Royal Recruit: OtherWorldly Men #2 Read online

She screamed as he goosed the gas. The pickup soared over the first ridge and with a jolt came to an abrupt stop with the bumper digging into the mud. His hand flew out automatically to keep Evie from hurtling forward, though her seat belt had locked.

  “Sorry about that.” He hoped he hadn’t bent the front end. “You okay?”

  But Evie didn’t answer. He followed her gaze to where something large and heavy had dug a long scar in the ground. It went on straight as an arrow for about a half mile.

  “The REEF’s spaceship,” she said, frowning.

  The family had agreed to store the wreckage of the dead assassin’s spaceship on the property. Unpowered, its cloaking inoperative, it was covered with a tarp. Unlike Cavin’s ship, it was in bad shape.

  He put the pickup in reverse. The tires spun in the mud. He killed the engine before he dug in any deeper. “I don’t effing believe this. We’re stuck.”

  He got out and took a look at the rear tires. “I’ll need a pull.” There was another four-wheel drive parked in the garage back at the house. He was about to call when he saw the time. “It’s not even seven. Everyone’s sleeping.” Having just returned from Washington and meetings with the president and her cabinet, Jana and Cavin deserved to sleep in. They deserved as much private time as possible. Cavin was the first man Jana had chosen that Jared trusted to make his sister happy.

  “We’ve got a little time to kill.” Jared sent a longing glance to the tarp-covered hump. “Come on. Let’s take a closer look.”

  “Jared, no. The alien stuff scares me.”

  “Aw, come on. Aren’t you curious? I haven’t been inside it yet.” It reminded him of the times he and Evie had gotten in trouble as kids. They’d always been going where they weren’t supposed to, giving and taking dares, playing with gusto. Jana was the quiet, serious one. Except for the summer spent sneaking off to be with Cavin, she’d always behaved.

  Jared started walking along the furrow. Evie followed. There was a bounce in her step now. Her hesitance to view the spaceship was crumbling. “Didn’t Cavin say something about staying away?”

  “That was when the REEF was alive. The risk’s gone now. In the interest of national security, I say it’s our duty to do a welfare check.”

  “Trespass, you mean. I like the sound of that. I’ll tell you what, Jared. The REEF broke into my house, went through my things and scared my dog. I’d be happy to return the favor. This is the next best thing. Let’s go see his ship.”

  While hunting for Cavin, the REEF had sneaked into Evie’s house looking for evidence. Evie’s house was holy ground—you didn’t mess with it, you didn’t criticize it and you definitely didn’t invade it. The killer was probably lucky to be dead. If Evie got her hands on him, it wouldn’t be pretty. Especially after learning her psychotic, girlie dog, Sadie, had been completely traumatized by the incident. Even staying at the ranch, surrounded by familiar people, the Chihuahua continued to tremble and growl at nothing. Well, tremble and growl more than usual.

  They pulled off the tarp, revealing a gorgeous, black, triangular ship. His pulse kicked into overdrive with a spurt of adrenaline. “Say hello to the Prince, baby.”

  “Say hello to the who?”

  “The Prince.”

  His sister gave him a pitying look.

  It was his call sign. Every fighter pilot had one. It was part of the tradition. No one in the squadron called anyone by their first name. He’d hated “the Prince” at first. He’d won the name because of his privileged upbringing, his family’s celebrity. But over time, he’d made the name synonymous with shit-hot flying and unwavering professionalism. Now he wore it proudly.

  “Okay, Prince. How do we get inside?”

  “I have to find the hatch.” He ran his hands over the cool, smooth hull. Cavin had taught him how to get inside his ship. He assumed the same technique would work for this one. The fuselage was rippled here, dented there, but not as damaged as he’d expected. He found one of the wings and climbed onto the surface.

  “Careful, Jared.”

  “Don’t lose your nerve, girl. This was your idea.”

  “My idea? All I wanted to see were poppies.”

  Jared found the seam of the hatch just where he expected it to be, and the release. It opened smoothly. He swung his legs over the edge and dropped down.

  The cockpit was snug and dark with room for only one person. But the craft had enough bells and whistles to make his little fighter-pilot heart roll over. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, more of the details became visible. Unfamiliar symbols labeled the smooth panels. An alien language.

  God, you’re beautiful. “Your prince is here, baby,” he said. “Say you’re mine.” He slid into the seat. It made a whirring noise and molded to his ass.

  He jumped. “What the fuck?”

  “Jared!” Evie cried out from the open hatch.

  “It’s okay. The seat moved. I didn’t expect it.” He was damn embarrassed to notice that his pulse had doubled. Enthralled, he took hold of the control stick as the ship continued to come alive. Lights came on, slowly. One by one, the panels of instrumentation powered up. In front of him, a large, rectangular screen with rounded edges glowed smoky-gray. In a blink of an eye, it became transparent and he was looking outside at the fields. “This is how they see where they’re going,” he explained. “It’s not a windshield the way we know windshields.”

  They watched in wonder as the ship’s systems unfurled. Last month, he’d told Cavin he’d give his right testicle for a chance at taking his ship up for a spin, to leave the stratosphere at Mach twenty…to view the curve of the Earth…to experience weightlessness for longer than the top side of a reverse loop. But to take this beauty for a ride? Hell, other body parts were definitely negotiable.

  He pressed his hand into a shallow, similarly shaped indentation. Suddenly, all went still. A silky female voice murmured something in a language he didn’t understand.

  “What did she say?”

  “I don’t know. It’s the ship’s AI—its computer, I think. Probably waiting for voice recognition.” A light blinked where he rested his hand. It was too irresistible to ignore. He tapped his finger against the light and the screen turned white.

  “Jared, what’s happening?”

  “I’m not sure.” The forward screen was milky bright and rippled like smoke. A part of him wanted to beat feet out of the ship, but curiosity kept him rooted in place. “The light…it’s so beautiful,” he joked. “Come to the light…”

  “Not funny. Come out, Jared. Please. Call Cavin.”

  “Evie, check this out.” The milky screen slowly cleared. It revealed a large room sumptuously decorated in warm, cozy colors. Soft, comfortable-looking furniture blended with what was obviously tech beyond anything they had on Earth: a small, round sphere resembling a volleyball floating along near the floor; an entire wall glowing with rippling colors.

  A window into another world.

  Then voices from offscreen erupted, speaking in an alien tongue. His heartbeat kicked up a notch.

  “Uh-oh. Jared.”

  “Yeah. I hear them.”

  The closer and louder the voices got, the more Jared hoped to God the screen wasn’t two-way. If it was, they were screwed.

  Chapter Three

  In her gymnasium deep within the palace, Keira, Goddess-Queen of Sakka, swung her smart-sword at an imaginary opponent. Working through a series of choreographed moves designed to hone and strengthen the body and bring focus to the mind, her long, thick hair whipped around her shoulders with every slice of the heavy sword. To her left and right, massive columns soared to the ceiling, the space between them open to various chambers—a meeting room, her bathing hall, an entertainment alcove where she could take visitors and watch troubadours perform. She took little interest in the rest of the palace. This was her sanctuary and she’d had it decorated in every color opposite the reality outside the thick castle walls: a world of ice and towering glaciers; a land of white, ice-
blue and steely gray, where it snowed almost all year round.

  Sometimes she wished she could wall herself off from the rest of the palace in much the same way.

  The captain of the Palace Guard, the hulking eunuch Tibor Frix, stepped through the door. She’d known him almost her entire life. Not once had she ever seen him look anything other than as he did now: immaculate in a flawless uniform and gleaming boots. He snapped his fist over his chest and dipped his head in a bow. “The visitors have arrived, Your Majesty.”

  “Send them in.” Gripping the heavy sword in two hands, Keira whirled on Prime Minister Rissallen and the individuals who had accompanied him, several unhappy-looking officers and ranking members of parliament. The usual cronies.

  Tibor Frix stepped out of the way, his hooded eyes ever watchful as the prime minister stepped forward, crossing his arm over his chest and bowing low.

  Keira took a moment to catch her breath. “Rise.”

  “I’m afraid I have disturbing news, Your Majesty.”

  “Do you really, Kellen?”

  Rissallen’s lips twitched. He hated when she called him by his given name. She held her sword up to the cold winter light filtering through the skylight and admired the sparkle of tourmaline. Then she sliced the weapon through the air. It made a humming noise as it arced in a half circle. Simultaneously, they took a step back. All except Prime-Admiral Zaafran, commander of the Coalition Space Force, who simply regarded her as if she were a useless figurehead.

  Wasn’t she? After all, these men came to her only under the most unusual circumstances—and never to ask her advice. They fed her the information as if worried they’d upset her, and had done so ever since she’d taken the throne as a child, thrust into the role after her entire family had died in a tragic accident.

  But even though they often kept her ignorant of their silly facts, she frightened them, and she liked that. As long as she inspired fear, she maintained her power over them. If they ever lost their fear of her…

  Don’t think of that. You’re strong, a warrior. Keira stabbed and parried an imaginary opponent, finishing with a vicious lunge at the Prime-Admiral’s heart.

  Zaafran didn’t even flinch. She moved forward until the pointed tip of the blade made a hissing sound as it pressed ever so lightly into the officer’s gaudy, beribboned uniform. Pinned over his heart were medals and commendations that he’d probably earned but, regardless, his lack of fear irritated her.

  Her mouth tipped in a smirk as she withdrew the blade and noticed the fleck of charred fabric around the tiny tear. That is for thinking you are better than me, you arrogant bastard. But she said coquettishly, “Oh! I must be more careful. You’ll be visiting your tailor later, won’t you?” She dusted a hand over the officer’s broad chest. “I’m sure it can be repaired.”

  Dark brows lowered over angry eyes but Zaafran knew better than to stare her down. A second later he let out an almost silent exhalation and turned his eyes to the floor. Good boy.

  “Taye!” Keira snapped her fingers to summon her favorite attendant. The slender, baby-faced eunuch took the sword and replaced it with a scented towel, which she used to blot perspiration from her face. It had been a brutal workout. Her skin gleamed, her muscles trembled. She’d worked her body to the limit, and goddess, it felt good. She wanted nothing less than total control over her body, and so she pushed it, sculpting it, emulating the warrior priestesses of the distant past. A time when having goddess blood meant something more than being kept in a cage until it came time to produce little princes and princesses.

  An heir factory—that was what she was to them. A breeder. All because she was the last of her line, a line of goddesses, and they wanted more. If it wasn’t a sin, the Coalition would have cloned the holy Sakkaran bloodlines by now to be done with her. Her pedigree was probably the only reason she was still alive. As the last surviving member of her family, the Coalition needed her—needed her because her ancestors were worshipped by trillions of religious citizens and no one wanted to risk taking that away and destabilizing the Coalition, especially when the murderous Drakken Empire was breathing down their necks.

  But that was what the military was for. It was their job to play war games with ships and guns, not hers.

  Keira tossed the towel over her shoulder. Taye rushed to retrieve it. The men followed her through an arched doorway to an expansive polished-crystal table. Sheets of gold trapped inside the crystal reminded her of autumn leaves kicked up in the wind. Fall was a short season on this world, like every other season that wasn’t winter. In fact, she’d missed autumn completely this year. First there had been summer, almost too fleeting to be considered a season, then autumn had sped by before she’d next had a chance to step outdoors.

  Now it was too frigid to venture past the palace doors. The cold of this world had long ago seeped into her heart. Maybe it was why she cared less and less about venturing outside. Or perhaps having to be accompanied everywhere by Tibor Frix and his merry band of eunuch guards had taken the enjoyment out of it. They were present at all times, except when she had to relieve herself, and only then because she’d protested.

  She was the last of her line. What did she expect?

  I am alone.

  Her chair floated away from the table and folded around her comfortably when she sat in it. The officials waited until she was seated before they did so. “Sit, gentlemen, please.”

  She threw a longing glance at the door to her private chambers. Steam floated out of the room as the attendants prepared her post-workout bath. She should be soaking in cloud-bell scented water, not putting up with these insufferable men who wanted to talk about the most boring subjects imaginable.

  “Your Majesty, the news we bring you today is troubling,” Rissallen said. “There is a new and serious threat to the Coalition. I have confirmed reports of an encounter between a planetary acquisition force and a rogue planet at the edge of civilized space. The world is known as Earth, and they appear to maintain a substantial battle fleet. We cannot as yet determine the types of vessels, nor their technological level, but we have teams working on it.”

  Tibor Frix interrupted. “Is the palace at risk?” The sharpness in his tone caught Keira’s attention. He rarely spoke up, but his eyes were focused like lasers on the prime minister.

  “It was a show of force only. They made no move to attack. We are still the larger power by far, but they are respectable in their own right. That we didn’t know about them before is the issue that disturbs me. Where do their loyalties lie? This we must determine.”

  “They’re nothing but a frontier world,” Keira exclaimed. “Country bumpkins. Yet you act as if they have the ability to swing the balance of power in the galaxy.”

  “They could.” The warning in the officer’s eyes made her shiver. “If they were to align themselves with the Drakken.”

  Keira went very still. She refused to admit to fear—she’d rather die than do so—but the mere thought of the warlord bringing his army to the palace gates stabbed fear deep into her heart. Not only would he want to conquer her Coalition worlds, he would want to conquer her. Or his son would. He was growing old, but his heir was nearing adulthood, she’d heard. It was said the teen would likely grow up to be worse than his sire.

  “No more talk of the Drakken Empire,” she commanded. “Earth will join us. You will find a way to make it so.”

  “I’ve called an emergency session of parliament,” said Rissallen. “Your Majesty, in light of this threat to our national security, it would reflect well if you attended.”

  He wanted her to go into that chamber? Keira fought a wave of dizziness. The thought of the cavernous room, the noise of many voices…Her head spinning in confusion, the grief choking her, the fear. She could not. It would be all too reminiscent of when she’d been summoned before a full session of parliament the day she’d learned of her family’s fate. She’d felt so small, so frightened. Helpless. She’d never again set foot in those chambers. r />
  She took a moment to push away that frightened girl, the girl she never again wanted to be. Then she tossed her hair and sniffed in disdain. “I have no patience for politics. Send me a summary.” Which she’d have Tibor summarize even further, while her attendants gave her a post-bath massage or painted her toenails. Every government communiqué was condensed by Tibor. He was invaluable. Without him she might actually have to pay attention to what was going on. “You are dismissed.”

  The visitors bowed low, mumbling the usual respects, and left.

  Only Tibor remained behind, silent, ever watchful. “What?” she demanded when he continued to ponder her. She couldn’t tell if there was censure in his scrutiny or pity. If he didn’t agree with her aversion to politics, so be it. She wasn’t going to change for anybody. She had her reasons for doing things, and they were private. She had no desire to share her inner thoughts with anyone, especially a man.

  She shoved away from the table and stood, sending the chair spinning. It collided with a display shelf and almost sent a priceless vase crashing to the ground. What did it matter? Everything was priceless around here. They’d find another trinket in the museums.

  Unlike people, objects could always be replaced.

  “Taye!” she yelled.

  The boyish eunuch scurried forward. “How may I serve, my queen?”

  “Bring me my daggers.”

  The eunuch returned with a set of ancient throwing knives. She snatched the box and stormed into her private chambers. The only way she could ease her anxiety about the rogue planet was to work with weaponry.

  A breath exited her tightened mouth as she hurled a dagger at a padded wall. She selected another. The knife went hissing through the air. It landed in the same spot as the first, shattering the ivory hilt. Another replaceable object, she thought, hefting the next dagger.

  Keira kept burying daggers in the wall until she’d exhausted her supply—and herself. Muscles trembling, she raised her arm to throw the last knife when the communication screen taking up half of an adjacent wall grabbed her attention.