CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
KANUZ
The mere sight of the Roth’s gray, swirl-patterned skin makes me see red.
“Come to try your hand with me, Prince?” he asks, malice clear in his gaze. “I’ve always found royalty too soft to do what needs to be done.”
I snarl, smashing my hand against the wall of the cell.
Dergoz’s talons prick my hide as he pulls me away. “You are in no condition to interrogate him.”
“He means to harvest human females from Earth. He does not deserve to share the air we breathe.”
“You are well and truly in a mating frenzy, are you not, Prince?” Alvez asks. “We have sent another convoy to protect the shipment. There is nothing he can do from here to hurt your mate, or any other human.”
“Then he is of no use to us,” I growl, narrowing my eyes at the foul alien in the cage. He’s built similarly to Suevans, big of build, muscle packed on, but that’s where the similarities end. Though quick-healing, the Roth have velvet-like skin closer to the human texture than our tough hides.
“Wait,” the Roth calls out, and something sparks behind him.
“Did you scan him?” I ask, concern building at the small lights appearing at his shoulder.
“Of course we scanned him,” Draz growls. “We followed every protocol and then some.”
“I mean no offense, First Warlord.” I try to keep my voice even, but the words still snap with impatience.
“Wait,” the Roth repeats, and his voice is desperate, the tone unlike anything I’ve ever heard from his species. “I have information.”
“You would sell your Overlord out for your life?” I ask, wary at his sudden change in tone.
“Not for my life.” He shakes his head, his strange eyes glittering with an inner fire. He points at his shoulder.
“It’s a trick,” Alvez snarls.
I am unsure. He seems… sincere. And Alvez is predisposed to believe the worst about the Roth, thanks to his time spent in their fighting pits. Not that the rest of us believe anything good about them, but he has more reason to hate them than anyone.
“This is a tracking beacon,” he says. “My brothers implanted it in me after the first wave conscription. You know of this,” he growls at Alvez. “I recognize you from the fighting pits. You know we were forced to join the Overlord’s cause on pain of death or torture. And yet you are blinded by your madness.”
“Enough.” I shove Alvez back, his eyes burning with anger. “Kanuz is right. Let us listen to what he says.”
“My younger brothers avoided the conscription by being too young to join up. Even the Roth Overlord has limits. Or, he used to. They injected it when I slept, and I left it in.”
“He’s bluffing,” Dergoz declares. “Our tech would have found it.”
“It isn’t regular tech,” the Roth stands, looming in the small cell, pacing back and forth. “It cannot be taken out. They were young and foolish and wanted to know where I was. They keep track of me. And they just activated it, because my ship hasn’t sent them an update in seventeen days.”
“Your young brothers are on their way here,” I repeat slowly. “And you would bargain information in return for sparing their lives.”
He nods once, the muscle in his jaw twitching so hard I can tell giving us just that small amount of information irritates him to no end.
“Check the scans,” Draz says, and Dergoz moves quickly through the doors. “Advise the techs to stand down, wait and watch protocols.”
“This is a bad idea,” Alvez says, shaking his head. “The Roth are expert liars.”
The gray alien slams his hands against the cell wall. “It is not a lie. I lost everyone. Everyone, to the virus. Except my brothers.” His face is tight, and the tips of his hair begin to turn blue, then red… like they’re burning.
I tilt my head. In all my battles against his species, I have never seen that.
“I would die gladly for my brothers. I will tell you what you want to know, and then you can be done with me. Just give me proof that they are safe, and I will tell you everything I know about the Overlord and his plans for Sueva and Earth. I’m dead anyway. Once the Overlord knows I’ve been caught, he would send a team out to finish me off if I ever get off this planet.”
“Small Roth freighter headed inbound,” Dergoz reports, his voice coming through the datapad in Draz’s hand.
“He spoke true,” I say, studying the Roth. “What is your name?”
“They call me Nydo.” He grits his teeth, as though simply telling us that pains him.
It’s a start.
“Tell us everything you can think of, and we will fact-check it with what we already know.” It’s a dangerous game, to deal with spies and double-crossers, but there’s enough on the line that I think it’s worth the gamble. Worst case, he doesn’t give us anything new, or he tries leading us to an easily found out trap. I have confidence in our ability to see through any deceptions.
Best case, we have a Roth traitor in our holding cells and a new insight into their operations.
Draz catches my eye, nodding his head. He’s thinking the same thing.
“We will record our conversation and have our techs fact-checking as you speak. If you lie, your brothers find out exactly how our interplanetary defense tech works. Understood?”
The reddish tinge travels up his hair, over his shoulders.
“What is that?” Draz asks.
The alien slumps against the hard bench on the back wall. “It is a family problem,” he says roughly. “A very old family problem.” He turns to look at us, and his gaze is tired. “What do you want to know?”
Draz rattles off a list of questions, and as pleased as I am that we’re making progress with the Roth prisoner, Nydo, I’m distracted.
I want to tell Gen. I want to see Gen. I wish she were here at my side, helping me make decisions.
Holding my hand while doing so.
“So far, everything is true,” a voice chirps over Draz’s comm tablet.
Nydo watches us with wary eyes, distaste clear on his face. I am shocked he would turn traitor to save his brothers.
I can’t help but think that perhaps there is more to the Roth problem than any of us would care to admit.
We spend the next two hours drilling down information from our newly pliant captive, until the cell wall finally turns opaque, signaling the communication barrier is sealed between us.
Draz fixes me with a knowing look.
“You are distracted, Prince.”
I run a hand through my hair. “I long for my mate.” I purse my lips. “Does it fade? The hunger?”
“It has only been a week or so for us.” He laughs, shaking his head. “But no. I cannot imagine it will. As understandably distracted as you are, you did very well with him.”
I should not need his praise. I outrank him, as a Prince, even though he’s several years older than I and three times as experienced.
“Thank you,” I tell Draz seriously. “I want to do the best I can by Sueva. By all of Sueva.”
“By your glowing female, too, I imagine.” His scarred face twitches, and I can tell he’s holding in a laugh.
“I will not deny it.”
Dergoz, the Brute, makes an irritated noise from behind us. “All you two think about is burying yourselves in their soft cunts. You are both insufferable.”
Draz and I both turn to him, furious.
He bows his head immediately. “Apologies.”
“You would do well to make amends with your wife, Brute,” Draz spits.