Breeder (24 page)

“You wound me with your lack of trust, brother.” Tarbek clapped Dak on the right shoulder with his left hand, building a Bridge of Amity—neutralizing Dak’s defenses. Protocol demanded reciprocity, forcing Dak to release his grip on his dagger and place his right hand on Tarbek’s left shoulder. If he needed to defend himself, he would have to stretch for his dagger with his weaker hand—or drop the hold to use his right. Either option burned precious seconds. As the initiator of the Bridge of Amity, Tarbek retained quick access to his weapons sheathed on his right side.

Dak eyed his twin, his elder by mere minutes. “I trust my instincts.”

His brother’s teeth flashed white in a disarming grin that fell short of his eyes. “I congratulate you on your success.”

“I live to fight another day.” Dak’s gaze didn’t waver. He watched.

Tarbek nodded. “A noble pursuit.” A glint of intent flickered.

Dak dropped hold and lunged for his dagger.

The knife, already in Tarbek’s hand, arced toward Dak’s chest.

Chapter Seventeen

Omra’s footsteps echoed in the hollowness. Though she and Dak had spent lengthy hours apart, they had never been separated overnight, and the knowledge he might not return until the next morn, or the eve, increased her longing. How tart but sweet her yearning was. Never had she imagined she and her Alpha would develop
regard
for one another. She could not have envisioned the life she enjoyed with Dak, would have accused someone of making merriment had they suggested it.

She ran her fingers over the burled wood of the dining table, recalling the evening Dak hosted Marlix and Tarbek, and how she’d feared he would share her. Instead, events had led to the banishment of Corren. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Did Dak’s former beta hate her as much as Sival did? She had inspired the Commander’s regard but bitter enmity in others. But she would choose the hostility of dozens for the regard of one man. Her Alpha.

Responsibilities of command would lay first claim to him. That she understood and accepted. Often Dak’s duties demanded his presence from sunrise to sundown, so only the possibility of an overnight absence differed now. But with everything that had happened—her adventure in the Market, the revelation of his feelings, her pregnancy—an unusual restlessness compelled her to pace. From the dining hall she wandered into the food preparation room and eyed the ovens. It was too soon to bake sweetcakes, so she padded to the library. She kept the double doors opened wide, a symbol of change. Once the library’s edifying tomes had been denied to her; now she could peruse them at her leisure—even owned one. She had devoured the Terran history book.

If what she’d read was true—and the photographs seemed to support it—the Terrans were a strange breed. Their customs and lifestyles half horrified, half enthralled her. Did they have no standards of behavior? How did they prevent anarchy in an environment of such abandon? She had pored over the words and pictures, particularly intrigued and a little envious of the freedom females took for granted. The independence and confidence of the Terran vendoress made sense now. She hoped everything Tara had told her was true.

She sat down with the book again to pass the time.

Ensconced in the library, one of the few rooms lacking windows overlooking the compound, she did not realize a visitor had come to call until the buzzer rang. Dak? Hope swelled, but logic dashed it. He’d been gone only a few hours, and he would not signal from outside but would let himself in. Still, she smoothed her hair and her sheath and sprinted to the grand foyer. She skidded to a stop at the sight of Veya standing under the portico.

Why would Veya call upon her in Dak’s absence?

Once she would have flung open the door and offered him the hospitality of Alpha’s domicile, but Dak had extracted her promise to remain inside, not to trust anyone, and she had her questions about him too. Friend or foe? She wasn’t sure.

She activated the com link. “This is Omra, breeder of Alpha Commander Dak,” she announced formally as she spied on him through the glass. She could view him, but he could not see her.

“I am Veya, beta of Alpha Commander Tarbek. I must speak to you about a matter of utmost importance.” He glanced at the window.

Whisperflies fluttered within.
He cannot see you
. “Yes?”

“I demand we meet face-to-face.”

She rubbed her sweaty palms on her thighs. “Under Alpha’s orders I am not able to permit entry to anyone.”

He jerked slightly as if he’d checked an automatic movement to glance over his shoulder at the tall pillars. A blind spot. She scanned the horizon. She could see everywhere but behind the massive stone columns. The hair on her nape tingled. Was someone else out there?

“Alpha is the reason I have come.” He sighed and shook his head. “I am afraid I have disturbing news.”

“What news?” Her stomach plunged. “Did something happen to Da—Alpha?” She reached to unbolt door but froze on the lever.
“Trust no one.”
Dak had been adamant. No one was more perceptive than he. She lowered her hand.

“I am grieved to report Alpha Commander Dak perished this morning.”

“No!” Pain rifled through her. In denial, she clung to Dak’s words.
“Trust no one.”
“No, he’s not dead. You’re lying!”

“What reason would I have to lie?

“I don’t know. But I don’t believe you.” Not Dak. Not Dak. Not Dak.
Veya has to be lying. He has to
. She could not bear her existence if he spoke the truth.

Omra sank onto the floor and hugged her knees, rocking back and forth. In her position she could no longer see Veya, although she could hear him shout through the com line.

“Open the door, Omra,” he ordered.

“Go away!”
“Trust no one.”
Veya lied. If Dak were dead, she’d
know.

But the uneasiness. The anxiety.

Tarbek’s beta thumped on the door. “Omra!”

“Go AWAY!” she screamed and jabbed the button to break the com link.

Dak dead? Not true. But Tarbek’s beta had asked the question himself; why would he lie?

Unless he
had
teamed up with Sival, and he employed a ruse to lure her out of the domicile. She’d accepted his aid in the Market only to be trapped in the conveyance. Had that been the plan? She’d never told Dak of Veya’s involvement in her adventure. It had been a question, but short of a certainty, she did not want to lob accusations against another Alpha’s beta and cause a political incident. But now, she wished she’d mentioned it.

Omra curled her legs beneath her on the hard stone floor and rested her head against the wall. She smoothed her hands over her flat abdomen. She needed to stay calm for Dak’s baby. Alpha had promised she could keep her child. Had vowed to protect her. He
would
live to make good on his word.

She recalled his pleasure with the shirt she’d sewn. Remembered the magical fine texture and softness of the fabric—and the strength and hardness of Dak’s physique underneath. He was one of the fiercest warriors in all the land. Not invincible, but not easily conquered either.

She had only to wait for tomorrow.

The visitor announcer sounded again.

She presented a deaf ear. Let Tarbek’s beta stay outside all night. Dak would dispatch him posthaste upon his arrival if he was foolish enough to remain there that long.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzzzz.

She ignored the persistent signals until her ire ignited. As Alpha’s breeder, she operated under his authority. She had told Veya to leave. He had no business to cause a nuisance. She scrambled to her feet and glanced out the window.

She widened her eyes.

She activated the com line. “Anika?”

Through the glass she gaped at her friend standing beside Veya. She reached to draw the bolt.
“Trust no one.”
But Anika? “What are you doing here?” She stilled her hand over the locking mechanism.

Tears poured down Anika’s white face. Her gaze darted to Veya, then to her feet. “It…it’s true, Omra.”

Omra clutched her throat.
She can’t mean
—“What’s true?”

“W-What you were told a-about the Commander. Alpha is dead.”

Agony sliced through Omra. The words from a trusted friend could not be false.

Nor could the peal of the village bell that pierced the silence. The carillon rang only when an Alpha had died.

Omra burst into tears, and yanked back the bolt.

METAL CLANKED, THE fortified door swung open, and Dak’s breeder rushed outside. Corren nodded at Sival, and they stepped from behind the pillars as Veya grabbed Omra. Sival secured a grip on Anika, although she could not have gotten far due to the injury done to her feet.

“I’m sorry. They forced me to assist them, Omra,” she cried.

The bell pealed again and would continue to ring throughout the day. The knell would carry to the next village, which would strike its own bell. The message would travel across the land. Alpha was dead.

Corren felt Tarbek’s triumph almost as if it were his own. The four of them had set out that morning with a mission: Tarbek to neutralize Dak, and Corren and the two betas to secure Omra’s sale to the interplanetary trader. Only the breeder had refused to open the fortified door.

They’d had a stroke of luck when the breeder’s friend had come to pay Omra a visit. She’d refused to cooperate at first, but they’d dragged her to the stables in order to muffle her shrieks should they carry beyond the compound. He doubted Omra would hear the screams; the soundproofing of Dak’s abode filtered out external noise in addition to containing noises inside. Of course, if the drakor breeder had heard, she might have come running, which was what they had wanted anyway.

Corren eyed a struggling Omra with dislike. She was incorrigible—did not behave in a manner befitting her gender. Though Veya had wrenched her arms behind her, she continued to fight—shrieking and trying to stomp on his feet, even cursing them by name. Why did Veya permit it?
Enough!
Corren stepped forward and struck her across the face. Her head snapped to the left, allowing him the pleasure of backhanding her so that it cracked to the other side.

“Are we going to sell this one too?” Sival gestured at Anika.

No wonder the man lost his position at the BCF. How had he ever attained it in the first place? He was stupid. “No, she isn’t worth anything,” Corren explained in a patronizing tone that sailed over Sival’s head. “We must continue to offer unique, quality breeders to maintain a high price.”

He smirked. Quality breeder? An oxymoron. Such a creature did not exist, but the ignorant interplanetary traders didn’t know that.

“But what if Commander Dak’s breeder isn’t pure anymore?” Sival asked.

Corren knew she wasn’t and presumed Dak had engaged in all manner of depravities with her, not to mention permitting her liberties beyond her status. He had spotted trouble the instant Dak had drawn up in the conveyance with the breeder asleep against him. But he hadn’t figured she would supplant him. The interloper almost had robbed him of his direct access to Alpha. To power.

“As long as a female
appears
to have special qualities, Commander Tarbek can sell them to raise funds for his private military force. This one will bring a particularly high price because she belonged to an Alpha,” Veya explained with more patience than Sival deserved.

Corren’s only regret—and Tarbek’s too, he knew—was that Dak would not feel the loss of his most prized possession.

The evening he’d considered the most humiliating moment of his life instead had proven the turning point. Tarbek had contacted
him
, requested his assistance with a grand plan, and Corren had wormed his way into the Alpha’s inner circle, supplanting Veya as Tarbek’s confidant and sounding board.

Once he had considered Dak the most powerful Alpha, but Tarbek had proved otherwise. While Dak had failed to raise concern among the High Council members over the treatment of the breeders, Tarbek had feared that if his brother continued his investigations, he might uncover his plot to mobilize a guerilla army to overthrow the other Commanders and rule as the sole Alpha of Parseon. So Tarbek had been forced to kill him. His plan had been to make it appear like an act of self-defense, to make it appear Dak had struck first.

Corren sized up Veya. He was keen of mind, likable, and loyal to Tarbek. But, if he were to suffer an
accident
—say, like the one that had befallen Kumar, Corren could finalize the shipment of breeders himself. Tarbek would recognize his leadership, could get him redesignated as alpha, perhaps even promoted to subcommander.

Corren glanced at Sival. Best not to leave any witnesses. Even stupid ones.

Sival tilted his head toward Omra’s breeder friend. “So what are we going to do with her?”

How could the man function when he was so distracted by extraneous details?

“This.” Corren drew his dagger and slashed her throat.

“ANIKA!” Dak’s breeder screamed and slammed her head into Veya’s chin, loosening his grip enough to break free. She ran, but Corren tackled her. He flipped her over. Though she gasped for air, she fought, flailing her arms, striking at his face, scratching at his eyes.

By straddling her chest, he pinned her arms, but she bucked and tried to knee him. “Breeder, drakor!” He pummeled her, striking her in the face until her blood ran, and she stopped moving.

“Do not damage her to the extent she cannot be sold,” Veya said, pragmatic as always.

“She will spend many weeks in transit before she reaches Verona,” Corren said, but he rose to his feet and flexed his knuckles. “Any blemishes will clear. And it isn’t her face the buyer cares about.” Omra’s shift had ridden up over her hips in the skirmish to reveal her sex, secured by the lock-ring. “The telenium alone will command a hefty price,” he said.

“We had better make haste and deliver her to the interplanetary docking station,” Veya urged. “Neither the buyer nor Tarbek was pleased when she failed to arrive the last time.”