Shielder — A new Science Fiction Romance (Book 1, Shielder Series) by Catherine Spangler

her upper arms.
    Certainly, Chase's associate would be
telling him about her masquerade, would be revealing her true
identity at this very moment. She had her dagger, but it offered
little protection against two seasoned warriors, shadowers at
that.
    Watching her agitated movements around the
chamber, Turi chattered anxiously. Heedless of Chase's disapproval,
Nessa flung off the lid and grabbed the furry body against her.
"What are we going to do?"
    Escape appeared the obvious answer. And if
that failed—if she faced incarceration and execution in a
Controller prison, or a hideous death from Orana—then suicide.
Nessa didn't know if she had the strength or the courage for that
option. Escape would be the better choice.
    Sabin Travers' ship was docked with theirs.
If she could slip though the airlock and override his computer
system, she might be able to get away.
    But rational thought began returning and she
knew that option wouldn't be feasible. Sabin's computer system
might be sophisticated, requiring hours to locate the necessary
codes to override the system. She sagged down on the bunk in
despair. Turi curled his front legs around her neck.
    Her entry panel slid open, and Sabin Travers
stepped inside.
    Nessa came to full alert, shoving Turi
behind her and retrieving her dagger from her boot as she rose.
Sabin leaned nonchalantly against the entry frame, his arms crossed
over his chest.
    "You really don't expect me to be
intimidated by that pitiful weapon, do you, pilgrim ?"
    Her heart seemed lodged in her throat, the
fierce pounding hindering clear thinking. To make matters worse,
Turi leaped to her shoulder, painfully digging in his claws and
hissing at the interloper.
    The devil's spawn raised an ebony eyebrow.
"What's this? A new secret weapon, a killer lanrax? I'm shaking in
my boots."
    Drawing a deep breath, Nessa backed slowly
to the plexishield case and forcefully pried a protesting Turi from
her shoulder. She stuffed him in the case and slammed on the lid,
all the while keeping Sabin in her sights. Gripping her dagger, she
faced her antagonist. She drew another breath, concentrating on her
early training as a junior combatant, before she'd become
cursed.
    "I'll fight you to the death, traitor," she
hissed.
    "Now I'm really frightened," he taunted. "Of
a scrawny, one-legged pilgrim I could crush with one
hand."
    He lunged forward, as rapid as a striking
viper. He knocked the dagger from her hand, sending it spinning
beyond reach. Grabbing her, he pressed her against the wall,
holding her hands by her side and stilling her flailing legs with
his body.
    "You have one leg that's useless and, as I
understand it, you suffer from seizures. I find that very
interesting. Why in the blazing hells are you still alive?"
    "I don't know what you're talking about,"
Nessa said, her pride stinging along with her wrist.
    "Oh, I'm sure you do, little fake. You would
have been put out of your misery when you became a cripple in
almost every Shielder colony in the quadrant. Tell me why you were
spared."
    The shame and humiliation of the past ten
seasons burned inside her, spurring her to struggle. "Let me
go."
    He ignored her demand. "Tell me why you're
involved in this false masquerade and where you're really
headed."
    "Maybe I just want to travel through the
quadrant without being hunted," she spat. "Especially by traitors
like you."
    His eyes, so black she couldn't distinguish
the pupils, gleamed wickedly. "Things are not always what they
seem, are they, pilgrim ? But one fact is certain. You're
hiding something. And you've involved my partner in your
scheme."
    Nessa found his concern for Chase very
unlikely. She heartily doubted he cared for anything beyond his own
material gain. "I want nothing from your partner other than a ride
to the nearest star base."
    "Somehow I find that hard to believe." He
pressed her harder against the wall. "However, since Chase can take
care of himself, I'll leave him to deal with you. But mark me