Feeling powerless was hard for me. Hard for anyone, I supposed. Right now, I had to wait for Fiona to work her science and for Shade to finish fixing the ship. Kids were scared and suffering, but there was no way to rush to their aid like I wanted to. The only thing I could do for now was get Fiona more blood.
I had to wonder why the Dark Watch hadn’t set up a quarantine yet. Usually, the military was quick with things like that. For all his faults, I didn’t think the Overseer actually wanted disease to spread like wildfire throughout the galaxy. We had to hurry, because before too long, they were sure to cut the orphanage off.
Needles and blood bags.
A chill skittered down my arms, ending in a shudder. I rolled my shoulders and shook out my neck.
With lunch, I hadn’t only been delaying. I’d needed to eat, drink, and digest a bit before doing this, or else five bags of blood could knock me out. Hell, they’d probably knock me out anyway. Jax sometimes donated blood when we were in the Fold, since that was where so many of our injured ended up, and it was usually just one bag at a time, with donations once per week, even for a big, strong, healthy man like him.
I knew I was different. I could give more. Even as a kid, it had usually taken three or four bags before I’d felt my head spinning out of control.
With detached efficiency, I locked myself in the lab and set everything up, putting the blood bags out in a row so that I could just switch them without taking the needle out. I pulled a rolling chair over to the lab table and sat. I didn’t bother with disinfecting my inner arm or with a tourniquet this time. I was highly resistant to infection, and there was no way I could deal with that tight rubber band around my arm for the amount of time this would take. Strangely enough, that sticky, pinching, constant pressure was the part of this whole process I hated the most.
I inhaled deeply, trying to unravel some of the knots in my stomach.
Here goes…
I stuck myself—and missed.
Fuck. My hand shook. The air in here tasted like metal and death.
Muttering a curse, I got up and opened the whole series of doors again, renewing the air in the sealed-off lab attachment with the fresher air from the rest of the Endeavor. I stood at the entrance and kept watch, hoping no one would come this way and wonder why in the name of all the Powers I’d laid out a syringe and five empty blood bags.
No one showed up at the back of the ship, and after six minutes and thirty-two seconds of wide-open doors, I began the process of sealing them all up again. It smelled and tasted somewhat better in the lab now, but when I punched in the lock code and the final door barreled shut with a hydraulic whoosh, I still felt like a coffin had just slammed down its lid.
I took two steps before abruptly turning and going back to the lock. I changed the code to something I thought Jax could guess. It felt too stupid to lock myself in here and draw five bags of blood without the possibility of someone being able to get into the lab if I didn’t come out.
I went back to my grim setup and tried again, overcoming my jitters with concentration. It was a physical effort to steady my hand as well as a mental one. Like the previous time, I got my blood flowing on the second try.
A dull lump of panic thickened my throat as I leaned back in the chair, trying not to look at the plastic bag that was slowly inflating with blood. It wasn’t terrible to watch. It was actually kind of mesmerizing. But I closed my eyes and pictured open spaces instead. Quickly, that turned into picturing Shade Ganavan with his lush mouth all tangled up with mine and his big hands covering my breasts.
Daydreaming about Shade and steamy, urgent grinding and take-me-now kisses up against a dark wall helped distract me and pass the time. I kept an intermittent eye on the level of the bags as they filled up, so I’d know when to switch. By the start of the fourth bag, I felt like utter crap, and even remembering the hot, sexy slide of Shade’s tongue against my night-chilled skin didn’t help. I started breathing faster but felt lethargic. My heart pounded, trying to circulate my reduced blood.
Halfway through the fifth bag, I felt myself really going south. I pulled the needle from my arm, capped off the bag, and collapsed back. My vision darkened, and that was that.
* * *
I woke up with drool on my face and a painful crick in my neck. I wiped off my chin with a hand that shook. After a moment of blinking at the harsh overhead lighting and fighting the urge to vomit, I reached for the bottle of water I’d left on the table next to me. I was hardly able to close my hand around it, and unscrewing the top was a challenge I hadn’t anticipated, one that left me panting and almost falling straight back into another nonnegotiable nap.
Once I finally got the cap off, I drained the bottle one slow sip at a time, working through the nausea that kept roiling up. Every second that passed made me more and more desperate to get out of the sealed-up metal box, but I needed to replenish my fluids first, or I risked not even making it through the first door, let alone the rest.
The next twenty minutes turned into a personal challenge in mastering the anxiety I always felt when I was shut inside a closed space but not flying. This time was made even worse by being light-headed and weak and having an actual locked door between myself and the rest of the ship.
Nevertheless, I sat there slowly rolling the now-empty bottle between my hands, listening to the cheap plastic crackle and staring rather blindly at the rows of temperature-controlled shelving units holding the enhancers.
Part of me wondered if I should blow them up. I couldn’t decide.
Eventually, I felt steady enough to get up. My head spun as though it were orbiting my body instead of attached to it, but I didn’t fall down. Deep breaths helped chase away the sparks and floaters dancing across my vision. I gripped the edge of the table for balance, still dizzy as hell. I probably should have sat back down, but getting out of the stifling room was starting to feel like a priority I couldn’t ignore. I swallowed hard, gearing up to move. The moment I was able, I gathered the blood bags and stumbled out of the lab attachment, locking it again behind me.
I somehow made it to Fiona’s domain, dragging my feet and keeping a heavy hand against the corridor wall. In a small miracle that saved me from having to explain why I was barely upright, she wasn’t in her lab. Maybe she’d finally remembered to eat something. I stuck the already sufficiently cooled blood in her refrigerator and left her a note. It was hardly legible, but I didn’t have the energy to try again.
Before I left, I took a bottle of water from Fiona’s stash but didn’t open it yet. One foot in front of the other, woozy step by woozy step, I made it to my room. Thankfully, my personal sanctuary had been intact again since Shade’s first visit to the Endeavor, when he’d fixed the hole in my bedroom wall. There was still a shit-ton of construction noise coming through the hull, but I didn’t care. I curled up next to Bonk and put my arm around him.
It felt so good to lay my head on the pillow that I snuggled into it like I used to when I was a kid and my only real worries were why my father scowled at me the way he did, used me like a blood dispenser, and fought so much with my mother. I hadn’t liked it, but I also hadn’t known anything else existed until Mareeka and Surral took me in, just like they took in all the strays of the galaxy.
I smiled. Just like Susan with her cats.
It hadn’t been all bad in the Overseer’s opulent but prison-like home. Mom had loved me and done her best to protect me, and we’d had some good times with Uncle Nate before he’d become Captain Bridgebane to both of us, even in private, just like he’d already been to everyone else.
He’d eventually closed himself off to us, hardly visiting his stepsister or her apparently mutant daughter anymore. Even an ex-hooligan from 17 could finally buy into Dad’s crap. Mom had been really sad about that.
I yawned, wishing so many things had turned out differently—and not just for myself.
Bonk started purring, and sleep hovered close to my thoughts, trying to overtake them. A few fought back.
It was going to be really hard to spar with Shade tonight, but I wouldn’t miss it for all the worlds.
Also, he wanted to show me some moves? I knew at least one of us was hoping they wouldn’t be limited to self-defense.
Chapter 16
Shade was gone by the time I woke up, and Jax told me I was supposed to find him at his shop for our “workout,” which he of course said with narrowed eyes and a huge amount of disapproval in his voice.
I didn’t mind, and I didn’t try to argue Jax into changing his. I loved that he looked out for me. He wouldn’t get all growly and sullen if he didn’t care, and if he had been doing something that worried me, I sure as hell wouldn’t have held back. But Jax never really did anything stupid, or at least potentially stupid, like I sometimes did. The only thing that bothered me was how he spent so much time stuck in the past and never, ever planned on leaving it behind him.
As the elevator tube sucked me down to ground level, I knew I looked okay on the outside because I’d fancied myself up a bit before leaving, but I still felt like crap on the inside. My head spun with any sudden movement, and if I hadn’t wanted to see Shade so badly, I’d have thought better of this whole plan and gone straight back up the Squirrel Tree to bed.
But my heart beat harder at the thought of him, and my skin tingled with an electric attraction I wanted to explore. If I only had a few more days in Albion City with Shade, I didn’t want to waste them in my own bed. If he was game, I wanted to spend them in his.
On the way to Ganavan’s Products and Parts, I stopped and ate a steak and a mix of mostly unidentifiable greens and nuts. I didn’t feel much better after eating, though. In fact, I felt nauseous again and even worse.
I moved slowly after that, making sure I wasn’t going to be sick before showing up at Shade’s place. Digestion finally did its thing, the queasiness passed, and I trudged on, popping a breath freshener into my mouth a block away from Shade’s building and sucking on it as I walked.
Shade had left the shop lights on, but the door sign said Closed. I knocked, and he showed up quickly to let me in. My pulse sped up at the sight of him, making me feel slightly breathless as I stepped inside. He didn’t say anything, just opened the door and then closed it again, locking it behind me.
I turned, and our eyes met. Then I took in the rest of him. He looked hot as hell, dressed in a black T-shirt that pulled tight across his broad chest. It somehow made his eyes look lighter instead of darker. Simple, dark-gray workout sweats hung low on his lean hips. They were tied with a double knot. Just as with decoding locks, I was good at unraveling knots.
Slowly, I backed toward the counter with the register. Desire pulsed through me. Sparring sounded like fun, but really, I just wanted to rip off Shade’s clothes.
Shade prowl-walked me straight into the counter until my lower back bumped against the cool surface. He made no move to cage me, but I was definitely caught. Anticipation whipped through me. Did this mean we were skipping the training? I was perfectly fine with that.
“Fuck it,” he muttered, cupping my face in his hands. His honey eyes hit mine just long enough to make sure I was okay with a kiss before he lowered his mouth to mine.
Heat detonated inside me. I lifted my hands and held on to his sides, kissing him back in a way that said I was totally on board and wanted more, more, more. I angled my body into his, greedy for the feel of him. The kiss deepened, and I licked my tongue into his mouth. Shade groaned, the sound deep and resonating. It sank into me and tugged hard between my legs.
We both went a little wild after that. His reaction made me feel as if I might have skills, even though I’d only ever had one partner, and that was a long time ago. It was hard to remember anything about that teenage fumbling in the dark with Shade’s hands in my hair, his mouth on mine, and his big, solid body pressing me up against the counter. Shade was a man, not a boy. The feel of his erection against my lower belly set my body on fire. I wanted him inside me. I was desperate to feel him everywhere.
I slipped my hands under his shirt. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go up or down, so I just stayed there, my hands at his waistline, my fingers pressing into his warm skin.
Shade finally lifted his head and stepped back, his eyes bright and his breathing hard. “Let’s go downstairs,” he said.
I nodded. I really hoped downstairs had a bed.
Shade brought me through an office situated behind the counter and cash register. At the far side of the room, we took a metallic staircase that curved downward in a tight spiral and led into an immense basement. It was bright, the lighting so severe I had to squint at first—and as masculine and functional as a place could possibly get.
Disappointment washed through me. It was a workout space, with mats, weights, a few machines, a pull-up bar, and a big black punching bag with BRUISER written down the side in bumblebee yellow.
My eyes landed on a closed door beyond the mats. Unless…
“Do you live here?” I asked.
Shade nodded. “Over there.” He tilted his head toward the door I’d noticed.
He didn’t go that way, though. He crossed his man-cave gym to a tall cupboard, opening it by flipping a series of numbers on an old-style combination lock.
Apparently, we were exercising, just not in the way I’d hoped.
“Nice gym.” It smelled a little sweaty down here, but not too bad. I glanced around. The equipment was good quality, even if it wasn’t all state of the art. It was still a hell of a lot better than I could afford. “Needs some cats.”
Shade chuckled. “Noted.” His brown eyes flicked to mine.
It was a relief that some of the tension had broken, but my mind wasn’t really on workouts or cats. Shade’s totally unapologetic erection still taunted me from under his loose pants, making me want to wrap my hand around it and squeeze.
Shade, however, got straight down to the business of working out. He set two bottles of water on a low bench and then rummaged in his cupboard, moving things around. He dropped a pair of padded gloves by his feet and then tossed me a smaller pair that he dragged out from farther in the back.
I held them against my chest. They were heavier than the last boxing gloves I’d used, but the training gear in the Fold wasn’t always the best. Standing there across from Shade, performance anxiety suddenly struck me. I hadn’t gone any friendly rounds in a ring in at least two years. I’d been too busy doing other stuff.
“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to,” Shade said. “I will, just in case I accidentally get too rough.”
So the padding was for me, not for his hands. I couldn’t decide if that was sweet or patronizing. Maybe a bit of both. At least he’d seen something in me that had made him believe I could spar, and that we weren’t starting from scratch.
“You think I won’t land a punch?” I challenged.
He grinned. “If you do, you’ll want those.” He thumped his chest. “Hard as a rock.”
I laughed, although there was nothing false about that.
Shade bent to take off his shoes before stepping barefoot onto the large square mat. He pulled on his gloves, securing them in place as he moved toward the center and started loosening up.
I followed his lead, setting my socks and boots aside—and whoa, my head swam when I straightened back up. I blinked silver streaks from my eyes as I tugged on the gloves, using my teeth in the same way Shade had to secure the second wrist strap. When I felt steady enough again, I walked out onto the mat.
“You want headgear?” Shade asked.
“How about nothing above the neck?” I said.
“Didn’t plan on it, starshine.” He started bouncing on the balls of his feet and throwing easy punches at the air to warm himself up. Sadly, his hard-o
n seemed to have disappeared, and kissing looked like it was off the table—for now.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I did some limbering up. He was fast and smooth, undeniably strong and fit. Shade seemed pretty easygoing overall, but there was obviously a born warrior underneath. Or one of those alpha animals. There was an innate dominance about him that he didn’t really show off, but that he didn’t downplay, either. It was just there, a part of him.
And he threw a wicked right hook.
I wouldn’t have wanted to be on the wrong side of him in a fight that wasn’t just for some training fun. There was no doubt about it; he would kick my ass. I was no pushover, as I’d had to prove a time or ten on the Mile when Jax hadn’t been around, and I could get the jump on someone when I tried, but my strong suits were blending in, getting in and out of places undetected, and giving the galactic goons the slippery runaround.
Shade moved into kicks, and even just for warm-up, the strong pivot of his bottom foot and the hard snap of his kicking leg made his roundhouse look lethal to me. Cage fighting had been outlawed, but it still happened on some of the seedier spacedocks, and Shade Ganavan could probably have made a fortune at it—as long as he didn’t mind having a few of his features rearranged.
The man I was falling for was powerful and skilled, and I liked the idea of having a top predator showing me how to better defend myself. Truthfully, I needed the training. I had a few good moves, but when they didn’t work out, I could easily end up at a loss. Run really fast wasn’t always a solution, either, and I had two years in prison as proof of that. It would have been a lifetime if other people’s bad luck hadn’t turned into my good fortune.
Shade could obviously be as big a bruiser as his punching bag, but I wasn’t worried about him using his strength against me. My thoughts just kept veering off in other directions—like how much safer every day might feel with him watching my back.
I blinked hard. Stop it.
Nightchaser Page 17
