Lunar Heat: 1 (The Heat Series)

by Susan Kearney

  “So why did he pick you?”

  “Because many space attendants would have been happy to flirt and party and sleep with a wealthy, handsome, single man.”

  “Are you saying he picked you because you weren’t interested?”

  “Yes. I was about to be married. I was happy. Jamar got off on my resistance. He doesn’t just enjoy creating physical pain. He sucks up mental pain. Embarrassment and humiliation are his way of warming up for what comes later.”

  “Donna, did Jamar use any unusual devices?”

  “He likes to use his belt. Whips. Chains. A scalpel. Or a razor. He made me scar my own cheeks with a razor.”

  Trevor shuddered. “Actually, I meant did you see any kind of a device that would account for his ability to use mind control?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “What about any unusual habits?”

  “You mean besides brutality and cruelty?”

  “I want to find him. I’m not asking you these questions because—”

  “You have a job to do. The man seemed normal—right down to his penchant for margaritas—without the salt on the rim.”

  “I promise you. If I find him, I’m turning him over to the authorities.”

  “If you find him, you’ll have to kill him,” she warned. “A man like Jamar won’t be taken alive.”

  48

  Hands cuffed behind her back, Shara inched closer to Cade. With the noise of the helicopter and their captors in the front seats, they could talk freely without fear of their captors overhearing the conversation.

  “Why aren’t you doing something?” she asked Cade, not bothering to keep the fear and frustration from her voice. After crashing in the desert, hoping for rescue, only to be taken by their enemy, her roller-coaster emotions were close to the surface.

  From the seat beside her, Cade raised an eyebrow. “Exactly what would you like me to do?”

  With her cuffed hands she extracted salt from her pocket and held it up to him. He leaned over and licked it from her fingers. She kept her voice low. “Why not use your Quait and force them to release us and set us down next to a four-star hotel?” Then she could empty her bladder, eat a hot meal, take a shower, and sleep in a bed with comfy thousand-thread-count sheets.

  Cade shook his head. “Even if I was a First, Quait doesn’t work that way. Whoever dominates a mind usually maintains control until the First releases them.”

  “Usually? There are exceptions?”

  “If a First is distracted or ill or injured, there can be momentary lapses—the lapses only last mere seconds and are difficult to pinpoint, never mind take advantage of.”

  Disappointed, Shara wasn’t about to give up. “What about going for the handcuff keys?”

  Although the guard had moved to the copilot’s seat, the keys still bulged temptingly in his pocket. A quick snatch, a lucky kick to the head, and they could free themselves and force the pilot to land.

  “Even if I could take out the guard before he shot me, the pilot has a weapon, too. And we can’t hurt him. We need him to fly and land this helicopter.”

  “There must be something we can do.” Shara braced her back against a seat and wearily closed her eyes, trying not to think about a bathroom, food, a hot shower, safety.

  “It’s not all bad.”

  “Seriously?” She opened her eyes to take in Cade’s handsome face. With his ragged hair, two-day stubble, and his torn clothes, he looked like a rogue. There was no trace of defeat in his posture. Head high, eyes alert, he maintained an air of poised calm that helped her fight her rising panic.

  “Now is not the time to escape,” he told her with maddening logic. “They are taking us exactly where we need to go. Jamar has the portal piece.”

  “Jamar intends to kill us.”

  “Our capture may be the opportunity we needed. The First thinks we’re helpless.”

  “We are.”

  Cade’s voice deepened. “The salt you found on Mars is stronger than Earth salt—more potent. Jamar can’t know how much the salt has changed me. I don’t even know how much it’s changed me.”

  The pain in his eyes reminded her that he saw Quait as a necessary evil. She supposed now was as good a time as ever to set him straight—because even if he succeeded he’d be stuck here a long time—perhaps forever. Besides, she ached to soothe him. “Your core personality and characteristics haven’t altered.”

  His eyes burned. “So that’s why you told me we shouldn’t make love?” he snorted. “Because I haven’t changed?”

  “What you do is different. And different can be scary.”

  “That’s my point—I didn’t used to be scary.”

  “But I’m learning better.” She tossed her hair from her eyes. “On our worlds my people have endlessly debated whether weapons are good or evil. But a gun is a hunk of metal, an object that has no soul, no morals, no inherent will until someone chooses whether or not to use it to defend themselves or commit a brutal murder. Both are killing.”

  Cade’s eyes flared. “Quait is not like an object one can decide to ignore. With Quait I have no choice. Can you eat food without tasting it?”

  “Of course not. But I can decide which foods I taste and how much I put in my mouth and when I eat. And so far I haven’t once seen you use Quait for evil or wrongdoing. Seems to me you do have freedom of will—”

  “Wrong.” He shuddered as if in agony but held her gaze. “You know better.”

  She had no clue. “What are you talking about?”

  “When we made love. I forced you to do things.”

  She shook her head and locked gazes with him, hoping her eyes flashed annoyance. “I was willing.”

  “I forced my will on you.”

  “You gave me a safe word.”

  He flinched when she said that. As if drawing the admission deep from a hellish soul, he admitted, “I’m not certain if I could have stopped.”

  “You didn’t do one thing I didn’t want you to do. You didn’t do anything I didn’t enjoy. When I asked you to let me be on top, you did. If I’d asked you to stop, you would have done so.”

  He looked away. “I’m glad you think so.”

  Clearly he didn’t believe he had that much control, but she knew better, and, although her heart ached for him, she’d had enough of his damn stubbornness. He’d risked his life to save her. He’d shown her repeatedly that he was a caring man with a good heart, and that he could think he wasn’t pained her. “You hate all Firsts and their abilities so much that you can’t appreciate your new talent.”

  “You see in me what you wish to see,” he countered.

  “Damn it. I see what is there. Without your help I wouldn’t have survived the desert.”

  “Without me, you wouldn’t have been in the desert.”

  “Oh, puh-leeze. Your pity party is really getting old. Have you tortured or raped or killed anyone? You’re willing to give up your ride home to protect Earth. Your actions say more about you than your words. So we had a little kinky sex—get over it. Focus on all you have accomplished. Did you ever in your life think you might have a shot to fight Jamar on an equal footing?”

  “Don’t kid yourself. No way do I have his strength—even here in your solar system. And of course I comprehend the opportunity I’ve been given.”

  “I don’t think you do. Not down deep. You haven’t accepted how you are now is the same man you were before. You think Quait will change your principles. It hasn’t.”

  “I took—”

  “You say the Firsts don’t do any work, but you do. You say the Firsts are cruel—yet you are not. Don’t you see that your character hasn’t changed?”

  “Everyone with Quait uses their power to gain more.”

  “You don’t.”

  “Really? I’m hoping my people can retake a world. That’s the ultimate power grab.”

  “It’s a grab for freedom—and something you chose before your Quait. You haven’t changed. Quait is the tool
that will allow you to stand up and fight for those principles. Hell, you might even win. You don’t really know how weak Jamar has become.”

  She could see doubts in the shadows of his eyes and knew she hadn’t gotten through to him. And yet, perhaps he’d start thinking in the right direction. Never before had she wanted to shake some sense into him.

  She wanted him to focus solely on finding the portal pieces—so she could destroy them—not question the morality of using Quait. Too bad she didn’t know how she could accomplish her goal without Cade. Stealing the pieces herself wasn’t a viable option—not when a locator beacon would lead the men right to her. She had to think of something. And although frustration swelled in her chest, she’d never felt more alive, more challenged.

  For a long time after Bruce had died, she’d wished she’d died right beside him. But while the pain of losing him would always hurt, the open wounds had healed, leaving scars she’d learned to live with. She’d once again begun to think of a future, dared to dream of one with Cade. But there was no way she could have a life with him—not if she betrayed him. If she succeeded, he would never forgive her, and if she failed they all might die. Never had she faced such terrible choices, and it tore at her.

  If only she could think of a way out of this predicament. She might be in handcuffs, the chopper might be taking them to Jamar, but Shara had struggled against bad odds before. She’d worked hard to make it as an actress. She’d fought the booze even harder. Now she would fight for life—with Cade or without him. She wanted to live.

  “Cade?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re going to find those portal pieces. I don’t know how, but we aren’t giving up.”

  “Agreed.” Approval shined from his eyes, warming her straight down to her bones.

  The chopper veered, the altitude descending, and she supposed she shouldn’t be thinking about the future right now. But any thoughts that took her away from the ache in her wrists, the numbness in her hands, or the uncertainty of living even another few hours bolstered her courage.

  They were about to land in the middle of the Martian desert.

  “Oh, my God.” Shara stared out the chopper’s window at a shimmering rock that looked as if it were alive. Reddish, gray, and brownish light reflected off the huge object and distorted its shape, making it impossible to discern its true silhouette. Fear tightened her throat and iced to her gut. “What the hell is that?”

  49

  Jamar’s link went off. Although his bloody playthings were at quite an amusing stage of their punishment, he dared not ignore the summons from Rama. He opened the link with impatience. “Yes.”

  “Status report,” his superior demanded.

  “The first portal piece is in my possession, and I’ve located the second one on Earth’s moon.”

  “What’s taking so long?”

  “The situation here is primitive. Besides, you’ve slowed me down by ordering me to keep Cade alive. Why the hell do we want to bring that traitor home?”

  “The assembly insists we measure his Quait.”

  “That’s foolish. His Quait can only be meager and means nothing to us. But if word of his abilities gets out, it will encourage others to rebel.”

  “The decision is not yours to make,” his superior snapped. “Do you have Cade?”

  “I believe he’s about to be brought aboard my ship,” Jamar sneered.

  “You believe? You don’t know? Where in fargon hell are you if you aren’t aboard your ship?”

  “You have no idea how hard this mission has been. I had to hide my ship, take local transportation, dig the portal piece out of the muck—with my own hands.”

  “Don’t let him on that ship until you are aboard to see that he’s restrained properly.”

  Although highly irritated, Jamar didn’t argue. “Fine. I’ll delay his arrival until I get there.”

  “If you fail, and the revolt succeeds, we’ll all be doing slave labor.”

  “He’s an underfirst. Your concern is an over-estimation of his limited ability.”

  “If you are wrong—”

  “I’m not. But I’ll work better after I recover from my sunburn and blisters and—”

  A woman in Jamar’s hotel suite moaned in pain.

  “What was that?” his superior asked.

  Jamar would make her pay for that mistake. Her death would be painful, agonizing. “A Martian bitch. She’s of no account—”

  “Exactly. She’s of no account, so why are you with her?” his superior roared. “You’re taking care of your own needs instead of focusing on the mission.”

  “I needed a healing massage,” Jamar lied.

  “Jamar,” his superior lowered his voice to a terrifying hiss. “Focus on your task. Destroy the portal pieces—all of them. And bring Cade back to Rama—alive.”

  50

  Cade followed the direction of Shara’s gaze, and a muscle flinched in his jaw. “It’s Jamar’s camouflaged spaceship.” As their captors circled the spaceship below, waiting for Jamar’s permission to land, the men pulled out sandwiches and a thermos with coffee. The smell of the food made his stomach rumble.

  He leaned closer to her seat and placed his lips close to her ear. “See if you can get them to feed us.”

  “Come on, guys. How about a few bites?” Shara asked with a celebrity grin.

  One of the men tossed a paper-covered sandwich into Shara’s lap.

  Cade turned sideways in his seat, lifted the prize behind him, and unwrapped it. He held up the bread and meat as best he could for Shara. “Go on. Eat.”

  She had to shift her knees to the floor in order for her mouth to reach the sandwich. “Thanks.”

  Shara ate half the sandwich quickly, then regained her seat and took the other half from his hands. “Your turn.”

  Cade didn’t know how much salt Shara had left in her pockets, or when he’d have the opportunity to ingest more. But the meat had salt on it, and every micro gram would help.

  Jamar was the big unknown factor here. Ever since Cade had arrived, Jamar had been trying to kill him. So why had the First let them live? What had changed? Was it possible that after all the trouble Cade had caused, the First wanted to personally oversee their torture and death?

  At the idea of Jamar hurting Shara, Cade’s pulse raced, and his stomach soured. His every protective feeling for her rose up to shake him. He hadn’t intended to allow his feelings to grow so strong. This was the exact reason that back on Rama he’d never stayed with one woman long enough to know her. But Shara was Shara—irresistible, intelligent, compassionate.

  Cade ate quickly, then placed his mouth close to Shara’s ear, making certain the pilots couldn’t hear him above the loud music playing from the cockpit. “Jamar must not guess that we mean anything to each other, or he’ll use it against us.”

  Shara turned, favoring him with a tiny smile. “So you do have feelings for me.”

  Cade picked up that Shara’s thoughts had become serious, but he didn’t understand why. “After all the time we’ve spent together, how could I not have feelings for you?”

  “Ah . . . Cade. For a smart man, you can be as dense as any man born on Earth.”

  At her clear annoyance with him, Cade wished he had a hint of what she was talking about. “You do know that I can’t read your mind?”

  “Trust me. Right now that’s a good thing—for you.”

  Frustrated he didn’t understand her at all, he tried to keep his tone even. “I have no idea why you’re irritated with me.”

  “That’s why I’m irritated.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t making sense. And we don’t have time for a personal discussion.”

  “Agreed.” She immediately turned reasonable, and yet he sensed something significant had happened. In some way he’d come up short, and it bothered him that he didn’t know why. Her failure to explain also rankled.

  He lowered his voice even further. “Once we arrive at his
ship, he’s going to head for the second portal piece on the Moon. He’ll be too busy flying to bother with us. After we arrive in lunar orbit, that will be our best time to get free.”

  If they lived that long.

  “What do you have in mind?” Her tone remained cool, almost professional.

  “If we have guards, when I cough twice, I want you to distract them if you can.”

  She raised her head and shot him a queenly stare. Despite her hands behind her back, she straightened her shoulders, then slightly angled her chin. “It would be better if my hands were free, but I can still act.”

  “Good. And don’t forget, we mean nothing to one another.”

  She raised a brow, and her mouth quirked in a tiny grin. “Don’t worry, that I will never forget.”

  He sat back, glad Shara seemed almost normal. And wondered why they were still circling. Jamar could be sleeping and have given orders he wasn’t to be disturbed. Or he could be preparing to make their arrival . . . unpleasant.

  “So what’s the plan?” Shara asked.

  “Huh?” He pulled his focus from a huge crater with an odd shaped rim to Shara. “I explained everything to you.”

  “You explained nothing,” she hissed.

  “We wait until we reach the moon’s orbit. I cough twice. You distract them. I take them out. It’s simple.”

  “It’s moronic.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Did you just insult me?”

  “You don’t know how to plan. What you’re suggesting is muddled chaos,” she sputtered, clearly outraged that he hadn’t given her more details. She looked so cute, all hissing claws and high color in her cheekbones, but even he knew better than to say so.

  He chuckled, enjoying her outrage, enough to push her further. “So you have a better idea?”

  “How can I have an idea when I haven’t ever been in Jamar’s ship?”

  “Exactly.”

  The pilot suddenly spoke into his communicator. Cade spotted another chopper banking in hard from over the crater’s rim.