Shalia's Diary Book 12

by Tracy St. John

  “No. Better set us down before we crash. Let me help.”

  Letting the harness keep Anrel in place, Gilsa’s hands flew over the panel in symphony with mine as we coaxed the screeching, coughing vessel down to a wide path. The trail accommodated large hover carts, which were used to transport timber from the area to the local shuttle port. I’d been following it since I knew it would take us straight into town.

  Our landing wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t gentle. We jerked in our seats, which Anrel fortunately found hilarious. But we set it down on the trail without causing more damage than Nang had already done.

  Gilsa and I glanced at each other. We were sitting ducks if my stalker had decided to chase after us rather than go into hiding again. Considering the son of a bitch had made the effort he had, I was pretty certain I knew the answer to that one. Gilsa’s expression said she’d arrived at that same conclusion.

  We tried to com our clans and my bodyguards. No reception. We left messages for when the signal strengthened where it would transmit. Then Gilsa released her harness, handing Anrel off to me and grabbing the pulse rifle. “We’re closer to the house. We’ll run for there through the woods, where we’ll be harder to trace.”

  I followed her outside. We both searched the skies right away. We saw the glint of sunlight off something metallic in the sky, too distant for us to make out a shape. I didn’t need to see it, though.

  “It’s him.” I had no doubt on that score. “And he’s flying this way.”

  “Into the woods. Quick.” Gilsa started for the line of trees on our left.

  “No. Take Anrel.”

  Gilsa twisted around, her eyes wide. “Shalia—”

  “There’s no time to argue. Take her and get home. I’ll keep Nang busy.” I kissed Anrel and thrust her towards Gilsa.

  My mother-in-law hesitated a bare instant before grabbing my daughter. “At least take the rifle.”

  “No.” I checked the bright spot in the sky. It had grown in the last two seconds. He was coming fast. “If I’m armed, he’ll go for the weaker target. Hurry, Gilsa. He’ll be here in less than half a minute.”

  Gilsa glanced at the coming shuttle, rage suffusing her features before she snapped a nod. “We’ll find you, Shalia. Hold on, because we’ll be coming.”

  “I know. Run.”

  I could see the hint of the pointed prow of the shuttle now. It was taking shape, and I didn’t want Nang to spot the direction Gilsa went in.

  She sped off into the dense shadow of the trees, a dark blur. Anrel’s giggles trailed behind them, dwindling in the still air. There was a sound of snapping twigs, crackling underbrush, then that was gone too. I was left alone to face Nang.

  Anrel was safe. Gilsa too. I had a tracker embedded somewhere on my body. Seot would find me no matter what. I took heart from that. I dashed into the shuttle for a moment before coming back out.

  I had trained for the moment when I would confront Nang. I’d dealt with plenty of trouble and won before. Maybe I could win again. I was about to find out.

  I stepped to the rear of Clan Denkar’s shuttle and kept moving. I felt like a gunslinger, striding into the dusty street outside the saloon, readying to draw against the bad guy. High noon had arrived. I took position in the middle of the lane, where Nang couldn’t help but spy me waiting for him.

  I’m not sure if I was being overly dramatic or not. After all, I wasn’t about to shoot or be shot, as far as I knew. I didn’t have a blaster or rifle. Hell, I didn’t have a knife on me. It was going to be hand-to-hand if I had to defend myself.

  I attempted to ease my fears by reminding myself that Nang didn’t wish me dead. He wanted me alive. I didn’t want to kill him either. He was sick. He needed help.

  A part of me said, thinking that will end with you killed. Darn if it didn’t sound a lot like Dramok Resan, that incredible pain in my ass. But he was right. I’d known a woman whose lover had turned obsessed. In the end, he’d been ready to kill her and her kids.

  If you have to fight, don’t half-ass it. That was Oses. You may not get another chance to defend yourself.

  Resan again. Take out the enemy, or save him and yourself a lot of trouble and take yourself out.

  “All or nothing,” I muttered under my breath as the shuttle slowed. It landed a few feet in front of me.

  I breathed deep of the muggy air, trying to calm myself as much as I could. When panic tried to rise, I’d chant in my head, Anrel is safe. Anrel is safe. Anrel is safe.

  It was all that mattered. It was what held me in place when Nang stepped out of the shuttle to confront me.

  Ancestors, he looked big. Memories of how he used to overwhelm me, both physically and mentally, tried to invade my skull. I chased such thoughts off with the image of him walking away from me with Anrel in his arms. No. He would not do that, no matter what.

  He smiled at me and glanced at Clan Denkar’s crippled shuttle. “I’m sorry if you had a bumpy landing. I couldn’t take a chance on you leaving me. Where is our daughter?”

  “My daughter, Clan Seot’s daughter, is not here. You have no claim on her or me. I am Matara Shalia of Clan Seot, and you are not welcome in our lives.”

  His smile stuttered and fell. Growling, Nang went to the downed shuttle. He didn’t go in, where he couldn’t keep an eye on me. If I’d made a break for his craft, attempting to take it and fly out, I wouldn’t be fast enough. Not against a Kalquorian. My options were few. Either I would talk Nang out of pursuing his delusion of making us a family, or I’d delay him long enough for help to arrive.

  I was clear which way the wind was going to blow on that. As Nang turned towards me, I shifted, blading my body as I’d been taught, to present less of a target.

  “The woman took her.”

  “Where she’ll be safe from you.”

  “She doesn’t need to be kept safe from me. I’m her father.”

  “You’re nothing to her. Her fathers are Seot, Cifa, and Larten. Her fathers—and the fathers of the child I carry.” I enunciated my next words, trying to force him to understand. “I love them. I do not love you. I never did.”

  Nang stood there for endless seconds, staring at me. At last, the slight breeze brought me his strengthless whisper. “You lie. About the baby. About how you feel.”

  “The only lies are the ones you’ve been telling yourself. You came here for nothing.”

  His expression twisted, so wretched I could almost have cried for him. For an instant, my heart broke for Nang. I have never seen any living being look so desolate. I hope I never see it again.

  The bald misery was gone as quickly as it had come. Then there was rage, the fury of a man who’d been cheated of everything he’d ever had and was bent on revenge.

  He roared, an animal sound that must have shook the trees. He came at me, face bestial, reaching as if he’d choke me lifeless.

  Oses had prepared me for this, when the Kalquorian quickness that blurs a man’s shape would make it difficult for me to react. We’d practiced from any number of distances so I’d be ready. Nang had started from close by, meaning he’d get to me quick. The instant his body streaked and elongated, I hefted the thick metal bar I’d hidden from Nang behind my leg, wrapped both hands around it like a baseball bat, and swung it at a point just higher than the top of my head. Nang arrived at the precise second to catch the blow full speed.

  I’d misjudged, however. Instead of clocking against the side of his skull as I’d hoped, I hit the area beneath his ear. It was more a neck than a head blow. It wasn’t sufficient to knock him off his feet.

  It stunned him, though. He staggered to the side, his legs bowing, as if he’d fall down after all. Fighting the instinct that made me want to hesitate and check on how hurt he was, the horror that I’d tried to cave a former lover’s skull in, I readied and swung again, trying to capitalize on my advantage.

  Nang blocked it. He grabbed the bar and twisted it from my grasp. It was another scenario I’d trained for. I let
the bar go and lunged. I put my shoulder in his stomach. His breath whooshed as he bent double.

  I pivoted and stepped off to the side. I clenched my hands into a single fist and slammed my forearms across the back of his neck. Nang finally went down on a knee, on the side opposite me. Had it been the other, he’d have been open to a kick to the gut. Maybe things would have turned out better for me.

  Or maybe not. People who are not in possession of all their faculties often either don’t feel an attack, or they shake it off quicker than the typical person. Such was the case with Nang. I’d surprised him and perhaps hurt him. It wasn’t enough. Not even close.

  When he stood again, bellowing with rage, I knew I’d done all the damage I could. I needed to get the hell out of Dodge and find a decent weapon. I took off, racing for the woods on the opposite side of the lane than where Gilsa had run off with Anrel. I crashed past the tree line an instant before Nang grabbed me.

  Furious beyond reason, he flung me. I sailed a few feet before smashing into the striped trunk of a tree. It should have hurt like hell, but I was too pumped up with adrenaline to notice pain at that point. Taking my cue from Nang, I’d left normalcy behind. It was all about the battle and finding a way to win.

  I’d barely hit the ground when I bolted to my feet and sprinted. I didn’t bother to check on my pursuer. As I ran, I searched the ground for a rock, a tree limb, a thamom—anything to fight with. A surge of energy spiked as I spied a thick branch only a foot distant. I swooped on it and came up swinging, knowing Nang had to be right behind me.

  He was there, all right, coming hard and fast. I hit him against the skull. An on-target bullseye, the lucky shot I’d desperately hoped for. The thunk was loud and perfect.

  But …

  Nang didn’t feel it. He had the adrenaline. He had the angry. He had the crazy. Then he had me.

  I didn’t have a second to defend myself. I wasn’t even allowed to think oh shit as his fist shot at me. There was a flash of his livid face, the faster flash of huge knuckles, and more than a flash of hideous pain bolting through my skull. Then there was nothing.

  I don’t know how long I was unconscious. Not too long, considering where we ended up. But when awareness intruded, accompanied by a vicious headache that kept my eyes closed, I had no idea if I’d been out a minute or a whole day.

  The soft, steady hum of a shuttle engine told me I was going somewhere. I was hideously aware of what had preceded me waking up and flying to parts unknown. I never had hope that while I was taking my impromptu nap, my clan had shown up, beaten the snot out of Nang, and were heroically transporting me to a hospital where I’d find the blessing of pain inhibitor. I’m Shalia Monroe of Clan Seot, and Lady Luck pisses on me on a regular basis. I’m not on speaking terms with that bitch.

  I knew without opening my eyes that I was on Nang’s shuttle. That he was taking me ancestors knew where. I had to figure out how to get away from him…or at the very least, survive until my implanted locator led my clan or the authorities to me. I knew they’d turn the entire Empire upside down to find me, but out here in no-signal land, it might take some doing. I had no idea how much time was left until super bad shit went down. I wanted to be alive when the troops showed up, not a corpse that they stumbled over.

  That was my first concern: survival. Nang could kill me in a fit of rage. After how he’d charged at me, leading me to fight back, I was pretty sure that wasn’t a farfetched idea.

  As I continued to play Sleeping Beauty, not wanting Nang to realize I was awake and figuring out what the fuck to do, I became aware that he was muttering. Maybe he’d been doing it all along, but was only now loud enough for me to hear him over the engine. Because his voice was rising. Soon, I didn’t have to strain.

  “But you can love me. I can make you understand what I’ve given up for you. How much I’m still willing to give up for you. We can be happy. I’ll dedicate myself to you, show you you’re the center of my world, that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. And we’ll be together forever, you and me, and no one else will ever get in the way of that.”

  He argued his case with me supposedly in absentia, repeating the same idea over and over. It would have been sad, worthy of sympathy, if he hadn’t tried to cave my skull in with his fist. It got scarier, with his voice rising, higher-pitched, kind of weepy. As if he was trying to convince himself I would fall in love after all and failing miserably.

  I didn’t want to know what would happen if he decided there was no hope, and therefore, no reason to live. I had the horrific vision of him crashing the shuttle into the ground, killing us both.

  At least he didn’t have Anrel. Had he given up all hope of taking her too? It didn’t matter. Without my daughter to worry with, I could fight Nang with every resource I had. It was just him and me.

  I had to do something about the situation, before he lost all hope and decided on a course of action that neither of us would wake up from. I knew from the direction of his voice that I faced him, lying on the floor, if the nubby fabric under my cheek was any indication. Hoping I was in the cabin behind the pilot’s seat, and that he was more intent on looking at the controls than me, I flexed my foot experimentally. Damn it, there was something circling my ankles. Now that I was regaining my faculties, I noticed pressure around my wrists as well. The binds were the right width to be hover cuffs. If that was the case, I wouldn’t be working free.

  I carefully slit my eyes open to look at my hands, which were curled in front of me at my waist. It wasn’t the flexible metal of hover cuffs holding my wrists together, but yellow leather pilchok collars. I guess Gilsa didn’t notice them missing. But then, none of the flock she was raising was ready to sell yet. The yellow collars told buyers the birds were raised on only the highest-grade feed and allowed to range free. Well, I certainly wasn’t free-range myself. Even the queen of re-use Gilsa hadn’t thought of using them for the purpose Nang had put them to.

  It was better than being held by hover cuffs, but I still had to break free. If I started fussing and straining with my binds, Nang would put a stop to it before I could escape.

  As I contemplated my next move, Nang stopped his one-sided argument with me. The sound of the engines changed as we slowed, and the shift in gravity beneath me told me the shuttle was landing. The question was, where?

  I wouldn’t meekly go along with whatever Nang had in mind, that was for damned sure. As he set the craft down, I stopped playing possum. I rolled up so that I was sitting up on the floor. At that moment, Nang glanced at me over his shoulder. There was relief on his expression—which told me he’d worried about how hard he’d hit me. That was helpful, I hoped. He regretted having hurt me. Maybe it would keep him from any more violent reactions.

  I couldn’t count on that, though. I didn’t trust Nang’s state of mind for an instant. Not after all he’d done to kidnap me.

  It was a small shuttle, a little larger than my personal craft on Kalquor. I scooted to the rear wall of the cabin, shifting as far from Nang as possible. Then I started struggling with the straps binding me.

  My feet—no big deal. It was easy to reach down and unhook the clasps. I ignored Nang calling, “Don’t do that. Shalia, I mean it.”

  “Fuck you,” I muttered under my breath. It had to be said whether I let him hear it or not. I kicked away the yellow collars, hooked together as the ones on my wrists were.

  The shuttle bumped to a rough rest on the surface of wherever we were. Using my teeth, I raced to free myself as Nang switched off the shuttle with a curse and bolted out of the pilot’s seat.

  “What are you going to do? Punch me again? It’s a lot easier, isn’t it, with me being unable to defend myself.” I sneered at him, wondering why I was baiting the asshole. But rage felt better than fear. Fear might freeze me.

  He didn’t abuse me. Instead, Nang knelt and covered my wrists. “I didn’t want to hit you, Shalia. You gave me no choice!”

  “The favorite excuse of the abus
er. ‘It’s your fault I hurt you.’ Bullshit, Nang. You must outweigh me by a hundred and fifty pounds. This is all on you.”

  Anxiety and confusion twisted his features. He was pathetic. But I refused to feel sorry for him. The man held my life in his hands, and there was no doubt in my mind I was in danger. If I could convince him to stop and think beyond the madness that had gripped him, maybe he’d acknowledge the fact he had a problem.

  “Shalia, you’re the only person who matters to me. The only thing that’s kept me going these last few months is being with you again.” His smile was tremulous. “With you, I’m the man I should be. Remember how I tracked down your mother when those extremists kidnapped her? How I helped to rescue her? Don’t you remember that, Shalia?”

  Ancestors help me. He was asking me to recognize a crime that he was repeating. Kidnapping and torturing.