Ice Baron (Ice Chronicles, Book One (science fiction romance)) (37 page)

A laugh battled with her despair.
She went to him and gripped the lapels of his uniform jacket. It was her
favorite one—the baron’s cream jacket with gold trim. She had always thought he
looked so handsome in it. “I will never renounce you,” she told him. “Never.”

“Any…” His gaze flicked over her
shoulder.

The automatic door hissed. Someone
had come in.

Perfect. Now was her opportunity
to end this argument once and for all. Anya’s hands slid up and curved around
the back of Joshua’s neck. His eyes narrowed, anticipating her plan, and he
refused to allow her to tug down his head.

No matter. She went up on her toes
and kissed him, full on the mouth. His lips felt hard and unyielding, but she
pressed closer to him and stroked his hair.

He broke the kiss by turning his
face aside. “Anya.” Although the guttural word was clearly meant to be
reproving, it sounded tortured, instead.

Encouraged, and ignoring their
silent, condemning audience, Anya nuzzled his neck and pressed kisses into the
strong line of his throat. Now, no one could ever doubt that she was a more
than willing participant in the broadcasted elevator kiss.

Joshua convulsively swallowed. “Stop.
That is enough.”

A throat cleared behind her. “We
have news,” Ray said. “You’re wanted in the Command Center. Anya, too.”

*  *  *  *  *

Richert’s weathered face filled
the main viewing screen when they returned to the Command Center. The territory
baron’s obsidian eyes seemed to bore into the room, as if he could read the
thoughts of everyone present. The thick, silvered black brows bristled in their
usual, unfriendly manner, but an uncharacteristic smile curled his lips. Unease
struck Anya when she saw it.

“Joshua,” her uncle growled. “Lost
power, eh? Sorry to deliver more bad news. But I have someone you know.” When
he scowled, the camera zoomed back to reveal a torso shot of Richert sitting at
a conference table. Next to him, with a laser to his temple, sat Michael.

Anya gasped. Michael’s features
appeared stoic, and he very much reminded her of his brother right then.

“What do you want?” Joshua bit
out.

Richert cackled. “You haven’t seen
everything. Yet.” He waved an impatient hand, and another video feed superimposed
over the bottom corner of the screen. A slow pan revealed a wall shot of the
parked birds in ZCA.

Joshua went pale.

Birn scowled. “What’s that?”

Anya remembered that for security
reasons, Joshua had told his commanders very little about ZCA or its location.
Now it seemed to be a moot point. Richert’s men had discovered ZCA. The secret
was out.

Another screen shot popped into
the other corner of the screen. Slovic and many other men knelt in ZCA’s Command
Central, hands on their heads. Both small screens revealed few actual details
of ZCA, Anya realized, but enough so that Joshua would understand that Richert
now owned control of their last military stronghold.

“Understand what this means,
Joshua?” Richert queried. When Joshua’s jaw clenched, the old baron pressed, “What
about your men? Do they understand?”

Tersely, Joshua told Birn and Ray,
“They have ZCA.”

Disbelief registered, and then Ray’s
face went blank.

Furious color darkened Birn’s
skin. He cursed. “You bastard!”

Richert ignored this. His gaze
remained focused upon Joshua. “I’ve got you. I suggest you surrender Donetsk Terr itory now. No more bloodshed is necessary.”

Anya felt sick. Her head had
warned her that this would happen. Her illogical heart had wanted to trust the
crotchety, hurting—
megalomaniac
—old man who was her uncle. She wanted to
curse the two-faced man and call him every foul name under the sun, but she did
not. Trembling with emotion, she turned her back on the screen.

Every man in Command Central
mutely turned to Joshua, unconsciously seeking his opinion and his leadership.
All except for Birn, who blustered, “We’ll fight you to the death, Richert!”

“No,” Joshua said. “It’s over.
After last night, our air fleet is down by more than two-thirds. Without ZCA,
we have nothing. Richert knows it.”

Birn bellowed, “It’s over when I
say it’s over!”

“Birn,” Ray said quietly.

Birn strode to the video console
and slammed down his fist. The TV screen froze. “I am baron now. The men will
follow
my
orders.”

“Logically, victory is impossible,”
Ray returned. “ZCA houses most of our remaining aircraft. We may have fifty
birds scattered throughout the territory. We can’t win against Richert with
fifty birds.”

“Our army is strong,” Birn argued.
“We can take Richert.” Gaze hot and nostrils flaring, he turned to Joshua. “Give
me ZCA’s coordinates. Our divisions can be there in a day. We’ll blow Richert
sky high.”

“You’d destroy ZCA?” Joshua said
with disbelief.

“Better than letting that bastard
control it. Give me the coordinates!”

“No.”

“I’ll throw you in prison!” Birn
shouted.

“Birn,” Ray interjected coolly. “It’s
over.”

One by one, the other high level
commanders in the room agreed with Ray and Joshua’s assessment of the situation.
Surrender was inevitable. The deaths of more men would be a waste.

Fury pulsed Birn’s cheeks. He said
nothing for long minutes. Then he slammed a fist onto the viewer button again.
Birn’s moment of power had come and gone in the blink of an eye.

Richert leaned forward, hands
clasped. His glittering eyes looked like black, expectant beetles, eager to
devour their territory in one gulp. “Well?” he said with ill hidden glee. “Have
you come to a decision?”

Birn’s fists clenched. It appeared
he’d sooner vomit than say the words required of him.

Long moments passed.

“Well?” Richert snapped.

With ill grace, Birn spat, “We
surrender, you two-faced old coot.”

Richert leaned back, his lips
curved in a satisfied smile. “Good. Open up a shuttle bay. I’ll arrive within
the hour to finalize the terms of surrender. And,” he finished testily, “I want
both Joshua and Anya present.”

The screen went black.

Anya crossed her arms and hugged
them to her middle. She felt sick to her very soul and trembled with fury.
Richert had behaved exactly true to form. Why was she so surprised, then? She
wasn’t sure what she had expected from him, but this complete stabbing in the
back was intolerable. After everything Joshua had done by killing Onred and defeating
the Altai regime, they had still lost Donetsk. Not to Onred, but to her equally
bloodthirsty uncle.

Without a word, she turned and
bolted from the room. She had to warn her siblings. What did Richert intend to
do with them all? He had said no more bloodshed was necessary, but why should
she trust him now? He had wanted to kill her father. Would Richert want to
exact his final revenge upon herself and her siblings—Jason’s offspring? She
had to prepare her family for the worst.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

With a start,
Anya discovered Joshua silently
matching her stride when she turned into the corridor leading to her family’s
new suite of rooms.

She dashed tears away. “I’ll
gather everyone together. We need to warn them.”

Joshua took her hand. “Look at me.”
He stopped, and so she did, too. That direct brown gaze steadied her, and his
warm hands enveloped hers. “It will do no good to frighten them,” he said
quietly. “Let them rest. When we know the terms of surrender, we’ll tell them
together.”

More tears formed. “You don’t
think Richert will…will
kill
them? Do you think he’ll kill us all?”

Joshua drew her closer. “No. I don’t.”

Her lips trembled. “But how do you
know? We’re a threat to his power. He’s hated our family for twenty-four years!”

“He hated your father and your
mother. Richert’s a ruthless old bastard, but he’s fair. I don’t think he’ll
condemn the children for the sins of their parents.”

Joshua seemed so certain. Could he
be right? But after Richert’s backstabbing power grab, how could she trust that
any decency lived in her uncle?

“I feel betrayed,” she admitted,
taking a deep breath. “I was foolish. I’d started to trust him…a little. I was
so stupid.” She bit her lip. “But now… I was so
wrong
about him. I feel
like I can’t trust my judgment anymore. I’m scared.”

“I’ll protect you. And I will
protect Marli, Elise, Damon, and David, too. Richert will not hurt you. I have
a plan. If we need to escape, we’ll go together.”

Her hands tightened around his. “Yes.”
She wanted to be with Joshua, always and forever. If that meant they had to
live in a freezing cave, or travel halfway around the world in order to be
safe, she would be happy, as long as she was with him.

His warm palms gently framed her
face and he kissed her. Anya’s heart bloomed with joy, and overflowed with
love. Fiercely, her arms went around his neck, and she buried her cheek in his
shoulder. “I love you so much, Joshua. Please don’t ever leave me.”

His arms closed around her, but he
didn’t answer. Fear arose again. She pulled back and searched his eyes. “What
aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ll bargain for your safety. But
I’m not sure what Richert will do with me.”

More fear welled. Slowly, she
said, “You mean you’re the real threat to him. Donetsk would follow you to the
grave, and Richert knows it.”

His features remained impassive. “You
will be safe,” he repeated. “I will make sure of it. I’m expendable. I’ve told
you that from the beginning.”

“You are not!”

Gently, he disentangled her arms. “I
need to make preparations before Richert arrives. I’ll see you in the Command Center.”

He turned on his heel and strode
down the hall. It reminded Anya of when he had ordered her to marry Onred, and
afterward he had walked away, leaving her alone. Now, at last, she understood
what a sacrifice that had been for him. Just as walking away from her now would
be a sacrifice, too. She also knew, if necessary, that he would offer his life
in exchange for hers. The knowledge made her feel sick and horrified.

One thing remained for sure. She
wouldn’t let that happen. She would never lose Joshua to Richert’s sly, bloody
machinations. Never.

*  *  *  *  *

Anya stood in the shadows of the
shuttle bay and watched Birn, Ray, and Joshua greet Richert as he rolled off
the shuttle in his wheelchair. It again struck her how frail her uncle looked.
His large frame hunched forward, and the black uniform, piped with maroon
edging, hung from his gaunt, bony shoulders. The baron’s skin and knobby
fingers looked as papery as ever, but he held his head erect, with fierce
pride. An unknown emotion glittered in those black eyes. Richert saw her, but
made no sign of acknowledgement. Neither did she to him.

Four burly guards accompanied the
territory baron, along with a young man she guessed to be his sixteen-year-old
son. The boy had black hair, like his father, was whipcord lean, and possessed
eyes as dark as midnight.

Birn led the way to the Command Center. Richert rolled along next with his men, and they were followed by Ray,
Joshua, and herself. Additional commanders awaited their arrival in the
conference room. They would be witnesses to the exchange of power.

Richert wheeled up to the long
edge of the conference table. Two of his men flanked him, and two stood behind
him, hands on their lasers. Anya sat across from him, with Ray to her right,
then Joshua, and then Birn at the head of the table. The other commanders sat
to Anya’s left.

Richert pointed to the far end of
the table, where the young man had taken a seat. “Dominic. My son,” was all he
said by way of introduction. His obsidian eyes gleamed at Anya.

Expression deliberately cool, she
broke eye contact and offered a small smile to her cousin. Dominic’s lips flickered
up in return.

What would it be like to be raised
by a bitter man like Richert? Anya felt pity for the boy.

 “Tablet,” Richert said curtly,
and one of the beefy men extracted a tablet from a black briefcase. When the
guard plugged it into the conference table, the computer screens imbedded in
the table glowed to life. The screen before Anya revealed the document in
Richert’s tablet. It was simply labeled, “Surrender Document.”

“Read it,” Richert ordered. “And
sign it. Every one of you.”

Anya read the brief document.
Basically, Donetsk Territory would surrender all territory, cities,
greenhouses, intelligence…everything…to Richert, effective immediately.
Signatures appeared on the screen as the commanders signed in real time. At the
very bottom of the page, Richert signed with flourish. Slowly, Anya picked up
her stylus. When Joshua’s bold signature appeared, she signed below it. Birn’s
was a dark, angry scrawl.