Razor's Traitorous Heart: The Alliance Book 2

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my husband Steve for
believing in me and being proud enough of me to give me the courage
to follow my dream. I would also like to give a special thank you
to my sister and best friend Linda, who not only encouraged me to
write, but who also read the manuscript. Also to my other friends
who believe in me: Julie, Jackie, Lisa, Sally, Elizabeth (Beth) and
Narelle. The girls that keep me going!

—S. E. Smith

IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

Science Fiction Romance

RAZOR’S TRAITOROUS HEART: THE ALLIANCE BOOK
2

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by S. E. Smith

First E-Book Published June 2014

Cover Design by Melody Simmons

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book are fictitious or have been used fictitiously and are not to
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dead, actual events, locales, or organizations are strictly
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Synopsis

Kali Parks is a shadow in the war between two
factions that are fighting to gain control of Chicago. Born and
raised on the streets, she stands as a silent sentinel at her
brother’s side as he battles to gain control. She will do whatever
it takes to bring peace to those she has pledged her life to
protect, including fighting against the creatures that came to
their world almost six years before.

Razor, a High Chancellor for the Alliance,
has been sent to oversee the remaining Trivator troops on Earth and
make sure the transition for the induction of Earth into the
Alliance goes smoothly. He is the one the Alliance calls when they
have a situation that needs to be resolved once and for all. His
reputation for dealing with difficult rebels is renowned. He asks
no questions and takes no prisoners. His job is to eliminate all
threats to the Alliance.

He finds himself torn between duty and
something he is unfamiliar with, his heart. When a shadow warrior
saves his life and disappears, he discovers his world is no longer
as cut and dry as he thought. The more he learns, the more he
discovers he is not immune to the warrior’s passionate desire to
fight to protect her people.

Forced by duty to settle the conflict, he
must decide between the Alliance and his own desire to claim the
unwilling warrior. When the conflict escalates, he does the only
thing he can; he makes a pact with one of the factions in exchange
for a prize that will surely cause a battle of a different kind –
the one for his traitorous heart.

Will he be able to claim her before she
escapes from him again? Or worse, will she sacrifice her life to
protect those she loves before he can?

“Prepare the cleanup,” Razor’s deep voice
ordered as he watched the fires burning in the remains of the city
far below. “I want reconstruction of the city to begin within the
month.”

“Yes, sir,” the male standing behind him
replied.

“Was this really necessary?” The human male
standing next to him asked in a shaken voice.

The huge Trivator warrior, known only by the
name of Razor, stood in rigid silence on the bridge of the
observation warship. The advanced command ship was overseeing the
demolition of the city below. The human city that was once called
Mexico City was now a pile of burning rubble. All life, all
buildings, everything had been wiped clean.

Razor had earned his name. He cut through
the resistance like a fine scalpel slicing through a life-giving
artery. He was brought in when all others failed.

He was one of three High Chancellors for the
Alliance and was in charge of the vast military structure. He was
also one of the most controversial members among the council. It
was his job to oversee the vast number of Trivator troops that made
up the security forces of the Alliance. Their job was to initiate
first contact, subdue any fear, and establish a safe environment
for additional members of the Alliance to begin the process of
bringing the new world under their protection.

He was used to the fear when they first made
contact with a new species. Most beings soon realized that the
Alliance was there not to harm or control, but to help bring them
into the larger and often more advanced star systems surrounding
them. For young, unprepared planets such as this, it could be
frightening and some resistance was to be expected. Still, the
humans had been surprisingly stubborn to the point they would
rather destroy their world than accept the visitors they had
unwittingly invited through the messages they sent out.

Razor’s eyes narrowed on the ruins below
him. This was a perfect example of the waste of resources and life.
He had no regrets for his actions. The humans below had been warned
that the Alliance had reached the end of its patience with those
that continued to rebel against them.

The Alliance had finally decided it was no
longer willing to waste time and resources to bring the last of the
major cities on the planet under control. The rebels were warned to
cease fighting and work with the new world government that was
established or be erased. Those controlling the city below had
refused the twelve hour grace period. Exactly one minute after the
deadline, demolition ships began flattening the city.

Razor stared calmly down at the destruction.
Since his arrival on the planet six months before, he had already
resolved the issues with the rebels on the other side of the world
that continued to resist integration into the Alliance. The small
rebel groups in Cairo, Paris, and Riyadh had agreed to lay down
their arms and the cities were currently being rebuilt. Of course,
those agreements had come after he had ordered the Ukraine’s city
of Kyiv leveled after rebels there opened fire. He had warned them
what would happen. Those that refused to leave at first had fled in
desperation as the huge destroyers began demolition of the city.
Those that continued to resist died.

“Yes,” he replied coolly to the human
representative that had been assigned to the region.

“You should have…” The man began.

“Resistance will no longer be tolerated. It
is time to accept that your world is no longer alone in the
universe. The Alliance’s decision is final. It is time to rebuild
your world and move forward.”

*.*.*

Juan Rodriguez, the new Mexican
representative to the Alliance, swallowed as the large alien next
to him turned and walked away. His eyes moved to the city where he
had been born. It had taken less than an hour for the city to be
leveled. The power and precision behind the destruction left him
shaken.

His eyes moved to the dozens of large
Destroyers that scanned for remains. A shiver of fear ran through
him. It was hard to believe it was only six short years since the
alien warships appeared in the skies around the planet. Since then,
he had moved from being a simple, newly graduated University of
Mexico student in Political Science to being the representative for
his people.

His eyes clouded as he remembered his
passionate plea for peace. He had been shocked when the Alliance
heard of him and approached him about being a representative for
his people in the New World Government. They said they were
impressed with his determination to calm those that continued to
fight, his courage to face his opposition head on, and his
willingness to face the council.

“What have we done?” He wondered under his
breath as he gazed down at the devastation and thought of the men
and women who refused to leave. “They should have listened to me
when I warned them.”

Silence was his only answer. Around him,
members of the Trivator troops worked seamlessly to guide the
command ship over the remains. He glanced at the massive males that
towered over his own five foot nine frame. Their bodies were built
for killing. He knew from experience that they were fast, agile,
and deadly.

His eyes swept over the leader of the
Trivators. Razor… no surname… just Razor. He was actually slightly
shorter by comparison, if you could call being close to seven feet
tall short. There was something about him that made him seem more
threatening than any of the others. There was a coldness, a
stillness that spoke of barely controlled violence.

Juan turned back to stare down at the fires
and sighed. If this is what the man was like when he was calm, he
hated to think of what he could do if he ever lost control. He
wouldn’t be surprised if the world did come to an end then, this
time from the aliens instead of mankind.

God in heaven,
he thought as he
remembered the cold yellow-gold eyes,
I feel sorry for anyone
who makes him mad.

“What was this city called?” Razor asked the
human pilot sitting beside him.

He glanced down at the darkened ruins.
Cutter, his second-in-command, had given him a report on it, but a
new issue on the way to the area had taken priority. He had arrived
earlier that day to meet with other members of the Alliance
council.

He had been furious to discover the number
of details that had been deleted from the previously submitted
reports. Badrick, the Usoleum council member who had formerly been
in charge of this star system, had a lot to answer for as far as
Razor was concerned. Badrick was lucky to be alive after he
discovered the bastard had approved many of the falsified reports
submitted to the Trivator generals and the council over the past
six years.

Badrick’s interference, compounded with his
incompetence, was a big reason the Earth was still in such a mess.
It was only because most of the evidence was circumstantial that he
was unable to remove Badrick and ship him off-world. Badrick had
done an excellent job of blaming others for his decisions. It was a
slow process, but Razor was working on unraveling the Usoleum
Councilman’s lies.

“Chicago,” the pilot responded through the
headset. “Colonel Baker is in charge of this area. There are two
groups of rebels fighting for control. The fighting has heated up
over the past few months. They’ve divided the city in half between
the north and south by building a huge-ass wall, reminds me a bit
of the Great Wall of China only it’s made out of rubble. We call it
the Great Wall of Chicago,” the pilot joked.

Razor didn’t reply. He could see the twenty
foot high by thirty foot wide wall that cut the city in half. The
ghostly figures of cranes towered over sections of it like silent
sentinels in the night. There were dots of light, probably from
small fires, glowing faintly in the dark. He silently calculated
how long it would take to level the city if the two opposing sides
refused to lay down their arms.

“How much further to the base?” Razor
asked.

“About forty-five minutes,” the pilot
replied.

Razor was silent. He would have preferred to
have brought his own transport, but an emergency pickup for several
wounded Trivator warriors was needed outside the city. He had
ordered his own pilot to assist with the evacuation. The commanding
human officer on location had offered the use of their own
transport so that he could continue to his meeting with Colonel
Baker. A journey that should have taken a few minutes had stretched
into over an hour so far.