Seduce Me in Flames by Jacquelyn Frank
“What is it?” Ambrea asked him, worry etching lines into her face almost instantly.
“Nothing,” he said, shrugging off her concern. Whatever it was, they were minutes away from finding out. He shouldn’t have shown her his worries to start with. It had been thoughtless of him. Truth be told, he’d been off his mark, it seemed, for this entire mission. He would be grateful when it was finally over.
But there was still a long way to go. The mission would not end for him until the matter of her rights to her throne had been adjudicated and he had walked her into her palace and seen her take her rightful seat. As far as the IM was concerned, this was the most pressing matter in all of the Three Worlds at the moment. A great deal hinged on this single woman achieving her place in Allay. The economics alone could have far-reaching ramifications if all did not go as it should. As could Allay being plunged into civil war, or worse yet grasped in the grip of a dictator like Balkin Tsu Allay, who had orchestrated much of Benit Tsu Allay’s iron-fisted imperial rule …
Balkin was far from being an unknown to the IM. It was Balkin’s grasp of the laws of Allay and the laws of the Interplanetary Militia that had tied the militia’s hands all these cycles. The IM had always lacked the solid proof it had needed that there were crimes against humanity being perpetrated in Allay, Balkin’s brutal efficiency at seeing to it there were no witnesses, no evidence, and no one brave enough to raise a voice against the emperor. But when Benit died and the boy had inherited the throne, the nobles had finally found the backbone to speak up, seeing the opportunity for what it was … and seeing the writing on the wall if Balkin was allowed to control the boy absolutely.
It was unexpectedly ambitious and sloppy of Balkin to murder his nephew. The IM could only assume it was murder until evidence was found otherwise, but there was always the possibility that it had truly been a run of bad luck in the imperial family. After all, why would Balkin be so methodical for so long and then seemingly impulsive all of a sudden? And it was very strange that he hadn’t seen to the princess’s death first. He’d had her completely in his grasp in his prison. The only way he could claim the throne was if she were dead.
It didn’t make sense.
Rush shrugged off the worry. It was none of his concern. His job was to protect Ambrea’s life, not puzzle out the whys and wherefores of the politics around her. He was a grunt with a job to do and he was just going to do it.
The next sound he heard alerted him to the approach of a person, or group of persons. He cocked his head, listening sharply, automatically putting a powerful hand around the princess’s upper arm, ready to pull her in whatever direction he needed her to go. Whoever it was knew how to walk with care and in near silence, in spite of all the noisy things littering the floor of the forest that made it nearly impossible to do so. He believed it was Chapel approaching at first, but then remembered something.
Suna.
Suna wasn’t trained to walk a forest floor soundlessly. So he ought to be hearing her clumsy, crashing footsteps since she was with them.
He didn’t know what made him throw up a guarding hand, but it allowed his forearm to block the sudden slice of a nasty double-edged blade. Rush stopped the thing from hitting his throat by a fraction, the metal so close that when he grabbed the offending arm on the other end of the blade, the metal scraped the underside of his jaw as if to shave him close and clean. He yanked the attacker out of the cover of the trees and threw him against the resonance boundary that cut them off from their escape. The contact made an impact wave shimmer through the energy of the resonance field. The sound was like the buckling of fatigued metal. The shock that burst into the attacker was meant to discourage animals from escaping onto the tarmac, or people from doing exactly what they were planning to do—escape the planet without going through proper channels. Unfortunately, since Rush had a tight grip on the man, the shock went straight into him as well, the power of the conduction rattling every nerve in his body. But like the stun guns, he could tolerate far more than the average person.
It immediately struck him as odd that the attacker, dressed in an imperial uniform, would take the risk of eliminating him with hand to hand. Rush was clearly superior in strength and size. Why not just shoot him from a safe distance if he knew he was there?
The question was answered when a streak of energy struck him hard in the side of his face. It felt as though he’d been smacked with a ball of acid, the sting fierce and burning. It was a shot from a 240, meant to painfully take him out of the picture.
All it did was piss him off.
He reached for his munitions belt with his off hand, his dominant hand crushing the first soldier into the resonance barrier. He realized that the first man was unconscious about the same time as multiple laser hits began to spray the air around him. He threw the spitter bomb he’d pulled from his belt, aiming directly for the first gunner. He let go of the knifer and grabbed for Ambrea, folding her into his arms and into the protective bend of his body. The spitter went off, spraying the area with bio-corrosive gel. Shouts and mayhem filled the air. The gel was meant to burn any living organism it touched, so any exposed skin, the trees, the brush—all of it sizzled as it corroded away like metal infested with virulent rust. He’d chosen the spitter because it was quieter than anything else he had, had a low radius of effect, and immediately incapacitated anything it touched. No one could tolerate the pain of the corrosive. It dropped them in their steps instantaneously.
Ambrea had gripped his arms, her breathing panicked and ragged. Her face was burrowed against his biceps. He reached up to touch her hair, stroking it gently for the briefest of moments but conveying the comfort she needed to get her to release her deathly grip on him. She silently nodded, moving free of him, realizing that he didn’t have time to be dragged down by her.
“Get low. Stay here until I come back. I’ll only be a second.”
She crouched down into the fan ferns, trying not to look at the body of the soldier that lay crumpled on the ground mere inches away her. She had never seen anything like the jolting, clawing horror in that soldier’s face as Rush had held him trapped in a place of excruciating pain. Ambrea knew that the power in the resonance boundary was incredible, a tremendous repelling force that was not meant to be used as anything other than a fierce repellent. It was not deadly as it repulsed whatever touched it, forcing it hard away. But Rush had used his incredible strength and that awesome mutation of his body to fight the repulse and keep the guard firmly against its power.
The power to create fire with a thought, the ability to withstand energy fire from the most savage of weapons, and now the strength necessary to endure the pulse of the resonance boundary. A skilled, trained warrior. An expert, clearly, in all sorts of munitions. Dogged and loyal.
That was when Ambrea Vas Allay knew she had to keep Rush “Ender” Blakely at her side at all costs.
Eirie watched with intent eyes as Balkin paced the length of the private receiving room over and over again. She was silent, had been for the past half hour as he worked his mind around the issues he faced. So far there had been no reports that the princess was alive. But then again, there were no reports on who had tried to help her escape either. However, Eirie was not going to be fooled. Curta had been positive that the rightful heir of Allay yet lived. And although Curta’s predictions were far from clear and perfect, she was rarely blatantly wrong. Still, Eirie had to act on the supposition that Ambrea was drowned and dead until she heard a report otherwise, just as Balkin was doing. Balkin was not a believer in the conjurer crafts. If he knew Eirie was motivated by them, he would dismiss her in disgust and would not listen to anything she had to say. But at the moment he wasn’t aware of any predictions or magic at play, so she had to behave as if any advice she gave was based on the information at hand. Besides, Curta had been very specific. The Princess of Allay would no longer exist in three days’ time.
“You must raise yourself to the emperor’s seat,” Eirie said at l
Balkin’s pacing slowed as she spoke until finally he came to a complete halt. He was looking at her with no little wonder and surprise.
“Now you speak of children? You who, for all these years, denied me them because you were too vain a bitch to risk ruining your figure?”
She smiled, slowly getting to her feet, lifting her shoulders in a proud and perfect posture that she knew best displayed the charms of her body. Her silken gown breathed and swept against her curves as she moved with careful deliberation toward him. She knew that when she stood as close to him as she did that her perfume would wrap around his senses; the concoction was one of Curta’s genius creations. It sought out a male’s libido with purpose, aroused his senses and stimulated his hormones. Old or young, any man within her sphere would be aroused by her mere presence. She considered it a perfect enhancement to her already undeniable allure. The men of the court called her bewitching, the women seethed with jealousy as their supposedly loyal lovers were beckoned to her side and found themselves flirting with her. Some even put hands on her, cornered her, chased her down even though they knew that, should Balkin catch them touching her, they would forfeit their lives. Although Balkin took pleasure in watching other men covet her, and took power in the benefits that her flirtations could extract from the rich nobles, he was viciously jealous if he thought it was going too far.
“My love,” she said softly as she raised her hands to his chest and rubbed them over him with warmth and intimacy, absorbing the virile contours of the muscles beneath. Balkin was no weak bureaucrat. He was a man of vital strength who engaged in hard, violent sports that accentuated his prowess as a warrior. It was another reason why she had preferred to pursue his potential over that of his more indolent brother. “The face of the world has changed, and I must change with it. I was free to decide if I wished to give a man a child or not. But I am not free to decide if I should give a country desperately needed heirs. It is my duty to see to the continuation of your line.”
“Orders. Duty. Demands. I become emperor and suddenly I have these powers over you and you say you will obey all of my wishes. All of my desires.” He reached out to grasp her around both her upper arms, giving her a little shake. “I could not coax you to do it out of love for me, but now … now I can force you to my will. And you think this gives me pleasure? To know that as a mere man I could not win your obedience? That this mere man was not good enough for you?”
This was dangerous ground, but Eirie was not afraid.
“Don’t be foolish,” she whispered gently, lifting her fingers to touch his mouth. She knew even the smallest of her caresses drove him to distraction. “I have always loved you with all my heart, and I always will, whether you are emperor or the lowliest of peasants. I will be by your side every moment of every day for the rest of your life. You are everything to me, and you always have been. The only change is that I asked your indulgence before in my little vanities. My … preferences. But I no longer have the right to ask those indulgences of you. Nor should you continue to give them to me. You and I are going to bring Allay into a new era, a place of prosperity for this realm and order for its people. Together we are going to give birth to your dynasty. Allay will be ours forever. It will belong to our blood forever.”
His lips curled into a sardonic smile.
“If I didn’t know you for the avaricious, spoiled thing you are, I might believe your passionate, beautiful speeches, Eirie. You might love me now, but if I were that lowly peasant, you would have nothing to do with me.”
“Untrue,” she scolded him. Indeed, she would be by his side every moment of every day of his life. But she could guarantee that she would cut his throat in his sleep rather than allow herself to be dragged into the muck of mediocrity. Still, she had little fear of that happening now. “You wound me to think me so shallow. I freely admit to my vanities and even my ambition. After all, aren’t these the things you love about me? But I have never given you any reason to doubt my loyalty to you, Balkin. Everything I have ever done has been to satisfy your needs. I have seduced potentates, hostessed massive pageants to display the wealth of Allay, and spied on the men of your court through my friendships with their women. Do I do this for my pleasure? No. It’s all for you.”
“And what if I decide to make you my concubine, Eirie,” he threatened her in a low, taunting whisper that sent a chill of dread down her spine. Eirie was almost entirely certain of her power over him, but if life had taught her anything, it was that power could change anyone. Even though Balkin was not new to holding an exalted position, he had a cruel streak that could easily be fed by the idea of absolute supremacy. “You could be the first of many, you know. Potentates from all over the Three Worlds will want to give me their daughters for the fucking. They will readily and eagerly give me my dynasty. You will grow old and bored locked away in the House of Concubines.”
“Then be prepared to never know the joys of my body again, Imperial Majesty, because I will cut your cock off at the root and wear it as a hair ornament if you try.”
Balkin threw back his head and laughed. Then he forced a kiss on her, knowing it would infuriate her as her baited temper rose. He gripped her face in the power of a single hand, kissing her hard and long as she struggled to jerk free. He used his other hand to block the knee she tried to jam into his testicles. He pushed away from her, laughing again as she gathered her composure and shot venom at him with her eyes.
“There she is,” he said with amusement. “My meek and obedient bride.” He smiled at her, the expression turning him handsome in her eyes. Eirie had to admit, she was foolishly fond of the man. Especially when he could still surprise her like this and show her he had a dangerously strong backbone. Then again, none of this would be worth it if he were a simple conquest. She would have died of boredom long ago. She counted herself fortunate in many ways. Perhaps she would be a little sad if he ever did fall from grace and position. Luckily, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Play the lord and emperor with any other person in your realm, my great lord,” she said heatedly, “but I will be your equal in all things or I will be nothing to you. I promise you that.”
He nodded slowly, making her heart stutter a beat. She felt everything just within her grasp, so very close, and knew he felt the exact same thing. The only burr was that missing girl. But she refused to let him equivocate over it any longer. It was time for decisive action all around. On his part and on hers. She was either all in or she was packing her bags and finding new game to hunt.
“I will announce the coronation and my acceptance of the imperial seat immediately. And you, my slippery bitch, will wed me the very instant the crown is against my brow.”
“Gladly, my great lord,” she said softly, bowing her head but never lowering her eyes from his. “A crowning followed by a great wedding ceremony. Such a spectacle has a way of making people forget things like missing heirs and dead boy kings.”
“True. And you will plan it all?”
Eirie smiled.
“Nothing could possibly stop me.”
“And a hearty hello to you, too,” Bronse Chapel said dryly as he looked down on the collection of unconscious and incapacitated men. The men who were still conscious were delirious with pain, foaming at the mouth as they wished for the unconscious bliss their brother guards had found.
Rush had his hands clenched into fists as he stood over the carnage he had wrought. He looked up at the rest of his squad.
“I tried to keep it tight. I
There was no need to ask. If they had, they’d be in equally bad shape as the four suffering guards were. Five, counting the idiot who had thought he could distract him with a knife in his ribs. To tell the truth, if he hadn’t been the impervious freak that he was, that energy blast to his face would have probably popped his head off from the inside out, like a kernel of kick corn in a pressure popper. And it was his own damn fault. He’d let himself get distracted with minutiae.
His gaze fell to immediately counting heads, and he was relieved to see everyone accounted for. But the relief lasted barely a second when he saw Justice. She looked as though someone had tried to cut her head off.
“Holy hell, Jus, what the fuck?”
“Eh, you should see the other guy,” she said blithely. “Oh wait, here he is.” She withdrew her dirty, bloodied blade, spinning the haft against her palm before putting it back in its sheath.
“Damn right,” he said grimly with a nod. And that was all the fuss she would allow from any of them, so he accepted the fact that she was on her own two feet and under her own power. “Sir, we best get through this barrier and to the ship as soon as possible. Between the sounds of firefighting and me throwing one of these guys into the resonance field, we’re bound to spark attention.”
“Let’s go. Is your principal still alive?”
“Last I checked. She’s hunkered down on the other side of that quoia.”
The group moved up to the boundary and Rush reached down to pull Ambrea out of hiding. She was starting to get that look in her eyes, something he often saw in battle-shocked people who weren’t used to the violence of fighting or war and yet found themselves thrust in the middle of it. He felt compelled to hold her, to comfort her, but he knew he had to shake that feeling. Especially in front of the others. Just the same, he touched his thumb to the swell of her high cheekbone and briefly shaped it with a stroke.