Gabriel's Ghost (47 page)

“There are no others.”

“We saw them—”

“You saw what I wished you to see.”

I made the next strut, took my gaze off Talard for a moment to stare at Gabriel. With a voice and tone like that he could get himself crowned Emperor.

A gray mist swirled up by his side, took vaguely human form, dissolved. I was close enough to see Talard shift nervously in his stance.

“Then you must have those datatabs. That makes it easy.” Lazlo’s arm jerked from the recoil as his laser pistol fired.

Gabriel surged up, wings forcing downward. Berri swung her rifle, shouting. Lazlo grabbed for her, dragged her to the floor as Philip’s laser pistol whined. Lazlo rolled and fired overhead.

I couldn’t see Gabriel. But he was alive. I could feel that. I clung to that.

Talard moved but so did I, darting, laser fire sizzling behind me.

Berri struggled against Lazlo, thrashed him with her fists. “He’s mine! The demon’s mine to kill!”

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He hit her with the Carver, hard. Her face twisted in pain. He shoved her away from him. She sprawled awkwardly on the floor, her rifle skidding back toward the pinnace.

Chasidah
! I felt a clear warning note from Gabriel.
Burke’s people. Side emergency hatch
.

Shit. Reinforcements. I was too far away to warn Philip without revealing my position. I had to take Talard out now.

Talard half-turned to his right, searching for the red glow of Philip’s target-lock. I dropped to one knee, clasped the Grizni. It vibrated ready, uncoiling with a snap into my palm. My eyes narrowed, focused. I whipped my arm forward. The blade shot from my fingers. It struck the middle of his chest.

He fell backward. I ran, Stinger out, and reached him as life flickered out of his eyes. I pulled the Grizni out, slapped it, still dirty with blood, around my wrist. Time. We had no time.

I heard the muted groan of an emergency hatch from the far wall. I grabbed Talard’s Carver, shoved it in the back of my pants.

Gabriel
?

Behind you
. The sound of boots thudded softly on the floor.

I spun around just as the hatch door clanged back against the bulkhead. Shadows streamed out. I lunged for Gabriel, shoved Talard’s Carver into his waiting hand.

He pushed me to the floor. “Down! Get down!” He was trying to warn Philip, on the far side of the pinnace, heading for Lazlo.

The air above my head screamed, flared. I fired toward the hatch. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Philip dive to the floor. And saw, as well, a shadow over my back. Gabriel’s wing, covering me.

He swung the Carver to the right, strafed the floor by the hatch.

Forms disappeared behind the cages and op-consoles.

“How many?”

Five. So far
.

Where’s Ren
?

Dealing with Burke’s people, close by
.

Movement churned on my right. Philip rising, going after Lazlo. Berri twisting on the decking, half-sobbing, half-screaming.

I shifted onto my elbows, tried to get a clear shot on Lazlo, partially hidden by a wide strut. I saw the profile of his Carver, saw the small glint of red, then his arm jerked up. Philip, kneeling, firing.

Lazlo’s body arced backward. Berri screamed. Lasers streaked through the air. Flashes of light sizzled, burst around Philip, prone on the decking. Gabriel fired, covering him.

Berri turned over onto her stomach. Blood dripped down the side of her face. She crawled with a slithering movement, trying to reach the rifle.

Philip angled up. Two forms sprang from behind the cover of the wall cage.

Watch Berri
! Gabriel fired. One form fell, the other jumped back.

I didn’t have a clear shot at Berri. But I did at her rifle. I hit it on the stock, splintering it, just as she caught sight of me in the shadows.

“Demon’s whore!” Her hair, matted with blood, fell in disarray about her face.

Three forms surged out of the darkness, firing, using the ops-consoles and cargo-stages for cover.

Keep them busy
.

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Gabriel angled up, splayed his hand in a wide sweep along the floor while I lay down cover fire. A mist arose from nowhere, from nothing, gelled into a boiling, writhing red mass. It surged toward a low cargo-stage.

Berri’s piercing voice carried clearly. “I curse you, Spawn of Hell! Soulless monster!”

A man jumped back toward the protection of the cargo stage. I heard Philip’s laser pistol whine. The man spun, fell.

Then an answering whine, close, too close. I tore my gaze from the boiling mist. Berri was on her knees, Lazlo’s Carver in her hands. She fired again, laughing.

Philip was on the ground, his body jerking from the laser’s impact.

A harsh cry rose in my throat. I fired, once, twice, again. All three, center mass. The Carver dropped from her hand and hit the floor a second before her body did.

One more attacker tried to flee Gabriel’s red mist, found the white laser fire more lethal. That left two. Against two of us. Philip…

Gabriel
? Ren, dying. Sully, breathing for him. I hurled that image, that plea to the man lying prone next to me.

Her first shot grazed him. But her second got him in the chest.
He hesitated.
I’ll try. Cover
me
.

I strafed the ops consoles and cargo stages. Gabriel ran under the pinnace toward Philip.

The two remaining attackers ducked down. I pushed myself to my feet, bolted after Gabriel. I could cover him best if I were in front of him. They’d have to shoot me first.

I crouched down, using the wide based struts for cover as Lazlo and Berri had when they’d pinned us against the opposite wall. Burke’s people were now farther to my left. There were a few blind spots, but they were small. If either moved from behind his cover, I’d get him.

One tried. I sent him scuttling back.

I could hear Philip’s breath rasping a few feet behind me. I wanted to turn, I wanted to know what was happening but couldn’t take my eyes off the two who were still alive and armed. Or the emergency hatchway, which could bring more of Burke’s people. If that happened, we wouldn’t survive.

Suddenly, something washed over me. Something warm, familiar. I kept my gaze locked but let it speak to me, in its wordless way. Recognized it.

Ren.
Ren
?

An affirmative sensation. Close. So close that—

The corridor door exploded into the control room. I raked the cargo stages with a barrage of fire. Forms plunged through the wide opening, firing where I did. Boots pounded into the shuttle bay. Thad’s voice shouted my name.

I spun around on my knees, not looking for my brother but to protect Gabriel. Sully. He had to be shielded from the squadrons of stripers pouring into the bay. From the Fleet Admin personnel at my brother’s side. All those who would hate him, damn him, because he was a
Kyi-Ragkiril
. A shape-shifter. A winged monster.

He knelt beside Philip’s form, his wings splayed wide. The gray mist, the
Kyi
, clung to him, and hovered over Philip. I quickly squatted across from him. Laser fire whined across the bay.

Philip’s gaze flicked briefly to my face. Gabriel had one hand on his chest, covering a large, bloodstained area. The other rested lightly at the base of this throat.

“Gabriel. Ren, Thad are here. Half of Marker.”

He nodded without looking at me.

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“Shift back. I don’t think they’ve seen you yet.”

He shook his head.
I can’t, yet. Besides, he’d die
.

Fear and anguish surged through me, colliding at my heart.
They’ll see you. Know what you
are
.

Risks, Chasidah. Risks
.

He’d said it in the temple on Moabar, just before he’d kissed me. All life’s a risk. Ren had reminded him of that, just before I’d learned Sully was a
Ragkiril
. Risks.

He kept taking them. They kept hurting him. But he kept taking them.

“How can I help?” My voice was barely a whisper.

Infinite, obsidian eyes met mine, briefly. He took his hand from Philip’s throat, held it out.
Help me give him life. You can do that. You’re ky’sara to me
.

I moved next to him, clasping his hand, putting my fingers at Philip’s throat. I felt the
Kyi
flow through me, grow. Philip’s pulse fluttered under my fingers. Gabriel’s wing rested lightly against my back.

Breathe, Chasidah
.

I breathed.

Gabriel breathed.

Philip breathed.

Voices shouted, hard and angry. My brother’s voice was one. “Chaz! What in the hell...?”

I squeezed Gabriel’s hand, raised my gaze. “Get a med-tech, fast. Philip’s been shot.”

Thad barked the order at a uniformed woman behind him. She acknowledged. I heard other voices in harsh, hard whispers.

“A jukor! No, it’s human.”

“My God. A soul-stealer’s killed Captain Guthrie. We got to—”

Two large forms stepped forward. I knew their identities without raising my face. Ren. Verno. Warmth surrounded me, like a flow of water from a bubbling spring. Voices became quieter, backed away.

I breathed.

Gabriel breathed.

Philip breathed. His eyes slitted open again, focused on me.

I felt his questions, fear. “Thad’s bringing the med-techs. You’ll be fine.”

Loud boots and the discordant hum of an anti-grav stretcher came closer. Ren backed away and two new pairs of boots came into my field of vision. “Holy brother of God!” A blue-coated med-tech dropped to his knees across from me, ran the medi-stat over Philip’s body. “Impossible! He’s—”

“Alive.” Gabriel’s voice was raspy. “It’s your job to keep him that way.”

Two more blue-coats knelt down, scanning, probing, hooking Philip to their machines. They lifted him onto the stretcher.

Gabriel sat back on his heels, his shoulders hunched wearily, his wing heavy against my back. Wings that I’d seen on the bridge of the
Karn
, but had forgotten. I remembered them, now.

I clasped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his shoulder. He drew me tightly against him, sent warm but slightly ragged spirals through me. But another emotion, one that wasn’t his but was aimed at him, hovered on the edges.

Hatred. Fear. Revulsion. Med-techs, security guards, Thad’s officers. Hatred emanated from them like a thick, acrid smoke.

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This was Gabriel’s Hell. This was what he sensed every time he became what he was, what

he had no choice but to be. “Chaz!” Thad’s voice, harsh. Thad’s hand, yanking my arm. “Newscams, reporters—” Gabriel stood abruptly, jerking me to my feet with him. He grasped my wrists as my arms

fell from around his neck, held them tightly. He was shaking, something trembling through him like a jump-drive engine far out of synch. Dark energy shifted, moved, for the second time in one hour. Wings faded but slowly. And

judging from the tightness around his eyes, painfully. “Get us out of here,” Sully said roughly. Bright white lights suddenly flared to my left, blocking our exit to the corridor. Vidcam

lenses glinted. “The maintenance hatch, behind you,” Thad said. “Get back to my office.” We ran.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Morgan Loviti

It took us twenty minutes to carefully weave our way back to Thad’s office, Ren and Verno mirroring our moves. Another fifteen before Thad joined us. Sully was drained, unnaturally listless. Ren was close to his limit, needing water. Both dismissed my and Verno’s well-meaning concern, but Ren accepted a wet towel Verno brought out of the office sani-fac, and draped it around his neck.

It was another two hours, and several more changes of location on Marker, before we were transferred to the safety of the
Morgan Loviti
. We were greeted tersely by the ship’s chief of security, an older woman I didn’t know. She reminded me of Dorsie. I wondered if the jovial woman were still alive.

“Commander Bralford’s in sickbay with the captain,” she said, ushering us into the readyroom behind the bridge. “He suggested you might want to listen to this.”

She flicked on the room’s screen and left.

The public relations executive for Crossley Burke had issued a statement disavowing the corporation’s knowledge of, and involvement with, the ‘unfortunately but obviously mentally unstable Sister Berri Solaria, and their recently terminated security officer, Zabur Lazlo.’ I replayed the vidclip twice on the readyroom’s central screen. It was a beautifully crafted piece of obfuscation.

“His excuses are very believable. We may have underestimated him. ” Sully had his back to me and stared out the large viewport. His arms were crossed over his chest. I handed Ren one cup of tea from the replicator then rounded the long table to stand next to Sully. Wordlessly, he accepted the tea I held out to him, even though he’d denied wanting any ten minutes ago. He was obviously dismayed by Hayden Burke’s aggressive response.

But I knew he was also unsettled by the reaction to his true form in the shuttle bay. Angered, and hurt, by those who saw him as a despicable demon, in spite of the fact he’d saved Philip’s life, pushing himself, I realized, to the very limits of his human and
Ragkiril
strength to do so.

I wrapped my fingers around his arm, squeezed.

He sent warmth but no words. Still struggling.

“They’ll change their song when the truth comes out, Sully-sir.” With his long legs and arms, Verno overflowed the high-backed chair. “Captain Guthrie’s position on the council will see to that.”

Sully didn’t answer but his mouth tightened at the mention of Philip’s name. Philip knew far more about
Ragkirils
and
Kyi-Ragkirils
than Sully was comfortable with.

“You saved his life,” I said, softly, hoping he’d see that Philip was indebted to him. Surely my ex-husband would reconsider his prejudices. As Thad had pointed out earlier in his office, the Guthries were nothing if not a highly moral family.