Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NORA
Nora waited for Airik to return, her eyes fixed on where she’d thrown Joe’s necklace. Eventually, she rolled onto the floor, searching for it. She felt around on her hands and knees, swaying from side to side like a drunk baby giraffe.
Unable to find it and overcome by exhaustion, she collapsed onto her back in the middle of the room. If she hadn’t been dehydrated, she might’ve cried.
Airik returned with a bucket, a rag, and a sword strapped to his back. Without a word, he set a fresh cup of water beside her, hovered over her for a moment, then began cleaning up her mess on the floor.
Nora gulped, cautiously eying the blade.
It was beautiful—the way dangerous, deadly things in nature were.
Though its shape was like any pointed sword, the metal was black and shiny, like obsidian.
Down the center of the blade, from the hilt to its tip, dim blue script shifted with Airik’s movements, as if some programming within it responded to him.
Not a thing of nature at all, but a tool of the incredible and terrifying world she now found herself in.
It looked…special. And oddly, its sharp beauty and glowing text reminded her of the angel from her dreams. She wanted to ask him whether he planned to kill her with it. But he paid no mind, intent on cleaning the vomit.
“I can clean up the mess I made.” She let out a nervous laugh, then tried to get up. Her arm gave way under the pressure, and she fell back, knocking the cup of water onto its side.
The man stopped, turning to her. Now was as good a time as any to kill her.
“I-I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My uncle said the medicine was supposed to help, not fuck me up like this. If you just give me—”
“Stay,” he said, continuing to clean. “I fix.”
Once finished, he opened an accordion-style wall across from her, each metal slat clicking back, and disappeared on the other side. Nora heard the sound of running water. A washroom, she assumed.
Moments later, he emerged, to her disappointment still fully suited, the helmet firmly in place. He knelt beside her, lowering until their heads were level.
“Hi.” Her reflection smiled back at her, awkwardly.
He said nothing.
She sighed, sick of seeing herself in his visor. “Can you take off your helmet, please?”
Again, no response. But he did lean a fraction of an inch closer.
Thinking he might not know the word helmet, she reached to show him.
A mistake.
Airik caught her wrist with stunning speed. He held her firm with his gloved hand, long fingers wrapped around her with bruising force. One hard squeeze, and her wrist would shatter.
“It—it hurts,” she whispered.
He went still—not even the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. His hand twitched before roughly shoving her arm away, letting her go.
“No touching.” He turned away. “I do not want fast movement near my sight.”
“I-I’m sorry,” she said, pulse racing. “I thought that if it’s just us and we’re different species, maybe you won’t get sick, in case that’s what you’re worried about—”
“I don’t worry for that. I know your body is clean.”
She tensed, noticing for the first time that she was no longer wearing her outer suit. Her free arm flew to her chest, even though she was still wearing her turtleneck. “H-how do you know I’m…clean?”
His helmet tilted downward as he watched her make a feeble attempt to cover herself. “A machine read you. Told me your sickness is in…the heart.”
“Oh,” she said, letting out a shaky breath. She dropped her arm and smiled, hoping she hadn’t irreparably offended him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst. You saved my life. I only thought that if you took off the helmet—”
“No,” he said, getting up. “You are afraid. Better you don’t see me. Now it’s eating time. Get in my bed.”
Nora blinked at him. “I’m okay right here. I still don’t feel well, and I don’t want to throw up again—”
Moving with dizzying grace and speed, Airik scooped her off the floor.
His sturdy arms cradled her like a baby: one arm behind her knees, the other behind her back.
“I said once I want you in my bed.” He deposited her in the center of the cot, then thrust the meal pouch from earlier beside her.
“Sitting up. Good. Not on hard floor. Now I say: eat.”
She stared straight up at him. Maybe not murderous but still too rough. How had she ever thought this man was an angel?
He crossed his arms and bent low, forcing her to press against the wall. “Norashaw, you are mine. You are safe. In my bed, you will eat. Your heart is weak and hungry. Tell me what you need.” With each sentence, he had leaned closer, unclear if he knew what he was doing.
Feeling like this wasn’t quite real life and that maybe it would have been better if the medicine had killed her—there was still a chance, after all—Nora replied, “I…uh…I need water. That’s it.”
He fetched her two more bottles, for a total of three, lining them up on the bed. “Enough?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Then use it,” he instructed, setting down a cafeteria-style steel tray. When she didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed the tray, plopped it into her lap, then dropped the meal pouch on top of it, making her flinch.
“Wait—”
“Now. Eat.”
Her hands shaking, Nora struggled to tear open the pouch.
She quickly gave up and used her teeth. The components fell onto the tray.
Spotting the only redeemable portion—the apple-cinnamon nutrition bar—she tucked it between her thighs to warm.
It was a trick her father had shown her when they’d gone camping once, and it worked better than the heat packs.
Airik stood over her, tilting his head like a dog trying to make sense of an arcane human ritual. When it seemed he was satisfied she’d continue without further coercion, he turned and went to a small desk in the corner of the room.
He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them.
Good. He’s just as freaked out as I am.
His head turned just in time to see her spill water all over her front and his bed. He turned abruptly away, hands clenching and unclenching. Finally, he pulled a small book off the shelf and sat on the stool beside the desk.
He probably thought her a barbarian, pouring water all over his bed as she mixed the components of the meal ration—a horrible chicken soup she knew would have gooey noodles. She used her sleeve to sop up the water from his blanket, then sealed the pouch and set the heat pack over it to warm.
Her stomach growled as she waited. Airik flipped through the pages, using a finger to guide his reading. She was hypnotized, watching that long gray finger and black nail glide down the page as he read. The man from her dreams had had black fingernails.
“Are you the angel from before? You weren’t wearing a helmet when I first woke up.”
His finger paused mid-page. “No,” he said. “Don’t say. Bad word.”
She snorted. “It’s not a bad word—”
“Eat.”
Nora frowned. “Are you going to eat? These meal trays need to be warmed, or else they’re too gross—”
He slammed the book shut, then turned to her. “I said eat. Not talk.”
Annoyance rolled through her. He’d just told her she’d crash-landed on an alien planet, and neither of them knew how she’d gotten there. He wanted her to shut up and eat her meal like a good girl. Yes, she was starving, but that wasn’t the point.
“Am I not allowed to ask questions? I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but I’m a little fucking overwhelmed—”
“I don’t have the words…overwhelmed. And…fucking.”
“Oh…never mind.” She looked down, sure that even in the dark he’d see her blush.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, turning his head to the side as if trying to hear her better. His right index finger twitched, tapping without rhythm on the back of his gloved hand. “Your heart is still wrong,” he said.
“Oh…can you hear it? Are you tapping what you hear to show me?” Because if so, the end was closer than she’d thought.
His hand froze, then clenched into a fist. He sat back, tucking his hands under his armpits as he crossed his arms. “You want talk. I will give it to you. Where you go?” He pointed to the sky. “Before…crash.”
“Mars. The Valhalla Research Colony. Do you know it?”
He looked at her, unmoving
“I didn’t think so. And…my ship that crashed—it’s totally ruined?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see it?”
“No. Too close to water.”
Nora’s stomach clenched. “What water?”
“Big water…ocean.”
Her gaze darted to the door, as if the waves were already seeping in, just as they did in her nightmares. “It fell into an ocean? We’re near an ocean?”
Airik’s chair creaked as he leaned forward. “Close, but not so close. Your ship is still there, but I won’t let you go. Your things—I bring here.”
She breathed out, grateful for his strange, if slightly unnerving, words and for his having rematerialized the window, so there wasn’t even the risk of seeing a single wave.
The food was still lukewarm, and the nutrition bar hadn’t softened enough yet.
Nora shut her eyes, wondering whether her next question was even worth asking.
“What’s going to happen to me? I’m assuming you can’t send me back if you don’t even know where the fuck Mars is.
” She rubbed her aching neck, where Joe had injected her.
Did that sedative also make her stupidly compliant?
Airik tilted his head down, thinking. “You are mine now. Later, you will be taken—belong to the Veynari. They will watch you.”
She pressed a hand to her knee, which had started to bounce in impulse. “The Veynari? Is that your home planet?”
“No. Vorakon is a world. Belongs to Veynari. Like here. Like everything.”
“Do you belong to the Veynari?”
She heard a sharp exhale of breath, and he paused. “Yes,” he said, slowly. “I said everything.”
Her chest tightened, but she managed to keep her voice steady. At least the sedative kept panic attacks at bay. “So, they’re just going to, what, watch me? Keep me under observation?”
“Yes.” He paused. “I don’t know.” Then, more firmly, “Yes. Observe. Learn.”