Tears filled her eyes as she finally understood the true horror of his confinement at their hands. The one person who should have been hunting for him, who should have saved him from his torture, had walked by a thousand times outside the very room where he was imprisoned. And he’d heard her there over and over again.
Oh gods…
How would it feel to hear him on the other side of that locked door while she languished in here with no prospect of escaping?
It was one thing to be told something horrific.
It was another to experience it.
How could he ever really forgive me?
The fact that he’d spoken to her at all after his release was a miracle. How he could still love her was beyond her comprehension.
I’m so sorry, Darling.
Her only hope was that she lived long enough to really make it up to him.
“What do you mean, you can’t find her?” Darling glared at Syn. “Her location has to be in their system. They make a record of every fart one of them takes.”
Screwing his face up at Darling’s crudity, Syn gestured toward his laptop. “I’m looking, but I’m telling you, it’s not there. For some reason, probably intelligence, they didn’t file a log on her. There is nothing in their system to let me, or anyone else, know where they’ve taken her. They’ve all but deleted any evidence of her ever having lived.”
And they all knew what that meant.
The League intended to execute her and since they had no real evidence to convict her on, they wanted no trace of it. If they didn’t find her soon, it would be too late.
Frustrated and terrified, Darling looked over to Nykyrian who
was pacing in front of Darling’s desk. “Where do they normally take political prisoners?”
Nykyrian shrugged. “There are over two hundred and fifty prisons for political inmates. But the problem is, she might not be in one of those. While she is an aristo, she’s also a criminal in their eyes. With or without evidence.”
Which brought them back to square one. She could be in any prison on any planet.
Damn them!
It’d already been over two weeks that they’d been searching for her. Two. Full. Weeks.
Darling had paid out more than six million creds in bribes to any-and everyone who might have even a kernel of information about her or her location.
Nothing.
When Nero had heard about it just hours after she’d been captured, he’d tried to find her with his powers and had almost burned up his brain in the process. But for Syn, he’d have died. Poor bastard had gone into a coma while attempting it and had developed a vicious migraine that no amount of medication could cure. Fifteen days later, he was still unable to open his eyes in any kind of light.
At least he tried.
For that, Darling owed him and he wouldn’t forget it.
Syn slapped at his keyboard. “They’re determined that no one is going to find any Caronese prisoner. It looks like they’ve scrubbed that word from their vocabulary. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
And Syn had been professionally hacking files since he was a small child. If Syn couldn’t find an e-trace, no one could.
What are they doing to her?
That thought was never far from
his mind. If he hadn’t been insane before all of this, fear for her life was quickly stealing what little sanity he had left.
“She’s on Brinear.”
He started at Maris’s deep voice as his old friend stepped through the door of his office. “What?”
Maris hesitated before he spoke again. “My source came through. It took him a few thousand creds, but he finally got the information, and he verified it. She’s definitely there, under extremely heavy security.”
Gods bless Safir. If anyone ever learned that he’d helped them, he would be torn into pieces. “I’ll make sure he’s reimbursed.”
“He doesn’t want the money. He only wants to do the right thing.”
“Then he needs to surrender his commission,” Nykyrian said bitterly. “Trust me. It’s a dangerous game he’s playing. The bad thing about the League, every assassin is out for themselves and they’re real quick to throw you to the wolves if they think it’ll advance their rank even a single decimal of a point.”
Maris nodded. “I know. I was raised with the head asshole himself.”
Nykyrian clapped him on the back. “And for that I’m infinitely sorry.”
“Yeah, most days, me, too.”
Syn closed his laptop. “All right, then, folks. We have a location for attack. Give me an hour and I’ll have the facility mapped, then we can plan our next move.”
Darling nodded. “I’ll try to rally my troops.”
“And I’ll get the Sentella scrambling,” Nykyrian said.
Ryn finally stirred from the sofa he’d been lying on for so long that Darling had assumed he’d gone to sleep. “I’ll go motivate the Tavali.”
Grateful for that offer, Darling knew it took a little more than just the promise of a good deed to motivate the pirate brigade. “Tell them any who fly with us will get a full pardon from the Caronese Empire for any past crime, except murder, pedophilia, or rape. And I’ll give them a free pass to fly through our territories for the rest of their lives, so long as they don’t prey on our people or ships.”
Ryn gave him a cocky grin. “You are by far the better politician. That’ll motivate their sorry asses in a way I could only dream. Even without the Sentella and Caronese Armada, you’re about to have one hell of an army, ready to lay down their lives for you.”
“Let’s hope they don’t have to.” Darling gave them a short nod before he made a sharp military about-face and headed for the door.
Maris fell in beside him. “She’s going to be fine, Darling.”
He wished he had Maris’s faith. But that had been kicked out of him when he’d told himself every day that his friends would find him and release him from hell. Meanwhile weeks had gone by while he’d hung in his cell in utter agony.
Now…
Darling didn’t believe in much of anything, except the universe’s willingness to screw him over.
Please let her be all right.
Thoughts of her being brutalized tortured him even worse than his own memories. Every hour they didn’t rescue her had him living in fear that she was being raped and beaten while calling out for him to help her.
Just like Lise when she’d been shot…
His panic rose so high that for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
Please don’t let my eyes start jerking.
Though there was no real rhyme or reason to when they’d start, they seemed more inclined to do it whenever he was stressed.
He glanced askance at Maris. “Did Safir give you any information about her condition?”
“No. He tried his best to find out for you, but he couldn’t access that. He did say that he’d cautioned Kyr against raping her when they’d taken her into custody.”
Darling clung to the thread like a lifeline. “Do you think Kyr listened?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I hope and pray for her sake and yours that he did.”
Darling’s throat tightened. “Did he know if she’s one of the ones being tortured?” The League had bragged to the media every night since they’d raided the Resistance’s HQ that they were “interrogating” the Resistance leaders in an effort to find the rest of their members.
“He couldn’t answer that either. Sorry.”
Darling ground his teeth as pain shredded his gut. “As bad as Kyr hates me… I hope he’s not taking that out on her.”
“You know, he’s not so—”
“Don’t lie to me, Mari,” he said, cutting him off, “and tell me he’s above that. We both know better. I have the scar to prove just how bad his temper is. He didn’t get to the top of the League high command by showing mercy to those he perceived as enemies. He got there by carving his way through a mountain of bodies.”
Maris winced at the truth. “He wasn’t always like that, you know. He was a kid once, too.”
“I know.” Like Maris, he remembered when Kyr had been in possession of the soul he’d sold to the League for vanity and glory. Granted Kyr had never had much of a sense of humor, but he’d been fair.
Decent.
Until something had happened shortly after Kyr turned seventeen.
In one summer, he’d turned from being an insecure, average teenager into a cold-blooded soldier.
I guess my father’s old adage was right. “Whenever you take the shot, Darling, two men die. The man you targeted and the man you used to be. Once you draw first blood, you can never go back to the way you were. It will always change you, and never for the better.”
After that summer, Kyr had locked up emotionally, and had never been the same. For the longest time Darling had felt sorry for him.
Until that one moment that was forever etched into his memory.
Even now, he could see Maris walking barely a step in front of him, toward the altar where Tamara was waiting for the ceremony to begin.
But the moment her gaze had met Maris’s, fear had etched itself onto her face.
The old priest had breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Ah, there you are, Maris. We’d begun to—”
“Forgive me, Holiness. But there’s something I need to say.” Stopping just in front of the priest, Maris had looked to Darling for support.
Dressed in his Phrixian uniform, Maris had been the epitome of a fierce regal war hero. Except for the perspiration on his brow and upper lip—perspiration that worsened as he turned toward Tams. She’d been exquisite in her blue and gold gown that flowed around her lush and abundant curves. Darling could tell by her expression that she knew what was coming.
And why.
She’d reached out to touch Maris’s arm, and offered him a kind smile. “It’s okay, sweetie.” Biting her lip, she’d glanced to Darling, then back at Maris before she’d whispered to them. “I’ve had a feeling for quite some time that you two were more than friends.”
Maris had taken her hand into his and kissed it. “I do love you, Tams. I’m just not
in
love with you. I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes had glowed with her love and respect for him. “Don’t apologize, Maris. Not for this. And not for being you. I’m only grateful you’re doing this now instead of later when it would have been too late to undo it.” She swept her gaze to her parents who were scowling a hole through all three of them. “My father might kill you over it, but I for one can’t thank you enough for not tying me into a marriage where I could never have the one thing I want most.”
Children.
Unlike him and Maris, she wanted a house full of them.
When they had turned around toward the crowd, Maris’s father had shot to his feet. “What’s going on here?” he growled. “Why aren’t you facing the priest? Maris, explain this!”
“We’re not getting married, Father. Sorry.”
That hadn’t gone over well with his father. “What do you mean, you’re not getting married? You’ve made a commitment. Now be a man and honor it.”
A tic had started in Mari’s jaw. “I
am
honoring my word, Father. I promised Tamara a long time ago that I would never do anything to bring hurt to her heart. It’s why I can’t marry her.”
Her parents had started shouting then that there was nothing wrong with their daughter, and the crowd had gone crazy with accusations against both bride and groom, as well as their families.
His father’s face had turned bright red from rage. “Boy, you better turn around right now and—”
“I’m gay, Father. And I can’t enter into marriage with Tams when I know I can never be the husband she wants or deserves.” The moment those words had left his lips, silence ripped through the entire building.
For a full minute no one spoke or moved. Hell, Darling didn’t think anyone even breathed.
Then the cacophony returned at twice the volume and violence it’d been before. Out of nowhere, Kyr had lunged at Maris. Acting on pure instinct, Darling had grabbed Maris and pulled him out of his brother’s reach.
Kyr had whirled on him then, and they’d fought for a few minutes, until Kyr had stabbed at Darling’s groin, narrowly missing it. The knife had gone straight into his thigh. But instead of pulling it out and trying again, Kyr had twisted the blade, then plunged it into his thigh again and again… three times, causing a star-shaped scar.
Darling couldn’t remember the insults Kyr had growled out at him as he’d stabbed him. But he’d never forgotten the momentary fear of thinking Kyr had sliced through his femoral artery, and that he’d be dead within seconds.
Since that day, they’d been bitter enemies.
Yet none of that changed the fact that Kyr was Maris’s older brother. A brother Maris had once worshiped and looked up to.
Now as they walked down the hallway to set up a fight to the death against Kyr, Darling draped his arm around Maris’s shoulders. “I know you still love your brother, Mari.”
He would never begrudge his friend those feelings.
Maris took the hand Darling had on his shoulder and held it tight. “Family is so complicated.”
Darling laughed bitterly. “Tell me about it.”
Maris pulled him to a stop, then turned Darling to face him. “But
you
… you’ve never once disappointed me. You’ve always been a much better friend to me than I have ever been to you.”