Rebel Heat

by Cyndi Friberg

  One final protective instinct flashed through the blinding agony. He couldn’t leave Morgan helpless and bound. Crawling across the tent, he frantically reached for his pants. Balling them up, he threw them toward her and then promptly passed out.

  Stretching out her arms and legs, Morgan barely reached the pants Nazerel had thrown in her general direction. His aim had been off and the garment had flown past her, colliding with the far wall of the tent. He lay in a graceless heap near the cooler and the smell of burning flesh lingered in the air. Was he still breathing or had his final bid for freedom cost him his life?

  She couldn’t find out while she was chained to the tent pole, so she pulled the pants toward her with her feet, then rolled to her side and drew her knees to her chest so she could reach the pants with her hands. It took some serious contorting, but she was soon rummaging through the pockets of his pants.

  Her initial search came up empty. Still, she didn’t give up. It was possible Nazerel had been delirious. He’d certainly been in enough pain. But he’d seemed intent on getting the pants to her. There had to be a reason he wanted her to have them.

  She looked at him again, trying to determine if he was breathing. He lay twisted on his side, his back toward her. From this angle it was impossible to tell if he was alive or dead. If she didn’t find a way to free herself, they would both be dead in a matter of days. No one could survive without water and she couldn’t reach their supply from here.

  With renewed purpose, she meticulously checked the pockets again. Nothing. Okay, so it wasn’t an obvious pocket. She paused to roll her neck and shoulders. Even hugging the tent wall so she could sit, this was an awkward position in which to search. Still, she refused to give up. She felt along the waistband and down the side seams. Finally, she rolled up the hem and felt for any telltale hardness. Her fingers passed over the tiny key so quickly she almost missed it. But she looked closer and found the slit into which the key had been slipped.

  “Thank God.” She unlocked the chain, but left the cuffs in place as she rushed across the tent toward Nazerel. Without moving him, she held her hand in front of his face and waited for the faint brush of his breath to warm her fingers. He exhaled and so did she. At least he was still breathing.

  She grabbed the T-shirt off the floor and wiggled into it then pulled on her panties. Her bra could wait until she figured out her next move. It was unlikely Nazerel had injured his spine as he fell. The man was solid muscle. So she dragged him onto the sleeping bags, covered him to mid-chest, then relit the lantern. She needed to find the keys to the SUV and get the hell out of here, but she didn’t want Nazerel to die of exposure before she could summon a team of Mystics.

  But had Nazerel’s powers returned?

  If he was only stunned, he could flash himself to safety long before she could figure out where she was and contact Lor. Yet if she left Nazerel here without learning the severity of his condition, he could die before she returned. What a mess.

  One thing was certain. She was not going to put herself at his mercy again, not if she could help it. She unlocked the cuffs and adjusted the buckles so they’d fit his larger wrists, then she approached him cautiously. He hadn’t moved since she dragged him onto the sleeping bags. In fact, she could barely see the rise and fall of his chest.

  She knelt at his side and waited for him to react to her nearness. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. One of his arms was already over his head, because she’d used it to drag him across the floor. She fastened one cuff around his raised wrist then positioned his other arm and encircled it with the other cuff. After locking both cuffs, she wrapped the chain around the tent pole then locked it down as well. If his abilities returned, he’d be able to flash himself out of the restraints, but she wasn’t convinced that he’d succeeded.

  Curious enough to investigate, she took the key and carefully placed it on top of the cooler. Then she returned to Nazerel and touched the collar, gently shifting it upward. The skin beneath was blistered and raw. That had to hurt. She pulled on either side of the metal band, but it was still securely fastened around his neck.

  The collar contained an emergency beckon. It should have been activated by the power surge, but she could also trigger it manually, except the control panel was on the inside of the band. But did she dare take it off him? She rocked his shoulder. His head lolled to one side, but he didn’t stir, didn’t make a sound. She poked him in the ribs several times, but again there was no reaction.

  It would only take a moment to trigger the alarm and then refasten the collar. It really was her best option. She hadn’t heard any sign of civilization the entire time they’d been here, not a plane or car, not a motor of any kind. Even if she found the keys to the SUV, it could take hours for her to find a clue to their location.

  Seeing no other choice, she pressed her thumb against the latch and spoke the Bilarrian phrase Lor had taught her. The collar hissed then parted beneath her thumb. Very carefully, she eased the band away from his neck. Several layers of skin peeled off in the process. She cringed and swallowed then turned her attention to the inside of the band.

  Something hit her, knocking her over backward half on and half off of the sleeping bag. The band was snatched out of her hand and she stared up into Nazerel’s murderous face.

  “You lying bitch!”

  Shocked beyond words, it took her a second to comprehend what had just happened. “You tricked me.” Hearing the words only added humiliation to her surprise. He’d played upon her sympathies and masterfully anticipated her moves. Not to mention endured the pain of the collar’s removal without so much as flinching.

  She didn’t have to ask if he had access to his powers now. The nasty burn on his neck healed right before her eyes.

  None too gently, he dragged her to her feet and turned her so she faced away from him. “Give me the key.”

  She ignored him. Her chances of escape had just dwindled dramatically. There was no reason left to cooperate. He held her in place with one arm while he paused to look around. It only took him a few seconds to spot the key on top of the cooler. He shoved her to her knees on the sleeping bags then yanked the restraint system free of the tent pole. After opening all three of the locks, he set the key aside. Then she was flat on her back again with Nazerel straddling her hips. He returned the cuffs to her wrists and locked them together without the relative freedom of the chain. Instead, he wrapped the chain around her waist and locked the cuffs to the chain, restricting her movement even more.

  Through it all she cursed her strategic misstep. She’d done the one thing she’d sworn she’d never do. She underestimated Nazerel’s ruthlessness and his dedication to this endeavor. He did nothing without a reason. He hadn’t been concerned about her wellbeing. He’d needed her free so she could release the collar. But how had he known about the emergency beckon? The Bilarrian team had added the feature along with co-ownership.

  He pulled on his pants, tucked the key to the restraints into one of his front pockets, and then stormed from the tent, the collar clasped firmly in one hand. She saw a flash of light and knew he’d teleported somewhere, but would he come back? Why bother restraining her if he meant to escape? He’d only been wearing pants, no shirt or boots. No, he was coming back.

  She sat up then rolled to her knees so she could climb to her feet. Not being able to move her arms was a serious hindrance, but this was immanently more comfortable than having her hands tied behind her back. She had no idea how long he’d be gone, so she had no time to waste. She searched for the keys to the SUV and/or his Rodyte communicator. Nazerel told her it was basically a two-way radio, but she didn’t believe him. The Rodytes were one of the most technologically advanced races she’d encountered. They wouldn’t manufacture something as limiting as a two-way radio.

  After looking through the crates and inside the cooler, she spotted his boots near the doorway. It was as good a hiding place as anything else. She picked up his first boot and turned it upside d
own over the cooler. The SUV keys came tumbling out. She quickly overturned the second boot and was rewarded with the communicator, which looked very similar to a cell phone. No one would think twice if they saw him using it on a public street.

  Her clothing was in the SUV, but she needed to put some distance between them before she bothered dressing. She ducked through the open entrance and slammed into Nazerel.

  “You’re free. You have no reason to keep me now.”

  He ignored her plea, grasped her upper arms and pushed her back inside the tent. “I don’t like liars.”

  “I didn’t lie. Lor is the owner of the collar.”

  He shot her a disbelieving glare. “Then how were you able to unlock it?”

  “I’m also the owner. The Bilarrians made some improvements when they helped us reset the programing.”

  He left her standing in the middle of the tent as he found a clean shirt and clean socks.

  “All I’ve tried to do is escape,” she pointed out. “You would have done the same.”

  He pulled on the socks, donned the shirt and tugged on his boots all without saying a word. Then he held out his hand expectantly.

  “Leave me here.”

  “Give me the keys and the comlink,” he snapped. “I’m finished playing with you.”

  Hope fluttered through her being. Did that mean he’d do as she asked? The anger in his gaze promised something much more dangerous.

  She tossed him the keys then held out the communicator. Another wrestling match held zero appeal.

  After tucking the keys into his front pocket, he activated the comlink and spoke in rapid Rodyte, or Bilarrian, she hadn’t heard either often enough to distinguish one from the other.

  “Thank you, again. I’ll see you shortly.” He put the comlink away and grabbed her arm. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” When he said nothing she dug in her heels. “There is no reason for you to take me with you. I insist you leave me here.”

  “No.” He dragged her outside, ignoring her frantic tugging against his grip. He shoved her up against the SUV as he unlocked the vehicle and grabbed her pants off the backseat. “Get dressed.” He dropped her boots in front of her and handed her the pants.

  If she refused, he’d likely drag her around half naked, and being barefoot was a definite disadvantage. Despite her very real need to rebel, she did as she was told.

  If the beckon had activated, someone should have been here by now. But any chance of assistance she had would be abolished if he teleported her away from this location. “Nazerel, you need to listen to me. Right now you’re in trouble with the Ontarians. If you let me go, I’ll make sure the humans stay out of it. If you harm me, I no longer have that option. Do you really want to be a fugitive on two different planets?”

  “I’ve been a fugitive my entire life. Why should that change now?”

  Without further argument, he pulled her into his arms and teleported off the mountain.

  * * * * *

  Varrik walked around the campsite, his empathic receptors wide open. He could detect Nazerel’s energy, but the pattern was faint, barely discernable. Elias hadn’t been sure the momentary blip his people detected had been a legitimate signal. Still, it had been worth checking out.

  Scanning together, Varrik and Echo had located the lake, but there had been no sign of Nazerel. Worse, they weren’t even sure the energy pulse the humans detected had anything to do with the fugitives. Still, they had no other leads, so they searched in concentric circles, scanning outward from the lake. It had been time-consuming and tedious, but their patience paid off.

  “They were definitely here.” He looked at Echo and allowed his disappointment to show. Façades were pointless with Echo. Their life bond allowed her to sense his emotions and hear every thought he didn’t shield. “But they’ve been gone for at least six hours, probably more.”

  “There was nothing personal in the tent, just generic camping supplies. Even the clothing looked new. Most of the garments still had sales tags on them.”

  “Then it stands to reason that Nazerel didn’t assemble this himself. He must have purchased everything from a supplier.”

  “Or suppliers.”

  He nodded. A different person could have supplied each component, but each person Nazerel involved in his escape was a potential liability. Having one supplier assemble the entire package was a wiser choice.

  “What about the vehicle?” Echo asked. “Is it registered?”

  “It’s locked. I haven’t searched it yet.” He approached the vehicle cautiously. “Why did they leave it behind?”

  She bent and tilted her head so she could see beneath it. “He could have set some sort of trap, but it’s more likely that they just didn’t need it anymore.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Their biggest advantage had been the collar suppressing Nazerel’s abilities. If he had already regained access to his power, their job just became exponentially harder.

  They quickly searched the vehicle to make sure it posed no danger, then he smashed the driver’s window with an energy pulse. There were more camping supplies in the rear compartment, but again nothing personal.

  “It’s registered to a rental company,” Echo told him. “Lor and Elias are both running the information through their databases.”

  She must have contacted Lor telepathically and asked him to pass the information on to Elias. Echo appeared fragile and feminine to those who didn’t know her well. It made her all the more dangerous. She was a trained operative who had been involved in countless covert operations long before Varrik met her. He’d thought he kidnaped a helpless princess, but found himself dealing with a female warrior. He was still captivated by the contrast.

  “There are some female garments on the backseat. They don’t appear damaged.” Sometimes the smallest detail would end up being the most significant, so he tried to notice everything.

  “There was a bra in the tent as well.” She tensed, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I know the Sacred Customs forbid rape, but how do we know Nazerel still honors the ancient ways?”

  “We don’t. All we can do is process each clue as quickly as possible. The sooner we find them, the less risk there is that circumstances will escalate beyond his control.”

  The rotation in her eyes slowed for a moment then her voice appeared in his mind.

  Go on Lor. I just brought Varrik in as well. We can both hear you.

  The rental company was real, but the customer was phony. The only real piece of information given was the credit card. It was a corporate card belonging to a failed auto dealership. We’re running down the authorized users now.

  If the dealership went out of business, why was the card still active? Echo beat him to the question.

  We’re not sure. Give us a few more minutes to dig. The layers of misinformation are multiplying quickly.

  Understood.

  She pinched off the connection, yet lingered in his mind, surrounding herself with his energy. The telepathic caress made Varrik smile. “Keep that up and you’ll find yourself on your back in that tent with your mate deep inside you.”

  She laughed, her cheeks bright pink. “That’s not much of a threat.”

  They continued to search the campsite, but they both knew they were wasting time. Without some idea of where Nazerel went, he could be anywhere on Earth. Or even much farther away by now. Varrik tried not to let frustration take over. He’d expected disappointments. He knew Nazerel too well to think this would be easy. Still, he hadn’t expected to be shut down this quickly after the search began.

  Chapter Five

  Nazerel sat on the bed beside Morgan, watching her sleep. The hotel room Phil had provided was shabby, but clean. The Bilarrian trader promised to have Nazerel’s order ready by six o’clock the following morning. Nazerel was frustrated by the delay, but his request hadn’t been simple. Needing time to fill the order was a reasonable stipulation. When he told Phil the campsite had been com
promised, the Bilarrian suggested that he take Morgan to one of Phil’s preregistered hotel rooms so they could get some sleep. Phil even gave them a backpack with clean clothes and toiletries. The layover had been a good idea. Nazerel didn’t require as much sleep as humans, but he’d already been up for almost twenty-four hours when this adventure began.

  Exhaustion dragged him into a fitful slumber shortly after they arrived at the hotel, yet troubled thoughts soon had him brooding again. He needed to know exactly what had become of his men. If they were still on Earth, he might be able to free them. If they’d already been dragged back to Ontariese, he would have to be much more creative with his assistance.

  Morgan murmured something in her sleep then shifted her bound hands to a different position. He’d unlocked her hands from the leash around her waist though he’d left the cuffs in place. Then he’d reinforced her natural need for sleep with a light compulsion before surrendering to oblivion himself.

  She was more challenging than any adversary he’d faced thus far. Not physically, of course. But mentally, she was agile and strategic, using every weapon at her disposal with surprising skill. She’d negotiated, interrogated, bartered, and deceived. And through it all she never lost sight of her real motivation—escape.

  When he regained consciousness on the floor of the tent, he’d decided to play his final card. Compassion. Could Morgan face her enemy helpless and in need of care and just walk away? He’d accurately predicted her actions. She had removed the collar, but not to tend his burn as he’d assumed. She’d been in the process of trigging some sort of signal rather than easing his pain.

  He was relatively certain he’d stopped her before the signal had been activated. Still, he wasn’t willing to risk capture on a hunch. So he threw the collar in a lake many miles from the campsite then returned for Morgan. Abandoning the campsite had been frustrating, but it was the safest course. Finally, he’d contacted Phil, letting him know that plans had changed again.