He quietly passed his parents’ private suites. His mother was at her bakery, so she wasn’t home. Neither were Codab and Jadel. Gruthep raised his head in his home office where he was working remotely and smiled at Ilid.

  “Is everything all right, my son?”

  “I’m fine. Can I get you anything from the kitchen?”

  “No. I might take a break in a few minutes for a snack, if you want to join me.”

  “I’ll be glad to.”

  His heart warm, but still searching his surroundings, Ilid moved on down the hall toward the front of the home. He hoped he’d eventually be able to stay on his own. For now, he appreciated having a parent nearby. They planned to take turns keeping him company until he felt capable of being alone.

  If only he could keep them safe. Unfortunately, it was out of his hands. Dr. Degorsk was determined Ilid accept the truth. “Can you guard them from shuttle accidents? Illness? Even in the best of times, life has no guarantees. No one can prevent tragedy if it happens. It’s the same where the Darks are concerned, and you’ve already put in your share of worry and effort on that front.”

  Degorsk always made sense. Sometimes Ilid hated him for it, but mostly he appreciated him.

  The young man made his way to the common room, where the vid entertainment system was. He’d heard the rimnastin band Casual Innuendo had uploaded a new concert, and it was as good a diversion as he could wish for. He settled on the vast lounger before the vid and commanded it to switch on.

  As was normal, the system was tuned to the Royal Council chambers. Jadel was a political reporter for the local news affiliate. Even when he was home, he kept an eye on committee meetings, as was being currently transmitted. He re-watched the day’s legislation each evening to ensure he hadn’t missed the smallest nugget of information.

  Ilid opened his mouth to order the system to find the concert just as a councilman rose to his feet to speak to his fellow planetary defense committee members. Ilid’s attention hadn’t been on the blue-robed Dramok, instead on the legend bearing his name…Councilman Terbal.

  In his peripheral vision, he saw Dark draped over Terbal’s shoulders.

  “My father! Gruthep!” Ilid shouted at the top of his lungs.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “There. The same fluctuation,” Hope pointed at the computer’s screen breathlessly.

  “I see it. We have to program the containment to compensate immediately. Or as close to immediately as can happen,” Lokmi said. His fingers flew over his computer keys in their office, part of the guest suite Clan Tranis had put them up in.

  “What did you find?” Piras asked.

  “It was among the theories we considered.” Hope turned to him since Lokmi was running the computations. “There isn’t a jump straight from one dimension to the other, but an in-between area where they overlap. It isn’t entirely stable there.”

  “Which means?”

  “The dimensions constantly fluctuate strength.”

  “Wouldn’t it mean our phase capabilities aren’t stable either?” Kila asked, scowling.

  “We barely penetrate the in-between. We remain so close to our own dimension, the other has no effect on us when we’re in phase. The farther we move from ours, however, the more influence is exerted by the second dimension.”

  “We went by the measurements of the Darks’ dimension, which is what the nanobot Hope sent through reported. The reading it took of the overlap didn’t take the constant shifts in account. Now we can do so and compensate,” Lokmi said.

  “Then the containment will work in the future?” Piras asked.

  Lokmi paused hammering the keys to regard him. “We can program it to shift with the fluxes present in the overlap. It’ll do so in a hundred zeptoseconds, which should do the job.”

  “But?”

  “But you saw how fast the mother organism we encountered at Bi’is left orbit. How fast can the Darks access their dimension? We don’t know. To the naked eye, it appears almost instantaneous. The containment sensors can’t measure anything under a millisecond, so it’s impossible to figure out how quickly Hobato’s rider moved to escape to the in-between when a window opened in the containment.”

  “Fluctuation compensation is the best we can do.” Hope was certain a hundred zeptoseconds was adequate…what creature could think fast enough to take advantage of an escape that closed almost as soon as it opened? But they were dealing with beings beyond their wildest imaginings. She had to admit hers and Lokmi’s best efforts might fail.

  It made her grumpy. To quell the disquiet in her gut, she switched topics when Lokmi resumed his calculations. “How’s Admiral Hobato?”

  “Physically, he’ll be at full strength once they stabilize his blood sugar levels. No additional lingering effects from months of being controlled by the creature.” Piras’ tone was careful.

  Hope took his reticence as a hint Hobato wasn’t doing so well mentally. She could only imagine the trauma he suffered after being consumed by the Dark’s machinations. “Any memories of what he went through? Did he say if others on Kalquor had been overcome?”

  Piras exchanged a glance with Kila. “He heard vague snatches of conversations…he thinks. Most of it’s a blank. But yes, he thought some of the voices he heard weren’t far off. Like Ensign Ilid, he had an impression distances weaken their ability to communicate. Some voices were clearer than others.”

  Lokmi had paused again. “Did he get a sense of who was involved?”

  Kila shook his shaggy head. “He’s still sorting through what little he remembers. He believes those who’re being ridden are in important positions, like his. Recalling who exactly has been taken over is elusive.”

  Piras added, “He’s certain of one thing: they’re undermining the empire in hopes of causing as much disturbance as possible before they strike.”

  Hope’s heart thudded. “When are they planning to attack?”

  “Soon.”

  * * * *

  The Galactic Council is not your friend. It has fallen to the All. Protect the empire and its allies.

  Emperor Bevau stared at the message. He asked his aide, Dramok Erybet, “Did you trace this?”

  “It came from Galactic Council space. Beyond that, I can’t tell you who sent it. Someone who didn’t want it tracked to them, if the erasure-ware blocking my attempts to track them is any indication.” Erybet’s lovely features were drawn in worry. “Do you think this is a legitimate warning?”

  “See if you can raise Secretary-General Mereta on the com. I want to—”

  Bevau’s statement ended in a shout of surprise. Erybet cursed. Both men assumed fighting stances at the abrupt appearance of two men.

  “Fuck!” Bevau yelled as he recognized Admirals Tranis and Piras. “Are you trying to get yourselves killed? I was on the verge of snapping your necks!”

  A pair of Royal Guards shot in the room, blasters drawn. They gaped at the fleet officers, who shouldn’t have been able to walk past the door they’d been guarding.

  “Stand down.” Bevau’s descended fangs showed he hadn’t gotten past his temper. “If they don’t have a good reason for sneaking in phased and surprising me, I’ll kill them myself.”

  “We have very good reason, my emperor.” Piras appeared calm despite having had a blaster pointed at his face an instant before. “The empire is in imminent danger. We think the Galactic Council may have been infiltrated by the enemy force responsible for annihilating the Bi’isils.”

  * * * *

  Jedver, Galactic Council of Planets space

  Mereta released his rider’s consciousness and descended to the depths of his own.

  I am one with creation. Peace stole over him.

  He wondered when he’d summon the strength to overcome his conqueror again. The effort took so much out of him. However, he sensed the venomous All was nearly ready to strike at the Galactic Council of Planets’ members, Kalquor in particular.

  He wondered if Emperor Bevau would take his warning seriously. He hoped he hadn’t sent it in such a way to expose his few seconds of control over himself, during which he put his rider to “sleep.”

  Mereta let the quiet of the power behind the universe soothe the jabs of concern. He’d done what he could. He’d continue to do so until he passed from corporeal life or the All was vanquished.

  If victory over the strange entity couldn’t be had, it mattered little. His faith told him life came and went, as surely as the tides of Kalquor. The universe carried on, unworried about the cares of men.

  I do hope, though. For honor and empire, I’ll continue to fight.

  It’s far from over as the Darks play for keeps. Dark Empire Book Four arrives this spring, and the stakes have never been higher when the Galactic Council of Planets, under the control of the All, strikes at the Kalquorian Empire. Long hidden secrets come to light, threatening love and life at every turn.

  Blythe Nelson is certain Clan Deram is keeping something from her. The clan of spies finds it difficult to stay a step ahead of the wily reporter who’s winning their hearts. What they don’t know is Blythe has a secret of her own. New love can’t survive without trust, and neither side is ready when the truth comes out.

  Dramok Ospar, determined to return to the political stage, strikes up a deal with Royal Councilman Oiteil. Unaware he’s dealing with a Dark entity controlling Oiteil, he finds himself fighting for his honor, his relationship with his clan…and his life.

  The Kalquorian Empire, already struggling against the Darks infiltrating its highest offices, suffers a new blow when it’s revealed it’s keeping a prisoner from the war against the first Earth: Holy Leader Browning Copeland. The schism between Kalquor and its allies grows deeper, setting the empire against the rest of the galaxy.

  As chaos descends on rioting Earther colonies, the Galactic Council of Planets, and Kalquor, a desperate group of humans and Kalquorians race to stop the force behind the turmoil: the Darks. Can they loosen the grip on their worlds the enemy seeks to tighten, or is all lost?

  Dark Empire Book Four

  Revelations

  Border of Galactic Council of Planets Space

  How?

  The question went unanswered. Even the portion of the All that had returned, which it had sent forth to claim the unit in charge of the Kalquorian Empire’s defense, couldn’t answer.

  The All sensed the rest it had emitted from its totality reaching for each other. They linked to combine their small voices to beseech the All. It knew, for though they were distant, they were still the All.

  The All cannot come to you yet. The All is close, but the near capture of that which held the Hobato is an unforeseen danger.

  They’ll try again. It is not good. How do we protect these pieces?

  Few see. Few know. None of the rest are suspected. The All spoke with shaken confidence and focused on what was most important. The Kalquorians invaded our dimension. They are the wrongdoers. We will stop them.

  The small voices asked, how?

  A damning question, had there not been an answer. Concentrate on the Galactic Council. Does the All not hold the most important posts there? From there, I take its members.

  But Kalquor?

  The units most dangerous are identified. They have shown their hand. It won’t take positions of power to kill them. Imdiko Lokmi and Matara Hope Nath of Clan Kila. Matara Cassidy Hamilton of Clan Tranis. They have the means to breach My home and bring their weapons where harm may be done. They die.

  It is good. Spoken uncertainly. The near capture of Hobato’s rider had been a shock, proof the enemy had reached into the dimension where the All lived and ruled…mostly.

  When these threats have been destroyed, our infiltration of the Galactic Council and its members will allow us to turn Kalquor’s allies against them. We have proof of Kalquor’s malfeasance in opposition to the council’s laws. We’ll expose it. Unleashing diseases developed by the Bi’isils on our enemy will increase their weakness. They will fall.

  They will fall. It is good.

  It wasn’t good, but the All was certain it would win in the end. Not as quickly as it had hoped, but its detoured path to annihilation remained clear. Victory despite the interlopers’ surprising counterattack was still in its grasp.

  * * * *

  Alpha Space Station

  Blythe Nelson writhed against the wall she was chained naked to in a room rented for the night, her cries muffled by the gag in her mouth. But for the chains on the wall, the bedroom was upscale, if impersonal.

  Dramok Deram stroked the lips of her pussy, his exquisite model-perfect face inches from hers. His stare was intent as he spread her copious wetness over her intimate folds and clit. Her eager nubbin swelled under his provocation, her pulse throbbing in it.

  “The prisoner is pleased by her captors.” His English had a slight slur of an accent, as did his companions’. They approached to stand on either side of him.

  Imdiko Hadlez was as beautiful as his clan leader was handsome. His boyishly pretty face was framed by long jet-black hair. Bared from the waist up as the rest were, his body was the least chiseled of the trio, but powerful. “Such a lovely captive,” he sighed.

  “Let’s find out if she can be tempted to willing surrender.” This from Nobek Selt. He was stunning in his own right, more ruggedly so than Deram. His heavily muscled chest was typical of a warrior Nobek: criss-crossed by scars that somehow leant him greater attractiveness than he would have possessed without them. Maybe it was the hint of danger he wore like a second skin despite a slight smile that Blythe found so entrancing.

  Selt licked a finger and traced one of her pert, flushing nipples. The wet cooled her flesh in the space station’s temperature-regulated air, but flames stoked high in Blythe’s chest, belly, and sex. Hadlez repeated the action on her other breast, and she jerked uncontrollably. Hadlez chuckled, and Selt growled low and sexy in his throat. They rubbed her small mounds, warming them. Her jerks were in reaction to the fire burning in her, not attempts to escape.

  They played while Deram continued to stroke her pussy, spreading wetness from clit to her back hole. She grew more sensitive by the second at the careful, non-painful pinches to her nipples. At gentle scratches from trimmed nails. At tugs stretching her nipples to reddened points. Her legs moved fitfully in their shackles, held wide apart so she was unable to rub her thighs together.

  To have done so would have banished the knowing fingers stroking her clit, folds, and ass. Deram’s fingertip teased her, barely breeching her clamoring womanhood before backing out. “So soft. So hungry to be loved,” he whispered.

  She garbled a plea. She arched against the rental room’s hard wall when his thick finger invaded fully, sliding in easily. Her plea became a moan as desire shot through her.

  He withdrew, and her ass thudded the wall as she thrust desperately a couple times. Deram popped her inner thigh in warning before using the fingers of both hands to spread her nether lips open. One of those calloused fingers circled her clit, occasionally rubbing over it, She quaked at the enthralling attention, growing further aroused by his firm strokes.

  Endless, exciting minutes passed as the clanmates fondled and teased her. She quivered helpless in her chains. Passion wetted her inner thighs and Deram’s hands. She wondered if a puddle had formed beneath her. Her insides drew taut, every stroke leaving her desperate for the next. She trembled from head to toe, burning for her merciless captors.

  Deram’s fingers, at least three, shoved in deep. At the same instant, his thumb massaged her clit. Pleasure detonated and kept exploding in surges as he pounded, his palm slapping her pussy. The others squeezed her nipples. What should have been pain was sheer rapture. Her shriek was muffled by the gag as climax had its way with her again and again.

  Only the shackles kept her upright. Blythe sagged as Deram eyed her, sucking his fingers and backing away so Hadlez could have a turn. The Imdiko used his fingers too, first stroking through her wetness slowly, then entering her. His gentleness bordered on caution. Despite his care, he was thorough. She writhed as her clit tingled under his attentions, as he built her arousal with leisurely assuredness until she shrieked and jerked in release.

  Selt was deliberately rough, an exciting juxtaposition to his clanmate’s tenderness. His fingers pounded between Blythe’s legs as he loomed over her, whispering filthy compliments about her tight, wanton cunt and how he looked forward to shoving his cocks in it. She came as hard as he used her.

  Afterward, wetness dripped the length of her legs, betraying how they’d excited her. They too were wet and engorged, their eyes lust-darkened. Not for the first time, Blythe wondered how she could be satisfied continuously, and yet still want extra doses of the trio.

  It didn’t matter, because more was what she’d get. Deram approached and unshackled her ankles. The sensation of his firm body on hers was all it took to send heat spilling through her anew. His hardness was between them for a moment, allowing her to feel how like iron his slick cocks were, how fever-hot they were so she felt branded by him.

  Then he lifted her as high as her bound wrists permitted, tilted his pelvis, and lowered her so she was impaled on his eager cocks. He let her weight settle her on him, driving his primary deep in her pussy, his slightly smaller shaft in her ass. She groaned in the thrill of mingled hurt and ecstasy. Her legs wound around his waist, caging him.

  He gripped her ass cheeks and moved her up and down, thrusting in time. Faster. Harder. Her insides clenched tight, seeking to hold him and keep him, increasing the friction on her inner hotspot. Lightning flashed, and she was consumed in bliss. Her scream was muffled by the gag as she convulsed around him. He shouted in return, his primary jolting as his seed jetted in her.