Racing Hearts (Shadow Quest 4.5) (9 page)

Fuzzily, she awoke. Awareness came to
her slowly as her mind brushed away the thick haze. She was no
longer curled in a ball on a cold hard ground. Keeping her eyes
closed, she accessed her other senses to evaluate her
situation.

Her chest hurt, and her limbs were
heavy and unresponsive. She was lying on something that was soft
but firm. A musky fragrance lingered nearby. Cautiously, she peeked
from underneath her lashes.

The beautiful being that she had
thought would guide her through the portals of death loomed over
her. No longer were his eyes warm, but an immense coldness covered
his features. She realized then that she must be alive. Fear swept
through her with renewed strength, and her heart sped. His eyes
flickered toward her as he noticed she was awake.

In a deep, too calm voice, he asked,
“Where did you come from?”

It unnerved her because Darius would
sound that way when the pain was about to start. She stifled a
whimper, seeing this man as her newest threat. He could be just
like Darius, especially if he found out about her gift. She wanted
to curl up into a protective ball, but her arms and legs felt like
lead.

Growing visibly impatient, the man
waited for her answer.

She didn't know how
she
should
answer.
Would he take her back to
Extarga
if she told him? She thought he might. He did
business with Darius and would want to stay on good terms with him.
Yes, he would definitely return her to hell.

Maybe she shouldn't answer
at all. Pretend ignorance of his language. Pasting a look of
confusion on her face, she shook her head as if to say,
I don't understand
. The
small movement was painful, causing her eyes to go temporarily
blind. She let her head drop to the soft pillow.

“Sebastian, she's still recovering,” a
voice offered from her right.

Her gaze darted painfully to the other
man. She recognized him as a doctor. Sebastian's harsh gaze didn't
waver. It became darker as he silently demanded a response from
her. She decided to remain quiet.

“When did you sneak onto my ship?” He
emphasized the word “my.” When she didn't answer, he leaned his
body over her, bringing his face close to hers. His hands landed on
either side of her head, boxing her in. Two inches was the only
thing that separated them. “You will answer me.”

The warmth of his breath rolled over
her and stroked her skin, making her shiver. She stared, wide eyed.
His golden glare bore into her, demanding obedience and surrender.
Something protruding from his hair caught her attention.

Horns?

Her heart picked up a notch, and her
breath hitched. His features were godlike, perfectly shaped. She
felt the need to touch his face, but her arms still would not
respond.

Then, for some reason, she became
hypnotized by his lips. As she inhaled his delicious scent, her
mouth watered for a taste. Ever so slowly, she inched forward. His
lips parted slightly, encouraging her. With a start, she realized
she was becoming…aroused?

Thankfully the doctor interjected,
freeing her gaze and putting an end to…whatever it was she was
about to do. “Can you speak, miss?”

Sebastian pushed away from her with a
growl.

They must have given her something, she
rationalized, some kind of drug. Darius never hesitated to keep her
sedated for long periods of time. Grinding her teeth, she thought
this was turning out to be just another hell ship.

Then she realized why she couldn't move
her arms or legs. She was strapped down. All thought left her, and
she cried out, struggling against the restraints. Anger soon turned
into panic as she fought uselessly to free herself.

The doctor placed his hands on her
shoulders to hold her still. “It's okay. We only strapped you down
so you wouldn't roll off the bed.”

His attempt to calm her didn't work. As
she continued to flail she could feel the skin around her wrists
start to break and bleed. Breathing was becoming labored as the
panic grew like a virus inside her.

“Calm yourself, woman.” Amazingly, she
stilled at Sebastian's clipped words. His voice, still commanding,
held a hint of concern. Or was she imagining that? Staring straight
at the ceiling, drawing in deep breaths, she contemplated how that
one phrase had diminished her distress.

The drugs, she quickly surmised. The
concern in his voice was only for his equipment and not for her
well-being. She registered the feel of hot tears streaming down her
face.

Sebastian continued. “The restraints
will stay until I receive answers.”

“How do you feel?” The doctor resumed
his questioning, as if he hadn't stripped her will away with his
tonics.

She locked her jaw and stubbornly
refused to talk.

He then focused his attention on
Sebastian, and they began speaking as if she wasn't there. “I've
healed her as best I can, though I suggest she get some sustenance
in her, so her body can take over the healing process. I'm not sure
what species she is. The shape of her ears should give us a
clue.”

Analia knew her ears were abnormal,
pointed with a slightly rounded tip. She had never seen anyone with
ears like hers. It was the one thing that made her feel more alone
than being locked away in isolation.

“What of her blood sample? Have you
found anything there?”

Blood!
Would they be able to determine her ability through her blood?
Would there be something different about it? How could there not
be? Everything about her was different. She swallowed
hard.

Sebastian keenly noticed her reaction
to his words and gave her a crooked smile. She hated herself for
thinking it sexy.

“So you
can
understand us.” It wasn't a
question. “Then you can answer my questions. Where did you come
from? When?”

Analia nibbled her bottom lip, sickened
at not being able to better control her emotions.

Sebastian grated, “Tell me, damn
you…What is your name?” She flinched. He took note of her reaction
and calmed his tone. “Just give me a name.”

A name wouldn't hurt. It wouldn't tell
him anything about where she had come from. She hesitated for a
moment and then opened her lips to speak, but stopped, however, at
her dry cracked throat. She had to swallow several times before she
could speak.

Noticing her discomfort, the doctor
lifted a glass of water to her mouth. She turned her head away,
refusing to drink. The last thing she needed was more of their
concoctions in her system. Shrugging, he put the glass back
down.

“My name is Analia.” Her voice was
pained.

“Analia,” Sebastian repeated in his
deep rumble. She stifled another shiver at the sound of her name on
his tongue. “Let the doctor give you some water,
Analia.”

“No.” She cleared her throat, trying to
summon her own moisture.

“Why not? You must be
thirsty.”

“Because you've most likely drugged it.
You've already given me something, I can tell, it's making me
react…differently.”

Sebastian glanced at the doctor. “Have
you given her anything?”

The doctor shook his head. “Nothing out
of the ordinary.” He paused. “But, again, I haven't been able to
determine her species. She may be having a reaction to one of our
medicines.” Focusing on her again, the doctor asked, “How are you
feeling exactly?”

“I…just…” She couldn't tell him that
she seemed to desire his captain. “I just feel strange.” Her head
fell back, and she allowed her eyes to close as a wave of dizziness
washed through her.

“You need to drink some water. It will
make you feel better,” Sebastian commanded.

Again she refused with a simple shake
of her head.

“We haven't drugged it, I promise
you.”

“I have no reason to take your word on
it.”

A tick started in his jaw. She got the
feeling that he wasn't used to being disobeyed. He reached for the
glass and took a swift gulp. Analia watched the thick muscles of
his throat work as he swallowed. “There, is that enough proof for
you?”

“You could be immune,” she
rasped.

Growling, he shoved the glass at her.
“Drink it or I'll make you drink it.”

A hard dry lump stuck in her throat.
She tried to reach out for the glass, but her bindings held her
tight.

Frustrated, she began struggling again.
Sebastian placed his hand on her stomach, and she froze completely,
shocked at its gentle weight.

Afraid to look at him and risk becoming
entranced once more, she kept her gaze on the ceiling. Her stomach
quivered under his palm. “Remove your hand,” she managed, though
her voice was less commanding than she meant for it to
be.

“If you promise to stay calm and take a
drink, I will free you from your restraints.”

Slowly, she nodded, not trusting him in
the least. He began at her feet, his hands brushing her skin,
leaving trails of warmth followed by a lingering coolness. Where he
touched her, she felt a jolt of energy.

To her humiliation, her body began to
react again. What did it think? That he was going to take her here?
On the table? In front of the doctor? The thought sobered her. She
didn't want anything to do with him. He was just another obstacle
keeping her from her freedom.

After he unclasped her
wrists, she sat up and allowed her legs to drop over the edge of
the bed. As if to say
a deal’s a
deal
, he held out the glass. She took it
and dared a sip. It tasted…okay. The small amount of liquid was
quickly absorbed by her dry tongue, and she took another sip. Soon
she was gulping back the cool drink with fervor, barely taking a
moment to gasp for air. She hadn't realized how badly she was in
need of it.

“Good girl,” Sebastian said when she
set down the empty glass.

Then he scooped her up in his arms.
She'd been so taken by surprise at the sudden action that she'd
actually wrapped her arms around his neck for support. When she
realized what she was doing, she weakly pushed away from
him.

She wasn't long in his grasp, as he had
only crossed to the other side of the room and set her down on a
thin cot within a small alcove—which became like a small room when
a solid beam of energy flashed between them.

A force field?

It was transparent with a slight haze,
masking everything on the other side in an auburn hue.

From one prison to
another!

“There. You're free of your
restraints.”

She made a rough noise in her throat.
“You call this free?”

“It's as free as you're allowed on my
ship. You've committed a serious crime by smuggling yourself onto
my ship. It requires serious punishment. I'm willing to be lenient,
though. If you tell me where you came from, I promise to take you
back there unharmed.”

“I'd rather die,” she
supplied.

He raised an eyebrow and
waited a moment before speaking again. “You're in luck then. The
punishment for your crime
is
death.” He scanned for a reaction. When he didn't
receive one, he continued. “If you don't tell me where you came
from, then your only other option is to be released into space.
Actually, you'd be releasing yourself into space. In my culture it
would be seen as an honorable death.” He crossed his arms in
expectation.

Analia considered his words carefully.
He was offering her death at her own hand. She'd contemplated
suicide before—many, many times before. But, as closely guarded as
she’d been, she never found ample opportunity. Now it was being
offered to her on a silver platter.

Thinking over her life, she could only
call up memories of suffering and sorrow. There wasn't a single
moment that brought her joy. No memory sparked a hint of happiness
to make her want to cling to this existence. Could she really push
the button that would end her completely?

Yes.

Her shoulders slumped ever so
slightly.

At least I had
tried
.

Her greatest and, sadly,
sole achievement was her escape from
Extarga
. If she were dead, Darius
could truly never hurt her again. The time she had spent in the
small maintenance room had changed her completely. Even though she
was technically still trapped, it was a small taste of what true
freedom could be. It had been her choice, her decision, and no one
else’s, that brought her here now. She had felt the power of
freedom and knew she could never go back. The moment she set one
foot back on the Hell Ship would be the moment her spirit broke
completely, reducing her to a mere shell of herself.

And here she was, locked up
at the amusement of yet another arrogant captain. If she couldn't
be
physically
free, then his offer was the only way to end her
suffering.