by Nina Croft
He left the room.
“Can you contact Devlin and Saffira?” Tannis asked. “Tell them to rendezvous with us at Trakis Twelve. Maybe there’s something Saffira can tell us about this.”
Thorne suspected there was. In her time on Earth, Saffira had lost her ability to see the future, but it had returned when she had joined with Meridian. He knew she’d seen things she wasn’t sharing. But he trusted her to tell them if her visions were something they needed to know.
“How long to Trakis Twelve?” he asked.
“Twenty-four hours. Give or take.”
That was less than he’d expected. But then, the Trakis system had two suns, and many of the planets did complicated orbits around both, changing the relative distances between them.
“Well, we’re going back to bed.” Fergal gave an exaggerated yawn. “I have a lot of…sleeping to catch up on.”
“I thought you’d been sleeping for the last six months,” Tannis said.
“There’s sleeping and sleeping,” he replied with a grin as he dragged Daisy after him.
Thorne wanted to go and check on Candy, but couldn’t think of an acceptable excuse. She could hardly come to any harm locked in a cell. At least he could relax for a while. Go get some rest. Maybe by then she’d have come to her senses and be ready to apologize, and they’d let her out.
He’d put off going home until they’d checked out Trakis Twelve. Then he’d have an idea what was going on and could decide if he needed to take any measures. And maybe he should wait until they met up with Saffira, see if she had anything to tell him.
Then he’d go home.
Tannis glanced up as he passed. “So are you leaving now?”
“Not quite yet.”
“What a surprise.” She sighed. “Just watch your step. If anyone’s head explodes—I’ll come looking for you.”
…
Candy peeled her eyes open.
She was lying on the floor. She must have passed out, because no way could she remember how she got here.
She pushed herself up on her elbows and blinked, but a wave of weakness sucked her down and she collapsed back to the smooth, hard floor. She closed her eyes, trying to even out her ragged breathing.
Sharp jolts of pain stabbed her in the skull, and crimson lights flashed behind her closed lids. Her limbs felt unbearably heavy, and cold was seeping through to her bones.
What the hell was wrong with her?
She forced her eyes open and it came back to her. She was in a cell. They had locked her up in a goddamned cell and left her here to die.
No. They hadn’t done that. They didn’t want her to die. Just to apologize.
Sorry. I’m sorry. Please come back.
But she couldn’t get the words out. Her tongue felt too big and her throat too constricted. Her gaze flickered around the small room and then settled on the hand which lay in front of her face. The skin was tinged with a faint violet.
And suddenly she knew.
Nausea rose up in her throat. She swallowed, and heat engulfed her.
Think.
It could only have been hours since they’d put her in here. She couldn’t have gotten so ill so fast. Sardi had told them it took weeks for the first symptoms to show. Besides, he’d said only humans got sick, and she wasn’t human.
Shift. I need to shift.
She reached inside her, calling her wolf, but she’d left it too late and her wolf was cowering far away, too weak to answer.
The heat oozed out of her, leaving her shaking.
Across the room was a small button on the wall. They’d come if she called. All she had to do was get there. But even as she pushed up, she knew she didn’t have the strength to make it.
Her arms gave way and a low mewling sound trickled from her throat.
She didn’t want to die.
Where the hell was Thorne? He wouldn’t let her die. He’d save her.
She opened her mouth to call, but darkness was creeping over her, dragging her under.
Chapter Five
“Two hours to Trakis Twelve,” Daisy said from the pilot’s seat as Thorne entered the bridge.
He’d spent the day in his cabin, resting and resisting the urge to go see Candy and suggest she apologize. Maybe she already had and she’d been released.
Tannis and Callum stood together in the center of the room, studying the scanners. Thorne cleared his throat, and they turned as one. “Is Candace out yet?” he asked.
Tannis shrugged. “I have no clue. She hasn’t apologized to me.”
“Has anyone checked on her?”
“I doubt it. There’s a comm unit in the cell, and a food dispenser. She’s not going to come to any harm. In fact, she’s probably safer in there than anywhere else. Maybe we’ll leave her there.”
Thorne knew she was right, but something niggled at him. He reached out with his inner senses. He’d never tried to touch Candy’s mind; now he would have liked a sneak peek that she was all right. But nothing.
Candy hated to be confined. He knew that. She’d told him it was a werewolf thing. So why was she being so stubborn?
“I’m going to go check on her.”
Tannis raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything to stop him as he headed to the transporter bubble. The brig was on the lowest level, and he was tensed up like a coiled spring by the time the transporter opened.
The engine rooms were also on this level, and a low, continuous hum of power thrummed in the air. The main door to the cell block opened to his command, and he entered the area and stood, staring around.
A green light blinked over cell one, showing it was occupied. He hurried over, and again the door opened to his command. He could override any of the protocols on the Blood Hunter. Something else he hadn’t told Tannis.
For a moment it looked as if the cell was empty and she was already gone. Then he glanced down and a growl rose up in his throat. She lay sprawled out on the floor, her cuffed arms raised above her head, her eyes closed.
Her skin was tinged blue, and for a second his heart stopped beating. He collapsed to his knees beside her and lightly touched his hand to her throat. Beneath his fingertip, her pulse was rapid and uneven, but it was there. He rolled her gently onto her back and brushed her long hair from her face. Dried blood crusted beneath her nostrils and at the corner of her eyes.
Panic engulfed him. This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t die. She was the most alive person he had ever met.
He shook her gently, but her eyes remained closed.
How? He’d never heard of the Meridian poisoning taking hold so quickly.
Nobody survived. Not without the treatment.
Right now, the only source of Meridian was through the black hole at Trakis One and no way could they make it in time. This was moving too fast. But why? From what they understood about the sickness, she shouldn’t have even been affected. She wasn’t human. Or not entirely.
If Saffira had been here, he would have risked a wormhole, but Saffira was still far away and her wormholes were never reliable.
Christ, what the hell was he supposed to do? He picked her up in his arms; she was tall for a woman but felt fragile cradled against his chest. A scream was building up inside him, pressing against his skull.
His head felt on the point of explosion, his brain expanding, reaching out…and suddenly the ship lurched to the side. He was thrown against the far wall with Candy still in his arms.
Get a grip. He couldn’t afford to lose control. Holding her tightly with one arm, he pressed his fingers to his forehead, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply.
I must not lose control. I must take back my thoughts. Seal them in. Close them off.
Slowly, as he whispered the mantra through his mind, a measure of calm returned. The ship hadn’t reacted again, but maybe he needed to shut down the thought-control system until he was sure he could control himself. The captain wouldn’t be pleased if he crashed her ship.
First, thou
gh, he had to save Candy.
He pushed himself to his feet with her still in his arms and pressed the comm unit on his wrist, not wanting to risk a telepathic connection until he was sure he was in total control.
“Tannis? Candy is ill—the same sickness. I’m taking her to sickbay, but get ahold of Jon—we need to know everything about werewolves.”
He closed off the link without waiting for her to speak and headed out of the cell and to the transporter bubble.
“Sickbay.”
Candy showed no signs of regaining consciousness as he carried her into the sickbay and laid her on the bed. At least he had his panic under control and his mind locked down tight.
Tannis was already there, and she hurried over and stood staring down at the unconscious girl. Her expression was blank, but a tic jerked in her cheek. She’d almost died of the same sickness. Reaching out, she stroked the hair away from Candy’s face, then unlocked the cuffs from her wrists. “How is she sick so fast? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe a werewolf thing, I don’t know. We need to talk to Jon.”
“Fergal is trying to reach him now.” She was moving around the cot, pulling off Candy’s boots, straightening her limbs. She was still unconscious, but an occasional shudder ran through her body.
He needed to do something, but his mind blanked. He’d faced losing people before, but he’d never felt like this—totally helpless.
And scared.
What if she died?
What if he lost it?
He turned away, paced the room, came back to the bed. Tannis was wiping the dried blood from Candy’s face with a damp cloth.
“Captain…?”
She glanced up at him then frowned as she caught his expression. “What?”
“If I look like…I’m losing it—”
“Losing it?” she interrupted. “What does that involve exactly?” Her eyes narrowed. “You doing weird head things with my ship?”
“Not if I can help it. But if I lose it, you knock me out. If she dies…”
Tannis stared at him a second longer. “She’s not going to die. I won’t let her. And you’re not going to lose it. But I will shoot you if I deem it necessary.”
“Good.”
“Shit, there must be something we can do. I hate doing nothing.” The comm on her wrist flashed. She pressed to put it on speaker. “Yes?”
“I’ve got Jon,” Fergal said. “I’ll put him on.”
“What’s going on?” Thorne heard the roughness in his voice. He was guessing Jon had recently shifted. The werewolf hadn’t been entirely himself since they’d released him from an eight-year sojourn in a prison cell. Not good for a werewolf.
“It’s Candy,” Tannis said. “She’s sick.”
“How sick?”
“Right now, she’s dying. It’s the Meridian poisoning, Jon. She went to Trakis Two. The whole planet is down with the sickness, but we thought it was only affecting the humans. Now she’s sick and it’s hitting her fast—faster than I’ve ever heard of.”
“It will be her metabolism—it’s quicker than a normal human. Tell her to shift. That should clear the sickness.”
“She’s unconscious.”
“Crap.” He was silent for a minute, and Thorne sensed the waves of frustration rolling off him, even through the comm. “You have to wake her.”
“I’ll try a stimulant,” Tannis said. “Give me a second.”
She scrabbled in a drawer behind the cot and came up with a syringe. Thorne held his breath as she came around and stood over Candy, then stabbed the needle into the muscle of her thigh.
“Come on,” he muttered.
Candy’s spine arched, lifting her off the cot, but then she slumped down, her eyes still closed. Tannis reached out and checked her pulse. “It’s not working,” she said, and her voice was laced with panic. It threatened to awaken his own, and he clamped down hard on his thoughts.
“How long can she hold on?” Jon asked. “I’m on my way. I think I can draw her wolf, but only if I’m there.”
“I don’t know. We’ll turn the ship around. Come to meet you, but I…” She broke off. It would take twenty-four hours at least, and Candy was dying.
“Just keep her alive.”
“I’ll try.” Tannis raked a hand through her hair. “She is not fucking dying. No way. I just… I just don’t know what to do.” She turned to face Thorne. “Do something. Save her.”
Thorne stared down at the unconscious girl. He’d never tried to reach Candy’s mind. He’d told himself it was an invasion of privacy, but maybe he’d been too scared of what he might find in there. Afraid to discover what she truly thought of him.
Now, he closed the distance between them, shifted her body on the bed, and perched himself beside her.
“What are you doing?” Tannis asked.
“I’m going to wake her.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure, but whatever it takes.”
He rested a hand against her cheek, and the skin burned beneath his fingertips. He turned her slightly so if her eyes had been open she would have been staring straight up at him. Her lids flickered as though she were dreaming. She was in there somewhere. All he had to do was reach her, drag her back from wherever her spirit had retreated.
He could do this.
Slowly, he released the bonds around his consciousness, tentatively at first. He was vaguely aware of Rico and Skylar entering the room but ignored their presence.
He concentrated on Candy. Reached out with his mind. Touched hers. At first he hit a wall, and despair threatened to overcome him. If he couldn’t even get in, how was he supposed to save her?
It was her wolf, guarding the entrance to her thoughts. But werewolves retained a part of their humanity, and that part would open to him. He gritted his teeth, formed his mind into a probe, and searched for chinks in the wall.
“Let me in, Candace.”
He pushed harder. He’d never done this before, and didn’t know how hard he could push before he would destroy what he sought to save. She flinched, her body stiffening, all her muscles locked tight as the wall guarding her mind dissolved to nothingness. And then he was inside her, part of her.
“You need to wake up, Candy.”
There was no response, but a jolt of pain zapped him in the head. And he knew it was a mere echo of what she was feeling.
“The pain won’t kill you. Hiding will. Wake up and shift.” But she was drifting farther away. “Think of your parents, Candy. They’ll miss you.”
“They don’t need me. They have each other.”
“They love you.”
“It hurts. Too much. They’ll get over me.”
She wanted to die, was giving up. Had given up, withdrawn inside herself, curled up in a ball, and prepared to die. He felt the first flickering of anger, and she flinched again.
“Ouch.”
She sensed his emotions through the link he had created. It had never been a two-way thing before. People got what he sent and nothing more, but Candy had felt his anger.
“I won’t get over you.” He allowed the despair that had filled him when he’d found her to seep back. He showed her how he’d felt, what she meant to him. “I’m dying, Candy. Only you can save me.”
He sensed the first stirrings of her consciousness.
“Come back, Candy, or you’ll take me with you.”
He forced an image into her mind, his body, broken and bleeding. Lifeless.
“No.”
“I’ll die without you. I’ve never kissed you. I need to kiss you, Candace, to taste you. Come back…”
For a moment, she was silent within his head. He could feel the pain she was fighting, the knowledge of her own death so close.
“Tell me,” she whispered in his mind. “Tell me how you feel. Tell me why I should come back.”
“Come back first, and then I’ll tell you. Prove you’re not a coward. Wake up, and I’ll kiss you…”
“Like the fairytale.”
“Just like it…”
He felt her gathering herself, pushing her consciousness to the surface. He opened his eyes, pulled her into his arms. As the first tremor racked her body, he held her through the pain. Finally, she lay still, and her lashes flickered open.
“Tell me.” Her voice was a hoarse croak and blood flecked at the corners of her mouth.
“Later. Shift—it will save you.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Do it!”
Her eyes widened, almost black, and filled with pain. But she struggled in his arms, and he lowered her to the bed.
He’d never seen a werewolf shift, wasn’t sure he wanted to see it now. Would she hate him for this? It didn’t matter.
“Help me.” She was struggling with her clothes and he realized what she needed. Gripping the neckline of her vest, he ripped it down the front, then unfastened her leather pants and stripped them down over her long legs, leaving her naked.
She rolled onto her front, her breath coming short and sharp.
He stood up and stepped away as something strange tingled through the air surrounding her.
Magic.
Her spine arched and her head went back, a shrill scream erupting from her throat. He made to go to her, but Rico stopped him with a hand on his arm. He’d forgotten the others were even in the room.
“Leave her. She’s doing fine,” Rico said.
The words sank in. But how could this be doing fine? She appeared as though she were being ripped apart. The small room filled with the crack of bones as they snapped and realigned. Glossy dark fur flowed over her skin. Her face turned to his, and her eyes glowed feral.
He felt as though he were watching something private, that he should turn away but he stood glued to the spot.
“It’s not normally so painful,” Rico murmured from beside him. “But she’s still fighting it.”
“Let go.”
He forced the words into her mind and saw the last flicker of humanity in her eyes as she stared back at him. Then her head drooped, the fight left her, and the change surged through her like magic.