Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest

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Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest Page 19

by Susan Kearney


  He kept his tone light. “Exactly.” She needed time and space to come to grips with what was happening between them. During their lovemaking, she’d startled him. For several minutes, her psi had shoved against his, seeming almost as strong as his own. Perhaps his own psi had reflected back—he couldn’t be certain. However, a conversation about his actions would not be in his best interests right now.

  Oh, no. She lifted her chin and locked gazes, clearly in I-want-to-talk mode. “You should have asked me if I wanted you to—”

  “I did ask.”

  “You waited until I couldn’t say no.”

  “As I recall, you were perfectly capable of speaking.”

  “You transferred your lust to me … so your asking became rhetorical. No woman could have said no.”

  He sighed, wishing he could have avoided this conversation. But since he couldn’t, he answered directly from the heart. “My feelings aren’t for any woman. They are for you.”

  She swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable. Good. Maybe now he could change the subject. Then the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day and saving him from saying more.

  He opened the door and slipped out. They walked down a corridor filled with children and adults, all exiting the building.

  “Don’t do that again,” she warned. He should have known she wouldn’t drop the subject.

  But even with all the noise and chaos around them, he felt compelled to argue. “You don’t like the closeness we shared.”

  “You made me want you.”

  He chuckled. “I can’t make you feel anything you don’t want to feel.”

  “Damn you.”

  “Come on, Angel. Think. You were amenable to sex from the moment I mentioned it. I just hastened the process along a little faster than you were comfortable with.”

  “What you did was the difference between accelerating a skimmer and jumping into hyperdrive.”

  “So? You aren’t angry at the speed at which I got you hot and bothered.”

  She rolled her eyes. “How dare you tell me why I’m angry.”

  “You’re angry because I upped the level of intimacy between us beyond your comfort zone.”

  She glared at him. “You know, sometimes I really don’t like you.”

  He laughed again, trying to keep his tone teasing. “Yeah, it’s a bitch to be me because I’m never wrong.”

  “Correction. Sometimes I really hate you.”

  “Because I’m right … you hate me?”

  “Yes.” She spat at him through gritted teeth.

  Kirek could see her trying to sort through her feelings and work past her confusion. He didn’t know if she was succeeding, and though he was utterly certain of his take on her reservations, he wasn’t at all certain she would forgive him. Not because of what he’d done, but because she didn’t want to feel anything for him. Anger was her best defensive move to shut him out. Once they returned to the ship, he was about to give her another reason, several reasons, to stifle whatever feelings she had. That’s why he’d risked pushing her so hard, and he accepted that his plan may have alienated her instead of bringing them closer.

  “Something’s wrong.” She stiffened, yanked him into the threshold of an empty classroom, halting them for no good reason he could see. But he was for any change at all in the subject.

  “What is it?” In front of them, behind them, and to both sides kids walked, ran, and danced down the corridor. He refused to pull a weapon without a direct threat in sight, not with all the children still exiting the school.

  “They know we’re here.”

  “How do you know?” Kirek peered ahead and saw nothing alarming. No botcops. No Kraj.

  “I can practically feel the malicious vibrations.” At his curious glance, she shrugged. “If you were a botcop and hostiles had hidden in a school full of kids, wouldn’t you surround the place and wait for them to walk out rather than take a chance of shooting a student?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Trust doesn’t go just one way, Kirek.” Her tone remained firm, reasonable, and certain. “You have your-born-in-hyperspace psi, I sense … trouble. Right now, it’s out there. We need to find an alternate escape route.”

  Angel was so strong and determined. So was her psi. When Kirek thought back to how strong her psi had been during lovemaking, he surmised it might be possible that she had a much stronger psi than he knew.

  Again he wondered if it was fate that they had met. Several times during his lifetime the Perceptive Ones had interfered in the course of history. During his last mission Kirek had learned the Perceptive Ones wanted beings to evolve to a new level of evolution to fight the Zin—but would they go so far as to arrange for his path and Angel’s to meet? He didn’t know. All he was certain of was his knowledge—almost from the first time he’d seen her—that fate had played a hand in their meeting.

  But those were questions for the Perceptive Ones—if and when they ever met again.

  Kirek nodded toward the stairs. “Let’s try the basement. If that doesn’t work, we’ll go up to the roof.”

  “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “Believing me.”

  He grinned. “Who said I believe you?”

  She socked him in the arm. His psi shield protected him, but he pretended it hurt.

  “Ouch. That’s going to leave a mark.” He took her hand as they headed into a dank and dark basement. “But I’ve heard there’s an old Earth custom that requires kissing an ache to heal it.”

  She shook her hand loose and flipped on a light. “You are impossible.”

  “Persistent.” He placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Reckless.” She smirked, slipped away from his touch with a casual shrug.

  “I prefer to think I’m daring.”

  Janitorial supplies, a mop, cleaning materials, and a bucket stood in a corner with broken desks and outdated vidscreens. Electric wires jutted into central circuitry. Water dripped from pipes.

  “There.” He pointed. “Those water pipes in the tunnel must come in from outside this building. If we follow them to an exterior wall, we can blast our way out.”

  This was one of those times he really missed his astral power, to extend his psi beyond his body, and he had to tamp down his frustration. If he’d been fully healed, he could have zapped to the end of the pipes to see whether they should try this route or another. Now he wouldn’t know what awaited them until he went to the trouble of physically moving his body there.

  He consoled himself with the thought he’d be following Angel, and he never tired of watching her. “You go first. That way if I get stuck—”

  “I won’t be able to get back out.”

  “We aren’t coming back this way.”

  She frowned but slid into the tunnel. “Ever since I’ve met you, you keep sending me into tight spaces.”

  “Hey, I wanted to walk out the front door. This was your idea.” He squeezed sideways, turned his head, and sidestepped after her.

  “I’ve probably saved your life.”

  He lowered his voice to a sexy whisper. “I’d be more than happy to show you how grateful I am … later.”

  “Don’t you ever think about anything else?”

  “Than how sexy you are?” At his words, she snorted, muttered a curse, but kept advancing.

  He grinned, knowing it would irritate her if he didn’t let her have the last word. “Let’s see, would I rather think about your cute bottom scooting along in front of me or the Kraj outside ready to shoot us? I’ll take your hot little body anytime over—”

  “Stop.”

  “Don’t you want to hear how much I like—”

  “I meant stop advancing, not making advances. I’m at a dead end.”

  “Already? Can you hear anything?”

  “Not hardly. Not past all the hot air coming out of your big—”

  “Shh.” He heard the roar of an engine cycling. “Listen.” Pumps? The whoosh
of a generator or some kind of motor? The sound stopped. Then, nothing. But they were underground … then he recalled the public transportation system.

  “What is it?” Angel asked.

  “There’s probably a mag tunnel on the other side of this wall.”

  “One way to find out. Give me a little room.”

  He scooted back, and so did she. “Ready?” Without waiting for his reply, Angel raised the blaster and fired. The wall crumbled.

  She advanced and knocked over rocks and crumbling foundation with her boot then leaped out of sight. A moment later he jumped free of the tunnel onto a mag track.

  “Seems like you were right.” Angel spoke with no hostility, and he took that as a hopeful sign. He’d found being right too often grated on some people’s egos, but she was all business, turning toward the tunnel and blasting it again, causing the ceiling to cave in on the pipes. “If anyone comes looking for us, maybe they’ll conclude that’s a natural cave-in.”

  He doubted it. Close examination would reveal the blaster burn. But anything that slowed pursuit might give them an edge. He turned in the direction of the spaceport and began walking along the mag track.

  They covered a quarter mile before Angel spoke, her voice tight. “What happens if a mag car comes through while we’re in this tunnel?”

  “It depends on how much room the engineers left around the vehicle. Why?”

  “A mag car is coming.”

  “You hear it?” he asked, because his hearing seemed keener than hers, and he could only hear their footsteps on rock and her breath as they hurried down the tunnel, lit by emergency lighting.

  “More like I feel it.”

  “Vibrations through your feet?”

  She shook her head. But he didn’t doubt her. How could he—when he also now heard the loud-and-clear roar of the oncoming mag car bearing down on them. “You don’t see a convenient cranny to hide in?”

  “Not since we blasted in here.” Her eyes widened with fear, but she didn’t panic in the face of what appeared to be imminent death. The cars sped on electromagnetic tracks, and their incredible speeds were lethal.

  “All right.” Time for an alternate plan. “Jump on my back.”

  He had to give her credit. She didn’t waste time asking why. She simply leaped and locked her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, careful not to choke him. “What now?”

  “There’s not enough room to flatten ourselves to the sides, above, or below. So we might as well catch a ride.” He turned and faced the oncoming mag car, a silver streak, growing larger by the second.

  The mag car’s roar rushed into their ears. The blast of air buffeted him.

  “Stars,” she swore. “That’s your brilliant plan. You’re going to jump on?”

  “Yes.” The mag car appeared to be maintaining a constant speed, making his calculations a bit easier. Equations balanced in his head, matching his internal clock. He tensed his muscles, readied his psi.

  “You’re going to get us both killed.”

  “Hang on.” Kirek stood, knowing the timing would be critical. With his partially healed psi, he could still manage null grav. The tricky part would be timing his wild vault against the front of the vehicle while keeping his shields tight enough to prevent the deadly force from striking them—all while finding and maintaining a grip.

  “You’re insane.”

  His heart pounded. “That’s why you love me.”

  “I don’t—”

  As if they could get out of the way, the mag car’s automatic warning system’s siren blasted and cut off Angel’s words—words he didn’t need to hear. He knew she didn’t love him, but if he got her killed, she might not even live long enough to yell at him, nevermind fall for him.

  For Kirek, time slowed, stretched. The shrieking mag car seemed to alter its velocity, but in reality, his perception changed, allowing him to time the jump with computer accuracy. One moment they stood on the electromagnetic car tracks, the next, he used his psi and muscle to jump up and angle forward.

  He slammed the psi shield up, preventing them from splatting like bugs on a skimmer’s windshield, then spread his arms, praying he’d find a handle, an edge of metal, anything to cling to.

  But the metal was sleek, slippery. He could only hold them with null grav for so long before he fell. He poured on more psi, his brain cells burning.

  “Lower us four inches,” Angel shouted into his ear, her voice tearing against the wind.

  His psi already weakened, he did as she asked. His fingers found no handhold, but his toes levered onto a perch of protruding bumper. It wasn’t enough. His psi drained quickly.

  Angel used her own, picking up the slack as he weakened. His legs strained, his toes ached. His lungs gasped, and he gulped in huge breaths.

  “Hold on.” He felt Angel turning her head. “There’s a station up ahead.”

  Kirek didn’t have the spare energy to nod. Or speak. He focused every psi cell on maintaining his precarious balance, not easy as the string of cars decelerated. He had to match his null grav and maintain focus on his abused toes. Sweat trickled under his arms and down his chest, his suit unable to keep up with his body’s efforts.

  When the cars finally stopped, Angel leaped off his back and had to pry him down. His toes were cramped and frozen. But she forced him to exit with the crowd, giving him no time to recover. If she was trying to kill him, she was succeeding, but he focused on putting one cramped foot in front of the other and couldn’t spare the breath to complain.

  The terminal was like any on a hundred worlds, long, shimmering gray corridors filled with crowds and botcops. Vendors sold snacks, meals, and drinks. Just as one botcop headed their way, Angel yanked Kirek around a corner and into a diner, found a booth near the back by an exit, and shoved him into it.

  He collapsed, knowing he couldn’t have gone another five steps. His pulse rate had yet to recover, and his legs still shook. But even though his mind had yet to return to proper functionality, he sensed that his psi had strengthened again before he’d drained it, and hopefully, he hadn’t done any more damage. But he alone hadn’t held them in null grav for so long. Angel had helped—a lot, and once again he wondered just how powerful her psi truly was.

  Without asking what he wanted, Angel ordered from the materializer. Food and drink appeared instantly.

  Kirek realized he was starving. He couldn’t recall the last time they’d eaten. He’d used a tremendous amount of energy to prevent them from dying in front of that oncoming vehicle, and his body demanded food as if every cell required refueling.

  Kirek downed an entire packet of water then ordered another before touching his food. While he ate, Angel pulled up their table’s vidscreen and turned on the news. Dakmar only had twenty channels—and half of them were focused on the school. As they stopped on one, an announcer stated that fugitives were inside the building and that botcops expected to apprehend the suspects for the deaths at the Lay Down Easy within moments.

  The perimeter was tight with troops. The Kraj had either paid off the officials or pulled all sorts of behind-the-scenes strings to find them.

  Kirek swallowed his food, his mind recovering from their ordeal. “So you were correct. If we’d tried to walk out the front doors, they’d have shot us.”

  “I’ve always had this sense of anticipating trouble. Mom used to say that trouble found me … but I have a knack for getting out of it.”

  “I’m glad.” When he placed his hand over hers and squeezed, the hardness in her eyes softened.

  Angel had spoken as if her ability had been a source of difficulty between her and her mother. But her special psi sense had saved them, and he thought it useful, wonderful.

  He was about to say more when their images suddenly flashed on the vidscreen. The botcops had pulled their likenesses off the vidrecorders in the Lay Down Easy. Someone had altered the recording to make it appear as if he and Angel had drawn weapons, killed his contact, and then e
veryone else in the bar who’d tried to stop them. They were accused of a dozen crimes, from stealing a skimmer to murder.

  Angel snapped off the vidscreen. “We need to return to the Raven.”

  “She should be done by now. Let’s hope they haven’t confiscated her.”

  “I’ll check.”

  Kirek stopped her. “Now that we’re fugitives from the law, the authorities may have a reverse trace on all transmissions to and from your ship. It’ll be difficult enough sneaking back without letting them know from which direction we’re coming.”

  Angel slid deeper into their booth then adjusted her suit to form a hood to cover her blond hair. She also added padding around her middle. She changed her suit to match a maintenance worker’s dull tan. Following up on her idea, Kirek did the same. However, his height and the width of his shoulders tended to get noticed, no matter what he wore.

  “You done?” Angel asked. She hadn’t touched her food but had sipped some water.

  Despite the quantity of food he’d eaten, he was far from full, but they could delay no longer. He ordered a sandwich and another drink to take with him and planned to eat on the run. “All right, keep your head down, shuffle, and hunch your shoulders.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Turn your face away from the street vidrecorders.”

  AN HOUR LATER after walking through the city with surprising ease, they’d arrived to find the Kraj and botcops watching her ship and locks on the landing gear to prevent takeoff. Kirek had cleverly rerouted a smelly sanitation offloader to secretly bring them aboard. The ride hadn’t been pleasant, but their suits had filtered the terrible smell and shielded them from the filth. Angel had never been so glad to be back home.

  Lion spotted her where he’d been exploring in the ship’s belly. He hissed at Kirek then leapt into her arms. She hugged her cat, and he placed two feet against her chest, sniffed her neck, welcomed her with a lick, then began to purr. She petted him, and he settled into the crook of her arm. Normally she didn’t bring him onto the bridge, but she couldn’t bear to put him down so soon and kept him with her.

 

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