Born of Fire

Still, she couldn’t stand to see a defenseless man beaten and just do nothing. How did Traysen manage to look so stoic?

Finally, the enforcers released the chains on Syn’s legs and pulled a pair of pants on him. With his legs free, he renewed his fight with vigor and determination. While he struggled with the guards, he was thrown back against the glass and Shahara saw the fresh lash wounds crossing his back. The raw skin and blood . . .

Bile rose in her throat.

When they turned him around to unchain his hands and recuff them behind his back, she couldn’t stifle the gasp. Bruises and blood covered his face. He’d been beaten so severely, he could barely open his left eye, but when he finally saw her standing there, he rushed for her.

“Varisha, espolin krava!”

Traysen shielded her with his body. Shahara didn’t know the language Syn used, but she was certain he wasn’t giving her a “hi, how you doing? Good to see you again” greeting.

The enforcers clubbed him with their staves until he stopped moving.

“Take him to my ship,” she ordered, trying to act like none of it bothered her. But inside, she died a little every time they struck him, and her conscience took hold with steely, unforgiving claws.

One guard seized his feet while the other carried him by his shoulders.

“Here.” Traysen handed her a small injector gun.

“What’s this?”

“It’ll help revive him when you get where you’re going.”

“Is it adrenaline?”

“No, it’s seranac.”

She arched a brow at that. Seranac was a potent drug that worked on the hippocampus and frontal cortex. An interrogation med, it loosened memories and blurred a person’s ability to separate the past from the present. It also caused hallucinations, since the person couldn’t tell one from the other and could become caught up in the past and think that it was happening in the present. And since it held a stimulant to it, it could be most dangerous for all involved.

Usually the person was held down when it was administered.

“Don’t you have something a little safer?”

“Not here I don’t, and it is much safer than adrenaline—can you imagine him on that?” He shuddered and indicated the injector with a jerk of his chin. “That’s the only thing I have that can revive him. But don’t worry. It’s a small dose. It won’t last for more than a few minutes—just enough to get him inside some place and he’ll be unconscious again.”

He had a point about the adrenaline. With a nod, she slid it into her pocket and followed the guards.

The walk out of the facility seemed to take forever. Each minute, she half expected someone to rush toward them and demand both their heads.

Luckily, it never happened and, at long last, they reached the landing bay.

The guards roughly dumped Syn into the back of her fighter. The tallest of them also took a moment to add a couple more blows to Syn’s unconscious body before leaving.

“That’s for cutting me, you rank bastard dog,” he snarled. As he turned to face her, Shahara noted the long jagged cut along his jaw that Syn must have given him.

While beaten and chained . . .

You are so dead when he wakes up.

With a trembling hand, she took her copy of the forged transfer orders and climbed aboard.

She half expected Syn to lunge for her again, but she realized he was still unconscious. Breathing a sigh of relief, she hoped he stayed that way until she could get him home and tend to some of his wounds. The last thing either one of them needed was a fight that would only hurt him more.

She shook her head in regret. How had she come to this pass?

How had she turned a man over to these beasts? Even if he was a convict, he didn’t deserve this.

Her mother would be so disappointed. And if the truth were known, she was more than just a little disappointed in herself.

But worse than her guilt was the question of what he’d do when he woke up and found himself back in her home?

What kind of vengeance would he seek?

Well, she’d fought worse, she supposed, but something inside denied it. She’d never gone up against anyone who could handle a beating so well.

Her heart heavy with dread, she programmed in the coordinates and launched.

It didn’t take more than a couple of hours to return to her home.

Uncuffing his hands and getting Syn out of her ship was no easy task. “Gah, could you be any larger?” As she moved to help him out, she realized he was burning with a fever.

Great, just great. She struggled to pull his huge form from her backseat.

It was useless. She was going to have to use the drug even though something told her it would be a stupid thing to do.

But if she didn’t, she’d have to leave him in her ship, which would have some busybody calling the enforcers on her.

“Suck it up.” She pulled the injector out and shot him in the arm. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad and he had happy childhood memories.

Not with your luck, babe.

It took several minutes before it revived him.