Out in the passageway, she nearly stumbled over the body of a dead soldier, almost forgetting about the short, bloody battle that had raged only minutes earlier. Someone caught her elbow and steadied her, and she looked up to see Rian had followed her out. She wrenched out of his hold and continued toward the elevators, the doctors with Zander already having disappeared into the upper decks.
As she reached out to touch the crystal screen for the elevator, the blood—Zander’s blood—on her hand zeroed her attention, making her stomach pitch. She clenched her fist and swallowed against the churn rising in her throat. Rian stopped beside her and tapped the screen himself several times, like that would make the elevator arrive faster.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Her voice came out scratchy, and she swallowed again, trying to clear the roughness at the back of her tongue.
He didn’t answer.
“Where are you going?” This time the words came out stronger—not quite a yell, but a heated demand nonetheless.
Finally he looked at her, his expression devoid of any emotion whatsoever, as if he hadn’t just tried to kill the man he claimed was his closest friend.
“Zander is like family—”
The pressure of the worry and tearing grief smashed into each other and exploded outward. She shoved Rian in the chest, and since he didn’t resist, he stumbled back into the wall next to the elevator.
“Don’t you dare say another word. If he dies, this one won’t be on the Reidar.”
The elevator arrived with a soft chime. When she turned away and stepped in, he didn’t try to follow. The doors closed on him stalking back along the corridor, head down, shoulders tense and palms resting on his weapons as though they were his only salvation. In that second, before the closing panels completely shut him off from sight, she wanted to call him back, tell him she hadn’t meant it. But he was gone, and the elevator swiftly took her up.
Alienating him wasn’t the best way of handling things. If she lost Zander, Rian would literally be the only one she had left in this goddamned universe. But she couldn’t escape the smoldering anger for his actions. The next breath caught painfully in her chest, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut, waging a battle over her emotions for control of her body. She refused to turn up on the MED a sobbing, incoherent mess. That wouldn’t help Zander.
By the time the doors opened on the MED level, she’d regained enough composure, though it had left her feeling numb. With purposefully even steps, she walked the short length of the passageway through the airlock doors and into the chaos of the medics trying to save Zander’s life.
No one paid her any attention as she neared the end of the bed. Blood dripped off the side of the gurney, crimson red against the stark white floor.
The doctors had cut away Zander’s shirt and gotten him hooked up to the ship’s monitors, shooting medical terms back and forth. An alarm cut off the chatter and made everyone freeze for a split second.
“We’re losing him. Get the R and R unit, now.” One of the doctors who appeared to be in charge recovered before anyone else. The words almost didn’t make sense, her mind grappling to comprehend the reality of this.
A few of the nurses and doctors backed off while the doctor who’d spoken and another standing on the opposite side of Zander reached up to grab the resus and regen unit above the bed. They yanked it down and secured it to the sides of the gurney, the pod-like assemblage completely cocooning Zander.
“The R and R isn’t going to cut it. We need to get him into surgery to repair that artery.” Even as the doctor spoke, the rest of the medical team were getting ready to move again. As they started ferrying Zander with the R and R unit secured around him, she stepped into the path of the doctor who’d been giving orders.
“Doctor—?”
“Prescott. I’m Dr. Prescott.” He managed to dodge her and continue after the gurney, but she fell into step beside him.
“What’s happening with Zander?”
“The R and R unit is the only thing keeping him alive. And because of the seriousness of the injury, it won’t sustain him for long. I need to get in and repair the artery, if he’s got any hope of surviving.”
“But once you fix the artery, he’ll be fine?”
The other doctors with the gurney disappeared through a set of double doors marked medical personnel only. Prescott paused to face her.
“I don’t know if I can repair the artery until I open him up. But I’m going to try. And even if I do, the next twenty-four hours are going to be critical. He’s a long way from being safe yet. I’m sorry. I really need to go.”
She stepped back as Prescott dashed through the doors, leaving her standing alone in the corridor.
Oh god. What if they couldn’t save him? What if he still died?
Her mind couldn’t see past now, like her future was one giant black hole with nothing in it. Somehow, she managed to find her way to the nearby empty waiting room and dropped numbly into a chair as time slipped into a vortex where it simply didn’t exist any longer.
God, she was such an idiot. Had she really pushed him away, this man she loved more than anyone else in her entire life?
Maybe at the very beginning, her evasiveness had been justified—she hadn’t wanted to hurt him with the truth and hadn’t seen any possible way they could be together. She’d thought there was no point in even trying.
But by the time they’d stowed away on the Ebony Winter she should have seen Zander couldn’t go back to his old life, just like she couldn’t. She should have told him everything herself, taken time to explain before they’d reached Rian and everything had come out in the worst possible light.
If she was going to survive in this universe as an outcast from the organization that had once defined her very life, she needed Zander. Not just to stand with her, but to hold her up when things got too hard. With the notion of losing him a very real possibility, knowing she couldn’t live without him cut deep, an indescribably painful and desperate realization.
She couldn’t have said how much time passed as she frantically hung onto the belief that he’d survive, the words spinning in her mind like a mantra. But soft-booted footsteps at last caught her attention, and she looked up to see Dr. Prescott approaching her. She shot to her feet so fast that she almost went down again with dizziness from the fear and sitting still for so long.
Prescott put a steadying hand on her shoulder, his expression grim and worn.
“He survived the surgery, and the artery repair is holding. For now. He’s a fighter, but he’s got some way to go before he’ll be in the clear. We’ve put him in an induced coma. If he makes it through the next twenty-four hours, I’m confident he’ll make a full recovery.”
She nodded, the movement automatic and jerky. “Can I see him?”
“Of course, but only for a few minutes. I’ll send someone to escort you.”
The doctor started to step away, but she caught his sleeve. “Thank you.”
“I did what anyone would have. There isn’t a single person on this ship who wouldn’t give their life for Graydon. Because we all know he’d do the same for any of us, right down to the lowest-ranking civ.”
Prescott walked away as another doctor approached and motioned for her to follow.
There weren’t many men in the universe like Zander Graydon. And she couldn’t imagine a universe without him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rian slammed through the door to his quarters and strode across the office, headed for his drinks compartment. He couldn’t remember ever being so goddamn relieved to see his ship as when it had docked on the Swift Brion alongside the Ebony Winter.
The bottle of Violaine he pulled out was three-quarters empty, and he cursed as he twisted off the lid and then sucked down the contents, not pausing for a breath until he’d downed every last drop of the hard liquor.
His hand shook as he lowered his fist to stare at the empty bottle. Yeah, he was going to need another one
of those. A tremor rocked him. Sickening, oily darkness raked poisoned claws through him. He’d let the demon inside him take too much, and he’d almost killed his oldest friend.
It’d been a long time since he’d waded through a battle like that. With every step he’d taken, every person he’d shot—Reidar or not—the darkness had called for more. He’d relished in the freedom of it, of being exactly who he was meant to be—a soulless, callous killer, taking life and gaining dark pleasure.
He blew out a hard, ragged breath, his body blooming in cold sweat and shaking like he was coming down from a bad trip. His blood boiled with shadows in his veins, the demon howling for more destruction.
Violaine. Oblivion. Escape.
There was no other way to control the darkness when it took him this far.
A whisper tickled over the back of his neck. Ella stood in the hatchway.
Oh, hell no. Not now. He couldn’t take it.
“Go away.” The words came out at not much more than a growl.
Her chin tipped up. “No, not when you’re in this much turmoil.”
“I said, go away!” He hurled the empty bottle and it hit the doorframe, shattering into a million pieces and showering Ella with glass. But she didn’t flinch, her mossy-hazel gaze locked on him.
Her unwavering stance only made the frustration roar higher and something snapped, sending him stalking toward her. Still, she didn’t move, her calm expression not shifting, even when he grabbed her upper arm in a bruising hold and jerked her into the room.
“I told you what would happen the next time you came looking for me.”
He slammed her into the wall next to the door and surged up against her. Usually touching her brought a measure of warmth into his perpetually cold body, but it was as though he’d been dosed up with a waking anesthetic and couldn’t feel anything.
Instead of cowering, or begging for him to let her go, or giving in to tears, Ella stared at him, a hint of something hot and fierce burning in her gaze. She reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back.
“So do it, Rian. You keep trying to intimidate me into submission but never seem willing to go through with your threats.”
Surprise ricocheted through him, throwing him totally off kilter and clearing his head for an all too brief moment.
Did she want him to let it all go, give the darkness free rein? Because the things he’d do to her—
He sucked in a sharp breath, darkly sensual images bombarding his mind. He swallowed a groan and pressed harder against her, his body going into sensorial overload.
“Rian, what the hell are you doing?”
Making his muscles work was suddenly like slogging through heavy gravity, but he forced his head to turn away from Ella and glanced to where Tannin and Zahli stared at him with similar expressions of alarm.
“Let her go, Rian.” Zahli started to come forward, but Tannin grabbed her arm and held her back.
“No.” Rian’s voice came out hoarse. For some reason, his mind didn’t seem to be in contact with his mouth, as though someone else was talking for him. “She keeps pushing me, so I’m going to give her exactly what she’s asking for.”
Zahli’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “I’m going to get Callan and Jensen. Tannin, make sure he doesn’t do anything until I get back.”
As Zahli left the room at a run, Rian forced out a harsh laugh. “You want to watch, Everette? I didn’t realize you were into that kind of thing, brother.”
Fury flashed across Tannin’s face, but he clenched his jaw, not taking the bait.
Ella shifted closer to him, capturing his full attention like a sun burning through the dark emptiness of space as her mouth brushed his ear.
“You better get control of yourself, Rian, or I’m going to do it for you. And believe me, I won’t be gentle about it.” Her quiet words sent powerful reverberations through him.
“Oh, really?” He gave another short laugh then leaned in, inhaling the sweet jasmine scent of her skin until his head spun. “I don’t like it gentle, so do your worst.”
Ella rolled her eyes, still not seeming the least bit afraid of him. “If you actually thought for a minute that I was going to take you up on that offer, you wouldn’t be able to run from this room fast enough. That’s your deepest fear, isn’t it, Rian? Letting someone in, allowing yourself to be that vulnerable for even a moment of time?”
Anger whipped through him, sharp and bitter. “I’m not afraid of anything, least of all some panty-tied princess like you.”
A hint of fury flashed in her eyes. She reached up and clamped both hands on either side of his neck, just below his jawline. Frecking christ. She’d tried this on him once before, no way was he going to stand here and—
His vision whitewashed like someone had pointed a blinding light right into his eyes. A jagged lightning strike of energy ruptured through him, and he buckled to his knees, Ella still holding him.
He sucked in a cutting breath as another overwhelming sensation chased the electric burst—something warm mixed with pure ecstasy. He closed a hand around Ella’s arm, not sure if he wanted to shove her away or yank her closer.
The buzz kept going until he wanted to drown in the sensation, or maybe escape his own skin. Either way, he couldn’t last in this—it felt too good, lighting him up and burning away every little shred of darkness inside him.
Finally, she let him go, and he collapsed in a boneless heap, scrabbling for consciousness.
“What the hell did you do to him?” Tannin asked, his voice unsteady.
“I only gave him the same thing he threatened me with,” Ella replied in her always calm voice.
Rian wanted to laugh at the irony of that, because he was pretty sure he couldn’t have given Ella even a quarter of what she’d just blasted him with. But he had no fight left in him, and satiated exhaustion dragged him into the oblivion he’d been seeking.
Chapter Thirty
Expression blank, Rian stopped next to Mae while the last of the Swift Brion’s crew were cleared by the Reidar stunners. It’d taken two days because of the guns’ limited power packs, but once people had been shown proof of the creatures lurking among them, they’d been all too happy to cooperate.
Fortunately, they’d only found one more Reidar, a woman who was in charge of the research team who also ran the onboard labs. She’d tried to escape, and when she’d been captured had fought back with superhuman strength until Torres had taken her down with a sustained burst from a plasma rifle.
The two days since the initial offensive had dragged. Zander had remained in the induced coma for the past forty-eight hours while his body recovered from the stress of almost dying, and she’d spent as much time with him as she could, barely sleeping herself. They were going to wake him soon, and she planned on being the first thing he saw when he came around.
So, she supposed she didn’t need to hate Rian after all, but she was still pissed at him. And it hadn’t helped that he’d clocked out, apparently going on a bender that had put him down for twenty-four hours after he’d gotten back onboard the Imojenna. It should have made her angrier at him but instead had reminded her of the condition he’d been in when she’d first found him all those years ago. The demons inside him rode him hard most days, and it was unfortunate that sometimes those closest to him suffered for it.
“So this is the last of them?” Rian glanced at her, no hint of wariness or uncertainty, as though the whole almost-killing-Zander thing hadn’t happened.
“Yeah, this is it. It’s going smoothly.” She nodded as a couple of the crew passed them, free to get back to duties now they had been cleared.
“Then why did Qae call me down here?”
“We’ve got a special case.” She motioned for him to follow her, and they walked to the far end of the almost-empty storage area, where a stack of crates had created a sectioned-off corner.
The guy who’d reacted to the stunner sat with his hands and feet tied, hea
d tilted against the bulkhead behind him, and blood trickling from his nose. Forster stood two steps away from him, Reidar stunner in hand.
“Ah, Rian.” Forster glanced at them as they stopped beside him. “You’re just in time. This scum bastard here was just about to tell me how he’s resisting the stunner. And then he’s going to change into his true form and settle into his new quarters in the brig of the Imojenna so we can all get to know one another.”
“I told you.” The guy’s voice was hoarse, and he paused for a moment to swallow. “I’m not one of those things. I never even knew about them until two days ago when you stormed this ship.”
Forster laughed, though the sound was a little exaggerated. “By the saints’ holy balls, you crack me up, dickwad. You mind if I call you dickwad? Or maybe you’d prefer alien scum-licker.”
The guy glanced away, his expression defiant, but his movements were slow and weary.
Unease churned through her. What if he was telling the truth? What if he really wasn’t Reidar? He certainly didn’t seem to have the constitution of one.
“When was the last time he had anything to drink?”
Rian and Forster both looked at her as though she was a few stars short of a galaxy. She sighed and grabbed a nearby half-empty bottle of water.
“Hey, that’s mine,” Forster protested, lowering the gun as she stepped into his line of fire. “Who cares if the alien is a little thirsty?”
“And you’re a moron, just like I thought when we first met. What good will it do if he dies from dehydration before we can work out what’s going on with him?”
She turned her back on Forster’s scowl while Rian still kept a detached expression on his face, like he didn’t care either way. She knelt down in front of the prisoner and held the bottle up to his lips.
His light blue gaze lit with gratitude as he gulped down the fluid. After a moment, she lowered the bottle, and he sighed.
“Thanks. I really needed that,” he murmured as she sat back.
“What’s your name?”
He looked past her to Rian and Forster then returned his attention to her. “My name is Varian Donnelly. I’m a commando with the first-tier AF tact team.”
Quantum Page 32
