Page 116 of Decadence

“We do not know. Neither do they. All transactions were handled through a private shell company. The details have been carefully and painstakingly concealed, but we are working on tracing the ones behind it. That is how humans operate, it seems.”

“Ah, this is starting to get irritating,” Mardok said lightly. “All these infernal shell companies and hidden identities. It’s like we’re going round and round in circles trying to catch a small but annoying insect.”

“Because they are afraid of us.” Ikriss met Tarak’s gaze. The General had been mostly quiet, but Ikriss knew that beneath the silent, inscrutable mask, labyrinthine plans were being conceived. Tarak had a particular genius for envisioning scenarios that Ikriss would never have thought of; he had a talent for calculating probabilities and putting all the pieces into place well ahead of time.

That was why he was the boss.

Tarak nodded. “Fear fuels hatred. And so does thirst for power, and so does desire for revenge. They play from the shadows because they can’t match our firepower directly, but we cannot underestimate our enemies. There are relics of the Ancient Empire scattered throughout the Universe—lost planets, powerful war machines, even individuals who have untapped potential with the ka’qui. I have no doubt they would be searching for them right now.”

“So we should look for them too,” Jerik leaned forward, his orange eyes narrowed; intense.

“I have ordered our navigators to initiate a search operation, but the Universe is infinitely vast, and often these things are stumbled upon by pure chance, not by design. It will be a combination of skill and luck. And the sooner we can find the source of the dissent—before they become too powerful—the better.”

“So this so-called Vordokar is hiding his true identity for now, and biding his time until he can amass the power to match us. And yet he instigates trouble by giving weapons to humans and trying to steal our females from right under our noses… and none of the accomplices we have caught know anything useful.” Tarkun snorted. “Several heads and high lords of the Noble Houses are still unaccounted for. Any one of them—or several of them—could be behind this insurgence. Sooner or later, someone will have to make a mistake. We need to apply the right pressure; wound a few egos, get them to make a misstep. Provoke them.”

“The bait is the human females.” A wily expression flickered across the General’s hard face, so fleeting that if Ikriss hadn’t known Tarak so well, he would have missed it. “And control of Earth is the provocation. We are going to lock Earth down and make it impossible for them to touch even a single hair on a single human female’s head. We will discreetly order the Federation to close Earth’s borders and deny entry to all Nonhumans who seek to trade, visit, or merely even transit through Earth’s borders. Every human female that is off-planet will be recalled. Those that are too far for the humans to reach in time will be tracked down and protected by us.” He bared his fangs. “And when our enemies understand that there is no way for them to get what they want, they will be forced to make a move. Let us see where that leads us.” He turned to Ikriss. “As for the loose ends in New York, I leave it up to you to deal with the situation. Make it airtight, ‘Kriss.”

Ikriss carefully concealed his surprise. The Mating Fever was only just starting to abate—and Tarak was trusting him with a major command mission?

He wasn’t sure he was entirely rational yet. Every time he thought about Sienna—about any harm coming to her—he felt like he could kill someone at the slightest provocation. Like a volatile gas planet seen from afar, his calm exterior hid seething chaos.

Was he always going to be like this?

Did the Mating Fever ever truly go away?

The slightest thought of her also made him terribly aroused. Whenever he saw her; whenever he caught a tendril of her intoxicating scent, he could become horny in a heartbeat.

His horn-buds tingled.

He wanted to claim her right now.

But he was in the middle of a fucking meeting, and they were all watching him expectantly, so he kept his expression carefully composed.

There was no way he could refuse the General’s orders. Tarak was handing Ikriss a gift on a platter; a perfect chance for him to set his Universe right after his short tangle with death.

“I accept,” he said coolly, his voice masking the fire inside him. “I will permanently secure New York and deal with the Ephrenians and the Syndicate as I see fit. And Rexu is mine to punish… as I see fit.” He hadn’t yet decided what he would do with the bastard. Plain old death was too simple and easy. He turned to Iskar. “I trust you are looking into the origins of the Kordolian weapons you found on those human mercs.”

“Naturally,” Iskar replied, showing his fangs. “I cannot sleep well knowing that there is a potential threat of that magnitude to Mari and her people on Earth. Between you and I, we can lock this planet down, and most humans won’t ever know a thing about it.”

Ikriss shared a knowing look with his friend as perfect understanding passed between them. Iskar was only recently mated too; to a feisty blue-haired human female called Mari.

When Ikriss first learned that stoic, stickler-for-regulations Iskar had fallen, he’d been happy for his friend… and a little amused.

Now look where he’d ended up.

Completely obsessed and desperately wanting to protect anything and everything that was remotely related to her.

He could so very easily overdo it if he wasn’t careful.

“So now we are all clear,” Tarak said quietly, giving them all a measured look. “Stick to your assigned operations. Bide your time. If you encounter any activity that originates from this Vordokar, you are to notify me immediately. I will give you immediate orders on how to proceed.” He inclined his head, his pale brows drawing together. “Actually, I will not call this enemy by the name they have chosen for themselves. If we have to give them a name for now, we will call them Krael.”

“Usurpers,” Mardok chuckled. “Or those that refuse to fucking die, depending on your interpretation of the High Kordolian. I like it.”

“Can’t wait to impale me some Krael.” Jerik chuckled deeply, looking immensely pleased with himself.

Ikriss and Tarkun shared a wry but good-natured glance. Jerik had a habit of finding his own humor highly amusing. For one who could that could so damn vicious in battle, he had a surprisingly un-Kordolian sense of humor, but that was Jerik.

In contrast, Tarkun could be stern to the point where one might start to think he didn’t know how to laugh at all.

---