Beyond the Rain (4 page)

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Authors: Jess Granger

BOOK: Beyond the Rain
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With a frustrated jerk, she pulled her hair over her shoulder. The truth was, she did feel like herself again. Her body seemed looser and stronger, her focus complete, and her eyes no longer burned from exhaustion.
“What does green mean anyway?” she asked so she wouldn’t have to admit out loud that he was right.
“What are you talking about?” He stared at her as Vicca circled his legs with the rock in her mouth.
“Your eyes turn yellow when you’re agitated or frightened, black when you’re sad, red when you’re angry. What is green?” She bunched her hair together and tied it in a loose knot.
“My eyes are green?” His voice sounded strange.
“I’m not in the mood to play, Soren. Why would I say they were if they weren’t?” She thrust her hands on her hips and tried to glare at him without looking him in the eye. It didn’t work. Instead she focused on his mouth. She shivered as she remembered how it felt pressed against the back of her neck.
He rubbed his jaw as a smile spread over his face.
“Well?” she demanded.
“Green is happy.” He stooped to pick up Vicca’s rock.
“What?!” Cyani slammed the palm of her hand against the wall. Her face flushed with heat. “Now I
am
going to break your nose.”
“I’m sorry you’re angry, but I’m not sorry about what I did, so get over it.” His jaw set and he rose to his full imposing height. She tilted her chin up just slightly in defiance.
“We are stuck in a pit on a rock in the deepest cesspool of space. What in the name of Fima the Merciless are you so happy about?”
He dropped his attention down to her fox. Vicca danced in a circle on her hind legs, and he flicked the rock up the tunnel. She raced after it, her back legs slipping on the stone.
“Let me think,” he began, his tone entirely too sarcastic for her liking. “I’m able to speak my native language for the first time in longer than I can remember. I spent the night warm and comfortable with a beautiful and courageous woman instead of blind and shackled to a wall. I feel strong. And Vicca taught me this amusing little game.” His smile widened. “It was a very good night.”
For the first time, Cyani noticed he was not speaking Garu. “Com, assess ability to translate for language Byra.”
Language: Byra. Ability to translate: 78 percnt width="1em">
“The com is a very fast learner.” Soren shrugged as Vicca trotted back into the room with the rock.
“I don’t believe it.” She stood in shock. There was no conceivable way for the com to reach that level so quickly. Did it already know Byra? But then why couldn’t she access it earlier?
“If I never hear or speak that filthy language again, I will die a happy man.” He flicked the rock up the passage again.
“Soren . . .” Cyani rubbed the bridge of her nose between her eyes.
“What?” he asked, turning his attention fully to her.
“Do you have any idea how angry I am?”
“Rot, Cyani, listen to yourself,” he admonished. “I helped you. I did nothing but help you. Your problem is the only creature you trust is Vicca.” He scooped up Vicca and held the fox out to her. “Be angry all you want. I’m sure you’ll never forgive me.” Sarcasm dripped from his words as he thrust Vicca into her arms.
Cyani stood, shocked, as Vicca pressed her silky head under her chin and purred. Realizing she was gaping, she snapped her jaw shut. No, he couldn’t be right. That wasn’t it. He was wrong. She wasn’t that isolated, that afraid.
“That isn’t it at all,” she argued, gently dropping Vicca to the floor.
“No? Enlighten me.” Soren crossed his arms, seeming so strong and sure of himself.
What was bothering her, really? She had slept deeply using him as an enormous male pillow. Was it the contact with him that bothered her?
No, yes . . . No!
She didn’t want to think about her attraction to him. She needed to deny it, needed to keep her distance. Unwilling to discuss the fact that he made her feel like a woman, she turned the argument back to the beginning.
“I told you I didn’t want you to hypnotize me and you did it anyway.”
“I see.” He still didn’t seem concerned.
“Do you see? Do you really, Soren?”
“I see more than you think I do. You’re upset that I disobeyed orders.” He tilted his head and shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not one of your soldiers, Cyani.”
“I’m trying to save our lives . . .”
“Which is why I’m trying to look out for your health, but you won’t eat, and you wouldn’t sleep. This is not a training exercise. You do not need to prove to me how strong you are.” His voice rose, and her heart pounded loud in her ears. “I know how strong you are.”
Cyani froze. His words struck her as deeply as a shock blast to her heart. He thought she was strong? If only he knew how terrified she really felt. She wasn’t strong at all. No, any moment she would give in to her dark thoughts and the pressure of their situation would crush her.
“You betrayed my trust,” she whispered, once again avoiding thoughts best left in the dark.
He took a step toward her. “I didn’t realize you gave it to me,” he murmured. His scent, it reminded her of sunlight on leaves and the scent of pike flowers on the wind. It enveloped her as she dropped her gaze to his feet and tried to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. She didn’t want him to come any closer. The slightly spicy fragrance of his skin made her feel dizzy and hot. She reminded herseont size="3">“Is that an order, Captain?” His whispered voice floated over her. She closed her eyes, trying to fight the burning she felt deep inside her body. She could hear the whip cracking, the Grand Sister’s hard voice, the agonizing silence of the other Elite every time she entered a room. She was so alone. His fingertips brushed over the tingling skin of her cheek.
She took a step back, turning from him. He pushed forward in step. They continued the dance until her back pressed against the cold wall.
“Look at me,” he demanded in a husky whisper.
She refused, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground.
“Blight and rot, Cyani, look at me.” He reached behind her ear, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of her skull. He cradled her face in his warm and gentle palm, and slowly tilted her face up. She wanted to grab his hand and twist his fingers, but something in her resisted. She let the forbidden touch linger as she opened her eyes, daring him to hypnotize her again.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, “but you don’t listen to me.”
He leaned forward. His face was so close to hers she could feel the prickling tingle of anticipation in her lips.
“If you don’t listen to me, I can’t help us,” he continued. He lifted his chin slightly, still not breaching the agonizing gap between them. His eyes glowed with violet fire. “I’ve been helpless far too long. I need to be a part of this.”
Burning with heat, with want, she battled the urge to lean into him, to touch him. Her thoughts turned into a jumble of noise in her head, a constant humming underlined by the frantic beat of her heart. He bunched his hand in her hair beneath the knot, the pressure of the hold firm and commanding. She was tired of fighting. And tired of feeling so isolated.
His fingers loosened their grip, and he slowly pulled away from her. She opened her eyes and fell forward, taking a step to balance herself as she watched his retreat. Confused and irritated, she pressed her lips to the back of her hand to try to stop them from tingling. What was he trying to do to her?
Soren looked down at the floor then turned his attention to Vicca as he crossed the room. She trotted after him, with her rock in her mouth. He stooped to pick up the shirt of his shadowsuit.
Cyani fell against the wall, shaking. The sudden chill of the air felt like ice after the warmth of his body.
What was she doing? Had she completely lost her mind? Suddenly relief that he had not kissed her rushed through her. She did
not
need this. She didn’t need to battle his addictive nature. And she was still mad at him! Wasn’t she?
“Soren, how can I trust you if you can control my mind?” She watched as he pulled the shirt of the shadowsuit over his head. The slightly shimmering black material stretched taut over the muscles in his chest and arms. She couldn’t help staring as each of the defined muscles of his abdomen disappeared under the black fabric. Covering up his chest was a shame. Cyani rolled her eyes. It was official. She had gone insane.
She waited for a response, but he didn’t seem anxious to give her one. Instead, he reached up and ran his fingers through the streaks of reds, browns, gold, and black in his hair then tied it back in a ponytail with a shredded elp stari"1em">
“I’m fine. Just thinking. Let’s go.” She forced herself to focus and followed him into the crumbling building.
Sliding under a slab of wall, she pulled herself up on the other side.
There was some evidence of digging at the base of the warehouse. The Garulen seemed focused on trying to clear a collapsed doorway into the structure. Normally they posted charges to clear debris. There was something inside, something delicate they didn’t want to destroy, and they wanted it back. If they wanted it bad enough, more troops would arrive. They didn’t have much time.
Vicca had discovered a way through the building to the damaged stingships beyond, and hopefully this one was passable. Cyani watched Soren crawl under a section of the collapsed roof and feared for him.
It was dangerous going inside. The building could crumble at any moment, and he was not well.
A shiver of dread slithered down her neck. She couldn’t shake the feeling he was keeping something important from her.
She followed him into the hole, crawling deeper into the heart of the destroyed warehouse. The ominous creak of a metal support beam slowly bending under the pressure of the heavy roof echoed through the cavernous space. The sound chilled her. If a beam failed, another section of the warehouse could collapse. She squeezed through a narrow slit in the stone ahead of her and found herself in a dark room. A dim glow from Soren’s flare lamp flickered beyond a pile of broken crates.
Something clattered to the ground, and the light behind the pile of crates flickered. Vicca barked urgently, her sharp call echoing in the darkness.
“Soren?” Cyani called. He didn’t answer.
A guttural cry filled the room, punctuated by Vicca’s frantic yelps.
“Soren!” she screamed, pushing herself into a run as she heard a loud crash in the chamber beyond.
She wheeled around the crates, slamming into a large pile of rubble as she turned another corner. With her heart thundering in her ears, she leapt to the top of the heap, her adrenaline riding her hard.
Soren lay on the floor, his body stiff and contorted. He wasn’t moving. Matriarchs help her, he wasn’t breathing!
She flew off the rubble heap and knelt by his head. Vicca ran around them yelping in alarm.
“Soren?” She brushed her palm over his cheek, but his jaw remained clenched, his lips pulled back in a macabre grimace. With his eyes pure white and lifeless, he lay twisted, his hands clenched up, frozen, grasping at nothing.
She watched in horror as his skin paled before her eyes. His lips turned purple. He wasn’t getting any air.
“Soren, snap out of this. You can fight this . . .” Her panic rose like a storm within her. The sound of Vicca’s terrified yelp faded into nothing as the thundering heartbeat in her ears blocked out everything else. She reached down and pressed a palm to his chest. She couldn’t feel his heart, and his lungs didn’t pull in any air.
“Come on, Soren,” she ordered. He couldn’t die like this. She ripped open the clasps of his shadowsuit and splayed her hand out on the bare skin of his chest to try to find his heartbeat. It stuttered, then pulsed frantically into her palm.
font size=ungs through the liquid. She inhaled as well, unaware that she had been holding her breath, but the rush of relief was all too brief.
The spasms began.
Cyani lifted Soren’s head onto her thighs, and held on tight to his jaw as his body twisted and shook. His head jerked, slamming back down onto her thighs as spit bubbled from between his lips. His eyelids fluttered and his eyes rolled back. She held his head so he wouldn’t slam it into the stone floor. It was the only thing she could think to do, the only thing she felt she could control. She tried to remember her emergency medical training, but she had nothing, could do nothing.
She closed her eyes, but she couldn’t escape the sharp metallic scent in the air, or the sound of his limbs slapping against the hard stone floor. She wanted to scream and scream to somehow release the stark terror eating away at her as his saliva dripped onto her hands. Instead she let out a helpless gasp and continued to hold on to him, refusing to let go.
His contortions ended almost as quickly as they began and his limbs stiffened once more. She held still, cradling his head in her lap, hoping his labored breathing would not cease again, and the ordeal was finally over.

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