“No clue,” Rico said. “The fleet lost contact after a few years.”
Damn. He would have liked to know what had become of the planet. And he would really like to know whether a few old acquaintances were really gone for good. Milo had spent most of his life hunting down his father, seeking for a way to destroy him. Not really revenge—whatever Rico said—more a service to the rest of the world. His father was pure evil. But even if the Earth hadn’t been destroyed, his father was beyond his reach now. Five hundred years and God knows how many millions of miles beyond his reach.
He blew out his breath. It wouldn’t surprise him to discover that Rico had brought him along on this trip for that precise purpose. Rico had long claimed that Milo’s obsession with his father was unhealthy, and that if you made your life about revenge, even if you succeeded, you would be left with nothing. And in some ways, he was right. The search had consumed Milo. So what the hell was he supposed to do now?
“Did all the ships make it?” he asked.
“Not all, no.”
The plan had been for twenty-four ships to leave the Earth. Each carrying ten thousand Chosen Ones. People selected through a lottery process to ensure the survival of humanity. Except the lottery hadn’t been open to everyone—Milo had certainly not received a ticket. So Rico had decided that wasn’t really fair and arranged to exchange half the Chosen Ones on the Trakis Two for people…or whatever…of his own choosing. Milo didn’t know the details, but he suspected it hadn’t gone well for the Chosen Ones involved.
A small, slender woman with black hair and green eyes entered the bridge, followed closely by a tall guy with blond hair and strange, almost purple eyes.
Rico waved a hand toward them. “Katia you know, and this is her friend, Sergeant Logan Farrell of the New World Army.”
He nodded to Katia as she took a seat next to Rico and her friend took the chair on the other side of her. Katia was a werecat who’d worked for Rico a while back. Milo liked her as much as he liked anyone. Her “friend” appeared to be a fairly new werewolf. A strange combination, though they were obviously a couple. There was a sense of closeness to them.
“There’s a New World Army?” he asked.
Katia grabbed a couple of glasses from under the table and poured herself and Logan a drink. “There was,” she said. “Logan here is the sole surviving member. The rest were on the Trakis One when she dived headfirst into a black hole.”
Wow.
He’d missed a lot.
The Trakis One had carried Max Beauchamp, the President of the Federation of Nations. Max was supposed to be in charge when they got to the new world. He was no loss—a total asshole. “The Trakis One is really gone?”
“Well, there’s no coming back from a black hole,” Katia said, then downed her drink.
He’d never seen a black hole, but he wouldn’t have minded seeing Max Beauchamp sucked into one. His lips twitched.
“I think you’re being a little insensitive here,” Rico said. “A lot of people died.”
A lot of people he didn’t know. Why should he care? Hell, he wouldn’t care if most of the people he did know were sucked into a black hole. So why worry about a load of people he’d never met and now never would?
“What is he?” Logan Farrell whispered the question to Katia, but Milo caught the words and realized Logan was asking what he was.
“Can’t you guess?” Rico asked.
Logan shook his head. “Nope. Not a clue.”
“Think magic,” Rico said.
Logan frowned. “A wizard?”
“Close, but no. He’s actually a warlock.”
“There’s a difference?”
Rico leaned across the table and topped off Milo’s glass, which he’d emptied again. “You want to fill him in?”
“No.”
“Why is that no surprise?” Rico snorted. “A wizard is a male witch. They’re mainly human but get a few powers from making dodgy deals with dodgy people. A warlock, like our friend Milo here, is the offspring of a witch and a demon. Their magic mainly comes from demonic powers.” He smirked. “They’re usually unfriendly bastards with chips on their shoulders, and Milo is no exception. He doesn’t play well with others—except unfortunately, this time he doesn’t have much of a choice. Because he owes me.”
The words oozed self-satisfaction, and Milo gritted his teeth.
The truth was, once, a long, long time ago, Rico might have saved his life. And he was never