Vertigo: Aurora Rising Book Two (32 page)

With a sigh he sank deeper into the chair. “She was right about everything. This whole war is a setup. I’m convinced of it now. Powerful interests are manipulating us all for their own ends, though God knows what those ends are.”

“What can we do? Much as I’d like to, we can’t pull fully back from the Senecan front. From their perspective the war is still on. If we’re not engaged and alert they’ll have the opportunity to decimate us, and we desperately need every ship.”

“The aliens are hitting them as well, so they face the same problem—” His brow creased, taken aback by the notification on his eVi. Will was requesting to enter? It was hardly the first time his husband had showed up unannounced, but it wasn’t a common occurrence before the war began and even less so since his work life turned insane.

He depressed the lock, allowing the door to slide open. “Will, this is a pleasant surprise.”

Will didn’t look at him. Odd. “Miriam, it’s good to see you.”

“And you, Will. It’s been too long, for which I bear the entirety of the blame.”

“It has, and you were already forgiven. I apologize for interrupting, but I’m afraid this couldn’t wait.”

What did
that
mean?
“What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

Miriam started to stand. “I can leave if you—”

“No, please. It’s better if you stay.” Will’s gaze finally fell to him, and Richard tried to process what he saw. Sadness, regret? But also a firm resoluteness.

“Is the room shielded?”

Richard frowned but activated the privacy shield from his desk. “It is now.”

“Really shielded?”

Dread pooled in his gut; every instinct honed in twenty years of intelligence work screamed a rhapsody of shrill warnings in his eardrums. He forced them down to a dull roar. “Yes,
really
shielded. Will, what is going on?”

He saw Will’s Adam’s apple bob once, then a second time. The muscles in his locked jaw twitched. Richard had never seen him appear so desolate, though he had seen him look so determined.

“You want to end this war.”

“Yes. We need to be able to focus all our assets on defending against these aliens. But—”

“But you need to talk to Seneca in order to do so.” He pressed a small transmitter in his hand, and a holocomm screen burst to life between them.

“Director, allow me to introduce Colonel Richard Navick, Naval Intelligence Liaison to Earth Alliance Strategic Command. Richard, meet Graham Delavasi, Director of Intelligence for the Senecan Federation—and my boss. I believe the two of you have much to discuss.”

PART
III
:

MAELSTROM

“The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire.”

— Marshal Ferdinand Foch

32

PORTAL PRIME

U
NCHARTED
S
PACE

A
LEX WAS LYING ON THE FLOOR
in the center of a cavernous but otherwise empty room.

Caleb’s heart plummeted at the sight of her crumpled body and arrested his forward progress in terror. Then she moved—a tiny, weak shift of her head—and he was again in motion, rushing ahead to drop to his knees beside her.

His hands roved over her body in search of injuries. But though her clothes bore multiple tears, he saw no blood or ripped skin, only mostly-healed scratches. He wasn’t certain he was able to hear above the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears—or because the dragon’s wail
had
blown out his eardrums—and tried to wrestle his pulse under control.

He brushed tangled hair out of her face. “Alex, baby, any chance you could wake up for me?”

At first there was no response. Alarm had begun to creep anew into his chest when she blinked…blinked again…and opened her eyes. Bleary and clouded, confusion flooded them as they darted blindly for several seconds before appearing to finally
see
him; they widened as she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

“Caleb…you’re okay….”

He gathered her up fully in his arms. Tears he refused to allow to fall stung his eyes as he fought to reign in the fervor threatening to overwhelm him. She was safe and it was the only thing he cared about.

Even so, joy and a kind of awed relief bled into the quiver in his voice. “And so are you.”

Her lips found his and crushed them in a frantic kiss, full of tumult and panic and need. He savored the perfect feel of her mouth on his, the perfection which her kiss represented, for everything he was worth. After all, it might be his last.

She gave a muffled laugh. Or it might have been a sob. Or it might have been him. With great reluctance he shifted position enough to be able to see her.

She looked an absolute wreck, hair falling in dirt-streaked tangles from what had once resembled a ponytail, lips parched and cracked, skin blotchy and….

He frowned in concern. “Have you been
crying
?”

She removed a hand from him to touch fingertips to her cheek, then stared queerly at the dampness they held. Her gaze lost focus as she drifted off.

The pad of his thumb ran softly over her jaw. “Alex?”

She jerked a little and offered him a weak smile. “Sorry. I…I’ll explain later. How long have I been here?”

“A day and a half, give or take.”

“Is that all? Do you have any water? My god I’m so thirsty.”

“Absolutely.” He fumbled for the water bottle, unlatched it and handed to her.

She greedily sucked it down as stray droplets spilled along her chin to join tear stains in cutting streaks through a thin layer of dirt coating her skin. Had the dragon dumped her upon the ground outside for her to be dragged in here?

She gave it back to him, then tilted her head hesitantly. “You’re covered in blood again.”

“I really am.”

“Why are you always covered in blood when I wake up after being unconscious?”

“Usually for the same reason you were unconscious, I think.”

A faint twinkle glittered in her eyes, gladdening him more than he would have imagined. “Are we going to have to go through another existential crisis because of it?”

He groaned. “God, I hope not. Can we not?”

“Yeah, we can not. But
why
are you covered in blood?”

“You’ll see.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ll see.”

“All right….” A troubled expression dampened the twinkle as her attention left him to roam around the chamber. The walls, floor and ceiling were the same opaque, frosted glass-like material, but inside they were woven through with hundreds of grooves filled with pale, luminescent light.

“This is…well, almost what I expected. But were they intending on letting me lie here until I starved?”

“You don’t remember anything? Have you been unconscious this whole time?”

Her nose crinkled up, the way it did when she got flustered. “Not exactly. It’s complicated. I’ll explain, I will, but give me a chance to get my bearings?”

“Whatever you need. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He huffed a quiet breath. “And alive.”

She didn’t quite seem to hear him as she drifted off once more. It was probably lingering disorientation.

Without warning she began to climb to her feet, only to waver unsteadily. She reached out to grab his hand, allowing him to help her up. He tried and failed to not cringe in pain at her tight grasp.

She flipped his hand over to reveal a deep, serrated gash cutting through the middle of his palm. “You’re not merely covered in blood—you’re hurt.”

He reached up to run the other hand along her cheek. “It’s fine. I’ll bandage them up once we get outside. Promise.”

“Them?” She clasped the hand at her cheek and tugged it away to inspect it. Eyes anxious with concern met his.

He smiled with as much easy confidence as he could muster. “I’m fine.”

She regarded him warily for another second before letting his hands drop and wandering in a slow circle around the room. “Was there a…
dragon
?”

“There was in fact. Several, actually.”

“Thought I might have dreamed that part.” She drew in a long breath and visibly worked to put herself together. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve a powerful need for some fresh air.”

“I like this idea.” He located his improvised weapon from where it had been discarded in his rush to reach her and fitted it back in the sheath.

“What is that?”

“My sword.”

“Your…is it from my
ship
?”

“Yep.” His shrug conveyed feigned casualness. “What? I had to improvise. Don’t get your panties in a twist, I didn’t chop up any critical systems.”

“Is the handle from my
chair
?”

He grumbled under his breath; it had taken her less than ten seconds to notice. “I said nothing critical, didn’t I?”

She squelched the mild displeasure in her countenance. “Okay. I trust you.”

Not for much longer.
Luckily she had begun hurrying toward the open doorway and missed the flash of disquiet he knew crossed his face. He shoved it away and followed her.

When she stepped outside she careened to a stop. He came up to stand beside her and waited in silence while she contemplated matters.

“You…you slayed the dragon.”

“I did.”

An eyebrow arched at the violence splayed upon the plateau. She canted her head to the side to inspect it at a different angle. Canted it in the other direction. Considered the scene dominated by the enormous dragon carcass.

Finally she gave an exaggerated sigh. “I got nothing.”

“Sure.” He brought his hand to rest on her shoulder with a chuckle. “Come on. Let’s get off this ledge, in case it didn’t live alone. We can take a break in the shade below. I’ll get my hands cleaned up, and you can eat something.”

“Yes. My god, I’m starving.”

“You must be.” If she hadn’t had fluids or nourishment for nearly two days, no wonder she seemed disoriented and unsteady. He retrieved the pack and she followed him down the steep slope until it leveled off at a shaded copse of trees.

He offered the pack to her. “Food.” After she accepted it he pulled the strap over his head and tossed the bloodied sword to the side.

“So the sword’s what you used to slay the dragon?” He nodded as she passed him the med kit from the pack.

“Well that’s very ‘knightly’ of you, but why not simply use a Daemon? Be a hell of a lot easier.”

“A field encompasses this whole area. It repels all active technology, which created a problem.”

“Clearly…” she squinted at the wooded mountainside, a puzzled frown darkening her features “…wait a minute. We’re in the middle of the mountains? We couldn’t
see
mountains where we camped. We have to be at least hundreds of kilometers from there. How did you get to me in a day and a half?”

His chin dropped to his chest.
Time’s up.

He didn’t want to do this. Oh how he did not want to do this.

He finished wrapping the more damaged hand, set the med kit on the ground beside the sword and turned to face her. God, she was beautiful. Hair a tangled mess, clothes torn, lips pale and swollen, skin streaked in dirt. And she was
so
damn beautiful and flawed and perfect.

“I flew your ship to the base of the mountains. The shield blocked it from continuing any farther, so I hiked in from there.”

A tight crease formed at her brow. “What? No, that’s impossible.”

“When the
Siyane
was docked on Romane, I had Mia hack it to grant me full access and flying rights.”

Her irises flashed a pure argent, so bright they resembled the flare of a nova, in what could only be shock doubtless to soon be followed by outrage. “You…you did
what
?”

He forced down the jagged lump clogging his larynx. “I secretly had your ship hacked and acquired myself flying rights to it without your consent. I did it because I knew one day—somewhere, somehow—I would need it to save one or both of us. I didn’t ask you first because I knew you would never permit it. You are insular and controlling and
bullheaded
stubborn and one day it is going to get you killed—but it won’t be on a day I’m with you.”

His pacing had grown furious around the small copse. His voice had started out flat and toneless, but more vehemence crept into each sentence. “And you know what? I’m not sorry. You can hate me if you want, you can believe I betrayed you and kick me out of your life if you must, but I don’t regret doing it. Because I was
right
. And because I was right you’re alive and safe, and nothing matters more to me.

“I would do it all over again, and again if I had to, because it meant I was able to save you.”

A frayed breath ended the screed, heavy with bitterness and sorrow. He had meant every syllable, even if he hadn’t realized all of it until the words spilled forth. Even if it didn’t matter.

She was staring at him with the oddest expression. Whether it was fury or remained simple incredulity for the moment he dared not presume. Her irises now swirled melted silver, hiding her thoughts behind an impenetrable storm.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, only to close it. She pivoted as if to tramp about in a fit of anger…and stopped. Her brow furrowed and unfurrowed several times in succession.

He felt dangerously unhinged. Raw. The emotions he had kept bottled up inside for days so he was able to search for her and not crumble under their weight burst free from the dull ache in his chest to roil beneath his skin, searching for a path forward, demanding an outlet. But there was nothing he could do.

While he would never—could never—harm her he thought he might gleefully harm anything else which came within reach. Another dragon should suffice. In fact, he’d offer a significant fortune for another dragon to show up right about now.