had been injured, and the number of missing rose more with the passing minutes. Utter and total devastation. An open declaration of war.

And for what? This is what bothered her so much. What purpose would there be to this choice by the Imperialists?

They’d sat and watched the footage from the meeting of the Governance Council. Had watched Roman Lyons announce he was sending troops to the Edge in great numbers. All portal traffic, other than medical and essential, to Parron would be rerouted past. The airships had been a huge strain on the system, slowing down even the essential travel needed to deliver medical supplies and personnel.

He stood there, and she turned to face him. In the dark she couldn’t see his features, but the tension in him vibrated. She knew what he needed so she got to her knees in the bed. “Come. I’m awake. Let me make it better. At least for a while.”

He was there, ripping at his clothes, naked in a few moments. There was no gentleness this time. His need was ferocious. Their coupling was hard and fierce, a thing of teeth and nails, of fingers and nails dug into flesh, of the hard slap as he thrust into her body, of her muffled cries of pleasure and his growls. His growls roamed over her senses like his hands on her skin.

The barely leashed desire, the way he snarled his need for her, it did her in.

When he’d finished, after he’d made her come twice, both times so hard she probably couldn’t move her legs for an hour, they lay together, her head resting on his shoulder as he drew a gentle line up and down her arm.

“I’m sorry.”

He paused, clearly surprised. “For what?”

“For all this pain. Not sorry because I caused it, sorry that it happened. Sorry you’re carrying their weight. All ten thousand dead, all the wounded. I know you better than anyone. I know you feel like you failed them in some way.”

“We should have known. It’s inexcusable that we did not know. It’s inexcusable that four airships—
four
airships—used a Federation portal to attack civilians. Why didn’t we know about the Waystation? Why didn’t I ask you about it? How could I have missed that?”

“You were a little busy finding that mine and destroying it. Getting the information you’ll now use to stop them. You will. I know you will. Stop blaming yourself for not being omnipotent. Even Andrei Solace can’t read the future. Maybe it’s my fault for not telling you up front. I’m the one who didn’t tell you. How is it not my fault?”

“Bullshit.” He swung from the bed and began to pace. “This isn’t your fault. We’re the ones who are supposed to know this stuff. You weren’t even involved until a week ago!”

She waited for him to wind down, these occasional bursts of intense emotion somehow making her feel better.

“So then, can we agree that neither of us willingly caused the murder of ten thousand civilians? That we can now move forward and stop them from doing it again?”

He growled, spinning, and she patted the bed beside her.

“Come back to bed. You need to rest. So do I. Let’s sleep a while so we can be ready for what the morning will bring. It’s not very far off anyway.”

BOOK: Mesmerized

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