by Kiersten Fay
A pang of jealousy nagged at him. Marik had a connection with her, a shared experience that Sebastian would never understand.
Cale interrupted his thoughts. “You impressed me today, Anya. And that's not easily done. I expect you here tomorrow.”
With a tight nod she turned and walked away. Sebastian remained only a second longer to order Cale to meet with him later before catching up with Anya. At first she didn't acknowledge him, just kept walking as if he wasn't there. He was okay with that. He only wanted to stay near her in case she broke down again.
“You don't have to walk with me. I know the way now.” Her voice seemed empty, but he knew there must be a storm of feelings brewing inside her.
“Maybe I'd like to walk with you.”
Laughing without humor she replied, “I think you want to make sure I don't blubber all over myself on the way there.”
Sebastian didn't respond.
“I'm fine now.”
“I don't think you are. I think you're on the Edge.”
She whipped around, coming to an abrupt stop. “Why do you care? I don't understand you! Why don't you just leave me alone?”
Sebastian didn't know what to say. He himself couldn't understand why he felt such a pull toward her. He was constantly trying to keep his distance, trying not to care. He didn't care. Did he?
For a moment, as she looked at him expectantly, Sebastian pondered how best to respond. He decided to go with the truth. “I feel…protective of you. I shouldn't, but I do. I just want you to be safe. Happy.” He paused. “And I want to find the person who hurt you, and rip out his goddamn throat.” Sebastian growled the last part and her jaw dropped. Turning, she began her swift pace again.
Not a word was spoken between them until they entered the salon, and even then, she only thanked him before disappearing into the galley.
* * *
——
* * *
Marik was pissed.
Anya had arrived to work the lunch crowd, but she was like a shell of her former self. She was closed off and wouldn't talk to him. Marik tried to ask her what happened during training, but she only shook her head. She hardly spoke all day, offering short comments when anyone tried to strike up a conversation. She still worked hard, but it was as though a cloud of gloom surrounded her.
Marik wasn't angry with Anya, but with Sebastian and Cale. Even Sonya would be wise to stay clear of him. Whatever the cause of her mood, it was most assuredly their doing. They didn't understand the inner turmoil of a newly freed slave. How could they? They had watched Marik go through so much during his recovery, had empathized with him as best they could, but that was different than truly understanding.
When Anya was serving the final customer of her shift, Sebastian and Cale entered the salon, taking a corner table. Marik saw her glance at them for only a second before hurrying into the galley to hand Marik her last order.
It was for soup and required no preparation. Marik filled a bowl, but left it on the counter. “Stay here for a minute,” he ordered, and entered the salon, stalking toward the two men.
Glancing his way, they knew immediately that he was pissed, and offered no surprise as to why he might be looking at them with daggers in his eyes. When he reached the table, he didn't greet them. In a low, but harsh tone, he said, “What the fuck did you do to her?”
Cale spoke first, “During training, I had her tap into her anger. I didn't know it would be so strong.”
Marik scoffed. “Do you remember what happened when you tried that with me?” He had almost taken Cale's head off.
“And look at you now, the picture of perfection,” Cale sneered.
“You have no idea what she's been through.”
“Neither do you. You may have both been slaves, but your situations were different.”
“Aye, and hers no doubt was worse, but I know more than you do, Cale. I've known pain like you couldn't imagine.”
“Oh, really? Do you know what it's like to lose a mate?”
“I know what it's like to lose family.”
“Enough!” Sebastian grated. “This isn't a competition. We've all suffered. Every one of us. No one can know what the other is going through, and that includes Anya. That's why she will continue training. Learning to control her emotions, while defending herself, could save her life one day. Don't you agree?” They both nodded. “Today was a setback. There are always setbacks in the beginning.”
Cale's shoulders went back. “She's a good student. Didn't complain, though I could see it in her face she wanted to. And fast, when she…caught her stride.”
“Just go easy on her,” Marik replied. "She's still healing."
A spark of realization covered Sebastian's features. “Does Anya remind you of your sister?”
Marik reluctantly nodded.
“You know Cale is a good trainer. He would do nothing to hurt her.”
“Yeah, yeah, I'm a fucking angel,” Cale scoffed and leaned back in his chair.
Just then Anya appeared in the salon, heading straight toward them. She gave each of them a wary look before she asked Sebastian, “Are you here to walk with me again?”
Sebastian looked as though he were torn. “Can you find your way?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will leave you to it, unless…Do you want me to?”
Without hesitation, Anya replied, “It's not necessary." She looked at each of them in turn. "I'll be fine.”
Marik knew she wasn't talking about finding the pub with that last remark. He watched her leave, thinking; maybe it would be good for her to get closer to Sonya. Women have their own way of comforting each other, and their tactics seemed to elude male kind.
* * *
——
* * *
Analia was glad to get out of there.
It was obvious they were arguing, probably about her. She didn't care. What she'd gone through during Cale's training was none of their business. She was upset with herself for breaking down as she had and vowed that it would not happen again. She would concentrate on learning what she could from Cale, so she could leave here with confidence. That would be her only focus.
Sonya waved her over as soon as she entered the pub. “Did Bastian explain to you why you're here?" she asked.
Analia nodded.
Sonya froze and studied her. “What's wrong?”
Was she that transparent? She tried to fake a smile. “I'm fine.”
“No you're not. What happened? Was Cale being an ass?”
Analia remained quiet.
“You might as well tell me, because I don't give up till I get what I want.”
Rolling her eyes, Anya proceeded to explain her failure this morning. Sonya listened quietly till the end. Then, to Anya's confusion, Sonya smiled.
“I'm proud of you. It sounds like you really caught Cale off guard. It takes years to tap into your emotions for use in battle like that. Demons train for decades to accomplish it. I know it must feel awful now, but it will get better. There will come a time when you can tap the emotions for their strengths, and keep yourself separate from the memory that inspired the emotion in the first place.” Sonya paused. A mischievous smile crossed her lips. “Then you'll have the boys running for the hills.”
“Running for the hills?”
“Yeah. Fleeing to escape your wrath.”
Anya laughed at that. But Sonya did have a point. Before she had engaged her anger, she'd been useless with the sword. Much of it was fuzzy now, but she remembered causing Cale to step back more than once. Obviously because he was stunned, but still. She smiled. “I didn't fail.”
“That's my girl. Now let's serve some drinks.”
There was a lot involved with serving drinks. In Marik's galley, he did the cooking while she only delivered it. Here Sonya expected her to mix the drinks exactly as she explained. There was a lot to remember, and she made more than a few mistakes.
To her humiliation, a man with long, orange d
readlocks and golden skin spit out a drink she had served him. Anya tried to apologize as best she could, but the man just waved her away and ordered her in a rough tone to fix it. Furthering Anya's humiliation, Sonya had scolded the man and forced him to apologize to her for his behavior.
Sonya had no fear. She was a strong female who didn't take crap from anyone, as she put it. Sonya was in charge here and didn't hesitate to let it be known.
Anya was awed.
After the thirteenth or fourteenth drink order, Anya began to get a handle on it. She liked it when someone ordered one of the bottled drinks, and she only had to open it for them. That was nice and easy. Most of them, however, liked their drinks mixed…and strong.
Many of the people she'd served in the salon showed up at the pub, greeted her with kindness, and thankfully, patience as she stumbled through making their drinks.
Sonya was kept busy as well. It became hectic when more than ten people were demanding drinks at once, but Sonya seemed to thrive on that. Joking and talking with the crowd to keep them occupied while they waited.
As the night drew on, some of the patrons—after multiple drinks—grew noticeably mellow or affectionate, while others became more animated and loud. This must be what Xandar meant when he said alcohol affected individuals differently.
A quarrel broke out and Analia watched as Sonya took control to calm the situation. Two men had begun shoving each other, spouting in a language she didn't understand. Sonya, who also spoke their language, soon had them both laughing. They didn't cause problems the rest of the night.
One thing Anya noticed was that after a few drinks, people loved to talk, and talk, and talk. At first, she thought it rude to interrupt them to attend another customer. Then she realized that they rarely even noticed, often continuing their rambling to the person next to them.
During the night, Anya received a lot of compliments. There were comments of her beauty, her kindness, her aura—whatever that was. At first these compliments resulted in awkward embarrassment, but soon she learned just to say thank you and brush them off as the inebriated observations that they were.
For a moment, the crowd died down, and Sonya inquired how she was handling everything.
“It's a little strange. In fact, all of this is a little strange,” she admitted. Anya hadn't realized it till now, but her transition was one of incomprehensible magnitude. Sonya cocked her head in question. “I've gone from a slave, isolated from everything and everyone, to surrounded, by people who…I just…I feel…” Feel what? Important? Cared for? Like she mattered, a least a little bit?
Sonya surprised her by drawing her into a tight hug. Anya hugged her back, until an eruption of hoots and hollers in the background made them both laugh, and they pulled apart. Then three men caught her eye.
Bastian, Cale, and Marik were here.
Walking to the bar they greeted Anya with smiles. Sebastian spoke first. “We wanted to see how things were going.”
Sonya replied, “We're doing great, right, Anya?”
“Right,” she agreed. “Marik? Who is running the galley?”
“I left out a buffet. They can fend for themselves for a night.”
“Would you like a drink? I've learned how to make a few really…er…somewhat well. How about one of the bottled drinks?” They all smiled at her. The sight of it warmed her heart like nothing ever had before. She was beginning to care for all of them. Stupid on her part, she knew, but she couldn't seem to help it.
“I'll take a flaming inferno. I've heard good things,” Marik replied.
“Same here.” Both Cale and Bastian said together.
Flaming inferno? No one had ordered that tonight. Anya looked at Sonya for help.
“I'll get them. Marik hasn't tried it yet.” Sonya seemed to imply something with that statement, Anya wasn't sure what. Returning with a bottle, Sonya poured the drinks—a total of five.
Five?
Anya looked around for someone else who might have ordered a drink. Sonya noted her confusion and explained the importance of the act she was about to partake in. An act of trust and friendship. Her heart fluttered. “But I'm working. I don't know how this will affect me.”
“You're shift is nearly over. We'll end it early tonight. You did well. Much better than I imagined. You are indeed a swift learner, Anya.” Sonya raised her glass and the others followed. “To Anya and her future. May it be filled with nothing but happiness.”
Together, they repeated the phrase and swallowed their drinks. With her throat tightening, full of emotion, she took the shot as they had. The burning wasn’t so bad, she told herself, and was proud she’d only coughed a little.
After that, Sonya shoved her out from behind the bar, and the boys maneuvered her to a table, then ordered themselves another round of flaming infernos. Anya asked for something a little milder and settled into her seat. She expected they wanted to speak with her about what happened this morning, but no one brought it up. Instead, the conversation took a different path.
“Bastian, how far along are we, do you think?” Marik said, sipping his drink.
“Not as far as I would like. It may benefit us to go through the warring zones, to shave off some time.”
Marik stiffened. “Is that necessary?”
He and Sebastian shared a look. “Considering what you told me earlier, it might be wise.”
Cale waved his hand in dismissal. “We've been through it before with no problems. Marada is more than qualified for the challenge.”
“Cale, as I've told you before, too much arrogance can be your downfall.”
Curious, Anya interrupted, “What are the warring zones?”
Sebastian answered, “It's a span of volatile space, where inhabitants are continuously at war for control over territory of a few large mining fields. We've flown through before, undetected, but it's a risk. Any ship we cross paths with could be an enemy.” He paused before continuing, seeming to weigh his next words. “We have all the time we need to deliver the cargo. We could avoid it altogether, and go around. What do you think, Anya? Should we risk it to save time?”
Analia stared at him, shocked that he would ask her advice at all, even if he didn't mean to take it. All of them watched, waiting for her answer. Sipping her drink, she thought hard, wanting to give as educated an answer as possible.
Knowing what she did—that Darius might be coming for her—she considered the options. Darius would follow them either way. He had confidence in his ship, the same as Cale had shown just now. He wouldn't hesitate to go through the warring zones if it was convenient. If they did go through the warring zones, there was a higher chance that Darius would be slowed down by attacks. Of course, the same problem applied to them.
“If we choose to go through the warring zones, what are the chances of attack?”
“I'd estimate a thirty to forty percent,” Sebastian replied.
“And what of, say, a larger ship? Would the chances of attack be the same?”
“It's possible that a larger ship would draw more interest. Pirating for supplies is popular. How large are we talking?”
Bastian was edging for information. Anya knew she was walking a dangerous line. With a thin smile, she replied, “We're talking larger than this ship. Forty percent is a high number. How confident are you, if we were to be attacked?”
Cale replied to that, “Very. We have faced hundreds of attacks and defeated every one, many ships larger and more equipped than ours.”
Now she edged for information. “How much more equipped?”
Sebastian responded, “By our calculations many of our opponents harbored weapons that could cause greater damage than ours, but none of them seemed to match our experience, and the experience of our crew. We bested them with our wits, as well as our firepower.”
That certainly didn't apply to Darius. Darius knew the capabilities of Extarga and how to exploit it. His weapons were the best, and often it took only one shot to bring an opponent down.
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Anya took a moment to weigh every option versus every outcome. “I think it would be worth it to go through the warring zones.”
While Sebastian pursed his lips, the other two took on a grave expression. It didn't matter what any of them were thinking at this moment—most likely that she had put them all in danger by merely being here—she ignored the guilt. There was nothing she could do about it now. She felt her conclusion would keep them safe…or as safe as possible when Darius might be chasing them.
Cale replied in a drab tone, “Interesting Anya. How ever did you come to that conclusion?”
She shrugged and lied through her teeth. “What convinced me was your confidence, Cale. You seem very sure that no harm would come to us. So why shouldn't we take the shortcut?”
Cale snorted and swallowed the last of his drink, but didn't comment.
Marik changed the subject. “How did you like working the bar, Anya?”
Beaming, Anya replied, “It's a lot of work, a lot to remember. Sonya is amazing at it. I think, once I get the hang of it, I should be fine.” She smirked. “Till then, be cautious of my mixed drinks.”
They all laughed at that.
Sonya stopped by the table to refill their glasses, winking at Anya before moving to the next table.
Together, the three males sucked down their drinks, while Anya sipped her still full glass of whatever it was. Marik commented. “We've been, what? Nearly a month into the journey? The crew seems to be reacting fine to being cooped up.”
“So far there have been no incidents,” Sebastian replied.
Anya was once again curious. “What kind of incidents would you expect?”
“It's been proven that when people are cooped up in the same space, or isolated for long periods of time they tend to go stir-crazy, and begin to act abnormally toward others or their surroundings.”
“Oh.” She suddenly felt uncomfortable with this topic. Her own experiences have shown proof of his claim.
