After some time, she became aware that she was being touched very gently and she opened her eyes in a panic, wondering her put their hands on her.
She met an old, kindly face. “Easy there, girl. I’m a doctor.” She tried to respond, but he shook his head. “Don’t talk, dear. Just let me finish.”
He looked her over, taking her vitals, his experienced hands comforting her while he took his readings.
Sasha’s mother stood nearby, tapping her foot. The moment the doctor stepped back, her mother spoke. “Well, what is it?”
“It’s nothing I’ve ever seen,” he admitted. “I’ve given her a couple of shots that would bring an elephant out of a coma, but they’ve had no effect. You say this happened after contact with the Preor?”
“Yes.” Her mother nodded. “It’s some kind of coercion,” she replied cattily.
“Then I strongly suggest you find a Preor healer. They will be able to do far more than me.”
“Not going to happen,” Jenna decreed flatly. “Their magic got us to this point. All they can do is make it worse. I’m not giving them another chance to hurt my daughter.”
The doctor waited patiently for Jenna to finish, packing up his instruments as she spoke. He patted Sasha’s hair and turned back to Jenna. “Miss Dane, in the short time I have been here, your daughter’s vitals have continued to fail. They are on a steady decline. Her heart and lungs will soon begin to slow. Her circulation is poor and her internal organs are suffering. She has no reflexes. I’m not sure you understand the seriousness of the situation. Sasha will die in a matter of hours if we can’t find what’s causing her illness.”
“What the fuck did I call you for?” Jenna screamed. “You were supposed to fix her! What is wrong with you, you undereducated quack! Get out!”
“Miss Dane—”
“Get the fuck out!”
The doctor looked down on Sasha, regret visible in his eyes. He tried one last time. “Would you consider moving her to a hospital?”
Jenna went to protest but then stopped. She stared at Sasha with narrowed eyes and she could almost see the wheels turning as her mother imagined the media circus that would occur if they wheeled Sasha out of the apartment building on a stretcher.
“I might,” she murmured thoughtfully, “but not right now.”
The doctor left. If Sasha had the strength, she would have clung to him and not allowed him to leave without her. When her mother arranged a few pillows behind her, she fell into the same trap again, believing her mother tried to comfort her.
“Thanks, Mom,” she whispered.
“Sweet, just lie back. That’s it. Wow, you’re so pale. Around your eyes you look kind of yellow. Fuck!” Jenna suddenly exclaimed.
“What?” Sasha rasped.
“The light is overexposing the image. It’s blanking out the jaundice. You look almost health for fuck’s sakes. Hey, can you do that barfy look again? I’m on the other side of the table so you won’t hit my suit if you throw up.”
Sasha blinked, feeling as if her body was very far away. The last few comments her mother made didn’t make sense and that was a blessing.
Sasha faded, the blessed darkness the only comfort left to her, and she embraced it with open arms.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Whelon sensed Sasha slipping away. He knew the moment she went beyond even dream consciousness into a far deeper darkness. His heart seemed to fail in that moment. Even if he could get to her now, could he save her?
Would that the heat of my fire could restore your life, he thought sadly. If my death could give you back your life, I would take my final flight right now.
There was a certain lure in taking the final flight, flying as far out of the atmosphere as possible and letting the vacuum of space draw him out, toward the great star. The spirals of far off galaxies would look like the light that slowly died in Sasha’s eyes.
“Whelon!” Penelope snapped. He barely even blinked.
“Get him up!” she shrieked. Even from his far away reverie, he knew that if she had any physical component that could move, she would have kicked him square in the ass.
Suddenly he was yanked upright by a great force. His wings flapped as he opened his eyes, fully believing Penelope had built a huge claw for herself so she could physically shake him.
When his feet hit the floor and the arm on his neck went away, he stared up into Vende’s stern gaze.
“Are you giving up?” the engineering master hissed. “Your mate is dying and you sit here napping like a dragonlet? Is your dragon born of fear and hobbling on weak bones?”
“No,” Whelon could barely speak and Vende shook his head again.
“My mate is down there, too, in the midst of this insanity!” He held in his voice to such an extent that the whisper was almost shrill enough to hit the sound barrier. Whelon knew Vende was about to lose it and if he didn’t hold back his dragon, he’d be dive-bombing Preor Tower in seconds.
“Vende—” he began, but to his shock, Vende punched him in the face.
It was a good hit, right in the jaw and smashing across the cheekbone. Whelon staggered and then gathered himself before charging after Vende. The roar he released echoed down the hallway and several Preor came running to pull them apart.
“Good job, Vende, you got him woken up,” Penelope praised.
“What?” Vende asked, confused.
“Shut up, I’m covering for you, you dick,” Penelope murmured.
Silence reigned for a few seconds as the two males glared at each other. Then they both nodded and stepped together to shake hands, only interrupted when Penelope made the sound of clearing her digital throat.
“Now, I can teleport you into Preor Tower. I can do it sneaky-like… I’ll have to draw a bit of power to send you into the tower, but Vende says the ship can take it. Hey, wait a minute…” There was a moment of suspense when Whelon was sure he could
