Shadower (20 page)

"I'll be setting the motion detectors in the corridor. Use the intercom if you need anything. Good night, Moriah."

She nodded stiffly. Then he was gone, and she gave a sigh of relief. Until she realized his presence still lingered, in the faint, clean scent of sandalwood. That, along with a whiff of the enticing fragrance from the Thermaplant, teased her senses. She stared at the plant. No one had ever given her a present.

Her heart warmed and softened dangerously. She clamped down on the perilous emotions. She wouldn't be sidetracked. Yet she picked up the Thermaplant, held it between her hands. It was much harder to deal with Sabin when he was being nice.

*  *  *  *

The next morning, Moriah paced her cabin, wondering what in the Abyss was taking Sabin so long. She had assumed he would give her the all clear after he deactivated the motion alerts, like he'd done before, but she had been awake for several hours, and it was long past time for the morning meal. She'd done her stretches and martial arts katas, showered, and even straightened the cabin.

Stacking the dishes on the tray he had brought last night, she was startled to discover he'd left the fork behind. That wasn't at all like him. Either he had started trusting her, which she seriously doubted, or he must have been exceptionally tired. His oversight was to her advantage though, she decided, slipping the fork beneath her bunk pad. She'd given her word not to attack him, but she could resort to using the utensil as a weapon in self-defense.

Defense against what?
she had to honestly ask herself. Sabin didn't appear to pose a threat. At least, not a physical one. Instead, he threatened her more on a sensual level. Images flashed into her mind of him surrendering to her plea to mate and lowering his mouth to hers.
"Sweetheart, you have no idea of the things I'd like to do with you."

His words from that night in her cabin torpedoed through her, a shower of unwanted heat sizzling in their wake. Why couldn't she forget that near-disastrous seduction? Whirling, she paced the cabin, willing her thoughts to safer avenues.

She forced herself to think about Risa and the others. By now, Lionia and Celie, along with their reluctant hostage, were well on their way home. Hopefully, Kiah and Marna had returned and would get the Intrepid shipment ready to deliver to Calt. When Lionia arrived with the mechanic, he would be able to fix the two ships that were down.

Now she had second thoughts about sending Radd to Risa. All of the women in the group either hated or distrusted males, and with good cause. She hoped Radd's presence wouldn't unsettle them. Still, he seemed to be a quiet, dull little man. If anyone could keep him in line, Lionia could. Chafing at her confinement, she checked the chronometer again. Sabin might like to lounge the day away, but she didn't. She hit the comm button to his cabin.

"Sabin." Nothing. "Sabin, are you in there?" No answer. She paused, wondering if he'd already gone to the cockpit. Perhaps he meant to keep her a prisoner in her cabin the entire trip—six long cycles. Not if she could help it.

She was about to break the link and comm the cockpit, when she heard a groan. Startled, she listened intently. "Sabin? Are you all right?" Another groan was her only answer. Concerned, Moriah headed for the entry panel. Shrill alarms blasted her eardrums when she started through the corridor. Clapping her hands over her ears in a futile effort to block the piercing shrieks, she ran to Sabin's cabin. She didn't bother with the panel chime. If the alarms hadn't brought him running, the tone certainly wouldn't. His panel wasn't secured and slid open when she touched the pad.

He lay sprawled facedown on his bunk, the cover tangled around his hips. He apparently slept nude, a fact she forced herself to ignore as she approached the bunk. "Sabin!" she yelled in an attempt to be heard over the relentless alarms.

He shifted restlessly, clamping his hands over his ears. He didn't appear to be conscious, although she thought he muttered something. She wasn't sure, because her ears were going numb. She whirled and crossed to his control panel. It took several tries before she found the correct switch and finally shut the howling torment off.

Returning to the bunk, she grabbed his shoulder and shook him. "Wake up!" Spirit, but his skin was hot to the touch. She shook him again.

He flopped onto his back, his cover slipping off completely. Her throat went dry at the sight of his body, skin stretched taunt over smooth muscles, dark hair forging a trail from his chest down to his…She jerked her gaze away. No sense in reiterating what she already knew—that Sabin didn't need to wear one of the highly fashionable codpieces to enhance his assets. She pulled the cover over him. Grabbing his shoulders, she shook him insistently, alarmed by the heated skin beneath her fingertips. "Sabin!"

He finally opened his eyes, but they were glazed and unfocused as he stared at her. Panic speared through her. He appeared to be deathly ill. But in a moment, his eyes focused somewhat and recognition flared. "What are you doing here? Why did you set off the alarms?"

"I came to check on you when you didn't get up. It's not my fault you insist on setting those stupid alarms."

He groaned and closed his eyes again. "Damn, but I feel like I've been run over by an ore freighter." He opened one eye to glare at her. "What the hell did you do to me?"

She glared at him, outraged. "What did I do to you? You idiot. More likely, the question is, how much did you drink?" But even as she hurled the accusation, she knew alcohol wasn't the problem. He was burning with fever.

"I didn't drink a drop." Fumbling the cover away, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk.

"Something is wrong with you."

He rose shakily to his feet, totally unconcerned with his nudity, and staggered toward the lav. Moriah forced herself to look away from his heavily muscled legs and taut backside. "Maybe you should stay in your bunk," she suggested.

He waved her suggestion away, swaying and catching his balance against the lav entry. "It's just a little virus. I'll be fine as soon as I stretch the kinks out of my muscles."

Fine muscles they were, too, she thought, watching the ripples across his back as he opened the lav panel. She had never seen a nude man. Pax hadn't undressed when he'd forced himself on her. She had found him so repulsive, that if he had stripped, she wouldn't have looked. She had no problem looking at Sabin, however.

She caught herself. No more of those thoughts. She pivoted toward the exit. "I'll leave, then."

"Meet me—" he paused and coughed, a dry hacking cough. "Meet me in the galley in a quarter hour."

She didn't like the sound of that cough, but knew he was too stubborn to listen to any suggestions from her. He certainly wouldn't trust her with his ship. But that was his choice. Shrugging, she left his cabin.

He looked worse when he joined her in the galley. He had showered, but he hadn't shaved, and his beard growth accentuated his washed-out pallor. Shadows ringed his eyes, dulled from fever. He coughed frequently as he replicated the meal, despite her suggestion they eat prepackaged food. Then he ignored the protein sticks and amargrain on his plate, taking only Kava tea.

Moriah was becoming genuinely alarmed, both for Sabin and herself. If whatever he had was contagious, then she could get it, and neither one of them would be able to function. If it was a long-lasting virus or infection, it might hamper her pickup of the iridon. No, it wouldn't, she told herself. Elysia had a large population of healers, and she could seek treatment from one. Besides, she was amazingly healthy. She had never been sick, even after nursing Celie through childhood illnesses.

After the meal, Sabin rose unsteadily and headed for the cockpit. He didn't even insist she walk ahead of him.

"Don't you think you should go to your cabin and rest?" she suggested, following him down the corridor.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He collapsed into the pilot's seat. "Sorry, but I'm not about to let you have free reign of the ship."

She shook her head at his stubbornness. Typical male, refusing to admit to any weakness, however temporary. "Fine."

Silence fell over the cockpit, punctuated by Sabin working on his keyboard, muttering beneath his breath, and coughing. Exploring IAR files for the best routes out of Elysia, Moriah kept a covert watch on him. More than once, he just stared blankly at the screen as if he didn't see it; or he appeared on the verge of dozing off. But then he'd shake himself awake and pound the keyboard some more.

Sometime later, the beep of the subspace transceiver shrilled through the cockpit. Sabin lurched forward in his chair, hit the receive button, and snapped, "What?"

"Sounds like you're having a bad day, partner."

"I've had better," Sabin growled. "What do you want, McKnight?"

"Just checking in. Wanted to see if you were still in possession of your ship, or if I needed to put out a blue-feather alert."

"Very funny, old man. As you can see, I'm still here."

"Then I take it everything is under control. No problems?" Sabin's partner didn't have to be specific. Moriah knew he was referring to her, checking to be sure she hadn't caused any trouble—or any harm to Sabin.

"Everything's f—" A coughing spasm halted Sabin’s words. Finally catching his breath, he finished, "Everything's fine."

"Sounds like a bad cough you have there."

"Yeah, well, it's minor. Don't worry about it, old man."

"Do you have any—"

"No! I don't, whatever the hell it is. I said, don't worry."

"You inspire worry, Travers. You still headed for Elysia?"

"Coordinates locked in and secured," Sabin sent a meaningful glance to Moriah. She got his message loud and clear. She couldn't alter the course without the code.  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned her attention back to her own screen. She refused to be concerned about it, because she'd given her word, and she was going to Elysia.

"I'll check in later," McKnight said, and static filled the airwaves.

Sabin didn't talk after that. Moriah suspected it might be too much effort to speak between the episodes of coughing. A while later, he pushed to his feet and turned his bloodshot gaze on her. "I'm going to the lav.  Don't even think about touching the controls while I'm gone."

She was tempted to shoot back a scathing retort, but the way he swayed as he turned toward the entry halted her. She rose to her feet, afraid he'd fall. He managed to stumble down the corridor and into his cabin. She returned to her seat, concern gnawing at her. She halfheartedly studied sixth-sector shipping routes, but her thoughts kept wandering back to Sabin. When he didn't return after half an hour, she decided to check on him. There came no answer to the tone, so she entered his cabin.

He was sprawled face down on his bunk, apparently unconscious. Alarmed, she rushed to his side. She pressed her hand against his stubbled cheek, feeling the scorching heat even before she made contact. He stirred and moaned, then stilled again. She straightened, her brow furrowing in worry. Celie had contracted some of the usual childhood diseases, but she had never been incapacitated this way.

He needed something to bring down the fever, but Moriah knew he didn't have medical supplies, outside of sulfomagtrite. She had thoroughly searched his ship while it had been in her possession. She knew where everything was, including the weapons vault, and the code for accessing it. But that didn't help when he didn't have the supplies.

She went into the lav and wet a cloth in cool water. Returning to the bunk, she sat on its edge and stroked the cloth over Sabin's face. Other than turning his head from side to side, he didn't respond, and the cloth quickly became warm from the contact. She rinsed the cloth out and repeated the procedure several more times. He felt a little cooler after that, and she decided to wait and see how he did. This was a golden opportunity for her to do some business, and she needed to take full advantage of it.

Hurrying to the cockpit, she opened communications to Lionia. Fortunately, Sabin had not blocked outgoing messages. But his comm system was old and very slow. "Hail comrade." The Zarian's image flashed on the video viewer moments later. "You are well?"

It had been a standard Zarian greeting, but Moriah heard the underlying concern in Lionia's voice. Having lost her father in a raid when she was only three seasons of age, Lionia had been raised by her mother. At thirteen seasons, she'd witnessed the murder of her mother and older sister by men of an enemy clan.

Warfare among the clans of her world was common enough, but Lionia had been deeply affected by the experience. Since that time, she'd harbored an intense hatred and distrust for males of all species. She wasn't at all happy about Moriah traveling with Sabin.

"I'm fine," Moriah assured her. "Not a bit of trouble from Travers. As a matter of fact, he's passed out in his cabin."

"Ha!" Lionia said. "Weakling can't hold his liquor? Here's your chance to slit his throat and return to Risa."

Moriah didn't share Lionia's bloodthirsty tendencies, preferring subterfuge to killing—although she wouldn't be averse to witnessing Pax's slow and painful death. As much as Sabin irritated her, as much as he threatened her on several levels, she certainly didn't want to end his life. While it was very tempting to dump him at another Pleasure Dome—she'd just bet he'd be known at every one in the quadrant—and return to the pressing business matters at hand, she had made a promise. "I gave my word of honor I would travel to Elysia with him," she told Lionia.

The woman narrowed her eyes in disgust, but she didn't argue. Like the Leors, Zarians placed great value on honor. "Then I will continue as planned, unless you have other orders."

"No, I don’t. Have you contacted Risa?"

"As soon as we left Intrepid's air space."

"Have Kiah and Marna returned there yet?"

"Yes. They reported completing the Verante delivery without any problems."

At least
something
had gone right. "Good," Moriah said. "As soon as you return to Risa, have Kiah and Marna take the two shipments of cargo to Calt. I'll contact Thorne and have him arrange a deal."