Psy (Alien Castaways #3) - Cara Bristol Page 0,33

fun.

Psy stroked her hand, toying with her fingers. She felt the tension in his body, although she couldn’t read the reason for it. What’s wrong?

The med pod might be able to cure you. It might eradicate the virus, eliminate the inflammation, and you’d feel better almost immediately.

Would if she could. As sick as she felt, she was willing to try almost anything to get better. Except that. A wave of nausea swept over her just contemplating climbing into the pod. I’d freak.

Even if I was there with you? If I got in the pod with you?

What if you got in the pod instead of me? Would it work by proxy? she joked.

I could help you tolerate it by implanting suggestions to help calm you.

You can do that?

With your permission—yes.

Did you do that now to get me to consider it? Because, she was considering it. She squinted through a pounding headache. Every single muscle ached. Her mouth tasted funny. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this bad. And for it to drag on for two weeks?

No. First, I would never do anything without your permission, and second, it would violate the Verital Code of Honor.

She didn’t think he had. Not because she couldn’t tell the difference but because she trusted him. If she got to the farmhouse, and the pod still frightened her too much, she could back out. No harm done. She swallowed, her throat raw. The way she felt now, she was willing to try anything. Maybe…maybe we could try.

Chapter Thirteen

Too weak to throw her leg over the seat, she sat sidesaddle on the hover scooter, and Psy got on behind her. Thank goodness she’d agreed to try the med pod. The extent of her illness had alarmed him. He could feel the virus marching through her body. She was sicker than she knew—far more ill than he had been. He’d blocked the full depth of his concern from her to avoid scaring her.

It had stunned him that Earth’s medical science had no cure. And apparently its vaccines were worthless, too. What kind of primitive, backwater planet was this?

Weary to the bone, she slumped against him.

He activated the refractor shield to render them invisible and then plotted the coordinates for the shortest, fastest route to the farmhouse.

Five minutes later, the hover scooter set down in the driveway.

“We’re here,” he said aloud to rouse her. She’d fallen asleep.

Already? She blinked.

“Let me help you inside.”

He dismounted and started to scoop her up in his arms, but she pulled away. I’m not an invalid. I’ll walk in, or I won’t go at all.

Her body might be weary, but her spirit was feisty.

Can I hold your hand? He intended to stay close to catch her if she fell.

Hand-holding is acceptable.

He laced their fingers. If it’s okay with you, I’ll begin with some suggestions to help calm you.

Okay…

As he slipped deeper into her psyche, the ferocity of her illness became more apparent—as did her nervousness about the pod. Her claustrophobia was no small issue. Gently, he pushed a suggestion into her mind. Breathe slowly. Deep breath in, deep breath out. In. Out.

He waited until her chest rose and fell before taking it to the next level. With every breath you take, calm pervades. There is no fear, only calm. Deep breath in, deep breath out. With every breath, calm pervades.

You are not afraid because you are in complete control. I am with you, holding your hand, and if you feel anxious, you will squeeze my hand and take a deep breath, and calm will pervade. You are unafraid because you are in complete control. Squeeze my hand now and feel the calm.

She tightened and released her grip.

The med pod will not frighten you because you have control, and you need only take a deep breath and squeeze my hand, and calm will return.

They marched up the wide steps to the porch and into the house.

A vapor cloud floated into the living room from the kitchen and coalesced into a shape of a man.

Cassie widened her eyes. Is that a ghost?

This is Shadow. He’s a Vaporian.

Watching his friend struggle to assume a solid form pained him. Shadow didn’t have much time left—he was losing control of his body. He wished he could help, but there was no suggestion he could implant that could override the genetic time bomb. Shadow had to find a genmate soon, or the involuntary sublimation episodes would continue to increase in frequency, with deposition becoming harder and harder to achieve, until he