Page 33 of Black Star

Chapter Three

Darian caressed her mind the whole way to Viktor. Damon took her to the cargo bay where Mikiel was already waiting. Viktor stood at a control panel at the very front of the bay. The tractor unit glowed an iridescent, shimmering blue as it pulled its target into the cargo bay.

“If the food processors on that ship are even remotely similar to ours -- which from everything I’ve found about that class and design of ship, they are -- we should have little difficulty with her,” Viktor was saying to Mikiel. “I have her signature, and she’s dissolved. Reconstruction in thirty seconds.”

Nani walked in and up to Mikiel. “You tested this idea on yourself.” It was a statement, not a question.

“It was too risky to try it untested. If anyone was going to die because of this desperate idea, it wasn’t going to be Nadira.”

She looked at Viktor. “It was your idea.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at her.

Nani counted the seconds in her head. She felt Darian’s touch trying to comfort her, but she refused to concentrate on anything other than the countdown going on in her head. If this didn’t work, Nadira would come back to them as so much space dust.

Fifteen seconds.

Ten.

She held her breath. She said a prayer to every deity she’d ever heard of in every language she could remember. Ten seconds seemed like an eternity.

Finally, the tractor reined in as far as it could, Nani saw sparkling particles roughly resembling human form begin to take shape on the landing platform.

“Initializing optimization. Creating a pattern.” Viktor’s verbal checklist was for her benefit, she knew. As glad as she was to have her own body back, it was damned frustrating not to be able to tap into the ship’s sensors. Even more so not to be in control. It was amazing what one could get used to given enough time.

She blinked back tears. Time. She’d missed so much of it. All of Nadira’s childhood. Her wedding. Time with Darian. True, she had a chance to catch the rest of it, at least, but she was still very bitter about the rest.

Breathe, my love. Breathe.

Can you sense her? Is she OK?

She’s pure energy right now and has no thoughts or feelings. It’s a limbo state.

So if she doesn’t make it…

She won’t feel anything, Nani .

Darian’s gentle assessment didn’t ease her mind.

“Materialization in three, two, one.”

Before her eyes, Nadira formed from particles of light. It took about ten seconds for the process to complete, but when it did, Nadira stood with her eyes tightly closed and her fists clenched. Her face was bruised -- presumably from a beating those people had given her aboard the other ship -- but seemed otherwise unharmed. Dr. Zabin…

Oh, God. Nani had put so much trust in him. How far could she trust him now? Certainly not with her daughter’s life.

“Take her to Medical,” Mikiel started.

“No,” Nani said, quietly but firmly. “Mikiel, take her back to the Sword Breaker. Your doctor there can assess her injuries.”

“Dr. Zabin --”

“Is not to touch her.” For the first time since her rebirth, she found herself. She wasn’t a weak woman, and not one to lie down and meekly let others decide her fate or the fate of the ones she loved. “Take her back to your ship and see to her there. I want her away from here.”

Mikiel looked hard at her for a long moment. “As you wish.”

Nadira looked at her, and Nani almost lost the control she’d only just reclaimed. She wanted to run to the young woman and throw her arms around her, but she wasn’t sure Nadira would welcome her. They exchanged looks, but didn’t approach each other. Nani inclined her chin slightly in acknowledgement, but otherwise didn’t say anything. She’d figure out what to do when they were in private.

She turned her attention to Viktor now. Five slow, measured steps later, she stood almost toe-to-toe with him. He was so massive, she had to crane her neck to look him in the face, but she didn’t care. His face was impassive, but she could see some of the vulnerability she knew lay underneath. It didn’t make her next action one bit harder.

With one swift movement, she drove her hand hard into his chin. His head snapped back, but otherwise, he didn’t move.

So she did it again.

“Nani!” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Damon take a step toward them, but Mikiel stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Nadira breathed in sharply, and Mikiel reached for her immediately, bringing her into the shelter of his body.

“You will never put my daughter in that kind of danger again.” Her words were quiet when she wanted to scream at the vampire. More than once, she’d wanted to knock some sense into Viktor, so she took the opportunity she’d been given.

“Feel better?”

“Not even close.”

“You could hit Mikiel, you know. He was part of this, as well as Darian.” Viktor sounded petulant, like he always did when he knew he couldn’t argue with her. To be the scariest person she’d ever seen, to have the worst possible reputation, Viktor really wasn’t a bad guy, and he didn’t deserve to be hit like she’d done. She couldn’t, however, bring herself to apologize. He might not have done anything this time, but he’d infuriated her enough in the last few months to have deserved it at some point.

“Mikiel, at least, had the good grace to put himself through it before exposing Nadira to it,” she snapped. “And I’ll deal with Darian, have no worries.”

“And if I’d done it to myself, who the hell was supposed to run the bloody thing?” Viktor gritted out his response. He was tense now, but unless Nani was greatly mistaken, it was his usual exasperation with her and not the dangerous, out-of-control anger she associated with his “time of the month,” as she’d come to think of Viktor’s Blood Burning. A vampire’s need for sex and blood when they’d been denied them for too long was an emotional, violent thing, scary in its intensity. This was just Viktor wanting the last word, but unsure how to get it.

“Even without me, the computer is perfectly able to make the necessary calculations.”

Viktor threw up his hands and turned away from her. “I don’t fucking believe this!”

“Let it go, Viktor.” Mikiel chuckled. “You never could win an argument with her.”

“We bloody well saved Nadira’s life!” He rubbed his jaw. “That was uncalled for.” He was pouting now, Nani knew.

“Maybe this time,” she conceded, “but I can’t tell you how many times you’ve needed it over the past few months. Consider us even now.”

She looked one last time at Nadira, who was suppressing a smile, and strode out of the cargo bay and down the corridor. Back to her room. She needed time to think.

She needed Darian.