Shiver (4 page)

The gold-toothed man’s vague directions helped and it didn’t take Knox long to reach the small town of Grit. There were no signs to mark the spot but after the miles of desolation he’d traversed, this had to be it.

The town turned out to be nothing more than a handful of buildings dominated by a bar that was buzzing with activity. He could hear a heady mix of jazz and blues rolling out from behind the swinging doors. The simple sign above the door advertised the word
Mike’s
in red paint, and confirmed he’d reached the right spot.

As soon as he entered
Mike’s
, the commotion prickled his skin so much it induced an instant headache, making him pause just inside the door.

He was here for one thing—to find a way off this rock—and no amount of throbbing inside his skull was going to deter him. He lost himself in the crowd, listening to the sweet voice of the pretty singer onstage. He tried to catch snatches of the conversations going on around him while pretending the intoxicating aroma of blood wasn’t making his stomach growl. But the constant drumming was so loud and contained so many different beats he could no longer pretend it wasn’t the symphony of heartbeats.

No one spoke of ships or transports, just exchanged animated chatter about the destruction of the arena. A lot of them still toasted the downfall of a tyrant. Rumors and innuendo about what really happened and who was responsible were the most discussed topics, but no one seemed to know for sure. When he approached the bar, the man behind it narrowed his eyes.

“Can I help you, son?” The bartender was slim, his hair long and graying at the sideburns, blending in with his beard. He was dressed like a cowboy, and his shirt was stained with splotches of alcohol.

Pain erupted through his skull, but Knox managed to say, “I’m looking for someone called Mike.”

“Then it looks like you found him.” Mike leaned one hand on the counter between them, the other one tucked beneath while ignoring the other patrons. “What do you want?”

Knox pushed the barstool out of his way. “Someone at the market suggested you were the man to speak to about finding a ship to get off this planet.” The pain inside his head intensified but he kept his cool, grinding his teeth together just so he could concentrate on something else.

Mike’s brow furrowed. “We don’t have any ports around here—”

“Okay, thanks for nothin’.” Disappointed and sick of hearing the same crap over and over, Knox pushed off the bar. What was it going to take to get off this fucking planet? Escaping the arena should’ve been the hardest thing. Now there seemed to be one obstacle after another, when all he wanted was to get as far away from Fray as he could.

“Hold up a second, son.” Mike narrowed his eyes and glared at Knox. “I didn’t say I couldn’t help.”

“Well, can you?” He was starting to feel ill, close to passing out. Yet, keeping his gaze on the man somehow helped soothe his mind. It could be his imagination, but he suddenly felt as if a calming wind stirred inside his brain—pushing aside the reek of blood, the erratic sounds of heartbeats and his constant anger at being stuck.

Mike poured a beer and placed it in front of him.

“I don’t have any credits.”

“It’s on the house. You look like you could use a drink,” Mike said. “
You also need to calm down and control all of those fitful thoughts, or you’re going to drive yourself crazy.”

Knox frowned, staring at the bartender. There was no way he’d just heard the man’s voice inside his head.
I’m going batshit insane.

“You have no idea how true that is.” Knox took a sip of the offered beer. It slid down his throat too quickly and cold, all the way to his empty stomach. Though, it did help wash away the sour taste of dirt and blood at the back of his throat. “Cheers!”

“Now, about getting off this planet… You’ll find a small ship on the outskirts of Grit. It’s been abandoned for several days and I was about to take it to the market, but it looks like you need it more than I do.” Mike watched him a little too closely, as if he were hearing something no one else could.

The offer seemed too good to be true. “You give me a free drink
and
access to a ship. What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch.”

Knox cocked an eyebrow. “There’s always a catch.”

“Okay, you’re right. There
is
something.” Mike leaned even closer, as if he were about to tell him a secret. “You give me that antidote you’re carrying, and we’ll call it even.”

He shook his head. “Sorry, mate, can’t do.” The people on this planet were freaking him out. Just like the old woman, this guy knew things before they were spoken. Was he some kind of mind reader?
 

“A friend of mine really needs it.”

“Sorry to hear that, but I plan to give it to someone.” Knox thought of the wild man getting stabbed by the Thropod’s pincer, and how he hadn’t been able to help him. Thropod poison was a slow and very painful way to die. If the Recast had made it out of the arena alive, surely he’d be at a place like this to celebrate his survival. It seemed farfetched to think he’d wind up here, but it didn’t hurt to be hopeful sometimes.

“I think we may have the same man in mind.” A smirk spread over Mike’s mouth and he pointed. “That’s Ace over there.”

Knox looked over his shoulder and spotted a familiar face. “What the hell? How did you know?” He turned back to Mike.

The man tapped two fingers against his temple and winked. “Nothing gets past me. Now, go. Give the antidote to Ace and be on your way. The ship awaits you.”

“Thanks.”

“And be careful out there!”

Knox headed toward the Recast who’d saved his life, pushing past the throng of people intensifying his craving. At least after looking into the bartender’s eyes, the drumbeats had subsided and for some reason, he felt a lot calmer.

For the first time since he’d woken up inside the stable, he realized something good
was
going to come out of all this. Blood craving or not, he was looking forward to starting a new life.

When Knox sidled up to the shaggy-haired Ace, he scanned the thick swell of the bandage beneath one of the Recast’s thighs. There was another one on his shoulder. The guy didn’t look so good.
 

“Hey, buddy, I got something for ya.”
 

Chapter Two

“You love to travel, don’t you, dear?”

Lian Shan nodded and managed a saccharine smile just like she did whenever her mother attempted to get her involved in the boring conversation going on around the dinner table. She was half-listening and had more important things to think about—starting with how to keep her distance from the latest
potential husband
,
who was already sitting too close.

“Yeah.” Lian coughed. “I
love
to travel.” Thanks to her mother, Meiling—the matriarch of the Shan Estate—she didn’t leave the house.
Ever.

“I would take you wherever your heart desires, my lovely bride,” Sergei Orloff cooed, leaning so close the metallic piercings on his face shimmered. “Anywhere…”

No thanks.

Lian cringed at the thought of being left alone with this creep.

Meiling was nowhere near sealing this deal but Sergei’s enthusiasm made her beam with excitement. Her mother carried on with these very public charades in the hopes of impressing the foolish, wealthy men she constantly welcomed and tried to entice her daughter with.

As much as Lian wanted to leave this house, she didn’t want to do it by marrying a stranger. Meiling had spent the last year hosting countless politicians and wealthy men of all shapes and colors, but Lian barely paid attention. Her mother didn’t care about anything but the potential dowry and the social status she wanted to bestow on her family.

The Shans were a successful fishing family in the northern hemisphere of Fray, near the heavily populated town of Shiver. But that wasn’t enough for Meiling—she desired more power and influence, while carrying on a side business sick enough to turn her own daughter against her.

Lian leaned away from Sergei, but he closed the distance again. They now sat so close their elbows touched.

Meiling’s dark eyes were glossy with approval. “So, Sergei, what business endeavors are you involved in at the moment?”

Their guest opened his pierced mouth and happily launched into a story about trading silver, as well as priceless figurines. Lian knew exactly what this bastard really trafficked —a trade he shared with her mother.

Lian hoped to ruin both of their plans tonight. First, by refusing to marry this idiot, and second, by making sure Sergei and her mother did not successfully complete their business transaction.

Sergei’s hand pressed against her thigh. Lian squirmed but he didn’t budge. When he sneaked his fingers beneath the flimsy fabric of the stupid dress her mother had made her wear, she pushed her chair back and stood. The screech echoed across the room and Sergei’s bodyguard flinched.

“Lian, what’s wrong?” Meiling asked, cocking a thin eyebrow in warning.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”
 

“Ladies ask to be excused, dear.”

She ignored her mother and offered Sergei a fake smile that hurt her cheeks, even if she was glad he appeared put out by her directness. She enjoyed using the bathroom line on most of her suitors and Meiling always corrected her. He didn’t smile, but gave her a predatory wink, making the metal piercings on his face and ears twinkle under the chandelier. She couldn’t believe her mother’s standards had sunk to such an all-time low that she’d fix her up with this slime ball. “
Excuse me.
”

Without another glance, she stepped away from the long table occupied by her mother, Sergei, and his personal guard, and disappeared into the cold corridor. She never understood why Meiling chose to heat only the rooms and not the entire house. It seemed like a form of punishment to those who spent most of their time guarding or maintaining this mansion.

Lian had always hated the callous domination her mother used on the household staff. One day, she would release them from the confines of this icy estate.

She sighed, marching as fast as she could in the opposite direction of the bathroom and descending the many stairs leading to the cellar. Or rather, the prisoner cells, where she was going to meet her accomplice.

As she rounded the corner, she found Vera already waiting for her. Vera was one of the guards, but she meant the world to Lian. She was dressed in a drab uniform and wore a restrictive silver collar with a tiny, flashing green light, which marked her as Meiling’s property.

“Sorry I’m late. It was hard to find a break in their useless conversation.” In any other part of the estate, some sort of surveillance device would catch them out, but not here. This part of the house was her mother’s secret place—lined with three cells on each side, and one at the end. She would never risk any footage getting into the wrong hands.

Vera’s uneasy smile made the wrinkles stand out on her pretty, olive-skinned face. She ran a hand through her short, dark hair and said, “You’re here now, that’s what’s important.”

Lian nodded and raised her left index finger, which doubled as an access key. Thanks to Mya—her personal processor and connection to the system Network—she’d learned how to override most locking mechanisms in the house. Something only her mother could do, and certainly didn’t know Lian had hacked.

Until last year, Lian hadn’t known anyone was being dumped here. One night, she couldn’t sleep and decided to go for a walk through the house. She ended up on this floor and heard someone crying. She’d gone to Vera right away, and together discovered Meiling Shan’s dirty secret. That was when they decided to sabotage her mother’s plans and formulated a system.

During the last six months, whenever someone was dumped in any of these cells, Mya alerted her. There might not be any surveillance circuits in this part of the cellar, but that didn’t stop the processor from getting past restricting access within the Network—like the actual lock panels.

Lian took pride in helping the prisoners escape, but her heart ached for the ones they had to forsake in order to keep her mother’s suspicions contained. Lian didn’t like it, but she figured if Meiling still had access to some prisoners and could actually continue her trade, she wouldn’t conduct a proper investigation. She might even chalk it up to an accounting error.

Her mother somehow got her hands on random girls and boys from who-knew-where and sold them to one of her many contacts. So far, Meiling didn’t know who was cutting into her slave trade or where the leak was, but Lian figured Meiling probably cared more about the credits she gained rather than those she lost. Then again, her mother could just be biding her time.

“Let’s get them out of here,” Vera said. “Hogan should have the transport waiting for us soon.”

The mention of Hogan made Lian’s stomach tighten. There was a time when the mere thought of the guard caused her heart to tumble madly inside her chest because she couldn’t wait to see him. But now, it just left her confused. Aside from the times when they busted these prisoners out, they didn’t see each other.
 

Since the dreams had started there’d only been one man on her mind. Someone she’d never met. Yet, he visited her every night, filling her with hope.