up, his plea raw. “Whatever it is, I will do it. Tell me.” She was all that mattered.
Tibor answered with a curt nod. His face was tight with pain. “Get him the proper clothing,” he ordered the eunuchs then gripped Jared by the shoulders, his big hands shaking. “You must go alone. No one will notice you’re missing because they think you’re dead. I’ve a vessel programmed for the rendezvous point. It will take you directly there. You’ll be allowed through the perimeter, and allowed to dock with the flagship.”
“How?”
“To the Drakken, you will seem like one of their own. I know…at one time I was one of their own.”
“You’re Drakken?”
“Born and raised. They don’t know I’ve turned.” He returned Jared’s steady gaze. “We’ll also have help from the other side. We would not be able to complete the mission without them, and we still may not.” He glanced away. “I can tell you no more.”
The eunuchs returned with red Imperial Fleet uniforms, body armor, and boots. Jared threw off his clothes to change. “Keira said you were with her since her parents died. She said you were like a father to her.”
Tibor winced—in pain or with emotion. “When the princess survived the massacre of the royal family, I was installed in the palace during the reign of confusion afterward. I was to be both her guard and her assassin.”
“Jesus,” Jared whispered. Tibor had been handpicked to murder a little girl. What kind of man had Tibor been back then for the warlord to choose him for such a sickening job? Jared tried instead to focus on the man Frix was now, apparently risking his life many times over to keep Keira safe and alive.
“But she had such pluck. Such spirit. She fought everyone off, including me. I grew attached to her. I grew to love her like a daughter. As time passed, I changed from her prison guard to her true protector. And from true protector, I became a true believer.” He pinched his thumb and index finger together and moved them in a circle over his chest—a gesture believers often used to express their faith. “It was I who convinced the warlord of the benefits of marrying Keira to his son. I figured it would keep her alive, and buy me more time to make arrangements for her sanctuary. And now I have failed.”
Jared threw a eunuch’s robes over the Drakken uniform to disguise it. “No, we haven’t. We haven’t failed. We will see Her Majesty safe. I will see my wife safe.”
He refused to consider failure. It wasn’t an option. Keira’s world was all that mattered now. And getting her back in his.
Chapter Twenty-One
As she drifted in and out of consciousness, Keira lost count of the number of wormhole jumps the small ship made. Each passage was worse than the next, and she feared for the structural integrity of the vessel.
By the time they reached their destination, she felt storm-tossed and space-sick but infinitely more alert. The drugs in her system had run their course and neither one of the traitorous pilots had thought to give her more.
An enormous Drakken warship loomed outside her window. The thump of docking punctuated the end of the journey.
The heavy thuds of booted soldiers’ feet thundered toward her. Keira was pulled from the craft and shoved ahead of them.
The ship stank of sweat and another curious, unpleasant odor she didn’t recognize. A barracks would smell this way, she thought. The red-uniformed soldiers marched her ahead of them to the bridge.
They approached two men sitting on ornate chairs—thrones—and stopped. The younger one sprawled insolently, a leg hooked over the armrest. He leaned his elbow on the other armrest, supporting his cheek with one finger. He looked like his sire—golden skin, dark eyes and braided hair—but Keira doubted if he was even shaving yet. He’d barely begun to develop his manly form. He’s only a boy.
“She needs a bath,” he said. “I can smell her stink from here.”
The older man barked out a laugh and slapped his hands on armored thighs. “It’s her musk. She’s hot for you, boy.”
Rakkuu and his spawn. The warlord and his issue. Keira’s nostrils flared. They mustn’t see her fear, they mustn’t. You are strong. A warrior.
They guffawed like drunken soldiers after a victory, laughing at her and categorizing her faults. “Take off your clothes,” the boy bellowed. “I want to see what I’m going to fuck all night. Go on, show me your body, Goddess.”
“You wouldn’t know