CHAPTER 52
l refuse to show fear. “You don’t
know them as well as I do.”
For the first time,
I’m glad March isn’t here. I prefer he never finds out how much
crazy runs up and down my family tree.
“You’re expecting
them to burst in and take me hostage, Sirantha?” Ramona lofts a
brow in gentle skepticism. “Keller and his team can handle them.
You didn’t honestly think Grubb and Boyle were our best, did you?
There’s a reason I culled you from the herd now, darling. I didn’t want you caught in the cross
fire.”
“I don’t think you
realize you caught one of Madame Kang’s best when you cast your
net.” A shot in the dark, because surely Keller mentioned
it.
The name means
nothing to me, but it inspired fear in her hired goons. Maybe it’ll
affect my mother the same way.
Her eyes widen, and
something swirls in their empty depths. “Lies. All Kang’s girls
died when we raided her on Gehenna.”
“Not all,” Hit calls.
“She may be gone, but I remember everything she taught me. You sent
ten men for four of us?” Her laugh rings out.
From another
direction, echoing oddly, I hear Jael’s voice. “You underestimated
Jax’s crew. Bet you rue that later.”
“If we let you,” Vel
adds.
I can’t tell where
any of them are. It sounds like they’ve got the place surrounded,
though, and I assume they’re all armed. So does Ramona. She makes a
great show of holding up her hands.
“You win,” she says
lightly. But fury seethes in her eyes. “I’m helpless now. Show
yourselves so I can surrender.”
She’s weak as a boa
constrictor, but they’re not stupid enough to fall for that. Dina
and Constance remain unaccounted for, but it makes sense if they
went ahead to the ship. Neither of them would be much help in a
fight.
Jael steps from
behind an ornate decorative screen, spattered in blood and gore.
And I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life. I take a step
toward him, but he holds up a hand.
“No, I need to deal
with her first. It pisses me off when people I don’t know try to
kill me in my sleep. Well . . . where I would’ve been sleeping,
anyway, if I wasn’t such a chary bastard.”
Ramona lifts her
chin. “Just make it quick.”
This is where I’m
supposed to intervene, stop him from killing her. Instead I turn my
back. I expect to hear the quick whine of a laser pistol, but when
I glance over my shoulder, I find Jael tying her up. He gags her
before she can say we haven’t seen the last of her, or promise to
make us sorry.
I’m already sorry
she’s related to me. Does that count? I watch him wind the thin
filament around her wrists. If she struggles too hard, she’ll cut
herself.
“I thought you don’t
like leaving anyone alive on your backtrail.”
He shrugs. “I can’t
kill an unarmed woman. Call me old-fashioned. But you can shoot her
if you want.”
“She’s my mother,” I
point out.
“So that means you
can’t shoot her?”
For a moment, I
consider asking Hit to do it. I certainly can’t. Though I suspect
I’ll regret letting Ramona live, I just don’t have that much ice in
my veins. I hope she’ll walk away, leaving me out of her schemes
after this.
“Pretty much.” I
can’t be the reason she’s killed. If nothing else, her hungry,
junkie spirit made me who—and what—I am today.
“Then let’s get the
hell out of here before more goons turn up.” With that, he signals
to the others that we’re moving out. “Thankfully she didn’t send
all her guys after us, or we might’ve had some trouble.”
The way he looks,
they did have some, but I don’t speak, mainly because our trot
steals my breath. I need to do some endurance training one of these
days. One hand clamped against my side, I try to keep up with
Jael’s long, loping strides.
He’s apparently been
studying the layout because he makes the turns with surety, leading
us from the central salon to the corridor that adjoins the docking
area. The walls become less decorative, more functional, and tile
gives way to plain plaster.
Footsteps echo
through the hallway behind us.
“Fuck. She called
them faster than I gave her credit for. I should’ve shot
her.”
We’re nearly to the
private docking bay. I don’t know how we’re getting out, but as
laser fire comes hot and hard on our heels, I hope like hell they
have a plan. I dive and roll, coming to my feet around the
corner.
Jael still has the
pistol he was playing with in Dina’s room, so he covers me. Orange
light flashes all around, searing the ground. I hope Hit and Vel
got here before us because it looks like the party’s in full swing.
I can’t tell how many guys Ramona has left, but she should’ve sent
them all at my crew at once. The ragtag remainder fires on us,
thinking they can keep us pinned down.
Thing is, lasers
can’t kill Jael. So he shoves me along toward the shuttle, taking
hit after hit. He groans low in his throat, but he doesn’t falter,
and Dina pulls us on board. She slams a palm on the comm panel, and
barks, “Let’s go!”
“Roger that,” comes
Hit’s disembodied voice. “Hang on, it might get rough.”
The shuttle engines
fire up, drowning out the sound of lasers striking the hull. If we
don’t get a move on, we might be looking at a breach; and then
we’re fucked. Damn, I can’t get my breath.
“What took you so
long?” the mechanic demands.
“Everyone else here?”
I bend over, hands on knees.
“Yeah. After she
warned us about the change in plan, Constance came in with me, and
we prepped the ship. The other three killed a few guys, and saved
your ass.”
The understatement
makes me smile. We lurch as Hit takes us up, and Dina swears
beneath her breath when she slams into the wall. I hear more than
see her head for the seats. We all need to strap in.
When my vision stops
sparkling from oxygen deprivation, I straighten and check on Jael.
Propped up against the wall, he looks pale and clammy, eyes
clenched tight. He smells of smoke and charred flesh, so a shudder
runs through me when I step closer. But he’s not dead like the
victims on the Sargasso.
He needs me.
Steadying myself with
a deep breath, I wrap an arm around his waist. “I’ve got you, come
on. They left the last two seats for us.”
A muffled explosion
rocks the ship, and at first I think we’ve been hit, but instead of
crashing into the roof, we just keep going up. The shock field
doesn’t have full vertical coverage, so once we get some altitude
we’re home free.
There’s only the
cockpit and a small hub on this boxy little skiff, so we don’t have
far to go. I see Dina sitting beside Vel, so Constance must be up
front with the pilot. Jael collapses, and I nearly go down with him
before I get my balance.
I know firsthand just
how excruciating burns can be. Even through layers of narcotics, I
remember lying in medical, feeling each one of my nerve endings
curl and char over and over again. There’s no pain like it.
“What can I
do?”
Eyes still closed, he
takes my hand in his. Damn near pulverizes my knuckles. In fact,
given my bone condition, fractures might result. Since he took the
shots for me, I’ll take this. It’ll heal. Maybe slower than someone
else, but I’m not weak.
I refuse to
be.
“This . . . really
fucking stings,” he gasps, after a moment. “No matter how many
times I’m shot, I never get used to it. Just . . . glad they didn’t
have disruptors. Talk about painful.”
“You can heal even
that?” I ask without thinking.
Jael raises haunted
eyes to mine. “Yeah. Even that.”
He’d only know that
if he’d healed the damage from it. I want to ask when. Was it in a
battle he chose, or part of inhuman lab testing? He doesn’t talk
about his early life, before the government disbanded the program,
and cut the survivors loose.
In a way, I probably
understand him better than anyone. I’m pretty damn close to Bred
myself, though I’m not ready to talk about it. What kind of freak
am I, conceived in grimspace? I wonder if that has anything to do
with why technology breaks down around me. Doc would want to run
tests, but he’s on Lachion, healing the wounded from a war he won’t
fight.
“You’ll be all
right.” I force a smile and brush back a burnished lock of
sweat-damp hair, intending it as a casual, appreciative
gesture.
But Jael leans his
forehead against my palm. His eyelids drift down as if my touch
offers some unfamiliar benediction. Tremors course through him in
waves, and I can almost sense the reparation of damaged cells,
wracking him. He acts like he needs this small point of contact for
reasons I can’t begin to delve.
“Looks like we’re
clear,” Hit announces over the comm. “I got stars on the screen and
no sign of pursuit.”
“Yet. They will find
us if we are not collected by another vessel,” Vel says.
Drawing back before I
yield to the urge to hug Jael, I tap the comm panel on the arm of
my seat. “Turn on the distress signal, and let’s hope for the
best.”
