29. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Angela could hear the beat of Zoric's heart in his chest, the rise and fall of each breath, and the weariness in Colonel Schuh's voice. The steady thrum beneath her ear grounded her, while the rough texture of Zoric's shirt against her cheek provided a sharp contrast to the smoothness of his scales where her fingers rested. His natural scent - something like sun-warmed stone and clean rain - wrapped around her, helping to block out the artificial smells of disinfectant and floor polish that permeated the facility.
"Zoric, you are not a prisoner here," the Colonel said, slow and calm. His words carried the weight of authority, but Angela could detect the undercurrent of uncertainty in his tone. The fluorescent lights cast deep shadows under his eyes, highlighting the strain of the situation on his face.
"Though I have concerns that your solution to Private McBride's condition was to Bond with her. Is that anything like what the Orvax do?" The question hung in the air like smoke, making Angela's throat tighten.
"It's not a solution to her condition," Ae-cha told him, her scales shifting in patterns that Angela was beginning to recognize as agitation. "But it may create a more stable environment for us to try and unravel what's been done." The lizardwoman's tail twitched against the floor, creating a soft whisper that seemed loud in the tension-filled room.
"Colonel Schuh, you can't just hand a human woman over to an alien!" Dr. Phillips protested. The sharp note of her perfume spiked with her outburst, making Angela's newly sensitive nose burn. The doctor's hands clenched on the table, her knuckles white with strain.
Angela lifted her head from Zoric's chest, though every cell in her body protested the loss of contact. "As you can see, Dr. Phillips, he's not handing me to anyone. If anything, Zoric has kidnapped me fair and square." She laughed, the sound surprisingly genuine even to her own ears, and cuddled closer to her lizardman. Her entire body felt effervescent, like she could float away with happiness if he didn't hold her tight. The Bond hummed between them, a tangible current of warmth and belonging that made the institutional chill of the room fade away.
She felt his response through their connection before his arms tightened around her, his scales softening where they pressed against her skin. The gesture was protective rather than possessive, and she could feel his willingness to let her go if she chose - which only made her want to stay more.
"Dr. Phillips, you may not realize it, but part of our treaty that allows me to be here explicitly states that I am not allowed to remove any human woman against her will," Zoric said, his voice rumbling through his chest where Angela pressed against him. "Now, if you'd like to attempt to tell Private McBride that she may not be with me, you're welcome to. But I do not hold out hope for your success."
The vibration of his voice against her cheek sent pleasant shivers down her spine, while his confidence in their connection wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Through their Bond, she could feel his genuine concern for her wellbeing mixed with a fierce protectiveness that made her feel safer than she had in years.
Angela didn't know why Dr. Phillips was angry. Something about her had rubbed the doctor wrong from the first day and she'd never been able to figure out why. Despite doing her best to be a model prisoner and answer every question put to her, she'd never seen anything from Dr. Phillips but clinical detachment and cold disdain. Even now, the doctor's body language was rigid with barely contained hostility - shoulders tight, jaw clenched, fingers drumming an agitated pattern on the conference table.
Even the anger she was showing now was new, and Angela didn't like it. The doctor's usual mint-and-lavender scent had taken on a sharp, acrid note that made Angela's nose twitch.
A change in behavior is a warning sign, the voice in the back of her head whispered. The doctor has become actively hostile, be prepared for violence.
Is this new behavior? Zoric asked, his voice like a caress across her mind, gentle but probing. It's consistent with what I've seen so far.
Angela flinched at Zoric's question. The running commentary from the voice in the back of her head shouldn't have been projecting at him. It was the part of her that she'd always hidden in the dark corners of her brain, ignoring its suggestions as often as possible. The voice that had kept her alive, but at what cost?
"I'm going to need a lot more information," Colonel Schuh said, interrupting her thoughts. "And I don't think I'm going to get it standing here. We'll adjourn for now and meet back in the conference room in an hour. Zoric, you and Private McBride will be escorted under guard to your rooms until I can find a better solution."
Zoric nodded and Angela could feel his arms tighten around her. Heat flooded through her and her heart raced with anticipation. The Bond between them hummed with shared awareness, making every point of contact between them feel electric. An hour wasn't much time, and she didn't know what they could actually do, but just being with him for that long was enough to make her pulse quicken.
"Dr. Torres, I want to see you in my office," the Colonel continued, his tone brooking no argument. "Now."
He turned and left, his footsteps echoing against the concrete floor. The others followed after him, their departures marked by the whisper of clothing and the subtle changes in the air currents. Through their Bond, Angela could feel Zoric calculating the positions of the guards waiting for them at the end of the cellblock, his tactical assessment automatic after years of training.
"It would be inappropriate to carry me to your room," Angela murmured, certain he could hear her. The warmth of his scales seemed to seep through her clothing wherever they touched, making it hard to think clearly.
"But it would be the most efficient way," he protested, and she could hear the amusement in his voice, feel it bubbling through their connection like champagne.
"Allow me some dignity," she countered. "At least in public. Can you really do that with your tail?"
Zoric laughed, the sound rich and warm, and loosened his hold on her. She stepped to the side and wrapped her hand around his, their fingers interlacing naturally. As good as his arms felt, and as giddy as their connection made her, it was easier to walk this way. At least, until he shared another explicit idea of just what else he could do with his tail.
I can do a lot of things with my tail, he said. His voice rolled seductively through her mind and sent a chill that had nothing to do with temperature down her spine. Images flickered through their Bond, too quick to fully grasp but enough to make her breath catch.
The guards assigned to follow them to Zoric's room looked uncomfortable, their discomfort evident in their rigid postures and carefully averted eyes. The facility was labyrinthine, and Angela found her focus divided between Zoric and the marks on the walls that would help her navigate. Old habits died hard, and the voice in her head wouldn't let her completely ignore potential escape routes, even if she had no intention of using them.
It felt completely natural to hold hands with the lizardman and bubbles of joy kept floating through her chest. Even the idea of being physically intimate with him seemed more of a logistics question than anything else. Her enhanced senses picked up minute details about him - the way his scales shifted with each movement, the subtle changes in his scent that matched his emotions, the warmth that radiated from him even through his clothing.
A glance at the expressions on the guards told her they had reservations. And maybe she should have them as well, but enjoying the Bond with Zoric was much easier and pleasant. Enough of her life had been unpleasant, especially recently, that she wasn't inclined to fight the feeling.
The guards are distracted by their judgement. They should be easy to distract and get past, the voice in her head, muffled and distant though it was, pointed out.
I don't need to escape, she argued with it. I'm not running.
It's always good to know what your options are, it countered.
The tactical assessment continued in the back of her mind, but the warmth of Zoric's hand in hers and the steady pulse of their Bond made it easier to ignore. For the first time in her life, she felt like she might have found somewhere she actually belonged.
They arrived at Zoric's room and Angela could smell the fresh paint.
Did they build a facility just for me? she wondered.
No, but I think they fixed it for you, Zoric answered.
"We'll be here to escort you to the meeting," the guard said. "You have about thirty minutes before we need to leave to get there."
They closed the door as they left and Angela could hear their steps echo in the hallway. She turned to inspect the room and realized it didn't feel much different than her cell. The bed was more comfortable, the bathroom through a separate door, but not much in the way of space for personal belongings.
"They didn't even give you a foot locker," Angela said. She turned to face Zoric and saw the concern in his expression. When she reached out with her thoughts to find out what the problem was, she realized she was blocked from everything but his presence.
"They did not," Zoric agreed with her. "Though I suspect they would if I asked for one. As it is, my luggage is sufficient. I do not anticipate being here long."
"Why don't you think you'll be here long?" she asked. Anxiety had started to build in her chest and she didn't want to think about what he might actually be anticipating.
"I should say, I did not anticipate being here long, and I do not think that has changed, though the scope of my involvement in the mission has changed," he explained. "But we need to discuss something before we return for the meeting."
"I don't really have any personal belongings here," Angela said. "So moving in with you shouldn't be that big of a problem, though the bed is a little small. Not sure there's anything to be done about that."
"Who else talks to you?" Zoric asked.
"Today, it was Dr. Torres, Dr. Phillips, the other lizardperson-"
"In your head," he said, cutting her off. "There is another voice that you respond to in your head and it does not sound like you. Who is it?"
Angela shrugged, her stomach roiled at the question. "Doesn't everybody have a voice of reason in the back of their mind?"
"Why are you afraid to talk about it?" Zoric said, and reached out to touch her.
She flinched. "I'm not afraid," she responded. "But why can you read me when I can't read you? Did you block me out or something?"
His grip on her arm was gentle but it made her tremble for reasons that had nothing to do with excitement or desire. When she refused to be pulled towards him, he simply held her. "Some people do have a voice of reason, as you call it, but they don't usually analyze the guards for escape. And most people don't argue with them."
"I hate when you do that," she said. "We've known each other for less than forty-eight hours and I already hate a conversational tic. This is not going to go well."
Zoric sighed and stepped in to her space. His grip on her arm was firm but he raised his other hand to her face and his voice was gentle. "I did not want to scare you with my thoughts, nor did I want to risk triggering your self-destruct, so I created a barrier. It's something I can teach you to do later, if you'd like. Even the happiest, most secure couples need privacy occasionally."
Angela sniffed and he wiped the tear away that she hadn't realized was falling. "I don't like feeling shut out."
A flood of concern rolled over her, along with affection, curiosity, and desire. There was no anger, no hint of dislike or hate.
Her shoulders relaxed and she let him pull her into his embrace. They didn't have long but she was going to take the comfort she could.
"I'm not usually a mess like this," she explained. "I don't know why I'm so emotional. Or why I feel like I need to defend myself."
His acceptance wrapped around her like a warm blanket and she relaxed into him.
"I believe you," he said. "I also know that you've gone through several shocks recently, and our Bond is another one. Having emotions isn't a sign of weakness and showing them to me is an indication that something in you knows that I am safe."
"Being detached helps me do my job," she protested. "I can't-"
"Right now, your job is to get better," he said. "And to allow us to help you any way we can."
Angela nodded and sniffed again. Her tears had stopped but her emotions still felt raw.
"Now, I need you to answer my question before we get back to the meeting. I don't want to ask this in front of the others but I need to know the answer and we don't have much time."
"Alright," she said. "I'll do my best."
"Who does your voice of reason sound like?"
"What do you mean?" Angela pulled back and looked up at his face.
"When I heard you arguing with the voice in your head, it didn't sound like your voice. If it is a manifestation of your internal thoughts, you've given it the voice of someone you trust to get you out of trouble. Who is it?"
She frowned at him, thinking hard about his question. It made sense, the logic behind it was sound, but she couldn't quite grasp the answer.
"I don't remember," she said. "I mean, I do, but I can't…I don't…I should know who he is."
"Is there anybody else in your life you were able to talk to the way you talk to me?" he asked. "Someone who showed a special interest in your life while you were growing up?"
Angela shook her head. "No, not really. It was just me and my mom, most of the time, but most of our neighbors were cousins to some degree or other. Everybody was in everybody's business, it seemed like, but nobody more than anybody else. Except-"
She shivered and each breath became a struggle to pull into her lungs. Panic overwhelmed her and she knew the suffocating would start soon.
Zoric's hand on the back of her neck combined with his mind sliding into hers stopped the panic and the difficulty breathing. A name slipped tantalizingly out of reach but she saw something.
Green eyes.
Ones she'd always looked into with a sense of trust, of home, of safety. They'd never hurt her. They were there to protect her.
Angela looked up to see Zoric's eyes and they felt similar, but not the same. Zoric would protect her but he wasn't safe. A thrill shot through her at that realization and she tried to put the words together to tell him.
A knock on the door made her heart jump into her throat. When the guard called, she realized their time was up, and her conversation with Zoric would have to wait.