War Bride (Battle Born Book 7) (14 page)

“The oldest was five, maybe six. The others around four and two.”

He sighed. Six years wouldn’t be long enough for Arton to work through his bitterness? Another pang of sorrow compressed Kryton’s heart, but determination soon swept it aside. “I don’t care how long it takes. I will help him through it.”

* * * * *

Kryton had been involved in countless missions that were much more complicated and dangerous. So why was his pulse pounding? He knew the answer, but couldn’t allow himself to think about why this mission was so much more important. He and Tonn were in position on the south side of Rainforter Boulevard. Slightly staggered from where they hovered, Jafftin and Rondar waited on the north. Both teams were in compact shuttles with camouflage shielding. The reflective panels fell short of true invisibility, but allowed any vehicle to blend with its environment.

Skyla sat quietly in the second row of seats. Her behavior had been exemplary ever since they left Lux Manor. Still, she was another distraction Kryton couldn’t afford.

“Here they come.” Tonn motioned to the skimmer speeding along the road. As promised, Arton sat beside the pilot and two guards took up the second row of seats on the open hovercraft. There were no other vehicles and no air cover. The harbingers had grown careless, or overconfident. Kryton didn’t care which. He was happy to take advantage of their arrogance either way.

He’d instructed Jafftin and Rondar to remain at the ready, but only intervene if he and Tonn failed to incapacitate the guards.

The skimmer rapidly approached their position and Kryton carefully targeted the power pack and navigation with his forward blasters. He had to immobilize the craft without blowing his son up in the process or catapulting him into the lake. Using a minimal power setting, he shot three fast bursts into strategic areas of the skimmer. Sparks flew into the air and the hovercraft careened out of control.

“Move out,” he shouted, already out of his seat.

Ignoring the three stairs which they’d lowered a short time before, Tonn jumped out of the main hatch and nimbly landed on the ground.

Kryton followed suit, charging the skimmer as it smashed into a nearby hill, violently jarring the passengers. The guards recovered quickly and leapt to the ground, pulse rifles drawn. Tonn focused on one while Kryton took the other. Kryton’s guard got off the first shot, but the pulse went wide. With steely determination, Kryton aimed his pistol and shot, sending a narrow stream of energy into the guard’s chest. The guard screamed and his eyes rolled back in his head. His rifle dropped from his hands half a second before his unconscious body collapsed.

Tonn had even better luck. He dropped his guard before the man managed to fire a shot.

Rondar and Jafftin rushed forward, ready with restraints. Confident that the situation was under control, Kryton turned back toward the skimmer. The pilot stood to one side, looking rather dazed. But Arton was nowhere in sight.

“Shit!” Kryton looked up and down the road, then toward the lake, but still saw no evidence of his son.

“He ran into the trees,” Skyla called as she dashed off in the same direction.

Sprinting after her, he easily caught up to her slower pace. Why had Arton taken off? It didn’t make sense.

They heard the sharp snap of tree branches and an alarmed yell. Kryton ran even faster. He crashed through some underbrush and nearly trampled Arton, who now sat on the forest floor. His knee was bent and he rubbed his ankle, fear and mistrust burned from his silver-ringed eyes.

Kryton faced his son, holding both hands up, palms showing. “We’re here to help you, son. There’s no reason to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid and I’m not your son,” Arton snapped, his hostile gaze shifting to Skyla then back.

“Arton,” Kryton tried a softer tone. “Look at me. It’s been a very long time, but you know me.”

Rather than responding to the request, Arton turned his head toward Skyla. “Who are you and why has your image haunted my dreams?”

She moved slowly forward until she stood beside Kryton. “My name is Skyla. I’m your father’s
morautu
.”

Arton scoffed. “I was born to my father’s
morautu
. You are not my mother.”

Kryton sucked in a ragged breath. The harbingers hadn’t told him about his mother’s death? Now, after a twelve-year separation, he had the dreaded task of informing his son that his mother was murdered.

Before he could pull himself together enough to speak, Skyla took control of the situation. She stepped closer, then knelt in the dirt at Arton’s side. She didn’t touch him and kept plenty of space between her and the hostile young man, but now their eyes were on a level.

“I’m very sorry to inform you that your mother has passed beyond.”

He could no longer see her face, but her voice was soft and compassionate.

Arton looked at him then back at Skyla. There was no outward reaction to the news. Instead, he asked, “Is he really my father?”

“Yes. We’ve come to take you home.”

Another scoff escaped his son and Kryton cringed. He never even considered whether or not Arton would welcome the rescue.

“I’ve been at the academy for most of my life. Why change things now?”

He started to defend himself, to tell Arton all the times he’d attempted a rescue, all the strategies he’d tried, but Skyla gave him a mental nudge.

Not now. We need to get him to safety and tend his injury.
He acknowledged her suggestion with a subtle nod, so she held her hand out toward Arton. “We’re here now. Would you like to see your ancestral home? Nothing will be forced on you.”

Kryton tensed. Like hells it wouldn’t. There was no way in creation Arton was going back to the harbingers. He let Skyla feel his frustration, but forced himself to remain silent.

Arton’s gaze finally locked with his. “They said you’d abandoned me. That your life had moved on and you’d forgotten.”

“How could I forget my own flesh and blood?” Tears swam before his eyes and he frantically blinked them away. “Thoughts of you have never left my mind.”

“We need to move,” Skyla stressed. “It’s not safe to linger here.”

Still Arton hesitated. He rubbed his ankle and stared off into the trees. “If one word you’ve spoken is untrue, I will insist that you return me to the academy.”

“Understood.” Kryton moved up beside Skyla and held out is hand toward his son.

After a short pause, Arton took his hand and allowed Kryton to pull him to his feet. With one unsteady step, Arton realized he couldn’t put weight on his injured foot. Kryton tried to support him with Arton’s arm across his shoulders, but even that wasn’t adequate.

“Carry him,” Skyla urged. “We need to get out of here.”

He wasn’t about to argue, but Arton held up his hand and shook his head. “I will not be carried like a child!”

Kryton chuckled. “Then how would you like to be carried? You can’t put weight on that foot until your ankle is stabilized.”

With an exasperated growl, Arton allowed Kryton to pick him up.

By the time they returned to the road, Rondar and Jafftin had departed and the guards were nowhere in sight.

“The pilot insists on staying with the hovercraft,” Tonn told them as they approached Kryton’s shuttle.

“What have you done with my bodyguards?” Arton demanded to know.

“They’re on their way back to the academy.” Tonn looked at Kryton as he added, “Rondar said to com him if you don’t want them released.”

“The guards were just following orders. It’s the people issuing those orders who are going to answer to me.”

Arton began to brood as they secured him in a seat and prepared to take off.

“Are you okay?” Skyla asked after a long silent pause.

“I don’t understand any of this.” He looked at her then away, his expression conflicted.

The misery in his gaze tore through Kryton. His son believed he’d been deserted, that his parents didn’t care for him. He hadn’t even known his mother was dead. Hatred for the harbingers boiled up within him, spilling over into focused rage. Every member of that accursed guild who ever lied to Arton would pay for their cruel deceit. He didn’t care how long it took, every single one of those bastards would pay.

Tension built as the silence lengthened. Arton fidgeted in his chair, his anxious gaze looking everywhere but at Kryton.

“Where…where are you taking me?”

Skyla reached over and took Arton’s hand, giving it a maternal squeeze. “We’re taking you to Lux Manor.” She paused for a friendly smile. “You’re going home.”

* * * * *

Four hours later, Skyla pressed against Kryton’s back and wrapped her arms around his waist. “We did it.” She tried to sound enthusiastic, but she felt emotionally drained. “Arton is sound asleep in his bed. He’s safe and he’s back where he belongs.”

Kryton slowly turned within the circle of her arms and leaned back against the balcony’s railing. She wasn’t the only one who liked to stare out at the sea when their mind was troubled. “
You
did it. Arton has no use for me.”

“Give him time.” She tilted her head back so she could look into his eyes. “It took twelve years for the harbingers to twist his thinking. We won’t be able to untwist it overnight, but we will untwist it.”

“He seems so lost.”

As did his father, but she kept the thought to herself. Kryton’s muddle was understandable. All of this had happened incredibly fast. “He needs love and stability. We can give him both.”

“He needs to know the truth, all of it. He’ll sense any deception.”

She nodded. “He is incredibly perceptive.” Arton hadn’t said much on the shuttle ride home, but the few things he had said were real zingers.

“Why was your image in his dreams? Was it just a harbinger thing?”

“I think he was inadvertently tuning in while I was trying to contact him. My signal wasn’t strong enough to punch through, yet it was persistent enough to reoccur.”

“That makes sense.” Kryton sighed. “As much as any of this makes sense. I didn’t think it was possible for me to hate the harbingers any more, but I do.”

She moved her hands to his chest and rocked to the balls of her feet, bringing her face closer to his. “Hate can keep you focused and give you energy. It can also consume you until there’s nothing left.”

He bent down and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “I’m so glad you’re here. None of this would have been possible without you.”

“Your welcome, but now the real work begins. We have to rebuild trust and unteach all the misinformation the harbingers fed him.”

His warm palms framed her face as he stared into her eyes. “I couldn’t do this without you. I’m not equipped for this sort of thing.”

“Do you love your son?”

“Of course I do.” He seemed insulted by the question.

“Can you be patient and supportive?”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “Sometimes.”

“Then you have everything you need.”

For a long time, Kryton just held her. They turned sideways so they could both see the water. His hand stroked the back of her head, his fingers sinking into her hair. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

Confused by the odd question, she looked up at him. “A name for what?”

“Our son. Isn’t it Bilarrian custom for the mother to name the firstborn?”

That was the custom, but she was shocked that he knew about it. “I don’t even know for sure that I’m pregnant.”

“If you’re not, we’ll keep trying until you are.”

Her vision gave her confidence that she wouldn’t have too long to wait. Still, she hadn’t really thought about a name. “What do you think about Sedrik? That was my favorite grandfather’s name.”

“It’s not bad. How about Kaden? That was my father’s name,” Kryton countered.

“Kaden sounds more like a second son to me.”

Kryton chuckled. “All right. We’ll stick with Sedrik. Commander Sedrik Lux.
General
Sedrik Lux. I like the sound of that.”

“Hold on a minute. Why does he have to join the military? Maybe I want a different sort of life for our son.”

He tensed and his tone grew serious, as did his expression. “Even though you’re my
morautu
, our sons will be considered battle born. The military is the most common profession for battle born sons.”

She wasn’t pleased by that tidbit. But how could she object to the career path without insulting a lifelong soldier? They had many years to settle the debate. Sedrik was not yet born, and Kaden would arrive two years later. Rather than continue the awkward discussion, she returned to the playful topic. “We’ve named babies one and two. What about little number three?”

“I’ll have to give that one some thought.”

“Fair enough.” She reached down and took his hand. “If we’re all out of names, let’s go to bed.”

He entwined their fingers and gave her a little squeeze. “My thoughts exactly.”

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