“Janwar,” Kova said somewhere behind her, his voice grim.
Boots tromped on the floor of the corridor.
A gentle hand closed around her arm and drew her to a halt as Janwar appeared before her. Bending his knees, he crouched in front of her until their eyes were on the same level. “Simone? What is it?” He brushed damp hair back from her forehead. “Is it your wounds?”
She managed to give her head a weak shake. “W-what did you do to me?” Just speaking left her breathless. “What w-was in the blood you gave me?”
“Nothing.” When he pressed his palm to her forehead, alarm flared in his reddish-brown eyes. “She’s burning up,” he whispered to someone hovering beside them.
Too tired to look and see who it was, Simone shook her head. “P-poisoned me.”
“No. We didn’t poison you. I vow it.” His expression was so earnest that she almost believed him, but her body said otherwise.
“Bullshit.” She tried to shove him aside and merely grew more alarmed by how weak she’d become.
Janwar gripped both her arms now, the only thing—she feared—keeping her from face-planting on the floor. “I swear to you, I only gave you Elchan’s blood. The chief medic on the Ranasura told us Segonian blood was safe for Earthlings.”
“Lies,” she murmured. “All lies.”
“He had no reason to lie.”
“Not him. You.” Her damn head chose that moment to loll forward of its own accord and press her forehead to his. Simone stared blearily into the wide eyes so close to hers. “You lied to me,” she whispered.
“What’s happening?” another male voice murmured.
Before Janwar could answer, nausea inspired by the dizziness opted to make its presence known more forcefully.
Simone gagged.
Swearing, Janwar spun her away from him, looped an arm around her waist, and swept her hair back just in time for her to vomit what was left of the Lasaran MREs she’d consumed earlier.
Agony shot through her back, but she was too busy heaving up her lunch to cry out.
Once her stomach was empty, she hung limply in Janwar’s arms.
When someone offered her a canteen of water to rinse her mouth with, she shoved it aside. She’d trusted them once. She wouldn’t do so again.
“Drek this,” Janwar muttered and swung her into his arms. “Srok’a, stay with Krigara and get whatever information you can from the Gathendiens. Kova, you’re with me. We’re going back to the Tangata.”
The lights in the corridor’s ceiling pierced Simone’s eyes as they swept past overhead. Janwar could move quickly when he wanted to.
A shiver racked her form even as heat flayed her from the inside.
Her lids lowered. It took a Herculean effort to raise them once more, then a few blinks to focus her cloudy gaze enough for her to realize she was cradled on Janwar’s lap inside the transport. Had she passed out?
He rattled off a bunch of commands infused with concern that must be feigned, though she didn’t know why he bothered. She was entirely at his mercy, a place she had never thought to be again after her transformation. No poisons on Earth affected her. No illnesses did either, aside from the genetically engineered virus that lent her preternatural strength and speed. She never caught colds. She never sickened with the flu. She hadn’t sneezed once since she’d become an Immortal Guardian and—if asked—would’ve thought vomiting impossible for one of her ilk.
Her eyelids grew so heavy she gave in and closed them once more.
“We’re almost there,” Janwar murmured, resting his cheek atop her head.
He was such a likable guy.
It was too bad he’d betrayed her.
Sighing, she gave herself over to darkness.
CHAPTER FOUR
As soon as the transport’s ramp lowered, Janwar took off running with Simone cradled in his arms. When she had lost consciousness on the short trip back, he’d panicked for a moment, believing her dead. But her chest still rose and fell with shallow breaths.
Kova raced along beside him as they headed for the Tangata’s nearest med bay.
Elchan and Soval waited inside.
“Is she dead?” Elchan asked, eyes wide as they fixed upon her limp form.
“No.” Janwar lay her on a treatment bed. “I think she’s having an adverse reaction to the blood we transfused her with.”
Elchan blanched. “The Segonian medic said my blood was safe.”
“He lied,” Janwar growled. “Run a scan to confirm it and show us the damage it’s doing. Kova, get me that drekking medic on the Ranasura, full encryption.”
“On it.” Kova crossed to a console on the other side of the bay and started tapping in commands. A transparent screen rose above the counter and hovered in front of him.
Soval stepped forward. “What do you want me to do?”
“Get back to the bridge and keep an eye out for anyone the Gathendiens may have summoned. We don’t need any more surprises right now.”
Soval nodded and left Med Bay.
Anger pulsing through him, Janwar paced as a mechanical arm descended from the ceiling and held a wand over the top of Simone’s head. A band of light illuminated her hair, then slid down her face as the diagnostic tool moved above her, slowly making its way down her body.
Halting, Janwar brushed her hair back from her face. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. He’d trusted the Segonians to deal honestly with him, and now she was suffering for it. He knew not to trust anyone he hadn’t thoroughly vetted. He should have double-checked the information given him with Taelon instead of just taking the Segonians at their word. The Lasaran Prince always dealt honestly with Janwar.
“This is Kova of the Tangata, contacting you on behalf of Commander Janwar,” his friend stated grimly. “Connect us to your chief medic immediately.”
“If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll see if he—”
“We don’t have a minute! Connect us to the drekking medic!” Kova snarled.
Janwar didn’t hear the other man’s mumbled response.
“What if it’s just my blood?” Elchan asked shakily amid the silence that fell.
Janwar glanced up. “What?”
Face pale, Elchan swallowed hard. “If Segonian blood is safe for Earthlings, what if mine…?”
What if his wasn’t? What if his differences didn’t only extend to those that were easily discerned in his appearance? Was that his concern? Did he think there might be something unique in his blood that could’ve harmed Simone?
“No,” Janwar told him. “It wasn’t you. It was that drekking medic. He lied to us.”
As if referring to him solidified the contact, the Segonian medic’s face abruptly appeared on the transparent screen floating above the console. “Chief Medic Adaos responding,” he announced blandly.
And for some reason, that made the rage building inside Janwar explode. “You mother drekker!” he growled and stalked toward the image, wishing he were speaking to the medic in person instead so he could throttle him. “You lied!”
Adaos’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“You lied! You said Segonian blood was safe for Earthlings! You said using it in transfusions wouldn’t harm them!”