Soros: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Alien - Human Military Romance) (14 page)

K
at stumbled on
, Romod's grip around her arm hurting more than it had to.

She didn't let it show, refusing to give the man the satisfaction of seeing how badly he was bruising her.

The situation was more than dire. She had thought she was so clever, but Kat was beginning to realize that the bodyguards had tricked her. They had never lost her from the moment she first gave herself away.

Perhaps they couldn't see her, but they had figured out that she was trying to follow them. After that, slowly letting her relax her guard had been a piece of cake.

Kat cursed herself for being so foolish, but she hadn’t seen another way either. They had dangled Turian before her like a carrot, but since it was what she had wanted, Kat had taken the bait without question. She didn't fear for her life. Ever since she’d met Soros, that most natural dread had left her. Self-preservation wasn't the issue, but the horrible prospect of never seeing Soros again was. Never finding out what they could be together, how nice it would be to see him unguarded, free.

Compared to losing that, death was nothing.

She kept hearing Soros' voice in her head.

He'd present your tortured body to me before cutting your throat before my eyes
.

That was the worst thing, to be used as a weapon against Soros. She had been weak enough to be captured, and now she'd take the commander down with her.

"No," she told herself silently. "I won't let that happen."

Apparently the hearing of her captors was still as excellent as ever.

"What won't you let happen?" Challen asked mockingly.

He didn't taunt her further, but Kat could read it all between the lines.

Captured. Helpless. Alone.

Not a Corgan warrior.

She ignored the question, instead asking, "What will your lord do to me?"

"He doesn't know yet," Romod said, the perverse amusement plain in his voice. "We might send you to the Union in as many pieces as we can, to serve as a warning. Or our lord will play with you before sending you to Soros, ruined. Maybe both."

Words. I've heard words before
, Kat told herself, but she couldn't deny the prospect of being at Turian’s mercy turned her blood into ice.

Funnily enough, it also enraged her, mixing fire with ice.

But it did give her something – the knowledge that Turian still wanted to use her to hurt Soros. Until he saw value in her as a hostage, her life wasn't in immediate danger. Of course it didn't mean they couldn't hurt her, as Romod had implied.

I will endure it. As long as I can find a way to help Soros, it's all worth it.

She couldn't help thinking of the other thing Romod had said. That they would send her to Soros, "ruined". The threat of rape wasn't the least bit subtle.

There was no question about it – not that there ever had been – Kat knew she needed to escape.

First, she had to complete her task and find out where Turian was. If nothing else good came of her capture, at least that.

Second, she’d have to get the hell away from him
and
his guard dogs.

T
urian was waiting for her
.

She had only seen the clan lord once before, up in the Grouvelle mountains. There, Turian had been alone and clearly uneasy in the company of his old commander. Kat's actions had not made it any better.

As soon as she was led into the great underground crypt, Kat realized she'd only seen one side of him. She had seen him through the eyes of a panicking, tense girl trying desperately to save two lives from his grip. Though he had all the arrogance in the world, her slight upper hand over him had made him seem somehow smaller and less imposing.

Now, she was meeting Turian the clan lord.

The man turned to her, his blue eyes shining in the dim light. The room around them was impressive, with a high ceiling and all the warmth of a tomb. Glancing around, Kat saw weird and off-putting equipment, but that was not what drew her attention. Her eyes were quickly nailed to Turian as the clan lord approached calmly, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Kat hated being the reason for that smug expression, but she said nothing. Romod and Challen had let her go, stepping back a bit, but Kat decided not to try anything stupid until she still had a chance to walk away alive.

Her hand itched for the gun, and even more for the transmitter. Only a couple of words and Soros would know where to find them, she had no doubt of that.

Patience,
she told herself gently.

She had to admit that Turian was impressive, up so close. Kat would have dearly wanted to believe that Soros was invincible and that he had no match, but without the commander's presence, Turian seemed more dangerous.

He was tall and his stance was proud, his powerful body moving with ease, showing his effortless strength. But his eyes were what truly held Kat's gaze.

They were bright and cruel – the true look of evil if she'd ever seen it. All thoughts of bargaining or explaining were banished from her mind. Turian did not look like a man who listened. There was only his way or nothing at all.

Kat realized Soros' warning had been correct. Turian would kill her without any words or drama or a big speech the second she was no longer useful. He would just pull one of those gleaming long blades free and cut her head off.

Miraculously, she managed to think of that without a tremble of fear. She'd spent so much of her time on Hetton being afraid that it looked like she'd spent her reserves.

The worst had already happened. Now she needed to fix what was left.

"Where did you find her?" Turian asked his bodyguards.

She could hear them move behind her. Knowing what her cloak could do, they weren't going to let her out of their sights.

"On the second floor near the warriors' quarters," Challen said. "She has a very odd device on her, lord. Turns her invisible. We nearly walked past her."

"Does she now?" the clan lord asked, his eyes flashing with guarded amusement, coming closer.

He stopped right in front of Kat and she forced herself to stay still, to not move. The temptation was so great that she could almost taste it. Her gun was on her hip, loaded, ready to fire. One clean shot was all it would take.

Kat had proven that she wasn't the worst shot in the world. And at point-blank range, how could she possibly miss?

Only, she had seen Romod and Challen move. Apprehending her had been no task at all, but now she had an idea what they were capable of. If they were half as good as they seemed, she'd be dead before her fingers touched the gun.

They should be
, Kat thought.
Soros taught them.

She resisted the urge to reach for her gun, but it took all her self-control. Turian was so close to her, his face inches from hers. For a second, it seemed to Kat that the clan lord was going to kiss her, but he didn't.

Instead, he bared his teeth in a vicious snarl.

Guess I’m not irresistible to quite all the scary Corgan warlords.

"I wanted to ask you back at Grouvelle. Where did you get such a trinket?" he asked her. "The Palians, I assume?"

Well, no harm in telling him.

"Yes," she said.

"Impressive," Turian went on. "It must have cost a lot."

"It did," Kat replied. "But it's worth the money. It's gotten me out of a lot of tough spots."

Turian laughed. His bodyguards did not.

"Didn't protect you from my men, did it?" he asked, observing her with those merciless eyes.

"No," Kat said, wondering if she was playing with fire. "Most men don't hear a feather drop in a crowded hall. Only very exceptional warriors."

She heard shuffling behind her as Turian grinned at her.

"You hold my men in very high regard," he said, his deep voice distorted. "Very good."

"Of course," Kat pressed on, feeling her heartbeat quicken. "Commander Soros trained them, after all.
He
was able to track my movements under a whole unit of fighters. I remember you didn't. I wonder where he went wrong with you,
lord
."

The clan lord's blow sent her skidding on the floor. The pain was so sharp that at first, Kat thought he'd broken her jaw. She slid her tongue over her teeth, checking to see if they were all there.

Luckily, yes. It meant Turian had been holding back, which was good. He still had some level of control over himself when it came to her and her insolence.

With her head spinning, Kat pushed herself back to her feet, facing Turian again. The smile had disappeared from the clan lord's face and pure rage had taken its place.

"Never speak to me like that," he growled. "I would rather not ruin your pretty face. I want Soros to be able to identify you when I present you to him."

Kat wanted to stop, badly, but she couldn't. The madder Turian was, the better. And if she could damage his reputation in the eyes of his warriors, well, that would just put a cherry on top of it all.

"Go ahead," she said, hoping he didn't take her up on her offer. "Threatening a defenseless woman like me, I see why Soros doesn't consider you a threat."

Again, there was shuffling behind her. Kat would have dearly wanted to see the looks on Turian's bodyguards' faces, but she couldn't turn around. She could only hope that they were listening and paying attention.

Turian was a bastard and a coward, and all of them were Corgan. The species didn't have much patience for leaders who were unable to deal with their enemies. Chieftain Nadar Brenger knew that better than anyone.

Kat knew that his new regime was balancing on the edge of a knife. It could very well have depended on how the day ended at Dolon Hall.

The Union didn't have endless patience either.

But now, Turian was smiling again.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he told her, moving away to her great relief. "Soros is a fool. You two think you're so clever, but I know him as well as I know myself. He thinks it's a weakness for me to only care about myself, but he's wrong. As difficult as it must be for you to see.

“I would not run off to save my men. Not to mention the academy. They hold no value to me.
He
, on the other hand, would come for you."

There it was. She was being used.

"He will kill you once he gets here," Kat said defiantly.

Turian shrugged.

"If I allowed that, maybe," the clan lord said. "But I didn't come unprepared. I let Soros trick me once. And don't think I've forgotten your treacherous shot. That is not going to happen again."

The bastards do heal fast
, Kat thought.
He's not even limping, and there is no sign of the wound. But I bet it didn't look good to his men.

She forced herself to smile.

"Nothing treacherous about taking the enemy out when you can," she said.

"I agree," Turian concurred, to her surprise. "That is why I've chosen to learn a trick from
you
. What do you think of my newest bodyguard?"

Kat felt something move against her a second before an invisible hand wrapped itself around her throat. She choked, prying at the fingers hopelessly, but she still couldn't see the attacker. The only thing she could see were Turian's cold, ruthless eyes staring at her.

No
, she thought.
You can't do this. This is not… fair!

It had occurred to her that Romod and Challen had picked up her presence too easily. Even if Turian had told them about her cloak, Palian technology usually worked its magic on everyone. They were good, very good, but despite what she'd said, Kat had really been surprised that they’d detected her presence past the initial possible fumble. She didn't think she'd given herself away.

Now it made more sense. They knew what to look for because they'd seen the cloak at work before.

An insane thought went through her head as she felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

Soros is better than all of you. He figured it all out himself.

Just as she was beginning to think that Turian really was going to let the invisible bodyguard kill her, the clan lord signaled and she was dropped to the ground. Coughing, Kat tried to use the precious seconds to figure out her escape.

Soros had been wrong. Turian had no intention whatsoever of facing him honestly. He never had. As the presence vanished from her side, Kat finally understood how long Turian had been planning this.

The Palian cloaks were very difficult to get, especially for a man like Turian. He must have been scouring the galaxy for one since Kat and Soros had made their escape into the ice ocean. Kat’s stomach twisted with revulsion at the realization that she had given the clan lord the idea and now it might cost them both dearly.

"After today, no one will question my power," Turian told her from somewhere far away.

Like pieces of a puzzle, the story started to come together in her mind.

"You don't care," she whispered breathlessly, her throat sore from the chokehold. "You don't care about the Union. This is about Soros."

Turian didn't reply, which was answer enough. Kat's head was spinning, trying to see through the lies the clan lord had told everyone, including the men dying for him.

"You are using him," she whispered. "You don't hate Nadar Brenger for what he's doing, you want to be
the chieftain
in his stead. This is not a battle, this is a trophy hunt. If you kill Soros, no one will dare stand in your way."

Words were spilling forth from her mouth, not even bothering to take a detour into her brain. It simply finally made sense. All the things that had seemed off before, all the characteristics that didn't fit.

She wasn't in the middle of some political dispute. Soros and her were standing in the way of a maniac, trying to climb the ladder to the top by using them as steps.

No
, Kat thought, cheated anger rushing through her.
I will not let you.

She didn't hold any particular loyalty to the Corgan chieftain, and neither did Soros, but Turian… He wasn't fit to rule over anything. He was a simple psychopath, using men who were raised to obey his rank to further his selfish needs. Cheating them into thinking he was their champion.