The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (11 page)

NINETEEN

The ship seemed to be traveling faster than usual. Leah had never felt the ship “moving” before. Now, motion sickness threatened. Otso raced her up the stairs leading to the bridge. Stepping off the top tread, her vision spun, and she fell against the rail. “What’s wrong with the ship? Why does it keep tilting?”

“That wasn’t the vessel.” Otso grabbed both sides of her waist and stood her up.

She slapped his hands away. “What? Of course--”

“The painkiller overdose is taking effect.”

She stopped and looked at him. “Already? What does that mean?”

“You might get hot or cold, have trouble breathing, or hallucinate until you pass out. Then you could go into a drug-induced cardiac arrest, coma, or die.”

That’s not what she wanted to hear. A gust of wind whipped around the corner. Otso hurried onto the bridge with Leah close behind. Both stopped at the entrance and gawked as wind blasted through blown-out windows.

Fragments of glass littered everything. Sheets of paper floated along the ground and over damaged displays. Cabinet doors hung open, some on only one hinge. On prone legs, a pair of black boots, toes up, stuck out from around the far corner. The feet of the person lying on the floor didn’t move, nor did anyone pay attention to the boot’s owner.

A man dressed in a formal white suit wiped his brow as he turned toward them. The captain kicked through glass and wood splinters from the shattered counters and shook Otso’s hand. “Gracias, my good man. With your help, we survive.”

“Yes, but this looks like a war zone after a bombing raid.” He ran fingers through his hair.

The captain stared at his destroyed room. Blood smears stained his jacket. “The pirate stay in corner behind you and fire at will. My men hard to stop him. But they did.” His eyes glanced to the boots. A small cry came from Leah’s throat before she covered her mouth.

Like the other men, sweat beaded on her forehead even though she shivered in the cool breeze. “Why did the ship lean to one side a minute ago and aren’t we going a little fast?” At the bow, water splashed high along the sides as the boat cut through.

“Ah.” The captain nodded at the fried electronics along the counter. “When restart the navigation, everything go loco.” He opened the sliding door to the chart room and spoke Spanish to the man sitting at the computer in the corner. Otso pushed Leah to the side and stepped into the small room. She tried to crowd in, but with the chart table taking up half the space, no room remained. She stood at the door and listened.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t stop the ship’? If the computer has taken control, turn it off.”

Behind Leah, a voice peeped out. “Cool, like HAL in 2001 Space Odyssey.” Everyone looked at the boy. “You know, Dave. How are you today, Dave?”

Otso frowned and turned to the two men. “Why hasn’t the speed governor kicked in to slow down the engines? How fast does the ship have to go before the speed trip cuts the fuel supply? Will the engines blow before that?”

The captain threw his hands up. “Señor, we working on it. Please. The navigation system no take over the ship. It stop us from manual controls.”

“Have you radioed or called for help?”
              “We try, but signal no transmit. We work on it by hand, too.”

Otso rubbed his eyes. “Where does our new course take us?” The captain scooted to the corner, pulled a map out of a roll tube and laid it on the table. He lined a ruler against points. Everyone gathered around, including Ivan who snuck his way in.

Leaning against the chart room’s pocket door, Leah suddenly couldn’t breathe. Her ribs crushed her lungs. She clung to the frame, unable to make a sound. Otso studied the map on the table, not seeing her distress. Ivan ogled the captain’s gadgets.

A loud gasp escaped her as she sucked air into her mouth and coughed. Otso circled the table. “You okay? You should go to your cabin before the symptoms get too bad.”

She swiped her forehead over the dress’s sleeve. “I’m fine.” She brushed off Otso then snapped at the captain. “Don’t just stand there. What do we do next, dammit?” God, it was hot in here.

The captain shuffled to the desk and sat in the chair vacated by the navigator. “This is the navigation program. We turn off computer, but no good.”

Leah grunted. “Just because you turn off one computer doesn’t mean the programming quits. There are back-ups and protocols for power failures. This station could just be a display terminal. You probably have internal hard drives in the front consoles that are trashed or frozen. You have to reprogram them to take them offline. That’s the only way.”

A flash of bright light burned into Leah’s vision, jabbing worse than her migraines. Her hands slapped over her stinging eyes. What the hell? “Ivan, if you’re playing with something, stop. It hurts my eyes.” The boy didn’t reply. In fact, she heard nothing at all: no wind through the windows, no sirens, no voices from the command center.

Peeking through her fingers, she saw the family photo that hung across the hallway from the bathroom in her parent’s home, bloody handprint below, chalk outline of her dad on the floor. She smelled the pretty soaps Mom said were only to look at. The light flashed again; she whipped her head away, a pain worse than a bullet to the head digging in. She gritted her teeth.

“Leah?” Otso looked back on her.

“I’m fine.” She waved him off and leaned against the door casing. Chills ran down her back. Roclas was coming. She felt him nearby. He found her—and she was glad.

In front of the computer, Otso stood behind Ivan, and the boy hung over the captain’s shoulder, staring at the monitor. “Once, someone hacked my game. I couldn’t get my weapons screen to open and had to fight clones for two days in a loincloth. That sucked.”

Hacked? Yes, she hacked the bastard Roclas. And had paid the price for it. Now, he was coming to finish what he started. He would kill her this time. Dad wasn’t here to save her like before. He abandoned her.

She needed a weapon. Dad used his gun. She didn’t have one, didn’t want one. If you missed your target, there was no ‘try over’ for the collateral damage.

But if she didn’t fight, Roclas would kill her then the boy. Nobody was going to hurt her family anymore, as long as she was alive. Seeing Otso with his back to her, she knew the solution. Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t. Had to. She swallowed hard, stepped behind him and took the gun tucked under his jacket.

Otso’s hand slapped over his empty waistband. He spun around, and tried to grab the gun from her hands. Leah put an elbow into his stomach and twisted away, pistol pointed at his face. He slowly brought open hands forward. Ivan glanced back from the computer monitor. “Holy cow, Leah! What are you doing?”

Her eyes never wavered from the man. She held the gun with a steadiness she didn’t feel inside. “He’s here.” Her voice scratched over her throat. “And I’m going to kill him. I will have justice.”

Leah stared at Otso’s questioning face. He stepped toward her. She staggered backward into the bridge’s walkway. Sweat stung her eyes. “Stay back. No one is stop--” Another bright flash sent pain searing through her skull. She cried out and squeezed her eyes shut. Stay alert. Her eyes popped open, seeing her childhood bathroom decorated in Hello Kitty colors.

The shadow in the dark hallway of her childhood home slithered toward her, blocking the view of the only photo evidence she had of her family’s existence. The same photo she’d carried for twenty years. “Don’t move!” Her voice cracked. Be strong. The image stepped across the bathroom threshold. The man with one blue eye, one brown eye--the source of terrors that kept her cowering and the cause of nightmares that ripped apart her heart--slid into the light.

Leah fell against the counter but quickly rebounded. “We meet again, Roclas. But I’m holding the gun this time.” Her eyes refused to blink. Unsteady breathing jarred her body, making her aim sway. Focus. “Many years I dreamed of this moment. What I would say, what I would do.

“I’ve waited twenty years for you. Woke every morning wondering if today was the day you’d find me. The day I’d finally see my family--who you took from me!” Hot tears rolled. “Do you have any idea what you did to me?” Her hands shook. “DO YOU?” She choked back sobs. Anger churned out like venom. “Three words from your mouth turned my life into a fucking hell:  I…find...you.” Her vision blurred, knees buckled. The man moved forward. She waved the gun. “No!”

He stopped.

She grunted; her eyelids grew heavy, but she felt weightless. She grinned. “Of course, you’re not the only one to blame.” Down the hall, her father lay on the carpet, inside the chalk outline. His pajama top hung in shreds over his disfigured torso. He pointed his police revolver in her direction.

“Leah, run! Hide!”

Expecting the deafening blasts that always followed those words, she fell to her knees, arms covering her head. “No more! Please, no more.”

All was quiet. No exploding shotgun, no screaming. She peeked out and then sat back against the bathroom cabinet and laughed while her tears fell. “Same thing in every nightmare, Dad. You were a great policeman, saving the world from bad guys, but you couldn’t save your own family. And it was my fault.”

She snatched the gun with both hands and tilted up her head. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll make up for getting you killed.” Leah focused on the killer directly opposite her and squeezed the trigger as many times as she could before passing out.

TWENTY

Standing opposite Leah outside the chart room, Hannes studied her eyes. She didn’t look at him; she looked through him. His body tensed, ready for the instant she succumbed to the drug.

He stepped forward. Leah bumped into the counter under the bridge windows. Before his eyes, she transformed from a hard, angry woman, into a scared child. A flurry of emotions welled in him. His fingers dug into the palm of his hands. She would not get to him. He ran his fingers through his hair.

Ivan poked his head out the side of the door, saw Leah with the gun pointed forward, and snapped back behind the wall. “She makes computer games, King Bear, sir, but maybe she can fix this computer.” The boy nodded toward the small desk.

Behind him, he heard the child Leah.
I have waited twenty years for you, Roclas.
Hannes spun around. Twenty years? She had to be a child then, ten or eleven…
what you did to me?

His first thoughts gushed ice water through his body. A piece of anger raged against the drug dealer. Claws popped from his fingers. He willed them back. Hannes studied Leah trapped in her own mind. She barely breathed between choking sobs and mumbling shouts. 

Her entire body shook. Fury burned in her bloodshot eyes. What had happened to her? Flashes of his tortured past rose from its inner grave: bodies undulating on wet concrete, the blood-filled syringes, the ungodly pain, walking skeletons, unrecognizable human forms chained to a pole, blood covering his hands. He shoved those images into his black pit--the bottomless hole that fired his will to live, to get justice.

He shared in her pain, her self-hatred held inside for so long. Leah’s eyes rolled up, and she fell against the counter. Hannes lunged forward. She rebounded and steadied the weapon’s sight on him.

He backed off. What was she reliving? He needed to know what she physically survived that killed her soul. He could save this broken angel from suffering the hell he knew all too well. 
…not the only one to blame.
She looked at the floor and melted into an agonizing heap on the carpet…
every nightmare, Dad.

Hannes saw it. Her vision played in his mind. He saw the image on the floor. Her protector, her father.
...great policeman...couldn’t save your own family...
He saw the evil shadow reflecting in her eyes—Ojo Azul, Blue Eye--the one who killed her family, hunted her day after day, making her wait to die.

Don’t worry, Dad...
Her lethargic arms flopped together in her lap. Before she raised the weapon, Hannes slipped to her side, lifted the gun from her hands, checked that the safety was still on, and held her when she slumped, unconscious.

Perkele! Her breathing evened. He lightly tapped her cheek. “Leah. Leah, wake up.”

The boy gasped. “Is sh-she dead?”

Her eyes popped open; she sprang to her knees and buried her wet face in her protector’s shirt. “Please don’t let him find me. I-I don’t want to die. I want friends with snowballs, tipping trees and tea-peeing cows.”

Hannes cocked his head and looked at the boy for an explanation. Ivan shrugged his shoulders. “I think she means TP-ing trees and cow tipping.”

“Cow what?” Hannes felt her grip on his shirt loosen. Her body trembled. “Please don’t let him kill me. Please.”

His hand rested on the small of her back. The other cradled her head against his chest. “Leah! Leah, calm down.” Her hands slowly slid down his chest. Chills from her touch racked him. “You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.” He stroked the back of her head.

Her sobs lightened, and she leaned into him. “Promise you won’t let him find me. Promise me…”

Promise softly echoed through his mind. “No. Leah, stay with me.” He laid her head in the crook of his arm and tapped her cheek again.

She bolted up. “What? What’s happening?” Her wide eyes scanned the destroyed bridge.

He had to be quick. “Leah, can you fix the navigation software?”

“Pfff, if I can hack a bank, I can--” Her head fell against Hannes’ shoulder. He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. Her head and arms flopped against his back. “Hmm. You have the cutest butt.” Her hands squeezed his “cheeks.” Hannes jumped from the unexpected goosing. His face blushed hot.

Leah released her hold and buried her face in the back of his shirt. “Oh, shit. I said that out loud, didn’t I?” She giggled. He carried her into the chart room and sat her at the computer.

Hannes cupped her face in his hands and focused her attention on him. “Okay, Princess. It’s time to make the boat stop before the engines blow. Do you understand?”

Solemn faced, she tossed her hair out of her eyes. “Don’t call me princess.” Then she typed faster than Hannes thought possible, under the circumstances. He watched rows of letters and symbols zip across the screen. The typing slowed and her body dipped toward the keyboard. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up. “Can you do this?”

The screen flashed Upload Yes or No.

“Yesssiree, done.” She punched the enter key. Immediately the boat leaned sideways and accelerated. Leah slid out of her chair and hit her head against the table leg.

The captain tromped toward the room. “Stop! No go faster! No, no, no!”

Hannes crawled under the table and scooped up a crying, half-conscious Leah. “Something’s wrong, Leah. We’re going faster. You have to fix it.”

She laid her tear-stained face against his chest. “He told me to run and hide.” Her head dropped into her hands. “I’ve missed so much. A mother holding my baby with blue lions. Love someone? Someone loving me.”

Hannes gently lifted her chin with his finger. “Look at me.” Her tear-stained face tilted to meet his eyes. “Do you care for the boy?”

She sat straighter. “Don’t touch my family.”

He found it interesting she so quickly adopted the kid. She must long for a family as much as he did, at one time. “To keep him safe, you have to tell the computer to slow down. Will you do that before falling asleep?” or possibly dying. The thought made his breath catch. No. She wouldn’t die on him. He wouldn’t allow it.

Leah raised her chin off his finger and scooted from under the table. Hannes studied her bumbling movements, ready to catch her. She sat in the chair and rigorously shook her head. She appeared more cognizant. She stared at the screen, watching line after line scroll up and disappear from view. Her eyes drooped. He knelt behind the chair and talked over her shoulder. “Take your time.”

“Don’t have time.”

Hannes stared without a clue at the screen. “How do we fix it?”

Her fingers tapped on the keyboard. “I just need to…” Her last words slipped into mumbled noise; her head dipped forward.

Hannes wrapped his arms around her ribcage and held her against the chair’s back. “Stay with me, Princess. You can do this.”

She scrolled through screens of symbols and words, every so often stopping and typing. She wiped her wet forehead. “Almost there.” Her fingers were a blur on the keyboard. Line after line flew off the screen. The typing slowed. Her body relaxed, pulling Hannes tighter against the backside of the chair. She collapsed forward, head down, hands slipping off the keyboard.

Hannes snapped her back, catching her head on his shoulder. He tapped her face and pulled up her eyelid. She wasn’t waking any time soon.

He swallowed hard. Did she finish? More important, was it right?

The screen flashed Upload Yes or No.