Born of Betrayal (44 page)

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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

BOOK: Born of Betrayal
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“Hauk,” Galene said, to Fain's surprise. “I'm the one leading the Alliance.”

Jory saluted her. “Pleased to meet you, Commander. I have some hacks to make to my ship to return her to speed, but we'll be back in service in a few hours.”

“Take your time. We'll be making several waves against The League. If you don't make it out on the next run, we can place you in one of the subsequent ones.”

Jory inclined his head. “I look forward to fighting with you, Commander Hauk.”

As he walked away, Hermione glanced back to where Ryn had vanished with Mack. “He lets her call him Trevelyan. I can't get over that. He hasn't allowed anyone to use his given name since he was six years old, and he walked out of the shower, butt naked, and told me I was never to call him that again, under
any
circumstances.”

“Yeah … okay,” Fain said with a laugh. “Didn't even know that was his name.”

Hermione nodded. “Oh, thank the gods this day ended much better than I was expecting. A few more victories like this and I might be able to sleep again.”

“Speaking of…” Fain pulled out his link to call Chayden. “I'll let the others know that Mack is alive. It'll be a full load off their minds.” He stepped away while they continued to talk war strategies.

Unfortunately, no one in their group answered his call.

He returned to Galene and Hermione. “It must be too loud for them to hear it. I'll go tell them in person.”

“I'll go with,” Jayne volunteered.

Galene pulled her to a stop. “Before you go, I meant to tell you that Nero and Hadrian are due for arrival within the hour.”

The color faded from Jayne's cheeks. “Hadrian? Why?”

“They're coming to find our spy for us.”

Fain was glad to hear that. Two Trisani trackers would do it. No one could hide from that for long.

But Jayne didn't appear as happy about it as he was.

“I'll kill him!” Jayne growled. “I told him to stay out of this!”

Galene exchanged a frown with Fain. “Why are you so angry?”

Jayne lowered her tone to a furious whisper. “You don't understand the bounty on his head. If anyone
ever
learns he's alive…” She broke off into sputters. “He's not supposed to leave home. Ever!” She growled again, low in her throat. “I swear, he's not going to be happy until I kill him for his stupidity. Or someone else does it for me!” And with that, she stormed off.

Dancer hesitated as he watched her leave. “You want me to come with you or stay with Galene?”

“Stay with Stormy. I don't want her left alone. And in the mood Jayne's in, she might clip something off you're attached to, just on principle. While I think I'm safe, you … she might use for a scapegoat.”

Dancer laughed. “You got it.”

Nykyrian and Syn wandered over to him while Galene, Sumi, and Dancer headed back toward Fain's ship.

“You know Thaumarturgus?” Nykyrian jerked his chin in the direction Ushara had vanished.

Fain turned to see her walking down the ramp of the
Stygian Nightmare
beside the most mysterious Tavalian ever bred. Dressed black-on-black, there wasn't an inch of Trajen's body left bare
.
Broad-shouldered, tall, and with an aura as lethal as any assassin to ever don a League uniform, Trajen carried himself with a predator's lope.

He wore no blaster, but the hilts of enough blades were visible to say he didn't need one to slay his enemies. And in a way, that was an even better testament to his sinister skills and willingness to take a life with his bare, bloodied hands. Not to mention, he had a crested Andarion Warsword strapped across his back. The only way for him to have such a weapon would be to have taken it in battle from the hands of a slain Andarion warrior.

No Andarion would have given
that
up without a brutal bloodbath. Andarions considered a family Warsword as part of a sacred heritage, and they were treated with extreme reverence. You didn't just go into a store and buy one of those. They were passed down through families, or taken as war trophies.

Case in point, the one Fain owned had come from the first Andarion he'd killed in battle. Dancer's was the very sword that had once belonged to the founder of their lineage from centuries ago that their grandmother had bestowed on Sumi right before their unification. Talyn's had been earned in the Vested Ring.

While a handful
could
be commissioned from swordsmiths, those numbers were strictly limited and had to be approved by the tadara herself, and no off-worlder was allowed to order one, under
any
circumstance.

Fain had to give credit where it was due. Trajen seemed to be everything he'd heard, and then some.

He glanced over to Nyk. “Know him strictly by reputation. Ryn and Ushara are the only two I've ever heard of who know him personally. And of course Ven and Hermione … but only because of the UTC. Even then, I don't think they've met face-to-face more than a handful of times.”

Nyk turned toward Syn, who shook his head.

“He's a ghost. No record of any kind, anywhere. I got nothing when I did a trace. I'm thinking he was either erased or he's something we don't know about.”

Nyk rubbed at his jaw. “If he was erased, Syn, he'd have a record.”

“Not if he was good enough.” Syn sighed. “At any rate, he's OU.”

Fain scowled. “OU?”

“Origin Unknown,” they said in unison.

“And we don't like that,” Syn said. He winked at Fain. “It's scary.”

Nyk shoved at him. “Go get some sleep.”

“I'd rather get a drink, but I don't want my wife to gut me for it. Later.” Syn headed for his quarters.

“You going to sleep?” Fain asked Nykyrian.

“No. I think I shall try to learn a few things about our new arrival.” Nykyrian hesitated. “Doesn't ‘Thaumarturgus' mean ‘warlock'?”

Fain shrugged. “Not in any language I know. But I'm not as fluent in as many as you are. That being said, Warlock
is
his call sign.”

“Interesting,” he mumbled, following after Ushara and Trajen.

As Fain headed out, he noticed that a lot more ships were landing. Both here and in other areas of the station. And when he saw that one of the ultra-lights that was being serviced and stored belonged to Ven's daughters, he sent a quick text to Ven to warn him that his wife was home, just in case Ven had wandered off somewhere he shouldn't be.

After all, they'd had enough excitement for one day. He was ready for a little boring.

Yet as he headed for the entertainment decks, he had a feeling that things were about to get lively again. Especially if Chayden was down in his cups with Caillen nearby.

*   *   *

“Hey, Sexy Baby T,” Chayden whispered in a shout as he leaned across Qory to talk to Talyn. “The Tondarion Fire I drank wants to tell you a secret.”

Talyn laughed at his friend. “You're drunk, Chayden.”

“No, I'm not.” He slammed his hand down on the table. “You still only have one head. So I'm still sober … ish.” He belched, then ordered more drinks.

Qory signed at them, but Talyn couldn't make it out since Qory wasn't sober either and so his signs were slurred.

Chayden began chewing on a straw. “He says you should have a drink. See, I'm not so drunk I can't understand Qory.”

Talyn scratched at his cheek. “We can't drink.”

“Oh yeah, you're Andarions in uniform. Sucks to be you!” Chayden pulled a drink off the tray of a passing waiter—an alien who started to say something, then took one look at the massive size of Qory, Gavarian, and Talyn, then changed his mind about it.

“Yeah,” Chayden said in a surly tone. “That's right. I got an Andarion set of Ring fighters and a Qill, and I'm a Qill-born Tavali and you're not! Ha!” Then he realized Brach was with them. “Oh hey, I got another Andarion, too!” He scowled at Talyn. “How many Andarions is that? Oh yeah … three. Three Andarions and two Qills and one bottle of Tondarion Fire. Yum. See, I can … do math. Not drunk.”

Gavarian scowled at Talyn. “Qillaqs are interesting when they drink, aren't they?”

“They
are
something.”

“You're something. And I'm a belligerent ass. Hole.” Chayden guzzled the drink. “Hey!” He leaned against Brach. “You know what my greatest accomplishment was today?”

Talyn took a drink of his water. “Can't imagine.”

“I kept … my mouth shut.”

Talyn passed an amused frown to Brach.

“What's that mean?” Chayden asked.

“Nothing.”

“Sure it does, but I'm telling you, for me … that's a major accomplishment. And I deserve another drink for it.”

Laughing, Talyn reached for the snacks, then paused as he caught Gavarian's and Brach's eyes bugging wide. Curious, he followed their line of sight to see three extremely scantily clad, highly attractive females gliding through the crowd.

Yeah, okay. That was definitely noteworthy. Especially since one of them had on an outfit that really didn't leave a lot to the imagination. She might as well be naked in the room.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Chayden snapped, pushing Talyn's chin away from the small group as they sat down across from them. “Put those eyes on the floor and get the blood out of the protruding parts of your body. Fast. That there is the crew of the
Black Widow
 … and tell me, Chay,” he said to himself in a falsetto, “why is their ship named the
Black Widow
?”

Talyn gave him a dry stare. “Why is it called the
Black Widow
?”

“'Cause their father is Braxen Venik … you know, head of the Porturnum Tavali, and one of the most ruthless, bloodthirsty pirates who's ever lived. Any male who looks at one of
them
and decides he wants to take a ride, gets a visit from Daddy and leaves the room in little bloody chunks.” He jerked his chin at the two large, muscled males who came in behind the females and evicted the people from the table closest to them. Unlike their sisters, they held more Andarion traits than human. “And those, my Andarion pretty, are Braxen's sons. Payne and Stain, which is exactly what you will quickly be in and become should they catch you looking at their sisters.”

Talyn laughed. “As you said, I'm Andarion. Some deaths, my friend, are definitely worth it. But as beautiful as they are, they pale in comparison to my most precious Felicia. There's nothing there that appeals to me, in any way.”

Gavarian snorted. “Yeah, but I see all kinds of happiness awaiting
me
.” He got up. “What about you,
drey
?” he asked Brach.

“Ah, hell to the yes. If I have to go out, I want it to be with a big bang.”

“No!” Chayden grabbed them each by the arm. “Don't do it. Save yourselves.”

“What in the Nine Worlds is going on here?” Jayne asked as she joined them.

Talyn sighed as he pulled Chayden away from Gavarian. “Our little Qillaq has imbibed a lot of Tondarion Fire. Honestly, I didn't know humans could have this much and not die from it. I think he passed internally pickled an hour ago.”

Chayden ignored him. “Jaynie! Tell Vari not to diddle the Widows. Quick, while he's still a male.”

“Um … yeah. Drunk as he is, kid, he's right. You don't want a piece of Ven's daughters. And it's not Ven you have to fear. They're half Qillaq. You have to earn martial rights to their beds, and they take two lovers at a time.”

Gavarian flashed a devilish grin. “I'm really good with that.”

“Two males.”

His smile faded instantly. “Oh … not so good with
that
. I don't share well.”

She laughed. “Didn't think so. But I do have some good news.”

Talyn arched his brow. “Yeah?”

Before she could speak, Payne Venik approached their table and raked a sneer over Gavarian, Brach, and then Talyn. His gaze narrowed on Talyn's name and rank patches. At first, Talyn assumed it was from his Ring fame. Most knew him from the years he'd fought as the Iron Hammer. Even though he'd been retired for almost a decade, he still held more titles and records than any other fighter in Andarion Ring history.

But that wasn't the cause of his notoriety with the Tavali.

“Batur…” Payne shoved him. Hard. A bully-looking-for-a-fight move. “You don't have the right to look at my sisters.”

Talyn barely caught his temper before he laid the idiot in his cold grave. Not only did Talyn stand a full head taller, he also outweighed the Tavali by a good seventy pounds. Or more. He knew from his years of fighting that he could kill the hybrid being with one blow.

Tempting.
Very
tempting.

And this was why they were forbidden to drink. Especially while they wore the uniforms that represented their nation and race.

“I wasn't looking at your sisters.” Talyn tried to step away.

Stain cut his path off. “What? You think you're too good to look at them? You think 'cause they're hybrid, they're
beneath
you?”

They were trying to draw him into a fight. As the bastard son of an Outcast, Talyn was well acquainted with shit like this, since every ass-wipe Andarion had felt honor-bound to bait and taunt him for it since the hour he'd taken his first breath. It was what had made him such a vicious Ring fighter.

He cocked a brow at the Venik brothers. “Wait … I thought your whole problem with me was your fear that I
was
thinking so much of them that I was imagining they were beneath me already. No offense, but you really need to work on your communication skills. You're sending all kinds of mixed signals here.”

Payne started forward, but Chayden caught him. “Hey, now … what's with all this … negative hostility, huh? We're all friends. Let's not be so
nasty
.”

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