Royal Recruit - Susan Grant Page 0,67
her. “It wasn’t an accident. It was a massacre. Jared, my family was assassinated.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jared’s life had turned into a speeding freight train with no place to jump off. He was on for the duration and he had the feeling it was going to be one hell of a ride.
“Tragic accident” was the excuse du jour around here, but something wasn’t adding up. “In the Agran Sakkara, it says anyone who kills a goddess is cursed for all eternity. Rissallen and the others may be bastards, but your people are extremely pious. Why would they do something with such hefty consequences?”
“We’re religious, yes. The Drakken aren’t.”
The Drakken…
The freight train had just jumped the track.
Keira whipped her hair over her shoulder as she paced away, her fists clenching. Jared would bet his bottom dollar that if she were in her gym, she’d be throwing daggers. “Generations of warlords have seen to the mass slaughter of believers,” she said tightly. “They fear the power of the goddesses. The reigning warlord is the worst. He demands his people worship him. He thinks himself a god, but he’s a monster. What if he’s installed allies in the palace? Enemy agents. Spies.” She shook. “What if the Drakken are operating from inside the palace to destabilize the Coalition? Every aspect of our security has been compromised. Anyone who insists otherwise is now suspect in my opinion.”
“Like Rissallen,” Jared murmured.
“Yes, and Vemekk.”
“What stopped them from killing you years ago, though? When you were small. Why go through all this trouble to keep you alive, isolating you, knocking off your suitors and maybe even too-curious intelligence officers? Why not destroy the goddess bloodline once and for all?”
She spun back to him, her eyes ablaze. “The warlord has a son.”
“And…” He tried hard to follow along. Palace intrigue wasn’t his thing.
“The might of Sakkaran blood in its purest form is passed from firstborn daughter to firstborn daughter and so on, through direct female descendants of the original goddesses. There is only one, true matriarchal line. The priestesses have kept records from the beginning of time. Modern genetics supports these records—it can prove or discredit any claim of holy blood. Sakkaran lineage means unchallenged influence over trillions of worshippers. Generations of warlords have tried to exterminate us in hopes of being worshipped in our place. They’ve committed genocide, murdering priestesses and billions of believers. But what if the Drakken have changed plans? What if instead of getting rid of my family, they unite our lines—their warlord’s and ours? The power of the goddesses combined with the warlord’s dynasty of fear? I don’t know why I never saw it before. Oh, Jared—the Empire has battled us for years, but victory has eluded them. This is why. They don’t have Sakkaran blood.” She drummed her fingers against her chest. “They don’t have me.”
Jared dragged a hand over his face. And here he’d thought California politics was convoluted. “If the warlord’s plan is to marry you to his son, why hasn’t he tried already?” Tried to kidnap Keira. “You’re of age. You’ve been of age for years.”
“His son hasn’t been. He’s only now reached his teens. They had to wait until he was old enough to impregnate me with his seed. It is forbidden to create Sakkaran babies in a lab. The offspring will be forever cursed. My eggs must be fertilized inside my body. It’s why they don’t want me mated to anyone else. Only him.”
The idea of Keira with another man, raped and forced to bear the child, made his blood boil.
“I think they’re going to make a move—and soon.” Fear tightened her mouth.
Jared gripped her upper arms. “They’ll have to get past me first, sweetheart.”
“They almost did,” she whispered.
Sudden pounding at the door startled them. Jared hefted a piece of wood. It was their only weapon. He wasn’t armed—stupid. He’d never make that mistake again.
The door flew open and Coalition Marines piled in, followed by Supreme-Second Fair Cirrus. Snow swirled over the floor. “Thank the goddess,” the officer muttered. He turned and called over his shoulder, “Her Majesty is alive!” In the distance she heard the muffled shouts of soldiers.
Fair Cirrus dipped his head, slamming a fisted arm across his heart. “We have come to bring you home, my queen.”
“Who told you we were here?” Keira asked.
“Your guard, Tibor Frix, reported you missing.”
Of course. Jared frowned. Tibor knew Keira didn’t know important skills like driving and that without Jared, she’d be in need of rescue. How would the conspirators