“This is ridiculous.” She handed the mobile back. “Who is this Hector?” And how dare he lead her men.
Hauk slid his mobile back into his pocket. “No one can find out anything about him. And I do mean no one. We figure it’s an alias. But we can’t link it to anyone.”
Yeah and neither could she. Yet there was something about it that was niggling in the back of her mind. Something familiar.
What was it?
Before she could think of an answer, blaster fire sounded from outside, in the yard below.
Deafening alarms rang out everywhere.
I’ve got to do something to stop this.
It didn’t matter who Hector was.
She
was still technically the Resistance leader. And this Hector knew it as well as she did. Why else continue to use her name to call their people to action?
Her mind whirled with possibilities and courses she could take. But no matter what, she kept coming back to one simple fact. If she could get the Resistance to fight
with
Darling against the gerents as they should, then the gerents would have no choice except to accept him as their governor.
Easier said than done.
Neither side trusted Darling. Nor were they trusting her at the moment either.
But if she were to show up without Darling…
Maybe she could talk some sense into them.
She left Hauk and Fain to their cleanup while she went to her room. As she paced the floor, planning, she could hear the news from Darling’s room.
“Since the governor was pulled out by his security during the meeting”—
Could they get anything right?
—“the Resistance forces have been setting fires and vandalizing corporate buildings. Entire staffs are staying inside their offices like prisoners since they’re too scared to even attempt to leave while under this latest round of protests. As a result, the gerents are begging for League intervention to quell the rebel protestors and bring Governor Cruel into line. Maybe even dethrone or assassinate him.”
Her heart pounding, she tried not to hear any more. This was such a disaster.
Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it tonight. Darling would never agree to let her go to the Resistance alone and if she took one of his people with her, or worse, him, they would never believe she wasn’t under his influence.
No, this was going to take careful planning and execution if it was to work.
And time was running out…
“While the League refuses to comment on whether or not they’ll intervene, we did hear from a source who doesn’t want to be identified that the League is rallying their soldiers and assassins for an attempt on the palace.”
She could hear the seconds ticking away. If she didn’t persuade her people to see the truth, Darling was going to be fed to the wolves.
God help him.
To save his life and his throne, she was about to throw herself straight into the heart of his enemies.
She placed her hand on her stomach as she considered the baby Nero had told her about. She still didn’t have any symptoms at all.
Darling will kill me when he finds out.
If anything happened to the baby, she would never forgive herself.
But what choice did she have? There was no way she could stand by while he was attacked repeatedly because of her.
They’d been lucky this time. His eyesight had been normal when the assassins struck. But what if she’d been with Maris and they’d attacked an hour ago?
Darling would be dead.
His nosebleeds disoriented him. His eyesight crippled him. The two combined…
He couldn’t make it to the bathroom alone. Never mind fight off a trained assassin. If those two had been League assassins and not Resistance fighters, tonight’s attack might have had a different ending, too.
There was no way she could stand by and do nothing while he was under attack. It just wasn’t in her.
The door that connected their rooms opened. Darling paused in the doorway, staring at her with an adoring gaze that set fire to every part of her. Shadows played across his beautiful features as he watched her watching him. As always, he held so much intensity and command of everything around him that it sent a chill over her.
He was every bit the fierce soldier and regal politician.
Most of all, he was the one person she couldn’t live without. If his capture had taught her anything, it was that her life was empty and miserable without him in it.
And as she stared at him, she remembered how good his lips tasted. How much she loved being in his arms.
How much she loved
him
.
This was the father of her child…
The only man alive she would kill or die to protect.
“Are you all right?” He approached her slowly, almost bashfully. Something so out of character for him that it instantly charmed her.
It also struck her as odd that he’d ask after her well-being when he was the one who’d been stabbed. Her gaze dropped to the bandage on his side that was already marked with his blood. “Worried about you,” she admitted.
“Don’t be. I have no intention of leaving you anytime soon.”
But she was going to leave him. She had to. If she was lucky, and the Resistance cooperated, she’d be able to return to his side.
If she wasn’t…
She would never see him again.
Two days later, Zarya paused as she navigated her way through the charred remains of a burned-down building. Historical and regal, it had always been one of her favorites. When she’d been a little girl, her father had brought her here for cherished birthday meals.
Oh how she’d loved the cake they’d serve her with sprinkles and carved chocolate bunnies…
She touched her stomach, wondering what joyful memories like that she’d give to her child.
Please, let every one of them be good.
Most of all, she hoped that everything went as planned so that she could get back home before Darling realized she was gone.
Over the last few years, she and Sorche had begun meeting here as well. Since it was close to Resistance headquarters and to the engineering firm where Sorche worked, it’d been a logical place to get together.
Now it, like most of the people she loved, was gone. Nothing more than a faint memory…
Her heart ached as she stood at the remains of her favorite table where she could keep her back to the wall and watch the door.
She’d been sitting right here, in her usual chair when she’d told Sorche about her engagement to Kere.
Laughing and crying, Sorche had oohed and ahhed over her ring while taking her to task.
“Only
you
would obligate yourself to a man and not know who he really is or what he looks like. Really, Zarya… Someone must have dropped you on your head as an infant. And by that I mean more than once.”
She smiled at the memory.
Until her gaze went to the burned remains of a painting that had hung near the register. It was of the owner’s daughter.
Please tell me everyone got out of here alive.
Saddened by the waste around her, she swept her gaze to the horizon where even more fires blazed from dozens of buildings and homes. Thanks to the Resistance and the gerents, Taranyse—the outpost where the Resistance was headquartered—was being systematically torn apart in a show of power between the two factions.
For that matter, the Resistance seemed determined to tear down anything in their path. People. Buildings. Furniture. Rodents… It didn’t matter what. If it got in their way, they set fire to it. It was like they were drunk on destruction.
But she knew there was more to it than sheer havoc. Rather than protect the people as they’d sworn to do, the Resistance was hoping to either draw Darling out so they could assassinate him, or cause so much furor that it forced the gerents or League to kill him.
Meanwhile, since the gerents couldn’t use the professional Caronese guard without Darling’s approval and sanction, they’d activated the Citizen Army to fight against the Resistance. Something that had resulted in a bloodbath on both sides as the Resistance and CA clashed all over the empire.
And though Darling condemned their actions, he wasn’t offi
cially in control of the CA. Only the CDS was. He could ask his citizens to lay down their arms and return home, but at the end of the day, the only way to force them to stop was to call out his guard and arrest every member of the Citizen Army. Something he wasn’t ready to do… yet.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, the CDS kept begging the League to step in and quell the rebels. To throw Darling off the throne and replace him with one of his distant cousins. Nylan, Giran, and crew had promised Kyr that if the League declared martial law here, they would take power and make the CDS fall in line with all League laws and objectives.
May the gods help them all if the League came in.
Poor Darling had tried to placate both groups without the League’s interference, but neither the gerents nor the Resistance would cooperate. The only allies he had currently were the workers who were unable to convince the other two groups that Darling was a leader worth following.
At this point, it was only a matter of time before the League came in and enslaved them all. But Darling would be the one most hurt. Once they slaughtered all the Resistance, the League’s next course of action would be to imprison Darling for the rest of his life.
Or execute him.
I’m the only shot he has.
“Z?”
She jumped at the sound of a familiar voice cutting through her thoughts. Ready to fight, she turned to find Ture there. “Oh thank the gods. You scared me to death.”
He checked the time. “Isn’t this when you told me to meet you?”
Trying to calm her racing heart, she placed her hand over her chest. “It is. I was just lost in thought for a minute.”
So glad to see him again, she walked into his arms and gave
him a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you, Ture. I’ve missed you so much! Thank you for coming. I owe you one giant whopping favor for this.”
He squeezed her back. “You know I’d do anything in the world for you, doll.”
She kissed his cheek, then stepped back to make sure he was wearing the uniform correctly. May the gods love him, a cook by trade, he wasn’t up on military protocol or dress.
A little over six feet in height, Ture had short brown hair that he’d put reddish highlights in. His vivid gray eyes were a stark contrast to his deeply tanned skin. But as always, he was breathtakingly gorgeous.
Today however, he wasn’t impeccably dressed. Standing up the collar of his battlesuit and then rearranging the order of his “rank,” she tsked at him. “You look so uncomfortable right now.”
He patted at the collar she’d fussed at. “Well, this would be like you in a sequined pageant dress and five-inch heels.” He stepped back, showing off his battlesuit with a macho swagger. “But I do look smashing in it, don’t I?”
She grinned at his play. “Yes, you do, honey.”
He plucked at his front breast pocket. “I have to say though that I’ve only dreamed about getting men out of one of these. Never once did I consider how to put one on.” He made a face at her. “However, I now totally understand that warrior gait they all have.”