Blood Charged Read online

  As Ridge walked past the two captains, he caught a snippet of the conversation Kaika and Nowon were engaged in, mostly Kaika. Nowon didn’t seem to talk much unless he was delivering information in a briefing.

  “…totally passionless. Here I am, heading off on a dangerous mission into enemy territory, and it was like he was thinking of someone else.” Kaika played a card. “I know I was. You seen that blond fellow who works at the tea and massage parlor across from the base? The one whose shirt is always unbuttoned? You think all those muscles are from massaging people?”

  Ridge managed to keep from gawking, not so much because of the material of the conversation, but because it was hard to imagine Nowon as a confidant for tales of one’s sexual adventures. Indeed, Nowon merely played his card without responding. That didn’t keep Kaika from giving Ridge a friendly wave, then continuing with the game—and her speculation.

  After he loaded his duffel, Ridge trotted over to his usual flier, climbed up, and unhooked his wooden dragon from its spot in the cockpit. He would need every scrap of luck he could scrounge up this week. Sardelle had been amused—or maybe bemused—by the large prosperity dragon now placed prominently on a shelf above the wood stove, but she hadn’t teased him about it. Later, he had caught a random smile on her face when she looked at it, but that was it.

  The side door of the hangar opened, and Colonel Therrik strode in, a few snowflakes on his shoulders. His gaze darted around the hangar, lingering on Ahn for a second—was he looking for Tolemek?—before he turned to his own team. The captains abandoned their card game and scrambled to their feet, saluting him sharply. Therrik looked like he expected it. He returned the salute with snappy precision, two fingers touching the brim of his hat. Then he gave Ridge a challenging stare, as if he expected a salute from him too.

  “Yeah, we’re the same rank, donkey ass,” Ridge muttered, turning his back to the man and climbing into the two-seater to hang his dragon. He did it quickly, not wanting some teasing remark from the colonel, though it was probably inevitable since they were riding in the same flier.

  “Your people don’t salute, Zirkander?” Therrik demanded.

  Oh, so that was his problem. Ahn was carrying boxes of ration bars, and Duck was dangling head-down into his engine compartment so he probably hadn’t noticed Therrik walking in.

  “Not when they’re busy,” Ridge said.

  “What an interesting style of leadership you practice.”

  “Yes. Want to bring your gear over here so we can get you loaded up?” Not that he would actually need it… Ridge smiled amiably and climbed down the ladder pushed up to the cockpit.

  Therrik dropped his duffel at the foot of the ladder, apparently expecting Ridge to load it for him. Before Ridge could decide if he wanted to comment, the side door opened with a gust of wind. Lieutenant Apex walked in, his face frostier than the winter air. The reason became apparent when Tolemek walked in behind him. Apex strode straight to his flier, snapping quick salutes to the senior officers and Colonel Therrik, but not making eye contact with anyone. Until he reached Ridge, at which point he gave an anguished you-betrayed-me-sir look along with his salute.

  Ridge opened his mouth, an explanation on his lips, but he found himself rammed up against the side of his flier with his heels off the ground and fists tangled in his jacket. Therrik glared, his hard eyes no more than two inches away.

  “What is he doing here, Zirkander?”

  “Apex? He’s a solid pilot and knows a thing or two about dragons.”

  “You know who I mean.” Therrik thrust him against the hull again.

  Ridge was tall enough and solid enough that he didn’t usually get picked up and thrown around, but his attempt to loosen Therrik’s grip and escape was easily thwarted. They were about the same height, but the colonel had doubtlessly spent his whole life hurling people around. His smirk and dismissive snort said it would take a lot more than a wrist twist to elude him. He would probably be ready for groin attacks and eye gouges too. Aware of all the other officers watching, Ridge didn’t try again. He didn’t want to end up with his face smashed into the cement floor and Therrik on his back.

  “The king wanted him,” Ridge said. “You were at that meeting. You know that. You have a problem with his personnel choices, you go talk to him.”

  “I’m in command of this mission.”

  “I didn’t say otherwise.” Ridge might have thought it, but he hadn’t said it.

  “Sir,” Captain Kaika said, walking up. “We’ve loaded all of our gear. Do you have anything except your duffel that needs to go in?”

  Captain Nowon joined her, though he spoke to Ridge rather than his commander. “Sir, the Ramisen Arm Lever would be an appropriate way to extricate yourself in this situation. If you wish, I can demonstrate it for you when we are on our mission.”

  “Thanks,” Ridge said dryly. And how was that supposed to help him now?

  But Therrik grunted and released him. “Just the duffel, Kaika.”

  Therrik stalked away, leaving it on the floor. Tolemek was standing back, a couple of small bags of his own in his hands, and he watched the colonel warily. He had left his white coat at his lab and was back in the hide vest he had been wearing when Ridge first met him, albeit he wore a brown long-sleeve shirt beneath it this time. His trousers were different, too, a dark, sturdy material with numerous pockets. A hand drifted toward one of those pockets now, but the colonel walked out the door without moving toward him.

  “I suppose there’s no point in hoping he’s decided he doesn’t want to come,” Ridge said.

  Kaika picked up the colonel’s duffel. “Which flier, sir?”

  “Mine.” Ridge jerked a thumb toward the rear seat.

  “That’s either noble of you, or you have a masochistic streak.” She climbed the ladder to secure the bag.

  “Both,” Nowon suggested.

  Maybe it was simply a reflection of what he desired, but Ridge thought their tones and presence here meant they might not be Colonel Therrik fanatics.

  “Would you miss him if he didn’t come?” he asked. Ridge wasn’t one to try and get officers to badmouth other officers, but it would be useful to know how much trouble he would have with these two if Therrik… disappeared. He also wanted to know how mission-critical the colonel was. In going through with his plan, would Ridge be jeopardizing everything? He had a hard time believing Sardelle couldn’t more than make up for whatever Therrik could offer the team, but still…

  “Not me,” Kaika said, her legs sticking out of the second seat as she strapped down the pack. “We have a troubled past.”

  Nowon looked up at her wriggling backside, then lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. “Kaika has a troubled past with many men. As for the colonel, he is largely superfluous, assigned to go with us because the king believed we needed an officer with more rank and experience.” Nowon wrinkled his nose. “I’ve spent time in Cofahre, and I know their culture, their history. I can slip unnoticed into any city and disappear, gathering information along the way. Hemelt, the man who was fatally wounded getting the location and details on the dragon blood laboratory, was my brother. He died in my arms. We trained together, came up through the ranks together. This should be my mission, my command.” For a moment, his expressionless face hardened, and his eyes burned with the intensity of an inferno.

  Kaika dropped down beside him, and he found his forgettable blandness.

  Given this new information, Ridge could see why the king might not have wanted to put Nowon in charge. At best, it would be difficult for him to be dispassionate about the mission. At worst, he might risk the team for a chance to avenge his brother.

  “What’s your role on the team?” Ridge asked Kaika.

  Kaika rested an elbow on her comrade’s shoulder. “Nowon’s lover.” She waited for Ridge to arch his eyebrows before grinning and going on. “His wife, his mistress, his sister, his arms dealer, his bodyguard, his slave—I’m trying to forget about that one—and
, oh, once we were circus performers together. That was fun. I’ve worked with other people, too, and on my own on occasion, but I like group projects.”

  “She gets distracted when she’s on her own.”

  “Gathering intelligence from the locals is not a distraction.”

  “Even when it’s done from their bedrooms?” Nowon asked.

  “Especially then.”

  “Colonel Zirkander, Captain Kaika is also familiar with the Cofah culture and mannerisms. She can handle herself in a fight, but her true specialty is installing and disarming explosives.”

  Lieutenant Ahn had been helping Tolemek load his bags into the flier behind Ridge’s, but she glanced over at this statement. Maybe she and Kaika could become good friends and chat about all the ways they knew how to kill people.

  “And Therrik?” Ridge asked, lowering his voice, because the colonel had opened the door. He flicked a cigarette butt onto the ground outside before walking back inside. “What’s his specialty?” Aside from being a gibbon’s ass.

  “Making people dead,” Kaika said.

  “Interrogation and combat,” Nowon said. “What he lacks in mental acuity he makes up for with physical vigor.”

  Kaika smirked at the word vigor. Ridge decided he didn’t want to imagine the situation where those two had been in bed together.

  “Ready to go, sir,” Apex said from the flier at the end of the line. He was pointedly not looking in Ridge’s direction, since he would have had to look in Tolemek’s direction for that too. Oh, this was going to be a happy team of people he had put together.

  Since Kaika was a couple of inches taller than Nowon, Ridge doubted there was much of a weight difference between them. He arbitrarily waved for her to join Duck and for Nowon to join Apex, imagining the two men could have interesting conversations, or at least throw big words back and forth to each other. Duck’s eyes brightened at Kaika’s approach, perhaps an unforeseen perk for him.

  Ridge walked over to Ahn and Tolemek. “I’m hoping you have something for me.”

  “Besides glares for making Tolemek stay up all night?” Ahn asked.

  “You’ve already given me those.”

  “Here.” Tolemek pressed something into his hand, using his body to hide the exchange.

  He was no dummy—he must know exactly what Ridge had planned.

  “Safe flight,” he murmured to them, then returned to his own flier. Ridge waved readiness to his seat mate, and Therrik stalked in his direction. There would be no unforeseen perks for him.

  “Let’s find some clouds,” he announced, then climbed into the cockpit and started the engine. The nerves in his stomach had returned with a vengeance. No one else here needed to start worrying until they neared Cofah space, but he didn’t have that luxury. He had twenty miles to subdue someone known for “making people dead,” and if he failed… Therrik wasn’t going to be happy about the attempt. If he didn’t fail, Therrik wouldn’t be happy about it, either. Nor would the king.

  Chapter 5

  Ridge couldn’t actually feel Therrik breathing down his neck. It just seemed like it.

  He guided the flier off the butte and into the dark sky above the harbor. A cold wind tugged at the wings, but it was nothing like the gales he had faced that night they fought off the pirates. He tugged his scarf up higher and adjusted his goggles, so the draft didn’t swirl in to irritate his eyes. As he rose toward the clouds, he thumbed on the communication crystal mounted to the side of the stick. The people who had questioned Sardelle’s invention—which he had lied about, claiming the crystals had been archaeological finds, similar to the energy sources that powered the fliers—had stopped doing so as soon as they had seen the usefulness of intra-squadron communications.

  “Check in,” Ridge said. “Any problems?”

  Three “no, sir” replies came back to him.

  “Good. Let’s fly up the coast for a ways, check the caves and the other pirate spots before turning west.”

  Nobody questioned his command. It wasn’t that odd of a decision—for all they knew, he had been ordered to make this check before heading out. Still, the deviation from the normal route increased the jangling of his nerves. If Sardelle hadn’t been up there along the coast waiting for him, he might have backed out on his plan. Bending the rules was nothing new for him, but he only did it when he was certain he was right and that he was saving lives. He wasn’t all that sure in this case. At a minimum, he was going against the king’s wishes, and he would hear about that later.

  As they flew north along the coast, Ridge dipped and weaved a little, flexing his wings. This wouldn’t surprise anyone—he was known to do such things “for practice,” which most of the squadron knew was his way of saying it was fun, and it didn’t hurt anything.

  “What are you doing, Zirkander?” Therrik growled.

  He didn’t sound like he was having fun. Good. Ridge had worried the colonel might have delighted in flying; he hoped the man had avoided a naval career because he got horribly seasick. And airsick.

  “Just getting a feel for the two-seater,” Ridge said in his most professional tone and definitely not his I’m-doing-this-to-annoy-you tone. “They’re not quite as maneuverable as the smaller fliers, and I haven’t flown one for a while.”

  Ridge expected a sarcastic response, but Therrik didn’t answer. Silence was akin to agreement, wasn’t it?

  Ridge smiled into his scarf, knowing Therrik couldn’t see his face. He touched the crystal. “I thought I saw some smoke. I’m going to swing through Crazy Canyon to make sure there aren’t any ships tucked into the little coves on the river. Maintain course. I’ll catch up with you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Apex and Duck said.

  Ahn, who was flying off his port wing, looked over at him and made a circle with her thumb and index finger, the approval and all-is-well sign. It was always hard to read people’s faces when they had their goggles on, but Ridge had a feeling she knew what he was doing. They probably all did. Oh, not the part where he hoped to replace Therrik with Sardelle, but the part where he wanted to make the colonel vomit all over himself.

  Ridge pulled back on the stick to do a loop, turning himself and his passenger upside down before corkscrewing down to the canyon. He came out of the spin right before the river mouth, then banked hard to the right, taking them in. He weaved in and out, following the rugged walls, rising over trees, and dipping beneath natural arches that stretched from one side to the other over the river. It was darker than pitch, and he could scarcely see the river, but he had flown through this canyon so many times, he could have done it blindfolded. It was a popular training run.

  “Zirkander.” Therrik sounded sicker than a plague victim.

  “Yes?” Ridge asked brightly.

  “I’m going to—” Therrik broke off with a gasp and a gurgle that sounded very much like a man trying not to throw up. “I’m going to beat your ass into sawdust when we’re back on the ground.”

  “That’s not a very nice thing to say to the pilot who has your life in his hands.” A cliff rose up out the darkness. Ridge pulled up hard, the wheels practically skimming the rock wall. One of the more impressive arches in the canyon loomed above them, leaving a small gap between it and the cliff. Ridge aimed for it, tilting the wings just so. They cruised through with inches to spare. Even without looking he knew Therrik was ducking, because everyone did.

  “Gods kill you, Zirkander! I’m going to—” Therrik’s threat ended in an abrupt gagging sound.

  Ridge flew upside down again, taking them over the arch, then twisting back into the canyon, heading toward the mouth again.

  “I guess I was wrong,” Ridge announced. “All quiet in here. No smoke.” A pile of vomit perhaps, but no smoke. And Ridge would happily clean that out himself and consider the morning a victory.

  “Good to know, sir,” Ahn said dryly.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Therrik said weakly as they flew out of the canyon.

  “Really
? So early in the mission? People usually need to fly with me longer before they feel that way.” Ridge pushed the engine to maximum so they could catch the others.

  Therrik groaned.

  “Listen, Colonel. I’ll make a deal with you. You stop threatening me, and I’ll give you something to settle your gut.”

  “Like what?” Therrik sounded suspicious. Not good. Had Ridge been too eager?

  “Not everyone up here is a natural. We have tablets for airsickness.” Ridge resisted the urge to weave back and forth more times to further sell Tolemek’s pill. By now, Therrik was probably miserable just flying straight.

  “Fine,” the man growled.

  Ridge looked down and pretended to fumble around in the metal first-aid kit snapped in beside his seat. Then he extended his arm over his shoulder, holding out the tablet. Thank Tolemek’s crafty side, he had even wrapped it in foil packaging that made it look like something that had come out of a general mercantile rather than a lab.

  Therrik took it. Ridge kept himself from craning his neck to look back and see if the man put it in his mouth. He did weave a little excessively as he returned to the formation, taking his position at point. Less than five miles to the meeting spot with Sardelle. Ridge doubted Tolemek’s pill would work that quickly, but he could make some excuse and turn back, then catch up with the team again.

  A couple of minutes passed with nothing more than the thrum of the propeller for company. Ridge tapped his thumb on the top of the stick, wanting to look back, but afraid Therrik would be back there, glaring at him, and would get suspicious at being checked on.