War Bride (Battle Born #7)(41)

“The oldest was five, maybe six. The others around four and two.”

He sighed. Six years wouldn’t be long enough for Arton to work through his bitterness? Another pang of sorrow compressed Kryton’s heart, but determination soon swept it aside. “I don’t care how long it takes. I will help him through it.”

*

Kryton had been involved in countless missions that were much more complicated and dangerous. So why was his pulse pounding? He knew the answer, but couldn’t allow himself to think about why this mission was so much more important. He and Tonn were in position on the south side of Rainforter Boulevard. Slightly staggered from where they hovered, Jafftin and Rondar waited on the north. Both teams were in compact shuttles with camouflage shielding. The reflective panels fell short of true invisibility, but allowed any vehicle to blend with its environment.

Skyla sat quietly in the second row of seats. Her behavior had been exemplary ever since they left Lux Manor. Still, she was another distraction Kryton couldn’t afford.

“Here they come.” Tonn motioned to the skimmer speeding along the road. As promised, Arton sat beside the pilot and two guards took up the second row of seats on the open hovercraft. There were no other vehicles and no air cover. The harbingers had grown careless, or overconfident. Kryton didn’t care which. He was happy to take advantage of their arrogance either way.

He’d instructed Jafftin and Rondar to remain at the ready, but only intervene if he and Tonn failed to incapacitate the guards.

The skimmer rapidly approached their position and Kryton carefully targeted the power pack and navigation with his forward blasters. He had to immobilize the craft without blowing his son up in the process or catapulting him into the lake. Using a minimal power setting, he shot three fast bursts into strategic areas of the skimmer. Sparks flew into the air and the hovercraft careened out of control.

“Move out,” he shouted, already out of his seat.

Ignoring the three stairs which they’d lowered a short time before, Tonn jumped out of the main hatch and nimbly landed on the ground.

Kryton followed suit, charging the skimmer as it smashed into a nearby hill, violently jarring the passengers. The guards recovered quickly and leapt to the ground, pulse rifles drawn. Tonn focused on one while Kryton took the other. Kryton’s guard got off the first shot, but the pulse went wide. With steely determination, Kryton aimed his pistol and shot, sending a narrow stream of energy into the guard’s chest. The guard screamed and his eyes rolled back in his head. His rifle dropped from his hands half a second before his unconscious body collapsed.

Tonn had even better luck. He dropped his guard before the man managed to fire a shot.

Rondar and Jafftin rushed forward, ready with restraints. Confident that the situation was under control, Kryton turned back toward the skimmer. The pilot stood to one side, looking rather dazed. But Arton was nowhere in sight.

“Shit!” Kryton looked up and down the road, then toward the lake, but still saw no evidence of his son.

“He ran into the trees,” Skyla called as she dashed off in the same direction.

Sprinting after her, he easily caught up to her slower pace. Why had Arton taken off? It didn’t make sense.

They heard the sharp snap of tree branches and an alarmed yell. Kryton ran even faster. He crashed through some underbrush and nearly trampled Arton, who now sat on the forest floor. His knee was bent and he rubbed his ankle, fear and mistrust burned from his silver-ringed eyes.

Kryton faced his son, holding both hands up, palms showing. “We’re here to help you, son. There’s no reason to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid and I’m not your son,” Arton snapped, his hostile gaze shifting to Skyla then back.

“Arton,” Kryton tried a softer tone. “Look at me. It’s been a very long time, but you know me.”

Rather than responding to the request, Arton turned his head toward Skyla. “Who are you and why has your image haunted my dreams?”

She moved slowly forward until she stood beside Kryton. “My name is Skyla. I’m your father’s morautu.”

Arton scoffed. “I was born to my father’s morautu. You are not my mother.”

Kryton sucked in a ragged breath. The harbingers hadn’t told him about his mother’s death? Now, after a twelve-year separation, he had the dreaded task of informing his son that his mother was murdered.

Before he could pull himself together enough to speak, Skyla took control of the situation. She stepped closer, then knelt in the dirt at Arton’s side. She didn’t touch him and kept plenty of space between her and the hostile young man, but now their eyes were on a level.

“I’m very sorry to inform you that your mother has passed beyond.”

He could no longer see her face, but her voice was soft and compassionate.

Arton looked at him then back at Skyla. There was no outward reaction to the news. Instead, he asked, “Is he really my father?”

“Yes. We’ve come to take you home.”

Another scoff escaped his son and Kryton cringed. He never even considered whether or not Arton would welcome the rescue.

“I’ve been at the academy for most of my life. Why change things now?”

He started to defend himself, to tell Arton all the times he’d attempted a rescue, all the strategies he’d tried, but Skyla gave him a mental nudge.