The Seer (Tellaran Series) (23 page)

Twenty-four

Arissa groaned and blue eyes flashed in her mind.

Jolar.

“Arissa? You’re awake?” he asked softly, his palm gently cupped her cheek. “Sweet, are you awake?”

“What the fuck happened?” she croaked and tried to force her eyes open.

She heard his breath catch and he made a choking sound but whether he were laughing or crying she couldn’t quite tell.

Her head hurt and opening her eyes sure didn’t help her headache any. The room that swam around her was unfamiliar with a gray ceiling and walls that looked to have been cut from rock. There was a light flush against the ceiling above her and below her was the soft-firm feel of a mattress. She was dressed in just her halter and underwear and there was a blanket over her.

But she had the answer about the choking sound. He was doing both.

Jolar smiled down at her, tears running down his face.

“Where—” she began.

“In a minute. How do you feel?”

“Like a sular fell on my head,” she murmured. “What? What did I say?”

“Cenon fell on you,” he said grimly. “And when she did, she saved your life.”

“Cenon?” Arissa wondered then her eyes went wide. “Oh, gods, Jolar!” she cried, reaching out for him. “There are men, armed! You have to—”

“It’s all right,” he said quickly, cradling her hand gently. “That was yesterday. They’re gone now. “

“Yesterday?” She looked him over. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

His blue eyes were steady but there was an echo of deep pain in them. “The initial attack knocked me out but I wasn’t hurt.”

He brushed a lock of her hair away from her face.

He hasn’t done that in so long . . .

“I’m all right and we’re safe here, okay? Now, you said your head hurts. Anything else?”

Arissa shifted her body carefully. She could feel her fingers and toes and nothing seemed to be broken. She ached all over though.

She wet her lips. “How are my eyes?”

“Are you having trouble with your vision?” he asked, waves of fear flowing around her.

“No, I mean are my pupils different sizes? That could mean concussion.”

He peered closely into each eye. “No, they’re the same size. I’d bet you do have a concussion. I thought—” His pain rolled over her. “I couldn’t wake you.”

“I want to sit up.”

“Let me help you.”

He was gentle as he eased her into a sitting position but she winced all the same. Her hand went to her temple. “Oh, I can definitely say that my head hurts.”

“There’s some analgesics in the medkit. Hold on.”

He placed the medkit on the bed beside her and rifled through the contents. The room was sparse with this large bed in the center of the space and a couple of storage units around the room. There were no windows but through the open doorway she could see another room beyond this one with the same ceiling, walls and utilitarian lighting but that one had a table and metal chairs.

“Where
are
we?” she asked.

“Danlen’s emergency shelter.”

“Oh.” She frowned. That didn’t seem like information you would give a guest who had just arrived. “He told you he had one?”

“No,” he said, placing the pain patch on her upper arm. “Give that a minute. If you feel dizzy or nauseous, tell me right away.”

“What time is it?”

He shrugged, closing the medkit. “It was almost nineteen hundred hours last time I checked. But that was a while ago. Feeling any better?”

The headache was slowing retreating and the pain patch was helping with her achiness too.

“Is there anything to drink?”

In response he went to the other room and brought back a metal cup filled with cold water.

“Hey, not so fast,” he objected at her thirsty gulps. “Just sip, okay? We aren’t going anywhere for a while.”

“Where are we again?”

“A shelter about a kilometer outside the estate.”

“If Danlen didn’t tell you about it, how did you know it was here?”

“I didn’t. Our shuttle was destroyed, the house was on fire and you were,” he swallowed, “hurt. I was just sitting there with you on the ground trying to figure out what the hell to do. Cenon was lying there in the dirt next to us and I suddenly wondered why. She knew Danlen was in the house so why run outside and not to him? Then I thought about how you said Danlen loved her. He wouldn’t have left her, not in
his
business, without providing for her safety. Maybe she wasn’t just running
from
something but
to
something.”

He sat down on the bed beside her. “So if she were supposed to just cut and run in case of danger then that’s where she was heading when she was killed.” He closed his eyes briefly. “As much as I didn’t want to leave you, I couldn’t help you by sitting there. I managed to find a working hand light and went in the direction that Cenon was headed. I didn’t find anything but forest. But Danlen would have made sure Cenon could find whatever it was even in the dark. So thinking it might be easier seen in the dark I shut off the light.”

“And that’s when you saw it?”

He gave a half-smile. “No that’s when I tripped. I caught myself against a tree, thank the gods. Remember the gendara trees? On the ship?”

“The one you wouldn’t let me touch?”

“It was a gendara tree.”

She frowned. “Okay.”

“A gendara tree,” he repeated. “On
Sertar
. A tree that you’d know even if you were blind and deaf because—”

“Because you’d feel the sting,” she finished.

He gave a nod. “And Danlen was Gensoyan. So I just followed the gendara trees and I found the door hidden into the side of the hill.”

“The door was unlocked?”

A pained look crossed his face. “No. I needed Cenon’s palm print to open it. I had to carry her out here. But as soon as the door was opened all the systems automatically came online. We have heat, fresh air, food, water. We could hold out here for months.”

“You aren’t planning to stay here that long, are you?” she asked, surprised.

He gave a faint smile. “If I did, would you stay with me?”

Arissa looked away. “Is there anything to eat?”

She’d hurt him. Why did it always come to this? She couldn’t be any part of his life without wanting all of him. To see what she wanted before her and never have it would be agony and staying with him as his mistress would make him despise himself. If she were gone at least he would keep his self-respect.

And someday maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Yes,” he said. “Think you’re up to walking? I can carry you if you’re not.”

He must have carried her here too but thankfully she didn’t remember that. She didn’t think she could handle having his arms around her right now without breaking down.

“I’ll walk,” she said quickly. “I’m uh, going to need something to wear and probably a shower too.”

  “I can give you a dress. You can have the shower as long as I’m in there with you.”

“Jolar, I really don’t think—”

“First off,” he interrupted. “You just woke up after being out way longer than you should have been for a concussion. It may have something to do with being a Seer or you could have suffered such a bad blow that you have a cranial fracture. I just don’t know. I don’t know much beyond basic aid and I don’t have the equipment to diagnose, let alone treat, you. I’m not about to let you get into the shower when you could lose your balance and suffer another injury.

“Second,” he continued. “I don’t think there’s a part of you I
haven’t
seen so there’s really no reason I shouldn’t be in there with you.”

“I guess I’m not going to get a shower then.”

His lips thinned. “Have it your way. But I’m telling you now, until I’m sure you’re all right, you aren’t getting in there without me.”

She choked back hysterical laughter, her hand tight on the blanket over her. Just sitting with him, feeling the warmth of his body had her breath quickening. But both of them naked with warm water running over him . . .

Sitting here with him on the bed, when under this blanket all she had on was her underthings wasn’t helping either. “Can I at least have something to wear?”

He went to a storage unit in the room and dug through it. He shook out a gown and offered it to her. It was a simple pale green dress of soft fabric. Pull-over style, the dress had a wide neck, three-quarter sleeves and a tie belt—and no doubt had belonged to the much-taller Cenon.

It was also going to be about as flattering as a festering sack.

“Isn’t there anything else?” she asked, looking at it with dismay. “I’m going to be swimming in that.”

Hitting her head must have knocked the good sense right out of it.

He’s betrothed to someone else! The last thing I should be worried about is trying to look pretty for him!

“I want something that’s going to be easy to get off you.”

She blinked.

“I mean if you get dizzy or sick to your stomach,” he added.

“Fine,” she mumbled, holding her hand out to take it. “Give it to me and turn around.”

He pulled it away. “No, and don’t bother arguing. I’m not going to turn my back the first time you stand up, Arissa. I need to be ready to catch you if you fall.”

“Jolar, I’m fine.”

“Good. I really don’t want you to fall.”

She glared at him.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the Seer, what would you say the chances of me giving in on this are?”

She sighed.

“All right,” he said when it was clear she wasn’t going to argue further. “I’m going to help you stand up. If you’re steady, I’ll put the dress on you.”

This really was ridiculous. He helped her to her feet as if she were a complete invalid. He kept hold of her while he put the dress over her head and had her stick one arm through then the other. He tied the belt around her waist himself.

“All right?” he asked, his hands still at her waist as he peered into her face.

“If you’re like this now, as a father-to-be you’ll be completely insufferable,” she grumbled.

There was a sudden silence and her throat tightened. Just the thought of him and Jasa having . . . 

“Come on, let’s get you to the table,” he said.

He half-carried her to the next room, despite her protests that she was perfectly all right to walk, and helped her sit.

“We have some the finest meal pack selections in the quadrant,” he said with forced brightness. “What sounds good? Onka cakes? Sular stew?”

“What are you having?”

“I was going to try the stew but it doesn’t matter,” he replied. “They’re individual packs so you can have whatever you like. There’s spring medallions, how about those?”

“Okay,” she said, taking the opportunity to look around this room while he got their meal ready. This room was twice as big as the bedroom and contained this table, a small kitchenette, a couple of comfortable looking sofas and chairs and a computer terminal. What appeared to be the door to the outside was sealed and neatly organized on the wall behind her, between this room and the bedroom, was a complete arsenal of weapons.

“Are there external security systems?” she asked.

He followed her gaze. “Oh, yes. We have infrared cameras, mounted pulse cannons, proximity detectors that will go off if anything larger than snouse runs by.”

“A man with a lot of enemies,” she murmured.

He placed the medallions in front of her and, smiling, placed next to it a metal cup holding a fizzy pink concoction. “We even have several months worth of ingredients to make shooting stars.”

She swallowed hard realizing that he’d just recreated their first dinner out on the
Queen’s Light
.

It hadn’t been an accident either.

“Is it all right?” he asked quietly.

“It looks great,” she managed. She took a sip of the drink. “It’s great, thanks.”