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  While he went ahead, Jullien ran back to check on Kiara, who had yet to leave her room.

  "Highness?" he called from the doorway. "We have to go."

  Distraught and frenzied, she searched the room violently. "I can't find Zarina's woobie. She can't sleep without it. I put her to bed with it and now it's gone!"

  Damn. As the parent of two stubborn toddlers, he well understood that. There was nothing in the universe more unreasonable than a petulant child at bedtime.

  Just when Jullien thought it couldn't get worse, his father walked in, holding a sleeping Zarina. "I looked all through the nursery. I didn't see it in there, either."

  His father's unexpected presence slammed into him like a sledgehammer to his stones.

  For a full minute, Jullien couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He hadn't seen his father since the night Nykyrian had held him against the wall at Camry's and threatened to blow his brains out. His father had just stood there, saying nothing. Had Nyk pulled the trigger, his father wouldn't have done anything to stop it.

  Aros probably would have applauded, then cursed Jullien's corpse for daring to make an inconsiderate mess for the staff to clean up.

  Worse, Jullien remembered the sight of his father turning his back and walking away to callously leave him in the care of strangers after he'd choked him to death.

  He'd never once in the whole of Jullien's life held him with the care he was now using to cradle Kiara's daughter.

  The whistling sound of a missile drop in the distance finally shook him out of his stupor.

  "What does her woobie look like?" he asked Kiara.

  "It's a fox blanket."

  Shots sounded outside in the palace yard. Lights from blasters lit up the windows. His father went stark white and almost dropped the baby as Zarina woke up and let out a foul, terrified scream.

  Cursing him, Jullien took Zarina and handed her to her mother, then pushed his father toward the queen's bedroom. "To the tadara's chamber!"

  He pulled his armor-plated jacket off and wrapped it around Kiara's shoulders before he gently and carefully tucked his niece against his chest with his cyber-arm. It was stronger and would protect her from a blast.

  As they headed for the door, he saw the woobie on the floor, under Zarina's basinet by the window where it must have fallen out when they picked her up.

  Using his telekinesis, Jullien held his hand out and snatched it from the floor at the same time League assassins came in through the windows next to it.

  Kiara screamed again.

  "Run!" he shouted, tucking the blanket around Zarina and using his body to shield her and her mother from the assassins. As they hurried toward his mother's bedroom, he opened fire on their pursuers.

  With Zarina still in his custody, he sent Kiara ahead, then ran to divert the League soldiers away from her to buy her enough time to get to safety. He turned and skidded in the hallway on his knees with the baby tucked against his shoulder. Right now, he sincerely missed Ushara. She'd be fighting with him and reloading. Not falling apart and screaming until his ears bled from the shrill sound of her useless hysteria.

  Or stopping continuously to check and see where they were.

  Why did Kiara keep stopping?

  He jerked a grenade from his belt and tossed it, then grabbed Kiara's elbow as he caught up to her and pulled her into the bedroom, where Thraix waited at the door to finally offer some cover fire.

  "Is everyone in?" Jullien passed the baby to his brother-in-law.

  "Waiting on you," Thraix said irritably. He took Kiara and the baby to the closet. "C'mon!"

  After they left, Jullien hung back a moment to lock and block the door against their enemies.

  As he stepped away from the door, it blew open, sending shrapnel all over him. Because he'd given his jacket to Kiara, he had nothing to protect him from it. Pain racked his entire body, while he stumbled for the closet at the same time more missiles fell closer to the palace. Glass shattered and rained down from the windows. The ground shook, knocking him from his feet.

  Jullien hit the floor hard, and then it and the entire palace began to literally disintegrate around him. His ears buzzed.

  Fight, damn it, you worthless piece of shit! Get up and run!

  Just before him, within a few steps, he could see the door to the basement hell his grandmother's guards used to drag him to against his will. Hear her cruel laughter echoing as she promised him he'd regret whatever he'd done to earn his stay there.

  But his body wasn't listening as he crawled over falling rubble and burning debris toward safety.

  Then he heard it.

  Utter destruction as a League squadron broke through their armada and unleashed a massive bombing run on his mother's race. The entire building blew apart around him and on him.

  Everything turned black.

  CHAPTER 38

  His ears ringing from the last explosion, which had knocked everyone to the ground and sent pieces of the metal ceiling crashing down around them, Thraix handed the squalling baby to her terrified mother, then stepped back to do a head count to make sure no one was trapped by the scattered debris of the partially collapsed tunnel he'd just run down.

  The number of folks crammed into the decrepit, musty room stunned him. Damn, there were a lot more here than they'd planned on. This wasn't just Kiara and her kids. It looked like half the royal families of all the Nine Worlds.

  What the hell did you get us into, Jules?

  The tadara was in a corner with the Triosan emperor and two other noble Andarion females he didn't recognize. All four looked a bit put out to be here, but weren't saying much. Doing her best to soothe her unsettled brood, Kiara was on the floor with her six kids, all of whom were crying or complaining, especially the eldest daughter, who sat with the two oldest boys. And the rest of the men and women, and kids, were in a similar state, asking a multitude of questions he didn't care to answer.

  Their only casualty appeared to be Shahara's mecha bodyguard who'd saved her and her son by pushing them out of the way when the tunnel had collapsed a moment ago. While they'd escaped without injuries, the walls had fallen on top of the mecha, crushing his android body and reducing him to worthless scrap.

  As they continued to whine about their situation, Thraix blocked their thoughts and their strident voices and cries.

  His mission had been to preserve Jullien's sister-in-law and her children. Now it was to get them all out of here, alive and intact.

  Davel coughed and wheezed as more debris fell from the ceiling. But so far, true to Jullien's prediction, the room they were in was holding and not collapsing. It was amazingly sound given what had just struck the palace.

  "Lot more of us than we planned for, eh?" Davel brushed the dust from his Tavali flightsuit.

  "Yeah."

  Davel wiped at the smear on his chin. "We're going to have to commandeer at least one more ship for an evac. There's no way we'll all fit on what we brought."

  "Yes, Dav," Thraix said, his tone weighted with sarcasm. "I'm aware of that. I can count. We were taught basic math on Trisa, too."

  Dimitri sneered at the large group. "Who the hell are all these bodies, anyway? Push to shove, do we have to save them?"

  Davel shrugged at his brother's question. "Where's Dagger? This was all his brilliant planning ... which is why it no doubt went to Tophet."

  A cold chill went down Thraix's spine as he realized that the only ones missing were from their group.

  Jullien, Axl, and Gallatin.

  He tapped his earlink. "Dagger? Life check. Where are you?"

  Static answered him.

  He met Davel's scared gaze as his own stomach cramped with sudden fear. "Dagger?" he tried again. "Piss me off, Andarion. C'mon, buddy. You better fucking answer me. I mean it! You drag my fat ass from my wife, you better not die--or I'll kill you."

  Davel took up the irrational panic. "Talk to me, my brothers. Where are you? Don't you thin the paltry number of males in our family. I need every one of us at the table on temple day. Don't you dare leave us alone with your widows and our sisters!"

  After an agonizing delay, Axl finally answered with heavy breathing that sounded like he was carrying an impossible weight. "Dagger's been hit. Bad."

  Davel froze. "Did he say Dagger was hit?"

  Thraix nodded.

  "Bad," Dimitri added as he headed for the collapsed tunnel to see if he could render aid. He started moving larger pieces aside to clear the path.

  "No!" Davel glared at Thraix, who went to help Dimitri. "Dagger ain't hit." Davel frantically shoved debris aside. "Dagger can't be hit. Dagger, don't you go down on us."

  Thraix decided to ignore those words, which Jullien would definitely have groaned aloud over if he were alert enough to hear them.

  Suddenly, Axl and Gallatin stumbled through the remains, dragging Jullien's bleeding, inert body between them. They, too, were soaked in his blood.

  "No, no, no!" Davel breathed as he and Dimitri moved forward to take Jullien from their shoulders and help lay him down on the floor. Dimitri stepped back immediately to allow Thraix to tend him.

  Davel stayed next to his side, complaining. "Damn it, Jules! Don't you dare die! Don't you make me make that call! Mom and Paka will kill me! They like you better, boy."

  Ignoring him, Thraix did his best to examine the bleeding wounds. "What the hell happened? Where's his flak jacket?"

  "He gave it to me."

  Thraix cursed at Kiara's soft voice. "'Course he did. Damn it, Jullien! You're such an asshole!" He rolled him to his side to see the blaster wounds on his back, where someone had shot him, and the horrifying amount of damage he'd taken from the explosion that had shredded the skin there.

  He let out a fierce groan of agonized pain. "My name isn't Damn-It-Jullien, you know? I'm really tired of everyone calling me that all the time."

  Grateful to the gods, Thraix released an irritated laugh as he heard Jullien's pain-filled, surly voice. "No, but it should have been. And Asshole should be your surname. You sure that's not what Anatole means in Andarion? They almost sound the same."

  "Ha. Ha." Jullien unstrapped the blast helmet from his head.

  Thraix helped him remove it. Blood leaked from his ear and nose. "I think you broke your head, Andarion. Probably got brain damage."

  "Like anyone could ever tell the difference." Jullien wiped at the blood.

  Thraix held his hand out for Jullien to take so that he could use his powers to heal him.

  But Jullien hesitated. "Not too much. I'm too weak to carry your gargantuan ass. You fall down, I'm leaving you behind. Just get rid of the pain, and I'll manage till we get to base."

  "You sure?"

  He nodded. "We can't afford for both of us to pass out. One of us has to have some form of brain activity. And at present, the gods know that's definitely not me."

  "All right. Hang on."

  Jullien took a deep breath and braced himself for the unholy hell of Thraix healing some of his blast wounds.

  He hissed as soon as it began. Son of a bitch, it hurt! But after a few seconds, it loosened enough to where he could at least breathe without wanting to die.

  Completely.

  Thraix was a little paler as he helped him sit up. However, the moment he was upright, two blast shots flew so close to his face that he felt the burn of them on his skin.

  "What the hell?"

  Axl, Davel, Dimitri, and Gallatin drew their blasters and pinned them on Shahara, Darling, Kelsei, and Tylie, who had their weapons drawn and aimed for Jullien's head. The six Andarion guards with them also drew weapons.

  "Who shot at me?" Jullien demanded.

  "The redhead." Davel switched his blaster from stun to kill with his thumb. "Want us to finish her?"

  "No!" Jullien wiped at the blood on his cheek that Shahara had drawn. Pissed off, he glared at her. Then looked at his parents, who just stood there while ten of their party held weapons aimed to kill him.

  Not a single word of protest.

  Their son who had just saved them all from annihilation.

  Why was he even surprised?

  Thraix shook his head with a sad sigh. "I'm so sorry for you, little brother."

  Yeah, so was he. He'd spent his whole life having to explain away his family and why they didn't give a shit about him. Honestly, he was tired of it.

  Darling glared at Jullien. "You weaselly bastard! What are you planning to do? Hand us over to Eriadne?"

  "Sure," Jullien said, his voice carrying the full weight of his disgust and sarcasm. "'Cause given the hatred and Thrill-Kill warrant and grudge she has on me, she's so concerned about the lot of you." He passed a droll stare to Thraix. "Take them to temple?"

  "Sell it, little brother. Let's make Mama Samari proud."

  They threw their hands out and used their powers to disarm all ten of them at once--and plant them on their asses.

  Jullien turned toward his true family--the ones who actually loved and supported him. "Put it away. We have actual enemies we need to worry about, and right now, we have to figure out if we still have a way home." He clapped Davel on the shoulder, then hugged Axl, Dimitri, and Gallatin. "Thank you for digging me out and not leaving me behind."

  Axl raked him with a disbelieving stare. "And face my sister without you? What kind of stupid do you think I am?"

  Gallatin snorted. "You've heard her threaten me. Multiple times. Shara scares the snot out of me. Her last words were that I better not return without you. Pretty sure she meant it."

  Thraix narrowed his gaze on Darling as the emperor pushed himself to his feet. "You better be damn glad Trajen isn't here. Hermione's son or not, your brains would have been splintered the instant you took aim in his brother's direction. I suggest you keep a respectful distance and remember that. In this room, we value his life and loyalty. Not yours."

  Darling curled his lip. "Then you're an idiot. Have you any idea what kind of snake you've put at your back?"

  "You know nothing of our brother. None of you do. So if you don't mind, sit down, shut up, and let us regroup." Thraix moved to stand by Jullien. "Is there a way out of here?"

  "Yes, but I don't know if we can make it. I'm pretty sure the whole palace just came down on top of me. We need some eyes on the surface and a line out while we can to let our family know we're alive." Grimacing as pain cut through his entire body again, Jullien took a deep breath. He glanced around their decayed quarters. "The warden used to have an office down here, where he had communications and a monitor. We might be able to use that."

  "Where?"

  "This way." As Jullien headed for it, his mother and father finally stepped forward to address him.

  Biting her lip, Cairistiona stared at him as if he were a stranger she was meeting for the first time.

  Then again, that was exactly what he was.

  "It really is you after all these years, isn't it?" The fact she had to ask that ...

  He gave her a flat, emotionless stare, then lifted it to meet his father's contemptuous gaze, which still judged him as inadequate and lacking.

  There was a time he'd have agreed with his father that he was less than whole. Lacking in a family that loved him. Lacking in decency and intelligence. A heartless bastard who held a blackened soul filled only with resentment and hatred.

  But that was a different creature, a lifetime ago. A different time and place.

  And when Jullien spoke, it was the simple truth that he finally, unequivocally believed and accepted. "Jullien eton Anatole is dead."

  He glanced over his shoulder at Davel and returned to their much more pressing discussion. "The guards also kept spare weapons and ammunitions near a cafeteria in back. We might be able to find some spare ammo. Maybe even some rations that haven't expired. And medical supplies."

  Kelsei finally spoke. "What is this place?"

  Tylie nodded. "Yeah. How did you know this was here? I've never seen it before. Cairie? Have you?"

  "No, and it was concealed in my closet. I had no idea there was a hidden door that opened into anything. It's terrifying, actually, to think someone could have accessed my room and I'd have never known it." She looked back at Jullien. "Did my mother show this to you?"

  A sudden wave of fury blinded Jullien at her question, and ignorance of something they both should have known about. Had either of them taken five minutes out of their self-absorbed, useless days to remove their heads from their asses, they'd have seen what their mother was doing to others right under their stuck-up noses.

  Not just to him, but to dozens of other innocents.

  His breathing turned ragged. "You want to know what this is? Fine." He walked backward toward a cell door that was covered by years of neglect, cobwebs, and rust. Grimacing against both his mental and physical pain, he used his bloody sleeve and fist to rub the filth off the nameplate and room number so that it could be read: TAHRS JUNKIE ASSWIPE.

  He pulled out his blaster and shot the hinges off the steel door, then kicked it in so that it showed the tiny cell that doubled as an interrogation and education room. His blood still stained the wall and filthy thin mattress on the rusted, narrow steel bed. "While you lay upstairs in your drugged stupor under Galene's tender loving care, Matarra, with your guards to watch over and protect you from harm in your opulent luxury, this was where I was brutalized during my youth. Every time you ran to your mother, Tylie, and told her stories about how sorry I was as an Androkyn, or how I embarrassed you and Andaria, this was where I was sent to be reeducated and punished. When you, Father, refused to come get me or demanded that I go to rehab over the drugs my family was injecting in me against my will, this was where I usually ended up. Thank you all for my happy childhood memories. Really. They've only been surpassed by the diligent love and care you've given me these last few years after you exiled me and allowed the Thrill-Kill warrant on my life to stand uncontested and every assassin in the Nine Worlds to hunt me to the corners of the universe, where I've had absolutely no amnesty or haven whatsoever."

  Jullien didn't bother to look inside the room. He knew every fucking inch of the cell where he'd once used his clawed nails to carve his name over and over into the walls. After a while, he'd grown bored with that and had started carving INDURARI to remind himself to hold on, that his days in that cell couldn't last forever. Sooner or later, he'd outlive the bitch holding him in captivity.

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