Shielder — A new Science Fiction Romance (Book 1, Shielder Series)

by Catherine Spangler

  "Someone you know?" Chase asked bitingly from behind her.

  She turned slowly, still stunned, to face him. He sat against the opposite wall, his arms resting on his upraised knees. She didn't answer, but he must have seen the truth in her face.

  "Obviously, this one didn't fall for your lies. After all, you still had your virginity when you plied your wiles on me."

  She pushed back the pain his jab generated. She had to think, to concentrate. There must be some way she could help Jarek. Chase would certainly never offer assistance, even if she could trust him.

  "By the fires! You look awful," he snapped. "Go back to your corner, before you fall down."

  She couldn't do that. She had to think of a way to help Jarek first. But the heat burning her body threatened to disintegrate her. Eying the water container longingly, she staggered toward it. Those few steps sapped her remaining energy.

  She sank down by the trough and rested her face on the edge, willing the strength to drink. Not even the putrid odor rising from the scum floating on the water bothered her.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" Chase snarled from behind her.

  He slid one arm across her midriff and helped her sit up. Cupping the other hand, he dipped it into the water and lifted it to her parched lips. She slurped it, as weak as a baby lanrax. He repeated the offering several times, until she sank back against him with a sigh.

  "You're burning with fever." He lowered her to the stone floor.

  Tepid water splashed against her face and chest. She lay there, too exhausted to move, while he sloshed more water from the container onto her. Why was he helping her?

  He ripped open the front of her tunic, exposing her burning skin to the dank air. Startled, she opened her eyes and stared at his granite face. His eyes blazed with a barely restrained fury. Unable to confront the condemnation she saw there, she closed her eyes again.

  More water dribbled across her chest and down her rib cage. She could feel the steamy heat rising from her body, smell the musty odor of disease. Several more handfuls of water drenched her thoroughly before Chase closed her tunic.

  She curled to her side, drifting in and out of awareness, her thoughts shifting from Chase to Jarek. She just needed to rest, to reserve her strength, she told herself. If she managed to get released, then she could take action to help Jarek.

  A sudden spasm of chills jolted her from her daze. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering uncontrollably. Her eyes flew open when Chase's arms slid around her. He hauled her against him, pressing her face against his chest and throwing one leg over both of hers to keep her still.

  His heat seeped through her damp tunic, counteracting the coldness racking her. Even through her grogginess, she understood he did it only to head off the danger from a chill contracted after a high fever. His next embittered words verified that fact.

  "I don't even know why I'm doing this. You will pay for your lies and treachery, Nessa. I promise you that."

  She was already paying, with a higher price than he could begin to imagine.

  * * * *

  She must have slept eventually. The scream woke her, intruding into the welcome oblivion. She jolted awake, bewildered.

  "No!" the tormented voice cried. "Not Chandra! She can't be dead." A groan echoed through the chamber, then, "No! Not another one. Spirit, you have to help me. Help me save them… no!"

  Chase. Finally recognizing the voice, Nessa struggled to sit up. Clarity returned, and she remembered where she was. Chase lay nearby, thrashing, the agonized cries tearing from him. Her heart pounding, she crawled to him. He twisted into her, knocking her sideways.

  "Chase! What is it?" Panicky, she struggled up and edged back to his side. She stared at his contorted face. His eyes were closed. "Chase?"

  "Somebody…please! I need help. Isn't there anyone who can help?" he moaned brokenly. "I can't…can't do it."

  He cried out again, his voice fraught with grief and despair. Nessa realized he must be in the throes of a nightmare. His torment knifed through her, and she wrapped her arms around his struggling body.

  "Chase. You're okay. It's just a dream." Using all her limited strength, she held onto his heaving body. She continued talking, soothing him, like she had with Raven and Brand, until he finally stilled with a shuddering breath.

  She sank back, barely maintaining her hold on him. Trembling, he sagged against her, resting his head on her breast. Shaking as well, she stroked his hair, damp with sweat. She reveled in the feel of him. One last chance to touch him, to trace the strength of his face.

  Suddenly he stiffened, full awareness returning. He lifted his head, his eyes narrowing. "Get away from me." He pushed to his feet and moved to the opposite end of the cell.

  An arrow of pain pierced her soul. Wishing she could go back in time and do something—anything—to have prevented this situation, she whispered, "You don't know how sorry I am."

  "Save it for another fool." Leaning against the wall, he dropped his face into his hands. "I haven't had that nightmare in two seasons—" He looked up and impaled her with a look of pure loathing. "Damn you, Nessa. Damn you to the corners of the galaxy."

  His curse was unnecessary. She was already damned.

  And the man she loved would never forgive her.

  She gathered enough strength to crawl to the opposite corner, where mental and physical exhaustion finally claimed her. Some time later, a boot prodded her awake.

  “Up, citizen. The Commander is on his way."

  Disoriented, she gaped at the Antek looming over her. He prodded her again. "Up." Then he lumbered toward Chase, but Chase had already awakened and risen to his feet.

  She pulled herself upright along the wall, praying her stiff, weak legs would support her. The room tilted alarmingly. Closing her eyes, she tried to draw a deep breath into her lungs, instead receiving jabs of pain.

  Two more guards preceded the base commander into the cell, flanking the entry. Behind the commander, Sabin sauntered in. Until this moment, Nessa had never dreamed she'd be glad to see him.

  "I understand you're Chase McKnight," the commander said to Chase.

  "I told you that yesterday," Chase grated out.

  The commander seemed unconcerned. "Ah, well, one can't be too careful, now, can they? But your partner here contacted Commander Domek, who identified you from a visual. Then we ran your disk through the main computer at Alta, and you came up clean. Apparently your records were altered on Odera."

  Chase shot Nessa a damning glare. "I assumed as much."

  This news staggered her. Someone had planted condemning computer records on Chase, and he obviously blamed her. No wonder he displayed such hostility. No sense trying to tell him she hadn't altered those records. He'd never believe anything she said now.

  He turned toward the entry. "Come on, let's get out of here."

  Nessa started to follow, but the commander flung out his arm, blocking her. "She's not leaving. Her identification is false. I can't release a possible criminal."

  Chase turned back and looked her over, cold and calculating. "This one's mine. She's a wanted felon all right. I've been hunting her, and I claim bounty rights. I'll take her to collect the reward. But first, I have some personal business to settle with her."

  At least he didn't plan on leaving her behind. Relief swept through her, even though his expression told her quite clearly his business with her would be very unpleasant. At least she could try to help Jarek now.

  The commander eyed her, taking note of the slime covering her bare legs and arms, her torn tunic. "If you're sure," he grunted, disgust evident in his tone. "Aren't you going to shackle her?"

  Chase stared pointedly at the commander. "It seems my utility belt was confiscated yesterday. Travers, would you do the honors?"

  Sabin raised his brows, but stepped forward, unhooking from his belt the electronic shackles every shadower carried. Nessa stiffened, but didn't resist when he snapped them onto her wrists. She n
oted he didn't tighten them much or activate the shock mechanism.

  "Should I do her legs, McKnight?" he asked.

  Chase's steely gaze speared through her. "That's not necessary. There's nowhere she can run."

  With a grunt, the commander turned and strode through the entry. The guards, then Chase and Sabin, followed him. Nessa limped behind the group, trying to catch up with Sabin, who trailed the others. Extending her bound arms, she managed to grasp his flightsuit. He glanced over his shoulder at her, his expression none too pleasant.

  "Keep your filthy hands off me," he hissed.

  "I have to talk to you." She kept her voice low, so Chase wouldn't hear.

  "I don't want to talk to you. You look like the walking dead, and you smell even worse."

  "Please. This is urgent."

  Exhaling loudly, he slowed, letting Chase and the guards get farther ahead of them. "Come to think of it, I do want to talk to you. What were you thinking when you hijacked Chase's ship? And why did you dump those children and two ill-tempered animals on me? Just what is going on?"

  He took a step toward her. Remembering the Orana, she backed up hastily. "Are the children okay?"

  "They're just fine. What did you think? That I'd leave them there at the CTC? I didn't, but I should have. All they've done is mope and cry for you and Chase. Spirit preserve me!" He stepped forward again, and Nessa moved back. His eyes narrowed and he raised a hand toward her.

  "Don't touch me."

  He dropped his hand, glaring at her. "What is the matter with you?"

  "I saw my brother entering this center as a prisoner."

  For a moment, she thought she saw a look of compassion cross his face. "I'm sorry." Then his usual mask of nonchalance returned. "Why are you telling me this?"

  Her legs trembled, reminding her they wouldn't hold up much longer. She was terrified she might sign Jarek's death warrant if she told Sabin too much, yet filled with dread that Jarek's fate might already be sealed. But she would have to trust this renegade Shielder. She had no one else to turn to.

  "He's an able and skilled squadron commander. He's also next in line as Council head in our colony."

  Sabin's expression sharpened. "What colony?"

  Nessa hesitated. She had to risk Jarek's life in order to help him. She didn't have to place an entire Shielder colony in jeopardy. "I can't tell you that."

  He muttered a curse, then grated, "And your brother's name?"

  "Jarek."

  Sabin considered a moment. "Chase gave your last name as Ranul. I would assume your real name is Nessa dan Ranul. Am I correct?"

  Again she hesitated. If Sabin knew her real name, then he'd know Jarek's. Jarek had always been secretive about his forays against the Controllers. For all she knew, her brother had a price on his head. But if he did, he was as good as dead anyway. Not only that, once he arrived at Alta, they'd perform the standard blood test, and ascertain he was a Shielder.

  She nodded. "Yes. That's my name." Her strength gave out, and she staggered, almost falling. Sabin reached for her, but she jerked away. "No! Don't touch me!"

  He frowned. "The way you're acting, one would think you have—" He froze, a look of horror spreading across his face. "By the fires! You have Orana!" He stumbled back from her.

  "Lower your voice." Nessa glanced around, relieved to see the others some distance away. She looked at Sabin wearily. "I'm sorry you're exposed, but I don't think it's contagious yet. I just didn't want the children to catch it."

  He took another step back, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Is that why you brought them to me?"

  Nessa tried to focus her rapidly blurring thoughts. "Yes. Now about my brother—"

  "What's going on there?" Chase's voice cut in angrily.

  * * * *

  Sabin turned his head. "Nessa's ill. She needs medical treatment."

  "So?" Chase strode back down the corridor, highly aggravated by the fact Travers and Nessa had seemed so chummy lately. Not that he was jealous, he told himself. Damn, but Nessa looked even worse today. Cloud-white skin, dark circles beneath bloodshot eyes. "Why should I concern myself with a ship and computer larcenist?"

  Amazement crossed his partner's face. "You mean she's the one who tampered with—"

  "I know she is." Chase stared pointedly at Nessa, making his intent of retribution clear. "And she'll get hers. But right now, all I want to do is get the hell out of this Abyss, even if I have to carry her to speed things up."

  He reached for her, but she staggered away, looking toward Sabin, her eyes beseeching. "Please help him," she pleaded hoarsely.

  Chase's irritation flared. He grasped her arm. "Help who? What's going on here, Travers?"

  Sabin hesitated for the briefest moment. "She's concerned about Brand. Wants me to find a good home for him."

  Feeling an inexplicable pang at the mention of the mute little boy with huge, sad eyes, Chase pulled Nessa closer. "I want to discuss the children with you later, Travers. Right now, we're leaving. Be still, Nessa!"

  He swung her into his arms and headed up the corridor, toward the commander and his guards, who watched them suspiciously. After a brief struggle, where she tried to look around his arm at Sabin, she sighed and went limp, resting her head against his chest.

  She was burning with fever, hotter than the sands of Calt. Her sweat-drenched hair clung to her pale face; the dampness of her tunic seeped through his clothing. Panic resurfaced. She needed treatment immediately—only he didn't know for what.

  "What is going on here, McKnight?" the commander demanded. "And what's wrong with her?"

  "As I said, Commander, I have some personal grievances against this prisoner." Chase glanced at Nessa, his chest tightening. Her eyes closed, her breathing ragged, she appeared to have surrendered her grasp on consciousness. Only her clenched hands indicated otherwise. "I think she has the Alberian flu. You'd better be sure all your men are up to date on their immunizations."

  The soldiers drew back quickly. "Then get her out of here," the commander barked, retreating with his men.

  "Gladly," Chase muttered. He glanced at Sabin behind him. "Let's go."

  Sabin shifted back, his dark eyes unfathomable. "You go on, old man. I have some business to take care of here."

  "What business would you have in this hellhole?"

  "I need to settle a debt."

  So did Chase, with two different women.

  "You do that, Travers." He paused, bitterness warring with other, unidentified emotions. "Catch up with me later. I want a report on Raven and Brand."

  He wanted to see the two children, assure himself they were all right. He missed Brand's warm little body settling on his lap, the boy's soft sigh as he leaned against him.…He didn't need this! He strode toward the entry.

  "McKnight."

  Chase turned back to his partner. "Yes."

  Sabin inclined his head toward Nessa. "She's really sick."

  Chase's insides churned with a myriad of feelings. Concern, anger, resentment—and fear. Dread, actually, and a familiar sense of helplessness. "I can see that, Travers," he snapped. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

  "You seem to know a lot about medicine."

  Not enough. Not nearly enough. "I know a little."

  Sabin watched him, as if trying to discern his deepest secrets. "Are you going to help her?"

  Chase looked down at Nessa. She appeared truly unconscious now, her sagging hands almost sliding from the shackles. Her arms and legs were filthy with the slime from the brig. She felt so small and fragile in his arms. She'd lost weight she couldn't afford to lose.

  He couldn't let her die. Even after what she'd done to him, he still cared for her, drawn to her by inexplicable, emotional bonds.

  Yet she was no better than Dansan in her determination to destroy a life. It didn't matter if it was one life or hundreds, the intent was the same. She had betrayed him, just as Dansan had.

  He had tried to curse her last night. He wanted
to hate her…but he couldn't.

  Even now, all his instincts screamed for him to protect her, take care of her. His vows of healing also bound him, even though he'd turned his back on his profession three seasons ago. As much as he tried to believe that part of his life was over, he never seemed able to leave it completely behind.

  "I'll do what I can," he told Sabin. "Contact me later."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Heaving a sigh of relief, Chase entered his ship. Nothing else had delayed him. But Nessa had not stirred, which concerned him. Bypassing decontamination, he carried her to the laboratory and placed her on the table. After removing the shackles, he ran the monitor over her, cursing at the readings. The virus he'd detected a few weeks earlier had proliferated like wild keranis. It appeared to be a nasty one.

  Apprehension impaled him, as harrowing memories flooded him, taking him back three seasons. He'd battled a demon virus then. And he'd failed horribly.

  This virus seemed the likely cause of Nessa's symptoms—and a possible threat to her life. No…not again. Stop! he told himself firmly. The odds of her having a virus as deadly as the Ramos virus Dansan had engineered were minuscule. He just needed to draw some blood and analyze the virus, then compound an antidote.

  He sterilized his hands and slipped on gloves. As an added precaution, he donned a surgical mask, although he'd already been well exposed to whatever she had. Taking Nessa's arm, he swabbed away the grime with antiseptic solution, discovering the blotches weren't all dirt. Surprised, he cleaned her arm again, his alarm escalating.

  Large, ugly bruises lined her arm, mottled and purple beneath the surface. It looked like hemorrhaging under the skin, but he couldn't tell to what extent. He cleaned one leg, finding similar bruises. Checking beneath her tunic, he discovered more. They hadn't been there last night. What was this virus?

  He drew blood and placed it in the centrifuge. Then he woke Nessa with a stimulant injection, wanting to evaluate her mental faculties. As she stirred, he ran the monitor over her again, noting the abnormal readings. She stared up at him, confusion reflected in her eyes..