Demon’s Revenge (High Demon #5)(54)
Author: Connie Suttle

"They’ll be shipping the cargo off Stellar Winds tomorrow evening, if my source is correct," Lendill paced in front of a room filled with ASD starship commanders. "I want your troops ready for anything, since we don’t know yet where we’re going or what we’ll face when we get there. It’s likely that they’re well equipped, wherever they are, so we may have a battle on our hands before we can even get to the site. Once there, we have captives to consider. These are kidnapped women, bound for the slave trade. Most of you have been briefed that we are dealing with slavers. As you know, you were examined, too, when you walked into this room. The few who were shunted aside, well, let’s just say they’re having a bit of impromptu surgery to rid them of a device known as a controller." Lendill snapped the remote in his hand, pulling up images on a screen behind him. Those images illustrated what the controllers looked like and where they were placed—in the neck at the base of the brain.

"Some of us have been controlled, and unless we stop the ones responsible now, it’s very likely that in only a few moon turns, all will be under the control of a few masterminds. We cannot let this happen, and our physicians and scientists are working feverishly to produce a tiny disruptor that can be injected into the body, likely in the collarbone, which will negate the effectiveness of the controllers. Each of you will have one of these before you leave tonight to board your ships. We are using every one of the prototypes developed in the last few days, and your troops are now getting them as well. Only they think they are being immunized against a chemical agent."

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Physicians waited at the doors into the meeting room at ASD headquarters, armed with injectors, ready to give each commander the necessary disruptor. It was their hope to keep these men under the control of the ASD instead of Dantel Schuul and his small band of masterminds, who were bent on controlling both Alliances.

"Bro, it won’t be the greatest loss," Gavril reminded Rylend. "They’re out there, killing your loyal subjects without asking questions or considering the matter. It’s either do them in now, and in the worst possible way to get the others to back off, or it will be civil war for who knows how long. You know I can do this. And, since the regular army can’t handle this, well, I’m the commander in chief. It’s my job."

"Then get Aklus and Chimbl first; they’re killing everybody, including children. We’ve beaten them back a little, but they still have murder in their hearts. They want to cleanse the entire planet of any Karathian who might oppose their rule, and unfortunately, that’s just about everybody," Ry raked a hand through his hair. Erland and Corolan stood nearby, impassively listening to the exchange between brothers.

Gavril had warned Ry that it might come to this. He held the ability—because he was who he was and his parents were who they were. Gavril could go undetected if he wanted, and that was ideal for this situation. If Aklus and Chimbl fell, the others would likely fall to their knees and ask for clemency. Gavril didn’t like messy, but he could do it. After all, his mother had done it before him, just under different circumstances.

Ry had sent images of children to Gavril, their bodies tossed carelessly onto the streets of Karathia, in Aklus’ bid for power. He’d done that to terrorize the population. Chimbl wasn’t any better. He’d committed heinous acts of his own. Now, Gavril and Ry were about to show them what Lissa’s children were capable of doing. Tory, too, was due any moment. He was the wild card. As a High Demon, no warlock or wizard could hurl spells that might harm him.

"I’m here." Tory skipped in, ready to skip again at Ry’s command.

"Get us here," Ry pointed to the spot on the vid-image map. "It’s Aklus’ stronghold. He and Chimbl are holed up in Wylend’s old summer palace. He hasn’t used it in centuries, so it’s a good place for them to hide."

"I’ll get you there," Tory nodded to Gavril and Ry. "And I’ll turn Thifilathi as soon as we arrive. Gavril, I assume you’ll go in as mist and keep me mist as well?" The plan was that Tory would stay beside Ry—as mist, while Ry looked to be immune to any power thrown at him. Gavril could force anyone to remain mist, once he turned them if he so chose. Gavril would then proceed to lop off a few heads, making it appear as if Ry were effortlessly killing his enemies while they hurled their worst at him.

"Yep. They’ll never know we’re there," Gavril nodded.

"Take me as well," Erland stepped forward. "Corolan can disguise himself to look as I do. He can stay here at the palace, making it look as if I’m protecting it. I want in on this, son. This is ours to do. We will succeed or fall, together."

"Dad," Ry almost begged his father to stay behind and then thought better of it. "All right, we’ll do this. All of us," he nodded at his father, Gavril and Tory. Gavril turned all of them to mist and Tory skipped them away.

"What are these?" Zendeval had finally seen my claiming marks. "Answer me," he demanded. I blinked at him.

"Scars," I replied. "I was bitten. By an animal."

"I’m surprised you lived over it," he muttered. "Get dressed. I’m taking you to dinner before we leave."

I didn’t want to wear anything he wanted me to wear. He chose the black dress I’d bought for the rush in the bar downstairs, with the heels and jewelry I’d worn with it that night.

"I planned to convince you to come to bed with me—before moonrush," he wrapped his arms around me after I was dressed and ready to go. "I think so much more clearly when I hold you," he kissed the side of my neck. "And if I point out your scars during the sale, it might lower your price or convince some of the others not to bid." He was worried, I could tell. "I have never said this to any woman. I found them beneath me—was taught by Nedrizif and Perdil to consider them as such. Reah, I love you. If we are separated after tonight, I want you to remember that. That you were loved. Before moonrush. Come, we will have dinner."

I followed obediently behind him as we made our way to the elevator, and then down to the lower level. I saw Perdil going toward the kitchen—he was on duty for the evening. I wondered how he lived with himself—if he found solace making desserts while lives shattered around him.

Barely casting a glance in his direction, I continued to follow behind Zendeval. That might have been my place if I’d been ordinary. I wasn’t. I was something larger than that. I intended for Zendeval, Perdil and the others to see how large I could become. Neeki and Teeki had finally given me good service—I felt better. I was determined to eat as well—I needed as much strength as I could muster for the coming clicks. As for Zendeval Rjjn—af te Jufaleh.