Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest (11 page)

ANGEL AND KIREK jetted into the shuttle bay. Leval tried to raise the shields behind them, slicing off a burst of Kraj fire aimed at the
Raven.
But part of the burst came through with them. Kirek placed a hand on her back and propelled her forward, taking the tail end of the enemy fire. She turned to see an energy surge surround Kirek like a halo.

Stars. He had just saved her life and taken the blast himself, and at the sight of his slumped head and closed eyes, her gut knotted.

Barely keeping her panic at bay, Angel grabbed his wrist and began to reel him closer. “Kirek’s hit. He looks unconscious.”

“On my way.” Frie served as unofficial healer.

But Leval needed Frie at engineering to help deal with the Kraj. “Stay on the bridge,” Angel ordered while she spun, tugged Kirek’s wrist, snagged his pack, and turned off his booster.

She couldn’t have maneuvered the Rystani’s bulk without null grav. But after slowing his speed and ensuring they wouldn’t slam into the bulkhead, she removed her booster and then eased his from his shoulders.

Kirek’s bronze skin had paled. His eyes remained closed, his breathing was shallow. But at least he was still breathing. Placing a hand over his heart, she was pleased to hear a steady, rhythmic beat. Without knowing how much of the blast had struck him, she wasn’t sure what to do next.

If he’d been stunned by a hand blaster, he would come around in pain, nerves twitching. While he’d only suffered a partial hit, and most of the force had been cut off by first the
Raven’s
shields and then his psi, he’d nevertheless absorbed part of a shot meant to take out a starship.

After easing him onto the deck on his back, Angel leaned over him, her concern escalating with every passing second. The longer he remained unconscious, the worse the injury. She wanted to consult the computer for instructions, but at the same time she didn’t want to leave his side.

“Captain.” Frie’s worried voice broke in through the com. “The Kraj have broken off their attack.”

“Did they sustain damage?” Angel asked.

“Yes. We fired several shots, but only one locked on target. We’ve scored a direct hit to their port engine.”

Leval spoke through the com. “Captain, the other ship appears to be retreating.”

“Let me know if there’s a change.” If the Kraj ship attacked again, she had every confidence that her crew could hold their own until she made her way to the bridge, so she had no guilt over staying with the injured Kirek.

He’d told her his psi had been damaged during his long journey. Yet despite his injury, he’d placed himself in danger at the same time protecting her. She feared he’d burned out, short-circuited his mental pathways.

She had no idea if he was in a deep coma or a lighter stage of unconsciousness. As she realized she didn’t know how to help him, panic stole down her spine and froze her.

Do something.

What?

She’d spent time in hospitals—too much time.
Think.
She had to help him. If not for Kirek’s last-second push, the blast would have hit her, too. Now his fate might be in
her hands, and she could do nothing except rock on her heels helplessly and shiver.

Injuries scared the good sense out of her. All her young life, she’d been around doctors, hospitals, and the injured and sick and infirm. In her experience, the doctors had been good only at sending bills. They hadn’t cured her mother or alleviated her pain or even eased her death. The years of disappointment now returned to swamp her.

Once again she suffered the frustration of not knowing what to do. This time she also had to deal with guilt. She’d allowed Kirek to help her. She’d allowed him to stay after she’d ordered him back to the ship. She’d been responsible for his well-being.

What if she’d gotten him killed, the only man who could save the Federation from the Zin? Stars. Sorrow, responsibility, and despair weighed on her shoulders, made her heart heavy.

Gently, Angel opened Kirek’s eyelid. His pupil was large and black, so dilated that only a blue rim showed. He didn’t focus on her. But the white of his eye was bright and clear, and her hopes rose.

She’d recalled some doctor saying that bright white was good, yellowed or bloodshot was bad. Then again, the doctors had mostly been talking about sickness—not injuries—and she could be mistaken.

“Come on, Kirek. Wake up.” She spoke gently but was unable to hold back a thread of anger. She would not have his death on her soul. She’d sat at her mother’s bedside and held her hand as she’d died and all the hopelessness and fury from that moment rose up to choke her. Hopelessness that there was nothing she could do. Fury that her mother’s last words hadn’t been ones of love. “Are you listening to me? Damn it. Wake up right this minute.”

When Kirek didn’t move, she grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t you dare go and die on me.”

“Okay.”

She blinked. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t opened his eyes. Had he
really spoken? Or was she so desperate to hear his voice that she was hearing things?

“Kirek. Talk to me, again. Please. Say something. Anything.”

She didn’t shake him again but instead carefully watched his lips. He said nothing. He didn’t move. But perhaps a tinge of color had returned—or was that wishful thinking?

“If you dare go and die on me, I’ll have to shove your body out an airlock. No one will ever know what happened to you.”

“Liar.”

His lips
had
moved. He was talking.

And insulting her. Damn the man. He was arguing with her, but she was actually relieved to hear his teasing. He might be only half conscious but he still knew how to irritate the hell out of her. She didn’t know why a tear escaped her eye, but she swiped it away with the back of her hand, then glared at him for putting her through an emotional scare.

He opened his blue eyes, and they fixed on her with amusement. “Are you going to spend your entire life pretending that you don’t have a heart?”

He wasn’t making sense. Or perhaps he was making way too much sense. “Thank the stars. You’re alive.”

“You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I don’t want to get rid of you at all. At least not until after you lead me to that planet full of metal.”

He frowned at her. “So your show of concern is all about salvage?”

“Absolutely.” She shrugged as if she didn’t think about his big hands holding her, his full lips kissing her, his teasing voice riling and heating her.

Kirek laughed. “And here I thought you wanted me for my body.”

She grinned. “Oh, I’m a greedy woman. I want that, too.”

When he began to shove to a sitting position and he winced as if in pain, she placed a hand on his arm and let him see her genuine concern. “What hurts?”

“Mostly
…
my ego.”

She didn’t buy it. “Don’t get up yet.”

“You want me on my back?” he teased.

Her worry and upset should have dissipated when she realized he was all right, but along with relief, her frustrated feelings were still swirling in her system. “I need to make sure you don’t topple over and hit your thick skull. I don’t want to have to scrub your blood off my deck.”

He crossed his hands behind his head. “You’re welcome.”

“Huh? I didn’t thank you.” Perhaps his brains were more scrambled than she’d first thought. He wasn’t making sense, and her gaze locked with his.

But his stare was knowing, lucid, and he watched her closely. “Sooner or later you’d get around to thanking me for pushing you out of the way of the blast. Rather than let it eat away at you, I figured we’d get it over with now
…
so we could move on to more important things like you inviting me back to your quarters and—”

“Don’t you ever think about anything else?”

ANGEL HOPED THE Kraj ship was too damaged to bother them again. Although the other ship had followed the
Raven
from the dust cloud, the Kraj had maintained radio silence and had kept just on the edge of their sensor scans. While the Kraj actions made sense if the ship had sustained minor damage, she ordered her crew to keep a wary eye out for trouble. After docking, she had arrangements to make. First she’d sell her salvage then decide which repairs on the
Raven
required immediate attention—not an easy decision. She reminded herself to also add new welding equipment to the list of supplies she needed.

In addition, she required a cover story for Kirek. Although he could fool Dakmar’s machines into letting him past security, Dakmar was a rogue moon where many people were wary of strangers. Virtually no one trusted the computer systems to verify identity and guards manned many of the sensitive areas.

To complicate her problem, she saw no way to hide his massive physique in a disguise. Rystani warriors were the largest humanoids in the Federation, and their bronze skin was distinctive and well-known. While she could alter his hair, eye, and skin color, she couldn’t hide his massive shoulders or his height.

“Perhaps instead of trying to hide me, you should flaunt me,” Kirek suggested during the evening meal.

Drawn from her thoughts, Angel swallowed a bite of sweetmeat, washed it down with a cola—one of her favorite drinks from Earth—and considered Kirek’s suggestion. It was difficult to be rational when he refused to give her a straight answer about his injured psi. When questioned, all he would say was that he was healing. While he’d revealed nothing to indicate if he’d suffered a setback during the Kraj attack, his silence made her suspect he was more wounded than he wanted to admit.

“Flaunt you?” she asked.

“Why not claim I’m your bodyguard?”

She had to admit the idea held appeal. She liked the thought of Kirek staying close. His cover would even provide an excuse for them to share quarters during their stay, and at the thought, her pulse accelerated. The more time she spent with Kirek, the better he looked. She was more than ready to let off some sexual steam that had been building up since their interrupted encounter in her quarters.

She cocked her head, considering his idea. “So where did I find my Rystani bodyguard?”

“Let’s stick to the truth. My crew stranded me on the Vogan ship, and you picked me up. We made a deal. I’d protect you in exchange for
…
sanctuary.”

“Sanctuary from what?”

“Deep space. Without your help, I would have perished on the salvage.”

She drummed her fingers on the table. “That story might work—except for one thing.”

“What?”

“Are you capable of acting as a bodyguard?”

He glared at her.

“You’ll be tested on Dakmar. The beings here don’t fight with honor. You might be expected to kill.”

He glared at her so hard a shiver of apprehension slid down her spine. But when he remained silent, she didn’t stop prodding. “And there’s the matter of your injury.”

He raised one brow but maintained the scowl.

“Your psi.” She said the words softly. “How badly are you hurt?”

Kirek folded his massive forearms across his chest. His blue eyes shot angry sparks, his lips tightened, and if she hadn’t known him better, she would have thought he might have lost control.

“Don’t even try your intimidation tactics on me.” Angel pushed aside her food and stood, glaring right back at him and poking his chest with her index finger. “If we’re in this together, I’m entitled to answers.”

“WE’RE ABOUT TO jump into hyperspace. You should be concerned whether the Kraj will follow,” Kirek said to distract her from her concern over his condition. He would heal—eventually. At least he hoped so. “You should be worrying about—”

“Don’t tell me what to worry about.”

“Captain.” Leval interrupted, “Per your instructions to warn you, we’re jumping into hyperspace. On my mark. Now.”

The
Raven,
with the salvage in tow, left normal space. Without webbing to hold them, Kirek automatically tried to use his psi to activate his suit to lock him to the deck. Webbing was a security measure in case of engine trouble or a collision with another ship—like a seat belt on a skimmer. So the lack of webbing in the dining area shouldn’t have mattered. Except for the first time in his memory, his psi failed. The Kraj discharge had burned out his already weakened mental capacity, and since he’d refused to admit that weakness out of pride, he would now suffer physical consequences. The extraordinary gravity changes began to play havoc with his body mass, picking him up. In less than a second, he’d slam into the bulkhead.

Except Angel reached out and locked her arms and her psi around him, anchoring him. She’d known. She was risking her own safety to help him. Embarrassed that he required protection like a baby, Kirek closed his eyes. The logic of telling himself there was no shame in temporary weakness couldn’t overcome his Rystani training that warriors didn’t accept help from women. Intellectually, he knew differently, but not even his vast experience with other cultures and moralities could overcome the deep conditioning of his youth.

Each second seemed to last a minute, and the minute lasted for an hour. All the while, he kept trying to engage a psi he no longer controlled. Angel seeing him helpless made his infirmity worse.

If not for Angel’s quick thinking, he wouldn’t have had air to breathe. Hyperspace acceleration or the lack of pressure in space would squash him. He would be naked.