Born of Betrayal (33 page)

Caillen wiped at his eyes as Chayden pulled him into his arms to comfort him. Honestly, Fain was amazed at how well Chayden was holding together given how much he worshiped his sister and niece and nephew who'd been lost. “Don't worry, brother,” he whispered against Caillen's head. “We're going to tear them to pieces. For Vashe and Lil and Des.” He finally broke on a sob as he said his sister's name.

Fain turned toward Syn, who was as stoic as Nykyrian. But then they had no choice. Death had always been a brutal part of their lives, and especially for Syn. “You all right?”

Syn gave a slow, subtle shake of his dark head. “I just had my heart ripped out and fed to me. Of course I'm not okay.” He passed a look to Nykyrian that if Fain didn't know better, he'd swear they were two Trisani speaking with telepathy.

Then again, they'd been friends for so long, the two of them
could
read each other's minds. And in this, they were united in malice.

Justice was all about making two bodies where only one had been. Kill them all and let the gods sort it out.

With a cold-blooded snarl, Nykyrian met Galene's gaze. “Jullien in charge of the attack?”

“No. Nothing's been mentioned about him. Your grandmother has resumed the throne and is returning Andarion allegiance to The League. Ambassador Dane notified us that Emperor Cruel's brother Drakari has been voted in by the CDS, and he's preparing a retaliatory strike as soon as he can muster one.”

Jayne rubbed Nykyrian's arm to comfort him as Morra and Qory joined their group. “Eriadne and Kyr are demanding you surrender to them immediately for a public execution.”

Nykyrian actually let out a chilling laugh. “Eriadne should know by now how hard I am to kill. The bitch doesn't have an army
that
large.” Without a word, he walked back toward the hangar. “Fuel my ship,” he called to one of the workers. “I want to launch immediately.”

Dancer ran after him. “Nykyrian? What are you planning?”

He turned on him with a snarl. “Nykyrian's dead. This is about Nemesis rising to strike down the bastard who dared to take what I love. And I'm going to shove it down his throat right before I put him out of all our miseries.”

“Wait!” Safir shouted as he let go of Maris to follow after Nykyrian. “Kyr didn't do this.”

Nykyrian turned toward him with an arched brow. “Explain.”

“Don't get me wrong. My brother's guilty of a lot of malice and cruelty.” He gestured toward his bruised and battered face that was still healing from the round of torture he'd suffered at Kyr's own hands. His brother had even sheared off Saf's long black hair—an act of disgrace for an assassin, and done for no other purpose than to shame Safir, who'd been one of the League's best assassins. And all because Saf had refused to kill Maris, and had helped his brother escape Kyr's troops by allowing Maris to use him as a human shield rather than murder Maris in cold blood. “But I know he's not responsible for attacking the palace.”

“Yeah, right.” Syn narrowed his gaze. “What makes you so sure about that?”

“The children.” Safir glanced to Maris, who was finally starting to calm down. “You've always wanted to know what made him change that summer when he was seventeen.… His wife and daughter were brutally slaughtered.”

Maris wiped at his eyes. “He was never married.”

“Yes, he was. You can ask Zander if you don't believe me. He's the one who told me the story a few months ago. It's why Kyr assaulted you so vehemently at your wedding to Tams. In his mind, you were callously throwing away what he'd been denied.”

Maris scowled. “I don't understand.”

“She wasn't of noble birth or Naglfari. A common foreigner Kyr met and fell in love with. He worshiped her, but because Kyr was heir, Father refused to allow him to marry her and betrothed Kyr to another female. One of our own. Kyr balked and joined The League to get away from Phrixus and Father's dictates. Father was furious, and to punish him, he had Kyr moved from the League armada that he'd joined to assassin training as punishment so that Kyr wouldn't be able to marry anyone at all. What Father didn't know was that Kyr had already married the woman, and that she was pregnant with his child. About a year later, Huwin Quiakides found out about the marriage and ordered his wife and child killed, per League dictates. Kyr was on a link with her, trying to get to her to save her, when she died. He heard everything. And it destroyed him.”

Nykyrian cursed under his breath. “That's why he turned psychotic when I took the warrant on my father and killed him.”

Saf nodded. “He wanted the kill himself. It's also why he has never once, as prime commander, ordered the death of any child. Think about it.” He looked to Maris. “It's why Terek wasn't killed when his mother was. Why the League assassins left your son in his crib, safe and unharmed. Kyr made it clear that if any of us touched a child, he would slaughter us where we stood.” He turned back to Nykyrian. “He trained you. You know how he thinks. What his policies are. Better than anyone.”

Sumi let out a nervous laugh. “It's why he never harmed Kalea. He threatened it, but I had the best of care until I delivered her. My training didn't begin until after Kyr had been assured I was fully healed and physically able to endure it.”

Nykyrian glanced away as a tic started in his jaw. “Yeah, I would call bullshit, but that actually explains some of the stranger things I saw him do when I was in The League with him. Still, it changes nothing.” Closing his eyes, he visibly struggled with his anger and guilt.

Jayne tried to hug him.

He gently moved away from her side. “I don't want comfort, Jayne. There's nothing inside me right now, except the need to make that bitch who birthed my mother, and anyone who had a hand in this, bleed out of every orifice.”

Caillen wiped at his tears with the back of his hand. “Are we sure there are no survivors? Desi's tough. Shahara even more so. They had VIK with them. They could have—”

“Eriadne wouldn't have left a survivor. She callously served poison to her own brother and his kids, and watched them eat it and die in front of her. She kept my mother in a drugged stupor for almost half her life and handed me over to humans to torture and kill when I was just a child. That bitch has no semblance of a soul.… Dammit, I should have never left.” Throwing his head back, Nyk bellowed with rage.

With tears in his eyes, Syn growled low in his throat. “I give them credit. They found a way to make sure none of us have a clear head for battle.”

Nykyrian scoffed. “What she underestimated was our combined determination. We won't be burning the queen in effigy. She's the one we'll set fire to on the lawn of the palace grounds.” His features even grimmer than normal, he started for the command center.

“Tahrs?”

They all hesitated at the unfamiliar sultry feminine voice.

Fain scowled as he saw the last thing he expected. A Gorturnum contingency.

And not just any group.

He knew by the female's Canting that this was Trajen's right hand. Vice Admiral Ushara Altaan. A female whose personal motto was to never go to bed angry, but rather stay up and plot revenge. While no one had any idea what she really looked like beneath her Tavali mask and heavy war-paint makeup, they all knew what happened to those who crossed her.

A closed-casket funeral, provided your loved ones were lucky enough to find some bone fragments or skin cells to run through a DNA scanner to identify your remains.

Dressed in typical Tavali gear, she wore a black-on-black tight leather battlesuit that hugged an extremely pregnant body. One that appeared four, maybe five months past her due date—which was doubly shocking since her last known husband had been brutally slaughtered years ago, and no male had been brave enough to go near her since.

Her face was painted stark white with thick, bold stripes beginning below her eyes and nose in sharp geometrical angles—gold, electric blue, metallic purple, and then three thin red lines in a distinct pattern of some ancient Andarion lineage Fain didn't recognize. That, along with her silvery-white eyes, height, and the hint of fangs when she spoke betrayed her Andarion heritage, but like Nykyrian and in total contradiction of their species, she had snow-white hair.

Nykyrian drew a ragged breath. “Admiral, this is a really bad time.”

“I know, Highness, but really, you and your friends want to speak with me. Immediately and in private. I'm afraid I have to insist.”

When Nykyrian started for the commcen, she recklessly stopped him.

“Again, Tahrs, I insist, and I'd rather we speak aboard my ship where I know we can't be overheard by a spy.”

They exchanged puzzled frowns before Nykyrian finally agreed. Curious, they followed her toward her vessel.

Fain glanced around as more Gorturnum landed in the station. Venik was getting a full house. Something that would make him really cranky. Even though he'd agreed to it, he never played well with others. And he really hated when the other Nations ventured into his territory.

He also noted how nervous Galene was with Ushara's arrival.

“You said you didn't really know her?” she whispered to him.

“Yeah. No idea what this is about.”

She bit her lip. “You think it's a trap?”

“It's not a trap, Commander,” Ushara said with a smile as she rubbed her distended belly. “Let's face it, I'm not exactly at top fighting speed at the moment. I'm pretty sure you could take me in this condition. Not that I would risk my son in a fight.”

Galene laughed. “Sorry, Admiral. I didn't mean to insult you.”

“No insult. I don't blame you for being suspicious. These are troubling times.”

Once they were all on board, Ushara closed the ramp and led them toward a conference room. Since they didn't know what to think, no one spoke. They merely waited and stayed alert for any sort of trick.

After they took their seats, Ushara turned on her monitor.

Galene and Nykyrian gasped as a recording of Jullien eton Anatole appeared. Only he looked a
lot
different than the last time any of them had seen him. No longer the corpulent, haughty prince they all despised, he was dressed in rugged Tavali Gorturnum gear and had shed about two hundred pounds. Or more to the point, he'd turned that weight into lean, solid muscle.

With a raw masculinity he'd never had before, he pulled the skull-decorated blast helmet from his head to expose his thick black hair and whiskered face before he spoke from what appeared to be an underground shelter of some sort. “Greetings, brother. I know I'm the last creature you want to see right now, but I had to let you know that everyone's safe, and that I'm sorry I couldn't forewarn you about The League attack on the palace. By the time I found out what Nyran and Eriadne had planned, there wasn't enough time to call you or Matarra, and I wasn't sure either of you'd even believe me. I didn't know who else to trust. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I came myself to secure them.”

Jullien turned the camera and panned it around to show them their families. Cairistiona and Aros stood together, beside Tylie and her partner Kelsei. They were a bit disheveled in their pajamas and coats, but that didn't matter.

They were blissfully alive and not being held prisoner.

Cairie smiled at the camera. “
Mi tana,
breathe easy. Jullien literally pulled us out minutes before everything went up in flames. We owe him our lives. I love you. Have no fear for us.”

Aros inclined his head. “She's right. We're all fine.” He stepped back to show the children, who were complaining about the toys that had been left behind, and Thia who grumbled about a broken nail and not having a hairbrush.

Shahara and Zarya were both napping on the floor, with their children nestled beside them while Ture was changing Terek as the baby gnawed on his fist.

He smiled and waved. “I'm all right, Mare-bear. T, too. We just want you to be safe.” He held Terek up to wave. “We love you.”

Darling, who was working on rewiring Syn's mecha bodyguard VIK for Syn's son, was the next one to speak. “Yeah, Nyk, I don't trust your brother, either. He's a bloody, traitorous bastard. We know it. But … He has given us one hell of a tactical advantage. The League thinks we're dead and that you're rattled and reactionary. So long as they think we're dead, they're not coming after us, and you can focus on kicking their asses with a clear head and single-minded focus. Use this to the best advantage possible and don't let either of my brothers do
any
thing stupid while I'm gone. I know I'm asking a lot, but I'd like to still have an empire when I get out of here.” Then Darling slid his gaze over to Jullien. “And if
your
brother gets frisky, don't worry. I will end him. Shahara will help. She already took two shots at him.”

Jullien wore an irritated grimace as he turned the camera back on himself. “Anyway, Nykyrian, I know you have absolutely no reason to trust me. And I know you're fighting with one hand tied behind your back so long as you're worried about whether or not I'm going to betray you when you least expect it. So as an act of good faith, to let you know that I understand that I hold in my hands everything in this universe you treasure, I've placed in your hands my very heart and soul. The very means by which to destroy me. And with you being a former League assassin, I know you won't hesitate to do so if I fuck this up.… I have your wife and family in my custody. So I have sent to you
my
wife, daughters, and sons. Please, protect them.… I can't live without them, brother. They are all I have in this world. All that means anything to me. You are the only one I would ever trust them with.”

Tears filled Jullien's hazel green eyes as he swallowed hard. “Shara, I love you,
munatara a la frah
. I'll be home as soon as I can. Don't you dare have Vidarri without me. And don't let Vasili fight without my brother winging him. I swear I'll loosen the noose on him soon, but he's not as skilled a fighter as he thinks he is, and I don't want to bury our son. He's just not ready to fight in this war. Kiss the girls for me, and tell Mira to be brave for her paka.” The screen went black.