Constance
1 0
Constance
She expected it to hurt more, but the pain didn’t come. Because somehow, this big lump of an alien had wrapped his arms around her, protecting her spine and head.
Why the hell did this keep happening? Where were they now? Before she could process what had happened, there was a grinding sound of stone on stone above them and then silence. The alien molerats’ screeches became muffled, distant. The sound of the machines, too.
The transition was jarring—one moment, they were in a dead-end tunnel with guards bearing down on them, the next, they were…somewhere else. Somewhere darker, if that was possible. The air was different here, too—cooler, damper, with an organic smell she couldn’t quite place.
Constance groaned. “What just happened?” She was still pressed against Akur’s chest, hardly able to see a thing.
“We were rescued.” His voice didn’t hide his suspicion. “Or captured. Again. ”
“By whom? I felt…thought I saw…” She trailed off, unsure of what she’d seen or felt.
“Keep moving,” a voice whispered from the darkness ahead—rough, sexless, impossible to place. “Quickly now.”
Akur stood, taking her with him with an ease that shouldn’t be possible. The moment they were upright, his entire body went rigid. The growl that tore from his throat was unlike anything she’d heard from him before—deep, animalistic, filled with such pure hatred, it made shivers go down her spine.
His hand found her waist, pushing her firmly behind him even as his other arm raised what had to be his sword. The tension in his muscles spoke of barely restrained violence—as if it was taking every bit of energy within him not to tear whatever was before them apart.
“ You .” His single utterance sounded corrosive. Enough to make her suddenly grateful for the barrier his body provided between her and whatever could make him sound like that. His hand on her waist tightened to an almost painful degree, as if he feared someone might try to tear her away.
“There is no time for old grievances,” the voice said from the shadows. “We cannot tarry here. The guards will find this chamber soon.”
She couldn’t tell what species it was. The translator behind her ear made it so she understood what was said, but the voice itself…she couldn’t pinpoint it. This stranger before them wasn’t anyone she knew.
That was obviously not the case for Akur. His growl deepened. Every hair along her arms stood on end. “ You dare speak to me about time ?” The words came out mangled, as if each one had to fight past his hatred to emerge. “After what you—”
“The human will not survive what comes next, Shum’ai,” the voice cut in, still maddeningly neutral. “Neither will you. Not in your condition.”
Constance felt Akur’s muscles bunch. The scrape of his blade against stone told her he’d shifted into an attack stance. But something was off about his movement .
“Akur?” she whispered, pressing her forehead against his spine. His skin burned so hot it felt like pressing her head against an oven.
A wet cough escaped him, and something warm spattered her hand where it rested against his side. Blood. Fresh blood.
“Your wounds are great,” the voice observed almost clinically. “Even a Shum’ai has his limits.”
Akur stiffened, but his blade didn’t waver. “Better death than cower before the likes of you.”
Shifting slightly so she could look around the tall alien guarding her from the threat, Constance’s jaw clenched. She couldn’t see shit. Blast these damn human eyes. But whoever it was had taken them out of immediate danger. That had to mean something. Right?
“Follow me,” the voice said.
“By the gods, I would rather die.”
And she knew he meant it with every fiber of his being. After all, he’d been trying to die this entire time, it seemed.
Pressing her forehead to his back, she felt every labored breath. “We should follow them,” she whispered. “Whoever they are, if they wanted us dead, they wouldn’t have pulled us through that wall.”
The sounds behind the wall grew louder. Dust or small pieces of stone rained down. They were running out of time.
“Your human speaks sense,” the voice said. Was there a note of approval there? “They really are intelligent beings, aren’t they.” That was said with the sort of tone that gave her the distinct impression she was being observed. “The choice is simple: Trust me for the next few hors, or die here now.”
“ Trust you?” Akur’s laugh was awful—raw and filled with something that sounded like madness. “After what your kind has done?”
“I promise you, Shum’ai. If I wished your demise, I would not have to hide in the bowels of the city waiting for the opportune moment to crush you beneath my heel.” The voice remained maddeningly calm. “I ask your trust because this time, our interests align. Or do you think it a coincidence that I am here, in these tunnels, at this precise moment?”
Something in those words made Akur go very still. The trembling in his muscles stopped. When he spoke again, his voice had changed—become harder, more controlled. “You knew we would come this way.”
“I knew there was a possibility.” A whisper of movement in the darkness. “I knew what they would do if they caught you. Both of you. Hiding you in the tunnels was only temporary. I cannot use that method again.”
Wait…what?
“So it was you…” Akur finally said. His words felt so sharp, so heavy they could cut iron.
There was silence again. “I have already said too much.”
The sounds behind the wall grew louder.
“Your lifeblood seeps, Shum’ai, and you are starting your heat,” the voice continued. “If you truly want to save this human…follow me.”
Heat?
As if to emphasize the stranger’s point, the heat coming from Akur felt even hotter than before, as if his fever, or whatever it was, had gone up by several degrees.
This…stranger. Who were they? If she’d learned anything through her counseling sessions, it was that you shouldn’t go trusting voices that spoke to you from the darkness.
But they didn’t exactly have any cards to play here. Just the sound of those guards approaching on the other side of the wall was making her fear ratchet up to alarming levels.
“I know I don’t have the best judgment—” she whispered into Akur’s back.
“Your judgment has been demonstrably poor.”
She would have choked on a laugh if her heart wasn’t beating so hard. More muffled voices came from the other side of the wall.
“We don’t have much of a choice,” she hissed.
“We always have a choice,” Akur growled, shifting his weight to block more of her from the dark shadows that held the stranger. The muscles in his back tightened as if he were about to launch himself forward at any moment .
More muffled sounds filtered through the wall, closer now. The stranger made a soft clicking sound. “Your trust or your lives, Shum’ai. Choose quickly.”
Akur grunted, his back becoming so hard it was like solid rock. His breathing changed, too, becoming deeper, more controlled. The low rumble in his chest told her exactly how much he trusted this situation: not at all. A lump formed in her throat.
Instincts said they had no choice, and she’d already given her opinion. She couldn’t see what he could. Part of her was too afraid to ask. Now it was Akur’s turn to decide which path they took.
As the sounds on the other side of the wall grew louder, Akur’s growl cut off abruptly. His muscles bunched, then released with a sharp exhale. Wordlessly, he moved forward with her still tucked behind him, following their mysterious rescuer down what felt like an even narrower tunnel.
The passage twisted and turned; the floor sloping gradually downward. Water dripped somewhere nearby, creating a constant background patter that made it hard to tell if there was anyone following in the darkness behind them.
“Almost there,” the voice said from ahead.
“Where is ‘there’ exactly?” Her question received no answer, and Akur, Akur was rigid where he reached back and pressed her into his spine, completely alert and ready. She still had the blaster in one hand. She was ready, too.
They walked for what felt like extended minutes; the tunnel growing progressively damper. Sometimes, she was sure her alien friend almost stumbled and not from almost falling over something.
“How badly are you hurt?” she whispered low. It felt like a stupid question. If he were human, she wouldn’t have asked. But he’d almost died several times now, and he was still standing straight. He was like some sort of Superman or something.
“Badly enough.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.” His pride was bleeding as much as his wounds. This thick-skulled mountain of an alien. But his hand briefl y tightened where he was reaching back to maintain her presence behind him.
She wanted to argue, but this wasn’t the place to discuss their weaknesses. Not with an unseen stranger—she’d decide later if they were friend or foe—leading them into the heart of the unknown.
When Akur paused, she did too, at his back. There was a sound of metal groaning, then a rush of stale air as something opened ahead of them. Despite every instinct screaming at her that this was a trap, she followed Akur’s lead as he moved forward, still keeping her tucked behind him.
The space they entered felt vast yet close, the air different from the damp tunnel—cleaner. Akur remained just over the threshold.
“You would think me a fool to enter this place with you,” he rumbled.
A strange sound filled the darkness—a pop, and then others, like bubbles popping in a witch’s brew. Laughter. A type of laughter she’d never heard before. “If you wish to return to the tunnels, you are welcome to try your luck with the guards.” Their guide’s voice held an edge of…what was that? Amusement? “But I think we both know why you followed me this far.”
Impossibly, Akur stiffened further. If he were a rod, he’d break with the tension. His grip on her tightened. “We are not your pawns.” His voice was so dangerously soft, the words seemed even more threatening. “Choose your next words carefully. They may be your last.”
There was the distinct sound of his blade flipping, so sharp it sounded like it cut the air.
Did the hidden figure gulp? It sounded like they did.
“Threaten me if you must,” the voice said. “I cannot say it is undeserved.” What now? Something shifted in the darkness. “Wait here. I will direct the guards away and return shortly.”
The air moved as Akur stepped across the threshold. For just a moment, Constance felt something cold brush against her arm. It was soft. So soft. Like silk. A sensation so at odds with whatever she was expect ing that she jumped. For a split second, she thought she saw a flash of white in the unending dark.
When the metal door slammed shut, she jumped again. Something knotted and clenched inside her stomach.
They were alone.