Alien (34 page)

“Antibiotics only.” He noted the slight look of displeasure
in her eyes. Maybe she thought he didn’t know the effects of Panacea,
especially on a man in his condition. In no way was he giving her a chance at
getting the baton. As long as he was conscious, she was his prisoner.

“Okay. I’ll get you some water.” She acted as if she
returned the vial to the medical case and dropped that back into the bag.
Curiosity reached a fevered boil. Who the hell was he? He seemed to know
everything about the Paoni ways. Why else would he have rejected the one
medicine that would help him most? Because he knew it would render him
unconscious in order to restore the body and shorten the healing process.

Shia palmed the vial as she walked to the bathroom. Once out
of view, she turned on the sink, got a paper cup from the dispenser and cracked
the breakaway neck on the vial. A glance toward the bedroom and she knew he
couldn’t see her actions. She emptied the vial into the water, knowing it was
completely undetectable, at least in this newest form. Prior samples gave off a
pungent odor when mixed with water, but not now. A sly smile tainted her lips.
Let’s
see just how up-to-date he truly is.
She hid the empty vial under a stack
of towels on the shelf then returned with the cup in hand to his bedside.

She shook two antibiotics from the container and held them
out along with the cup to Kal. “Here, Mister Stubborn, take these, at least
it’ll help with the infection, but it’ll do nothing for the pain.”

His fingers trembled ever so slightly that, if she weren’t
tuned into his every move, she would’ve missed it. The pain had to be unbearable.
He popped the pills into his mouth and she held her breath as he downed the
entire cup of water.
Good, now maybe he’ll get some rest and heal.
Surprise shot through her. Why did she care if he healed? Shia turned on her
heels and pretended to organize the medical kit. So she could kill him without
it feeling as if she took out a wounded animal in an act of mercy. She accepted
that theory as the motivation behind her prior thought, instead of the
possibility that he might even be likable if this were a different scenario
entirely.

“You need to roll over. The entry point of the Pulsar dart
needs to be examined.”

“No.”

“The wound should be cleaned.”

“The Pulsar dart sears the hole upon entry. There is no need
to clean it. It does not bleed.”

“But it can become infected.”

“The antibiotics will take care of that.” He looked at her
through mere slits and she knew the Panacea was taking effect. It was only a
matter of time before he’d be unconscious.

“Suit yourself.” She turned to Dio. “I’m hungry. Care to
join me in the kitchen and keep an eye on me for your friend, while I prepare
something to eat?”

Dio’s stomach growled loudly at the mention of food. “You
bet. It’s been ages since we’ve had a decent meal.”

“Watch her closely, Dio,” he called weakly behind them.
“Make sure she doesn’t poison the food.”

Shia shook her head. “Idiot,” she grumbled under her breath
but Dio still heard it.

“Kal’s not an idiot. Stubborn maybe, but definitely not
stupid by a long shot. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have escaped from
hell.”

Pure admiration laced his words and shone in the younger
man’s eyes—a hero’s worship among thieves. Shia wasn’t sure what Dio saw in Kal.
In her opinion, he was an arrogant asshole, but so were most men as far as she
was concerned.

“How long have you known Kal?” She stopped for a second in
the main room to reset the security system then led him into the kitchen.

“He was already there when I arrived about a year ago. From
what I gathered, he’d been in hell a long time. Doesn’t talk about it though,
but I’ve got a theory.”

Shia walked straight to the refrigerator and stood with her
hand on the handle. The young Sirian had a theory about his counterpart. This
she wanted to hear. “Care to share that theory?”

It didn’t bother her that Dio made himself at home by taking
a seat at the table and flipping on the small flat-screen TV mounted on the
wall. There was something about this young man that oozed likeability, even
though he was a criminal.

“I think he was shafted.” He flipped through the channels
without looking her way.

“How so?” She opened the refrigerator. Maybe if she won him
over, then she could obtain her freedom and his help. Cutting a sideways glance
at him, she doubted she could separate him from Kal. Not with him feeling
obliged for his escape. But what if she promised him amnesty in return? This
she needed to mull over as she gained his confidence.

“Not exactly sure.” He turned his soft brown puppy eyes on
her.

For the first time since this adventure started, she took a
moment to study him more clearly. If she had to describe him, boyish good looks
and charm fit the bill. Long arms and legs hung from his lean frame, which
appeared in need of a home-cooked meal. Shia smiled and he smiled too. She
noted he took care not to broaden his smile and show what she knew existed in
his mouth—sharp canine incisors. Every true Sirian or Dog Star native shared
the same trait.

“Kal doesn’t talk much about his past. From what I gathered
from other inmates, he used to be someone important.”

“Important how?” Shia pulled out a bowl of fresh-cut
strawberries, cantaloupe and grapes and set it on the counter. This was
supposed to be part of her movie-night feast. The sight of his nose crinkling
made her laugh. “Even Sirians need fruit, so eat. Earth’s fruits aren’t too bad.
Besides, it’s a start. How would you like a steak?”

“Now you’re talking.” Dio grinned then popped a grape in his
mouth. After chewing he agreed. “It’s not so bad. But I’ve had grapes before.”

Though she wanted to steer the conversation back to Kal, she
didn’t want to raise suspicion with Dio and have him shut down their little
talk. “I have to admit I overheard you say your grandparents have a vacation
home here.”

Dio’s face fell and his eyes widened. “Uhm, that’s not
common knowledge. I thought you were…”

She held up her hand, cutting him off. “No worries.” She
touched the band around her neck and gave him a comforting look. “Besides, I’ve
got more important issues at the moment than turning in renegade
unnockis
—vacationers.”

The panic left Dio’s face. “I guess you do. Sorry about
that, but neither of us ever wants to end back up in hell.”

His gaze darkened and she noted his incisors lengthened as
if the mention of hell put him on guard. Shia straightened, watching his every
move. Adult male Sirians were known to be able to rip a person to pieces with
those teeth, and in some cases they even produced claws during a fight to aid
in their shredding abilities. She took a breath and did something that went
against her training. She stood on the opposite side of the island counter and
reached for his hand. At least with the counter between them, she might have a
chance if he decided to attack.

“Tell me about it, Dio. What was it like in hell?” Shia
tried to sound as if she cared.

In order to win him over to her side, she hoped it wouldn’t
take too much of this sappy-type of conversation. She knew hell was a standard Kiengir
design set deep in the planet’s core. There was only one other high-security
prison planet, Mars, and it was escape proof. Mainly because no one lived once
they reached its surface. The Kiengir saw to that when they turned it to dust
and stripped it of its atmosphere. The Martians must have truly pissed off the
Kiengir because their whole world was eliminated with one stroke of a Kiengirs’
hand. Yet another example of a Kiengirs’ strength.

“It’s the worst place I’ve ever been. It’s nothing but a
massive collection of caves and tunnels that intertwine throughout the core.”
He visibly shivered and she read the fear and detestation in his eyes. “There’s
no safe haven unless you have someone like Kal at your side. Without him, I
would’ve been someone’s meal. That’s a fact I don’t doubt. The beings down
there are like wild animals, hunting for food and protecting whatever area
they’ve claimed.”

Dio breathed deeply as if quelling his nerves. It seemed as
if talking helped calm him so she didn’t interrupt as she gathered the items
she needed to cook.

“The Adamu think it’s a solid mass of extremely hot metal,
but it’s not.” He shook his head. “That’s what I believed until I was
encapsulated in a port-o-pod, and shot into hell via a direct-connect chute at
the band of holes in Peru. Hell, the name fits. I didn’t think I’d end up in a
prison.”

“What’d you think happened to violent criminals?”

“I didn’t think.” He shrugged. His tone tinged with anger.
“Besides, I committed no violent crime. No one got hurt or killed. I simply
lifted a ring and bam, no trial, no nothing, just straight to hell.”

Shia couldn’t believe what she heard. That wasn’t the
normal. Then again, the intel she read listed him as a thief, who
usually
didn’t land in prison. Their sort were attached to a work detail,
rehabilitated, given a job, then released. This process worked most of the
time. On occasion, there were the multiple offenders who just couldn’t resist
stealing. In her opinion, that category of thieves had a sickness running
through their veins. Was Dio on his way to being one of those? A lifetime thief?
He had lifted her weapons without so much as her feeling them leave her battle
suit.

“Whose ring did you steal and why?” And that’s where she
seemed to have crossed a line with him. Dio straightened in his chair and
leveled a hate-filled stare directly at her.

“That’s none of your business.” He automatically returned to
flipping through the channels.

Shia backed off and busied herself with preparing the food.
Apparently, she’d touched on a sore subject. The moment the steaks hit the
grill pan, she had his attention again. His nostrils flared and she believed
she even saw a hint of drool at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t kidding
about being hungry.

“Could you make it rare?” His voice sounded small and the
look in his eyes was one of pure hunger as he stared directly at the pan.
“Please.”

“I thought the Kiengir jettisoned food and supplies into the
prison on a monthly basis.”

He snorted. “They do. But if you’re not in the right spot at
the right time, you get nothing. It’s first come, first served, screw everybody
else.”

That’s not the way she understood it. According to the intel
she’d read, every prisoner received food, water and clothing—enough to last for
a month if rationed correctly. She placed the rare steak on a plate, turned and
set it in front of him. He couldn’t cut it up fast enough. Shia touched his
wrist, stilling his frantic motions. When he looked at her, she saw the
desperate hunger that riddled his soul and it speared her ice-cold heart. If
Dio spoke the truth—and from the look in his eyes and his actions she believed
he did—then something was terribly wrong with the prison system.

“You don’t have to eat it fast. No one is going to take it
from you. And if you’re still hungry when you’re done, I’ll cook you another one.”

He nodded and appeared humbled by her words. “Thank you.”

The moment she released his wrist, he dove back into eating,
but at a much less frantic pace. Shia poured him a large glass of milk and set
it beside his plate. He simply smiled and kept eating. She removed the bowl of
soup she’d placed in the microwave to heat. She put it, a spoon and a glass of
ice water on a tray.

“I’m taking this to your partner.” She nodded toward the
fridge. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

Shia lifted the tray and headed toward the bedroom. Dio’s
insight into the prison made her ill-at-ease. She knew it ran without any
formal guidance in the actual core. Prisoners were shot into the prison maze
via chutes created eons ago. Each chute was calibrated for a different star or
planet. When they had a prisoner to send, they locked them in a port-o-pod and
sent him on a direct route to hell. Their port-o-pods dissolved upon entrance
into their assigned cell. But according to Dio, there were no cells, just caves
and mazes. How could that be? Prisoners roamed about, preying on one another
and the food packets were not being properly dispensed.
First come, first
served?
This was something she intended to bring up to the High Guard.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her reflection in
the mirror as she passed the open bathroom door in the hall. The black band
stood out against her pale skin as if it were a bright red sunburn. First she
had to get out of the mess she was in. And that meant getting control of the
baton.

Shia entered the bedroom and stilled. The big man had
somehow managed to remove his dirty jumpsuit without any help. It lay crumpled
in a pile beside the bed. Every inch of his massive chest bulged with muscle.
The man had biceps the size of her thighs and his abs had abs. He was ripped
more than anyone she’d ever seen. Heavy-eyed, he sat partially upright, leaning
against the headboard. She’d expected to find him out cold. Guess she should’ve
used two vials of Panacea.

The closer she got, she noted he didn’t move nor did he
speak. Shia set the tray on the nightstand. Leaning, she stared directly into
his semi-opened eyes. A low snore met her ears and she couldn’t help but smile.
The big man was asleep with his eyes open. Probably, a tactic he used to make
other criminals believe he was awake so they’d leave him alone or at least think
twice before attacking.

In as gentle a move as possible, she searched for the baton.
Neither hand held it. Using the lightest of touches, she patted down the
blankets around him.

“Looking for this.” Dio’s voice stalled her actions. Shia
did a slow turn and met his humor-filled gaze. In his hand, he held the baton,
waving it at her.
Damn
. “Kal knew you drugged him so he gave it me for
safe keeping.”