GABRIEL (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 4)

by Marilyn Campbell

  Chapter 7

  Shara crawled out of the pouch and huddled in a corner of the tent. If Gabriel was about to have another attack, he was going to suffer this one on his own.

  The starlight, combined with the dim glow from the heater orb, illuminated the tent enough for her to see how the fever progressed. She sympathized with him as muscle spasms racked his body and he began clawing at his neck and chest as if biting insects were eating him alive.

  His groan of pain was so excruciating, she had to stop herself from going to him. There was really nothing she could do to help and she had no intention of becoming part of any hallucination he might be having this time.

  Shara.

  She heard it clearly, the voice from her dream, but it didn't seem to have come from Gabriel.

  Shara.

  Panic trapped the air in her lungs. Her name hadn't been said aloud. It was thought to her. But Gabriel had no such ability, nor was she touching his temple to read him. And yet she was intuitively certain it was Gabriel calling her.

  She wiped at the annoying film of perspiration on her upper lip. It seemed incredible that his body temperature could be so high that it heated the entire tent but that seemed to be the case.

  Gabriel thrashed from side to side, kicking at the confining pouch and moaning in pain and frustration. She could do something to help a little, she realized. Careful to keep out of his reach, she freed him from the pouch and opened the tent flap a fraction of an inch to let in a draft of icy air.

  The cold was such a relief from the suffocating heat, she knelt in front of the opening and let the biting wind curl around her. Still, it was not enough to cool her. Urgently tugging at her clothing, she stripped to the skin and opened the tent flap a bit more.

  Come to me, Shara.

  She whirled around, expecting to see Gabriel right behind her, but he was where he had been, curled in a fetal position and twitching uncontrollably.

  Help me!

  The desperation in the words almost rent her in half. The cold air was so soothing, yet she felt compelled to obey his call.

  Something crawled up her arm and she brushed at it, but she could see nothing there. She scratched at the skin where she had brushed to ease the itch left behind. An insect must have invaded their shelter! A few seconds later, a similar itch irritated her neck then her other arm. She suddenly felt as though her nerve endings had moved to the outside of her flesh.

  I need you.

  The words stroked her body as if they had substance. Despite the cold at her back, fingers of fire caressed her breasts and danced between her naked thighs, creating a burning need that even the freezing wind could not cool.

  You need me.

  Her perspiring body trembled from the effort it took to remain where she was rather than give in to her weakness.

  Suddenly awareness flashed through her discomfort. She was suffering from all the same symptoms as Gabriel. The virus had affected her after all. She wasn't hearing his thoughts. She was hallucinating! Without her realizing it, the mysterious fever had taken control of her mind as well as her body. While logic remained, she closed the flap, no matter how good the cold felt at the moment.

  A pounding drum had taken up residence between her thighs, demanding immediate appeasement. The fever seemed to begin and end at the core of her womanhood. Her fingers confirmed the excessive dampness she knew would be there but it was not her own touch that her body craved.

  She cried aloud from the pain of a need so great she would surely die if it went unsatisfied, yet she continued to fight against it.

  Until her mind could fight no more and retreated into darkness.

  * * *

  "Shara? Are you asleep?"

  She heard his voice and knew it was him and not the fever talking, but held her response in order to analyze the situation.

  She was lying on top of him, naked, and she could feel him deep inside her. How could she not remember how she had gotten there? With her next breath, she realized her body's temperature had returned to normal, as had his, and she could feel the chill in the air from when she had opened the flap. The fever that had driven her to the brink of sanity was gone. The overpowering desire that had held her in thrall was now only a mild humming through her body.

  What sort of virus would carry so many radical symptoms and yet be completely neutralized by sexual gratification? Before she could give that question further consideration, Gabriel's shaft throbbed within her and her own muscles clenched around him in automatic response.

  "Shara, as good as this is to wake up to, I have the distinct impression I've missed something again."

  With an embarrassed groan, she separated their bodies and eased to his side. The light tone of his voice contrasted with the humiliation she felt at finding herself in such an intimate situation and not knowing how it had come about. Only the concern in his eyes gave her the courage to speak.

  "You had another... seizure a while ago. However, it now appears I have contracted the same virus. The symptoms seem to be identical. High fever, tremors, oversensitive skin, possibly brought on by agitated nerves—everything, exactly like that night. Unlike you, though, I was wide awake, at least for a while. I heard a voice call me, like in my dream, only this time I knew it was you. I heard you in my mind. Or I thought I did. It must have been a hallucination brought on by the fever. I blacked out. I swear to the Supreme Being, I have no idea how I came to you, or... or..."

  Gabriel stroked her cheek. "Considering the position we were in when I awoke, I will assume I did not force myself on you this time."

  She couldn't meet his eyes but she shook her head. "No, I... I believe it was I who took you. I'm afraid I don't remember."

  Gabriel couldn't resist a small joke. "Doesn't say much for either one of us, does it?"

  Shara made a face at him and sat up. With a quick scan of the tent, she located their discarded jumpers and tossed his onto his lap. "I don't see any humor in this situation."

  "No, I don't suppose you would." As they both dressed, he suddenly became angry. Very angry. And he wasn't going to put up with her bad humor or unreasonableness another minute! "You know something? You're right. There's nothing funny about this situation at all. But it's not my fault and I'm sick and tired of you treating me like it is."

  Shara turned on him in shock. "I never said this was your fault!"

  "Hah!" Her denial fueled his frustration. "Every time I get near you, you flinch away. Every look you give me is suspicious. Drek, woman! You touched my mind. You know I don't have the power to manipulate you."

  "Then who is doing it?" she shouted back at him. "What's happening to me?"

  "I certainly don't know but losing your temper isn't the way to figure it out!"

  Breathing heavily, they both glared at each other for several seconds as if deciding whether to escalate their fight to physical blows.

  Belatedly, the perverse humor in this situation struck Shara and she quelled the urge to laugh. "I never lose my temper," she stated as seriously as possible.

  He noted her attempt to smother a smile and felt his anger slip away as quickly as it had come upon him. "Neither do I. Shall we find someone else to blame for our loss of reason as well as our bodily control?"

  Now she felt foolish. She hated these quicksilver mood changes she had been going through but without understanding the cause, she didn't know how to control them. "I'm open to suggestions."

  He was relieved to hear that, though he wondered just how open she'd remain. "I told you I had only seen these symptoms one time before. Until you were stricken, I was certain it couldn't be the same problem, but now I think we may have to consider the possibility."

  When he hesitated, Shara assumed the worst. "Is it... incurable?"

  "Not normally. Before I explain, please understand, I'm only guessing. I could be completely wrong."

  Growing more impatient by the second, Shara insisted, "Just tell me and get it over with."

  "The
man I referred to was a Noronian also. The joining ceremony with his chosen mate-to-be was scheduled to take place in a short time. She had to make a brief business trip and was delayed in returning. By the third day of her absence, his mating fever became so intense, he descended into a deep coma."

  Like every Noronian, Shara had been taught that she had someone destined to be her mate. When Noronians' mating time arrived, usually about halfway through their lives, and the two people found each other, they would be stricken with the mating fever. Normally the couple realized they were meant for each other right away and joined so that the fever had little or no chance to be bothersome. The formal joining was physical, mental and spiritual, as their minds became one in two bodies and their souls joined for all eternity.

  Gabriel was waiting for Shara to draw her own conclusions, but she needed more input. "What were his symptoms?" she asked, hoping his answer would differ from what she expected him to say.

  "High fever, itching, red corneas, violent body tremors and finally the coma. During all of it, his body remained in an aroused condition. He would become violent if anyone tried to touch him. His mate-to-be returned, coupled with him, repeatedly, and he had a miraculous recovery."

  "It can't be the same," she stated firmly, shaking her head.

  He shrugged. "You're the scientist. Consider the facts. We're both Noronian. Your Terran ancestry is recessive. The symptoms we are both suffering are most definitely those of the mating fever and we are relieved by coupling... whether we remember doing it or not. Even the first time seemed somewhat mind-stealing, especially when you had so vehemently denied any desire to couple with me before."

  "No. No! It can't be. There is no way we could be destined for each other. We weren't instantly drawn together by a strong physical attraction. When my father first saw my mother, even though she was an Outerworlder and forbidden to him, he knew. Nothing could keep him from being with her. And my mother had had dreams of him long before she arrived in Innerworld. She recognized him as the man from her dreams the moment she saw him. You and I don't even like each other half the time. It's impossible."

  "I agree. It's absolutely impossible. I shouldn't reach my mating age for another thirty or forty years and you're even younger than I am."

  Shara frowned. "When my parents joined, they were almost the same ages we are now, as were my father's parents. I'm afraid age is not a valid negative in my case. There is a possibility that my time could have come but instead of being with my intended mate—"

  "Wrong. It doesn't work that way and you know it. Only one's true soulmate should be able to put out the fire for someone in the throes of the mating fever."

  "But only one's true soulmate should be able to trigger it to begin with. Do you honestly believe I am yours?" His automatic expression of dismay added a bit more acid to her caustic speech. "Of course you don't. No more than I believe you could be mine. When I find my mate, I'll know it's him the moment our eyes meet. When he puts his hand on mine, I'll feel tingles of electricity run up my arm. We'll have loads of things in common and he'll love me, unconditionally, for myself. Not because I'm a mixed-breed, or who my father is, or what I can do for him!"

  Though he couldn't quite understand his reaction to her little speech, he felt that he had been insulted. "Your conception of finding a mate sounds very romantic and if that's the way it's supposed to be, I'm sure it will happen for you. I have a few preconceived notions of my own. If I am destined to have a mate, she would have to be an experienced traveler, have a mild disposition, a good sense of humor and a rational, mature attitude about physical contact—none of which describes you."

  He noticed how she bristled at his words but he continued before she could start another argument. "Personally, I hope I never find a mate. Not only do I prefer a solitary life, I am adamantly opposed to altering my lifestyle or my career to satisfy another person's comforts or interests. I've spent half my life running away from having people inside my head. The last thing in the universe I want is to join with a female who would become a permanent fixture in my mind."

  "Good," Shara said stiffly, telling herself his negative opinion of her character didn't matter in the slightest. "We're in agreement then. Whatever this is, it cannot be the actual mating fever. Perhaps it's a mutation of it. The only thing I can figure is that something happened during the time-hop that affected our bodies' metabolisms, triggering the same symptoms as we would have experienced during our mating time and because we were physically touching at that moment, we each became the target of the other's, um..."

  "Desire?" he finished for her then tried to respond in the same clinical manner she had used. "Continuing with that assumption, perhaps there's a logical reason why the fever is reaching a peak while one or both of us is unconscious. Neither one of us is willing to accept the fact that we are destined to be mates. Though I have demonstrated a desire to couple with you, you firmly rejected my advances... with one notable exception." He paused to see if she would blush for him. She did, and he considerately held back his knowing grin. At least whatever caused the sparks of hostility between them had vanished.

  "I would never consciously force you to satisfy that desire. Therefore, let me suggest another possibility that should at least be considered. Although we do not accept this situation as the genuine mating fever, our souls may not share our attitude on the subject. Those entities may have taken it out of our hands by forcing us together without our conscious participation."

  Shara held up both hands in protest. "I cannot accept that theory. I do not believe for one moment that a spiritual power has taken over our minds and bodies to force us to... to... have sexual relations against our will. For that matter, it could be some alien being that we picked up during the time-hop who's getting a vicarious thrill through us."

  Though she was clearly upset and perfectly serious, Gabriel couldn't stop himself from laughing. "At the very least we should be allowed to enjoy ourselves while we're performing."

  "Very funny."

  "I'm sorry. This situation seems to have put me in a peculiar mood. However, I do have another, more constructive thought. If this is a mutation of the mating fever and it was caused by the time-hop, another might take it away again."

  "I certainly hope so. I don't care to repeat the last two nights indefinitely."

  "Nor do I. What do you suggest, madame scientist?"

  Shara pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to analytically separate her feelings from the facts of their dilemma. "The only permanent cure to the mating fever is to be joined. That solution is obviously unacceptable. We are also agreed that the fever may disappear during another time-hop. If not, it can surely be dealt with medically once we return to our own time. Therefore, all we need is a temporary cure for the symptoms."

  "Which, as we have already discovered firsthand, is coupling. Agreed?"

  Shara took a deep breath. "Yes. Agreed."

  "Since I have made it quite clear that I have no objection to sharing my body with you, it is up to you to set aside whatever personal resentments you're harboring and be reasonable—"

  "I am not unreasonable, nor do I resent you... precisely. Just because my attitude toward intimacy differs from yours—"

  "Enough. There is no need for further debate on the matter. I am doing my utmost to look at our problem in a purely scientific manner." Perhaps it was a remnant from the fever but he was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain a serious expression. "We both need our wits about us to get through whatever lies ahead. And if that means it becomes necessary from time to time to satisfy our... biological urges... I can only recommend that we do so. As efficiently as possible, of course."

  She saw a twinkle in his eye and suspected he was secretly delighted that she was being coerced into agreeing to the one thing she most wanted to avoid. Under the circumstances however, she had no logical rebuttal.

  When she made no reply, he took her hand in his and shook it in a very businesslike manner
. "It's agreed then. I will expect you to tell me when you need me to accommodate you and I will do the same. Before the fever becomes a hindrance or steals our consciousness." Without looking at him directly, she gave him a brief nod, despite the fact that she had no idea where she would ever find the nerve to ask him for such a favor if such a need arose again.

  Gabriel lifted her chin. "Did you get any sleep?"

  "Not unless you count my blackout. You?"

  "Enough. If you require a nap, I can—"

  "No. Thank you. I keep thinking about the cataclysm. I'm sure that has to be the event that pulled us here. We could even be sitting in the area where the asteroid hit. In which case, we might not have the ten seconds we'd need to escape."

  Gabriel rubbed his jaw. "I was thinking the same thing. Do you want to try to return?"

  "Give me one more hour... and some light. If I can't come up with anything better, we'll reverse the hop we did."

  Gabriel fixed them a meal, recovered the barriers from outside and stowed everything in his satchel except the tent, while Shara went through Lantana's notes and examined the tempometer one last time.

  "I don't believe it!" she exclaimed. "It was so simple, I completely overlooked it."

  "What?" Gabriel asked, instantly catching her excitement.

  "What's the difference between twelve thousand and a million two hundred thousand?"

  He angled his head at her. "A million one hundred eighty eight thousand?"

  "No. Two zeros. Lantana didn't come out and state it anywhere but there are references I should have picked up on. He worked with a base of a hundred. Instead of one year equals one, one year equals one hundred." She was astounded that she could have missed something so easy. Gabriel's suggestion that spiritual forces were involved in what was happening to them came back to her. Perhaps the same force had prevented her from seeing the obvious until she and Gabriel had come to an agreement of sorts. Again, she firmly rejected that possibility.