“You did very well,” Dagon assured her. He was such a nice guy.
“Good. Because I really don’t think I have it in me to try again.” Staring through her helmet’s visor, Eliana took in the vast array of stars. “It really is beautiful up here,” she murmured. Seth usually stationed her in big cities where the twenty-four-hour lights and a haze of pollution obscured her view.
“Yes,” Dagon agreed.
She had two hours of oxygen left, and Dagon and his crew wouldn’t reach her for three more weeks. How could she possibly make so little oxygen last that long?
Only one possibility came to mind.
Dread filled her at just the thought of it, solidifying in her stomach like a block of ice. “Dagon?”
“Yes.”
“How familiar are you with these Lasaran spacesuits?”
“I’ve worn them many times during inter-Alliance training exercises.”
“How sturdy are they? Do they puncture easily?”
“No. They’re very difficult to perforate or tear.” Alarm entered his voice. “Why? Do you think yours is damaged?”
“No. I’m just… thinking out loud.”
She had been stationed in New York with a Russian immortal by the name of Stanislav for decades until a few years ago. When a mercenary group had gotten their hands on the vampiric virus and caused major upheaval in North Carolina, Seth had transferred Stanislav there to help. A big battle had ensued when the Immortal Guardians blitzed the mercenary compound, and all had believed Stanislav was killed in an explosion. Much to their astonishment and elation, however, a woman had found him two years later, buried in her basement.
And Stanislav had still been alive.
Because of their advanced DNA, Immortal Guardians didn’t die of extreme blood loss the way vampires did. Instead, they slipped into a state of hibernation not unlike a water bear until another blood source came along. The peculiar symbiotic virus had slowed Stanislav’s breathing and heartbeat to such an extent that he had survived on whatever tiny pocket of air had been allotted him beneath the soil for two years. His body had not decayed. His organs had not failed. He had been pretty emaciated when Susan had found him, but he had survived.
Eliana had never slipped into stasis before. The mere prospect of it terrified her. Stanislav was actually the only immortal she had ever met who had done so. One of the reasons Seth assigned Immortal Guardians mortal Seconds to watch over them and keep tabs on them was to prevent such from happening.
But what choice did she have? Just over two hours of oxygen had to last three weeks. Even a deep sleep had only stretched what amounted to a day’s worth of oxygen a full week.
She really wanted to live. But if she did this, if she forced her body to slip into stasis and the Segonians failed to find her…
“Dagon?”
“Yes,” he answered swiftly.
“Is this a secure line?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is there any chance the Gathendiens could be listening in?”
“No. Such would enable them to locate you, so we have taken measures to ensure they cannot intercept or listen to our communications with you.”
“Good.” Her heart began to pound with anxiety. “There’s one more thing I can try that may enable me to survive until you reach me. I haven’t done it before now because…” Because it scared the hell out of her. “It will leave me completely vulnerable.”
“More vulnerable than you are now?” She could almost see his brow furrowing as he said that.
“Yes. Right now I can wake and respond if you call to me. Or if the Gathendiens show up and bring me on board their ship, I can wake and might actually have a shot at defending myself. But if I do this, I’ll lose that ability.” She might be able to wake, but she would be too weak to do anything else. And she’d lose this connection with Dagon and would be truly alone. “Will you still come for me if I stop speaking to you?”
“Yes. Finding you and your fellow Earthlings is a top priority of all Alliance nations.”
“What if your superior or king or whoever changes his mind and tells you to call off the search?”
“On my honor, I vow I will come for you, Eliana.”
She believed him. “Janek?”
“Yes, Earthling?”
She chuckled. “You’re just calling me that to aggravate me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Earthling,” he responded, a smile in his voice.
“If you cut communication with me for ten minutes, will you be able to reconnect?”
“Yes.”
“You have no doubts?”
“None.”
“Okay. I need you to do that for me. Cut the connection so we can’t hear each other, then reconnect in ten minutes.”
Dagon spoke. “What is the purpose of this, Eliana?”
“There’s just… something I have to do. That’s all. I’ll talk to you again in ten minutes.”
Low Segonian conversation ensued.
Then Dagon said in English, “Cut the connection.”
“Yes, Commander,” Janek said. “In three, two, one.”
All sound ceased save her breathing. Eliana could no longer hear the murmurings and moving around on Dagon’s ship and felt a moment of panic.
“Don’t freak out,” she told herself. “They’ll be back in a few minutes. Just suck it up and get this done.”
She tried to steel herself for the pain to come. If her oxygen ran out, she’d die, so she had to slip into stasis fast. And the only way she knew to do that was through severe blood loss.
Holding her breath, she curled her right hand into a fist and drove it into her injured side.
She couldn’t help the cry of pain that escaped and was doubly glad Janek had cut communications. Warmth blossomed in her wound.
She repeated the action on her hip. More pain. More warmth. Then the telltale feeling of blood slipping down the outside of her thigh inside the suit.
Eliana gritted her teeth and really dug her knuckles into her side. “Shit!” she gasped. “This sucks!” But the blood flow increased. Her breathing grew labored as she repeated the action with her hip, reopening the wound the virus had sealed. Wave after wave of agony inundated her.
She stopped when she grew light-headed.
It had only taken a few minutes to get the blood flowing. She used the rest to try to get her harsh breathing under control so her voice wouldn’t betray her pain.
“This had better work,” she wheezed.
“Eliana?”
She damned near wept at the sound of Dagon’s concerned voice.
“I’m here.” She congratulated herself on sounding almost normal. “Has it been ten minutes already?”
A pause. “Yes.”
She laughed, then bit back a groan. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“It has only been seven minutes,” he admitted.
“You were worried.”
“Yes.”
She found a smile. “You remind me of Ami.”
“Who is Ami?”
“You probably know her as Amiriska.”
“The Lasaran princess?”
“Yes. How much have you heard about what happened to her?”