by Celeste Raye
"You find good and bad everywhere. What you are isn't necessarily who you are. I really must be tired if I'm getting philosophical. Can we pick up this tale tomorrow? I'll take that key. A shower sounds good."
Chapter Six
***Irene***
Irene's head ached terribly. Her ear throbbed relentlessly even though the doctor had said the eardrum wasn't ruptured. Moving her jaw sent pain streaking to her temple and beyond. She picked up the fresh icepack Jimbo had supplied on his last visit and placed it between the pillow and her swollen, bruised face. The doctor had supplied painkillers, but if they were working, she couldn't really tell it. He'd also given her a mild sedative that should have allowed her to sleep between Jimbo's visits to make sure the concussion hadn't addled her mind. It worked, but she fought against it because every time she fell asleep, nightmares ensued.
In those dreams, Irene replayed the scene in the bar repeatedly. She heard the crude comments Krane had made, felt his hands on her skin, and smelled his sweat. She'd rather miss some sleep than relive those moments.
The door squeaked, and she jumped, sending sharp pains through her head. She saw stars in the darkness. The door opened further, and she saw the silhouette of a very large man. Odds were in her favor that it was Jimbo coming to wake her again, yet it didn't stop her from shaking in terror. He and Krane had the same shape and height. With her nightmares to provide fodder for her fears, she couldn't help being paranoid. If her empath skills hadn't been rattled and stopped working after the assault, she would have sensed the worry and kindness coming from the intruder. Since that wasn't possible, she continued to shake until he stepped into the shaft of moonlight and spoke.
"Irene, you have to wake up again. I'm so sorry I have to keep doing this. I think I might stop after this time. You've been okay so far, and we both need some real sleep. Did you hear me?" Jimbo asked, gently shaking her to be certain she'd awoken.
"I'm awake," Irene answered. "I haven't really slept much. The nightmares wake me up. Has Krane come back at all? Has he retaliated for what happened? Are you and Aisaak safe?"
"Stop fretting. You need sleep to heal. I brought in extra guards. However, Krane and his cronies haven't come back. Never worry about me. I can take care of myself. Aisaak is safe too. I gave him the tiny room across the hall. He's going to be working for me now. With extra guards, me downstairs, and Aisaak a few feet away, you have nothing to fear. Take another pain med. Maybe it will stop the nightmares."
"Why not? The one the doctor gave me hasn't done much. A second dose can't hurt. Go to bed and stay there. My brain's working just fine, maybe too well. Goodnight, Jimbo."
After her boss left, Irene did take a second dose of the pain medication. She desperately wanted the nightmares to cease. She was calmer now that she knew Aisaak was near. She might not know him well, but she had seen him in action. He'd gotten to her before Jimbo had, which told her his senses were keen. Any disturbance was certain to wake him and bring him running to aid her. She would bet that he had known Jimbo was there. Because of her, no one was getting any sleep, so she vowed to keep her anxiety under control and let her saviors rest.
***Aisaak***
The piercing scream shattered the darkness. Aisaak was instantly wide awake and running. He knew who was screaming. If Krane or one of his men had gotten to Irene, then they would be dead in a moment. He wasn't going to hold back this time.
He practically tore the door to Irene's room off the hinges. Jimbo hadn't been kidding. He didn't go for the modern technologies. Instead of the sliding metal doors that used palm prints as identification to unlock them, Irene's and his were wood. They were hung on hinges and sported really old key locks. They wouldn't deter a thief or someone like Krane. They certainly didn't stop Aisaak.
He barreled through the now crooked, dangling door and readied himself to attack whoever was in the room. No one was there except Irene. She was sitting straight up in the bed, staring at nothing and screaming loud enough to be heard down in the bar. Aisaak recognized the problem right away. His younger sister had recurring nightmares, yet this one far surpassed any she'd dealt with.
He'd just reached her side and was lifting her into his arms when Jimbo came bounding in. "What did you do to her?" the big alien asked, his laser gun pointed at Aisaak.
"Nothing! It's a damned nightmare. She needs to wake up. Put the laser down and help me before everyone downstairs comes up here," Aisaak demanded.
Jimbo finally saw the truth in Aisaak's statement. He dropped the laser beside the water and meds on the side table. Together, he and Aisaak called Irene's name as they gently shook her. "Wake up, Irene. It's okay. We're here for you. You're safe. Please stop."
"It's my fault," Jimbo said. "I told her to take another pain med. It's knocked her out in conjunction with the sedative. Keep trying. I hear at least a dozen footsteps coming up the stairs. It's the guards. I'll send them away while you deal with Irene."
Shaking her wasn't working. She wouldn't wake up. Aisaak had to take a chance on a different solution. He had to turn the nightmare into something else. He drew Irene closer to his chest, letting his warmth soak into her. He rocked her like a baby and softly brushed her hair off her face. He began to hum a song that Vega had loved. It was a simple lullaby from their childhood that he'd often caught her singing. It should have sent him reeling with painful memories. Tonight, it didn't. The task of calming Irene overrode his past. He ignored the ruckus on the stairway and tightened his grip on Irene.
The screaming was the first thing to cease. His ears were quite thankful. Next, the shaking ended. Her muscles would definitely ache in the morning, and she might not remember why. She was completely out of it. Once he felt her body go limp, he knew he'd stopped the nightmare. She was, however, soaked in sweat. The thin cotton shirt she wore to sleep in was glued to her. He couldn't leave her in that condition.
Her room was slightly larger than his own, and it contained something his didn't: a bathroom. He laid her down and went to it to find a cloth, which he drenched in cold water. He wiped her tear stained, sweaty face and neck. Deciding that wasn't good enough, he went back to rewet the cloth.
He gingerly removed the shirt, peeling it off her wet skin. He washed off her body, trying to remain objective and unmoved by the naked curves that were on full display. He failed. How could anyone, including a physician, look upon such perfection and not be inflamed with desire. Her skin was silky, her breasts full and plump, her waist tiny, and her hips flared just right. He had covered everything below them with the bed sheet. It didn't seem right to gaze upon her center while she slept, but his imagination filled in the blanks.
Aisaak discovered another shirt identical to the one she had been wearing in a trunk at the end of the bed. He slipped it over her head and breathed a sigh of relief when she was covered from his sight once more. Leaving the wet cloth and dirty shirt in the bathroom, he slipped away. She should sleep contentedly until morning. He wouldn't. He couldn't forget what he'd seen and didn't especially want to, which made him angry at himself. He shouldn't feel desire for another woman while Vega laid dead and buried. He did though, and it was disconcerting. He was the one who required a shower now: his second of the night.
Aisaak searched out Jimbo to tell him Irene would be okay and asked for the use of his shower again. To his credit, the man didn't ask why another shower was necessary. He just admitted Aisaak to his room with a knowing smile.
***Irene***
The terror wouldn't let her go. She fought the nightmare, but it lingered. A part of her comprehended that what was occurring wasn't reality. She wanted to waken. She tried to change the scene in her head in order to do so. It failed. She heard her own screams and couldn't do anything to stop them. The sedation was too heavy.
Warmth encased her, squeezing her tightly, just short of causing pain. There was a heartbeat in her thumping next to her unharmed ear. Hers slowed to beat in time with the rhythm. A hand removed the choking tangle of
hair from her face. A song, long forgotten from childhood, reached into her soul. It soothed her in a way nothing else could have. All the pain and terror disappeared. What was left were rainbows and sunshine, as the rocking motion sent her into a much different dream.
Cool water and spring breezes comforted her. She seemed to be floating in the stream near her parents’ home. The wind swept over her bare body, making it tingle. It caressed her breasts and gave her an ache at the apex of her thighs. However, the air never seemed to quite reach there. It was frustrating and delightful at the same time.
Something soft covered her. She was laying in the cool grass now. A wonderful scent tickled her nose. It smelled of musk and heat: a strictly male odor. She liked it very much. It gave her a sense of safety and caring. When it moved farther from her, she was saddened, but also too tired to follow.
Irene didn't wake again until the sun shone directly in her eyes. That meant it was after lunch: close to two or three in the afternoon. She'd overslept. She wasn't going to have time to get to the casino and back before her shift at the bar. She wouldn't get to see Savanah again today. How had she let that happen? It was unusual for her to sleep past noon.
There was a bad taste in her dry mouth. She reached for the glass of water she kept on the table by the bed. The sudden movement sent her head spinning and her stomach into waves of nausea. Her hand came up to touch her face. It was tender and swollen. The previous night's incident came rushing back. Krane had hit her. She knew without a doubt there would be no work for her today: probably not tomorrow either.
Could she somehow make it to the casino to check on Savanah? What if Krane went after her sister when he wasn't able to reach Irene? She sat up, but the world was swirling so badly she had to resume a prone position. Maybe she could send a messenger to Savanah.
Irene required aid. She needed to visit the restroom. It was vital and becoming more so as the seconds passed. She shouted for Jimbo, hoping he would hear her from downstairs. The loudness of her own yell shook her poor brain and made her moan in agony.
Heavy footfalls echoed outside her door. Good, her shouting hadn't been in vain. Jimbo was coming. When the door moved, it wasn't her boss standing there. It was Aisaak, the newcomer from last night. She vaguely remembered Jimbo mentioning that he was given the room across the hall. That's why he'd heard her shout and appeared instead of Jimbo.
"What do you need, Irene? Water, food, perhaps a pain medication?" Aisaak kindly asked.
"Where's Jimbo? Can you find him for me?" Irene could summon the courage to ask Jimbo to help her reach the bathroom, but not Aisaak. That would be too humiliating by far.
"He's not here right now. He went down to the space docks to try to expedite the clearance of a liquor shipment. Unless it's different down there today than it was yesterday, he won't be back before his shift begins. You'll have to make do with me. How can I help you?"
There was no choice. She couldn't get anywhere on her own, and the other waitresses would be busy. Besides, she needed stronger arms than theirs to get her across the room.
"I...um...I need the...um" Irene stuttered.
Aisaak got the point. She didn't have to finish the sentence. Her blush had said it all. "I've got this," he told her. Without a single sign of embarrassment, he came forward and lifted her off the bed. He carried her the few steps to the bathroom and stood her beside the sink, showing her how to use it for balance. Then, he stepped out, closed the door, and waited for her to be done.
It took her a while for more than one reason. Of course, her head was throbbing so her movements were forced to be slow and steady. The second reason, though, was much more perplexing. Aisaak smelled like her dream. Why?
Chapter Seven
***Irene***
Two days were all Irene could stand. Staying locked up in her room, only seeing Jimbo or one of the waitresses when they brought her food, drove her crazy. She had gotten used to being sociable. The crowds and noise in the bar made her feel more alive. Not to mention, where was Aisaak? He hadn't come anywhere near her since he'd carried her back to the bed that day. He'd tensed when she'd dared to ask, "Why do you smell so familiar? I'd swear you were involved with my dreams last night."
His terse reply had been less than satisfying. "I passed your door after my shower. Perhaps my scent wafted into your room during a dream, and your addled brain mixed the two together."
That wasn't it at all. He was attempting a lie and failing badly. She didn't require her empath ability to see the wariness in his eyes or hear the hesitation in his voice that marked his words as an untruth. She'd remember what he was refusing to tell her at some point and confront him with it. Then, she'd know why he was avoiding her.
The sun was on its way up, and she couldn't remain in the room a moment longer. She stood and was pleased to find the world held still and there was no dizziness. Irene deemed herself recovered. A quick shower and clean clothes bolstered her energy. Ancient denim jeans, faded and soft, were complemented by a bright yellow blouse that bared her smooth shoulders. Her face wasn't swollen any longer, but the bruises had yet to fade. Yellow, blue, and sickly green colors mottled one side of her face. Her eye was bloodshot. She had pots of makeup she could have used to cover the markings. It seemed senseless. She had every intention of visiting Savanah and showing off the handiwork of Krane might work in her favor. He was certainly out there putting his own spin on what had happened in the bar. Let the public see for themselves what he'd done and judge him as they wished.
She tiptoed down the hallway. Aisaak would be sleeping, his shift having ended only three hours ago. Jimbo would be snoring as well. In fact, she could faintly discern the familiar rumble as she went past the second-floor landing.
The bar, as always, was busy. How anyone could drink whiskey and dance at seven in the morning, she didn't understand. Jimbo said it was an extension of the night to the revelers. They had no real notion of the actual time once they began gambling and drinking. She argued that daylight should give them a clue and he'd laugh: every time.
"If Jimbo comes down looking for me, let him know I went to see Savanah," Irene told the bartender.
"You bet. It's good to see you out and about, Irene. We all heard what Krane did. Your face looks better than I'd expected."
"You wouldn't be saying that to make me feel better, would you? I saw myself in the mirror, and I'm hideous."
"Your beauty shines through, love. Be careful out there. Krane's been spouting lies. There are idiots who believe you attacked him, with a laser no less," the bartender warned.
"That's why I'm doing this so early. He and his buddies are probably passed out somewhere after a wild night. I'll be back long before they are conscious." She waved at the waitresses and walked out into the fresh morning air.
It never failed to surprise her how easily she could believe Delti Utopia 6 was a real planet. It was small, especially in comparison to Earth, yet all the essential elements were there. If she hadn't seen the videos of its erection, she'd have never known it was manmade.
Lost in thought and enjoying the freedom after having spent days in bed, she didn't take enough notice of the people around her. She was too confident that Krane was out of circulation this early. Her stalker had free rein to follow as he saw fit.
Savanah usually worked from midnight to eight in the morning. Irene would be there to see her in action and then once her shift ended they could have a meal together and catch up. Irene knew she'd have to explain her bruises, although Savanah would most likely have heard the news by now. That made her wonder, why hadn't her sister come to see how she was faring?
In a casino, the lights were used in a fashion that didn't allow you to discern whether it was day or night. There were no clocks. The dealers didn't even wear watches or COM links. Everything was designed to entice the public and keep them playing for days. The liquor was spiked with a chemical that inhibited sleep. Making money was the only objective. Who cared about the health and well
being of rich tourists?
Savanah wasn't at her usual table. Another pretty blonde was dealing the cards. The nearby gaming tables were crowded, but Irene recognized the dealers from previous visits. If they were at their assigned tables, why wasn't Savanah? It was possible she'd been promoted and was at one of the exclusive tables on the dais. If so, Irene wouldn't be able to reach her until after her shift ended. The dais was off limits without a personal invitation from the casino manager. In order to recieve it, you had to bet huge amounts on every hand. Irene never played.
"Excuse me," Irene interrupted a dealer Savanah had introduced her to once. He was Centurion, his face half white and half black. He was unsmiling, angry over the intrusion until he saw who was speaking.
"Irene, dear girl, what are you doing here? Oh, dear, your sweet face is so battered. I've heard the tale a hundred different ways. I suspect none tell the truth. You shouldn't be hanging around. Krane's out for blood."
"I need to see Savanah. Why isn't she at her table?"
"She hasn't been here for days. No one told us why. We're not deemed important enough to be kept in the loop. I was tempted to look for her, but there's never enough time. My mate demands all my waking hours when I'm not at work. She's a bit possessive. What can I say? I'm a maniac in bed," he laughed. "I did hear a rumor that she moved up to the big casino. She must have caught the big boss's eye. He sees everything, and she was raking in the gold. Sorry, that's all I know." He abruptly turned back to the game as a guard came near. It was understandable. He didn't want to lose his job.
