Damn it.
Eying the nearest cross corridor, he took a chance and sprinted that way. The rush of water drowned out any sounds of Ash’s movement, and when he reached the intersection, the strength of the current increased, almost taking him down.
He grabbed a safety rail on the wall. The depth was increasing too, the water lapping up to his knees now. He wouldn’t be able to remain standing if he continued down that corridor. Upflow would be slow though, slow enough that he should have seen Ash and her target.
He looked down the original corridor. Maybe he’d been farther behind Ash than he’d thought.
Something crashed downflow. Could be Ash. Could be anything.
But he had nothing else to go on.
One step farther into the corridor, and the deepening floodwaters yanked him off his feet.
He went under. The current shoved him into the central channel where intermittent filters cleaned trash and debris from the water. His shoulder slammed into one. He fought his way back to the surface, took a deep breath, and caught a glimpse of a lighted warning sign.
Ah, hell.
He was headed toward a purification center. The water channels fed into it, using the force of gravity to fuel the spiral cleansers that were the last step to treating the rainwater.
In other words, he was about to spill over an edge in a forty-meter waterfall that would end with him crashing his brains out on a floor of vertical carbon pipes.
Purifying chems burned his eyes, but he forced them to stay open and he kicked his legs and swam. Ash wouldn’t let herself die like this. Neither would he.
Pain exploded across his face and chest. His arms slipped past something, but his body was stuck. The water heaved him against whatever it was, ejecting the oxygen from his lungs. White noise roared around him. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.
He kicked and flipped, and his hands wrapped around metal bars.
A safety grate.
Lungs screaming for air, he pulled himself one bar at a time to the side of the channel until his hand met only the hard rush of water.
An opening. He could slip through there.
He could slip through and plummet to his death or…
He reached farther, holding the last bar with his left hand while his right searched for the channel wall. He found it and fought the raging current to slide his hand along the hard surface.
Yes.
He gripped a bar bolted into the wall. His left hand lost its grip, and the floodwater swept him out the gap.
His fingers slipped. Pure desperation allowed him to hold on long enough to twist and find another handhold on the outer face of the wall.
He hung there, sucking in air, heart racing and body freezing as the waterfall thundered beside him. The muscles in his arms and shoulders quivered. Seeker’s God, if he survived this, he was going to throttle Ash.
The bar grips bolted to the wall went up to a metal platform and down to a concrete walkway that circled the vertical pipes. Other pipes traversed the open cavity, taking excess drain water, both clean and unfiltered, to various sections of the city. And on one of the biggest pipes, Ash’s target jogged to the opposite side of the purification center.
Rykus hoisted himself up to the next bar grip then the next. He pulled himself onto the metal scaffold and turned just in time to see Ash step out onto the pipe.
The target reached the other side, turned, and raised his weapon.
“Ash!” Rykus yelled.
She launched herself backward off the pipe and rolled onto the scaffold, evading the gunfire.
The target, the member of Javery’s security forces that must have been a telepath, changed tactics. He fired three rounds into the pipe he’d just traversed. A white wall of water jetted straight up from the holes.
Rykus sprang to his feet the instant Ash did. He knew what she was about to do, knew that giving up wasn’t in her DNA.
“Stop, Ash.” Rykus controlled his tone, the rhythm and inflection in his words. If Ash had been closer, if the roar of the waterfall and the spray from the damaged pipe hadn’t drowned out his voice, the compulsion would have seized her.
Don’t do it. He willed the words to her, but the woman thought she was immortal. She ran out onto the pipe without hesitating, bent her knees before the wall of high-pressured water, then leapt.
Of course she made it. And of course he, the lovestruck idiot, was sprinting after her.
He ran down the length of the pipe. Two strides before he reached the white wall of water, he jumped, curling his legs to protect himself.
The punch of the water was harder than any hit he’d ever taken. It battered his face and chest, knocked the breath from his lungs, and sent him airborne.
He flailed blindly, praying he’d land on the damn pipe.
His hip hit metal. Then his head. Then he was rolling off, sliding down.
He caught a screw head the size of his hand and hung on.
Stupid. Stupid.
He didn’t bother to look below at what should be his death. He hoisted himself up.
At the other end of the platform, Ash leapt and grabbed a ladder mid-rungs.
Rykus stumbled to his feet, balanced his way across the rest of the pipe, then sprinted after her.
He was halfway up the ladder when he heard Ash cry out. The pain in her voice slammed into his heart. He rushed to the next level, saw Ash drop to the ground and curl into a ball. The telepath stood over her, bloody knife in hand.
“Ash!” Rykus charged down the tunnel.
The telepath’s head snapped in his direction. He looked back at Ash, then he dipped toward the ground and retrieved a pistol.
Rykus threw himself on top of Ash before the enemy could fire. When the gunshot didn’t come, he looked over his shoulder.
The Javerian security officer made the bloody knife disappear, but he still held the gun. His hand flexed around its grip.
“You’re one of them,” Rykus said.
The Javerian jerked as if Rykus had struck him. His hand tightened again on the weapon. He shook his head. Backed away.
Keeping Ash’s body shielded with his own, Rykus turned, facing the enemy straight on. He would kill the bastard.
“I’m sorry,” the telepath said. Then he ran.
Instinct to chase the fleeing target warred with his desire to help Ash. When she moaned behind him, the latter won out and he turned back to his anomaly.
Her eyes were squeezed shut in pain, and she clutched her left side. Blood stained her hands and mixed with the puddle of water growing beneath her.
“Ash?” He gently touched her face, angling her jaw up so he could look into her eyes when they opened and focused on him.
The trust and vulnerability in her green irises tugged something deep in his chest. He moved his thumb over her lower lip, which was still slightly swollen from a punch Hauch had landed during their “integration.” The floodwater had washed away the cosmetics she’d used to cover the discoloration on her cheek. The dark bruises were almost gone, though, thanks to the booster she’d injected. It would help heal the knife wound in her side too. As long as it wasn’t too deep and hadn’t hit anything vital.
“How bad is it?” he asked.
A frown creased her forehead.
“Ash?” His hands dropped to her soaked pants. He found the small trauma kit zippered inside a pocket on her thigh. “Talk to me.”
“He…” She closed her eyes again. Opened them. “He was a telepath.”
“I figured.” He ripped open a pouch containing a clot-cloth.
Ash licked her lips. She looked behind him in the direction the telepath had fled. “He’s getting away.”
“Yes.” This time his voice was firm. “He’s part of Javery’s security forces. He’s familiar with the planet, the city. You should have let him run.”
“I’m on this mission to detect telepaths.” A spark of defiance lit her eyes.
“No. That’s the reason you’re a
ccompanying Tersa to her meeting with the Sariceans. You weren’t to put your life at risk chasing solo after a target you know nothing about.”
“You wanted me to do nothing?”
He pulled her hand away from her side and pressed the clot-cloth against it. “I wanted you to be smart. I wanted you to protect yourself.”
Her shoulders squared. “I knocked the gun from his hand and deflected the knife. The wound isn’t that deep, and I almost had him. But he got into my head.”
“You let your guard down.” It wasn’t a reprimand, just a fact.
“I would have lost him if I hadn’t,” she said.
“I almost lost you!” He glared down at the gash in her side. She claimed it wasn’t deep? It was bleeding like hell.
“Rip.”
The tightness in her voice made him jerk his gaze up, but she wasn’t looking at him. Javerian police had entered the purification center. They were proceeding up a ramp on the opposite side of the chamber and hadn’t seen them yet. They would soon.
Ash put a hand on his chest and shoved. He didn’t budge. He frowned at her, not realizing what she wanted until he looked into her eyes. She was still staring at the Javerians, but instead of her usual I-can-take-on-the-universe determination, he saw fear. Fear and something else that made his gut twist. She wanted him away from her and out of danger.
“Go,” she ordered.
“They won’t hurt me.” He gripped her shoulder and squeezed until she focused on him and that eerie, unstable look in her eyes disappeared.
Seeker’s God, maybe she would lose it if something happened to him.
No time to worry about that now. He released her shoulder, took one deep breath, then another, and he numbed himself. He had to be a soldier, to think clearly and save her life.
“Javerian security is going to arrest you,” he said. “You’re going to let them.”
Ash stiffened. Her jaw clenched, and the concern in her eyes dissolved into a spark of aggression. She wanted to fight. She didn’t want to surrender herself into anyone’s hands.
“I’ll get you out of this,” he said, relieved that she seemed more anchored.
“No.” But that didn’t sound like her voice. It was colder than the floodwaters they’d just survived.
“What?” he said.
“No. You won’t get me out of this. I’ll take care of myself.” She rocked forward and tried to get up.
“Ash.” His hands locked on her shoulders. “They’ll kill you.”
“Stop.” She lifted her chin. Her nostrils flared. “You insist on treating me like a normal soldier. Fine. You’d leave a normal soldier to his fate. You wouldn’t risk your neck for him.”
Across the chamber, the Javerian police yelled.
Ash tried to knock his hands from her shoulders. He held on.
“Ash—”
“You want me to stay, then give me the order. Better yet, give the order to end this whole thing. Make me not want you.”
His breath froze in his lungs. Ash’s fierce green eyes held a challenge he didn’t want to understand. She couldn’t be asking him to command her feelings away. It was an egregious abuse of power.
“I can’t do that.” The words scratched against his throat.
“You can,” she accused. “You choose not to.”
The chill on his skin sank into his bones, making them as brittle as thin ice. Did she want him to end this? Did she want freedom from him?
“Hands in the air!” the police ordered, closing in.
Ash’s gaze locked on the threat. She gathered her feet beneath her.
His heart slammed against his chest, counting off the half seconds.
“Ash.” His voice was pleading, desperate, but she wasn’t even looking at him. She was going to get herself killed.
“Damn it, Ash. I love you.”
His words froze her in place.
14
For all their paranoia about anomalies snapping, the Javerians hadn’t taken extra precautions to contain Ash. A single, unbarred window separated her from the outside world. It was a good ten-meter drop to ground level. There was nothing but cement down there to break her fall, but she was fairly confident she could scale down the wall.
It helped that the Javerians had removed her restraints. They’d treated the knife wound in her side, then left her alone in this small, empty room.
Room. Not cell. This wasn’t a prison. It was an administrative building filled with security weaknesses just waiting to be exploited.
So why was she still there? Why didn’t she save her own ass? Break the window, look for a weakness in the door, something? It wasn’t because two Javerians stood guard in the corridor or because a security lens tracked her movements. Those obstacles could be overcome. The other obstacle, the one that had caused her to be captured in the first place, was something she couldn’t conquer.
Rykus.
He’d said he loved her, and the words had captured Ash more completely than the loyalty training ever had.
A man like Rykus didn’t throw those words around. He meant them. On some level, Ash had known how he felt, but she hadn’t let herself think about the significance of it.
Love meant long-term commitment.
Love meant deep, personal sacrifice.
Love meant being vulnerable to the pain of loss and betrayal.
All those things got people killed on Glory. It was dangerous to grow too attached to anyone. But she kept breaking that rule. She’d broken it on Glory when she’d trusted a few individuals, and she’d broken it when she became friends with her old teammates.
She closed her eyes. The pain of past betrayals and losses was nothing compared to what she would feel if she lost Rip. If something happened to him, she’d shatter.
That’s one reason she’d frozen when he made his confession. She didn’t want him caught in the crossfire. She didn’t want him hurt or detained. When she’d chased after the telepath, she hadn’t thought about what the consequences would be for him. Just how much trouble had she gotten him into? The Javerians hadn’t said one word about his status or condition.
She opened her eyes, then stared at the plain white wall, her fist clenching by her side. She wanted to slam it into the drywall, feel the pain as it reverberated from her knuckles to her elbow.
Why did he have to say the words out loud? He’d made this thing between them too real, and now she was terrified the universe would take notice and tear him away from her.
Relax, Ash. They were only words.
She had to get her equilibrium back. She had to be strong. Focused. Maybe if she didn’t say the words to him, this thing between them would last. She wanted it to last. Forever.
Fuck.
She turned away from the wall before she punched it. A broken hand wouldn’t help anything. She needed to think. She needed to lure the Javerians inside. Then she needed to manipulate them into spilling everything they knew about the security guard who’d—
Behind her, the door clicked. The small sound re-centered her. She shoved away her worries and fragility and adopted her standard, no-cares-in-the-world posture.
The door slid open, and Taya Rykus strolled into the room.
“Good morning,” Taya said.
Ash kept her surprise from showing. Barely.
“Good morning.” Ash leaned against the windowsill, the only “seat” in the room besides the floor. Taya didn’t have an armed escort. Interesting. “I’d offer you a chair, but…”
Taya’s gaze took in the square, empty space. “Not very hospitable, are they?”
Ash shrugged. “They’ve allowed me a guest. It’s better treatment than the last time I was imprisoned.”
Taya’s eyebrows went up. “Are you imprisoned often?”
“It seems to be becoming a trend.” Why the hell was Taya there? Ash had expected the prime or General Rykus or some random Javerian attorney who’d been assigned to her case. Instead, she got Taya? Rip’s sister had no re
ason to be there.
Unless they thought Ash was more likely to confess to a woman, but then why no guards? General Rykus wouldn’t risk sending his daughter unprotected to speak to an anomaly.
“Why are you here?” Ash asked the question casually, careful to make sure her posture and tone weren’t aggressive. Maybe the Javerians were baiting her into threatening the general’s daughter. Then they could rush to her rescue and be fully justified in taking Ash out.
“They won’t let Rhys see you, so I get to be your visiting ally.”
“Visiting ally? Is that a thing?”
Taya just smiled and walked to the left wall. Then she turned and paced to the right wall, almost as if she was interned into this makeshift prison herself.
“Rhys is pissed,” Taya said. “I haven’t seen him this mad since he resigned from Javery’s military.”
Something inside Ash’s chest relaxed. Pissed was good. It meant her fail-safe wasn’t hurt or in too much trouble, though Tersa was probably tearing into him because of Ash’s actions. He was probably getting hell from his father too.
“He’s worried about you,” Taya said.
Ash gave another deliberately casual shrug. “He’s worried I’ll do something ‘uncivil.’”
“Oh yeah?” Taya faced Ash, but her focus was out the window behind her. There wasn’t much to see outside. While it was technically morning, Javery’s sun hadn’t risen yet.
Come to think of it, dawn was still several hours away. It was barely past the middle of the night. It was a very odd time for a “visiting ally” to stop by.
“Does Rykus know you’re here?” Ash asked.
“Yes,” Taya answered immediately. Her voice was strong, and her eyes maintained unwavering contact with Ash’s.
The air in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
“You’re a horrible liar.” Ash pushed off the windowsill and walked past Taya. The security lens above the door didn’t budge; it was no longer tracking her movements.
Oh hell. This was even worse than Rykus just not knowing his sister’s whereabouts.
Ash moved to the door, pressed the open icon on the keypad.
“No! Don’t—”
Shades of Honor (An Anomaly Novel Book 2) Page 14