No Light Page 7

  She shook her head and looked around for an empty table. Her eyes landed on Luke near the other end of the room. Peeking over her shoulder to be sure Farran was working, she hurried over to her supervisor.

  "Hi. Can I sit?" She smiled at the way Luke jumped.

  He turned to look over his shoulder at her. His eyes immediately crinkled as he gave her a bright smile. "Of course. Please sit." He waved toward the chair next to him.

  Sarah looked around at the surrounding Dems, but sat in the chair he offered. "Why are there so many people in here," she whispered.

  Luke looked away from her long enough to scan the room. "Scheduling conflict. I heard the department that handles the Dem activities is going through a few changes." He raised his eyebrows.

  Sarah frowned. "Because of the upcoming elections?" At his nod, she looked toward Farran. "Keane has other plans for The Corridor." Since it was not a question, Luke did not bother answering.

  He sighed. "There's a lot of things you don't know, Sarah." He met her gaze. "I'd like to meet you outside of here and talk about it."

  Sarah stared at him. "Where?" She fought down a nervous flutter in her stomach.

  "Indeed," a deep voice interjected. "Where would this talk take place?" There was something frightening about the way the voice added emphasis to the word 'talk'.

  "I don't remember giving you permission to speak, Dem," Luke said angrily.

  Sarah jerked her head around to see the owner of the voice. A Dem with chestnut hair and cool, grey eyes scowled down at them. His furious gaze moved from her to Luke and back. Sarah looked back and forth between the two of them. Luke's eyes were narrowed and his jaw was tensed, as if he were preparing for a fight.

  "I need to go check on Farran," Sarah said quickly, standing from her chair.

  The Dem's gaze moved to her and he tipped his head. Something like interest moved behind his gaze. Sarah looked away and hurried past him. Halfway across the room, the overhead lights flickered. She paused, looking up. The light flickered again, staying off for a full second before returning.

  She glanced around the room to see worried faces, before she turned to look toward Farran. He watched her, an unreadable look on his face. She frowned, glancing at the other Dems. Anticipation filled the air. It made her shiver. Her back tense, she continued forward slowly. Then, the lights winked out.

  She immediately froze. The pregnant pause fell away, as someone shouted. She felt her eyes strain to catch any shred of light. There was none. She stretched her arms out in front of her and took a step forward.

  Immediately, she felt the press of a table edge against her thigh. The pressure irritated the fading bruise on her hip. She fought not to wince. Someone moved past her in the darkness, displacing the air.

  Her breaths were loud in her ears. Even over the growing noise of panicked voices, she could hear her inhales becoming gasps. Every muscle tensed, as adrenaline poured into her system. Something brushed against her hair, just a light whisper of a touch. She arched away from it, clenching her jaw.

  "Human," a voice hissed into her left ear.

  Her head jerked, her body instinctively cringing away. She took a step to her right, scooting her foot along the stone to avoid tripping.

  "Look how you shiver, human." The voice was distinctly different from the first. The consonants sharper, the vowels round.

  Sarah struggled to place the voices. Another brush came, pressure between her shoulder blades. Her breath caught when the hand lingered.

  "Nyctophobia. Fear of the dark."

  Sarah froze, then jerked her head toward the familiar voice. "Farran?"

  "Does the darkness frighten you, child?" His familiar rolling tone seemed to caress the side of her face.

  She turned her face toward him. Her eyes closed at the feel of warm breath against her skin. "Farran."

  "Sarah." The tone was deeper than she had ever heard it.

  She blinked into the darkness. "What's happened?"

  After a long pause, "It is complicated." There was a light rustle.

  Sarah frowned, wondering at the tone. She squinted. "What are you doing?"

  "Silence."

  Sarah cringed at the sharpness, but clamped her mouth shut. She tipped her head down, where his voice seemed to originate. Slowly, she reached out.

  "Stop."

  There was something warm and silky under her fingertips. In fascination, she ignored his command and trailed her hand over it until she felt skin. Cool skin, then what was clearly a brow line.

  "Cease."

  She bit her lip, but did not drop her hand. A low growl made her pause. The body beneath her hand nearly vibrated with energy. She turned her palm toward a rough cheek.

  "Sarah." His words seemed to be forced from between clenched teeth.

  Sarah tipped her head to the side. She started to drop her hand. A larger, cooler one clamped around her wrist and she froze.

  "Do not. Not ever." His hand released her.

  Her eyes widened at the quiet words.

  As fast as the darkness came, it fled. The overhead fluorescents blazed on, filling the room with light so bright it was blinding. Sarah shut her eyes, breathing slowly through her nose. She heard the other handlers yelling and moving around her. The grating sound of the chairs against the stone floor set her teeth on edge, but she forced her eyes open.

  Still stinging, her eyes found Farran. He sat in a chair in front of her, head bowed in a gesture of submission. Her eyes widened. His head tipped back far enough for their eyes to meet, before he dropped his chin.

  "Handler Mackenzie."

  Sarah jerked her head to look at her supervisor, but Luke's gaze was on Farran. His eyes narrowed, then swung to her.

  "Good work, Handler Mackenzie." He stared at her, as if there was more he intended to say. After a moment, he nodded and left.

  Sarah sighed. She watched him until he spoke to one of her fellow handlers. Sure he was distracted, she looked at Farran, again.

  "What was that?"

  "I would like to return to my cell." His tone was quiet, as if he were asking rather than telling.

  "Alright."

  Sarah glanced around as Farran rose to his feet gracefully. Luke stood on the other side of the busy room, once again staring in her direction. She watched his eyes follow Farran, a strange look crossing his face. When his eyes met hers, the expression vanished. He gave her a small nod, and turned away. Sarah continued to watch him for a moment, before looking back at the Dem.

  Farran's gaze moved from Luke to her and back. She saw his eyes darken a moment before he turned away. She thought she heard a quiet growl. He did not look around, immediately heading for the door to Corridor One. Sarah paused, watching his tense shoulders as he walked. A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself to follow him.

  As soon as she opened the door, his long strides carried him down the hallway. He ignored her presence. He waited at the far end of the hallway and continued to stare at the door, as she approached. His lack of attention made her skin prickle. He did not so much as glance at her, as she pressed her palm to the scanner and the door slid open. She watched him silently walk through the doorway ahead of her.

  For a moment, she paused, her feet refusing to let her step forward. A horrible clenching in her stomach made her swallow hard. She took a deep breath and moved closer. The silent closing of the door behind her made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

  The second the door shut fully, the Dem turned to face her. Sarah took a step back from the cold blackness of his gaze.

  "I-" Unsure how to finish the thought without making him angry, she fell silent.

  He cocked his head to the side. The lack of emotion in his face made her lean away from him slightly. Her eyes dropped to look at his fisted hands. When she looked up, he seemed closer. She watched shadows move in the darkness of his eyes.

  "I didn’t mean — I'm sorry," she whispered.

  The reaction was instantaneous. He
lunged for her, his hands clamping down on her arms. She cut off her sharp cry of pain, clenching her jaw as he slammed her against the wall. Her skull hit the stone with a subdued thud, as bright light erupted behind her eyes. She blinked hard.

  His face was less than an inch from hers, low, angry words pouring from his mouth. She squinted at him, trying to make sense of the stream of sounds. His narrowed gaze was fastened on her face, fury sparking in his eyes like shots of electricity. Sarah tried to focus on his face, but darkness began to creep in on the edge of her vision.

  He shook her hard, and her eyes snapped open. Her arms ached where he gripped her. The fingers on her right hand tingled, as if he had compressed a nerve. Her vision shifted, and she realized her head had lolled to the side. She opened her mouth, but only a quiet gasp escaped.

  He suddenly froze. His eyes looked over her face, before boring into her eyes. He scowled. Sarah blinked at him slowly, vaguely aware that he was asking her something. She watched his lips move, trying to focus on his face past the fog that surrounded her. She blinked. When she opened her eyes again, she was laying on the bench in the center of the corridor.

  "You are a stupid human," Farran's voice growled from nearby.

  Sarah stared at the ceiling above her. She slowly turned her head to find Farran's eyes mere inches from hers. She blinked in confusion, taking in his annoyed expression and their proximity. She shifted and felt warmth instead of cold stone. Her eyes widened. Jerking herself into a sitting position, she ignored the spots that danced across her vision.

  "What —" she started to ask, her gaze quickly moving over the Dem and her position in his lap. "Why —" her eyes widened further when she realized his arms around her waist. "What?" She thought she saw amusement shine through the irritation, for a moment.

  "Your weak, pathetic, human body is easily broken."

  At the Dem's words, Sarah looked down at herself. Everything appeared to be intact. She frowned in confusion.

  "Your skull nearly fractured when it collided with the wall," he spat, with something that sounded like disgust.

  Sarah's eyes widened. She slowly reached up to touch the back of her head. Flinching violently, she pulled her hand away quickly. Warm slickness covered her fingertips. She brought her hand back to her lap to stare down at the blood on her hands.

  "You see?" the Dem snarled.

  "You…" she trailed off, looking up at him. Horror flowed through her like ice water. She shoved at his chest, freeing herself easily in his surprise. She moved away from him quickly, her eyes dropping to look at the blood she had left on the front of his jumpsuit.

  "You tried to kill me," she accused. She moved back again, as he stood from the bench. "You wanted to kill me?" She watched a strange emotion cross his face before it vanished.

  "You think you are any different from the other humans?" he growled, prowling closer to her. "You are as loathsome as the rest of your disgusting species."

  Sarah flinched back from the hateful words. Her eyes moved toward the door to his cell. "Please go your cell, Dem."

  He did not move. His eyes narrowed, as he stood taller. "What can you do if I will not?"

  Sarah heard the challenge, the pure aggression in his tone. She frowned. "I will make you go." Part of her shrank back at his expression, but something drove her forward.

  She took several purposeful steps toward him, before her vision blurred. Head spinning, she stumbled, instinctively reaching out for something to break her fall. The room shifted around her, until large hands gripped her waist. Her legs collapsed under her and she blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of the fabric against her cheek.

  "You will make me do nothing."

  …

  Her body was so light it was like holding nothing at all. He frowned down into her eyes and again felt a twinge of remorse. He snarled at himself for the emotion. She was a human. Her very humanity made her disposable. What did it matter if he accidentally injured her? Even as he thought it, he looked down at her small hands against his chest.

  It had to be the marks. He growled under his breath at his stupidity in marking her. Without the marks, he would feel no remorse at harming her. Instead, her pain made him nearly sick. He cursed himself for what seemed like the hundredth time. His eyes scanned the room, landing on his cell.

  Lifting her until her cheek lay against his shoulder, he adjusted his grip and carried her into his cell. She let out a soft moan of pain in her sleep, shifting against him. The remorse washed over him again. He viciously shoved it down, walking toward his cot. As he sat with her in his lap, he bit out a curse in his native tongue.

  His eyes could not help but see the blue ator that swirled under her skin, proving her marks had taken full effect. He could almost see the damage reversing itself. Her bruises would be gone in a matter of minutes, her concussion soon after. Even with the marks separating her from the rest of humanity, he could not help but be annoyed at her fragility.

  He looked away from his cell door, to frown at her. He snarled at the way his arms had chosen to cradle her without his permission. He tried to shove her away, but his body refused to obey him. If anything, his movement brought her closer. Grinding his teeth, he jerked his gaze away from her peaceful face. The same sick feeling returned to his stomach, as his mind replayed the events leading up to her injury.

  He had watched Azzan and Balendin circle her, her wide, frightened eyes searching the darkness, as the Dems tormented her. She continued to move in his direction, flinching each time one of the Dems came too close. The faint glow of the ator made his eyes narrow. He was moving before he made a conscious decision to aid her.

  Azzan and Balendin leapt away from her the moment they noticed his ator. Alarmed, they turned to look at him in confusion. He bared his teeth, furious they would think to question him. Ignoring their bows of respect, he circled around Sarah to place his hand on her back. He looked up to see his Dems slinking away, before he bent to whisper in her ear.

  Her obvious fear of the dark, both amused and irritated him. He watched in fascination, as the ator quickly vanished in his presence. The threat deemed passed, the blue fire faded into her pale skin. His chains jingled quietly when he moved around her.

  He found himself bending closer, fascinated by the way she leaned toward him. He had given her no reason to believe he would not take advantage of her momentary blindness. Yet, she turned toward him, tipping her head back to gaze toward his face. Something about it, deepened his voice to a near purr. When she questioned about the blackout, he glanced around the room. He gave her a vague answer, narrowing his eyes at his second.

  Tradis' head tipped up toward the ceiling. A moment later, Farran saw a tiny flicker of light in the dark fluorescents. He snarled, but dropped into the chair in front of the human. She began to question him immediately. He grit his teeth, watching the senior handlers. Handler Williams stared toward Farran's corner of the room, Motlin standing to his left.

  Sarah's first touch jerked his attention away from the handler. He looked up at her in shock. When she continued to touch him, the shock faded to anger. Such blatant disregard for a superior, almost took his breath away. The fury built every second the human touched him. He tried to ignore the tingle that radiated out from the place where their skin met. Feeling himself shaking, he growled.

  She refused to obey him, continuing to move her disgusting human skin against his. His face twisted into a silent snarl of frustration, the disgust he wanted to feel refusing to come forward. It made his fury toward her build.

  She disobeyed him until he grabbed her wrist. It was difficult to speak past the rage, but he managed. When the lights flickered to life, he had to drop his gaze to hide his feelings from Handler Williams.

  The scene faded from his mind, as he looked down at the unconscious female in his lap. The ator was receding, having done its job. He rolled her head to the side to see the bloody gash had vanished. He tried to ignore the, now familiar, bite of regret. He wrapp
ed his hand around her upper arm loosely, feeling the size of her thin limb.

  His thumb covered his fingertips, forming a complete cuff. He grimaced. She was petite, fragile. His gaze moved to her tiny hands splayed against his chest. The fingers would barely extend past the palm of his hand. He shook his head, remembering the flare of the ator when her head struck the wall. It had first infuriated him, and then caused the painful clenching in his stomach. He tore his eyes away from her, as her eyelids began to flutter.

  Chapter Six

  Drowning Song

  It was the tickle under her skin that brought her to awareness. A moment later, the warmth pressed against her right side shifted. Her eyes popped open.

  "Sarah." The Dem said her name as if it were a statement.

  She slowly turned her head to the side, rough fabric skimming her cheek. Her eyes landed on his chest, before they rose to his face. He did not look at her, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

  She blinked up at him. As if he felt her gaze, his jaw clenched and he glanced at her. The usual anger was absent, his eyes a light jade green, but something nagged at her.

  She frowned at a strange coppery taste in her mouth. A buzz started in the back of her mind, pulsing with each beat of her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut. Words, soft and foreign, joined the pulse.

  "What is that?" She cringed at the roughness of her voice.

  The voice became louder, the accent somehow familiar. She clasped her hands over her ears, struggling to stop the noise.

  "It's so loud!" She looked up at Farran through watery eyes.

  He appeared to study her. "What do you hear?"

  The moment he spoke, the sound stopped. In the deafening silence, Sarah blinked in confusion.

  "It's-" She frowned and shook her head. "I don't know. It's gone, now."

  "Interesting."

  He abruptly stood, shoving her from his lap onto the stone bench beside him. Sarah winced at the sharp landing. She looked up to see him pacing across the width of the cell, passing in front of the cell bars with two long strides.