* * * *
Within minutes the ships were in space, flying at the fastest speed for Saalm. Inside, the Saalm medics were setting up for operating.
Elyse opened her eyes a fraction, pain burning through her body, but she had to see. She had to make sure she had gotten Shaque from the fire.
Turning her head a little, blood slipping free from her nose and mouth, she looked across to see Shaque lying on the table on the other side of other medical cabin.
The medics were working fast, swiping his injuries, operating instruments already placed on the tray beside one of the medics. A machine blipped in the corner, and she didn't know exactly what it recorded, but whatever was happening, it couldn't be good. The medic watching it was grim.
Something touched her skin, cool, and she looked back up to see Byron bending over her. His face was grim, but his eyes were gentle.
She opened her mouth, tried to say something, and couldn't talk.
"Rest,” he said. “Conserve your energy."
Her clothes were already cut away, a sheet draped across her hips for modesty but otherwise she was naked. Her chest was a mass of injuries, blood and soot coating everything.
She had to tell them. Had to tell them, had to make them understand.
One of the medics was washing the filth from her, baring her injuries to their assessing gazes. Orders were clipped out, trays of instruments appearing. Gloved hands picked up instruments, other gloved hands washed and opened, probed and filled gaping injuries.
A machine blipped in the corner and she dimly became aware of several tiny dots on her—one above the heart, one at each temple.
She tried to reach out but couldn't lift her hand. She looked around, movements sluggish. The lights above her blurred, dimmed.
Opening her mouth, she tried to speak, tried to force the words out.
A big hand touched her cheek, and Byron's voice came from far away. “Rest, Elyse. We'll take care of you."
"Shaque...” The words bubbled up with blood. “Save him..."
And then she didn't know anymore as the whirling vortex of pain overcame her and she fell into a pit of blackness.
* * * *
Fire burned. Space pirates raiding his home, taking his sister before his eyes, dragging her away. They'd tried to take him, too, but he'd bitten one of the space pirates, felt the blood spurt from the calloused hand.
The pirate had dropped him, kicked him in the head, stunning him. Air raid sirens were going off in the distance, and someone shouted about Peacekeeper pursuit crafts approaching.
The space pirates had run, leaving him lying almost unconscious on the ground. But he could see a little. His sister held in the arms of a big pirate, but not gently. She was screaming and screaming for help, calling his name.
He thrashed on the ground, tried to get up.
Pain, so intense, spearing through him.
Someone held him down, he didn't know who. He couldn't get up, couldn't try and save his sister.
"Nerissa! Nerissa!"
Then the spaceship was gone, his sister never to be seen again. His parents lying dead not far away, he could see the blood coming around the door, his mother's empty eyes as she stared towards him.
Her features blurred and dimmed and then there was nothing.
* * * *
"Failure. Lost soul. So many mistakes. You're a failure Elyse, a failure!"
"Take her back to the Outlaw Sector. She's useless to me."
Waiting in the cold rain, watching as a space pirate ship landed and rough men came down the ramp. Dragged up, throwing inside. Left in a small cabin, but not alone.
Another little girl with big blue eyes and blonde hair huddled in a corner.
Elyse looked gravely at her, and the little girl started sobbing.
Elyse knew about loneliness. Her best friend was still in the fortress with the big shuffling things she called brothers and sisters, and with the cold-eyed man called Shari, and the veiled lady called Madam.
Walking to the bunk, she sat down on it and looked at the little girl again. She wasn't much older than she herself. Elyse didn't know what to say how to offer comfort, so she simply smiled, just a little, and sat further back on the bunk and waited for the little girl to speak.
She never said a word, but after awhile, she moved closer to Elyse, until finally they sat shoulder to shoulder, silently looking at the door.
Little girl.
Shaque's sister.
Shaque...
Blood everywhere, burning, an inferno. The woman, the little girl all grown up and dead, beckoning to her. Wanting her to follow into the raging fires, to find Shaque.
Blood, blood everywhere. Ragged breathing, so shallow. His heart stuttering.
She gathered him to her and ran for the wall, the flames searing her legs, bursting free.
And they were there, men circling her, wanting Shaque.
They can't have him.
They can't have him!
He belongs to me!
Mine!
Mine!
Pain and blood and she couldn't help him, but she could protect him.
Protect him with her life!
* * * *
She roared in her head, but only a whimper came from her mouth.
A cold rush in her veins, then darkness dragging her down.
* * * *
Burning pain. He couldn't escape the pain. It followed him until it suddenly slipped away into nothingness, and he floated in a haze.
At one time he thought he saw a glow ahead of him, but he couldn't go. There was someone he couldn't leave, and then the light vanished.
Elyse.
Where was Elyse?
Blood everywhere, fire and smoke and burning heat. Elyse fighting, roaring out his name, lasers flaring.
Was she dead? Had she died? Where was Elyse? Where was Elyse?
"Sedation,” a voice said from somewhere nearby, only Shaque couldn't open his eyes, couldn't see.
Couldn't move. So weak, so very weak.
"Five units. Blood pressure still rising. Get the Renyon. Four units. Top up with Bricayol."
"Heart rate fastening. One hundred and forty beats and climbing."
The blip of something in the distance, his heart thundering, blood rushing through his veins. Ears pounding.
"Danatsin, ten units."
Orders coming fast, the sound of movements, hands touching him.
Elyse! Where was Elyse? Where was Elyse?
Why couldn't anyone hear him?
Elyse!
Her name echoed in his ears as he cried out her name desperately, but it was only in his mind, and then everything went hazy, his heart thundering, drowning out everything, the voices, and the blip of machines.
Someone was crying. Who was crying? Was someone crying for Elyse? Was she dead? I'm crying. She must be dead if I'm crying. And then he started sobbing, but it was only in his head.
Blackness claiming him once more.
* * * *
An alarm going off. Blood choking her, welling up. Pain coursing through her, shooting down every nerve. Numbness.
Struggling to breath, to draw breath.
Orders snapping out, boots thudding somewhere in the distance.
Everything was wet, so wet.
"She's bleeding out!"
"Pulse is slowing, down to twenty beats."
"Blood pressure falling."
Burning in her chest, heart labouring.
Cold. So very cold...
"Breathe, Elyse! Breathe!” The demanding voice so far away, so distant.
* * * *
Opening her eyes, she saw a big man sitting at a control panel nearby. The lights were dim, but the light above his desk cast a pool of light, and she could see he was typing something and checking a screen, watching wavy lines and little blips and reading strange symbols that she didn't see clearly.
What she did see clearly was the dim figure of someone sitting on the end of her bed.
The woman looked at her out of blue eyes, her blonde hair flowing freely around her shoulders.
"You must go back," the woman said, her voice a soft whisper in the wind.
Pain beat at Elyse, but she tried to focus.
"My children need you." The woman drifted closer lifting up until she stretched above Elyse, hovering in the air, her blonde hair floating.
So tired. So much pain. Every breath she took wheezed, her skin burned. She couldn't flex her fingers, and when she glanced down, she could see bandages wrapped around her arms.
"Elyse."
So much effort to look up, but she met the woman's gaze.
Met Nerissa's blue eyes.
"The children need you. So many children, so much suffering. So many stolen, taken and sold.” One hand reached out, touched Elyse's cheek with a brush of coldness. “They need you."
They needed her.
She needed Shaque.
Nerissa smiled, and then she was gone.
The face of the man who'd been sitting at the desk was looking down at her, a frown between his brows. He was checking a read out, talking quietly to her.
But she couldn't hear him. Pain sucked her down, threw her into agony, and spun her into the waiting blackness.
* * * *
"Shaque."
A chill dragging him up through layers and layers of drugging numbness.
"Shaque."
He opened his eyes. The room was dim, and directly opposite him a big man sat at a desk, watching a screen, typing on a keyboard as he did so.
On the end of Shaque's bed sat a woman.
"Nerissa.” He couldn't say the word aloud, but it echoed in his mind.
"Hello, brother.” She smiled at him, looking so beautiful and at peace that he felt like weeping in relief, and a tear slipped free.
She moved, drifting, coming closer until she sat at his side, one cold hand coming out to touch him, a brush of chill that didn't quite touch his skin.
But it touched his soul, spreading warmth, and he turned his head slightly into the palm that wasn't quite there.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't save you." Another tear slipped free. “I looked for so long."
"I know. I'm okay, Shaque. I'm free now." She stroked him the chill spreading on his skin, the warmth in his soul. "Shaque, my children need you."
"Your ... children?"
"My little strays. So many little strays, Shaque. So many children, so much suffering. The children need you, Shaque.” One hand reached out, touched Shaque's cheek with a brush of coldness. “They need you to find them and save them and bring them home."
She started to fade.
"Nerissa!"
"They need you, Shaque."
And then she was gone. The medic looked up, pushing out of his chair to stride to the bedside. His hand on Shaque's brow, his eyes assessing him.
Shaque blinked up painfully.
The medic smiled, said something. Moved out of sight. He came back with something, wiped the wetness from Shaque's cheeks.
Shaque didn't know he'd been crying. Was it for Nerissa? Was it for Elyse?
There was a sense of urgency, a surge of strength that went as quickly as it came.
Closing his eyes, he drifted off into the void that always waited for him.
* * * *
Two voices in the room, one female, the other deeper and male.
"The bandages. She's covered in bandages."
"She's healing well.” The deep voice was reassuring.
"The burns..."
"Cormac was here."
"The head bounty hunter?"
"Ex-bounty hunter. He came with some kind of salve for them both, and he assured us it would work. It was from his wife."
"The witch woman?"
"I don't know. I don't know this woman. I haven't heard of her. But the salve is working. There'll be no scarring from the burns, Donika."
Donika.
Elyse forced herself to open her eyes just the tiniest bit, to see Donika standing by her bedside, Byron behind her. Her sister was looking up at the medic, wanting details.
Illona stood near the window, staring out, while Brina leaned back against the wall. Near the door Jevena and Jolie stood quietly, their faces pale and tear-stained.
Were they crying for her, or for Shaque?
She tried to ask, tried to call, but could only manage a whisper of sound.
Donika turned around.
Byron was at the bedside in seconds, looking down at her even as he had his fingers on the pulse in her wrist. “Elyse? Can you hear me?"
Donika was on her other side, he hands hovering as though wanting to touch Elyse but not knowing where.
She tried to smile reassuringly at Donika, wanted to tell her she was all right. But the first word that came out was “Shaque.” They couldn't hear her, frowning, so she repeated it again, “Shaque."
Byron smiled. “He's okay, Elyse. You're both okay."
And she started crying.
Donika was stroking her hair, trying to talk soothingly but her voice kept wobbling.
Another medic appeared, and they started checking Elyse over, flashing a light in her eyes, checking the machines.
So tired, so very tired.
She slipped away on a sob.
* * * *
When Shaque next opened his eyes, he could feel a difference. He ached, his head felt woolly, but there was something else.
A feeling of something finally being right.
He could feel ... her.
Slowly he turned his head, and he saw her. Lying on a bed not a foot from him, a line in her arm attached to a bag of some kind of clear fluid that was hanging from a pole above the bed.
Her arms were bandaged, the skin on one cheek pink, otherwise her face was almost chalk white. Dark circles under her eyes, her full lips pale. She looked thin, exhausted.
She was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.
A lump rose in his throat, and he struggled to lift his arm. He felt so weak, so bloody weak and helpless.
As he shifted, a machine started blipping loudly.
Elyse opened her eyes, and looked wearily at him. Such beautiful brown eyes. She reached out slowly, and their hands met, fingers entwining weakly.
He sagged back against the pillow, his heart beating fast from even that small movement.
But he felt so much better. So very better. Her palm was cool against his.
He was never going to let her go.
* * * *
"I can stand,” Elyse said testily.
Sonja ignored her and pushed the chair behind her, knocking her off her feet to fall back on the cushion. “You need to rest."
"I need to keep moving."
"Tell her, Red.
Red rolled his eyes.
"Red!"
"Aye, you need to sit, lass."
"You'd say anything to keep Sonja happy.” Elyse looked at Shaque. “At least he has the sense to tell me what he really thinks."
Shaque grinned.
"'Tis because the sick bastard likes to live dangerously."
"It's bloody downright scary when you grin,” Donika said to Shaque. “Could you stop? You're giving me the heebie-jeebies."
His smile grew even more, all teeth.
Donika looked sourly at him.
"'Tis no way to speak to your brother-by-marriage,” Red informed her happily.
"I still need a stiff drink every night before bed just to let me get some sleep, otherwise I still have nightmares about that wedding."
"Don't know why,” Sonja said. “We smuggled you in and out of it without the law being aware."
"The moment Elyse was wed officially to him, I realized all hope for her salvation was gone."
Elyse suppressed a smile when Shaque looked at her, raising one brow coolly at him instead. “He knows who is boss."
Red whistled. “You poor bastard. Let me tell you, having an ex-space pirate for a wife ‘tis ... well, just look at me. I
suffer."
Everyone, including Sonja, did just look at him. Red had never looked happier.
"Aye, you poor bastard,” Jase said.
Red started laughing.
Cam strolled through the door. “Thought you might like to know that Security is on its way."
Donika bolted upright. “I'd say that's my cue to go."
Elyse stood a little more slowly, still feeling the stiffness in her legs. It had been a month since Byron had finally released her and Shaque from the medical centre and into the care of Sonja and Sabra, but it was taking awhile for both of them to get back to full strength.
Donika embraced her, giving her a careful squeeze, whispering as she did so, “I love you, Sis."
"Yeah. Me, too.” Elyse hugged her. “I'll see you soon."
"You're going back to the Outlaw Sector?"
"Got a few things to do."
Knowing what it was, Donika nodded. “You need us, we'll come."
"You shouldn't have come to Ceron in the first place."
"Like we'd leave you alone? Look how much trouble you got into without us.” Donika narrowed her eyes at Shaque. “That's what happens when you hang around a bounty hunter. Bloody bad influence."
Shaque arched a brow lazily.
"Come on, lass.” Red got to his feet. “Time to smuggle you away to where your friends are waiting."
"I just hope Shamon has been able to keep Illona occupied. She caught sight of the Daamen males through the window and Brina had to mop up the drool."
"I'm sure he's keeping her occupied, but not in the way she wants.” Red grinned.
"She's probably been trying to get him out from under the table for the last hour,” Sonja laughed.
"Let's go rescue the poor bugger,” Jase said.
"Give Shaque a hug goodbye, lass, and we'll get going.” Eyes twinkling, Red opened the door.
Donika made gagging sounds as she strode out of the door.
Leaning back in the chair, Elyse watched the timer on the wall, gauging how long it would take Red and Jase to get Donika out of Sonja's home before Sabra entered.
"Abra and Vane are keeping the security occupied for a few minutes out the front,” Cam reported from near the window.
Voices sounded minutes later in the corridor, and it opened, but it wasn't Sabra that walked through the door. It was a tall, imposing figure in a long, black robe.
Soul of a Predator Page 41
