26. CHAPTER 26
Zayne
The Territories
Archai, Caspador
Fire danced along the divider and lit the room in a subdued glow. Zayne leaned against the brass bar and looked at the bartender. “Water is fine.”
“I'll take a double of whatever costs the most,” Brock said. “Put it on Captain Garrison's tab.”
“We're working,” Zayne said. “Don't get drunk.”
“I know how to work. Don't lecture me.”
“Sure.” Zayne accepted his water when the phone behind the bar rang.
The bartender answered, speaking for only a moment before extending it to Zayne. “For you.”
“Sergeant Riven,” he said into the phone.
“Hold for the High General,” said the voice of one of his father's executive assistants.
Kira better not have gotten herself into trouble while he was away.
Though Zayne expected her to find a way to fight back, especially considering her abilities with PXI and tech—and that he left the electronics in the house—he really needed no one to find out.
Relinquishing control to Kira without warning her about the dangers to look out for churned Zayne's insides in a maelstrom.
As a civilian and without his inside information, Kira lacked key understandings of security at his parents' house and in the capital.
However, he never interfered in Kira's work before.
He trusted her abilities. Captivity as the Phaedra's most valuable prisoner was like nothing she'd ever encountered, though.
So, Zayne also needed to trust his mother to safeguard Kira and remember the warnings he gave her. While Kira may think she did her work alone—if she did attempt anything—his mom was there to look after her.
“Christopher failed,” his father said without a greeting. “The United intercepted his contact with Becka Rogers.”
The relief made it incredibly challenging to force himself to look disappointed by the news. Zayne carefully guarded his expression in front of the bartender, a loyalist who worked for the Phaedra.
“This is why we should've kept it in the family,” he said.
Between Reinard and Ashantae, they placed multiple redundancies to ensure that United intercepted the communication with Becka.
If the Phaedra established a way to receive information from her, then untold numbers of Followers died with no hope of saving them.
Now that the United knew the Phaedra held Kira hostage, they'd imprison Becka Rogers so no one could reach her.
“Agreed,” his father said. “The Phaedra trusted the boy. Now you'll clean up his mess.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Becka Stiles is already on lockdown. We need a way to communicate. Use all our resources in Caspador and tell that captain not to fail again.”
“My pleasure.” Truly, it was. He hated Christopher Garrison and took great joy in sabotaging such a vile motherfucker.
After hanging up, Zayne leaned over to Brock. “It seems Christopher blew his most important job.”
His friend downed his shot, cutting a look to Zayne. Their first victory with Kira.
Now, to help her escape before the Phaedra found a back-channel to Becka. While Zayne bought himself time, the Phaedra wasn't patient. He'd assign Luke to the mission if it took too long, and his brother was never easily fooled. Say what he wanted about Luke, he was one of the best at what he did.
The clicking of heels tapped out a sauntering drawl behind him. A waft of citrus followed a woman who squeezed between Brock and Zayne, brushing against them on her way to lean on the bar.
“My usual, please.” Dark lips flashed in a smile that melted the bartender, who looked like he nodded with his entire body.
“Coming right up, miss.”
“Thank you.” Another moment of eye contact, just enough to surely make him hers forever, and she turned to rest her back against the bar, arms anchored on either side of her. Arching her back, she opened her posture to them, obviously inviting any amount of attention they wanted to give.
“Gentlemen,” she said with a meandering look down at Zayne and then Brock.
Not happening, ever.
Zayne recognized an attack when he saw one.
This woman looked like she'd been plucked from the movies the Phaedra spent so much money on, with eyes as dark as night and endless curls framing her shapely face.
Her sapphire dress clung tight as skin to every contour of her willowy form.
She wanted to distract them. Manipulate them. And she didn't hide it.
His voice turned hard as stone. “Who the hell are you?”
The hostility didn't deter her. She met his eyes a second longer than comfortable. “Christopher's friend.”
“Hi, Christopher's friend.” Brock smiled with the ease of a man who rarely needed to guard against someone interested in his position, name, or money.
“Hi.” She plucked the end of her scarf, twisting it. “I could be your friend too.” Turning to Zayne. “And yours.”
Stylish black gloves rose halfway up her forearms. Zayne should have noticed sooner, given all the marks of his own he hid. Did she just alert him to those on purpose?
“I don't need any friends,” Zayne said.
“Oh, you're in love?”
“Engaged.”
“There's a distinction, then. Who's the other woman?”
“There is no other woman. Keep digging if you want compromising information on me.”
“Rude.” She cast a look at Brock. “Your friend is an asshole.”
Brock opened his mouth, but Zayne flicked his glance to the woman's ring finger.
Guilt tensed his face. Yeah. Lesson learned the hard way. No one entered this bar for fun.
“I need your name.” Zayne faced her, the shift putting more distance between their bodies while directing his attention fully on her. A very different kind of attention than she likely hoped for.
“Miya.” Her eyes raked down him. That look was not one of interest, but calculation in disguise. She surveyed his body the way he sized up threats and vulnerabilities on the battlefield. “And yours?”
“Where's Christopher?” Zayne asked.
“He'll be here soon. He sent me ahead to welcome you. He says you're very important guests.” Miya seemed to take note of his water.
“We'll let him know we felt quite welcome,” Zayne said.
“How, exactly, did you meet our friend, Christopher?” Brock asked.
“I work at Governor Krowe's house,” she said.
Strange Christopher sent Miya to them, given his reputation for jealousy.
Rumors abounded about bruises on his wife over the years, particularly any time a man talked to her for too long.
Then again, Christopher's fealty to the Phaedra ran deep.
Perhaps he thought offering them a gift might encourage Zayne to smooth over the mistake with Becka Rogers.
Or he just wanted to show off his trophy because Zayne had two seals while Christopher only had one.
Whatever game Christopher played, Zayne wanted to pummel his face into the ground even more because of it.
He'd seen enough. One look at Miya, and Christopher must have recognized her as a valuable asset.
But this man lusted after the power of capturing a strong woman and thought himself cunning enough to control her.
An arrogant and self-indulgent man was always vulnerable to a counterintelligence operation with a woman like Miya.
Zayne needed to know if she worked for the United.
The Phaedra wanted him to wear his seals for all to see, to make Archai whisper about how seriously the emperor took Governor Krowe's insult. It may encourage honesty in Miya to see them, even if Zayne despised revealing them at all.
He stripped off his jacket and folded it over one of the bar stools.
Her eyes crawled along the snakes and down to the double seals.
The bartender stared as well, like anyone who saw such a rare testament to power.
Miya concealed her fear adeptly, but Zayne tracked the changes in her breathing and posture.
“You are important guests,” she said.
“Explain your involvement in this operation,” Zayne said. “Christopher didn't include you in his report.”
He wouldn't leave her frightened for long, but he needed the truth.
The sultry tone vanished. “The captain will be angry if I talk without him.”
The captain. Not Christopher. Miya let Zayne see she wasn't comfortable with any of them or this situation.
“Christopher answers to the Phaedra, and the Phaedra sent me.” Zayne took one step forward.
Miya's breathing fell shallower. “I work for a company called Rafferty. A few of our clients are interested in acquiring Krowe's estate. When Captain Garrison came, I offered our services to him.”
“Why?”
She had the same look as every person who ever stared down the barrel of his gun. “I want to live.”
Miya didn't seem honest for one second since entering the room, but this was the truth. She was trying to survive a war zone. Whether she really worked for this company or the United, he wasn't sure, but he trusted at least this one thing she said.
“Okay,” Zayne said. It was enough.
“Don't you have more questions?”
He crossed his arms. “I'll ask Christopher my questions. That's all I needed from you.”
Miya's body untensed, though her stare remained sharp. “I'd love to know how you got two of those—” she nodded at his seals before raising her brows at the solitary band around his arm. “—before getting two of those.”
More fact-finding. Her survival instincts were good.
When Zayne made lieutenant, he'd get a band around his other arm. It was a matter of time, but she was right about it being strange, and that provided her with information too. That his authority far outweighed his rank and age.
“That's what happens when you're the son of the High General. You get your double seal before your officer's band.” Christopher entered the doorway, grinning. “We've got royalty in our presence.”
Zayne didn't gift him with a response, but Brock's nostrils widened.
“Or when you keep your mouth shut in the North,” his friend said.
“Don't,” Zayne breathed.