Dio’s face fell and his eyes widened. “Uhm, that’s not common knowledge. I thought you were…”
She held up her hand, cutting him off. “No worries.” She touched the band around her neck and gave him a comforting look. “Besides, I’ve got more important issues at the moment than turning in renegade unnockis—vacationers.”
The panic left Dio’s face. “I guess you do. Sorry about that, but neither of us ever wants to end back up in hell.”
His gaze darkened and she noted his incisors lengthened as if the mention of hell put him on guard. Shia straightened, watching his every move. Adult male Sirians were known to be able to rip a person to pieces with those teeth, and in some cases they even produced claws during a fight to aid in their shredding abilities. She took a breath and did something that went against her training. She stood on the opposite side of the island counter and reached for his hand. At least with the counter between them, she might have a chance if he decided to attack.
“Tell me about it, Dio. What was it like in hell?” Shia tried to sound as if she cared.
In order to win him over to her side, she hoped it wouldn’t take too much of this sappy-type of conversation. She knew hell was a standard Kiengir design set deep in the planet’s core. There was only one other high-security prison planet, Mars, and it was escape proof. Mainly because no one lived once they reached its surface. The Kiengir saw to that when they turned it to dust and stripped it of its atmosphere. The Martians must have truly pissed off the Kiengir because their whole world was eliminated with one stroke of a Kiengirs’ hand. Yet another example of a Kiengirs’ strength.
“It’s the worst place I’ve ever been. It’s nothing but a massive collection of caves and tunnels that intertwine throughout the core.” He visibly shivered and she read the fear and detestation in his eyes. “There’s no safe haven unless you have someone like Kal at your side. Without him, I would’ve been someone’s meal. That’s a fact I don’t doubt. The beings down there are like wild animals, hunting for food and protecting whatever area they’ve claimed.”
Dio breathed deeply as if quelling his nerves. It seemed as if talking helped calm him so she didn’t interrupt as she gathered the items she needed to cook.
“The Adamu think it’s a solid mass of extremely hot metal, but it’s not.” He shook his head. “That’s what I believed until I was encapsulated in a port-o-pod, and shot into hell via a direct-connect chute at the band of holes in Peru. Hell, the name fits. I didn’t think I’d end up in a prison.”
“What’d you think happened to violent criminals?”
“I didn’t think.” He shrugged. His tone tinged with anger. “Besides, I committed no violent crime. No one got hurt or killed. I simply lifted a ring and bam, no trial, no nothing, just straight to hell.”
Shia couldn’t believe what she heard. That wasn’t the normal. Then again, the intel she read listed him as a thief, who usually didn’t land in prison. Their sort were attached to a work detail, rehabilitated, given a job, then released. This process worked most of the time. On occasion, there were the multiple offenders who just couldn’t resist stealing. In her opinion, that category of thieves had a sickness running through their veins. Was Dio on his way to being one of those? A lifetime thief? He had lifted her weapons without so much as her feeling them leave her battle suit.
“Whose ring did you steal and why?” And that’s where she seemed to have crossed a line with him. Dio straightened in his chair and leveled a hate-filled stare directly at her.
“That’s none of your business.” He automatically returned to flipping through the channels.
Shia backed off and busied herself with preparing the food. Apparently, she’d touched on a sore subject. The moment the steaks hit the grill pan, she had his attention again. His nostrils flared and she believed she even saw a hint of drool at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t kidding about being hungry.
“Could you make it rare?” His voice sounded small and the look in his eyes was one of pure hunger as he stared directly at the pan. “Please.”
“I thought the Kiengir jettisoned food and supplies into the prison on a monthly basis.”
He snorted. “They do. But if you’re not in the right spot at the right time, you get nothing. It’s first come, first served, screw everybody else.”
That’s not the way she understood it. According to the intel she’d read, every prisoner received food, water and clothing—enough to last for a month if rationed correctly. She placed the rare steak on a plate, turned and set it in front of him. He couldn’t cut it up fast enough. Shia touched his wrist, stilling his frantic motions. When he looked at her, she saw the desperate hunger that riddled his soul and it speared her ice-cold heart. If Dio spoke the truth—and from the look in his eyes and his actions she believed he did—then something was terribly wrong with the prison system.
“You don’t have to eat it fast. No one is going to take it from you. And if you’re still hungry when you’re done, I’ll cook you another one.”
He nodded and appeared humbled by her words. “Thank you.”
The moment she released his wrist, he dove back into eating, but at a much less frantic pace. Shia poured him a large glass of milk and set it beside his plate. He simply smiled and kept eating. She removed the bowl of soup she’d placed in the microwave to heat. She put it, a spoon and a glass of ice water on a tray.
“I’m taking this to your partner.” She nodded toward the fridge. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like.”
Shia lifted the tray and headed toward the bedroom. Dio’s insight into the prison made her ill-at-ease. She knew it ran without any formal guidance in the actual core. Prisoners were shot into the prison maze via chutes created eons ago. Each chute was calibrated for a different star or planet. When they had a prisoner to send, they locked them in a port-o-pod and sent him on a direct route to hell. Their port-o-pods dissolved upon entrance into their assigned cell. But according to Dio, there were no cells, just caves and mazes. How could that be? Prisoners roamed about, preying on one another and the food packets were not being properly dispensed. First come, first served? This was something she intended to bring up to the High Guard.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her reflection in the mirror as she passed the open bathroom door in the hall. The black band stood out against her pale skin as if it were a bright red sunburn. First she had to get out of the mess she was in. And that meant getting control of the baton.
Shia entered the bedroom and stilled. The big man had somehow managed to remove his dirty jumpsuit without any help. It lay crumpled in a pile beside the bed. Every inch of his massive chest bulged with muscle. The man had biceps the size of her thighs and his abs had abs. He was ripped more than anyone she’d ever seen. Heavy-eyed, he sat partially upright, leaning against the headboard. She’d expected to find him out cold. Guess she should’ve used two vials of Panacea.
The closer she got, she noted he didn’t move nor did he speak. Shia set the tray on the nightstand. Leaning, she stared directly into his semi-opened eyes. A low snore met her ears and she couldn’t help but smile. The big man was asleep with his eyes open. Probably, a tactic he used to make other criminals believe he was awake so they’d leave him alone or at least think twice before attacking.
In as gentle a move as possible, she searched for the baton. Neither hand held it. Using the lightest of touches, she patted down the blankets around him.
“Looking for this.” Dio’s voice stalled her actions. Shia did a slow turn and met his humor-filled gaze. In his hand, he held the baton, waving it at her. Damn. “Kal knew you drugged him so he gave it me for safe keeping.”
How the hell did he know? She returned her stare to the big man. Anger percolated in her gut. This guy was unbelievable. Without looking at Dio, she asked, “Can you help me roll him? That dart entry hole needs to be attended.”
“Sure.” He tucked the baton into the cargo pocket on his right thigh and z
ipped it closed. Once he was in position on the opposite side of the bed from her, he tugged while she pushed Kal onto his stomach.
Shia’s eyes widened. The breath stalled in her lungs and it took a tremendous effort to hide her shock from Dio. On Kal’s left shoulder were a series of twenty-one sun tattoos. No one in the history of Paoni warriors ever accomplished such a feat. With one exception. Shia stared at the face of the sleeping man. There was no way in hell.
He just couldn’t be Kallikrates Valerianus. Not possible.
Chapter Four
Shia sat on the couch and lifted her VIS tablet, searching for a certain report she remembered reading as part of Paoni history. Twenty-one sun tattoos and his name was Kal. Had to be short for Kallikrates. She glanced toward the open door of her bedroom. A legend lay sleeping in her bed. But how? He had escaped from hell when he was supposed to have been dead.
He’d been killed during a battle to unify the star planets in the constellation Draco.
Space battles were something the humans didn’t know existed. It was the Kiengirs’ wishes that the Adamu were kept in the dark about all the other worlds around them for fear they’d panic and declare war on the other life forms. Not that they could do anything about it. They lacked the proper weapons or ability for space travel. Centuries ago, they had proven they were too young of a race to handle the powerful technology the Kiengir shared, so it had been taken from them and its existence wiped from their memories. Dribs and drabs of it were slowly being filtered back onto Earth in the form of heavy equipment, computers, cell phones, airplanes and the space shuttle, along with hundreds of other devices. She grinned. The space shuttle was limited. The Kiengir gave its engineers a minute amount of knowledge just to see what they’d do with it.
She shook her head. Humans weren’t stupid. Most of them suspected life existed outside their realm. In her opinion, it was time they were exposed to it and learned to accept it. If they knew that almost every star in a constellation was a portal to a life-sustaining planet, they’d probably faint. Not to mention, every planet in their solar system had a purpose and unique ecosystems complete with life forms similar to humans but different. Just because they couldn’t see them didn’t mean they weren’t there. She paused. Maybe it was those physical differences that made the Kiengir keep them separated from Earth. Some of them had been bred to be soldiers, powerful, extraordinarily built with incredible strength. Was it possible he was one of those?
Her anger brewed thinking about the Kiengirs’ need to create the perfect being. Earth was the youngest of all their Petri dishes of experimentation. Every planet, every life form was a science experiment. They formed universes, manipulated the beings of those worlds until they got the result they wanted or they destroyed it. She bit her lip, struggling not to let her thoughts take that dangerous route. She had no proof they had been behind the destruction of her home when she was a small child.
Shia blinked, focusing on the report that finally flashed on the screen.
Kallikrates Valerianus
Paoni Warrior
Rank: Sun Superior
Unique Holder of Kiengir Highest Honor
Event Log as documented by Sun Star Lieutenant, Lanyard Delrado
Captain Delrado had been there? She read the sentence again. She hadn’t misread it. Gangust Delrado’s dad had witnessed the death of the Paoni’s toughest warrior. That had to be one hell of a competition between those two. The captain was highly competitive, believed in the win at any cost, and had pushed Gangust to be the best in his class though he had failed, beaten by a woman. She sat back, letting go a low whistle. Considering Captain Delrado wasn’t pleased his son was second to her, she bet it killed him that Kallikrates Valerianus had been better than he during his younger days. No wonder he never said anything about this. She read on.
Grumiums had invaded the capital of the Draco constellation, Nodus Secundus. Sun Superior Valerianus and his team had been the closest to that vector and had landed before the fleet had reached them. His second officer had been wounded minutes into the fighting. Valerianus single-handedly had fought a gang of Grumium dragons before being shot in the back. The report stated he had suffered a close range, direct hit between the shoulders from a large caliber weapon. Her shoulders bunched thinking of the pain that would’ve caused. Since he had to have been wearing his battle suit, it wouldn’t have killed him but rendered him immobile, quite possibly unconscious and may have produced internal damage. But it wouldn’t have killed him. The suit would have helped sustain him until medical attention arrived.
Several Grumiums had shifted and set him on fire. Shia winced. She couldn’t even imagine being trapped in that sort of inferno. His battle suit would’ve protected him to an extent but if the gang had combined their efforts, breathing fire at extreme temperatures, eventually the neuro-sensors would’ve short-circuited, shut down and the material would’ve bonded to his flesh. The draconian breed was known to be dirty fighters. They had the ability to shift into dragon form when needed. If they weren’t contained before they shifted, they could rip a person to shreds with their claws and spiked tails and could spew fire from their mouths for over fifty feet. She’d never had the misfortune of dealing with any of them. According to the witness, Valerianus had been burned beyond recognition to the point of total cremation.
Sun Superior Valerianus had earned twenty-one suns for a multitude of victories at war as the Kiengir worked to unite the universe. Kallikrates Valerianus had been their highest-decorated warrior. His fighting skills and strength unmatched. His military tactics were taught at Paoni Cadet Academy. He’d been hailed as a hero for saving his second officer at the cost of his life. Thinking about it gave her a bad taste in her mouth. His military portfolio was one to respect, to study and try to mimic.
But his death…
Knowing he hadn’t died made her mull over his last mission. Something in that report seemed wrong to her but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Absently, she flipped on the television but kept the volume low since Dio slept curled in a ball on the opposite end of the couch.
The news showed a newly formed lava pit. The molten liquid wasn’t spilling over the edges, instead it bubbled and spit globs of burning goo into the air for hundreds of feet. The area had been cordoned off as geologists arrived to inspect and test for stability. Shia pursed her brows as she stared at a bright shape hovering high in the sky above the reporter’s left shoulder. Humans wouldn’t think it to be anything other than a bright star. It was meant for her to see.
Gangust Delrado’s vimani—personal transport, which can morph into whatever mode to suit the Paoni’s needs, air, ground or water. Her jaw tightened, knowing he’d intentionally not completely sealed the hole to jeopardize her position. It was their job to hide these events from the Adamu. With each seismic surge, Hellions tried to ride it to the surface. Those who actually reached the top created rifts in the crust, which could let lava escape in their wake. Paoni captured the escapees and sealed the cracks before they became an issue. Since the capture hadn’t gone as planned, she didn’t finish the job. Her backup apparently chose to contain it so it didn’t spread but not conceal the event entirely. This wasn’t good. She knew he hated her, but to let this happen was going too far.
A low moan had her on her feet and at the bedside within seconds. He’d rolled onto his back. Arms sprawled wide open. Chest bared. One leg stuck out from under the covers and the sheet lay dangerously low across his hips. An inch lower and she’d have full view of his man parts. Temptation to peek made her wet. Shia fought the urge, gripped the cover and tugged it up to mid-abdomen. His jet-black hair was loose and spread in a tangled mess on the pillow. She got a cool damp cloth from the bathroom and gently swiped the perspiration from his forehead and upper lip.
Faster than she blinked, he caught her wrist and pulled her onto the bed, wrapping himself around her before she could move. She lay on her side trapped in a cocoon of his arms and a heavy leg draped across h
er hip. Shia wiggled but couldn’t pry free. A warm hand palmed one of her breasts and she froze. Her robe had slipped open and left her exposed. It had also become bunched around her hips but with her arms trapped, she couldn’t pull it down to cover her bottom. A thick thumb brushed her nipple and she gasped. His biceps held her arm pinned against her side. Her other arm was beneath her. He nuzzled her ear and the heat of his breath gave her chills. Damn. This feels good. But it was wrong, oh so wrong on so many levels. He mumbled words on an unintelligible whisper as he tugged her tighter.
Shia couldn’t move. His face was buried in her hair and rested on the side of her head as if it were his pillow. It was evident the medication held him in a deep slumber. He probably was dreaming, remembering a woman from his past. Shia flinched. He was thinking of someone else while holding her, groping her. His thumb stopped moving but his hand still cradled her breast as if he’d held it like this always. Letting out the breath she held, she was stuck. He was dead weight and would not be budged.
She could call for help but doubted Dio would hear unless she screamed. If she screamed would the big man wrapped around her wake? Would he be startled and start fighting before becoming fully cognitive? In her position, he could kill her before she got in the first punch.
There was nothing left for her but to rest. Being in his arms wasn’t unpleasant. If it were under any other circumstances, he would’ve been a notch in her headboard already. Shia smiled at the thought, snuggled into as comfortable a position as possible and gave in to the tiredness gripping her body.
His head was heavy and his eyes battled not to open. He didn’t know how long he’d slept or where he was. But he knew he was no longer in hell. The temperature around him was much cooler. An unfamiliar scent filled his nose. An essence of sunshine and daisies mixed with honey filled every intake of air. It was much better than the stench of sulfur, brimstone and unwashed convicts. Kal flexed his fingers and met with a soft, perky handful of breast. He pried his eyes open, seeing a mass of thick golden hair in his face. He didn’t move, but his cock responded, standing at attention, nestled between him and the firm bare bottom of a woman. Her robe was tangled at her waist between them.