Chapter Three
Ava
She followed Lieutenant McClane’s orders, crawled down the access shaft, found a blast door, and closed it.
Then she leaned with her back against it.
And she waited.
She had no idea how long he’d be.
The injury to her wrist was significant. At first, pain pulsed up her arm, sinking so hard into her shoulder it felt like it would fall off.
As seconds ticked past into minutes, the pain gave way to a dead cold sensation that spread into every finger.
She could barely move her hand anymore.
Sticky blue blood oozed from her injury and pooled over her lap as she cradled her hand.
With nothing more to do than sit here, she began to sing.
She’d sung her whole life. It was a sacred tradition amongst the priestesses. Not only did they sing to amuse themselves in the cold dark tunnels of their temples, but their strident songs were also used as a warning.
She could reach the kind of shaking pitch that could not only shatter glass but echo through a room and steal anyone’s attention.
Long ago, when priestesses were still used to control the Rest, they would sing as a warning. Their haunting melodies would play through the cities and forests of Avixa whenever they were on the hunt.
So now she sung.
She chose a powerful but haunting melody the priestesses used to drive away the darkness.
As she sang, every low note rumbled through the floor as every high note echoed through the cramped darkened tunnel.
Though there were a few strips of bare illumination running down the floor and ceiling of her access shaft, some of the lights were malfunctioning. They kept flicking on and off, plunging her into ever longer periods of darkness, until finally they blinked out entirely.
That left her alone in the dark, singing to herself as blood pooled over her legs and arms.
She wasn’t distressed. It would take more than that to scare her.
Still, one unsettling thought did play through her mind.
There were five other Avixans onboard the Mandalay… and she was the only priestess.
…
Lieutenant Hunter McClane
He half-crouched, half-ran through the access tunnel. Technically, a comlink should be at regular intervals, but he couldn’t find one.
He was running out of time.
As another expletive cracked for him stiff lips, he threw himself around a corner.
He spied a med station. Throwing himself at it, he yanked open a panel and grabbed the small flexi box within.
Then he searched around for a comlink.
Nothing.
He hesitated. He could head back to Ava or try to find the link.
She was injured pretty badly, even if she wasn’t prepared to admit that. That gash could have nicked a vein, and right now she could be bleeding out….
A cold sweat prickled across his brow and down his neck, slicking between his shoulder blades as an even colder sensation settled in his heart.
He had to make a decision. As a lieutenant, there was only one choice he could rationally make. Go and warn B’cal that there could be a critical flaw with the lifts.
Still, it was the hardest thing to force his adrenaline-fueled body to leave Ava behind.
He may have decided he hated her only a half hour ago, but he couldn’t let her bleed out….
There was only one decision he could make, goddammit.
He pushed off down the narrow access tunnel, the med kit still held in one sweaty hand, his chest filling with cold dread.
For a woman he’d just met, Ava filled his mind as he forced himself forward.
He had no idea how much time passed. The access tunnels were a warren. They were missing most of the basic gear you’d expect in a top-of-the-line ship like the Mandalay.
When he was out of here and Ava was fine, he told himself, he was going to have a stiff word with his brother.
This ship was not ready to launch.
He held onto that idea as he pushed forward, winding through narrow tunnel after narrow tunnel. He even came across sections where the paneling that usually held back the wiring and innards to the ship were missing.
With every shuffling footstep, his heart beat harder and harder until he felt it vibrating into his jaw.
“Come on, you bastard,” he screamed into the tunnel, voice punching and echoing through the narrow confines, “Where the hell is that comlink?”
The minutes ticked by, the dread winding so hard around his stomach it felt as if it would cut him in half.
Finally, he found an exit hatch.
He jammed a sweaty thumb into the release button, but it slipped off.
Grunting and jerking down, he locked a hand next to it, wiped his fingers on his pants, and tried to open in again.
It beeped back in a dull tone. A tone that meant it too wasn’t operational.
Striking it with a curled fist and letting out a bellow of anger, he dropped to his knees so hard it sent an aching jolt sinking into his hips.
He yanked the large panel open. Behind it was a manual release lever. It would operate even if half the electrics on this goddamn ship wouldn’t.
He grabbed the lever and pumped it backward and forward until the hatch opened.
Then he spilled out into the corridor with all the force of water breaching a dam.
He spied Lieutenant Commander Shera.
She looked up at him, surprised. “Lieutenant, what’s the matter?”
“Not enough time to explain. Get on the line to B’cal. Tell him there’s a critical flaw with the lifts’ safety protocols. They all have to be taken offline until they can be checked.” As soon as he blurted out his warning, he twisted on his foot, boot skidding over the polished metal floor, and he threw himself back in the tunnel.
“Where are you going?” Shera insisted.
“Back to get Ava. She’s injured.” He’d dropped the med kit on the ground by the hatch, and now he jerked down and picked it up, pressing it protectively against his chest.
Shera didn’t react.
As he practically vaulted back into the narrow access tunnel, he turned to glance at her.
Her expression had that exact same edge he’d seen on the bridge.
What the hell was her problem with Ava?
Whatever it was, right now he didn’t care. “Just warn B’cal and inform Harvey – I mean the Captain about the issue. Tell him where we are. I’ll do what I can for Ava – send a med team.” With that, he twisted and began shuffling back down the crouched tunnel.
He left the hatch door open, and though his steps were hurried and his breath ragged and panting, he heard when Shera finally turned and walk away.
She didn’t run.
She just walked.
He didn’t have time to wonder what she was doing. Instead, he flung himself forward.
He’d memorized the route back to her. He wasn’t lying when he said this place was a warren – there were so many interconnecting tunnels it was like being stuck down a mine shaft.
Worse – half the lighting didn’t work. Occasionally he’d enter whole sections that were as black as night.
He’d memorized enough unique features to guide him. He threw himself around every corner until finally he reached a closed blast door.
She had to be behind it.
The blast door had a release panel on his side, and he jammed a shaking hand over it.
Thankfully it worked.
The door swished open.
And out tumbled Ava.
She’d obviously been sitting with her back against it. She flopped down in front of him, her surprised face staring up into his, her loose hair splaying around her face like a halo.
On any other day, her expression would have been funny. Today, he looked past her surprise and saw the blood blossoming over her uniform.
He’d underestimated her injury.
She?
??d already lost a heck of a lot of fluid.
“Shit,” he swore as he grabbed up the kit and tore it open. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she managed as she pulled herself up.
Immediately he locked a hand on her shoulder and forced her to stay still. “You’ve lost too much blood.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted as she shrugged off his hand and sat.
It was a miracle she was still conscious, let alone able to move.
He fumbled through the kit, casting away useless supplies until he reached the spray-on skin.
He grasped the slim metal device with shaking hands and tenderly pulled her arm up.
She didn’t wince; she just looked at him evenly.
“Sorry I took so long. This ship’s a warren,” he mumbled in a nervous voice as he sprayed the skin right over her injury. Technically he should remove the excess blood first, but he wasn’t thinking. His brain was a haze of adrenaline.
“It’s alright. I kept myself amused.”
He couldn’t help but let out a curt chuckle. “How exactly did you do that while bleeding out over the floor?”
“I sang to myself.”
One lip half curled as he finished applying the skin. Then he snatched up the medi scanner. “You’ve lost a lot of fluid—”
She reached past him and picked through the kit with her good hand. She selected a syringe and a few metal vials.
“You need to hold still—”
“I know how to fix myself up,” she said offhand, still never wincing or recoiling from the agony he knew she’d be in.
Before he could stop her, she’d injected herself with a mixture of the vials.
Almost instantly the color returned to her cheeks, and, more importantly for her race, her eyes.
Her iridescent purple eyes.
They were startling, just like all other Avixans. They didn’t quite work with her, though. Maybe it was her flame red hair or her complexion, but they looked out of place.
Meva’s eyes, on the other hand, never failed to take his breath away. Crystal clear blue, they looked like sapphires lit up with fire.
His stomach clenched as he thought of his girlfriend, and he had no idea why.
Ava experimentally moved her damaged hand up and down but didn’t appear able to shift her fingers.
“We need to get you to the med bay, ASAP.” He locked a hand on her shoulder and looked right into her eyes, worried gaze darting over her face.
She looked right back at him.
She had a strange kind of silent, watchful stare. It put him in the mood of a shepherd standing upon a hill and watching its flock.
“Shera should be sending a med team in to find us. We just need to sit tight—”
Ava began to move. Somehow she pushed to one knee then the other. Her whole front was covered in blood.
As fear clutched his gut, he realized he’d got here just in time.
She swept the contents of the med pack back into is flex box, locked it to her side with her good arm, then began shuffling forward. “Where’s the nearest exit? Do you think it’s worth trying this direction, or retracing your steps?”
“Didn’t you hear me? I said Shera’s sending help.”
Ava turned from him, her messy hair obscuring her expression. “I’m fine to get myself out of here.”
“Ensign,” a growl caught his voice, “This is an order – you’re staying still.”
“I think it’s wiser to push on. I’m not that injured anymore. Plus, how are they going to find us?”
He snapped his mouth open to repeat his order but stopped.
She had a maddening point.
“I doubt internal sensors work properly in this section yet – otherwise we’d have been swarmed with help the second our lift exploded. And I’m fine to keep going.” She demonstrated her point by shuffling forward, her injured arm still locked against her chest. “Judging by the fact this tunnel had a blast door, I’m guessing there’s an exit in this direction,” she mumbled to herself.
Reluctantly, he pushed off, negotiating around the significant puddle of blood she’d left next to the blast door.
He caught up to her as she determinedly shuffled down the tunnel, wrapped an arm around her back, and looped her good arm over his shoulder.
“I can walk,” she pointed out. “My legs aren’t affected.”
“Stop being brave,” he snapped back, though his words were quick, not unkind. “You’ve lost too much blood. Ensign. Let me help you.” He flicked his gaze down to her.
Slowly, she nodded.
It was a peculiar move. Despite how haggard she looked, it was regal. Graceful.
It was awkward shuffling side-by-side, and his leg kept banging against the wall of the shaft as he gave her as much room as he could.
Soon they made it to a hatch.
She’d been right. Again. They’d barely had to travel twenty meters to find it.
He propped her against the wall as he dropped hard to his knees and skidded over to the hatch controls.
He jammed a thumb into them, and this time they worked.
The hatch swished open.
She ducked her head down and jumped out before he could stop her.
Though she wobbled on her feet, she didn’t fall.
If it had been him, he’d have fallen all the way back against that blast door.
Ava might have been physically weak, but he was starting to realize she made up for that in spades with resilience.
That didn’t stop him from vaulting out of the tunnel and securing an arm around her back. “You’ve got to be careful,” he chided.
“I’m fine,” she insisted in a light tone, though she didn’t turn to him.
She looked distracted.
He could bet it wasn’t fatigue or pain distracting her, too. Ever since he’d mentioned coming across Shera, Ava had looked bothered by something.
He wanted to ask what the heck was going on between them, but he knew he’d get no answer.
Even Meva would never breathe a word about the Avixans.
As they turned another corner, they came across two crewmembers.
“Thank god,” he spat. “Are you guys the medics?”
The two crewmembers turned. It was Shera and Meva.
He was too relieved to care. “Christ, did you call the med bay? Where are the medics? Has B’cal been warned?” his words spilled out of his mouth like blood from a broken artery.
He was just so goddamn relieved this was over.
Ava stiffened. With his arm still locked around her back, he could feel every single one of her muscles contract. It was like she turned to stone.
He caught a glance of the side of her face and watched her cheeks pale to alabaster white.
Meva didn’t even look at Ava. “Hunter? What the hell happened to you?”
“I’m fine. I just need a goddamn medic. When will they get here?”
“B’cal and his engineers are on the way,” Shera informed him in a professional tone.
“That’s great, but where’s the medic?” He knew he was being too informal. Shera was his superior. Call it adrenaline or the fact Ava’s blood was covering his arm and side, but he needed to get her to the med bay. Now.
“We’re facing some difficulties with internal communications,” Shera pointed out in that same professional tone.
Ava shifted away from him. At first, it was subtle. Then she broke his grip.
She took a step back, flicked her hair to the side, and stood on her own.
As he turned to ask what the heck she was doing, he caught sight of her expression.
It was… he couldn’t describe it. Or maybe he could. He’d seen that look before. Just not on the face of a junior ensign.
It was the kind of determined hard-edged stare an admiral would give their enemy. “I’m fine to walk to the med bay on my own.” With that, she turned and walked down the hall, the bloody treads of her boots leaving footprints on the smoo
th polished floor.
“Hey, what are you doing?” he called, skidding as he turned to follow her.
“The Ensign appears fine,” Shera pointed out. “Right now, it’s of greater importance that you show us exactly where the problems occurred with the lift. Take us to the direct section of tunnel – we can’t currently pick it up on internal sensors.”
He stood there. Amazed. Was Shera just going to ignore Ava? Sure, maybe there was bad blood between the two, but Shera knew protocol, and this wasn’t it.
Maybe Shera could guess what he was thinking, because she angled her regal head backward and gave him the kind of stare a subordinate could not ignore. “It’s a priority that we track down any issues with the lift system. Ensign Ava is physically fine. It may not seem that way, Lieutenant. But understand that I am Avixan, and I am more familiar with our biology than you are.”
That statement humbled him and yet pissed him off at the same time.
“Now, show us the problem with the lift,” Shera said with a curt nod, direct stare making it clear it was an order, not a suggestion.
He took a deep grounding breath. It was that or spin on his foot, disobey a direct order, and run after Ava.
“Lieutenant,” Shera prompted.
“Fine.” Hunter turned around and led them back to the hatch. As he did, he couldn’t stop from staring at Ava’s bloodied footprints.