“Ja-rael! Thank Minoa I found you! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Ja-rael stared at the man for several moments before a spark of recognition dawned. He plastered a perfunctory smile on his lips, searching his mind a little frantically for the man’s name and coming up empty. “I’ve been away--bartering for a mate.”
The man stared at him blankly for several moments, glanced at the package under Ja-rael’s arm and finally emitted a stilted laugh. “And you succeeded, yes? I can see you’re anxious to get back to her.”
Ja-rael’s responding smile was a little easier that time. “Yes,” he admitted, trying not to sound as anxious as he was. “She is the most beautiful creature under Minoa’s sun.”
Clautz--Ja-rael finally recalled his name--forced a grin. “I have no doubt, and you of all those I know deserve to find such a prize.”
Every man claimed his mate was beautiful beyond compare, and very likely many thought so, for any mate at all was a gift from Minoa, but it rarely transpired that everyone agreed with the fortunate male once they’d seen his prize. Ja-rael could see the skepticism in this man’s face and a sense of pride filled him, and amusement to imagine what Clautz would think when he saw his Leez, who truly was so beautiful she could take one’s breath. “You must bring your mate to visit her once we have settled.”
Clautz’s face fell. “She is not well. That is why I’ve been looking for you so desperately. I know you have your own business to attend to at the moment, but please--just come and look at her and tell me she will be alright and I won’t trouble you further.”
Concern instantly supplanted his anxiety to be gone. “What is wrong?”
Clautz glanced around and lowered his voice. “She labors to bring our off-spring into this world, but it seems to me she has labored far too long. I expect I am over-anxious, it being our first ….”
Ja-rael felt his heart clench, but he couldn’t recall that Zelia was due to deliver any time soon. “How long?”
“Since yesterday.”
Ja-rael relaxed fractionally. “It is a long time to labor, but it is her first also. Very likely there is no problem, but I will come with you and have a look at her.”
The man’s sense of relief was such that Ja-rael could see he was controlling the emotional wave that followed it only with an effort. “Yes! Thank you! I’ve brought my glider and won’t detain you long.”
Ja-rael shook off both the thanks and the apology and followed Clautz quickly to where he’d parked his glider. When he’d stowed his package and climbed into the passenger seat, Clautz opened the solar sails and within moments the sleek craft had lifted away from the market and shot toward the northern perimeter of the city. Twenty minutes later the craft settled on the square before Clautz’s domicile with a heavy thud. Ja-rael exited quickly, more because of his relief that Clautz, who’d exhibited his anxiety in hair-raising flight, had managed a safe landing than his worry about the patient. That changed the moment he was ushered into Zelia’s chambers. He scarcely recognized the writhing, bloated creature on the great bed in the center of the room. Striding toward her, he leaned over the bed and began to speak to her soothingly while he examined her. “Zelia, what happened?”
She opened her eyes to look at him. He saw recognition, and then her gaze slid away. “I don’t know,” she said plaintively.
Ja-rael caught her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “You do know. You were not due to deliver for weeks. Has--did Clautz do something?”
Zelia opened her eyes long enough to focus on Clautz accusingly. “Besides this, you mean?” she said, gesturing toward her bloated abdomen.
Ja-rael straightened, his eyes narrowing on Clautz. “Did she fall?”
Clautz looked terrified. “Ja-rael! You know me! You know I wouldn’t harm her. I love her with every fiber of my being! How could you even think I’d do anything to harm her--especially now when she is so fragile?”
Ja-rael studied him hard for several moments, but he could see nothing to indicate Clautz was being evasive or dishonest.
“He wouldn’t let me go to the King’s celebration,” Zelia gasped.
The comment brought Ja-rael’s head swiveling back toward her sharply. He leaned toward her again, speaking low now. “What did you do?” he asked harshly.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
He caught her jaw again, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You know I will find out--but it could be too late to help you. Tell me!”
“I took melanine--just a small amount to make me a little ill so that he would be sorry he’d been so mean.”
Ja-rael felt a little ill himself. “How small an amount? When?” He knew it was pointless to ask, however. It had induced her labor early and Clautz had already said that she’d been laboring for a full day. It was far too late to try to get it out of her system. He could do nothing now but try to repair whatever damage she’d done to herself.
He was relieved, however, to discover it actually had been a very small amount. If she’d been so foolish and spiteful as to have taken more there would have been no hope for her or their offspring. As it was, he had grave doubts the cub would survive.
When he glanced at Clautz again, he saw the man was looking so crushed he seemed in imminent danger of needing medical attention himself. “Clautz!”
Clautz’s head jerked up and he stared at Ja-rael in blind terror. “Is she--,” he paused, licking dried lips, “will she be alright?”
Ja-rael fought a round with his temper. “It was a stupid play for attention--but I think it will be alright. Go to my home and bring my instruments.” When Clautz merely stared at him blankly, he repeated the command, adding, “it will be much better if I stay with her than you.”
Nodding jerkily, Clautz yanked the door open and fled.
A sense of despair swept over Ja-rael as the man left. His Leez was alone. What if she needed him?
He shook the thought off. As far as he knew, she was probably suffering from nothing more than boredom. He couldn’t leave a woman he knew to be in need of his skills as a healer only because he was allowing his imagination to wreak havoc with his nerves.
Chapter Seventeen
The scent of males drifted faintly past Ja-rael’s nostrils. He paused jerkily, breathing more deeply. The scent was stronger then, giving the lie to the possibility that it was merely imagination, and rife with lust, both bloodlust and desire. As remote as the area was, Leez had been discovered.
Feeling a surge of adrenaline rush through his bloodstream despite his nearly unbearable weariness from four days of nearly no sleep and the exhaustion of expending so much effort in healing Zelia and her cub, Ja-rael dropped his packages and began to race along the almost invisible trail he’d been following through the deep woods. He skidded to a halt when he reached the clearing where he’d left his craft.
A large male was perched on the top of the ship, his heels braced against the lip of the gangplank as he tried to force it open far enough to climb inside.
“She is mine!” Ja-rael roared furiously.
The male had been so intent on what he was doing, he hadn’t even glanced up at Ja-rael’s arrival. The roar of challenge caught his attention instantly, however. Snarling, he leapt from the vessel and landed in a half crouch in the dirt beside it. “She is unclaimed!”
They launched themselves at each other then, colliding almost mid-air with a meaty thud before they hit the ground in a furious tangle and began wrestling for dominance. Weapons of any kind were forbidden and the male had already slashed Ja-rael along his side before he realized the male was armed. Surprise and then a fresh burst of fury washed through him. The blood he’d smelled made more sense now.
Grabbing the wrist that held the blade, Ja-rael surged upward, forcing his opponent over. Following as the male lost his balance and landed on his back, Ja-rael scrambled on top of him, straddling his opponent’s waist and pinning him to the ground with his weight. When he’d gained dominance, he tightened
his fist around the wrist he held, trying to paralyze the male’s hand. Growling like a beast, the man clung to the blade with desperation, trying to wrench free.
Gritting his teeth, Ja-rael squeezed harder, resisting every effort the other man made to buck him off. Finally, the blade dropped to the ground. Ja-rael scooped it up in a flash and dug the point of the blade in the male’s chest just deep enough to show him he meant business. “Yield! Now!” he growled through gritted teeth. “Or I swear by Minoa I’ll cut your heart out. I am a healer. I can remove it from your chest so quickly you will live to see me crush it!”
The fight went out of the male abruptly. “She was alone!” he said in a panting breath.
“But claimed, and you damned well knew it!” Ja-rael said furiously. “You simply chose to ignore my scent!”
The male looked away guiltily. After a few moments, Ja-rael eased the pressure against him. When he made no attempt to renew the fight, Ja-rael withdrew. The male studied him for several moments and finally scrambled to his feet and ran, disappearing into the thick woods.
Panting, Ja-rael got to his feet with an effort, watching for many moments to make certain the challenger wouldn’t return. When the male’s scent dwindled, he glanced down at the wound on his side and examined it. The gash was bleeding profusely. A wave of weakness washed over him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated with an effort. It was muscle tissue. No vital organs had been damaged. Cease! He commanded. His heart ceased to pound within his chest. The rhythm slowed to normal, and then dropped lower still. Pulling the two sides of the wound tightly together, he held his hand over it, commanding the flesh to mend. Ten minutes passed, fifteen, and then he began to feel the painful tightness as the new flesh entwined with the injured flesh. Cautiously, he pulled his hand away. The wound burned as the flesh tugged, trying to separate, but it held.
Ignoring the pain, he looked around at the clearing and then up at the gangplank. It had been pried open nearly six inches, he saw. If he’d been any longer in returning, the male would have had her.
Fresh anger went through him. With an effort, he tamped it and moved to the exterior control, keying in the security. The panel opened, but he discovered to his dismay that the mechanism was jammed and refused to respond to the controls. “Leez! It is I, Ja-rael.”
He listened, realizing for the first time that a deathly quiet had fallen over the clearing. “Leez!” he called, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.
He held his breath, listened acutely, but could not hear so much as a tiny rustle of movement. Fighting panic now, he moved back from the vessel, gauged the distance to the top of the gangway and launched himself toward it, catching the edge with his fingers. His side burned. As he scrambled to climb the slick side of the vessel, he felt a tear as the tender flesh gave way again and the warmth of new blood flow. Gritting his teeth, ignoring the burn, he struggled until he’d managed to lever himself onto the lip. When he’d braced himself and pushed at the gangplank for a few moments, he felt it give slightly. Stopping, he examined the opening and decided it was wide enough he could squeeze through. The blood slickened him enough to allow him to force his way through, otherwise he wasn’t certain he would’ve made it.
As he dropped to the gangway, his gaze flickered over the mechanism. He saw that one of the cooking vessels had been wedged between the gears, preventing the hatch from being opened completely. A faint smile curled his lips. Clever!
“Leez!” he called again, glancing around. When there was still no answer, he headed for the cabin.
She was lying on the bed, and so still his heart seemed to stop in his chest for several painful moments. He wasn’t even aware of surging toward her, only of falling to his knees beside the bed and lifting one limp hand. Her skin was hot and dry. For a split second, relief filled him when he realized she was alive, but she was perfectly limp and unresponsive. Placing her hand on the mattress once more, he lifted her eyelids, ran his hands over her. Her lips were dry and cracked.
A sickening thought occurred to him abruptly. Leaping to his feet, he strode quickly from one tap to another. Nothing but the sucking sound of air greeted him, not even so much as a single drop of water.
Cursing, he ran back down the gangway and wrenched the pot from the mechanism, pulling the lever to lower the gangplank. To his relief, it responded, sluggishly, bumping and halting, but it began to sink toward the ground. Grabbing a vessel from the galley, he ran down the plank, leaping to the ground and racing toward the stream nearby. The first thing that caught his eye when he reached the stream was the gleam of another vessel lodged against debris along the bank. He stared at it for several moments, then glanced around, fighting the anger that was quickly overshadowing reason. The brush was trampled in every direction. The mingling scents of four distinct males lingered lightly in the air.
She’d tried to get water and they’d been waiting for her!
For several moments, he couldn’t think at all. Such rage filled him that it threatened to completely consume him. The urge was strong to set out after them at once and tear them limb from limb. He stared blindly at the vessel digging into his palm from his tight grip. Leez was in serious trouble now, dehydrated, quite possibly beyond his ability to heal her. If he allowed his rage to control him, he would be condemning her to certain death.
Battling his rage to a standstill, he bent and scooped water into the vessel and hurried back to the ship.
* * * *
“Thought you weren’t coming back,” Elise muttered when she felt the blessed coolness of a cloth on her skin.
Ja-rael almost dropped the cloth from suddenly nerveless fingers. “Leez?” he murmured, hopeful, but disbelieving.
She didn’t respond and he simply stared at her for several moments, wondering if she’d actually spoken or if his exhaustion had made him hallucinate it. He had not slept for more than a handful of minutes in so long that he had no idea of what day it was or how long he’d been struggling to coax Leez back from the brink. He’d used everything he’d ever been taught to treat her and watched fearfully to see if she would respond. She did, but sluggishly, not nearly as well as he’d hoped, convinced himself that she would. The fear seized him and grew upon him that she was not even his kind. He knew nothing about treating humans. What if he was doing everything wrong? What if it was not enough? Too much? Or just the wrong thing entirely? He was just as fearful of trying to draw upon his inner healing. What if her physiology was so different he harmed her instead of helping?
Desperation had goaded him into trying. When he’d delved her mind in search of her spirit to aid him, he had felt the oneness that had mated them, had been certain that he was helping, but that had been at least a day ago and she had not appeared much improved.
He sat back on his heels wearily, silently commanding her to say something, to let him know that he hadn’t simply imagined that she’d spoken.
He saw the movement of her throat as she swallowed. “Thirsty,” she said, her voice plaintive, as hoarse and cracked as her dry lips, but unmistakable.
His heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the single word. A knot formed in his throat. Swallowing against it, he laughed a little shakily and bounded to his feet, snatching up the drinking vessel he’d left hopefully nearby. Scooping an arm around her shoulders, he lifted her carefully and placed the rim of the vessel against her lips. She took a sip that was almost microscopic, swallowing with a painful expression. Frowning, he insisted that she drink more. She complained but yielded to his demand until he was finally satisfied.
When he’d set the glass down once more, he climbed onto the bed beside her, sprawled out and lost consciousness. Movement shook him awake sometime later. His eyes felt as if they’d been glued shut, however. His body ached it every place that contained a nerve ending and his head felt as if it would explode. It took a tremendous effort to pry his eyelids open a slit to stare blearily, and without immediate comprehension at the ceiling above him. The bed shook again, drawin
g his attention, and he turned his head to see Leez struggling to sit up.
He shot up from the mattress as if he’d been catapulted upright, memory instantly flooding back. “What are you doing?” he demanded harshly.
Elise subsided, but obviously from weakness rather than from any concern about his displeasure. “I need to go,” she said irritably.
Shrugging off the aftereffects of such a deep sleep and swift awakening with an effort, Ja-rael slid to the edge of the bed and placed his feet on the floor, holding his pounding skull. “Go where?” he growled, equally ill-tempered.
When she didn’t answer, he dropped his hands and lifted his head to look at her questioningly.
She reddened. “Go--you know?”
He stared at her blankly for several moments before comprehension dawned. “You shouldn’t be up yet. I’ll get you something to use,” he added, standing with an effort and wavering almost drunkenly on his feet.
“Don’t you dare!” Elise snapped.
He stared down at her in dawning anger. “You’re in no condition to get up!”
“I know whether I can get up or not.”
His eyes narrowed. “So do it,” he suggested tightly.
Glaring at him, her anger and determination helped her to struggle upright and throw her legs over the edge of the bed. Gasping as if she’d run a mile, she pushed herself up on shaking legs. Ja-rael grasped her shoulders, steadying her.
“Are you going to help me?”
“No.”
Elise glared at him and sat back down weakly. “If you bring me a bed pan, I’m going to clobber you with it,” she threatened.
They stared at each other angrily for several moments. “Alright,” Ja-rael conceded finally. “I’ll help you, but if you feel like you’re going to faint, sit down on the floor and call me. Is that clear?”
Jaraels Lioness Page 11