The Reprisal Page 13

  “Bridget gave it to me two hours ago,” Romy replied.

  “Why am I only hearing of this now?” he seethed.

  She met his gaze calmly. “Because I wanted to think about it.”

  “This isn’t a decision you make on your own.”

  “I think it is.”

  The rest of the room, packed with captains, commanders, Cronus, and her knot, watched in tense silence.

  Romy addressed them. “This is an opportunity to negotiate the space soldiers’ return.” She addressed Atlas. “You said you would do so at the first available opportunity.”

  “Houston won’t give them up.”

  “He will give some up for the blood.”

  “You’re aware it’s a trap?” Cronus asked, taking the letter and scanning it.

  Atlas closed his eyes. “Of course it’s a trap.”

  “Just making sure.”

  Tina plucked it from Cronus’s grasp and read it, shaking her head. “If we don’t help, Houston won’t hesitate to make it known to the public. Romy’s right; we have some power here to get a portion of the soldiers back. We should open negotiations for two hundred and leave with no less than one hundred.”

  “Regardless of negotiations, if there are three hundred lives to save, we have to do it,” Elara said, curling her fists. “It’s our responsibility.”

  That was Romy’s sentiment. If they could get some of the space soldiers back, great, but she’d be giving her blood to Houston regardless.

  Atlas rubbed his temples. “Rosemary would have to go to have her blood drawn in-flight. It’s too risky. He wants to lure her out.”

  “It’s a risk. Just like any other.” Gwenyth spoke. “We secure the perimeter in advance. We’ll send out one team member with her blood.”

  Cronus hummed. “I’d personally like to make reparation to the space soldiers for all those years I did the Mandate’s bidding.”

  “You didn’t know, Cronus,” Atlas said, clapping the man on the shoulder.

  The older man was silent. Then he cleared his throat. “If we go ahead with this exchange and the ground teams pick up anything suspicious, we can turn the craft right around. We can make sure it’s safe before landing.”

  Romy let her gaze fall to her hands. As bizarre as it was to be a player in this game, she knew by now she was. People associated her with power, and more than that—her blood was a hot commodity. If Houston took her, the space soldiers here would be bereft of further testing and would still be vulnerable.

  On the other hand, Romy knew what a room full of dead bodies looked like. Her mind had already multiplied what she’d done in Cairo by six to show her the devastation of three hundred dead space soldiers. To put their fate on her shoulders wasn’t fair, but Romy had done so already.

  Like Cronus, she felt this was a way for her to make up for past misdeeds. “It needs to be done,” she said, interrupting someone.

  “I disagree,” Atlas said instantly.

  They stared off. Romy’s stomach tightened at the frantic edge to his voice.

  “You don’t think you might be biased?” Tina asked. “Are you sure the only reason you don’t want her to go is because you love her?”

  “Of course that’s the reason,” he said tightly. “But this is clearly a trap, and my feelings aside, Romy is wanted by every damn power on this planet.”

  Gwenyth sighed. “It’s three hundred lives, son.”

  “I’m confident the ground teams can clear the area,” Thrym said. “Commander Cronus is right. We don’t have to land if something looks off.”

  “We?” Romy said. “You aren’t coming.”

  Her knot stared at her with stony faces. “You aren’t going without us,” Phobos said.

  Romy shook her head.

  “It’s okay for you to go out into danger, but not the rest of us? You don’t get to decide that,” Elara said. “We feel just as much responsibility to see the space soldiers safe.”

  Atlas contemplated Romy. “If you don’t go, your knotmates won’t go.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Nice try, but I’m going.” And she’d do her best to change her knotmates’ minds after the meeting.

  “He’s unpredictable,” Atlas said through clenched teeth.

  Houston was a genius, no one was questioning that, and a genius half out of his mind was a dangerous genius. She knew so little of the doctor, really. She didn’t know anything about his life other than his medical career, which he’d told her about. “Where did Houston come from?” Romy asked.

  “Aberdeen,” Atlas muttered, not looking at her. She waited for him to meet her eyes, but he wouldn’t.

  “What do we know about him? Is there anything we can use?” Phobos said, picking up where Romy was going with her question.

  Cronus waved at the assistant frantically typing up the meeting notes. “Have someone look into it.”

  “Yes, sir.” The boy tapped furiously on his device. “I’ll have a report for you in three hours.”

  “It looks like it will be a vote,” Atlas said, glaring down every person in the room, arms behind his back and shoulders tensed. “Those in favour of meeting the Renegades in twenty hours?”

  Only he left his arm down. . . .

  The fire died from his eyes before flaring, and he pushed off the table. “Very well. If you wish to walk into this trap, so be it.”

  “Atlas,” Romy called to him.

  He didn’t stop on his way out the door.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry, Ro,” Deimos said for the fifth time as they all sat eating dinner in the Mess.

  She shrugged. “It’s not your fault you couldn’t save all of the space soldiers, Dei. You brought back over three thousand of them. Stop apologising.”

  A force had already been deployed to ensure the meeting area in Cairo was secure. The backup would stay far back and out of detection, but would be there if they required help.

  “Charlee gave us another injection,” Thrym said. “One with higher blood percentage in it. She said the tests with twenty-five per cent of your blood have held past two weeks, too.”

  Elara shovelled food into her mouth. “Can I just say it’s gross to be injected with your blood, Ro? Like, you’re my knotmate, but it’s still sick.”

  Romy forced a smile for her and Elara set down her fork. “Oh, Ro. It will be all right. He’s not mad at you. Not really. He’s angry that you’ll be in danger’s way, and that he got outvoted. Males hate that.”

  “He possibly wasn’t in the best mood today, either,” Phobos added with a guilty look.

  “What did you guys do to him?” Thrym asked.

  “Which time?”

  Thrym’s white teeth glinted. “Maybe I’ll just ask how many times.”

  “Five in the last two days. Resetting the fusion waste system to a lower heat, so the waste turned to sludge instead of evaporating, was probably the best one.”

  “Our crowning glory.” Deimos wiped a fake tear from his eye.

  That explained the panicking people.

  “How have you guys been going with him?” he asked Thrym and Elara.

  What? Romy gave the other two a disapproving look—which bounced right off Elara. “I was counting on you to be the responsible one,” Romy said to Thrym.

  “It’s going well,” Thrym answered the twins cryptically, ignoring her.

  Elara scraped her plate and shoved the last morsel in her mouth. “I’ve been nice to him for the most part. Sometimes I give him endless, boring advice. I snap at him at least once during our talks. Pretty sure he has no idea what to do with me.” She cackled. “He brings food each time. Like that’s going to win me over.”

  Phobos glanced at Ellie’s empty plate.

  “What are you doing to him?” Romy asked Thrym.

  He shrugged. “Being in command can be a huge task when someone in the room won’t stop asking questions.”

  The others snorted.

  “You all realise I love Atlas?”
she asked them.

  Phobos answered, “You realise we won’t stop until we’re sure he’s the man for you?”

  “I thought that was my choice,” she countered.

  Elara patted her hand. “It is, Ro. It is. We’re just making extra, quadruple sure for you.”

  “Thanks,” Romy said drily. “So, about tomorrow. . . .”

  “Save your breath. We’re all coming,” Thrym said.

  There wasn’t the slightest weakness in their resolution as Romy ran her eyes over her knot. With a heavy huff, she took her tray to the bin and scraped it, watching as the full bin disappeared below the floor and another bin took its place. Spotting Charlee, she hurried to intercept her.

  “Char,” she called.

  The doctor tore her gaze away from where she’d been eyeing Deimos.

  Romy scrunched her nose. “What were you just doing?”

  “Foreplay.”

  Bile rose in her throat. “That is . . . never mind. I want you to take as much blood as you can from me before we leave for Cairo.”

  She shook her head. “You’ll already be giving half a litre to Houston. It’s not safe.”

  “How many can I give without dying?”

  Charlee frowned at her. “Five. Maybe six with your nano-tech, but I’m under strict orders not to risk you in any way.” She held a hand up as Romy opened her mouth. “No, Romy. That’s my final word. Space soldier maximum is half a litre every month because you heal more rapidly than other humans. You did that two weeks ago, and now you’ll be doing it again. I’m not taking more from you.”

  “If I don’t make it back, you might need the extra juice, though.”

  The doctor drew in closer. “I’m not so sure. I’ve returned to mapping your genetic discrepancies. Houston did this in the initial stages, but he didn’t go back to it when your brain overrode your nanos. There may be something in there that helps the blood injection hold.”

  “Thrym said the twenty-five per cent tests are going well?”

  “Were,” Charlee said with a heavy sigh. “They lost hold an hour ago. The ones of stronger concentration are still viable, but I don’t foster much hope of any of them holding. If one at twenty-five per cent doesn’t, a fifty or ninety per cent won’t either. No,” her eyes shifted, “there is another answer. Or a combination of answers.”

  “I know you hate me saying so, but you’re the right person for this job.”

  “I’ll never be brilliant,” Charlee said. “But I can be methodical. Let’s hope that’s enough.”

  “You’re sure you won’t take any more blood from me?”

  The doctor pressed her lips together. “Absolutely sure. You’ll just have to make sure you come back now, won’t you?”

  Romy grinned. “I guess so.” She stepped in and hugged the doctor hard. “I’m so glad I met you, Char.”

  The doctor’s arms came up around Romy and she gave a surprised chuckle. “Me too. Never been happier someone crash-landed on Earth.”

  “Deimos seemed surprised you’d give him a second chance. I think you’re good to go on that,” she whispered in the doctor’s ear.

  Charlee grinned as Romy pulled away. “Did he indeed?” She pushed back her hair, blew a kiss at Romy and wove over to an empty table, ignoring Deimos completely.

  Five seconds later, Deimos joined the doctor at her table.

  * * *

  Romy pushed open the door with no small amount of trepidation.

  He was sitting there, on the bed they’d shared for the last six weeks.

  “Hey,” she said after a beat.

  Atlas lifted his head. “Hey.”

  Unsure what to do, Romy hovered in the doorway. “If you want to be alone, I can leave.”

  He stood and frowned at the ground. “No, I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been alone my whole life. That’s the whole point.”

  Her breath stuttered in her throat in shock. “I’m not doing this to leave you, Atlas.”

  “I know that. That’s not what I mean.”

  “Then what do you mean?” she asked softly. “Those space soldiers need our help.”

  He ran his hands through his hair, pacing on the spot. “But why does it always need to be you?” He crossed to her in long strides. “When will this world leave you alone?”

  She couldn’t watch his deep-rooted scars pushing to the surface. “I don’t know. But it’s not right now.”

  His hands shifted up her arms. “I hate that it’s always you.” He wiped his thumb under her eye, brushing away a tear. “Don’t cry, darling. It’s not you I’m mad at. I’m mad at everyone else for trying to take you away.”

  “I wish I hadn’t had to hurt your feelings in the debriefing room. I’m sorry,” Romy said.

  He gave her a sad half smile. “Never be sorry for making the choices you have to. Isn’t that what you told me?”

  “I’m wise sometimes.”

  “It’s Houston that worries me, his unpredictability.”

  “All you can count on is that he’s a jerk,” Romy said.

  Atlas shook his head. “All I can count on is that he wants a show. He has always waited for the moment when most people can see his genius in action, and the second when he can make the largest bang. I can count on him wanting to bear witness to his triumph, to be unable to resist the temptation of front-row seats. It’s why he will come to Cairo to meet you, instead of allowing others to take his place, you’ll see. His arrogance is predictable in so many ways, but his mind is utterly unpredictable.”

  Romy played over his words. “I’ve never seen him in exactly that way, but you’re right.” She smiled up at him. “That’s why you’re commander-general.”

  Atlas grazed over her cheekbone with his lips. “I would tear apart every inch of this world if something happened to you. I love you so much, Rosemary.”

  “I love you, Atlas,” she managed to get out just before his lips touched hers.

  The kiss was different from anything they'd shared before. The intensity and depth of the touch so endless it scared the comets out of her. A silent desperation dictated their movements. His hands moved to her zipper and he drew it slowly down, pushing the coveralls off of her shoulders. They fell to the ground around her feet.

  Not pausing their kiss for a second, Romy reached for the bottom of his shirt and slid it up over his head.

  He broke away, whipping the garment over his head and returning to her with new ferocity. “You’re okay?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

  If he stopped now, Romy would have a full-blown lady tantrum. “Don’t stop,” she said, closing the gap.

  With a growl, he picked her up and covered the ground to their bed, tossing her onto it.

  She gave a breathless laugh, and reached for him. . . .

  . . . Pulling the man she loved down to join her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Everyone on-board?” Tina asked.

  Thrym did a third head count. Always dotting his I’s and crossing his T’s. “Affirmative.”

  Their usual team of ten sat strapped into the cargo area of the craft, except Nancy had been switched out for Dr Charlee. Elara sat up in the pilot seat, with Phobos co-piloting.

  The area behind them cleared of personnel, and as the cargo door began to close, Atlas stepped into the craft.

  “Hold the door!” Tina shouted to the front. The door stopped. “What are you doing here?” she asked him incredulously.

  As well as his usual cargos and black T-shirt, a black bulletproof vest was strapped in place, he had a handgun on each hip, a knife was strapped to his left calf, and he held a sleek rifle in his hands. Atlas walked to Don. “I’ll be taking your place on this one.”

  Don, one of their regular team members, unstrapped his harness and walked off the craft without a word.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Tina said, eyes flashing.

  Atlas passed his rifle to Thrym to hold while he sat and fastened the harness in the vacated chair.

&nbs
p; Tina got in his face. “We’re not just giving Houston Romy, we’re giving him the opportunity to take the commander-general, too? This isn’t how you play chess, Atlas. Do you not trust the way I run things?”

  His eyes cooled. “When it comes to her life, there’s no one I trust more than myself.”

  Hurt slashed across Tina’s face and she stared at him for a drawn-out moment.

  “Take off,” Atlas called to Elara.

  The door closed. Tina smoothed her expression and took a seat.

  As soon as they were in the air, Atlas unstrapped himself and stood in the centre of the cargo area. “Our forces have been in place for fifteen hours outside of Cairo. They have scanned the meeting point and set up a perimeter one kilometre back. We won’t be going in until Houston’s party have landed and our ground teams and eyes in the air say we are clear. We’ll be landing close to their location, so the cannons cannot be used against us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Romy chimed with the others.

  She wasn’t sure how to feel about his presence. A part of her was elated not to be parted from him for any length of time. She felt safer for him being here; she understood why he’d been unable to remain behind . . . but there was also intense worry over what might happen to him—which was ridiculous. Romy had seen Atlas in action several times. Where she’d had twenty or so missions to get used to the idea of her knot being in danger, there was a kind of reassurance to know there was someone she loved back at the Amach to return to.

  All of her eggs were in one craft, and it was unsettling.

  Atlas approached where she sat next to Deimos. He addressed her knotmate. “I had some ideas I wanted to run by you.”

  “Already?” Deimos answered. “I’m impressed.”

  Atlas shrugged. “I have ground to make up. Can’t say I had time for pranks in my childhood.”

  “Man, have you got a few things to learn,” crowed Deimos.

  What is going on?

  “Do you mind if I have a word with Rosemary?” Atlas asked Deimos. Her knotmate gave a quick nod and moved across to sit next to Thrym.

  She waited until he was out of earshot. “What the heck was that?”