Shiver (7 page)

Lian didn’t respond. A small grin spread over her lips as soon as the door slid shut behind her. She couldn’t help but feel smug about why her mother’s lecture was cut short. She’d caught sight of the message, which read—
the girls are gone again
.

She raced to the window and hit the zoom button to magnify the window further, until she spotted the crashed ship in the distance.
It really happened.

As Lian passed the bed in her haste to reach the door so she could rush out, her vision curled at the edges. She fell back onto the mattress moments before passing out.

Chapter Three

Knox’s borrowed boots kicked plumes of dust around him as he ran.

He couldn’t believe Mike’s directions had
actually
led to a ship. For a while there, he’d thought the man had been toying with him. But nope, there it was—ready for the taking.

This had to be karma for repaying his debt to the Recast.

Like an eager fool, he rushed inside and into the middle of a very small cockpit. If he stretched his arms, he could touch the plastic walls on either side. He could also inspect every nook and cranny because there wasn’t much to see. It contained two narrow vinyl seats—the pilot and passenger. The back of the ship was stacked with six shelved metal cots, all with leather straps. What kind of craft was this, some sort of prisoner transport? He doubted it. He hadn’t seen any official emblems on the exterior.

Right now, he didn’t give a shit about who owned it or what they used it for.

“Bloody hell, this is perfect.” After so much crap, he deserved a break.

He reached for the door, shut it and plopped into the pilot’s seat.

Knox took a few moments to examine the dashboard. It reflected the size and quality of the ship in its simplicity. The dash—like the walls—was mostly plastic and displayed a handful of colorful buttons. It certainly wouldn’t take a genius to pilot this piece of junk, and he’d had plenty of practice. The multihued panels lit after one press of a green button.

The screen displayed the navigational map, pinpointing his location in the southern hemisphere of Fray, near the small town of Grit. The monitor beside it had an attached keyboard, which he assumed was for communication. But neither helped with what he wanted to do first—slide open the shuttered window. After some fiddling, the shield lifted with a rigid, metallic screech that didn’t sound healthy. This might be a cramped rust-bucket, but if it got him off this planet he wouldn’t complain.

Knox glared at the desolate, sandy horizon illuminated around him, determined—he hoped—never to return. He wanted to put as much distance as he could between him and the arena, the cryptic woman at the market, even the bartender who seemed to read his mind. Or at least got into his head.

There was only one thing he couldn’t put behind him. He was becoming something that craved blood and lived in the darkness. No, those were thoughts for another time.

He strapped himself in, took a few deep breaths, and started the engine.

Knox managed to keep the ship under control long enough to maneuver it into the sky, even if it was a bumpy ride. The radio on the dash was switched on, but there was only static.

“Here we go.”

With the engine pulsating beneath him, he wrapped his right hand around the steering lever and pulled back, gaining height as he did. It didn’t take long to climb high enough to make the dirt below became nothing more than a flat, brown landscape.

Speed was his main priority, so he didn’t care how much he pushed this cheap piece of crap. But he did want to get a feel of the controls before leaving this world. According to the fuel gauge, the tank was almost full so he’d at least get to the closest planet or moon, and then reassess how to complete his journey home.

His pounding heart calmed as he coaxed the ship over the rugged terrain and eventually found himself flying above a choppy, blue sea. So the rumors of the ocean at the end of the desert were true. He’d doubted the dungeon prisoners who’d claimed it existed.

The sea didn’t go for long before green filled his vision and quickly blended into white, icy land. Thick clouds surrounded him, and as he tried to maneuver above them, the first buzz of communication blared from the radio.

“Keith, you were supposed to ask for clearance before breaching the perimeter. How many times have I told you about procedure?” a male voice yelled. “And why the hell are you so late? She’s been waiting for days.”

Shit!
What the hell was he going to do now? The person on the radio obviously knew whoever usually piloted this ship.

“Keith, did you hear me? The bots were getting ready to shoot you down.”

Knox pressed his index finger to the speaker and said, “Sure, I hear you.”

Static crackled between them for a moment. Had the man realized he wasn’t Keith?

He’d gained enough altitude to be lost in the thick cloud cover. The biggest problem now was the mountainous terrain, which stuck out between the clouds, and required intense concentration to maneuver between.

“Is that you, Garth?”

“Yeah, sure…it’s me, mate.”

Another bout of static followed.

Knox eased back into the pilot seat and yanked the lever toward his chest, until he’d successfully pointed the nose of the ship in the direction of freedom. He pushed the piece of junk to the highest speed, causing it to shake so much he held his breath when flames licked at the exterior. The ship was close to leaving the atmosphere and the higher he went, the more his unease melted.

When he was about to sigh in relief, something hit the back of the ship—hard enough to make it rock sideways, and plummet.

No, no, no.
He
needed to go up, not down.

The dashboard lit with red warning signs he didn’t have time to address, and the automatic pilot kicked in. He released the stick. There was nothing he could do now, so Knox pressed the back of his head against the seat and prepared to let fate run its course.

Turbulence tugged at his stomach so badly he thought he might throw up, but he gritted his teeth and kept it together as the craft spiraled out of control.

When the ship hit the ground, the air was ripped from his lungs and blood pumped through his body too fast. He felt like a deflated balloon. Yet, even feeling boneless, he managed to yank off the harness and crawl out of the burning wreck.

He moved one elbow in front of the other, dragging himself over the snow. It cooled his limbs and actually helped numb his aching body. He couldn’t feel his right leg and something was digging deep into his gut, scraping along the snow with his every move. He refused to look down or stop. Better to hold on to denial for a little longer.

Sucking in several painful gulps of air, he could hear a wheezing sound and agony tore through him. Had he broken some ribs or punctured a lung? Every time he inhaled, a sharp pain shot through him.

He closed his eyes, trying to breathe deep enough to keep the lightheadedness at bay. He didn’t want to pass out so close to the wreckage, where whoever had shot him down could find him.

Knox used all the strength he could summon to crawl farther, before getting to his knees. Whatever had punctured his midsection dug deeper, and he hadn’t helped by wriggling on his stomach. He might not want to see the extent of the damage, but couldn’t avoid it any longer.

He looked down at his wounds and his vision wavered. Even with the harness wound tightly around his torso, the impact had driven half of the steering stick into his gut. His knee, torn open to the bone, throbbed. Kneeling wasn’t helping but what else could he do? If he lay on his back, he probably wouldn’t get up again. And he didn’t have enough strength to get to his feet.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He spat blood on the white snow and it looked obscene. His head spun, so he waited for the nausea to pass.

Knox ignored the wreckage strewn around him—the shattered pieces still burning, random sparks, and even the falling snow.

He sucked in quick, shallow gasps. With the end of the lever jammed in so tight he thought of pulling it out, but that would probably make the injury worse. He stopped his barrage of thoughts long enough to grip the stick and yank it free.

A scream tore out from his mouth, echoing into the quiet night. Dark blood gushed from the gaping round hole, exposing his innards. The broken stick slid from his shaky, bloody fingers as he pulled the sleeveless shirt over his head to press it hard against the open wound.

His gut twisted, causing his whole body to spasm.

Hunger pains tore through his stomach as he smelled the people approaching before hearing their snowmobiles. His nostrils flared and he raised his face into the night as the familiar metallic scent filled him with a craving that almost drowned his brain. He could sniff the blood gushing through their bodies, pumping hard and fast into three beating hearts.

Fuck.
That’s exactly what Amon had done to him in the middle of the arena, sniffed him like some sort of beast. He was already turning into the same monster.

Knox closed his eyes, hoping the sweet tang of blood, coupled with the captivating sound of the approaching hearts would fade. The words the old woman at the market had spoken filled his mind.

“The parasitic nature will soon overcome you. When the first drop of fresh blood hits your stomach and spreads throughout your body, the change will begin.”

“Hey, there’s a guy over here!” someone yelled.

“Is he alive?”

The vibrations of vehicles were replaced by thumping footsteps and a cacophony of drumbeats.

“I’m not sure. Let me take a closer look—”

Knox’s eyes snapped open as he reached out to grab the person closest to him. The man wore a thick coat but had pushed down the hood, exposing his throat. Knox capitalized on the man’s error and held him tight. His new fangs, already extended, instantly punctured the man’s skin just above a metal collar that circled his neck.

“What the hell’s he doing?” one of the other men called.

“I don’t know, stop him!”

“Are you kidding me? I ain’t touching him!”

Knox ignored them. It would be their turn soon enough. With the way hunger churned his stomach, he wasn’t done yet.

The man screamed, thrashing against him, but Knox wouldn’t let go. He gulped the blood pouring into his mouth as though it was gushing directly from a tap, and he relished every drop. The more blood he swallowed, the better he felt. His body warmed from the inside out, calming him in the same way the bartender had done with his eyes.

You’re a bloodthirsty monster now, Knox.

The thought didn’t stop him. Nothing would, because with every swallow his injuries were mending. He continued to suck down the delicious liquid until the man in his arms was ripped away from his grasp, forcing him to tear a chunk of flesh between his teeth.

He spat the flesh out. “No!” he growled, sounding more monster than man.

“You fuckin’ freak!” said a voice behind him.

Knox observed his other targets. He’d almost forgotten about them, but was now poised to pounce.

“The asshole tried to eat Moe.” A different hooded man dragged the motionless, bleeding one out of reach.

“Get him!”

A primal scream tore from his throat.

Knox didn’t get a chance to attack because something struck him on the side of the head. He hit the snow and as he tried to lift his chest off the ground noticed a beautiful woman in the distance. She stood on a snowy peak, her ebony hair and white dress swaying in the arctic breeze, as her blue eyes stared deep into his.

Another hit to the back of his head made him collapse. Before blackness filled his vision he wondered,
Is she the angel of death?
He’d never seen anyone more beautiful, but he hoped she would help carry him into the afterlife.

Moonlight bathed Lian’s body and illuminated the scene a few feet in front of her. She stood amongst the embers of a dying crash site as a cold wind stirred the long strands of her hair across her face and caused goose bumps to spread along her exposed skin. Her thin dress floated around her.

She couldn’t look away, but it wasn’t because of the devastation. No, the majestic man on his knees, wearing torn jeans, captivated her. The impressive musculature of his upper body rippled with his every move; his stubbly hair shone along his scalp. He also had an air of feral violence about him. And he was hurt. She could see the blood gushing from his abdomen and staining the snow under his knees.

On some level, Lian thought his aggressiveness should scare her but her pulse quickened with excitement, not fear. She couldn’t believe it. This was the man she’d been dreaming about for months.

Who is he?

The guards barked commands to one another, but she couldn’t hear a word. They surrounded him as he sniffed the air, taking one of the guards who’d strayed too close into his arms to gnaw into the side of the man’s neck. When the victim was finally dragged away from him, he howled like the wild wolves in the mountains, blood dripping from his mouth.

One of the guards struck him and he fell onto his chest. That was when he spotted her and didn’t break eye contact until Hogan smacked him in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle.