“There are no distinctions on Ontariese, only names. My name is Lyrik.”
He was so big. His hands could easily snap her neck. Even with the augmented strength of her body armor, she had struggled to subdue him. He moved even closer, his gaze caressing her face. Her cheeks heated, and she raised her fingers to her skin.
“Say my name.”
“Sir.”
A smile curved his lips, and her heart fluttered in her chest. Without her armor she couldn’t regulate her responses. This was dangerous. She focused on his mouth. He’d brushed his lips over hers and pressed her against his chest.
“Am I going about this backwards?” He curved the fingers of one hand around the back of her neck and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Say my name, and I’ll kiss you again.”
“Lyrik.” The word was out before she could stop herself. His lips settled over hers, firm, yet surprisingly gentle. She eased her hands under his uniform top, needing the warmth of his skin. Following his lead, she parted her lips and nibbled.
“Say your name, or I’ll stop.” He whispered the words against her lips.
She stiffened. Didn’t he realize what he asked of her? She’d been beaten and starved, locked in a cold, dark room until she accepted her distinction. “I can’t.”
He framed her face between his palms, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “I will never hurt you.” Compassion warmed his gaze, and her defenses slipped a little more. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”
She nodded, her throat too tight to reply. His mouth covered hers, and she wrapped both arms around his back, pressing her body against his. He moved his lips over and against hers. His tongue traced her lower lip, and she murmured. What was he doing? Tasting her? He delved inside, and she shuddered, letting out a surprised little cry.
He ended the kiss with a soft chuckle. “You’ll never convince me you’re not a virgin now.”
Virginity could be relative. Nothing she’d experienced so far involved having another person’s tongue in her mouth! “Does everyone on this planet kiss -- like that?”
“Afraid so.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You didn’t like it?”
“That is irrelevant.” She stepped back and took a deep breath. “I never should have encouraged you to touch me.”
“Why not?”
She scowled. He was trying to confuse her again.
“We were both enjoying ourselves until I rushed you,” he went on when she didn’t reply. “Shall we try again now that you know what to expect?”
Neatly sidestepping his halfhearted advance, she tucked her hair behind her ears and turned the conversation onto a more productive course. “Why are there more men than women on your planet?”
Tension hardened his features, making her regret the question. “There was a war between the two controlling powers about a hundred cycles ago. The Reformation Sect unleashed a bio-weapon designed to wipe out our females. Unfortunately the weapon was more effective than they realized, and many of their women died as well.”
“That is irrational.” Even against the horrors she had suffered, what he described was hard to comprehend. “How would wiping out your females further their ... I don’t understand.”
Raking his fingers through his damp hair, he heaved an audible sigh. “It’s a long, involved story. Maybe it’s better if you get a grasp on the current situation before we get into history.”
He was probably right. “How long was I in stasis? I have no recollection of the journey here from Earth. You claim we traveled a great distance.”
“That’s complicated, too. Using conventional transportation, it would take several lifespans to travel from Earth to Ontariese.”
“Then how did I get here?”
“Through an interdimensional portal.” He moved toward the cabinets inset in the far wall. “This could be a lengthy conversation. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
He was stalling, and he hadn’t answered her original question. “A beverage would be acceptable, but I will not allow your evasions indefinitely.”
“Hey. Who’s the handler here? I thought I was giving the orders.” He flashed a lopsided grin, then crossed to the cupboards.
She activated her optical scanner as he scooped powder out of a canister and filled two mugs with steaming water. A light blinked behind her eyes when the scanner initialized. She didn’t want him to realize what she was doing. She could monitor his respiration, pulse, and body temperature as he spoke. It wasn’t an infallible way of gauging truthfulness, but it was the best she could do without her armor.
“Instant blish is better than nothing. Remind me to brew some fresh when we return.” He handed her one of the mugs and took a sip from the other.
She paused to inhale the fragrant steam before trying the beverage. It rolled across her tongue, the taste tangy, yet sweet. “It’s pleasant, but bliss is an exaggeration.”
He smiled. “Blish. Some argue that the name has been corrupted over time. Still, the name of the drink is blish.” He motioned her toward the bench and pushed a button on the wall. A narrow table slid out, providing a place to set their cups.
“What is an interdimensional portal?” she prompted him.
“Were you able to turn others off before you received your implants?”
“You keep answering my questions with questions. What does my ability have to do with these portals?” She analyzed the input from her scanners as she waited for his response. He appeared to be humanoid, but scans could be deceiving.
“We call people with unusual abilities Mystics. If their abilities are powerful enough, they are invited to the Conservatory to be trained. Only the strongest Mystics can Summon the Storm, and it is this ability that creates an interdimensional portal.”
Throughout his explanation, her readings remained consistent. Either he believed what he was saying to be true or ... “Are you a cyborg?”
He laughed. “What makes you ask?”
“You resist my mental control techniques, and the effectiveness of my weapons is greatly reduced. The pulse I sent into your hand would have dropped most men to their knees.”
“Well, it’s nice to know you went easy on me. Wait a minute.” He set down his cup and folded his forearms on the tabletop. “You said mental control techniques. Turning people off isn’t your only trick?”
She was still reluctant to reveal specific information about her abilities. Her training perpetuated mistrust. “Tell me more about these Mystics.”
“You met their leader,” he said casually.
A memory stirred, a presence within her mind, powerful, agile -- ancient. “Vee.”
“What do you remember?”
Faces contorted with pain. Screaming. Terror and awe blasted her with equal intensity. She rubbed her temples as her head began to pound. Even the memory drained her strength and made her tremble.
“Did I kill him?” she whispered, dreading the answer.
Lyrik wasn’t sure what to tell her. D-159 wouldn’t care if she’d killed or not. Saebin may not have regained control, but she was fighting her way to the surface. “You attacked him, but he’s still alive.”
She released her breath in a sustained sigh and lifted her gaze to his. “I also remember a creature with red-rimmed eyes. He looked humanoid, but his scans were ... something else.”
“I’m not sure Lord Drakkin would appreciate being called a creature. He’s the Director of the Symposium.”
“I’m unfamiliar with that term.”
“The Symposium manages the Wisdom of the Ages. In ancient times they might have been called oracles, though their primary purpose isn’t to predict the future. They collect and validate information from all over the known galaxies. Drakkin’s home world is Bilarri. That’s why his physiology is different from ours.”
“Did I attack him also?”
Lyrik hid his smile behind his cup. “You tried, but he was unimpressed with your abilities.”
Her eyebrows
arched, revealing her skepticism. “Lord Drakkin is like you, unaffected by my --”
“Vee was trained by Drakkin, but even Vee isn’t in the same class as the Bilarrians. Drakkin turned you off as easily as you turn off others.”
Her eyes focused on his face, but her expression clouded. She wasn’t looking at him so much as aiming her gaze in his direction. He’d heard she had had some sort of implant behind her eyes. Was she scanning him? Scan away, sweetheart. I’ve got nothing to hide.
“After Drakkin rendered me unconscious, I was put in stasis?”
“Yes.”
“And how long was I kept in stasis?”
He smiled. This was bound to turn her crank in the wrong direction. That’s why he’d avoided the question the first time around. “You’ve been in stasis for just over a cycle.”
“A cycle of what?”
He didn’t really expect it to be that easy, but he’d had to give it a try. “Ontariese completes a turn every thirty-six hours, so an Ontarian cycle is roughly equivalent to eighteen Earth months.”
The information set her in motion. She crossed the room and returned to the table before she spoke again. “I was in stasis for a year and a half?”
“Yes.”
“Your eyes swirl like mine. Is that a common characteristic on your planet?”
Her anxiety confused him. He’d expected anger and confusion, but she seemed terrified. “Saebin, everyone on Ontariese has eyes like ours. The colors vary, but they all swirl. Everything Hydran told you was a lie. He was keeping --”
“What happened to the occupants? The ones with eyes like ours?”
“They were brought through the portal. Most of them are still on Ontariese. Is there someone in particular you want to find?”
“Right after I teleported, an overwhelming sense of danger surged through me.”
“That’s not surprising. This is a pretty inhospitable location, and you’d never teleported before.”
She shook her head, stopping directly in front of him. “I heard her voice when I first awakened. I know she’s here. We must find my handler.”
“Your handler was one of the occupants?” He tried to keep the shock from his tone and failed. “I thought she was an employee.”
“She was an occupant of ward A before she offered her services to Dr. Hydran.” Saebin looked away from him, her expression tense and wary. “She was not the only one who realized it was easier to cooperate than ... You still don’t understand.” She tossed back her hair and crossed her arms over her breasts. “She’s a cybernetic engineer. She helped design my implants as well as my body armor. If what you say is true, she has had eighteen months to further her research and find a new market for her products.”
Lyrik stood and instinctively placed his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t flinch or twist away. “What’s her name, or distinction? Detailed records were kept of all the occupants.”
Dread unfurled within him as she continued avoiding his gaze. “I was not allowed to know. She gave the orders, and I obeyed.”
Chapter Five
“D-159, comply.”
Saebin stared into the trusting eyes of the canine and felt another piece of her soul die. Swallowing back bile, she clenched her fist until her nails dug into her palm. Her arm trembled as she aimed her munitions implant at the animal. This was wrong. Senseless. But it was not her place to question her handler.
“The objective is assassination. Comply.”
For three days she had refused, and for three days she had not eaten.
“I can force you to comply, but that defeats the purpose of the exercise.”
A sting erupted at the base of her spine. The sensation would build in intensity until she killed the dog or lost consciousness. They had been through it all before. The pain built. Her eyes watered, and her hand shook.
With a tormented cry, she closed her eyes and sent a concentrated pulse into the animal’s brain. It yelped, and then there was blessed silence. She lowered her arm as tears escaped the corner of her eyes. The pain gradually receded.
She dragged air into her burning lungs and purged her revulsion with a violent shudder. The subtle shuffling of feet. She waited for the orderlies to remove her victim before she opened her eyes. Whining. Dear god, no. She opened her eyes and recoiled. The first dog had been replaced with a similar animal.
“Repeat the exercise, and do not close your eyes this time. You must be certain you’ve met your objective.”
Pain darted into her brain and down her spine. The stinging intensified with each second she hesitated. The dog tilted its head and thumped its tail against the floor. Her hand shook as she slowly raised her fist. Ignoring the whining of the harmless animal, she took aim.
“If this were a human target, your opportunity would be long gone. Kill the wretched beast, so we can move on to the next exercise.”
Human target? Her mind rebelled against the phrase. She lowered her fist and turned her back on her handler. Perhaps if she proved herself useless they would dispose of her. Better to die than --
Searing agony drove her to her knees. She screamed, clasping her head with both hands.
“Wait!” Dr. Hydran’s voice blared over the central com. “I have a new motivational technique I’d like to try on D-159.”
The dream shifted, undulating to a different scene. Saebin was strapped to a treatment table, naked and helpless. Hydran attached a device to the primary input at the base of her skull. “Pain can be so redundant. Let’s see if you respond better to this.” He injected something into her neck and left her alone in the treatment room. Why had they taken off her armor? It had taken months of various “motivations” before she’d stopped fighting the insidious control it had over her. She’d been beaten, starved, and isolated. Could there be another form of motivation?
As if to answer her unspoken question, heat erupted low in her belly. She shifted her hips and struggled against the restraints. Her sensory implants vibrated, warning her of the barrage of stimulation headed her way. Images formed in her mind. She instinctively closed her eyes. It made no difference. Naked bodies arched and thrust, grasped and stroked in an erotic kaleidoscope of impressions.
Her nipples tightened, her skin tingled, and her core throbbed. She tugged violently; the straps held firm. Each movement intensified the fiery need building within her. She groaned.
“We’ve allowed you access to the simulators when you achieved your objectives.” She wasn’t sure if Dr. Hydran spoke over the central com or if his voice was part of the sensory input. “Without its natural culmination, sexual desire can be quite unpleasant.”
The images focused to a single couple. A man and a woman lost in the throes of passion. She held her legs wide as he positioned himself between her thighs. Her folds gleamed, her desire obvious. The man traced her slit, making her writhe and moan. Saebin whimpered, her body pulsing painfully. He impaled the woman in one powerful thrust. She arched her back, taking him deeper with frantic upward drives.
Saebin thrashed on the treatment table, her body shaking. Her shallow panting made her nipples feel raw and needy. She couldn’t touch her swollen breasts, couldn’t bring herself release. On and on, scene after scene, she was kept on the agonizing brink of orgasm without mercy.
The image shifted again. The woman was on top of the man, straddling his hips.
“Saebin.” The man’s voice sounded harsh and hoarse. Her need and the image merged. She was the woman, riding her lover in utter abandon. She ground her hips against his, fumbling in the dark to find his hands. “Saebin.” His fingers closed around her shoulders and gave her a little shake.
With a shuddering moan, Saebin dragged his hands down to her breasts and pressed into his warmth.
Lyrik awoke as Saebin crawled on top of him. His sleep muddled brain didn’t register the significance until her hips started rocking. “Saebin.” He tried to make his tone harsh enough to snap her out of her daze. She arched her back and aligned her
mound with his rapidly hardening shaft. Holy shit! This must be one hell of a dream.
“Saebin.” He tried again, firmly grasping her shoulders. She moaned and pulled his hands down to her breasts. Warm, firm, and full, her breasts more than filled his palms. She’s asleep, asshole! She doesn’t know what she’s doing.
The heat from her sex seeped through his uniform bottom, teasing his body. It wasn’t just heat. She was wet, her desire-soaked uniform dampening the material separating them. “Saebin, you have to wake up. Saebin --”
Her knees clasped his hips, her body trembling violently. Heat pulsed from her core, making him gasp and flinch. Did this always happen when she had an orgasm? It would be down right dangerous for her lover. She cried out, and the implant in her hand discharged, the narrow beam drilling a small crater in the floor. Scrambling off him, she ran toward the utility room.
“Saebin.” He rolled off the bunk and hurried after her.
“Stay back!” She punctuated the demand with a warning shot that barely missed his thigh.
Reluctantly, he stopped in the archway as she crossed to the sinks. “Are you all right?”
She aimed her hand over her shoulder, the threat unmistakable.
“I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re --”
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Get the hell away from me.”
He moved back from the archway, sorting through the details as he went. Had he inadvertently triggered the erotic dream? He’d teased her and touched her, perhaps this was the result. She hadn’t known how to respond, so her subconscious took over. That didn’t account for the bursts of heat and the spontaneous discharge of her weapon. A smile curved his mouth. He’d heard sexual release called stranger things.
When she returned to the main room a short time later, her face was still flushed, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked, her tone hushed and awkward.
“Luckily your hand was pointed at the floor. Do you know why this happened?” She glanced at the bunks, her arms folded over her breasts. “Would you rather go back to sleep? We can talk about this in the morning.”
Ontarian Chronicles 3: City of Tears Page 4
