Chapter 1
Four years ago
Explosions rocketed all around. Screams, shouts of pain rang out. Through her window, the barrage of firepower lit up the night with bright flashes of light. Could it be happening again?
The facility was under attack for the second time in a week.
“Targa!”
She jerked around at the sound of the voice calling out from her open door. One of the guards stopped in the hall to peer at her.
“What’s happening?” she asked, heart in her throat as she exited her room to join him.
“An attack! Dr. Kirkem’s missing. Probably at the cabin where he held the Argoran female. We have to go, Targa.” The explanation came out in a rush.
Another fierce boom rocked the one remaining building that hadn’t been destroyed when the labs burned to the ground. The soldier took off running again. Without further questions, she raced behind him down the hall as smoke filled the air. Her only thought was of escape. She didn’t care what happened to The Collector. He’d used her as a means to an end in his sick games.
The ground shook as the percussion blasts increased. She and the guard darted to the outside together. When he went left, she went right, knowing it was over. Everything they’d done here was over. There was no way The Collector would rebound from this.
Which meant Lothar would be upset.
Shivers cascaded down her spine and her lungs bellowed. Angering Lothar wasn’t something anyone tempted if they could avoid it. He made the actions of Dr. Kirkem, also known as The Collector, seem like child’s play.
In the distance, a shuttle waited. The design was Marenian. A familiar face, dark hair and brown horns furled at the side of his head came into her view. One of Lothar’s inner circle. He glared from the entrance as she approached at a fast clip. For a moment, she wondered if he’d block her access to the departing shuttle and leave her to the attackers.
“Hurry,” he snarled, shifting to the side of the doorway as she raced up the lowered ramp.
The tightness in her chest didn’t ease, but she quickened her steps and escaped into the interior. Gordo. His name was Gordo, she recalled. The door clanged shut behind her.
Gordo pounded his fist on the wall and yelled into the mic attached to the communication device on the black collar he wore around his throat. “Go! Go! Go!”
Slumping into an available seat, she gazed at the disappearing landscape out of the view screen. Other ships were taking off unhindered, the stragglers of the ground forces too concerned with shooting at one another. She’d gotten away in time. Relief left her gasping, sweat trickling over her brows.
There would be consequences for the failure here today. Consequences she would have to face. A violent tremble shook her frame.
Maybe luck would be on her side though experience made her doubt it. She’d escaped one nightmare only to soon fall into another. The shuttle had her racing toward what could potentially be the very death she’d barely managed to avoid moments ago.
Licking her lips to moisten them, she spoke in a firm tone to hide her fear. “Has Lothar been notified?”
Gordo grunted, displeasure creasing his rough features but he answered. “We are returning to Marenia directly, Mischka. What do you think?”
Her heart stuttered. Not because it was the first time anyone had used her real name in a long while but because she had been given one order when this all started. Break the Jutak warrior.
Instead, the Enotians must have sent their military to launch a counter-attack rescue. Just days ago, the soldier she’d been tasked with helping The Collector get information from had escaped. Now this new attack on the site, which was surely the end of whatever Lothar and The Collector had planned.
As if reading her mind, Gordo glanced in her direction and smirked. “Did you complete your mission here?”
Her stomach rumbled and tightened. Forcing down her nerves, she met his stare directly. Showing weakness was the easiest way to be cowed. As a female, she was already at a disadvantage. “The Jutak got away. We were unable to get him to disclose any details about his team or their military units.”
His grin took on a cruel twist. She turned her head away to stare at the rapidly shrinking ground. No matter. If this was her end, she’d face it bravely. That was her thought throughout the trip. Her thought through the landing procedures.
It was all she had to cling to as she followed the others and disembarked when they landed on her home world of Marenia.
The brief ride on hovercycles provided a distraction as the terrain was rocky and required concentration. All too soon it ended and she arrived at the massive structure where she’d resided since her parents sent her here a few years ago.
Gordo and the others headed toward the security wing, pushing the sleek black cycles to a cleared parking pad for vehicles under household use. She lined hers up next to them and powered it down.
“Guess by morning we’ll know how you fared,” Gordo said, forming a circle with three others.
A debilitating rush of dread settled in the pit of her stomach. Everyone was aware of the bodies disposed of on the property. Those were the lucky ones. The screams of the unfortunate lived in her nightmares. Now fate would decide which side she fell on.
Not bothering to give Gordo or his friends a reason to initiate a confrontation, she tucked her hair behind her horns and kept her steps brisk as she turned away.
The halls of the huge home Mischka entered were empty. An unusual occurrence if Lothar was in residence. Usually, there were dozens of Marenians lining the halls.
She considered escaping to the room she shared with two others who worked in the kitchen. There she could at least pretend a summons to his presence wasn’t expected. Too bad a large figure stepped into her path, halting her escape attempt.
Tall with streaming black hair and burnished horns, Nikol was slowly growing into a more significant threat than his father. No one wanted his attention on them, nor did they wish to risk drawing his ire. Retaliation from him was always swift to the unwary. As proof he was a fearless leader in his own right, Nikol was the only one who opposed his father publically and lived to talk about it.
“Lothar is expecting you, Mischka. Or should I say Targa?” His brown eyes glinted with an undefined emotion.
Terror made the hair at her nape stand on end. Her mission was to have been in confidence yet he knew. Another nervous rumble rolled through her mid-section. “Targa was only for the assignment.”
He eyed her from her disheveled hair to her smoke-stained clothing. His broad nose curled, the distaste easy to read. “I’m assuming sexual coercion didn’t work on the Jutak warrior. Is there a line you wouldn’t cross for Lothar?”
Mischka’s face burned. His statement regarding the intimacies she’d forced from the Enotian soldier was too close. Too accurate. He had to have had a spy watching them.
He tsked under his breath at her lack of a response. “Better hurry. Your master awaits.”
Mischka jerked and moved closer to the wall in order to pass by without touching him. No way she was going to touch on him referring to Lothar as her master though it was the truth. She allowed her gaze to narrow the slightest bit but used her most respectful tone. Stupidity would get her nowhere. “I will head to the kitse now.”
Bile swirled in the back of her throat at the very idea of having to be in that space again.