Razor’s Traitorous Heart:
The Alliance Book 2
By S. E. Smith
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank my husband Steve for believing in me and being proud enough of me to give me the courage to follow my dream. I would also like to give a special thank you to my sister and best friend Linda, who not only encouraged me to write, but who also read the manuscript. Also to my other friends who believe in me: Julie, Jackie, Lisa, Sally, Elizabeth (Beth) and Narelle. The girls that keep me going!
—S. E. Smith
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
Science Fiction Romance
RAZOR’S TRAITOROUS HEART: THE ALLIANCE BOOK 2
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2014 by S. E. Smith
First E-Book Published June 2014
Cover Design by Melody Simmons
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission from the author.
All characters, places, and events in this book are fictitious or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations are strictly coincidental.
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Synopsis
Kali Parks is a shadow in the war between two factions that are fighting to gain control of Chicago. Born and raised on the streets, she stands as a silent sentinel at her brother’s side as he battles to gain control. She will do whatever it takes to bring peace to those she has pledged her life to protect, including fighting against the creatures that came to their world almost six years before.
Razor, a High Chancellor for the Alliance, has been sent to oversee the remaining Trivator troops on Earth and make sure the transition for the induction of Earth into the Alliance goes smoothly. He is the one the Alliance calls when they have a situation that needs to be resolved once and for all. His reputation for dealing with difficult rebels is renowned. He asks no questions and takes no prisoners. His job is to eliminate all threats to the Alliance.
He finds himself torn between duty and something he is unfamiliar with, his heart. When a shadow warrior saves his life and disappears, he discovers his world is no longer as cut and dry as he thought. The more he learns, the more he discovers he is not immune to the warrior’s passionate desire to fight to protect her people.
Forced by duty to settle the conflict, he must decide between the Alliance and his own desire to claim the unwilling warrior. When the conflict escalates, he does the only thing he can; he makes a pact with one of the factions in exchange for a prize that will surely cause a battle of a different kind – the one for his traitorous heart.
Will he be able to claim her before she escapes from him again? Or worse, will she sacrifice her life to protect those she loves before he can?
Chapter 1
“Prepare the cleanup,” Razor’s deep voice ordered as he watched the fires burning in the remains of the city far below. “I want reconstruction of the city to begin within the month.”
“Yes, sir,” the male standing behind him replied.
“Was this really necessary?” The human male standing next to him asked in a shaken voice.
The huge Trivator warrior, known only by the name of Razor, stood in rigid silence on the bridge of the observation warship. The advanced command ship was overseeing the demolition of the city below. The human city that was once called Mexico City was now a pile of burning rubble. All life, all buildings, everything had been wiped clean.
Razor had earned his name. He cut through the resistance like a fine scalpel slicing through a life-giving artery. He was brought in when all others failed.
He was one of three High Chancellors for the Alliance and was in charge of the vast military structure. He was also one of the most controversial members among the council. It was his job to oversee the vast number of Trivator troops that made up the security forces of the Alliance. Their job was to initiate first contact, subdue any fear, and establish a safe environment for additional members of the Alliance to begin the process of bringing the new world under their protection.
He was used to the fear when they first made contact with a new species. Most beings soon realized that the Alliance was there not to harm or control, but to help bring them into the larger and often more advanced star systems surrounding them. For young, unprepared planets such as this, it could be frightening and some resistance was to be expected. Still, the humans had been surprisingly stubborn to the point they would rather destroy their world than accept the visitors they had unwittingly invited through the messages they sent out.
Razor’s eyes narrowed on the ruins below him. This was a perfect example of the waste of resources and life. He had no regrets for his actions. The humans below had been warned that the Alliance had reached the end of its patience with those that continued to rebel against them.
The Alliance had finally decided it was no longer willing to waste time and resources to bring the last of the major cities on the planet under control. The rebels were warned to cease fighting and work with the new world government that was established or be erased. Those controlling the city below had refused the twelve hour grace period. Exactly one minute after the deadline, demolition ships began flattening the city.
Razor stared calmly down at the destruction. Since his arrival on the planet six months before, he had already resolved the issues with the rebels on the other side of the world that continued to resist integration into the Alliance. The small rebel groups in Cairo, Paris, and Riyadh had agreed to lay down their arms and the cities were currently being rebuilt. Of course, those agreements had come after he had ordered the Ukraine’s city of Kyiv leveled after rebels there opened fire. He had warned them what would happen. Those that refused to leave at first had fled in desperation as the huge destroyers began demolition of the city. Those that continued to resist died.
“Yes,” he replied coolly to the human representative that had been assigned to the region.
“You should have…” The man began.
“Resistance will no longer be tolerated. It is time to accept that your world is no longer alone in the universe. The Alliance’s decision is final. It is time to rebuild your world and move forward.”
*.*.*
Juan Rodriguez, the new Mexican representative to the Alliance, swallowed as the large alien next to him turned and walked away. His eyes moved to the city where he had been born. It had taken less than an hour for the city to be leveled. The power and precision behind the destruction left him shaken.
His eyes moved to the dozens of large Destroyers that scanned for remains. A shiver of fear ran through him. It was hard to believe it was only six short years since the alien warships appeared in the skies around the planet. Since then, he had moved from being a simple, newly graduated University of Mexico student in Political Science to being the representative for his people.
His eyes clouded as he remembered his passionate plea for peace. He had been shocked when the Alliance heard of him and approached him about being a representative for his people in the New World Government. They said they were impressed with his determination to calm those that
continued to fight, his courage to face his opposition head on, and his willingness to face the council.
“What have we done?” He wondered under his breath as he gazed down at the devastation and thought of the men and women who refused to leave. “They should have listened to me when I warned them.”
Silence was his only answer. Around him, members of the Trivator troops worked seamlessly to guide the command ship over the remains. He glanced at the massive males that towered over his own five foot nine frame. Their bodies were built for killing. He knew from experience that they were fast, agile, and deadly.
His eyes swept over the leader of the Trivators. Razor… no surname… just Razor. He was actually slightly shorter by comparison, if you could call being close to seven feet tall short. There was something about him that made him seem more threatening than any of the others. There was a coldness, a stillness that spoke of barely controlled violence.
Juan turned back to stare down at the fires and sighed. If this is what the man was like when he was calm, he hated to think of what he could do if he ever lost control. He wouldn’t be surprised if the world did come to an end then, this time from the aliens instead of mankind.
God in heaven, he thought as he remembered the cold yellow-gold eyes, I feel sorry for anyone who makes him mad.
Chapter 2
“What was this city called?” Razor asked the human pilot sitting beside him.
He glanced down at the darkened ruins. Cutter, his second-in-command, had given him a report on it, but a new issue on the way to the area had taken priority. He had arrived earlier that day to meet with other members of the Alliance council.
He had been furious to discover the number of details that had been deleted from the previously submitted reports. Badrick, the Usoleum council member who had formerly been in charge of this star system, had a lot to answer for as far as Razor was concerned. Badrick was lucky to be alive after he discovered the bastard had approved many of the falsified reports submitted to the Trivator generals and the council over the past six years.
Badrick’s interference, compounded with his incompetence, was a big reason the Earth was still in such a mess. It was only because most of the evidence was circumstantial that he was unable to remove Badrick and ship him off-world. Badrick had done an excellent job of blaming others for his decisions. It was a slow process, but Razor was working on unraveling the Usoleum Councilman’s lies.
“Chicago,” the pilot responded through the headset. “Colonel Baker is in charge of this area. There are two groups of rebels fighting for control. The fighting has heated up over the past few months. They’ve divided the city in half between the north and south by building a huge-ass wall, reminds me a bit of the Great Wall of China only it’s made out of rubble. We call it the Great Wall of Chicago,” the pilot joked.
Razor didn’t reply. He could see the twenty foot high by thirty foot wide wall that cut the city in half. The ghostly figures of cranes towered over sections of it like silent sentinels in the night. There were dots of light, probably from small fires, glowing faintly in the dark. He silently calculated how long it would take to level the city if the two opposing sides refused to lay down their arms.
“How much further to the base?” Razor asked.
“About forty-five minutes,” the pilot replied.
Razor was silent. He would have preferred to have brought his own transport, but an emergency pickup for several wounded Trivator warriors was needed outside the city. He had ordered his own pilot to assist with the evacuation. The commanding human officer on location had offered the use of their own transport so that he could continue to his meeting with Colonel Baker. A journey that should have taken a few minutes had stretched into over an hour so far.
He slid his finger over the tablet in his hand to read over the report Cutter had given him. A picture of Chicago before the destruction showed a fairly modern city for the level of advancement of this species. He skimmed through the facts. Two men, Colbert Allen and Destin Parks, controlled the region. Intel suggested the men had at one time worked together before splitting. Allen took the southern half of the city while Parks took the northern half. The fighting had intensified over the past six months.
He touched the screen and a new image appeared. Several pictures, taken with a long distance, high resolution imaging device showed several groups of people. The top one was marked as being Colbert Allen. He was a tall, slender male with short blonde hair and cold blue eyes. He was surrounded by several men that reminded Razor of some of the lower class miners and pirates he had encountered during his years as a warship commander. His gut feeling told him the male would not be easily persuaded to lay down his arms.
His eyes moved to the next image. A dark-haired male, shorter than Allen stood surrounded by a group of men who were listening intently to whatever he was telling them. Destin Parks was the direct opposite of Allen, not only in coloring but in his expressions. Concern, intelligence, and something else - Razor enlarged the image so he could study the male’s face more closely. He raised an eyebrow in surprise - sadness - if he had to guess, he would say the male was sad.
A dark frown creased his brow as the shadowy face of someone standing off to the left of Parks suddenly caught his attention. He would have missed the person standing in the shadows if he hadn’t enlarged the image. He touched the screen again to enhance the face of the human.
Shock ricocheted through him as the delicate features of a female came into focus. She had a rounded face framed by short, dark hair. He bit back a silent growl of frustration. She was standing too far back in the shadows for him to make out the color of it. It was either a dark brown or black like his.
Her eyes were focused on Parks. A dark intensity in them told him that her eyes probably were the same color as her hair. She had a small, smooth nose that was surprisingly appealing to him. Her lips were firmly pressed together in a straight line that told him she wasn’t happy with whatever Parks was saying. He couldn’t see what the rest of her looked like as Parks and his group blocked her body. He focused back on her eyes. This time the growl of frustration he released wasn’t silent. Fear and worry shone clearly back at him.
“What?” The pilot started to say before a curse escaped him as an alarm sounded. “Fuck! The son-of-a-bitches have fired on us. Hold on.”
Razor’s eyes jerked up to the primitive display. The tracking of a ground-to-air missile moved across the softly glowing display. His mind was calculating the time to impact even as he was calling out a warning as the dark frame of a crane appeared in front of them. The pilot, intent on using defensive measures to miss the missile coming at them, had swerved to the left and reduced altitude. He tried to correct their flight pattern, but Razor knew the machine they were in would not be able to react in time.
“Brace for impact,” he growled out as the helicopter violently shook.
The sound of screeching metal on metal echoed loudly through the helicopter. He gripped the bar near his head as the aircraft swung crazily around before it tilted and started to fall. He ignored the sickening feeling in his stomach as he stared out the windshield as they began falling toward the ground. His body jerked forward when the tail caught in the cabling of the crane. The straps holding him to the seat strained as he hung face down. He thought for a brief second that he might actually live through the crash unscathed. That slim hope disappeared when the air-to-ground missile struck the top of the crane holding them. The explosion above ripped through the metal, sending small, deadly fragments raining down around them. The hot shards sliced through the thin metal skin of the helicopter. An explosive curse burst from his compressed lips as the jib of the crane crumbled under the heat and weight, sending them plummeting downward. The helicopter rocketed into the remains of a skyscraper. Darkness descended as his head slammed into the windshield.
*.*.*
Kali drew in a deep breath, forcing the cold night air into her starving lungs. She bent over with her hand
s on her thighs, drawing in the clean, fresh air before standing straight and looking up at the stars.
She was near the downtown area tonight. She loved escaping the confining spaces of their current headquarters. She loved being outside. She always had.
She had climbed to the top of the Harrison Hotel Electric Garage. She wanted to go higher, so she walked over to the steel framing that held the partial remains of the sign, high above the city. At over twenty-one stories, it wasn’t the tallest structure still standing, but it was close. She didn’t bother going up to the top of the crane mounted on top of the building. It was a left over from BTA, before the aliens. It was too windy tonight to chance climbing it.
Kali scaled the metal girders holding the lettering of the sign like a monkey. She’d had plenty of practice over the past few years. She didn’t stop until she reached the top of the ‘H’. Most of the other letters had fallen away, but this one still stood proudly against the inky skyline. The letter was wide enough that on a calm night she could stand up on it and raise her arms to the sky. If she closed her eyes as a gentle breeze swept by, she could almost imagine she could fly. Tonight it was too dangerous to stand up. Instead, she contented herself by sitting on the edge and looking out over the city she called home.
“I wonder what it will look like in the future,” she murmured as she gazed out of the ghostly remains. “When Destin reclaims the city, we’ll rebuild it even better than it was before.”
Kali didn’t want to admit in her heart that she was afraid that would never happen. If Colbert… if Colbert was successful in killing her brother and overtaking the northern half of the city, she knew it never would. She lowered her head as she remembered how the young boy she and Destin had befriended as kids had betrayed them in the cruelest way.