Omega's Binding Read online

  Legion’s gaze took in everything as he was escorted from the vehicle. The landing pad beneath his feet was surrounded on three sides by dramatic cliff face, a plunge that represented nearly certain death. They were far from civilization, if that was even a word that could be used for the poor existence of those who toiled in the lower levels.

  When his gaze lifted to the horizon, he could just make out the subtle shimmer of the energetic barriers that separated the habitable area of Pandora from the toxic wastes of the Forbidden Zone. The border lay close enough that a journey on foot was possible, but channels through the barrier were heavily guarded and difficult to find.

  And running was unacceptable. He would not leave his mate to the machinations of the Undersecretary.

  One of the Guardian Alphas pushed the barrel of his gun between Legion’s shoulder blades, urging him to pick up the pace. He glared back at a face covered by the helmet’s visorplate, only the whites of the eyes visible behind it. His murderous expression dared the other Alpha to speak, to reveal himself in a way that would make it possible for Legion to find him later. The catalogue of wrongs grew in his mind, only the assurance that he would repay any indignity a thousandfold was enough to sustain him.

  Patience, he reminded himself. The time for vengeance would come.

  He allowed them to lead him into the building. Inside it was silent as a tomb, air thick like the place had been hermetically sealed for quite some time. Their footsteps echoed through a large antechamber that was lined with identical doors on multiple levels. Guards stood at sentry positions along the walkways. Even with the helmets concealing their faces, Legion understood that their attention was fully concentrated on him.

  Legion had heard rumors of places like this, where people deemed to be the most dangerous to the security of Pandora were made to disappear.

  A man approached them, dressed similarly to the other guardians but without a helmet obscuring his features. Legion did not recognize the man’s face as familiar, but the inscrutable expression he wore made Legion immediately wary. This man was not afraid to keep his face in the light, which made him incredibly dangerous.

  “Take him to Interrogation Room 237.” The man’s voice was low and gravelly but heavy with command. This was someone who gave orders and expected them to be immediately followed. “I will be along shortly.”

  Legion drew himself to his full and impressive height, looking down his nose at this newest threat. “I am Legion Aristophanes, a full citizen of the nation-state of Pandora, and I demand my entitlement to due process under the law.”

  “You have been declared a threat to the Crown under established martial law. Undersecretary Barnard has signed your writ of conviction in lieu of a trial by tribunal. You will be interrogated for information related to your criminal activity and then executed.”

  The man spoke in a way that was entirely matter-of-fact, his face expressionless. He appeared to have no emotional connection to the death sentence that he had just delivered, neither satisfaction nor concern.

  Legion studied the other man’s face for any hint that he could be swayed, through threats or inducement as either would do, but he found only a bland expression. “And who are you?”

  “I am the last face that you will see before you die.” The executioner’s face did not change as he gestured to the Guardians. “Take him away.”

  Legion reacted in an explosion of violence. His still-bound hands lifted to strike the throat of the Guardian to his left The blow incapacitated the other Alpha long enough for Legion to slip the flexicuffs on his wrists around the man’s neck and then spin their bodies so that the captured Guardian was between him and the weapons pointed his way.

  “Shoot me and he dies,” Legion growled, pulling the cuffs tighter to the Guardian’s throat as the man attempted to struggle. “These suits weren’t designed to take a bullet at close range.”

  The way behind him was clear but over a dozen weapons were pointed at him, the red laser sights sending trails of light through the stale air.

  “This is ill-advised.” The expression on the executioner’s face gave nothing away and it seemed to grow more devastatingly blank with each passing moment. “Resistance will be met with immediate consequences.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  The trapped Guardian made wheezing noises as Legion tightened his grip, effectively garroting the other man. Any tighter and the Guardian’s airway would be cut off completely. The sound of gloved hands tightening on trigger mechanisms echoed through the room. Seemingly heedless of the danger, the executioner stepped forward and regarded Legion with an expression that almost looked like pity. But when he next spoke, his words were perfectly measured.

  “Perhaps you could escape with your life, though the odds are not in your favor. I suggest you release my operative.” The executioner did not alter the monotone pitch of his voice, but the threat was clear. “Your Omega will suffer, otherwise. I can promise you that.”

  Legion hesitated, only for a moment but it was enough.

  A bullet ripped through his shoulder, the sudden pain enough to wring a roar from his lips. Rage built into a near-psychosis as they descended on him. The hostage Guardian’s neck was quickly snapped as Legion mindlessly fought, but his was only the first body to fall. The sound of bones breaking punctuated the roars of and grunts of the many Alphas fighting for their lives.

  He was shot twice more, both in non-critical locations. Clearly their orders were to keep him alive for interrogation. Legion fought with a fury that would have been no match for a handful of Alphas. But there were enough Guardians present to eventually overpower him, finally using their combined weight to force Legion to the ground and beat him with riot batons to within an inch of consciousness.

  And the executioner simply watched the melee, face expressionless. When a beaten and bloody Legion was dragged before him by the dozen of Guardians it had taken to subdue him, the executioner betrayed no emotion.

  “Interrogation Room 237.”

  A trail of blood followed as Legion was bodily dragged towards one of the many identical, metal doors. He was brought inside the room and dropped on his back into a metal chair that angled him up to face the overly bright light glaring down from the ceiling. Heavy shackles weighed down his arms and legs, locked in place by the Guardians with the speed of much practice. Plastic electrodes were strategically placed on his forehead and scalp with long wires connecting them to a small black box, covered in dials and switches, that sat on a metal table.

  The executioner took a seat at the table and pulled the box closer, briefly examining it.

  “Bandage his bullet wounds to staunch the bleeding,” he murmured to the Guardian who secured the last of the restraints. “He shouldn’t be alive for long enough that infection will be a consideration.”

  Slowly the room emptied of only the two of them. Legion attempted to focus on the other man through eyes that had nearly swollen shut.

  “Do you recognize this device?” The executioner asked.

  Legion gurgled a response through a jaw that was likely broken. The words he spoke were nearly unintelligible but full of clear invective as he cursed the other man.

  “We call it the Neurokinin Apparatus Mark 4. It’s my own invention. Those cathodes are attached along specific sensory locations within the cerebellum. Based on the settings inputted into the device, I am able to mimic physical sensations without any actual damage being done to your body.” The executioners voice had grown more animated. Clearly whatever pleasure he derived from inflicting this torture momentarily overshadowed his emotional control. “For example, let’s say that I wanted to hold a hot poker to the sole of your foot.”

  Searing hot pain rocketed through him, the kind that would normally be accompanied by searing flesh and irreparable injury. Legion looked down at his own body, expecting to see blackened and curling skin. But he remained intact despite the burning pain that scorched every nerve-ending. The machine create
d the sensation of torture without inflicting actual harm. The device was diabolical in its simplicity.

  The executioner flipped another switch. The raging pain receded as quickly as it had raged to life, leaving Legion gasping for breath with heart racing as his body tried to calm.

  “True torture is antiquated. Individual response to physical damage is highly variable and subjects so often die before you’re done with them. With this device, I can inflict any physical torture imaginable and you will continue to draw your next breath for as long as I desire you to do so.”

  And that unwelcome sensation of fear returned to curl through Legion’s belly, overshadowing his anger and even the thirst for vengeance.

  “Of course, there are downsides.” the executioner continued conversationally. “The mind will always break before the body. Let us hope that you are as resilient as you seem to think you are.”

  A fresh wave of pain consumed his senses. No longer burning, it felt as if dozens of knives were being slowly pushed into his gut. The agony moved so deep, coiling around his spine and seizing his lungs that he momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

  “I have many questions and you will answer them. You will reveal to me the key codes to disabling the failsafe protocols of your network. You will give me whatever information that is needed to control the air processors.“ The executioner turned a dial and the pain receded, leaving only an abiding emptiness in its wake. “An insufficient or unhelpful response will result in significant pain.”

  Legion would not bring himself to beg, not for his life or for anything else. Swollen and bloodshot eyes filled with the hatred, fear and pain that he would not give voice to as he regarded the executioner with a steely gaze. His silence said more than he ever would. He would never submit.

  “I do enjoy a challenge.” A brilliant smile crossed the executioner’s face as his fingers hovered over the controls. “Now, shall we begin?”

  Chapter Three

  Ianthe had never seen an actual detention center before, or the courtrooms contained inside its sky-high walls. The skycar that had dropped her off was the only means of escape from this place. And escape was unlikely in the extreme.

  The Undersecretary had detailed for her all of the ways in which she would be tortured if found guilty, an outcome that he seemed to consider a near-certainty.

  To her relief, the terrible man did not accompany her within the detention center. Instead she was flanked by two indifferent Guardians who steadfastly refused to answer any of her questions or acknowledge her in any way aside from propelling her forward.

  Inside, the detention center was less unpleasant than she’d imagined. It was also entirely utilitarian, all gray concrete walls and shiny metal floors. Even more dramatic than that was the deep and abiding silence that suffused her every pore. Guardian Alphas moved almost entirely without sound, their suits designed for covert action. Her own feet were still bare after being ripped from Legion’s compound without warning so she did not even have the sound of her own footsteps to keep her oriented to reality.

  The Guardians led her down a long hallway full of identical doors with no obvious markings to distinguish them. Ianthe assumed that his place was intentionally meant to be confusing. Every turn seemed to lead to the same place.

  They stopped at a door that was no different from any of the dozens of others that they had already passed. One Guardian moved forward to push it open while the other herded her forward.

  Instead of the courtroom that she had imagined, the Guardians led her to a brightly lit and empty room that was barely large enough to fit a single chair. The walls were impossibly white in a way that was nearly blinding.

  Without a word of instruction, the door shut behind the two Guardians and she was left alone.

  Ianthe briefly examined the room, at least what little of it there was. Four walls and no windows with only the small metal chair at the center of the room that appeared to be bolted to the floor.

  Ianthe perversely wondered if there was going to be a trial at all. Perhaps she had already been found guilty and this was her punishment, to be trapped alone in a room with bright light and deep silence to driving her slowly insane.

  Sufficient air pumped into the room from a small purifier unit set into the furthest concrete wall from the door. But she still felt claustrophobic as if every breath contained thinner air than the last. She felt as if she were slowly suffocating, in a way that would take days or weeks to bring true death.

  Bare feet sliding across the chilled floor, Ianthe approached the purifier to inspect it more closely. She had not forgotten that Legion controlled the air processors in the entirety of the city. And he’d made it abundantly clear that he was the only person on the planet with the ability to keep them operating properly. If he refused to allow Central Command access to his mainframe then eventually anything being pumped out of those units would be purely toxic.

  And in this airtight room, with no windows or escape, she would be among the first to die.

  Before she could contemplate that long enough to start panicking, a strange noise began emanating from the walls around her. It started as a light hum that thrummed along her skin but quickly progressed to something bass-deep and booming that threatened to burst her ear drums and shook her to the bone.

  Ianthe squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught, hands rising to claw against her skull as the overwhelming sound assaulted every nerve-ending. Her knees collapsed beneath her and she nearly fell into the chair that was the only stable surface in the room aside from the unyielding metal floor. She wanted to die or disappear, just to make it all stop.

  Just before it seemed she would lose her mind completely, the sound abruptly ceased. In the deepening silence, Ianthe slowly opened her eyes. The light had brightened to the point that it briefly burned into her eyes.

  The concrete walls were gone, replaced by robed men sitting in rows all around her. They wore the garb of government officials and all seemed to be staring at her with equally blank expressions. She did not need to look closely to know that all of them were men. Women were rarely allowed to preside over courts of law and the sheer size of them made it obvious that this court was made up exclusively of males, Alpha ones at that.

  She looked from one to another, mouth hanging open with surprise. They were close enough that she could practically reach out to touch them but when she did, her hand stopped short on an invisible but obviously present barrier, likely the concrete walls of the holding cell that she had never left.

  There was a slight wavering in the air if she stared at one spot for too long. She was looking at a hologram. None of these men were actually inside of the room with her. That realization was only a small comfort.

  “State your name.”

  Her gaze snapped to the man who had spoken. Unlike the other robed officials, he was dressed completely in white and sat alone on a raised dais directly in front of her. His face was cast in half-shadow and his dark eyes seemed to be staring directly into her soul.

  “State your name,” he repeated, voice sharp.

  “Ianthe ban Sarrin.”

  “You have been brought before this tribunal to answer for charges of dynamic concealment. What plea do you enter?”

  Her mouth opened and closed without forming any intelligible words. Fear was not the precise word that she would use to describe the emotion washing over her, but it was a close approximation. Sheer terror would be closer. These men stared down at her as if she were a particularly interesting specimen that they had discovered on an excursion to the Forbidden Zone. She saw no trace of any kindness in the faces that surrounded her.

  The head judge glared down at her as if each second that passed was an inordinate waste of his time. “What plea do you enter?”

  Cold seeped into her skin from the metal of the chair, the thin dress that she wore little protection against the freeze suffusing her bones. Her body ached as she held herself stiffly in place, as afraid to move as she
was to speak. What was there for her to say? Admitting the truth to this collection of imperious Alphas would do little more than seal her fate.

  Ianthe had been given no time to prepare herself. First, she’d been threatened and accosted by the horrible Undersecretary, then she had been thrown in this room with not even a word of what to expect. She didn’t even know if this would be the extent of her trial, with no advocate or ability to defend herself. Would it be a straight line from here to the work camps if she were convicted?

  It was the knowledge of that deep unfairness permeating every aspect of society in Pandora that finally moved her out of impotent fear and closer to righteous indignation. Ianthe made the decision in that moment that would change the course of things. She was not going to allow these men with their ornate robes and supercilious expressions make her feel worse about herself than she already did. As and unwilling Omega, she had spent her entire life hiding the truth about herself. She had been bonded against her will with a man who stood accused of the most heinous crimes imaginable. But she would not allow herself to be broken now.

  Shoving aside her fear, Ianthe stood up on her chair so that she was on the same level as the head judge. With the hologram on the walls, he appeared to be standing only feet from her but in reality he could be miles away.

  “I plead guilty.” She enjoyed the brief look of shock that crossed his face before more words spilled from her lips. “I am guilty of dynamic concealment, but the fault is as much yours as mine.”

  The Alpha’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at her. “This is a court of law...”

  “Look at how you treat Omegas. I had no choice but to hide myself for fear of what might become of me. Legion ripped me off of the streets without concern for my wishes. And other Alphas do similar things every day. Hiding my dynamic was the only option that I had available to protect myself and my family.”