Dana Cartwright Mission 3: Kal-King (8 page)

Kieran signed off, clicked the device closed, and returned it to his toiletries kit. Then he brought out a digital injector, and programmed it for a strong, quick sedative. He then stripped off his thin undershirt and hung it on a hook behind the door, emptied the secret pocket in his pants of the coffee carafes, destroying the things with their fingerprints and DNA upon them in the disposal chute. He untied the waist drawstring of his loose caravan pants, letting them fall and stepping free of them, then hung those up as well. Standing naked before the mirror, he inspected his brawny physique for any telltale skin discolorations that might develop into a melanoma.
 

Only the one hand that had been exposed in the robo-cab showed any signs of discoloration. He hoped the short duration of exposure would be safe.

The last thing he needed now that he’d found Dana was to require surgery himself for the painful skin lesions to which Alphans were prone when exposed to ultraviolet-C rays.

He took the injector, struggled for a moment with the idea of telling Dana what he was about to do, then cast the thought aside. She would protest and waste her precious strength. In the end, she would lose the argument. So what point was there to it?

He returned to the spa, to the woman he loved more than life, hid the device under a fluffy robe close enough where he could reach it from within the water, stepped into the spa and slid down beside her, stretching out his body.

His hands sought out her tiny waist and gently pulled her close. Her cheek nestled against his chest just above the waterline, beautiful curls floating on the surface of the bubbling water like a cloak spread wide.

“Kieran,” she whispered, “we need to talk.”

“Shh…” He counseled, drinking in the closeness, before leaning down to kiss her deeply, lovingly. “Rest yourself in my arms, my love…”

She began to weep, overcome with emotion, overwhelmed by all the pain and the loneliness of the past few years. “Thank you…”

He longed for physical union with her, but realized her pain was too great. Later…after the surgery…
 

He thought about when to use the injector, deciding to take a few minutes more to relax.

She seemed so comfortable; he didn’t want to move. Not just now…as he caressed her bare shoulders and kissed her upon the forehead. He didn’t dare offer food before the surgery, but she was so painfully thin.

“What,” she whispered, “what are you thinking? I can’t sense anything.”

“I’ve never seen you so…” he couldn’t find words for it.

“So pitiful?” Dana frowned, “I know, I look a mess.” She started to stir and push away.

“Rest,” he whispered. He surreptitiously retrieved the digital injector and, after coaxing her back against his shoulder, administered the anesthesia.

Kieran wrapped Dana in a lush bath towel and carried her to the second master bedroom, fussing over the injured left leg as he set her down upon the satin sheets. He elevated the leg with one of the spare pillows and tucked the bed sheet about her as she slept. He brushed her waist-length hair and, though it was damp, tried to braid it, but gave up and simply tied it off to the side as she often did.

Then he got up and slid into his pants and a robe, pacing for what seemed like hours, willing the knock on the door and jumping when it finally came.

Three men had arrived in the common room. He went to meet them.

“Your Highness,” Kieran gasped in recognition.

Prince Korwin Kord nodded in his direction, while the two security guards fanned out protectively. “Commodore, I received an emergency medical call and brought my kit. What seems to be…”

Kieran stepped aside and ushered the Alphan Ambassador inside, leaving the security detail in the common room. “It’s Dana.”

Prince Korwin went immediately to work, scanning the injured leg, scowling at the workmanship of the previous doctors. “They should have…” The rest of his comment was lost as the digital injector hissed and the Prince began to surgically aligned the bones in Dana’s leg.

Kieran paced, helpless to assist, profusely thankful to have a competent surgeon answer the call.

“She should never have been walking on this,” the Prince mumbled, after carefully repairing one of the fractures and relocating the misaligned kneecap. He sighed, “These backward planets need a refresher course in anatomy and physiology.”

Kieran scoffed, meeting the Prince’s gaze. “Do you know, Dana read the Alphan A & P text while I was trapped under the rubble when
Stiletto
crashed.”

Prince Korwin shrugged. “She probably memorized it. It is good to have a photographic memory. Dear me, she’s painfully thin.” He ran some scans, lamenting, “And extremely dehydrated. Don’t feed her for at least an hour after the anesthesia wears off, but make sure she drinks lots of fluids. Wean her off these pain meds she’s been using. They’re very addictive.”

Kieran watched as the youngest of the Alphan Ambassadors, an extremely talented surgeon and one of Dana’s academy classmates, pulled the bed sheet over the repaired knee and patted Dana’s shoulder affectionately.
 

“Be careful of sun exposure. This is the worst possible climate for an Enturian/Galaxean/human tribrid, and for Alphans, mind you.”

“I’ll do my best…” Kieran offered, “May I tell her that you…”

“Certainly,” Prince Korwin answered readily. “Glad I could help. Can’t stay, however. Detouring to show Princess Micah the Terrines before The Crossroads Great Conference.”

“An excellent choice,” Kieran responded.

“We have just a few days to relax.”

“Thank you so much, Your Highness.”

They exchanged the handshake of fellow Masters of the Elect, then the Alphan Ambassador opened the door to join his security detail. The three MAT-transferred an instant later.

Start to finish, the surgery took less than an hour; an inconceivably short time to repair what the Tonner III doctors had failed to do.

Kieran went to turn off the spa, and then undressed, so he could stretch out upon the bed beside Dana, cradling her in his arms, closing his eyes.

He murmured a meditative mantra to pass the time. It didn’t calm his racing mind. He had too many questions; the brief glimpse he’d seen from the telepathic link with her only added more.
 

CHAPTER NINE

Dana awoke hours later, her eyelids fluttering, lips parched.

“You slept a long time,” Kieran whispered, brushing strands of hair away from her neck and shoulders. “Let me go fetch you something to drink.” He slid away quickly, going to the wet bar, returning with two glasses filled to the brim of purified water.

“I feel…numb,” she managed, speech slurred, barely aware that she was naked upon the bed.

“Your surgeon just left.” He patted her left leg. “I think he did a marvelous job. Says you must stay off it for a few days…doctor's orders!”

She blinked, protesting, “Not one of the locals…”

“No,” he assured her, setting his glass on the bedside table, and helping her to sip from the other until she was satisfied. “I wouldn’t trust just anyone.”

Dana smiled weakly, “You flew someone in?”

“Ambassador Kord answered my distress call.”

She yawned, then giggled, “PK was here? Why didn’t he stay?”

“Had to leave. He does nice work.” Kieran slid the sheet away from her leg to show her.

“It tingles, but I don’t feel any pain. You might have warned me.”

“You’ve saved my life a time or two. It was the least I could do.” His eyes twinkled and he smiled.

There were frown lines at the corners of her lips. He traced them with the fingers of his right hand. “Oh, Dana, what’s happened to you in the last four years? What brought you to this?”

She stalled, pointing to the glass, drinking more, savoring the wonderful, fresh taste. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She tugged at his hand, urging him to stretch out beside her. Nestled in his arms, she slept some more.

Kieran winced. A stabbing pain in the center of his forehead jabbed him awake. Dana still slept. He slid away, tucking the bed covers about her then padded across the room to the doorway.

As he passed the sofa, the stabbing grew much worse. He sank to his knees on the lush carpet, like a penitent before a Master of the Elect.
 

He’d been on the other end dozens of times — when he was much younger and actively involved in the occult arts. Perhaps Prince Korwin’s visit had triggered this.
 

He struggled into the other bedroom of the suite and entered the meditation ritual, only to find it was his brother standing above him, with Princess Shalee at Janz's side.

Brother?

A flood of images and memories flowed from Janz Macao in the role of Master, to Kieran Jai, the student, along with an emotional plea.
 

Come!

Kieran wept.

Brother?

I can’t. I just found Dana,
Kieran answered.
See!
He sent back a whirlwind of Dana Cartwright’s memories and his own, ending,
I can’t leave her, brother, not just now.

You liar! You promised to be here for me!

Macao violently broke off the connection, leaving Kieran dazed and in a heap on the floor.

The exchange with his brother tormented Kieran. There were no words to describe it. He pulled himself up, desperately struggling to recover his strength, hands quaking, knees still weak.

He returned to the bedroom where Dana slept. She needed him to be strong. He knew he'd betrayed a promise to Janz, and that grieved him.

He used a mastery technique, circling himself with energy. In his mind’s eye, he saw Janz was safe, in a deep, underground cavern, with warm water pools nearby.

Dana, on the other hand, was in jeopardy.
 
She'd risked her life to save him; Kieran could not — would not — leave her this time.

Once again, he slid down beside her, left hand massaging the nape of her neck, connecting in the Alphan way, telepathically. With relaxing kisses, he gently coaxed from her more deep and painful memories.

He looked backward to their last parting, her return to the cruiser
Lancer
,
of the court-martial for the officers accused of smuggling, and the feelings of betrayal.
 

She did not testify, however, against her colleagues.
 

Doctor Francis Calagura, her dear friend, managed to intervene, taking her to Scanlos.

They learned the truth about a genetics experiment gone wrong, of cover-ups and subterfuge. Twelve embryos were carefully crafted, each with tiny differences programmed into the DNA.

Dana learned that each of the twelve was smuggled out of the lab. Those with severe mutations were sent away…some died. Kyoko Dey-Cartwright rescued the first, the only one with perfect, unaltered genes, and took her to Earth, to be raised as the daughter of David J. Cartwright.

Still, the records at Scanlos were incomplete. The sperm and egg donors were merely numbers. The records were resealed. Her mission to learn the names of her birth mothers failed. The Star Service would not grant her the information.

Dana resigned her commission in protest. There were journeys on privateers and tours of duty aboard freighters. Then the offer came to captain the private shuttle for Ambassador Taurian of Tritia, and the explosion aboard
Seraph
. Four years worth of memories…
 

They gave him new insight into the strength and character of the woman he loved. Kieran kissed her again with a passionate fire he’d long kept in check. “The first time we were together, our situations were reversed, my love. I had crashed a shuttle and you nursed my body and my spirit,” he whispered.

The memory never faded — never would — the memory of being pinned in the carnage of the ambassadorial shuttle for hours that seemed like eons. Of feeling hopeless…his hand smashed…his body broken. He’d thought of suicide even as the rescue teams worked feverishly to extricate him.
 

There was Dana, so petite and so daring. She had crawled into the space amid the mangled steel to tend to him. Her strong will and ministrations kept him alive. Back then, she was an ER doctor and surgeon, tutored by her adoptive father, a masterful surgeon of great renown.

Even now the hand that gently massaged her neck still held the memory of the time it took to recover.

“I owe you so much, Dana.”

He kissed her again, thankfully, and slid his body closer, flesh against flesh, feeling excited and aroused. The telepathic link, though superficial, echoed back to him her pleasure as his advances made the fog from the sedatives disappear and the flame of desire burn.

“Why do you tease me?” she whispered, her face pressed against his neck.

“Tease you?” he grinned, “I have only just begun.”

 
He admitted, from the depths of his soul, “I love you, Dana J. I have loved you all these years, with all my heart…”

A rush of energy flowed through them both.

“Say, yes?” he pleaded, pinching the back of her neck a bit tighter. “Be my life-mate? We could do it right now. We could join together and become one — forever…and…always.”

He offered the greatest gift an Alphan male could ever offer.

“You never wanted entanglements,” she reminded, suddenly afraid.

The thought made him wince and he nearly withdrew his hand. “Fourteen years ago, I was not ready, nor were you. Fourteen years ago, we were fools. We’re wiser now. The years have been so lonely. We could be together.”

His kisses coaxed; he felt her yielding. They were so close — so very close — to forming the unbreakable telepathic bond of union.

“I’m not Alphan,” she reminded, with such sadness he nearly broke into tears.

“Oh, Dana!” He let down his guard for just an instant, reaching telepathically deeper, deeper than the pleasure, so very close to the edge of his soul, to that hidden place.

“Stop!” She pleaded, “I’m afraid, Kieran, I’m afraid.”

He withdrew both mentally and physically, obeying her command. To proceed would go beyond rape. He dared not cross that line.