Tara The Great [Nuworld 2] (41 page)

front door.”

The two women discussed a course of action. Tara would walk back to the gliders.

She’d allow a half-hour to pass before flying over the force field directly to Dorn

Gowsky’s house. Tealah would allow the same amount of time to pass, then approach

the front entrance.

She assured Tara the guards would allow her to enter; after all, it was her home and

when they’d left, she’d been in good standing with Dorn. She was sure Tasha

manipulated her way into the house, and Dorn would kick her out when he returned.

Tara didn’t bother to mention how manipulative her sister could be, and that Tealah

might have a fight on her hands.

They agreed Tealah would say she’d escaped from the Lunians, and with the

Neurians aiding in battle, she’d been unable to find her people and had returned home.

She would make a big deal out of the battle and how the Neurians were fighting

desperately to help save the planet from these invaders. Both women hoped such a

story would provide ample distraction to allow Tara to find and take the baby, Tigo.

“One last thing,” Tealah said as they stood in the dark of the vacant house. “When

you take Tigo, would you please kill your sister?”

The question came as a shock to Tara, and for the first time she was glad for the

darkness. She guessed eliminating Tasha would make life much easier for Tealah, who

obviously didn’t want to lose her place at Dorn’s side or in his bed.

“Tasha won’t stop me from taking the child,” Tara said, hoping Crator didn’t have

a problem with the feelings that ran through her at Tealah’s request. Tara wanted to

assure Tealah that Tasha would be killed, and she had to admit she’d imagined

different ways of eliminating her half-sister. A Runner didn’t attack unless attacked

first, and certainly Tasha had started the battle when she birthed Darius’ bastard child.

But for some reason, voicing premeditated consent rubbed wrong with Tara. She

couldn’t place her finger on the reason why.

As the two women returned to the gliders, Tealah briefed Tara on what she’d see

approaching Dorn Gowsky’s house. The front doors opened to the north. Tara would

land on the southwest side, where there were fewer windows. The garage and barn

were on the opposite side of the house. Other than the trees planted along the edge of

the property, there was no foliage near the house. This meant Tara’s glider couldn’t be

parked there long before it would be detected. Explaining why Tara was there if she

were caught would be difficult. Her presence would be viewed as hostile. She’d have to

be quick.

Tara sat on her glider in the long shadows at the edge of the yard and studied

Gowsky’s house. Fortunately, the structure stood only one-story high and was rather

large. Tara could see to the end of the back of the house, but no farther. If someone

walked around the corner, Tara would see them immediately. Plenty of time to be

airborne before they could get to her.

The second window from the southwest corner was where Tealah suspected Tigo

would be. Tealah had given Tara an overview of the layout inside, and this window

was next to a small bedroom, which, in turn, was next to the master bedroom.

Tara had very little time. The longer she sat there, the more she risked being

discovered. Time to implement her plan. Tara needed to move her glider into the open

long enough to park next to the window, confirm the child was in that room, and take

him. Tara took a deep breath, assured herself Crator stood beside her in this matter, and

put her plan into action.

The window opened outward and two curtains moved gently with the breeze. Tara

stared inside the window, taking in what she saw. A small lamp shed light across the

room, and in a crib along the opposite wall slept a baby. Tara saw blond curls and a

small body dressed in a long white shirt. All she had to do was crawl through the

window, grab the child, and leave. This would be simple.

As long as no one saw her.

Tara looked along both sides of the house, saw no one, then stuck her head into the

window. The door to the hallway was open, and she heard voices coming from

somewhere in the house. Another doorway led into what she assumed was the master

bedroom, from Tealah’s description. The door opened toward her, however, and she

couldn’t see beyond it.

Climbing through the window proved no problem. She could hear the child

breathing—a congested snore. She’d never thought the baby might not be healthy.

Hopefully, it was just a cold, and not a bad one.

The woman had nerve.

Tara felt a sudden urge to pull her laser and kill her sister. Never before had she

experienced such intense animosity toward another person. Tasha continued to rub salt

in the open wounds she had created in Tara’s emotions. Not only that, but the woman

could offer Gowsky incredible knowledge of the Runners. The fact she had her bastard

child with her was a reminder to all knowledgeable Neurians that a potential threat to

the heir of Gothman resided in the Neurian leader’s home.

It would be so simple to raise her laser and kill both of them. Tara’s fingers itched to

grab her weapon, and she hesitated as she approached the crib.

No, she wouldn’t kill her sister tonight. The baby needed to be turned over to the

Lunians, and a war needed to be stopped. Tara forced herself to focus on the mission.

She kept walking, leaned over, and raised the sleeping child to her breast, wrapping

the blanket that had covered him around his pudgy body. He groaned and coughed,

then nuzzled up to her and went back to sleep.

She had him.

Crawling out of the window, trying not to wake the somewhat heavy bundle in her

arms, wasn’t as easy as getting in had been. Although just brief minutes had passed, it

felt like hours before she jumped onto the glider and lowered the dome. Tara hadn’t

seen, or heard any sign of Tealah, but couldn’t worry about the Neurian woman right

now. She had the baby. Now all she had to do was escape without confrontation.

Tara adjusted the baby in her arms and started the glider.

Something caught her eye as she drove quickly away from the house. She turned in

time to see Tasha standing at the open window, screaming into the night.

“No! No! My baby. Someone’s taking my baby!”

That was the last Tara heard as she accelerated with haste in order to gain enough

speed to go airborne and clear the force field.

An hour at high speed passed before Tara believed she’d pulled it off. No one

appeared to be following, although she knew she’d been seen. Maybe they’d tried, but

didn’t know what direction she’d taken. Maybe she’d gained enough distance on them

that they weren’t able to find her. Maybe she’d make it back and turn over the child

before they could find her. Maybe.

Tasha might assume her sister stole her child. But what could she do about it? Her

sister had no clout. If she got the child to Polva, it would be her word against her

sister’s. Tasha wasn’t even allowed in clan territory—especially now that Tara was clan

leader.

Would Darius prevent Tasha from entering Gothman as well? Tara could only

hope. She maintained her speed but relaxed her body and her grip on the sleeping baby.

His breathing seemed to come easier now. He stretched his long pudgy legs and his

feet stuck out from underneath the blanket wrapped around him. The infant’s small

hand found her hand stretched across his hip and leg, and his fingers wrapped around

one of her fingers.

She looked down at his relaxed expression. Blond curls fell loosely across his

forehead. She stared at his innocent face. He hadn’t asked for any of this—all the hatred

that stemmed from his very existence. He’d been conceived from a malicious, hateful

act. But it wasn’t his fault. She prayed Polva would be a good mama to him.

He looked just like Andru.

He looked just like his papa.

A lump formed in Tara’s throat. He was beautiful.

Tara fought to calm her agitated emotions. But when she did, she felt a pang of guilt

for what she planned for this child. Tara didn’t like Polva; the woman was spoiled and

self-focused. What kind of mama would she be to this boy? Not to mention the fact that

the Runners and Gothman planned to attack the Lunians until they changed their way,

or retreated from Nuworld. Then what would happen to this boy?

Tara looked away from the child. Her duty lay with the Runners and with

Gothman.

She forced herself to believe she was doing the right thing. This child threatened her

children by his mere existence. According to the law, if something happened to Andru,

this boy would be heir to Gothman.

Tara refused to allow her sister’s bastard that right.

She stared into the darkness and ignored the twisting discomfort growing inside

her. “You’ll make up for your birthright, little guy,” she spoke quietly to the sleeping

infant. “Tomorrow, you’ll help save a planet.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Darius and Dorn Gowsky stood at the edge of the forest. After discovering the

location of the Lunian campsite, they’d made arrangements for every available troop to

meet them. Over a thousand warriors waited for orders to attack.

Torgo contacted his older brother. “I’m on my way.”

“No.” Darius shook his head as he spoke. “You serve me best where you are, you

do.”

“You can whip me within an inch of my life, Darius. But you’ve kept me out of

battle long enough, you have. I daresay my functions can be better performed if I’m on

site.”

Darius knew his brother anxiously waited for news of Syra. And maybe the boy

was right. Torgo might be ready for battle. Either way, Torgo would show up whether

he approved or not.

Temporary hospitals were set up to take the injured once they were released. Reena

insisted on being part of this.

Patha contacted Darius and told him there was no keeping back the old woman.

“She won’t be happy if she isn’t making sure everyone rescued is treated properly.” The

old man laughed as he said this. “I’ll keep an eye on her, Darius. She wants to make

sure Tara is okay.”

Darius had plenty on his mind, keeping the attack and backup teams in order.

Therefore, when he signaled for the first regiment to move out against the exterior