Parallel Desire (25 page)

Jake shrank back. "I don't possess that kind of power, Shell."

She reached high, taking hold of both his shoulders. "Today you do. Now go! We don't have much time."

Jake took several loping steps forward, his hulking Antousian frame glowing from the power captured within the cell. Hesitating, he reached out a hand and touched the surface of Jared's prison. Although Shelby couldn't see his face, the glass before him began to glow even brighter, a slight moaning sound coming from Jake's direction.

She'd foreseen this: his immense grief at Jared's pain.

"Press on," she encouraged, but she stayed back against the wall—not because she didn't want to support him, but because of what was about to happen. "You are the one, Jakob, but protect yourself. That glass is going to shatter with a huge amount of force."

Jake gave a nod, and then as if in reaction, the room all about them grew brighter and seemed to explode from the inside out. Shelby was thrown face-first to the floor, a massive roaring sound filling the entire area as thousands of glass shards flew in every direction. Then, as if they'd freed a bolt of supernatural lightning, Jared flung past them, down the hall, a loud, erratic noise following in his wake.

"He's out to destroy all of our enemies!" she shouted over the maelstrom.

Jake struggled to his feet. "But that's just putting him at risk of being captured all over again. I have to go after him."

Shelby rode out the heat wave, staying glued to the floor. "You're not going to stop him—not this time, Jake. He's simply not rational right now. He's spent too many hours in his natural form."

"Will he be all right?" Jake shouted over the wind and noise.

"I didn't see that far! But we've got to get going toward the craft."

"No!" Jake shouted, struggling to move into the hallway even though a gale-force wind battered the length of it. "I have to get Jared out of here safely. You go ahead. We'll meet you there!"

Shelby didn't like the plan, but it was clear she'd never convince Jake to do otherwise, so she started running.

S
helby tore across the open
field, the early morning sun sparkling over the dewy grass. Barefoot, she ignored the slicing pain of rocks and other debris that cut into the soles of her feet, and made for the craft as Kryn lowered it unsteadily into the middle of the vast, open space. Behind her, she sensed soldiers, was aware that she was being pursued. But driven forward by the images from her time walk, she didn't dare slow down.

When she was only ten feet from the aircraft, a gangway lowered before the transport had solidly touched ground. She didn't look back, tried not to think about her king or about Jakob, and launched herself at the steps, catching hold with her forearms and dangling slightly above the earth below.

Suddenly, the aircraft opened fire, spattering the landscape with a hail of luminous shrapnel—nearly tossing Shelby back to the ground in the process. The wind kicked up all around her, blinding her and throwing her loose hair up into her eyes; still, she held to the plank, refusing to let go.

When the shooting stopped, she crawled up into the transport's belly, and only then did she glance back over her shoulder—just in time to witness the entire warehouse exploding into a giant fireball that threw her against the exposed floor of the cabin. The aircraft jolted, spun first in one direction, then another, by shockwaves from the blast, and for a moment she was certain that Kryn was going to lift off without waiting for Jared and Jake.

Wailing, Shelby watched as explosion after explosion rocked the warehouse. "Jakob!" she shrieked, hitching her arm through the accordion-like extension of the gangplank and holding tight for her life. "Oh, gods above, Jakob! My lord, my king!" She wailed and sobbed, inching backward until she sprawled on the floor of the transport.

Still Kryn kept the transport hovering low, as if she expected survivors, but Shelby knew differently. She'd already lived this moment once before, years ago, and the grief that overcame her was instantaneous. Huddling on her knees, pressing her face against the grooved floor, she folded herself into a ball. Into nothing. Because after today, there would be nothing left of her soul.

Then … after many long moments, a familiar vibrato sound startled her. "Go! Go! Go!" she heard Jake shout in his husky Antousian voice, and she felt his thunderous footsteps as he bounded onto the craft. Lifting her tear-stained face, she watched in shock as he lurched past her.

"Get down!" Jake urged. "Jared's behind me, and he'll scorch you alive." He launched himself atop her, burying her against the floor, and she felt a firestorm blaze past her. Still unable to believe what was happening, she glanced up just in time to see the glowing body of her commander hurl beyond her, toward the back of the craft. He'd made himself small and compact, even though he radiated enough energy to power a small nuclear arsenal.

She didn't even have time to react before the aircraft rapidly ascended, the gangway only halfway closed as they assumed full throttle.

J
ake sank hard against the
padded bench seat, not even bothering with buckling up. Shelby sat across the aisle from him, avoiding his gaze. He lifted his forearm to his nose; he hated the smoky smell that permeated his nostrils and had no doubt that the warehouse explosion had unlocked an unending litany of vicious memories for Shelby. He tried to catch her eye, shifted his legs uncomfortably, and finally quietly called out her name.

She trained her gaze on her bare feet. "I'm okay," was all she said.

"Come sit beside me," he prodded gently, patting the empty seat. "I want to talk to you."

She gave her head a slight shake, not looking up, and he shifted his long legs out into the aisle, bumping his left calf against hers. "Hey, you, get over here. Stat."

At last she lifted her gaze, and he saw such terror in the blue depths of her eyes, it nearly killed him. He didn't wait for her but rose to his feet and lurched unsteadily across the aisle. The craft definitely wasn't flying smooth and even, but he had to hand it to Kryn: For an inexperienced pilot the woman was doing all right. They all owed her their lives, and it was a debt he figured they'd be paying for a long time to come.

He collapsed beside her, exhausted. "Look at me, baby," he said, turning to face Shelby. After a long moment she finally tilted her face upward. "Are you all right?"

She wiped at her eyes, said nothing, and then finally whispered, "I thought you died. For a few minutes back there, I was sure you were gone."

He firmly grasped her by both shoulders. "I'm right here. We're out of that shit storm. We're all right. We've got Jared. Everything's going to be okay."

She gave a little nod. "Guess I just need to process that fact. That's all."

A curious burning began at the base of Jake's spine, but he tried to ignore it, shoving the sensation to the periphery of his consciousness. "You need rest. And to be held for a long, long time, Shell. Everything will feel normal again once we're home."

Again she nodded—but said nothing.

The achy burn along Jake's spine lifted higher, spreading upward into his shoulder blades and into the base of his ridged scalp.
Oh, shit. Not now. Any time but right now,
he thought, shifting uncomfortably. With a fast glance, he wondered if he could make it to the back of the craft where they were holding Jared. Staggering unsteadily to his feet, he started to move in that direction—anything so Shelby wouldn't see what had to be coming next—but it was too late.

"What's wrong?" she asked him in alarm, right as his entire body began to quake and tremor.

Not now, not now. Not like this.

"I—I … the serum is wearing off.… I'm gonna … gods, Shelby!" He threw his head back and roared his anguish, dropping heavily to his large Antousian knees. And right then, his body began to splinter, to tear apart at its very axis, as if his backbone were shrinking and realigning. As if his skin was suddenly too big and his head too small.

As if he was going to die.

S
helby watched in horror
as Jake collapsed face-first to the craft's floor, writhing and shifting in agony. His bones and flesh shrank, stretched a little, then shrank some more. His thick skin grew softer, moving over flesh and bone. He screamed in a voice that she'd hoped to never hear come out of his throat, and after a moment's hesitation, she fell atop him, holding him.

"It'll be over soon," she cried over his tormented groans and shouts. "Hang on, Jakob. Just ride it out. Ride it out."

She buried her face against his rough shoulders, feeling the way his bulky body transformed and altered, knowing to the depths of her soul how he suffered.

It didn't seem fair that they'd done this to him, the way they'd forced him to shift, and now that he had to go through such agony to transform again.

Then a thought popped into her mind: What if he didn't live through it? She gripped him tighter, praying that he'd survive. At last, after an endless whirlwind of torment, his body fell, exhausted and still against the grooved floor of the craft, and she collapsed atop him.

"You got through it," she murmured against his much more familiar shoulders, relishing the smoothness of the humanized skin. "You're okay. You're almost home."

He mumbled something, groaning, clutching at the floor. "Shell, Shell."

"I've got you, big boy." She pressed her cheek against his sweaty shoulder. "I'm holding on tight."

"Don't leave me, please," he murmured, and she knew that he was talking about far more than this moment. He understood how spooked she was, what a toll all of this had taken.

"I'm here right now," she whispered in his ear. It was all she could promise; this moment, this time. "I'm holding you close, Scott," she whispered without thinking.

He groaned in reaction. "Don't call me that."

She stroked his brow. "You're still going to try and tell me that you're really Jake Tierny? Puhlease." She laughed softly, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

"Just don't leave." He sighed uneasily.

From the front of the craft, Kryn called out to them. "The base is rejecting my codes. They're interpreting our approach as a hostile one."

"I gave you the proper approach sequence," Shelby argued, panicked.

Jake leaned up on his knees. "But we're in an Antousian craft. They're going to shoot us down if we're not careful," he cautioned, standing unsteadily. "Put me on the comm."

Kryn was silent for a long moment, and Shelby could see her punching at the controls. "They won't accept the hail," she said after a moment, her voice unsteady. "We're flying in there blind."

Jake reached for Shelby's hand, dragging her to her feet "You'd better buckle up tight," he said. "And prepare for a rough landing. This may get really ugly before we're in there."

"What about Jared?" she asked, glancing toward the rear of the craft. "We have to let them know he's onboard. They can't shoot down the king of Refaria!"

Jake shoved her down onto the bench seat, thrusting the harness into her hands. "Buckle up," was all he said. "I'm going to try my best to get through to them."

T
heir craft cautiously approached
what looked like just another stretch of mountainside, though in fact it concealed the lift door to a hangar. Jake offered quiet, urgent prayers to All. Everything rode on this moment, and so far, Base Ten hadn't accepted his hailing on the open frequency. Once again, he spoke into the comm, urgently calling out the code sequence, explaining that he was Lieutenant Scott Dillon, and their leader and king was onboard.

No answer at all.

Kryn leveled the craft toward the door, and they all held their breath. Jake would be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to protect his best friend and king.

One last time, he issued an open hail across the frequency, explaining in code who they were, and the exact nature of their precious cargo.

"I can't keep holding steady like this," Kryn shouted, punching at the instruments. "Tailwinds are kicking in and I'm losing control." The craft made a horrible groaning sound, and Jake was just about to lose it totally when all at once the bay door cranked open, allowing them safe passage to the interior.

"P
repare to fire on my
mark!" Thea commanded, waving three battalions closer to the Antousian craft. If the codes hadn't been current, they never would have allowed the transport entry, but they had guns ready to fire at the first sign of subterfuge. Two of her snipers took position right beside the craft's hatch, and as it slowly dropped down, the soldiers trained their weapons.

And then Jake's grimy face appeared in the portal, and she shouted, "Stand down! Stand down; hold your fire."

Jake looked like hell as he staggered down the platform. His clothes were falling off of him—oddly too big and in smoky tatters. Shelby came out behind him, looking stunned and equally smoke covered, her face smudged with ash. They'd obviously been through some sort of explosion. And then a willowy dark-haired woman that she'd never seen before popped into view, her eyes filled with anxiety as they darted about the deck. Kryn Zoltners, Thea thought with a smile.

"Kryn!" she called, giving a wave. At first the Antousian didn't know who'd shouted her name but took a hesitant step off the craft. Thea met her partway. "Kryn," she repeated, extending a hand. "I'm Lieutenant Thea Haven. Welcome."

Kryn's eyes widened, a faint smile on her lips. "And so we meet at last, Lieutenant."

Thea inclined her head. "We owe you our lives."

"No. So long as I can stay here, I think I owe you mine."

They exchanged a few more words until, catching sight of Thea, Jake called out to her, "We have Jared. I need help—we need help. …"

A twisting, powerless feeling began in Thea's gut. "He's on the craft?" she asked carefully.

Jake gave a nod. "I need to talk to you, Thea. Explain the situation."

At that precise moment, Thea noticed the sound of footsteps. It was one of those times when the sounds around you unfolded too slowly, when you wished you could kick time back by about three seconds. She knew the footsteps belonged to Kelsey, just as she knew that whatever the situation was with Jared, it couldn't be good.