by Mara, Devi
"Return me to my cell, Sarah."
His tone made her shiver. She closed her eyes and nodded. He loomed over her for a moment, as if he planned to say something else. He seemed to think better of it and turned away with a rustle of cloth. She opened her eyes to see his broad back already moving through the crowd toward Corridor One.
The other Dems turned to stare at her after he passed. Their eyes seemed to scan her for something. She felt the tingle in her skin increase. Their eyes jerked away from her and she watched them shift in what almost looked like discomfort. She frowned.
The blast of noise in her mind made her jerk. She bit back a cry of surprised pain and hurried into the crowd. The sound increased, pulsing inside her head and making her stomach roll. Her vision began to blur around the edges. She was vaguely aware of bumping into muscular bodies. She caught several surprised glances from the Dems, but none of them attempted to touch her.
Over the shouted foreign words, she heard her own scream of pain in her mind. Eyes squeezed closed, she ran into a hard chest and bounced off. She started to fall backwards, unable to think clearly and gasping for breath. A firm grip on her upper arm arrested her fall. The noise cut off in the middle of a word, leaving nothing but deafening silence.
Sarah gasped for breath. She hung limply, letting the grip on her arm keep her upright. She fought to regain control of herself. The hand loosened slightly and she let herself stumble along beside the one holding her. They stopped again after a few steps. She forced her eyes open and blinked tears from her eyes. The door to Corridor One stood in front of her.
She quickly raised her arm. Her hand trembled, as she pressed it against the scanner. She was pulled through the door the moment it opened.
"You stink of him," a familiar voice growled in her ear.
Sarah forced her head back, squinting up at Farran. He sneered down at her, when she opened and closed her mouth without speaking. He jerked her toward the next door.
"Open it."
She flinched at the fury in his tone, but opened the door. He pulled her through the doorway and swung her around to face him. He gripped her other arm and backed her up against the wall. She stared up at him when all he did was hold her in place.
"What did I do?" she asked quietly.
He growled low in his throat. "Williams.”
She frowned in confusion.
"Did he have to pay you for your charms, or was dinner enough payment?" he spat.
Her eyes widened in shock.
He bared his teeth in a humorless smile. "You think the other humans do not speak of your indiscretions?"
Sarah shook her head hard.
His gaze darkened. "The others will come for you like wolves," he growled in her face.
"I didn't-" she started.
"It does not matter," he interrupted. "The others already speak of your taint."
She opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, unable to speak past the confusion that choked her.
"But, I never-"
He shook her. "I do not care for your excuses. Tell me what happened.”
She blinked to hide the tears that gathered in her eyes. She dropped her gaze to his chest. "We went to a restaurant and then he took me home," she whispered.
"And then?"
She looked up at him in confusion. "That's all. He took me to my parent's house and left."
The fire in his eyes died down at her words, but he continued to glare at her. "You do not have your own home?"
She shook her head, watching him glance away from her.
The darkness in his eyes began to fade. "You live there with your family," he muttered, seemingly to himself.
"My parents and my-" she broke off, clearing her throat.
"Your brother," he finished for her.
She looked up to see him watching her. She nodded.
"The one who was supposed to represent your family."
She nodded silently.
"He is in the hospital," he stated.
She looked away.
"Another fire. Like the one that burned your hands."
Her gaze raised to his at the soft words. He looked at her hard. His hands slid down her arms to grip her wrists. She let him flip her hands over. His gaze moved over her palms and she fought the urge to pull away.
"Yes," she answered shakily, shivering when his thumbs brushed over her skin.
"Your parents are not pleased that you have taken this position."
She tried to jerk her hands away from him, but his fingers tightened. She clenched her jaw, forced to watch him run his thumbs over the scarred skin. She fought the urge to shiver.
"Answer," he demanded quietly.
She straightened her spine and stared at him. He slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. She watched his lips curve.
"A bit of fight in you, after all," he said, leaning down to her level.
She bit her lip, but did not answer.
"First you lie to me about your age and now this refusal to speak of your parents."
She watched dark amusement fill his gaze. He tipped his head to the side, as if examining her. She flinched when he suddenly pulled up her right sleeve. His gaze dropped to look at her arm.
"Not pleased, at all."
She refused to look at the bruise. She flinched when his fingertips lightly dragged over the handprint.
"One of many?"
She closed her eyes and turned her face away.
"Let me guess..." he started, grasping her chin and turning her head toward him.
She bit the inside of her cheek.
"Big brother was the favorite," he whispered in her ear.
She fought to turn her head, but his fingers did not loosen.
"And he was the only thing between you and a good beating."
She flinched.
"Open your eyes," he demanded.
She shook her head as much as she could with his tight grip.
"I won't tell you again."
She slowly blinked her eyes open. His face was only inches from hers, close enough that she could feel his breath on her face. It smelled spicy.
"Tell me I am correct."
She let out a shaky sigh and nodded. His gaze fell from hers to frown at her face. She fought not to flinch at the light brush of his thumb across the skin beneath her eye. Her eyes widened when he stared at his hand intensely. She watched him rub his thumb against his first finger, as if pondering her tear. He stepped back from her and turned away.
...
His anger vanished the moment he saw the tear drop from her lower lashes. It rolled down her pale cheek slowly, seeming to pause so he could capture it. He could not keep his hand from rising to her face. Her reddened eyes watched him warily and the sick feeling in his stomach increased. The ator burned brighter after he caught the tear on his thumb.
He felt her eyes on him, questioning his behavior, but he could not summon the anger to snap at her. The dark, twisting feeling faded with each answer she gave. His mind called it anger, but it held an edge of possessiveness. The thought of Williams laying his hands on her. His chest tightened. She shifted behind him, but she did not move away from the wall where he had left her.
"Farran," she called quietly.
"Can you not be silent?" he snarled.
He did not see her flinch, but he heard her sharp inhale. It did not ease the pressure in his chest.
"I'm sor-"
He whirled around and slammed his fist into wall beside her head. She gasped and froze in place. He struggled to control himself, as the bone of his hand re-knit. Her eyes jerked to his hand at the loud snap.
She looked at him in horror. "Your hand-"
He stepped away from her. Her gaze followed him, disbelief flashing in her eyes when he uncurled his fingers to show an undamaged hand. His eyes snapped away from her at the sound of footsteps outside the door. A Dem and the clumsy gate of a human. The scanner beeped and the door slid open. Motlin met his gaze for a split second before
dropping his gaze.
"Sarah?"
Farran took a menacing step toward Handler Williams, but Luke ignored his presence. The human's gaze was fixed on his handler where she still stood against the wall beside the door.
She did not look at the human. "Yes?" she answered, without looking away from him.
He saw Luke from the corner of his eye. The human looked back and forth between them. "You okay?"
Sarah nodded silently. Her gaze flicked to the human when he took a step toward her.
Farran growled in warning. Williams ignored him, but Sarah moved away from the wall.
"Are you sure? You look a little pale." Williams looked away from her long enough to glance toward him.
"So concerned, human? Must be professional courtesy." He smiled humorlessly.
"Go to your cell, Dem," Williams ordered, before reaching toward Sarah.
Farran felt his control snap. He lunged at the human.
"Farran, no!"
Her cry faded to the background behind the satisfaction of the human's throat under his hands. His gaze fixed on the other man's wide eyes. He felt his lips curve into a cold smile.
"Stop!" a voice yelled desperately.
He growled at a light tugging sensation on his arm.
"You're killing him!"
The meaning of the words slowly filled his mind. He jerked the man from the floor to slam him back down. He imagined he felt the stone give beneath the pressure.
"Stop it!"
Tiny hands clutched at his arm and he swatted at the annoyance. A broken cry barely penetrated the red haze.
"General!" a deeper voice bellowed.
His gaze snapped away from the limp form in his hands to see his head engineer cradling a small figure. He saw a flash of irritation in Motlin's eyes before he dropped his gaze to the girl in his arms.
The ator swirled under her skin like blue flames, wild and angry. Farran met her dazed eyes and felt the sickening clench in his stomach.
...
Sarah blinked hard, struggling to breathe passed the pain in her ribs. Her heart pounded in her chest. The sound filled her ears as she stared up at the ceiling. The air would not come and her heart beat so hard it hurt. She felt a large hand slide between her body and the floor. It pushed her into a sitting position, holding her in place against a warm body. Oxygen suddenly flooded into her lungs. She squeezed her eyes closed and gulped in a lungful of air.
"Remain still, human," a deep voice rumbled.
She nodded weakly. The tingle under her skin increased until it felt like a hum. With each throb of energy, her breaths came easier. The tension spilled from her, leaving her feeling boneless.
"General," the same voice bellowed.
She blinked open her eyes. The room was a blurry mass of colors, but Farran stood out in stark relief. His black gaze fixed on hers and she watched something unnamed flicker in his eyes. Her eyes widened when all of the color drained from his face. He rose quickly, his gaze fixed on a point over her shoulder.
"I apologize for my informal contact with your marked-" the deep voice behind her started.
Farran made a violent slashing motion with his hand and the voice cut off. Sarah looked away from him to peek over her shoulder. Motlin's stormy gaze snapped to hers. She looked away. "Is-is Luke alive?" she asked to break the uncomfortable silence.
Farran sent her a dark look, but nodded.
She sighed in relief.
Farran's eyes narrowed at her.
"Can I check on him?" She watched Farran glare down at Luke from beneath her eyelashes.
He seemed to ponder her question. Finally, he gave her a curt nod. "Remove it from my presence." He turned his back on her.
She gingerly rose from the floor, casting his back an unsure glance.
"Go ahead," Motlin said under his breath.
She sent him a small smile.
He did not return it, but he nodded.
"I have no patience for your vacillation," Farran snarled.
She jerked at the harsh tone, but hurried forward to kneel next to Luke. As she felt for a pulse, her fingers smeared through warm blood. She started to pull away, but Luke let out a soft moan of pain. She forced herself closer, staring hard at his face to avoid the blood on his head and neck.
His eyes blinked open and he squinted up at her. "Sarah?"
She nodded.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
She cringed, as he rolled his head to the side and she saw the blood smear on the stone floor. He let out another low groan, his hands curled into tight fists.
"You're going to be okay, Luke. Just try to lay still." She licked her lips nervously, glancing at Farran's tense back. "I'm going to get some help."
"The Dems," Luke gasped, he eyes looking around frantically, as he grabbed her hand.
Sarah shook her head.
"Security," he whispered weakly. He stared at her for another minute, before his eyes fell closed.
Sarah stared at his slack face. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She glanced at the two Dems.
Motlin slowly stood from the floor and turned toward his cell. She watched him step inside the small space. When she turned her head back to Farran, he stared at her.
"Will you go to your cell?" she asked him quietly.
His eyes narrowed.
She sighed quietly. "Please?"
His gaze moved between her and Luke's prone form. She could almost feel his hatred toward the man. He gave her a look she could not interpret and walked to his cell.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He did not reply.
She quickly secured both cells and hurried to the main hall. She could feel the eyes of the Dems on her, the moment she explained the situation to Keane.
"Where were you when this attack took place," he demanded, after he sent several handlers to Corridor One.
"I was there, sir."
He snorted. "Then, how did this happen?"
She cringed at his tone. "I tried to get Farran-"
"The Dem," he yelled.
She flinched. "I tried to get the Dem to stop, but-"
"But, what?" he sneered. "He wouldn't listen to you? Did you even think to use your weapon?"
Sarah's eyes dropped to the stunner at her hip. She shook her head. "It happened so fast-"
"That is no excuse!"
"I know I should have-"
"Should have what? Done something other than stand around with your thumb up your ass? Hell yes, you should have!"
Sarah's eyes jerked to the Dems when several shifted.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Mackenzie!"
Her eyes flew back to the man glaring at her.
"You know what? Get out of my sight." He gave her a disgusted look.
She froze. "What?"
"I said, get the hell out of here, Mackenzie! I don't want to see you back here until Monday. Consider yourself suspended." He turned away from her to watch the handlers carry Luke's body across the main hall.
"I'm so sor-" she started.
"I don't want to hear it, Mackenzie. You're out of here. Five days. No pay. Be happy it's not more."
She blinked away the moisture in her eyes and nodded. "Yes, sir." She turned to walk away.
"The Dem will be on lock down until you return."
She froze.
"You should be lucky it's not another ten year solitary."
She swallowed hard, her back still facing him. "Thank you, sir."
"Because we both know what happens to a handler without a shift, don't we?" he continued, as if she had not spoken.
She nodded silently, staring at the wall unseeing.
"I don't think those vouchers would go nearly far enough, do you? And it being winter, too..." he tsked.
She forced herself to walk to the door. Her hand shook when she pressed it to the scanner, but the door slid open.
"Think about what I said. You've got the time," Keane called, as t
he door closed behind her.
She shivered.
Chapter Eight
The Origin of Flame
She sat in the center of her bed with her back to the headboard. Her fingers toyed with the loose threads of her quilt, as she looked around her bedroom. Four blank white walls looked back at her. As her eyes moved over the sparse furniture in the room, the argument downstairs continued.
"This is your fault, Mary! I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen. And now, look what's happened. She's completely out of control."
"How dare you try to lay this on me! It's your damn brother's fault. I always said he was a bad influence. Him and that witch he married."
Sarah flinched. She slipped her hand under her pillow to touch the hidden book.
"Jean-Anne told me she's been snooping around the library. Some kind of nonsense about the Dems. Tell me she didn't get that shit from your side of the family," her mother continued.
Sarah heard a sharp smack.
"Now, see what you made me do?" her father yelled.
She pulled her knees up to her chest and stared at her bedroom door. The sound of broken sobs drifted up the stairwell and she clenched her fists tightly.
A moment later, something metal clanged against the ceramic kitchen sink. She jumped at the noise, pressing harder against the headboard.
"Clean this shit up!"
She tensed at the sound of heavy footsteps walking toward the front of the house. They continued past the stairs to the front door.
"There's gonna be some changes around here, Mary! I've had enough of this bullshit. That fuckin' girl, the neighbors talkin', my boy in the hospital-" The slam of the door cut off his rant.
Sarah held her breath, only relaxing when the sound of his truck's engine faded. She let out a shuddering sigh.
She quickly slide out of bed and tip-toed over to the chair beside her door. It let out a quiet squeak when she lifted it and she paused. The quiet noises continued in the kitchen. She wedged the back of the chair under the door knob and hurried back to her bed.
She reached under her pillow twice before she gathered up the courage to grasp the book. The warm scent of old paper immediately filled the air. She inhaled deeply, tempted to press her nose to the worn pages. She shook her head at herself and gently pulled open the front cover.
