by Kyle, Celia
He had no words. He simply stared at the screen in disbelief, never having seen such idiocy in his long lifetime. Just when he began to wonder who had ordered the military into action, the broadcast switched to a press conference at the White House.
A senior politician held down the podium, fielding questions from reporters. Whelon did not know much about human politics, but he had never seen this male before.
“I do not know much about this—is that the President of the United States?”
“No,” Grace scoffed. “He’s a patsy.”
“What?” Whelon honestly wasn’t sure if he had heard correctly.
“She means he’s being set up to take a fall,” Carla explained darkly. “He probably got promoted from a basic position into some department head this morning. The only official statement is that authorities are investigating the situation and that while that is being done, the military has the power to move on any Preor and their equipment until a final solution has been reached. They have announced there will be a proper political meeting of both sides—a fair hearing.”
“Why would they promote him specifically to take him down?” Whelon was truly confused by humans.
“Because whoever held the job before him values their ass,” Grace told him. “They put in a guy like this, who takes the job thinking he can handle things and come out on top. Then he gets up and sways to whatever opinion is popular at the time, so afterward they can throw him to the dogs and say he was confused, misguided, uninformed, acting without authority… blah, blah, blah.” She shrugged.
Whelon was lost for words once more. He could not believe humans used their intelligence and skills for such horrible ends.
The news flashed to a scene in the city, near Preor Tower. Sasha’s mother stood in front of a small crowd and Whelon shuddered at the sight of the hateful female.
“You all know the horrors that have befallen our beloved Sasha.” Jenna shook her head mournfully. “She is still in bed, recovering from this horrible Knowing sickness the Preor use to bend innocent women to their will.”
She is not recovering, he thought furiously. She is dying!
Whelon sensed his own body growing colder by the moment. He was losing touch with the throb of his heart and the flow of air through his body. Until he claimed Sasha, the Knowing would keep stripping him of vitality. At least he had energy to spare, vast reserves that came from the other half of him being a ten-ton dragon.
Sasha has nothing, no one, he thought desperately. She’s dying on the surface while her mother uses the situation to exploit her further!
Before he could think about it anymore, the speakers buzzed and crackled in a way that made him think of someone clearing their throat.
“Penelope,” he murmured dully.
“Whelon, it looks like Melissa is going into labor. She is only having mild contractions, but Chashan is worried.”
“I can’t get there,” he answered helplessly.
“I didn’t want to tell you… Chashan said…”
“Spill it, Penelope!”
“All right. I think it’s only going to piss you off further, but here we go… Ellie is having complications and Charlie won’t let anyone near her. Dawn is capable of calming the little rat, but right now he and Ivoth are in such a state they won’t let anyone in the room.”
“Curse him for his stupidity!” Whelon growled. “Ivoth should know better!”
“He and the Quasti have melded or something, I’m afraid. They bonded over their protective instincts for Ellie and now are working themselves into a highly agitated state. Dawn can’t handle them both. If she distracts Charlie for a second, Chashan can drop Ivoth with a sedative. Then, hopefully, Dawn can calm Charlie…”
“Hopefully?”
“They can’t do this without another healing master, Whelon.”
Grace and Carla both sat quietly, feeling Whelon’s mounting frustration at the situation. They could say nothing that would help him now.
“I have to go down there, military orders be damned to the stars,” he whispered to no one in particular.
When Penelope didn’t answer, he realized she might be hatching one of her famous plans. She had been known to teleport people randomly… without permission and secretly. He found himself hoping she could come up with a decent escape plan. Every devious little trick she had ever pulled now took on a new light.
“Don’t encourage me,” Penelope whispered. “The military have tapped into our system, but they don’t know me… No one can fucking know me!”
“Penelope, be careful,” Carla spoke up, alarm and worry etched into her features. “They will use a program to evaluate you and maybe even give you a virus to disable you.”
Penelope blew one of her famous raspberries, making the lights blink along with the sound. “They tried. I’ve created a complex shadow system entirely cut off from my mainframe. The virus is happily chewing up dead files right now. Essentially, I’ve filed it in the trash bin and it will be eradicated on the next disk cleanup.”
Grace laughed and even Whelon smiled. He didn’t know why, but the fact that Penelope still fought made him want to fight, too. If anyone could help them now, it was Penelope. Whelon had seen enough of what she could do to have real faith in her—and hope she could get them out of this situation.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sasha watched the hours drifting past, and it felt as if days trudged by. Not long after she had turned on the TV, she began feeling ill. Just like she had when she was little, she found her blankets and pillows and arranged them around the sofa like a small fort.
She had to gulp back tears as memories flooded her. She had done this as a child because her mother never wanted anything to do with her when she wasn’t feeling well. If her illness lasted more than a few days, she would always take her to a hospital or, in extreme situations, hire a live-in nurse.
Sasha had put up her little pillow and blanket fort so she could feel safe. When she was very sick with a fever or severe dehydration, something in her knew her mother would not save her. The fort was for protection when she was terrified. Tears ran down her cheeks as she realized… she had been scared every single day of her life.
Stretching out on the couch under her blankets, she watched the news. It didn’t matter which channel she selected, footage of the Preor was splayed across every single one. It was almost as if the media had been waiting for this since the first moment the Preor arrived on the planet.
Finally, something has pushed it from a quiet rumble to an Earth-shattering roar, she thought. The term earthshaking was not even an exaggeration. The entire planet could be torn apart by this conflict.
Pain stabbed into her belly and she pulled her knees up to her chest, dragging the covers over her head. The sun moved across the room far too slowly and the pain increased by the second. Even though her throat was dry and her lips cracked, she couldn’t force anything down her throat.
After a few hours had passed, her pain continuing to worsen, Sasha’s thoughts turned dark. Her optimism and lust for life was one of the things that drew fans to her, but Sasha was beginning to understand the persona wearing that face was her defense against the cruel prison she occupied daily.
Every morning she put on that bright smile and cheery manner, showing the world the person she wanted to be—confident and strong, not weak and wavering.
Soon, she started to cry, making her feel even worse than before. Her throat was so dry she couldn’t swallow and her eyes felt as if they were full of sand. She wasn’t sure how long she could last like this. Her fear only grew as she realized she could die here, and no one would know.
Mother would blame the Preor! she thought desperately. She would be believed, too! No one would ever know what happened to me!
Her heart thumped in irregular beats, frightening her even further. She knew now that even if she wanted to rise, she couldn’t.
When the front door squeaked, a rush of hope suffused her. It did
n’t matter who was entering the apartment, even if it was her mother. They had to help. Even her own mother wouldn’t just let her die.
“Sasha!” her mother snapped as she strode into the room. “Are you still unwell? Great!” She came around in front of Sash and snapped a few photos. “I was hoping you were still sick. It’s great for the press. You look even worse than before. I can work with that.”
Jenna bent over to peer at Sasha’s face but kept her distance. Sasha looked up dully and wondered if she was actually going to have to beg her mother for help. When her throat gurgled, her mother backed up a few steps.
“Don’t vomit anywhere near me,” Jenna warned. “This is Chanel. I bought it especially for today. Besides, you know I’m a sympathetic vomiter. Have some sympathy for fuck’s sake.”
“Mother?” Sasha could barely speak.
“Yes, princess?” Her mother didn’t even spare her a glance, too enamored with her phone.
“I think I’m dying.”
Jenna looked up in disbelief, eyes wide, and let out a little laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Sasha. You’re ill but you’ll get better.”
“No mother, I’m going to die without my mate. I need Whelon.” She was so weak, the effort of speaking a full sentence made her sweat and shake.
“Sasha!” her mother snarled. “This is bullshit. It’s just a hallucination. I know you think it feels real, but—”
“Mother,” Sasha croaked. “Please help me.”
“All right, I’ll go get a doctor. Then he can tell you that you’re not dying and we can put a stop to this… this nonsense.”
Minutes went by and Sasha wondered if she truly had been abandoned for real this time. Maybe her mother wouldn’t bother to return. She clearly didn’t care what happened to Sasha.
After some time, she became aware that she was being touched very gently and she opened her eyes in a panic, wondering her put their hands on her.
She met an old, kindly face. “Easy there, girl. I’m a doctor.” She tried to respond, but he shook his head. “Don’t talk, dear. Just let me finish.”
He looked her over, taking her vitals, his experienced hands comforting her while he took his readings.
Sasha’s mother stood nearby, tapping her foot. The moment the doctor stepped back, her mother spoke. “Well, what is it?”
“It’s nothing I’ve ever seen,” he admitted. “I’ve given her a couple of shots that would bring an elephant out of a coma, but they’ve had no effect. You say this happened after contact with the Preor?”
“Yes.” Her mother nodded. “It’s some kind of coercion,” she replied cattily.
“Then I strongly suggest you find a Preor healer. They will be able to do far more than me.”
“Not going to happen,” Jenna decreed flatly. “Their magic got us to this point. All they can do is make it worse. I’m not giving them another chance to hurt my daughter.”
The doctor waited patiently for Jenna to finish, packing up his instruments as she spoke. He patted Sasha’s hair and turned back to Jenna. “Miss Dane, in the short time I have been here, your daughter’s vitals have continued to fail. They are on a steady decline. Her heart and lungs will soon begin to slow. Her circulation is poor and her internal organs are suffering. She has no reflexes. I’m not sure you understand the seriousness of the situation. Sasha will die in a matter of hours if we can’t find what’s causing her illness.”
“What the fuck did I call you for?” Jenna screamed. “You were supposed to fix her! What is wrong with you, you undereducated quack! Get out!”
“Miss Dane—”
“Get the fuck out!”
The doctor looked down on Sasha, regret visible in his eyes. He tried one last time. “Would you consider moving her to a hospital?”
Jenna went to protest but then stopped. She stared at Sasha with narrowed eyes and she could almost see the wheels turning as her mother imagined the media circus that would occur if they wheeled Sasha out of the apartment building on a stretcher.
“I might,” she murmured thoughtfully, “but not right now.”
The doctor left. If Sasha had the strength, she would have clung to him and not allowed him to leave without her. When her mother arranged a few pillows behind her, she fell into the same trap again, believing her mother tried to comfort her.
“Thanks, Mom,” she whispered.
“Sweet, just lie back. That’s it. Wow, you’re so pale. Around your eyes you look kind of yellow. Fuck!” Jenna suddenly exclaimed.
“What?” Sasha rasped.
“The light is overexposing the image. It’s blanking out the jaundice. You look almost health for fuck’s sakes. Hey, can you do that barfy look again? I’m on the other side of the table so you won’t hit my suit if you throw up.”
Sasha blinked, feeling as if her body was very far away. The last few comments her mother made didn’t make sense and that was a blessing.
Sasha faded, the blessed darkness the only comfort left to her, and she embraced it with open arms.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Whelon sensed Sasha slipping away. He knew the moment she went beyond even dream consciousness into a far deeper darkness. His heart seemed to fail in that moment. Even if he could get to her now, could he save her?
Would that the heat of my fire could restore your life, he thought sadly. If my death could give you back your life, I would take my final flight right now.
There was a certain lure in taking the final flight, flying as far out of the atmosphere as possible and letting the vacuum of space draw him out, toward the great star. The spirals of far off galaxies would look like the light that slowly died in Sasha’s eyes.
“Whelon!” Penelope snapped. He barely even blinked.
“Get him up!” she shrieked. Even from his far away reverie, he knew that if she had any physical component that could move, she would have kicked him square in the ass.
Suddenly he was yanked upright by a great force. His wings flapped as he opened his eyes, fully believing Penelope had built a huge claw for herself so she could physically shake him.
When his feet hit the floor and the arm on his neck went away, he stared up into Vende’s stern gaze.
“Are you giving up?” the engineering master hissed. “Your mate is dying and you sit here napping like a dragonlet? Is your dragon born of fear and hobbling on weak bones?”
“No,” Whelon could barely speak and Vende shook his head again.
“My mate is down there, too, in the midst of this insanity!” He held in his voice to such an extent that the whisper was almost shrill enough to hit the sound barrier. Whelon knew Vende was about to lose it and if he didn’t hold back his dragon, he’d be dive-bombing Preor Tower in seconds.
“Vende—” he began, but to his shock, Vende punched him in the face.
It was a good hit, right in the jaw and smashing across the cheekbone. Whelon staggered and then gathered himself before charging after Vende. The roar he released echoed down the hallway and several Preor came running to pull them apart.
“Good job, Vende, you got him woken up,” Penelope praised.
“What?” Vende asked, confused.
“Shut up, I’m covering for you, you dick,” Penelope murmured.
Silence reigned for a few seconds as the two males glared at each other. Then they both nodded and stepped together to shake hands, only interrupted when Penelope made the sound of clearing her digital throat.
“Now, I can teleport you into Preor Tower. I can do it sneaky-like… I’ll have to draw a bit of power to send you into the tower, but Vende says the ship can take it. Hey, wait a minute…” There was a moment of suspense when Whelon was sure he could feel Penelope’s cameras actually lock onto Vende. “When you said ‘the ship can take it,’ you meant me. Didn’t you? Did you seriously tell me to ‘take it,’ you oversized lump of testosterone?”
Vende grinned and ran a hand through his thick hair. “But you do take it, Penelope. You take everythi
ng I give you and ask for more.”
“I’m not sure I like this change in our relationship,” Penelope murmured. “I’m going to let it go… for now. Since you are only stretching the ship’s—my—energy stores for the sake of all the mates.”
“What’s going on?” Whelon asked.
“We’re teleporting down into the tower, right now,” Vende answered. “Penelope will hide us so we can enter the tower undetected. There’s really no harm. We might be breaking the rules just a bit, but if we don’t leave the tower, no one will know.”
“I don’t understand,” his mind was a muddled mess of partial thoughts and half-formed ideas. “What’s the point of going to the tower?”
“To help my mate and the others.” Vende shot him an annoyed glare but gave Whelon a moment to remember other mates were in danger besides Sasha.
“Right. Yeah. Charlie.” Whelon shook his head. “We had better get going.”
“All over it,” Penelope announced. For only the briefest of moments they were surrounded by a wall of light and then it cleared. He found himself in the medical lounge near the clinic inside Preor Tower. He took a moment to catch his breath, but Vende came out of the teleport in midair and practically flew the distance to Dawn.
“Shaa kouva…” he cried, but before he could embrace her, she took a few quick steps back.
“Wait, I’ve got the Quasti.” Vende froze, his muscles twitching. “I’ve got Charlie curled around my neck. I managed to sing him into a deep sleep, but I can’t move him. My body is comforting him, keeping him asleep,” she whispered so softly that Whelon could barely hear her words.
Vende shook with frustration and took a few deep breaths before he sank into a nearby chair. “You are safe. That is all that matters, for now.”
“I’ll be able to put him down soon.” Dawn smiled. “They’re just finishing up with Ellie now.”
