Kira glanced at Tannin, a hint of impatience in her gaze. “You can go. Between the cuffs and the bars, I don’t think Command Donnelly is going anywhere.”
The tech analyst didn’t say anything, simply nodded then strode away.
Once Tannin disappeared, she approached the bars. “Sorry about this, but after what happened with Callan—”
A swell of contrition rose within him. For the first time in his entire military career, he’d lost control, let the anger drive him into attacking Callan. Worse, his abilities had been freed, and he’d nearly killed the guy with nothing more than an enraged thought. Despite remorse at his reckless actions, a part of him, that hostile mutation that’d taken root in his psyche, was glad for what he’d done. Wished he’d finished the job and watched the life fade from the bastard’s eyes. He took in a half breath, loathing the malicious gratification.
What the hell was wrong with him?
“Well, anyway,” she continued when he didn’t say anything. “I suppose it’s not surprising Rian ordered you back in the brig.”
“I probably would have done the same thing if I were in his position.” His words came out rough, and he swallowed over the gravel in the back of his throat. Hell, he was starting to think he would have locked himself up in here to protect everyone else until he figured out how to destroy what was inside him. What if he lost control again?
What if next time Kira was the one who got hurt?
Bending down, she set her bundle on the floor inside his cell. “I brought you a change of clothes and some water. I’ll go up in a minute and get you a meal, plus some extra water. You’re going to need it down here with this heat.”
Yeah, he could feel a fine sweat starting to bead over his skin. Kira’s cheeks were slightly flushed, a light sheen glistening down her neck into the line of her shirt.
A pulse of heat cut through him that had nothing to do with the engines, and he couldn’t help but step forward. He half expected her to back up after their last encounter on opposite sides of these bars. But she stood her ground, her gaze not tainted with suspicion or fear like others whenever his abilities had surfaced in the past.
She had to be putting the pieces together—the vibration when he’d touched her cheek, surviving an injury that should have killed him, his rapid healing. And his eyes—when his abilities swelled, they turned mercury. She’d been staring right at him, their faces inches apart. She had to notice, and now, no doubt, they were back to their usual color. But she hadn’t mentioned a word of it to him.
“You’re still trying to figure it out. Why I healed so fast, why I’m not dead.”
Her expression closed off slightly. “Accounting for your extensive injuries, you should have needed the R and R unit for at least another twenty-four hours, if not longer.”
Not really an answer, just a statement of fact. “Maybe my injuries weren’t as bad as you thought.”
“Maybe.” The word was a concession, but her tone signaled doubt.
He closed the remaining distance to the bars and glanced down at the pile of clothes near his feet. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m going to have a little trouble doing anything with these on.”
He held up his hands, causing her attention to shift to the cuffs.
“Lucky pickpocketing is considered a life skill onboard this ship.” She produced an electronic key from her pocket and then reached through the bars.
But, before she passed the key over the lock sensor, she hesitated, regarding him intently, the color of her eyes a darker green in the low lighting. His attention got caught by those eyes, by the way her short dark hair brushed her neck and the very tops of her shoulders, by the plump shape of her mouth, and the slight dimple in her lower lip. A man would have to be blind not to see how gorgeous she was, and though he’d realized from the first that she was attractive, now he was noticing her on an elemental level that could lead nowhere but trouble.
“Will you promise not to try anything when I take these off?” she asked, interrupting his wayward thoughts.
“I think the better question is, would you take me at my word?”
She gave a single nod. “Despite everything, I get the sense that you’re an honorable man, and you took your duty as an AF commando onboard the Swift Brion very seriously. I’ve heard that a commando will die to keep his word.”
He inclined his head. “It’s true. When a commando gives his word, he will do everything in his ability to keep it, including sacrificing his life. Which is why I don’t give my word lightly or easily.”
Her posture relaxed. Stretching her arm the remaining distance, she held the key up to the sensor. The cuffs clicked then dropped free to clang on the metal grate flooring. Before the doc could retreat, he caught her hand in a gentle grip.
He drew her closer to the bars, even as he moved to lean against the metal separating them. Despite the background noise of the engines, he heard her breath hitch.
He’d lived with hiding the truth about himself for so long, he didn’t know any other way to exist. People wouldn’t understand, would start looking at him differently. But maybe Kira wouldn’t. Besides the fact she was a doctor and probably a little more open-minded, a pure light shone within her—one that helped her see the good in people, no matter who they were or what they’d done. Still, the fear of discovery was so deeply ingrained within him, he didn’t know how to get to a place where he could bring himself to tell her, no matter how he told himself he could trust her.
“You’re trying to find the answers, right? To why the stunner affects me. To how I healed.”
“I think I already know.” Her words weren’t much louder than a whisper, her gaze roaming over his face. She shifted closer until nothing but the scant few millimeters of the bars separated them.
“You do?” Apprehension about anyone knowing the truth, a flicker of surprise, flared. Could she have really worked it out?
She nodded, hands coming up to wrap around his on the bars. “The Reidar. They took you, did some kind of experiments.”
Unexpectedly, disappointment streamed through him just as potent as the relief that his true heritage was safe for another day. It’d been a stretch to think she’d come to the right conclusion, because it was almost even farther from the realm of possibility than the shape-shifting aliens. If Kira couldn’t work it out, he had no worry anyone else would.
“Is that what Rian thinks as well?” Maybe he could latch on and ride it for as long as it took to escape.
Her hands tightened on his. “If you don’t want to tell us the details, don’t want to relive that, I completely understand. And the details aren’t what Rian wants from you. We just need to know it happened.”
Christ, he wanted to let her think it was the reason behind everything, but stupidly, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. “That didn’t happen to me.”
“Maybe you don’t remember—”
“No, Kira. It’s not the answer.”
An almost pleading, empathetic gleam lit her eyes, and she set her face nearly against the bars, leaving her mouth too temptingly close. “Then what is the answer, Varean? Tell me so I can help you.”
He lifted a hand to cup her cheek. “It’s not you I don’t trust.”
“Then trust that I can handle whatever it is for you.”
“I can barely handle it myself,” he murmured. He needed to let her go and move back. He could feel his abilities stirring at the base of his skull, a warm, deep vibration, like listening to a blues guitar riff on a balmy evening. But for all the pain and confusion of the past days, for all the fighting of the newly awakened, aggressive, uncontrolled parts of himself, the sensations expanding within him were simple. And even better, they smothered that hostile mutation that’d been getting stronger and harder to ignore.
So instead of letting her go, instead of doing the smart thing and putting some distance between them, he tilted his head and touched his lips lightly to hers.
He’d expect
ed to surprise her, to find her hesitant or to simply pull away from him. She reacted, but it was to press against the bars and deepen the kiss, her hand finding the back of his neck, shooting sensation down his spine, along with a bursting reverberation of his abilities. It lit up his body like a flash grenade, making him shudder from head to toe. Kira gasped against his mouth and pushed away, but only far enough to stare at him.
Before she could say anything, he shifted from the bars, shuffling back a number of steps as he tried to catch his breath and shove his powers back into the recesses of his mind where he’d kept them with no trouble for the past decade. It was just another demonstration of how far out of control he was getting. For someone who’d prided himself on always being bound and stalwart, the downward spiral he was on was almost laughable.
Kira stepped back from her side of the bars, fingers lingering over her mouth. There was no doubt in his mind she’d just gotten a hint of his abilities for a second time.
“Get changed while I go get you some food, because I’ll have to make sure you put the cuffs on when I come back.”
He glanced at the pile of clean clothes, then scanned the sweat and blood covering his skin where his ruined shirt gaped open. “I don’t suppose a shower is on the cards?”
Her expression took on an uncertain edge.
Before she could refuse, he pressed, “There’s no point in putting on clean clothes when I’m still sweaty and blood-spattered.”
Her lips tilted up in a half grin. “Who would have thought a commando would be so picky about personal hygiene? I can’t bring you up to any of the wash facilities. The best I can do is a bucket.”
“I’ll take whatever I can get.”
“Okay. I’ll return in a few minutes.” She turned and hurried off down the passageway.
Though Kira and her life were clearly none of his business, he was starting to feel more than a little concerned about the doc and her situation. Kissing her certainly hadn’t helped that sentiment.
She was obviously a highly trained and skilled surgeon. He’d seen enough military medic hacks in his time to know a first-rate practitioner when he came across one. And her accent had the definite upper-class, rounded elocution of someone who’d grown up in the central systems. So how and why had she ended up playing nurse to a bunch of sociably and legally questionable people like the crew of the Imojenna? Maybe he needed to take those facts into account against his blind desire to trust her, which was certainly led by a senseless appendage south of his belt.
He sighed and wiped at a trickle of sweat running down the side of his face before taking a long swallow from the bottle of water.
Another, heavier tread of steps came toward him, accompanied by a metallic clanging noise. Callan appeared carrying a length of chain, a hard, wary expression on his face.
“I heard you done some miraculous healing while we were offship.” Callan stopped a few steps from the bars—smartly out of reaching range—swinging the heavy chains back and forth.
“No offense, but I’m sure you’ll understand if I’m not in the mood for chitchat with the guy who carved a hole in my middle.”
Callan nodded, almost thoughtfully. “Yeah, that was some real pretty knife work. ’Course, you deserved it, the way you were trying to crush my windpipe.”
He crossed his arms, the sight of those chains starting to make his skin itch. He wasn’t against being locked in the brig, but he damn well didn’t need to be leashed.
“You know what it’s like in the heat of battle, in that moment when the fury gets the better of you. I went too far, but you stabbed me. I’d say we’re even.”
“This ain’t about getting even.” Callan clinked the chains into the bars as he stepped up to the lock. “This is about what’s smart for the people of this crew security-wise, and you’ve proven yourself to be a threat.”
“And I can agree with that.” He worked to keep his tone reasonable, but anger was beginning to stir, tensing his muscles. That uncontrolled belligerence within him getting free too fast and too easily. “So I’ll stay in this brig and won’t try to get out until Rian decides to cut me loose. The chains aren’t necessary.”
“See, I think they are. And what with the homicidal mood the cap’tin’s in right now, I’m pretty sure he’d agree.”
The rage inside him was like a low growl getting louder until it became a roar. “You step one foot inside this cell, friend, and this time I won’t be the one in the ship’s R and R unit.”
Callan pooled the chains into his left hand and slowly drew the stunner with his right. Goddamn it. He’d frecking had enough of getting pulsed with those things.
“Sorry, friend, but I’ll be stepping foot inside that cell, all right, and you’ll take it like a stoned waystation whore.”
He started to take half a step forward, but Callan let off a single round from the stunner.
The pulse hit his midsection and sent him staggering back under a wave of burning hot pinpricks exploding in every cell of his body. Jezus. He stumbled to his knees, trying to suck air into lungs that had stalled. Distantly, he heard the cell door open, and no matter that he wanted to drag his head up and lunge for the scum bastard, none of his muscles were connected to his brain. Goddamn, but the stunner hurt more every time they used it on him, like an electrical burn ripping through each atom.
The cuffs were unceremoniously slapped around his wrists, then came the hissing jingle of the chain. His arms were pulled above his head, and his whole body jerked upward.
He clenched his jaw, forcing his jellied muscles to harden so he could bear his own weight and take the pressure off his wrists. His knees buckled twice before he could brace himself. But even though he’d managed to get up, the pulling on his arms continued until they were stretched uncomfortably above him.
“Callan! What the hell are you doing?” The doc’s pissed-off voice cut through the haze, pulling him out as effectively as a lifeline on a dead ship, and he lifted his head far enough to see her rushing into the brig. “This is not necessary.”
“Yeah, well I say it is. People who try to kill me get chained up. End of story.”
She shot Callan an angry glare as she passed him. The doc came over to grip his chin, flashing a light in front of his eyes, then pressing her fingers to his throat just above his collarbone.
“What did you do to him?”
“Used the stunner. You think I was dumb enough to step in here without neutering the bastard first?”
She turned on Callan with a furious expression. “You stunned him with an experimental weapon less than an hour after he came out of the R and R unit from suffering a critical wound? Just how dumb are you? Who knows what it’s done—?”
“What it’s done is subdue the guy who tried to choke me. Not to mention he threatened to space you the first day he was aboard. Or are you forgetting how that went down?” Callan stepped closer, looming over her in a way that was meant to be nothing but intimidating.
While just the sight of the gorilla was enough to make him furious before, seeing him trying to frighten and terrorize the smaller doc made the last of the stunner’s effects drain away like a retreating wave.
He straightened, clenching his hands around the chains at his wrists. But Kira didn’t seem too worried about Callan’s antics, staring at him with just as much ferocity in her expression.
“Take those chains down.”
“If you want him out of those chains, you can take that up with the cap’tin. But a sane person would have to be hankering for one hell of a death wish to be pushing him on anything right now.”
With one last glare, Callan pivoted and stalked out of the cell, disappearing into the shadows of the passageway that ran into the cargo bay.
Kira sighed then turned to look up at him. “I’m sorry. This is unacceptable. But Callan’s too shifty to get pickpocketed, and considering the mood Rian is in, I shouldn’t risk it anyway. I’ll get you down as soon as I can, but for the time being, you’r
e going to have to stay like that.”
“Don’t get yourself in a tizz about it, Doc.” His voice came out hoarse, the back of his throat dry. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been chained up.”
An unfortunate truth—there’d been an entire week’s worth of training dedicated solely to getting tied up. The memory of getting chained upside down in a tank of icy water still had the power to make him shudder.
With a look of stern determination, she went over to where Callan had secured the chains. From this angle, he couldn’t see how it had been done, but he heard enough of the doc rattling around and muttering under her breath to know she couldn’t loosen it.
She returned to stand in front of him, shoulders slumped. “I hate to leave you like this, but if I’m going to fix this situation, I can’t do it from here.”
“It’s been at least a week since I hit the gym. I’ll do a few pull-ups and we’ll call this extreme resistance training.”
She glanced up, exasperated. “How can you still have a sense of humor after almost being killed twice and being chained in the bowels of a ship that’s lucky if it’s a step above a garbage compactor?”
“You make it easier to bear.” He clamped his lips closed after the unintended words slipped out. Goddamn. Obviously his brain still wasn’t firing on all cylinders after taking that hit from the Reidar stunner.
She stilled, staring up at him with green eyes that would probably haunt his dreams for years to come. As they took a moment to really look at each other, the realization that the words were entirely true sank into the depths of his being. This situation was a hell the likes of which he’d been trained for, but hoped to never face. Yet Kira, with her metium-reinforced backbone and contrasting tender compassion, made this whole thing an anomaly, like some weird dream that kept swinging back and forth between a nightmare and a fantasy.
“I won’t let them keep you like this.” The fierce determination was back in her expression, like a warrior preparing for battle.
Diffraction (Atrophy) Page 9
