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Authors: Amy A. Bartol

Under Different Stars (19 page)

BOOK: Under Different Stars
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The bluster in the N
arc’s voice is unmistakable. “When I make my report, Kyon, I’ll be sure to mention that to the Brotherhood. My trift is being made ready. You should join me. There’s nothing here for you now.”

“No, I’ll stay. Don’t be surprised if the information you impart does not throw you into a favorable light,” Kyon says easily. “Safe journey, Em Nark.”

“Haut Kyon,” the Narc responds formally, before feet crunch away on the path.

“What’s the prophecy?” I whisper to Trey. He turns quickly and covers my mouth with his hand, pulling me back against his chest. I still and listen for a second for any sound that would signal this kind of reaction from Trey. A soft humming noise, like a low vibration, throbs near us.

Trey tenses for just a second, and then he lifts me off my feet, carrying me while running back the way we came. A static noise sounds behind us, and looking over Trey’s shoulder, a shiny, long, bullet-like thing is following us. It’s emitting a green beam of light, scanning everything in the vicinity…like it’s looking for something.

“What the—” I breathe the words and instantly, the green light flashes on my face. The silver metal thing turns as if it has locked on to me; it streaks toward us like a missile. Horrified, I can only clutch Trey’s neck tighter and watch it near, emitting a high frequency noise that makes every hair on my body rise.

Just as it’s about to pierce Trey through the back with a long needle projection, he dives forward, carrying me with him head first into the pool beneath the fountain. Submerged beneath the lily pads, Trey’s body holds me under, pressing me to him like an anchor. My lungs are burning. I try pushing him off of me so that I can get to the top for air, but he’s not letting me go.

Opening my eyes, I see the green light scanning the water above us. I stop struggling, trying to stay beneath the water as bubbles of air escape from my mouth. The light from above slips away and Trey eases me to the surface of the water. Breaking the plane, I inhale air greedily.

Shouts and running feet pound on the gravel path behind the hedge near us. Someone yells, “Squelch tracker!” Then, the rapid fire of weapons erupts and a huge explosion sends me back under the surface of the water.

Trey’s hands wrap around me. He hauls me up again, pressing me tightly against his chest and stroking my wet hair. Shivering, more from trauma than from cold, I rest my cheek against his chest.

“Kricket, are you hurt?” Trey demands, pulling me away from him so I can look in his eyes.

“No,” I say breathlessly, seeing water dripping down the sides of his perfect face.

His hand reaches up, cupping my cheek and pulling my lips to his. The moment his lips touch mine, I lose all thought of squelch trackers, prophecies, and regent police. Wrapping my arms around Trey’s neck, I press closer to him while my heartbeat drums in my ears. Trey’s lips slip from mine, trailing a path of urgent kisses over my cheek to my neck. A coil of heat collects in my core and spreads to all of my extremities in an instant. My knees become weak, while a gasp of pleasure comes from me.

“Kitten,” Trey breathes, causing shivers of pleasure to flow through me at the endearment.

Finding his lips with my own, I breathe against them, “Honey,” before kissing him deeply and with a passion I didn’t know could exist. I try to savor every moment of this kiss, only to groan as Trey pulls away from me, letting go of me completely.

“Trey” I say his name softly, as footsteps sound on the gravel. Regent police burst forward near the fountain, training their guns on us.

Breathing hard, Trey says, “Lower your weapons. We were the targets.”

CHAPTER 16

TELL THE TRUTH

Splashing out of the fountain, Trey turns back to me, extending his hand and helping me out of the water. He picks me up off my feet and carries me toward the palace. The police fall in step beside us. I rest my cheek against his chest, relieved that I don’t have to try to walk on my shaky legs.

Trey glares at the men near him, barking out orders, “I want to know where every piece of the squelch tracker was manufactured. I want to know where it was likely launched—check its heat signature. I want new rooms for Kricket in a private area that will be occupied by me and several soldiers of my choosing.”

“You want her moved from the west arcade?” Ustus asks, appearing next to us. Looking at me, his face loses color, seeing that I’m soaking wet. “What happened?”

“Squelch tracker,” Trey growls while glaring at Ustus. “How did it get in through your security?”

“Stealthily,” Ustus replies, and his sarcasm causes Trey’s scowl to deepen. Seeing it, Ustus quickly amends, “I don’t know.”

“Find out and look for more,” Trey says through clenched teeth. “Where am I going?”

Ustus thinks about it for a second, and then he smiles. “There’s the gaming lodge, on the far side of the property. You’ll need to take a skiff to get there—I’ll also need to clear it with the Regent.”

“Fine. Send me Wayra, Jax, and someone to drive us there while you clear it with the Regent.” In minutes, Wayra and Jax round the corner, looking angry.

“Sir, what happened?” Jax asks while Wayra stares down everyone in our vicinity.

“I’ll brief you later. We’re taking up new quarters. I need you to secure them. Let’s go.” We follow the Regent agent who directs us to a skiff on the drive outside.

Trey opens the door and places me in the back seat, squeezing in next to me and putting his arm around my shoulders. Wayra sits up front with the driver while Jax faces us. No one speaks on the slow, winding drive, but Jax is taking in every dripping inch of us, trying to assess the situation. Pulling up in front of a dark, imposing mansion, which looks like an estate all by itself, I shiver, feeling cold and damp.

The place is beautiful, made of stone with a cedar shingle roof; it’s a true, historic hunting lodge. Trey exits the skiff, extending his hand to me and helping me out. He doesn’t drop my hand, but holds on to it as he leads me to the doors. Entering the mansion, Trey says loudly, “Illuminate hall, security—report respiration.”

A fem-bot voice responds, “There are four Etharians present.”

“Map voice recognition Trey Allairis.”

“Greetings, Trey Allairis,” the robotic voice responds.

“Kricket, say your name,” Trey instructs. When I do, the robot repeats her greeting to me. Jax and Wayra do the same.

Trey orders, “Wayra, go room by room and do a sweep.”

“Yes, Sir,” Wayra responds, pulling a chrome weapon that looks like a handgun from a holster under his pant leg and walking into the next room.

“Climate control to forty-two draks, ignite fire. Jax, find a blanket for Kricket,” Trey says, leading me to the massive stone fireplace on the other side of the room. A fire has sparked and is now popping and crackling in the grate. The boom of a firecracker in the distance sounds, causing Trey to frown at Jax.

Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, Jax says grimly, “I think they just found another squelch tracker. They should question that knob knocker, Kyon.”

Trey shakes his head. “No. It wasn’t him. He wants Kricket alive.”

I feel myself pale. “So, that thing was meant specifically for me?” I ask. “Like a smart bomb or something?”

“Yes,” Trey responds. “They’re programmed to track a specific target for a surgical strike.”

“How does it recognize its target?”

“Voice, optical, heat signature, heartbeat—depends on how it was programmed,” Jax explains. “Someone wanted you to have a very bad night.”

“Makes me feel so warm and cozy inside,” I reply with a fake smile.

“You should be a Cavar, Kricket,” Jax smiles admiringly.

Wayra enters the room, nodding to Trey before saying through his teeth, “I say we line up every one of those Regent police and interrogate them one by one. Someone knows something! Did you just hear another one go off?” he rages, pointing toward the window.

“We heard,” Trey states in a calmer tone. He strips off his damp jacket and shirt, laying them neatly across a chair to dry. The firelight makes his wet skin gleam; it flickers over his muscled abdomen like a lover’s tongue. Suddenly, warmth spreads inside of me as I imagine
how his skin would taste if I was to do the same.

I shiver with a renewed awareness of him. His black, scrolling military tattoos do nothing to hide the deep vee of his hip bones above his waistband. My eyes travel back again to his powerful upper arms
. Even if I was to wrap both of my hands around one of them, his biceps are so big that my fingers would never meet. He’d used those arms tonight to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder as we ran from the squelch tracker sent to kill me. It could’ve torn him apart as well, but he’d done it anyway.

A deeper desire flares in me when I glance at his face and see that he’s assessing me in quite the same way. Trey’s violet eyes darken as they rove over my wet dress; the scarlet fabric clings to my breasts and my other curves like a second skin. My hair has fallen in loose, damp waves over my shoulders. I can still feel the place were he’d woven his fist into my hair at the base of my head and pulled me to him for an intoxicating kiss. I want him to kiss me like that again—like he needs me more than he needs to breath
e.

Wayra clears his throat as he unbuttons his shirt and hands it to me. “It’s dry,” he says apologetically.

“Uh, thanks,” I murmur in a daze, taking the shirt from Wayra.

“There’s a commodus over there,” he says, indicating a door to the right.

I find the bathroom and quickly strip out of my wet dress. Pulling on Wayra’s long, formal shirt, it almost reaches my knees. I roll up the sleeves and drag my fingers through my damp hair before exiting the bathroom.

As I near the fireplace in the main room again, I pull the blanket closer, hearing the guys fall silent. Trey indicates that I should sit as he hands me a glass of water. I can tell by the look on his face that he notices my hand shaking when I grasp it. Sinking into the seat, I manage to say, “Thanks.”

“Wayra, contact Dylan. He’s the best at dissecting squelch debris,” Trey orders in a clipped tone. “I want him here before morning.”

“We need our own on this. Fenton and Hollis can be here in a few parts,” Jax says. “That’s only a few hours, Kricket,” he translates for me.

“Get Drex and Gibon, too,” Trey adds.

“Yes, sir,” Wayra says, pulling a communicator from his pocket and speaking into it rapidly while pacing the room.

“Unknown Etharians approaching perimeter,” the feminine robot voice says, startling me and making me stand immediately. Trey and Jax both pull chrome weapons from their belts, pointing them at the entrance.

Feeling the urge to hide, I take a deep breath as Kyon pushes the doors of the lodge open and walks
in with a confidence I hope one day to possess. “Where is Kricket?” he asks, dismissing the fact that there are now three gun-like weapons trained on him.

Lowering his weapon, Trey responds, “She’s safe.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Kyon retorts, scanning the room and seeing me peeking from behind the chair. Lecto and Forester are with Kyon, trying to stare down Wayra and Jax. “Kricket…” he trails off when he takes in my wet hair and Wayra’s shirt.

I pull the blanket closer to me and raise my chin, saying, “What’s the prophecy, Kyon?”

“You’re direct,” he states, coming nearer, “and that is something that we should discuss…privately.” His eyes bore into mine. “I’ll take you to my quarters. We’ll guard you there until I can have an audience with the Regent. He’ll see reason and then I can take you home.”

“Have you ever heard the sound a squelch tracker makes, Kyon?” I ask quietly, watching his reaction.

“Yes,” he replies, his eyes never leaving mine.

“It’s like,” I pause for a moment, thinking. “It’s like what I imagine a butterfly would sound like if it could scream.” A shiver tears through me.

“I’ll kill the one who is responsible for that,” Kyon replies honestly.

“Em Nark?” I probe, trying to see what he knows.

“Is dead,” Kyon replies in a calm tone.

“What?” I ask, stunned by his answer.

“His trift disintegrated as it passed over Violet Hill. That’s Rafe territory, if you’re unfamiliar with the area,” he replies, watching me sink into the chair again and look at the fire.

“Come…I will take care of this,” he urges me, extending his hand. Goosebumps rise on my arms as I ignore his hand.

“She stays,” Trey replies easily.

“With you…half naked?”

“With me…half naked.”

“She is my intended consort,” Kyon states, clenching his teeth.

“She’s so much more than that,” Trey replies.

Kyon’s eyes shift to me. “He cannot protect you, Kricket,” he watches me struggle to keep my cool.

“Did someone kill him…the Narc?” I ask, my voice coming out in a whisper.

“You don’t believe that his trift just blew up by itself, do you?”

“Why?” I feel ill.

“You’re not asking the right question,” Kyon replies.

“Which is?” I shoot back.

“Why let him live?” he responds in a cold tone.

“That’s so harsh!” I say, looking at the calculation in his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?” he looks puzzled. “He was a threat to you, Kricket, and you act like you’re sorry he’s dead.”

“Is he dead because of what went on tonight? Because of me?”

He smiles like I asked something completely lame. “Of course,” he replies easily, “but proving that would be nearly impossible…since no one in the room tonight will be willing to discuss what was imparted there. If there is an investigation, it will be concluded as a tragic accident.”

“What?” I choke, feeling responsible.

“No one here wants an international incident. Therefore, the death of the ambassador will be…neatly explained away.” Kyon watches my reaction.

They’re all so powerful that they can murder people with no repercussions. That means he’s not going away…ever.
“I’m never going to be your consort,” I state, hearing my voice shake.

“Your naivety is so attractive,” Kyon says with a slow smile. “Try to hold on to it.”

My eyes narrow, “Your single-mindedness is creepy,” I counter, clenching my fists. “Try to lose it.”

“You’re so passionate and resolute. How could I possibly let you go?” Kyon is still smiling.

Frowning, Trey says in a deadly tone, “I’ll make you see that letting her go is the only option available to you.”

Kyon’s eyes shift to Trey’s. “Don’t tread where you don’t belong, Rafe,” Kyon says, his brows drawing together in a scowl, “or even regeneration won’t put you back together.”

“You can leave now, or you can remain and we’ll see who’ll need to be regenerated,” Trey replies, looking calm.

Kyon’s fists clench, before he says, “Touch her and I will make sure that not even your soul will survive.”

“If I touch her, she’ll have my soul,” Trey replies.

I see Kyon’s nostrils flare and his eyes go to mine as he says, “Be prepared to leave in the morning.” Fear makes my legs feel weak as I watch him leave with Forester and Lecto.

“Kyon is going to go directly to the Regent. I need to leave here before Manus gives me to him,” I blurt out, seeing the shock on the faces of Wayra and Jax.

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Trey replies gently. “He won’t get an audience until morning and Victus will be there to argue for you.” Even with his reassurance, I can hardly keep still. Letting the blanket drop, I pace in front of the fire.

“This is insane. Someone killed the Narc because of what I said,” I breathe, knowing I sound as freaked out as I feel. “I didn’t know they’d kill him,” I admit, feeling choked.

“It’s not your fault,” he replies, staring into my eyes. “You probably saved lives by alerting us to the troops on the borders. Now a counter offensive can be mounted.” Trey reaches out and takes my hand. “You need to rest now. Let’s find you a room here.”

“But…Kyon knows where I am. I have to go because this has the
huge
potential of ending badly for me,” I say, feeling my hand shaking in his. He squeezes it reassuringly.

“You’re safe from him,” Trey says, leading me toward the stairway to the second floor. “Jax, contact Victus and fill him in. Wayra get the Cavars here.” Taking the stairs, we make it to the second floor.

“No offense, but I need a Plan B. Why can’t Kyon take a hint? It wasn’t even a hint! I flat out called him creepy, Trey, and it was like a turn on to him,” I rant, waiting by the door as Trey checks out a huge bedroom.

“What are you thinking for your Plan B?” Trey asks quietly, going to the window and scanning the exterior.

BOOK: Under Different Stars
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