Shamara (25 page)

It took every ounce of control Jarek had to keep from charging forward and shooting the bastard. But getting himself killed wouldn't help Eirene. Drawing his weapon, he edged sideways to get a better look. None of the beings milling around seemed to care about the drama unfolding.

"You're safe for now, girl, until we find that cursed healer," the man said. "Three hours in that crude hut of his! I can finish waiting on my own ship."

Jarek studied the man. He looked vaguely familiar, but Jarek couldn't place him. One of Turlock's men?

Eirene pushed her tangled hair back from her face with a trembling hand. Jarek's gut clenched. She looked terrified, but there was nothing he could do to help her—yet. He was outnumbered, in a crowded area, where the firepower from six sets of weapons could injure a large number of innocent people and get her killed. He dropped back a few paces so Turlock's men wouldn't spot him.

"But when that healer shows up, and Gunnar gets here, we'll know the truth," the man continued. "If you're no longer innocent, you'll be sorry you're still alive. Very sorry. Get going."

He shoved her hard, and she stumbled, almost falling again. Jarek clenched his gun until the metal bit into his palm. He had to stay calm and focused. The man was most likely Eirene's father, or some other relative, probably the one who had made the trade with the Leors. But what was his connection with Turlock?

"Balen," the man barked out. "The healer's woman told us he likes to hang out at Solaris. Get over there and keep a watch out for him."

"But Vaden, I don't know what he looks like," Balen protested.

"You son of an Antek!" the man called Vaden roared. "Ask someone. The bartender will know who he is. Don't come back without Healer Drake. I'll use you for disrupter practice if you do."

Balen's florid skin paled a few shades, and he turned and stumbled back toward the square. Jarek hastily ducked away as Balen passed him, the reek of cheap liquor lingering in his wake.

Jarek followed the group ahead of him at a safe distance, barely suppressing his rage as Vaden taunted and shoved Eirene. He would pay for his treatment of her.

They entered a landing bay, and Jarek was forced to weave between ships to avoid discovery. He crept along on a parallel course with the group, until they entered a ship. The hatch closed behind them with a foreboding thud.

Stepping into the open, he studied the ship. It was a star-class runner, the sort of ship a private supplier or smuggler might use. Sleek, fast, well armored. It also had a sophisticated, high-security hatch. Radd could handle the hatch.

Jarek battled the urge to find some heavy-duty explosives and blast the hatch open and get Eirene out of there. He could well imagine what the vicious Vaden might be doing to her. But forcing the hatch would alert the men within, and he'd be entering a death trap. He couldn't do a damn thing about it until Sabin and the others got there.

He tried to tell himself that Vaden wouldn't kill or maim Eirene as long as he thought she might still be a virgin, and thus a tradable commodity. However, once he found out the truth…Refusing to consider the worst scenario, Jarek realized what he could do to keep her safe and alive until help arrived.

He could eliminate one of Turlock's men—permanently. And he could make damn sure a certain healer was put out of commission for the time being. There was no telling if the Leor had been contacted, or when he would arrive. Or when Turlock might show up. Jarek could only hope it wouldn't be for at least another cycle.

He glanced at the ship one more time.
Don't give up, Eirene,
he channeled, hoping she could pick up his broadcast.
I'll get you of there. I promise.

He headed for Solaris to take care of Balen and Healer Drake.

*  *  * 

Eirene sat beside her uncle in his meeting chamber, one wrist shackled to the chair arm. Webb, Derian, and Keraat sat around the massive table, along with Stane, Vaden's personal lackey. The men were drinking Elysian liquor—a lot of it—while they waited for Balen to return with the healer.

Vaden had always been a surly drunk, and his mood grew fouler with every drink he took. He held an electrolyzer rod in his left hand, and he shocked Eirene from time to time, just for his own enjoyment. She bit her lips until they bled, refusing give him satisfaction by crying out.

She was exhausted, mentally and physically, her body battered from Vaden's cruel physical torments. It took great effort for her to remain upright in her chair, when she wanted to collapse into a heap. She had difficulty thinking clearly, stunned by all that had transpired. But she tried to force herself to stay alert, to come up with a plan to help herself.

Turlock's men watched her with a mixture of lust and wariness. She eyed them coolly, refusing to let them see her fear. As she looked at Derian, he drew back in alarm.

"Don't let her give me the evil eye!" he screeched. "Remember what she did to me earlier? She cast a spell that set my balls to burning."

The other men laughed raucously. "Superstitious son of an Antek, ain't he?" Webb snorted. Rubbing his scratched face, he leered at Eirene, an evil glint in his watery eyes. "But she's a wild kerani all right. If she doesn't go to the Leor, I want a chance at retribution for what she did to my face."

Keraat downed his drink. "Hey, maybe Derian is right," he said, his words slurred. "My chest hurt when I tried to touch her. Maybe she's got magic, like one of them Shens."

"She's just a simple female," Vaden scoffed. "Worthless to me if Gunnar doesn't want her." He thrust the electrolyzer rod against Eirene's leg, giving her a nasty jolt.

She gasped, digging her fingers into the chair arms, as agony singed every nerve ending in her body. She wouldn't cry out, she wouldn't. But the shocks were weakening her badly. If Vaden decided to use the rod again, she feared she would pass out.

"See?" her uncle crowed with a mocking smile. "She's no sorceress. I've known her all of her twenty-six seasons. She's weak and worthless."

Eirene sagged back as the agony receded somewhat. Maybe she should have used her powers while she had the chance. Yet, as inept as she was, she couldn't have controlled five men, then gotten away. They were already suspicious of her, at least Derian and Keraat were. If the others ever suspected the truth…

The image of the young male Enhancer's face flashed into her mind, and she shuddered. No. Virtually any fate was preferable to being sold into slavery and forced to use her powers for evil gain.

Soon Balen would return with Healer Drake, and the pretense would be over. What then? She closed her eyes, seeking refuge from the terrifying probabilities. She thought of Jarek. Where was he now? Would he think she’d fled from him? How ironic, since she’d committed fully to helping any way possible, although she couldn’t have done much.

At least she and Jarek had shared some wonderful intimacies. She held on to those memories, and to the ones of Rayna, reliving them, savoring them one last time.

"Keraat!" her uncle bellowed, startling her from her reverie. "It's been hours since Balen went to Solaris. Go see what's keeping the slimy bastard. And don't either of you come back without the healer."

With a grunt, Keraat heaved to his feet, hitching up his pants, and moved unsteadily to the panel. Vaden watched him go, shaking his head in disgust. "Idiots. Blathering idiots, all of 'em."

His attention fixed on Eirene. "Especially you, girl. You thought you could run away, and I'd never find you. No female has ever made a fool of me. You'll get yours. Balen and Keraat will be back any time with that damn healer, and we'll know the truth for sure, won't we?"

They'd know all right,
she thought, despair returning. She wondered what it was like to die.

A fist pounding on the table startled Eirene from her restless dozing. "Webb, Derian, wake up!" Vaden roared. He heaved to his feet, apparently just awakening himself. He kicked Stane, who was slumped over the table to his right.

Groaning, Webb, Derian, and Stane raised their heads from the table, and stared at Vaden. "Get up!" he ordered. Swiping a beefy hand across his bleary eyes, he looked at his chronometer. "Keraat's been gone fourteen hours. Where in the Abyss is he? And Balen—where's that son of an Antek? Get up, all of you."

The three men stumbled to their feet. "We'll have to take care of the matter ourselves," Vaden growled. He turned toward Eirene. "I know you'll be eager for our return," he sneered. "In the meantime, some shackles on your legs ought to ensure you can't get away. Stane, get another set."

Eirene, hold on.
Jarek's voice suddenly sounded inside her head with startling clarity.

She looked around the chamber. Nothing but the wretched, leering faces of Vaden and the others. She must have imagined hearing Jarek, just as she'd thought she heard him some hours ago, promising to free her. Desperate wishes, when her time had almost run out. Stane moved around the table, toward the entry panel.

Radd's almost got the hatch open,
Jarek's voice came again.

It wasn't possible! Surely he wasn't telepathically communicating with her.

We're getting you out of there.

S
he halfway bolted from the chair, but the shackle halted her reaction with a vicious shock. She fell back, momentarily stunned.

"What, getting scared, girl?" Vaden taunted. "Your Leor master is on his way, should be here in a few hours. I expect you're getting nervous."

A series of tones sounded in the chamber. "Ah, that must be Balen and Keraat," Vaden turned away. "They'd better have Healer Drake along if they know what's good for them."

Stane opened the panel and stepped into the corridor. Immediately, shots rang out. Stane crumpled to the ground. Jarek and Sabin barreled into the chamber, weapons raised.

Webb and Derian fumbled for their guns but were too slow. Several quick blasts sent them sprawling. Jarek and Sabin swung toward Vaden and Eirene.

"Drop your weapons or she dies," Vaden snarled. During the shooting, He had slipped behind Eirene and pressed a weapon against her head.

Jarek and Sabin both paused, and Vaden's grip on her shoulder tightened painfully. Metal gouged her scalp. "This is a disrupter, at the highest setting," Vaden said. "She'll die a slow, agonizing death. And I'll still have a good shot at both of you, with her body for a shield."

Jarek threw down his weapon. Scowling, Sabin did the same. Eirene stared at Jarek, drinking in the sight of him. As glad as she was to see him, she was horrified she'd drawn him into danger. He stared back, his gaze roaming over her.

"No woman is worth a man's life," Vaden sneered. "I'll wager one of you is san Ranul."

Jarek stepped forward. Fury sparked in his eyes, but his tone was neutral when he spoke. "I'm san Ranul. Take me instead of Eirene. I'm wanted by the Controllers. I'm worth a lot more to you than she is."

"As if you're in a position to bargain," Vaden scoffed. "I don't make deals with any man stupid enough to put his life on the line for a mere female."

Ducking more securely behind Eirene, he shifted his weapon from her to Jarek. "Wait," Sabin said quickly. "The Controllers want san Ranul alive. They'll pay a lot more for him if he's turned in alive."

Vaden shifted the weapon toward Sabin. "That so? Well, I happen to know there's a reward even if san Ranul is dead. Not that it matters to me which one of you I kill first." He slowly swung the disrupter back and forth between them. "You, or you? Which one first…"

Eirene's heart pounded, and the lack of oxygen in her chest left her lightheaded. This horrible nightmare couldn't be happening. Vaden fixed his aim on Jarek. "You're the one who helped Eirene evade me. You can go to hell first."

No!
Without conscious thought, she sent a surge of energy into the weapon, sparking the power source inside it. The disrupter exploded in Vaden's hand, and he screamed in pain. She pivoted her chair around and kicked him backward.

Jarek was on him in an instant, pounding him in a frenzy of fists. Vaden fought back, but Jarek had the upper hand. Eirene watched, aghast, as he delivered one punishing blow after another to her uncle. She cringed with every bone-crunching thud. She'd never seen him this furious or savage. Never considered the people he might have killed in the line of duty to the Shielders.

"Stop!" she screamed. She held no fondness for her uncle, but he was her only family. She didn't want to see anyone die, and this glimpse of Jarek's violent side horrified her.

Her chair was suddenly spun around, and she faced Sabin. "I've got to get you out of here." He slapped sequencers on the shackles on her arm and legs. "It might take a few moments to find the sequences."

The sound of fists and grunts of pain came from behind, tearing at her. "Jarek's killing him," she gasped.

Sabin shrugged. "Nothing less than the bastard deserves."

"Please stop him!"

"Relative of yours?"

How she could be a blood relation to someone like Vaden galled her, but she couldn't deny it. "Yes."

Sabin rolled his eyes. "Hey, san Ranul. San Ranul. Jarek!" He yelled the last word, but couldn't get Jarek's attention. He moved around her and forcibly yanked Jarek off her uncle. "Don't kill the bastard. He's a relation of Eirene's."

"Son of an Antek," Jarek swore, wrenching away and getting to his feet.

Vaden groaned. He started to get up, but collapsed on the floor, his face a bloody pulp. Horrified, Eirene couldn't bring herself to look away.

One sequencer clicked, and the shackles on her legs opened and fell to the floor. A moment later, the second sequencer released her arm shackle. Then Jarek was lifting her into his arms. "Let's get out of here."

She was so weak, she could barely hold on to him, but he felt solid, safe. Yet she couldn't leave without knowing about Vaden. She twisted, trying to see her uncle. "Will he live?"

"Most likely. I didn't stop to think you might have feelings for this—for him. I guess I lost it, after seeing how he had treated you." Jarek carried her toward the panel. "Is he your father?"