by Nia Shay
"I still don't trust you."
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "That's a shame, princess, because without me you don't stand a snowball's chance in this place."
"Did you really think you could pull off the whole daring rescue thing, anyway? Aren't we in some underground bunker crawling with guards?" A faint edge of hysteria crept into my tone, despite my best efforts to contain it. "That's how it always works in the movies."
"This isn't a movie, dear heart. You're not underground, and there aren't as many guards as you might think. They're counting on weakness and fear to keep you here. But fortunately, both of those things are easily remedied."
"What, they didn't even lock the door?" I muttered.
He waved an impatient hand at my sarcasm. "Well, yes, the door's locked. But if you're prepared when someone opens it, you'll be home free. Here--you can start by memorizing the floor plan."
I stood still and waited for some sort of ghostly map to overlay my vision. It didn't, but when I found myself wondering what lay on the other side of the rectangular window, I suddenly knew as clearly as if I'd seen it a hundred times before. A dark and narrow room, set with two tables and four folding chairs. Several sets of ugly, oversized headphones lay on the tables, plugged into speakers set in the wall below the window. Which was actually a two-way mirror.
An observation room, eh? Thankfully, it seemed empty, at least in the dream state. I wondered if it someone occupied it in reality, and what an observer might be seeing--just my body, lying unconscious? It seemed to me that this amount of mental activity would show on the surface somehow.
Brax shook me a little. "Focus, Jandra."
My vision shifted into a long hallway, painted just as stark white as the walls around us. Identical steel doors lined both sides. "This is the view outside this room, facing to the left," he said. "You'll want to follow the hallway down to the second corner, then head right...."
"You sure do know a lot about this place, don't you?" The mental image faded away as I narrowed my eyes at him.
"I ought to," he replied. "I grew up here."
"What?"
"You heard me." For the first time in our acquaintance, he avoided my eyes. "No one was interested in the impact a normal childhood might've had on my future usefulness."
"Wow." I groped for words. "That's...that's seriously messed up."
"Yes, it is, but there isn't time for you to pity me right now." He flashed me a grin that fell a bit short of his usual one. "You can kiss it all better later, if you want. As for now, how are you feeling?"
I chuckled dryly. "I've been better."
"Don't worry, sweetness. You can feed from me."
"I can...what?"
Brax rolled his eyes. "You need energy. You absorb it from other people, right? So take some of mine."
"No, I can't. I mean, I don't...." I stumbled backward in my anxiety, right out of his embrace.
"Now is hardly the time to be squeamish, dear heart." He sighed, looking chagrined as his arms fell back to his sides. "Besides, am I really that repulsive?"
No, and that was a big part of my problem. He didn't wasn't repulsive in the least. What did that say about me? He should have disgusted me, but even knowing he ate frat boys for dinner hadn't painted him as irreparably evil in my eyes. Despite what I'd told him, I actually found myself trusting him more and more with each passing minute.
"Glad to hear it. So what exactly is the problem?"
I squirmed at the question, but what difference did it make? He was inside my mind already--honesty was my only real option. "I don't just do this with people, okay? I...it's not...."
"You're embarrassed?" he cut in, his tone incredulous.
I scowled at him. "Nice girls don't eat souls."
"Oh. I see."
He most certainly did not see. He wanted to laugh at me--it showed plain as day on his face. I suppose compared to his appetites, mine seemed like no big deal. But he managed to hold his composure, and offered me his hand. "No eating, then. But how about a taste?"
After a long moment of hesitation, I took it, because unfortunately he was right. I didn't have the strength to fight off a kitten right now, let alone a mad scientist or twelve. And when they came for me, I would fight, whether or not I had any hope of escaping. I'd force them to kill me before I'd let them hurt me the way they'd hurt....
"No more negativity, dear heart." Brax's drew me close. "Everything's going to be all right."
He wasn't as certain as he sounded. His worry showed through in the tension of his posture, his guarded expression. I wanted to protest that we were royally screwed and I'd be negative if I damn well pleased, but what would be the point? Instead, I laid my hands over his shoulders again, as I had in the garden. "Hold onto me, okay?"
"With pleasure." His hands found the small of my back and pressed me more firmly against the front of his body.
"No, I meant seriously, hold onto me. We're not slow dancing here. Sometimes when I do this, I fall down."
He bent his head close to mine. "I would never let you fall, Jandra."
A shiver ran through me as his breath tickled across my cheek. "Hope you're serious about that 'I like pain' business," I warned him through clenched teeth, sliding my hands down to meet in the center of his chest, over his heart.
"Oh, I'm liking this already." His shirt vanished suddenly, and my hands rested on bare skin.
"Jackass," I muttered. But I shoved my irritation aside and forced myself to tune in to him. It took good bit more effort than usual, but eventually I began to sense the pulse of his azoth, a steady thrum just beneath the surface of his skin. And holy shit, did he have it to spare. I'd never felt anyone so powerful.
"Focus," he said again, his voice gone low and husky. Another shudder of reaction shook me. He slid his arms around me, clasping me tight. Well, it was now or never. I opened my mind to his, though I wasn't quite sure how to proceed beyond that.
It didn't matter--one touch was all it took. His azoth rose to meet mine more quickly than I'd ever experienced, pouring into me as if I'd opened a floodgate. It staggered me briefly, but Brax held me steady despite the startlement on his face. He grunted, his head falling back.
"Brax?"
"Don't stop," he breathed.
I couldn't have even if I'd wanted to. Apparently I'd been drained even worse than I'd realized, and his essence was as welcome to my voracious soul as cool water on a summer day. As I drank him in, I became more aware of the rhythm of his pulse, the texture of his skin beneath my fingers. Without a thought, I slid one hand upward to curve around the side of his neck, liking the way his thick curls fell over my fingers. When my hand skimmed over the pulse point in his throat, a spasm rocked his body, like I'd electrocuted him. He hissed a curse.
I snatched my hand back. "Did I hurt you?"
"Yes," he wheezed, his head drooping onto my shoulder as he whooped in a ragged breath.
"Damn it, I'm sorry." I hugged him.
"Oh, don't be." He peeked up at me through the screen of his hair. I could see only one blue eye, but it sparkled with mischief. "I only wish we had time to do it again."
"Jackass," I accused again, pushing him away this time. "You aren't hurt at all."
"It did sting just a bit," he argued, frowning as he straightened up. His breath still came in shallow huffs. "But you're looking better, and that's all that matters."
"Yeah. I feel better, too."
"Glad to hear it. I wasn't sure how well that would work over a distance."
"'Over a distance?'" I repeated, brows lowering. "You mean you're not really even here?"
"Not in the building, no, but I'm close by. Don't worry. I'll be waiting for you right outside."
"You mean you expect me to break out of here all by myself?" As soon as that the words were out of my mouth, I gasped. I hadn't come here alone! "Wait a minute! What about...?"
An anguished moan interrupted me. Flinching at the sound, I looked around for its source
, noticing for the first time a second operating table behind Brax. "Zeph?"
Brax glared over his shoulder. "Quiet, you!"
"That is him, isn't it?" Of course, it had to be. The other table hadn't been there before, I was sure of it. As soon as I'd thought of Zeph, he'd appeared in the dream.
Eyes widening, I dodged around Brax as tried to block me. "Zeph? It's me, baby. I'm here. Can you hear me?"
No response. He was still unconscious. His alabaster skin had taken on a grayish tinge, and fine tremors shook his entire frame. A blank white sheet covered him from the chest down. A mental conjuring of mine, to be sure--I didn't want or need to see the ruin of his body again. I laid a hand against his cheek, wincing at its clammy chill. "Oh my God," I whispered. "He's dying."
"Of course he is." Brax circled around behind me, observing the scene from over my shoulder. "He's been draining your life away all this time in order to sustain his own. Now that you've put a stop to that, nature will gladly take its course."
"What?" I rounded on him, mouth agape.
He shrugged. "Why so surprised? It's always been that way--you give, he takes. It seemed to me an intervention was in order if you're going to have any hope of making it out alive."
"You mean when I closed that wound, I closed off from him?" I jabbed an accusing finger into the center of his chest, staggering him. "I was supporting him and you made me stop?"
"I didn't make you do anything, dear heart. You followed my advice of your own free will."
"But you tricked me!"
"I saved you. You need your strength to fight. Forget about him."
"No, damn it!" Distraught, I raked my hands through my hair. "If he dies then there's nothing worth fighting for! I want him to live. I love him!"
Brax cocked his head. My own voice came out of his mouth like an eerie movie effect. "What is 'want?' What is 'love?' Can you tell me?"
"Shut up!" I burst into sobs, torn between frantic desires--to help Zeph or to murder Brax. I probably wouldn't manage either one.
"Jandra." He faced me stoically, a sullen blur through the haze of my tears. "Remember what I told you. Sacrifice is not in your nature."
"You don't know me. You don't know me!" Some foreign object materialized in my hand, and I hurled it at him. "Get out of here!"
He dodged deftly, giving me one last, eloquent look. He made no brazen reply, simply vanished.
I turned back to Zeph--and screamed. His chest had gone still at some point during our argument. His eyes were open now, but glassy, glaring straight through me with a bitterness that said I'd intentionally betrayed him. I sank to my knees beside him and pushed his head to one side, unable to bear his empty accusation. Then I laid my head on his cold shoulder and wept.
Twenty-Nine
It was the crying that woke me from the nightmare--a cacophony of heart rending sorrow, like pouring rain and thunderclaps and tolling bells and shattering glass all rolled into one. It dragged me from my little oblivion, my own unconscious whimpers squeaking to a stop.
I opened my eyes to find myself in a very familiar room. Zeph lay below me, splayed facedown on the tile floor. He'd levered himself off of his own table and collapsed beside mine, leaving a wide smear of red in his wake.
"Zeph?" I whispered.
His head came up slowly. "Jandra." His tear-stained face was wretched, the very picture of tragedy, yet when he saw me he managed a weak smile. "You're alive."
"Of course I am." I slid down and dropped to my knees beside him, trying to ignore the thickness of the blood pooled beneath my legs. Gripping his shoulders, I eased his head into my lap. "Just hang on. I'm going to get us out of here, and we'll get you help."
"Jandra. You must listen to me."
Oh, hell no. No death soliloquies. I wouldn't let him. "There's no time for talk now. We have to...."
"Not we. You."
I winced. "Stop it with that! You're gonna be okay."
"Jandra...." He exhaled the word as his eyes slipped shut.
"No!" I shrieked, digging my fingers into his shoulders. "Stay with me!"
He opened his eyes again, though his anguish showed clearly on his face. "There's only one way for you to survive," he wheezed. "You have...to take me."
"Take you? Oh yeah, there's a good idea. In case you hadn't noticed, you're sort of dying!"
"I'm already dead."
I wept a frantic denial at his words, but I was lying to myself and I knew it. No one could bleed this much and live. Still, I wouldn't be the hand that struck him down. I couldn't. I refused. I opened my mouth to tell him so, though my resolve surely showed in my eyes.
But before I could say a word, he smiled at me again--not a pained grimace this time, but that radiant smile that made him look every inch a son of the divine. My words died in my throat as he raised a trembling hand to cup my cheek. "You've given me everything, Jandra. Now it's my turn. All that I am, I give to you."
"No, Zeph."
"It's the only way." A tear welled up in the corner of one amethyst eye. "I love you."
"Please." I shook so hard it hurt. "Please don't make me do this."
"You must live."
"No! Not without you. I love...!"
And my world exploded into a blinding inferno of agony. The reflected pain I'd felt from the bullet wound paled in comparison. My screams echoed off the concrete walls, impossibly high-pitched, a jarring counterpoint to the indistinct roar of human minds that suddenly filled my ears.
His fingers convulsed against my face as he forced even more azoth into my body. I couldn't pull away. I couldn't shut out the noise. His nails tore into my cheek, and still his life burned through me. My lungs ran out of air. Fire raged in my chest. Muscles strained. Joints locked. So much pain. So much pain.
Until, perhaps a minute later, it cut off like a switch.
Gasping, I slumped sideways, hitting the bloody floor with a sickening splat. I nearly gagged on air as my lungs finally filled again. Dimly, I could hear Zeph panting beside me. He was still alive, at least for the moment. Thank God.
I wasn't sure whether or not I'd survive, though. I felt like I'd been flayed. The glut of energy he'd force-fed me set my insides to boiling. My limbs twitched randomly, as if bioelectric voltage still raced through them. I tried to say something, but my mouth refused to cooperate. I only managed to produce a thin groan.
The sharp click of boot heels rang down the hallway outside. My screams had drawn someone's attention. A muffled curse reached my ears over the jingle of a key in the lock. The heavy door slammed open.
"Was zum Teufel?"
Briggs. Judging from the tone of his voice, he thought he'd lost both of his captives. It wouldn't take him long to find out otherwise, though. He had only to follow the trail of blood.
But his footsteps came softer now, as if he was edging into the room, wary of taking chances. "Bothersome wretches." The ominous click of a pistol's hammer punctuated his words. "More trouble than they're worth."
I squeezed my eyes shut, grasping after some shred of survival instinct. When that didn't work, I reverted to my training. The old mantra: breathe deeply and evenly, empty the mind, and wait for the pulse to slow. And when that didn't work, I just went limp and prayed for a miracle.
I don't know whether I got one, or if it was simply good timing, but something seemed to shift inside me at last. The foreign azoth broke like a wave against the shore, washing its power through every inch of my body. It didn't burn this time--it felt as warm and wonderful as Zeph's touch always had. As if the very essence of his soul had blended with mine. I cautiously stretched my arms against the floor, testing their newfound strength.
"Verdammt!" Briggs's strident voice sounded just above me. I looked up in time to see him lowering his gun to his side. We surely didn't look very threatening in our sad state. "How touching." He sneered. "You cower together even in death."
"Hermann Briggs. Leave us." The voice that poured from my lips seemed to echo through fo
ur octaves simultaneously. Some notes sounded like me and some like Zeph, but some were like nothing I'd ever heard before. Some distant part of my mind was impressed.
Apparently it made an impression on Briggs, too. He fell back a step, his mouth falling open as he brought his weapon to bear. My body began to move of its own accord, bringing me first to my knees, then to my feet with an eerie grace I'd never possessed before. Briggs's Magnum tracked me all the while.
I ignored the gun, staring into the depths of his eyes. "You are not beyond redemption," the alien voice proclaimed. I begged to differ, but my mouth spoke on heedless of my opinion. "Leave now, and your life will be spared."
An ugly grin broke across his face. "You can't control my mind, you unholy bitch."
"I don't seek to." I frowned at the barrel of his Magnum, which he still held trained on the bridge of my nose. "Will you leave me no choice but to destroy you?"
Briggs spat a curse, but I hardly heard it. I was already reacting. My arm came up lightning-quick to bat the pistol aside. His shot ricocheted somewhere on the other side of the room. In the same motion, I twisted my wrist to grasp at his, jerking it sharply upward. The bone snapped with a gruesome crack.
He endured the pain of the fracture without so much as a cry. The gun fumbled from his limp fingers and clattered to the floor. Undaunted, he jabbed a punch at me with his other hand.
The blow struck my shoulder, numbing my arm with its force. Hissing, I released him and brought up my other hand to catch him by the throat. I squeezed, hoisting him several inches off the ground with hardly an effort.
Now he let out a strangled scream, grasping at my fingers, but he couldn't pry them loose. "Your fate has been sealed," I informed him gravely.
"Abomination!" he choked. "Should have been killed...with the rest of your kind!"
Fury snapped through me. My eyes began to burn, bathing Briggs's craggy features in pale green light. I narrowed them so I could see better, though I didn't really need to look at him. I could feel his hatred twisting within him like a cancer. I couldn't release him and expect to walk out of here--if Zeph and I were to live, Briggs had to die.
