Then they waited.
Faron stood over the remains of Frith Yanger, deep in thought. Several men stood quietly nearby, keeping their distance from the body as he had ordered. Faron had been surprised to learn that the human ranch hands had immediately called his brothers on the vox to inform them of a problem at the main house. Several of them had then jumped into a ground-truck and raced to the house themselves. For some reason it had not occurred to him that they would display such loyalty. Now he realized that many of them had lived and worked for the Dracons for most of their lives, and he chastised himself for not giving them due credit.
He shook his head. He needed to focus. The truth was, he was so shocked and confused by what he had seen on Frith Yanger’s body that his mind was actually shying away from it. The implications were too huge for his mind to encompass. One thing he knew for certain was that he needed more information. He turned to his brothers.
“Dav, transform and backtrack this man. There were two people in a car that was stolen from the spaceport this morning and tracked up to the main gate. I think this man was one of them. I want the other one, alive if possible. Also, keep an eye out for Pater.
“Ric, take a couple of men and follow Dav. Be sure to stay behind him so you don’t interfere with the scent trail. It’s going to be tricky tracking Pater’s vehicle since it’s been all over this place. Leave a man here with a vox so you can keep us informed.”
Dav was shifting into his loboenca before Faron was finished speaking. Ric tossed his vox to a young man named Billy, indicating he was to stay behind with Faron before hurrying to the nearest ground-truck with the rest of the men.
Faron turned to his youngest brother. “Ban, run down to the iso barn and grab me a couple of stasis bags.” The isolation barn was where any livestock with signs of illness was taken. The stasis bags were designed for use on animals that died of illness, allowing the carcass to be held without decomposition until it could be tested and the illness identified. Those designed for use on humans and humanoids were not as big, and were a little better made, but essentially they served the same purpose. He needed to preserve Frith’s body as soon as possible for later examination by the council scientists.
He watched Ban shift and race away, leaving himself and Billy alone with Frith’s remains. Faron once more thought about the strange markings he had discovered on Frith’s abdomen, wondering how they had been placed there. Frith’s skin was a pale, dingy flesh tone, but the markings were ashy green with an oddly rough texture. Just looking at them made his loboenca want to howl. And they smelled wrong. Like they were not actually a part of Frith’s body, but someone, or something else embedded into his flesh. That thought led to another, and Faron frowned.
“Billy, let me borrow your vox,” he said. The young man unhooked the device from his ear and handed it over without hesitation. A couple of minutes later Faron was talking to Jackson Bearen. He explained the situation as quickly as he could, then came to his question.
“This man, Frith Yanger, was banished by the Prince a few weeks ago. How did he get back on the planet? Weren’t his scans and prints taken?”
Faron waited patiently while Bearen checked the system. It didn’t take long. “Yes,” Bearen replied. “They were taken and according to the records, he left several days later on a ship to Rondo. That’s the last time he shows up.”
Faron had been afraid of that.
“Do you believe this man was one of those who stole the ground-car?” Bearen asked.
“I don’t know for sure yet,” Faron replied, “but I think so.”
“We pulled all the vids tracing the thieves going back all the way to when they boarded the skyport,” Bearen told him. “I’m looking at the best image we have and it shows a middle aged male and an elderly female. The male seems to look a bit like this Frith Yanger, but he’s much thinner.”
“That’s him,” Faron said. “The man was fat a few weeks ago, but he’s not now. It’s the same man though, I can tell by the scent.” Faron hesitated briefly and added, “The part of the scent that is Yanger anyway.”
“What do you mean by that?” Bearen asked.
Faron explained the markings on Frith’s body and the way they smelled. Bearen swore softly in the ancient tongue.
“What is it?” Faron demanded. Bearen quickly told Faron about his search of the skyport and the strange scents he had come across. Faron was very disturbed by Bearen’s story, particularly his description of the scent he had encountered in the store room.
“Something tells me that the elderly woman accompanying Frith on the security vid is not, in reality, an elderly woman at all,” Faron said.
There was a short heavy silence before Bearen released a long, low hiss. “Do you suspect what I think?” he asked in a harsh whisper.
Faron hesitated. He didn’t want to start a panic, but he couldn’t ignore the growing evidence either. “Maybe,” he said finally. “I don’t know enough yet. But it makes sense Jackson. You smelled a guard that changed into something else. There is an elderly woman on the security vid, Yanger smells wrong. Its starting to sound like an adinare to me.”
Bearen swore. “A Narrasti shape changer,” he said in a harsh whisper. “Damn that’s hard to wrap my brain around.”
Faron understood completely. “I don’t know anything for certain yet, so keep this quiet for now,” he warned.
Bearen laughed, a sharp bark with no humor in it. “No need to worry about that,” he said.
Faron made a quick decision. “Bearen, whether it’s what I suspect or not, something is going on here that is deeper than an attack on the Dracons’ Arima by an angry human. Not that that isn’t bad enough.”
“And you would like a little extra back-up,” Bearen guessed.
“Yes,” Faron replied. “The Princes are fighting to save the life of their Arima, we have one body here, and another…being…somewhere out there. The only true guards are myself and my brothers and we are already stretched thin. I would like more trained Jasani.”
“My brothers and I will be there as soon as possible,” Bearen said. “Do you want me to pull a few more male-sets?”
Faron considered that for a moment. “Not yet. Let’s keep this close until we know more.”
“Very well,” Bearen said. “Give us a few hours.”
Faron felt a slight lessening of his tension. “Thanks Jackson,” he said.
“No need,” Bearen replied.
Once the connection was closed Faron returned the vox to Billy. He still had awhile to wait before he could expect the team he’d sent out to reach the main gate. It was possible that Frith had driven in from some other part of the ranch, and Dav would track the ground-truck just in case. But Faron was almost certain the trail was going to lead them straight to the main gate, and once they reached it he had a feeling they were going to find Pater. He only hoped the man was still alive. If he wasn’t, Lariah would be heartbroken.
Thinking of Lariah made him realize he had a free moment and could check on her. He reminded Billy to stay away from the body and to let no one near it, then stepped closer to the door of the house and looked inside.
Chapter 18
Lariah felt as though she were floating in a dark void of pain. She struggled to push the pain into its own compartment where she could build a mental wall around it, succeeding just enough that she could think. Was this Tiny’s pain she was feeling? she wondered, or perhaps another animal? She focused on the pain, letting it in just a little before flinching back at the intensity of it. “Nope,” she thought, “this one’s mine.”
She opened her eyes and found herself staring directly into Garen’s worried gaze. His forehead was furrowed into deep lines of worry, his mouth pulled into a frown. She felt his hands on either side of her head, and when she tried to move they tightened, holding her in place.
“Easy sharali,” he said softly. “It is very important that you not move.”
The pain, combined with the in
ability to move brought back too many memories. Lariah fought against the panic caused by her helplessness. The only reason she did not lose control completely was that she could see Garen, and feel both Trey and Val sitting close beside her. She focused on their presence, knowing that she was safe as long as they were there.
“I hurt,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “Why do I hurt?” she asked.
“You have been injured,” Garen said, his voice low and gentle. “You will be fine, but for right now, you must not move or you could make your injury worse.”
“Injured how?” she asked, beginning to feel desperate for information. “What happened?” She strained to remember even as she asked the question.
“I opened the door for Pater…only…was it Pater? Then Tiny….” Suddenly she remembered Tiny’s roar right before he leapt past her in a blur of black and gold fur. “Tiny,” she gasped, “where is he? Is he okay?”
“Tiny is right here with you,” Trey said, placing her hand on the dog’s head. Tiny whimpered softly, as though knowing she needed to hear him. The knowledge that Tiny was safe helped her to relax a little. But she was still confused. She didn’t understand why they were just sitting there, holding her down when she hurt so much.
“Garen, I don’t understand what’s happening,” she said, trying hard not to sound as though she were complaining. “Why am I on the floor? How did I get hurt?”
Doc’s craggy face appeared in her field of vision as he leaned over Garen’s shoulder and looked down at her. “You got hurt because some crazy bastard hurt you,” he said gruffly. “But don’t you worry none. We’re gonna make it better here in just a minute.” As he spoke he stepped around behind Garen and knelt down near her shoulder, which, she immediately realized, was the source of the pain.
“Now honey, I need you to stay real still while I take this thing out of your shoulder,” Doc said, his voice low and soothing now.
Lariah swallowed hard and took a deep breath as she stared up at Garen. She had no idea what “thing” Doc was going to take out of her shoulder, and she didn’t want to ask. “Don’t leave me,” she said softly, the words slipping out before she could bite them back.
“Never,” Garen promised her, his voice harsh with intensity, though his gaze was tender.
“We’re all right here, little love,” Trey said, stroking her hand lovingly.
“We won’t leave you for a moment,” Val added.
Lariah swallowed hard once more and gathered her courage. “Alright Doc,” she whispered. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“We’re gonna have to do this a little bit at a time,” Doc said. “I’m sorry for that, but it can’t be helped.
“Don’t worry Doc,” Lariah said, her gaze locked with Garen’s. So long as her men were with her, she decided, she could do whatever she had to. “I can do this.”
Garen’s fingers continued to rub Lariah’s temples, his eyes never leaving hers.
“When I say to, I want you to take a long, deep, slow breath,” Doc said. “And I need you to work real hard not to move.”
“Alright,” she replied.
“Ready honey?” Doc asked.
“Yes,” she said, her heart leaping in her chest as she spoke. She felt a dull pain deep in her upper chest as something shifted slightly.
“Now,” Doc said softly.
Lariah obediently began to inhale, never shifting her gaze from Garen’s. Her breath caught for a second as the pain flared so intensely that her vision darkened around the edges, but she forced herself to remain motionless and continued to breathe in as slowly as she could.
“Good girl,” Doc said finally. “Let it out and breathe regular for a moment and we will do that again.”
Lariah breathed out, then in again slowly, working to clear her vision and distance herself from the pain. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead, but she ignored it, her focus entirely on making her body and mind relax.
“Okay Doc,” she said after a minute, her voice shaky but determined. “I’m ready when you are.”
Faron stood watching as Garen spoke to Lariah. Lariah responded, which meant she was awake, and relief flooded him. Until he looked toward Doc, kneeling at her side, and saw the knife handle sticking out of her flesh. Faron had been to war and had seen many horrors. But the sight of that handle in Lariah’s flesh seemed worse to him than any sight he had ever seen. If that small, delicate woman with the heart of a dracon were to die, so too would the dreams of his people, and his Princes. His heart in his throat, he had to struggle to turn and walk away when he heard Billy call to him.
It took several more long, deep breaths, Doc removing the knife in tiny increments each time, before he was sure it was safe to remove it completely. Garen, Trey and Val were appalled at the size of the blade, realizing anew how lucky they were that Lariah was even alive. Once more Tiny received heartfelt praise from them all. If not for him, they were certain they would have lost her.
It was only after the knife was removed and Lariah’s body had time to regenerate enough to close the wound completely that Garen allowed himself to believe she was out of danger. Doc insisted that she remain still for a few more minutes, just to be safe. While they waited, Garen realized that they now had a whole new set of worries to deal with.
The serum had apparently worked as they had hoped. Her body had regenerated and healed the life threatening wound, and for that he was profoundly grateful. The question now was, what next?
Doc put his instruments away and nodded at Garen. “Alright, let’s get her up off this floor,” he said.
Garen, Val and Trey had to help Lariah sit up, and then to stand. None of them were able to make themselves let go of her. Tiny was beside himself, wriggling like a puppy and making funny little yipping sounds, though he was careful not to bump into Lariah or hit her with his long, whip-like tail.
Doc spent another minute checking and rechecking Lariah’s heart, lungs, and pulse before pronouncing her fit. Lariah wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you Doc,” she said softly.
“Well honey, I’d say any time, but I don’t think any of us could bear goin’ through such a thing again,” Doc said gruffly. They all pretended not to notice the suspicious moisture in Doc’s blue eyes.
Garen shook Doc’s hand in the manner of humans and thanked him sincerely, but quickly. He then swept Lariah into his arms, unable to bear another moment of her standing there covered in her own blood. As he hurried toward the bath, Trey and Val saw Doc out, then followed after them.
By the time Val and Trey reached the bathroom Garen already had Lariah stripped, and the tub filling. The three of them crowded close to her, checking her for other injuries, insuring for themselves that the wound on her shoulder was gone and that no trace of it remained.
Lariah felt their tension bordering on panic, and remained still, allowing them to assure themselves that she was well. Only then did Garen pick her up again and step into the bath with her, lowering her slowly into the hot water. Trey and Val both stripped and joined them, each grabbing a cloth and soap. They washed the blood from her body as quickly as they could while Garen held her, none of them able to tolerate the sight of it on her body another moment.
Only after every trace of blood was gone and they had replaced the water in the tub, did they begin to relax.
“So, anyone want to tell me what happened?” she asked.
“We were hoping you could help us with that,” Garen replied. “All we know for sure is that Frith Yanger is dead, and that Tiny attacked and killed him, which saved your life. He was able to stab you because, apparently, you opened the door for him.” His raised brow indicated that he wanted an explanation for that.
“Well, I was reading one of the books you guys gave me,” she said slowly, trying to remember. “I saw Pater through the window, or rather, I saw his shadow, that big hat he wears, you know?” Garen nodded. “I wanted to talk t
o him about something, so I went to the door and opened it just as he knocked, which I thought was odd. But it wasn’t really Pater. Then I heard a roaring sound from behind me and I turned and saw Tiny leaping past me. After that …I sort of remember something about red paint spilling all over me, and I was worried it would get on the book…then nothing.”
“Had you not turned when you heard Tiny, that knife would have undoubtedly done more damage than it did,” Garen said.
“I wonder why I didn’t have that sensation of fear I’ve been getting every time something bad was about to happen to me,” she said thoughtfully.
“You didn’t feel anything at all this time?” Trey asked.
“No, nothing at all,” Lariah said. “But I don’t understand why that man tried to kill me. Do you think it’s just because I saved his dog?”
“Faron is working on the answer to that,” Garen assured her. “Don’t worry about it right now. The man is dead and can do no more harm.”
Lariah nodded, her frown indicating that she was thinking of something else now. After a moment she sighed. “So, are you guys going to tell me how it is that Doc pulled a giant knife out of me and I don’t even have a mark to show for it?”
Garen hesitated. “Are you sure you are ready for this?” he asked. “You don’t have to deal with this right now.”
Lariah reached out to pull Val and Trey closer to her. Only when all three men surrounded her, their bodies touching hers, did she seem satisfied. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said.
Garen told her the extent of the damage done by the knife, and the extreme measure they had taken to save her life. As he spoke he realized that a part of him was afraid that Lariah would condemn them, condemn him, for making such a choice for her.
The Dracons' Woman: Book 1 of the Soul-Linked Saga Page 27