Angels and Ministers of Grace Read online

  It took much more concentration, but even as focused as she was, motion at the edge of her vision caught her attention. With distracted interest, Anya glanced up at the ventilation shaft before she felt the dart that had driven into her neck. It was the prick of pain and the terrifying wave of cold spreading out from her throat that made her realize with sudden sharp clarity that they'd walked into a trap.

  "Jason!" she gasped, reaching out with an arm that was turning into a block of ice. The world began to run like watercolors as he spun in slow motion, catching her as she fell. He seemed the only solid thing left in the universe, but even he was turning gray and she couldn't feel his arms around her. Before he disappeared entirely, she tried her best to express the overwhelming panic that griped her. If this was a trap then… "The girls!"

  But his face was lost in blackness, and Anya drowned in dark and despair.

  Chapter 11

  Jason had never been so grateful to have Frank by his side as he was then. Catching Anya as she fell and seeing the dart that had gone through the hood into her flesh caused a paralytic fear to close his throat and wrap bands of pain around his chest. Nothing mattered except lowering her to the ground so that he could free an arm and check her pulse. When he felt the flutter under his fingertips, breathing was again possible, and he looked up to see that Frank had taken control. The ventilation shaft had already been bared and the mechanism that had shot the dart neutralized.

  "Remote controlled," Frank snapped when he saw Jason looking at him. "I've got all teams searching the area for the son-of-a-bitch."

  "She's alive, but I don't know for how long." He heard the pained rasp in his own voice, but ignored it and Frank's sharp look, scooping Anya into his arms. The dart dislodged as he did so and fell to the floor with a clink. "Get an analyzer on that thing. I want to know everything about it, where it came from, what was in it, who last touched it."

  Frank snapped his fingers at one of the guards before falling into stride next to Jason as they moved at a fast clip down the corridor.

  "Cover this place like a blanket, Coop. Look for more of those traps. Try to get a trace on that remote signal. Maybe he's still watching. And check on the other women. Make sure he didn't try to get to them, too."

  "I'm all over it, Jace." He did a quick spin on one heel and snapped orders behind Jason's back. "You, you, and you! Follow him. Threshold detail, report! I want physical confirmation—get in there and eyeball 'em!"

  His voice faded as Jason trotted in the opposite direction with the guards trailing him. They caused a bit of a scene when they came into the lever hopper junction, but Jason barely noticed, diving into an empty tube with Anya in his arms. Her face was bloodless and limbs completely limp. He couldn't remember ever feeling this terrified. "Medical! This is Lieutenant Commander Salvatore. We have an emergency."

  "Location?"

  "We're at juncture seven in tube four, just passing level eight. I'm bringing her to you."

  "What's the nature of the emergency?"

  "I have a woman who's been hit in the neck with a dart. There was an immediate reaction. She collapsed in seconds. She has a pulse, but it's light and irregular."

  "The dart?"

  "It's being analyzed now."

  "We'll meet you."

  The communicator in his ear clicked to indicate an end of transmission, and he shifted Anya in his arms to check her pulse again. Still there, but harder to find. He swore under his breath.

  "Sir? Is she going to be okay?"

  Glancing up, Jason became aware of all three of the guards crowding around him. He was startled to see the very personal anxiety on their faces. Apparently she'd made quite an impression on his people.

  "Don't know," he muttered and shoved past them as the doors opened.

  He could see a medical team hurrying towards him as he stepped out. They were pushing an anti-grav bed along in front of them, and he laid Anya on it when he reached the group. Without ceremony, they pushed him out of the way and swarmed around the bed, running back towards the medical unit as they began their work. Jason was right on their heels.

  As they plunged into the medical bay, a large man stopped their headlong flight with a casual flick of one hand. He was Doctor Wesley Bradshaw, head of the station's medical department, though he looked more like a cross between a mad scientist and a linebacker with his wild, wispy hair and huge, muscular frame. With an easy calm that spread like a cool balm around him, he bent over Anya, doing a quick hands-on physical before he resorted to the medical scanners.

  In a surprisingly soft voice for such a big man, he began giving orders, and his people started zipping around the medical bay in orderly chaos. In seconds, Anya was ensconced in a med bed, enfolded by scanners and medical contraptions until Jason could barely see her. Banished to a spot by the door, he and the guards looked on as the med team fought for her life.

  After what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes, Dr. Bradshaw approached Jason with an easy smile. "Lieutenant Commander, you've brought me quite a puzzle."

  "How is she?"

  "She'll be just fine, which is the puzzle."

  Jason was suddenly lightheaded with relief and frowned to hide it from the doctor. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, I gather that she was not darted by accident, yes?"

  "She's been under my protection. Someone is threatening her." He didn't want to explain too much—if people knew there was a rogue telepath running around the station, it could cause panic.

  "So we should assume that this was an attempt on her life."

  "Yes. What are you driving at?"

  "The substance that was given to her was a poison, but there wasn't enough to kill her. Well, maybe if you'd left her lying about for another quarter hour… Perhaps the person trying to kill her didn't think anyone would be around to bring her medical attention?"

  "No, she's been under my care for some time. There's no way she'd go anywhere without us."

  "That's the puzzle, then. Why give her just enough to make her collapse, but not enough to kill her?"

  With a sudden stab of intuition, Jason activated his communicator. "Coop! What's the status on the safe zone?"

  "There was an attempt on the women, but we got to them in time."

  "How the hell is that possible?"

  "He didn't come himself, if that's what you're asking. There was an automated gas-release cartridge in the ventilation shaft. Before you ask—yes, the security screens were working, but the thing was smaller than a bug and snuck by."

  "Current status?"

  "All green. The gas has been vented, and the shafts have all been scanned to the millimeter. The ladies are a little shaken up, but okay. How's Anya?"

  "She's going to be fine. What was the gas?"

  Frank named a substance only an assassin would use, so deadly that a few molecules would be enough to kill a person. Whatever else the telepath had done, he had meant to kill her friends.

  "Good work, Coop. Let them know she's okay, will you?" When he assented, Jason went on, "Anything on the dart or the search? Was there anything left in the dart?" Maybe it hadn't ejected all the poison into Anya.

  "Nope, dart was drained. We're working on a distributor and manufacturer now. DNA scan turned up nothing on the dart or the ejector. He must not have handled them much or cleaned 'em before use. Scans and search turned up nothing, and we were quick, Jace. My guess is he wasn't anywhere near the place when he set it off."

  "Thanks, Frank. Keep me posted and send a couple more bodies down here, will you?"

  "Will do."

  The doctor had wandered off while Jason had spoken to Frank and had directed his people to move Anya into a recovery room. With terse orders to the guards, Jason sent them to watch the corridor and the room while he sought out the doctor.

  "How long is she going to be in here?"

  "She's going to be unconscious for at least several hours, but I need to keep her for observation and regular testing
for a day or two. I need to be sure that the poison is completely gone from her system and that there'll be no complications."

  Distracted from his original intent in searching out the doctor, Jason frowned at the man. "What complications?"

  "Well, I don't know. The human body is a rare and wonderful thing, and no two react the same."

  Jason had the distinct impression that the doc was avoiding a real answer, and he could see by the bland expression on the man's face that he wasn't going to get one either. Shaking his head, he focused on the job at hand with an effort.

  "Sorry to do this to you, Dr. B, but she still needs protection. Your people are going to have to check in with security on their way in and out of this med bay. Also, I'm going to have to restrict access to her—whoever you feel is best qualified. They'll be the only ones allowed in her room."

  "All of my people are qualified, Lieutenant Commander. I wouldn't have it any other way."

  "Just pick a couple and let me know which I can let in."

  "Whatever you feel is necessary, but I warn you, I won't have your people interfering while we work."

  A warning from this big man would have caused most people anxiety, but Jason wasn't most people. Though he admired the doctor's quiet control, he also had his priorities. "You do your job, and I'll do mine." Jason turned away to indicate the conversation was over and activated his communicator. He was peripherally aware of the doctor disappearing into Anya's room. "Captain Jamison."

  "Here."

  "We've run into problems." In a toneless voice, he outlined what had happened and answered the captain's questions. He tried his best to keep any emotion out of his voice and language, but she knew him too well to be fooled.

  "Stop blaming yourself, Jace. You did the best you could."

  "Obviously not or she wouldn't be in medical."

  The other guards sent by Frank arrived, and Jason broke off his conversation with the captain to give them their orders, arranging them around medical and Anya's room. Just as he'd gotten them positioned to his satisfaction, the doctor reappeared, an arrested expression on his face.

  "Lieutenant Commander? She's asking for you."

  "What? But you said—"

  "That she would be unconscious, I know. She isn't exactly awake either, but she did call your name. Whatever is bothering my patient is keeping her from resting as she should."

  Jason followed him into the room with mixed feelings. He desperately wanted to see her, but he was dreading it at the same time. The fierce clenching in his chest every time he looked at her in this place scared the hell out of him.

  Anya's face was still deathly pale, but she was not as lifeless as she'd been in his arms. Moaning, she turned her head from side to side before opening her eyes. She didn't seem to see any of them, the blue velvet of her eyes clouded and heavy lidded.

  Jason leaned over so that she would see only him. "Anya, can you hear me?"

  With sudden sharp focus, she stared up at him, a look of tortured concentration on her beautiful face. Her mouth worked for a second before any words came out. "J-Jason!"

  Her fingers plucked at his arm, and he took her hand in his almost without conscious thought. "You need to rest now. Doctor's orders."

  "Th-the girls…"

  With a sting of memory, he realized that she was fighting sleep because she was afraid for her friends. With good reason, it turned out. "They're fine. They're all right, and nothing's going to hurt them. I promise."

  Sudden tears turned her eyes into liquid jewels for a moment before her lids slid shut. With a sigh, her face and body relaxed into the bed. Jason watched a tear slide out from beneath her lashes and track a slow path to her temple with an ache in his chest. He hoped like hell he hadn't just lied to her.

  "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander. Seems you've got a great bedside manner."

  Stiffening, Jason straightened up from the bed. He'd forgotten anyone else was there, and he felt his skin heat with embarrassment, wondering what they'd seen on his face as he'd looked at her. Letting go of Anya's hand, he edged away from the bed. "Yeah, well… Let me know when she wakes up for real. I need to talk to her…"

  He trailed off and glanced over at the bed when Anya began moving again. There was a slight frown between her brows, and she mumbled something unintelligible without opening her eyes. When she whimpered, his feet moved him without volition to her side again and he touched her hand. "Anya?"

  She subsided immediately, and he stared down at her in dismayed confusion. Could she feel him even when she was unconscious? Was she calming down just because he was there?

  "Well, looks like you'll be staying."

  Jason looked up quickly to see a glint of humor in the doctor's eyes. The big man seemed to have reached the same conclusion. "What? No! I can't. I've—"

  "Sorry, but in this case, what the patient wants she gets." Bradshaw shoved a hover stool over to him. "Have a seat, Lieutenant Commander."

  "Look, I can't. I've got a hell of a mess to—" Jason tried moving away from the bed as he spoke, but stopped when Anya began to move restlessly again. Gritting his teeth, he stepped back over, and she quieted.

  "Seems pretty clear. Right now, your job and mine are the same. Sit." The doctor's tone became a deep command on the last word, and Jason could see that he wasn't going to take no for an answer. "We'll be back to check on her in a little while."

  Jason watched in helpless aggravation as the doctor and staff left the room. Turning his attention to the woman sleeping peacefully in the bed, he glared at her. "Do you always have to get your way?"

  Of course, there was no answer, not even a flicker of response. Slowly he sat on the stool, bobbing a little as it compensated for his weight.

  "That's what got us into this, you know. If you hadn't been so damned set on that stupid plan, none of this would've happened." He paused, studying her relaxed features with annoyance. "I'll wait 'till you're awake to say I told you so."

  With a sigh, he braced an elbow on the bed and propped his head in his hand, feeling his irritation slipping away as he watched her sleep. He tried to hold onto it, knowing he'd have to face other things if he didn't. Why had she calmed down with him near? It'd be a nice fantasy to think that she felt safe with him, but the reality was she probably just wanted someone that she knew present. Probably would've done the same thing with Frank. Or maybe one of the guards, since she'd spent time with some of them.

  It was a way out, but he didn't take it. The truth was he wanted to be here. He could watch over her, make sure she was safe… He grimaced and admitted to himself that his presence hadn't helped much so far.

  "You could've died, you stupid woman," he whispered, feeling his chest constrict again.

  She sighed softly and turned her head. The light caught the glimmer of a tear on her lashes, and Jason had the sudden urge to kiss it away, but managed to contain it by closing his eyes. Even asleep she was a danger to his senses, and he didn't have anger as a buffer between them this time.

  Then again, she also couldn't see what he was feeling, either in his face or inside him, and he could look his fill. The temptation was too much, and he opened his eyes, taking a careful breath as he let his gaze run over her face hungrily. It was no wonder they called her Angel—she looked like one lying there. The snowy waves of hair and her white eyebrows should have washed her out, especially after what she'd been through, but somehow they didn't. Even paler than normal, her skin held a warmth and smoothness that he couldn't remember ever seeing before on any woman. The lines of her face had a fragility that made his arms ache to hold her—the fine spray of silvery lashes, the high cheekbones and delicate jaw, the lush curve of her lips…

  Jason looked away with another careful breath. Looking his fill was turning out to be as uncomfortable as dealing with her awake. Shifting uneasily, he glanced around the little room before his eyes were drawn back to her. Unwilling to look into her face again, he focused his attention on the hand that was lying so
near. He remembered holding it earlier, but it seemed an injustice to him that he couldn't remember the texture of her skin. Temptation pulled at his fingers, and he gave in, running fingertips over the back of her hand. Her skin felt like silk. Sliding his hand under hers, he lifted it for closer examination, marveling at how small and delicate she felt in his grip.

  His throat closed as the realization struck him again. She really could have died, and he'd been helpless to stop it. Just like Peter—no, not like Peter. At least then he'd been light years away and hadn't known until after. Unlike what happened to his brother, he could have prevented what happened today just by saying no to that stupid-ass plan and locking her in. She might have forced someone to unlock it, but if he'd set it to open only for him…

  Jason suddenly realized what he'd done in comparing this situation to what had happened with Peter. It implied that his feelings for this woman went way beyond what he should feel for a charge he had to protect. Would he feel the same if it'd been one of her friends? Actually, it had been—they had come closer to dying than she had, if the doctor was to be believed about the amount of the poison in her bloodstream. When Coop had told him about the gas, he'd been frustrated that something had gotten through security and relieved that no one was hurt. He had not been devastated.

  Lifting her hand to his forehead, he sighed and closed his eyes to feel her cool skin against his. He was definitely in trouble, he thought, if he was letting a fixation get this bad. A little voice in the back of his mind tried to tell him that this was far greater than a fixation, but he pushed it away frantically. His life was complicated enough without adding unrequited—well anyway, his life was complicated enough.

  To distract himself from these disturbing thoughts, he contacted Coop and let him know the situation, getting an update from the lieutenant. They'd found two other traps with darts along the search route. The telepath was either very good at guessing or he'd read someone's mind to find out where Anya would be. They weren't active, though, so Frank hadn't been able to trace any signals back to the assassin.