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Chapter Fourteen

P etra

I haven’t been able to see Shadow’s blue jumpsuit through the foliage for maybe fifteen minutes, maybe half an hour. I finally got high enough to reach the palest buds, which was my mission. My fingers are bleeding in numerous places because of the thorns and the rough bark. No matter how careful I was, there was no avoiding some of the scrapes and cuts I sustained. I can’t believe none of us thought for me to bring gloves although Dax wouldn’t have had time to make me a pair anyway.

I’m tired, too. This climb took an amazing amount of effort. Between that and the adrenaline, my hands are shaking. Oh well, I’ve got flowers to pick.

The doc asked me to fill the whole backpack. Does he have any idea how many buds that is?

They’re each about the size of a small flash drive. I’ll need hundreds of them to fill the bag. I do what I’m told. Though I don’t know Tyree well, he was nothing but nice to me. I want to save his life.

I thought Shadow might comm me to see how I’m doing, but he’s been radio silent. He probably doesn’t want to startle or distract me. That’s good, I’ll need to keep my mind on the job and get it done.

We’ve been at this all day and it’s getting dark. I look over at the twin suns and see one of them has already set. Crap, that second sun is going to drop like a rock when it passes behind the mountains. I realize I don’t have much time. I won’t be able to get down safely in the dark. It will be impossible.

I notice I’m holding my breath in fear, barely containing a scream of panic. I don’t care if the backpack is full or not. I close it, slip it on and start to scramble down the tree as fast as is safely possible. I never stopped for a swig of water and I realize my mouth is parched as hell, but I don’t have a spare moment to waste on that. I have no intention of spending the night in this tree, and I know I’ll get killed if I keep descending after dark.

I’m getting more and more careless with my handholds as the sunlight fades. I just want to get down. I had imagined that picking my way down would be much easier than climbing up, but I was wrong. I have to be equally as careful. The blood slicking my hands causes me to slip at times, and finding stable footholds is imperative.

For a terrifying moment, I lose my grip. I flail wildly and luckily grasp a thorny branch before I come crashing eight stories down. I don’t have a moment to spare to even catch my breath or wait for my pulse to slow after that near-death experience. Keeping my focus on my hands and feet, I keep picking my way down.

Finally, I see the ground; a few more minutes and I’ll be safe. Memorizing my route, I think I can do it even in complete darkness. I don’t see Shadow, but I don’t want to take an extra second to look for him. He might be in the bushes peeing for all I know. I can’t wait to set foot on firm soil.

Jumping the last few feet, I resist the urge to kiss the dirt. Where is Shadow? My heart was pounding in fear before, wondering if I’d have to climb the last twenty feet in complete darkness, but it kicks into triple time now. Where is he? He had to have heard me thrashing through the leaves on my way down. Why isn’t he here giving me shit about taking my sweet time?

I call him. No answer. I look around the small open area where he was standing. It’s almost fully dark, but I use the last few moments of sunlight to inspect for clues. I see a few small drops of blood, and now that I’m looking for it, there’s a smudged trail in the dirt where it appears a large heavy body was dragged. Shadow’s been hurt! A pang of fear spears straight to my heart. Is he dead? I don’t think there’s enough blood for him to be dead. He must have been dragged off. I’ve got to find him.

I lift my wrist to comm the ship. The device is smashed. Completely dead. I can tell by looking that it’s toast. This must have happened when I lost my grip and was thrashing wildly to catch my balance. I make one swift, feeble attempt to hail the ship—no use. I could waste precious minutes fiddling with the comm, but it’s obvious it sustained irreparable damage.

Oh well, think Petra. What to do? No one is coming to save me. It’s fully dark now and getting colder by the second. I have no coat, no food, one bottle of water, and no comm. What I do have is a gun, which is good, but I can’t eat or drink it. I allow myself two shallow sips while I think this through. I saw the direction Shadow’s body was dragged; I can follow that course.

There must be a moon because thankfully it’s not pitch black. But that’s about all there is to be thankful for. There’s so much foliage overhead there’s only a tiny bit of moonlight trickling through the leaves. I can’t see a path, but I can see enough to avoid walking directly into a tree.

I’m going to keep trudging in the direction I think he was taken. Really, what else is there to do? I have to find him. At least I have to make an attempt.

I’m trying to remember why I was so angry at him. Why was I avoiding him? Why was I such a bitch on the ride here? Whatever my reasons, they don’t seem so important at the moment.

I spot a metallic glint up ahead in the moonlight. It’s Shadow’s arm, lying in the grass near a large rock. I pick it up and hot tears well in my eyes. I hug it to me like it was the flesh and blood male it belongs to. My throat constricts in worry. His blood was splattered on the rocks, his arm ripped from his body, he’s been dragged off by God knows who—or what. My mind flies to a thousand terrible possibilities of what might be happening to Shadow right this moment.

“Stop, Petra. Focus,” I scold myself in a soft whisper.

I inspect and see no blood on his prosthetic. I never understood how it was attached in the first place, but I wonder if it’s like a tooth implant back on Earth. They make a sturdy socket in the existing bone and screw it into place. I have no idea why it’s torn off, but the man it was attached to isn’t here. I have to believe he’s still alive.

I’m still traveling forward on a path I can’t see. I don’t want to think about all the things I’m afraid of. I try to keep walking and put my mind on pause. That works for about twelve seconds, then I’m back on worry mode again.

First off, let’s face it, this is a fool’s errand. How in the heck am I going to find Shadow when I don’t know which direction he went? What if I do find him? My mind goes down a veritable rabbit hole thinking of all the trouble that could be waiting when I find him. Like a tribe of angry armed warriors. Or snarling beasts.

What if I don’t find him? I have no comm unit. How will the Deliverance find me? I know none of them are fond of Shadow. Do they like me enough to look for us? Might I be stranded on this godforsaken planet forever? I try to calm that fear by reminding myself that everyone seems to like Tyree and these buds are for him.

Oh well. I have a gun and I have a plan—even though it’s not much of one. I’ll have to go with it.

I finally allow myself to think about what I’ve been avoiding more than anything—Shadow. I know I should be thinking about my safety and getting out of this predicament, but all I really want to think about is him. I know he was hurt, I saw his blood. I doubt he’s dead, if they’d have wanted to kill him they would have done just that and left the body. They wanted him for something, so I have to assume he’s still alive.

A rush of relief courses through me as I concentrate on this: Shadow is still alive. And it makes me so glad I begin to tear up. I’m Petra, woman of steel. I make sex, not love. I don’t fall for people. I don’t sleep with people. I am an island. I need no one. I don’t let my guard down. I don’t trust. And I don’t get close.

And yet, here I am. Worried sick over Shadow. I can’t lie to myself and say I’d be equally as worried if it was Dax or the doc or anyone else who was in danger. No, this is Shadow. My Shadow.

Shit, I just said that, didn’t I? My Shadow. Yeah, I think of him as mine. And I know he likes me, too. I could tell he was pissed as hell they asked me to go on this mission. He’s done nothing but try to keep me safe (and give me mind-blowing sex) since he met me. And I’ve done nothing but push him away (and give him mind-blowing sex) in return.

I need to turn my attention to the task at hand. But now it’s different. It’s even more urgent. I have to find the male I deeply care for.

The moon must be higher in the sky because I think there’s a bit more light filtering down. I’m fatigued. My bruised and bloodied hands and feet throb with every jarring step. I’m scared. There might be wild animals out in these woods. Oh grandma, what big teeth you have. I clutch the gun tighter and force myself to keep walking.

I see some light up ahead and instinctively head toward it. I’m moving faster now, almost running even though the ground is uneven and thorny bushes are grabbing at me mercilessly. Now at a clearing at the edge of the forest, I’m standing between the last couple of trees before the open space.

Three football fields in front of me is a sheer rock wall, maybe fifty feet tall. In the rock, about twenty feet up, there’s a cave with a fire burning in it. That’s the light I’ve been following. I see someone stand up, backlit by the fire. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the hulking humanoid was looking right at me. But then he moves closer to the fire and sits down.

I squat down silently and watch for a while. Every so often I inch closer to the rock wall.

I saw a show once on the History Channel about military snipers and how they developed this method of sneaking up on their target. It might take an hour to move ten feet, but they just keep inching forward. That’s what I’m going to do. Because I’m certain Shadow, my Shadow, is in that cave.

Shadow

Oh Gods, my head is killing me. There is one spot on my temple that feels as if it was pierced by a knife. My eye is shut. I keep my breathing even, as though I’m still unconscious.

I tamp down the fear that grips my chest and assess the situation. I know I was hit by something. I know I was taken. I don’t know who did it, or how many of them there are, but I know I have to get out of here. I have to get back to Petra, wherever she may be. I need to keep her safe.

I hear movements, then talking.

“This might be our lucky day. Dakon Valerius, what a find.”

“Yeah,” another voice answers. “Glad we only stunned him and didn’t kill him. There’s no bounty on him dead. Only alive.”

“Aren’t you glad I stopped you from killing him? If you’d had your way and shot him he’d be worth nothing. I think we should split the bounty sixty/forty.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Mang. Fifty/fifty is fair. Besides, I’m the one who had the idea not to tell base camp we found this guy. If we let them know who we’ve found, they’ll find a way to swindle us out of our bounty. Fifty/fifty, Mang.”

“So, the scan says he’s Dakon Valerius, wanted by Daneur Khour, head of the MarZan cartel, himself. A million credit bounty. Holy drack , our lucky day. We’ve got him trussed up so tight he has no chance of escape. We’ll get him back to base camp first thing in the morning. We’ll tie him to a tree out of range of camp and arrange the deal before we haul him through the gates. Otherwise every male there will expect a cut.”

“We found him, Mang. The bounty’s ours, nobody else’s.”

I make an almost imperceptible attempt to move, first my arms, then my legs. Mang was right,

I’m tied so tightly I’ll never escape my bonds. My left arm is gone. If there is ever an opportunity to fight, I’ll be at a severe disadvantage. One gladiator against two assholes isn’t such bad odds. A one-armed gladiator? If there was money riding on it, I wouldn’t bet on me.

My thoughts fly to Petra. These males sound like cutthroat animals. They’re only keeping me alive because they discovered a bounty on my head due to the overthrow of the Deliverance . If Petra comes looking for me, I have no doubt they’ll scan her, find she’s not wanted by the cartel, and kill her where she stands. I try to keep my jaw from clenching when I realize they won’t kill her immediately. They’ll take turns with her first. If they realize I care for her, they’ll make me watch.

Drack, I hope she thinks I abandoned her. She can comm the ship, they’ll rescue her, and all fly safely away. They all hate me, I’ll be no loss. I pray to the Gods she doesn’t search for me. The comm was on my left wrist, on the prosthetic I no longer have. There’s no way to contact her.