Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Anna opened her eyes and sniffed cautiously.
She could smell javron —the Mitan equivalent of coffee—and something burning, which made her gut tighten.
She slid her hand under the covers and placed it over her stomach, which was now free of drains, stitches, and belly ring.
In fact, all the piercings had been removed, along with most of the new scars.
The room was dark, but she was already certain she wasn’t in the hospital.
The sounds were muffled and the light outside her door wasn’t bright and pitiless.
Perhaps she’d been moved into the I’ve been with crazy aliens home . . .
She pulled the covers down and swung her legs over the side of the bed. No alarms went off, and no one appeared in the doorway to either calm her down or force her back to bed. She wore some kind of soft T-shirt and shorts, and her hair was in two braids as if she were seven again.
God, she wished she were seven again . . .
She gulped in some more air, appreciating the oxygen, and made herself move to the door.
It wasn’t locked, so she opened it and stared out into the hallway, which was short, with only four doors.
To her left the hall took a sharp turn, leading toward more lights.
There was also the sound of someone talking.
Gathering her meager resources of courage, she went that way and came into an open-plan living room and kitchen.
There were large windows that faced out over a city, and the telescreen was on but the sound was muted.
In the galley kitchen, a man dressed in black stood with his back to her, talking to someone on his com device.
As if suddenly aware that he wasn’t alone, he turned to look at her.
“I’ll speak to you later, Kai.”
Anna stared into the metal-gray eyes of Rehz Akran.
“You’re awake.” He nodded at her. “Good. Do you want something to eat? I was just about to get something.”
Wrapping her arms around herself, she took three unwilling steps toward him and stopped again.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not hungry? I would’ve thought that after all that hospital food, you would be gasping for a proper meal.”
A whisper of memory—of a tentacle shoved down her throat—made her swallow and bring her hand to her mouth.
His gaze narrowed. “It’s okay. If you’re not ready, you can continue with the nutrition shakes. There are plenty in the refrigerator.” He pointed at the silver box in the corner of the kitchen. “Help yourself.”
She turned away from him and stumbled toward the sanctuary of her bedroom. Maybe if she went to sleep again, she’d wake up in another version of reality. She didn’t like this one at all.
“Anna,” he called after her. “Lee.”
She stopped walking, her breathing ragged, but she couldn’t turn around.
“I’ll be here when you want to talk, okay?”
Shaking her head, she retreated. The bedroom door had a lock on it, so she used it and fell into bed, pulling the covers over her head. It took her about an hour to stop shaking, as her unwilling brain tried to make sense of things she didn’t want to remember or deal with right now.
Which was pretty much everything . . .
Rehz kept a wary eye on Anna Lee as she moved carefully around the apartment.
Another week had gone by and she still hadn’t said a word to him.
He got the impression that her short-term memory had finally recovered, though she only ventured out at night to grab a nutrition shake and disappear back into her room.
According to the hospital and the psychiatrists, she hadn’t spoken to anyone since she’d come out of Ungrich space.
He had no intention of pursuing her into her room.
She had to have a bolt-hole. Hell, they all did.
He gave her another covert glance. There was still some livid scarring around her neck and shoulders, but that would fade.
She sidled up to the kitchen, and for the first time he didn’t move completely out of her way. If she wanted to get to the fridge, she’d have to walk right by him. He carried on putting away his plates and mugs and then set about making a sandwich.
“How long are you going to keep this up, Lee?” he asked. “The not-talking thing. I know you can speak. There’s nothing physically wrong with your vocal cords.”
He hadn’t been able to speak when they’d brought him out either, his voice dried up from screaming so hard and so long . . . but she should’ve gotten over that now. He couldn’t allow her to lapse into the silence of madness.
“I’m sure there are plenty of things you’d like to say to me.”
She darted past him, her back straight, and went to the refrigerator.
“Or maybe you’d rather just grab one of these kitchen knives and stab me through the heart.”
The fridge door slammed as she stared at him, the nutrition box clutched to her chest. He only just managed to duck when she threw it at him and then started in on his crockery, screaming and crying as she smashed everything he had out on the countertop.
By the time she’d finished, he had two cuts on his face from flying shards of china, and was surrounded by a sea of broken glass.
“I hate you,” she whispered. “I bloody hate you.”
He smiled into her eyes. “Good. Now you’re talking. Tell me more.”
She shoved past him and hopped over the countertop to avoid the debris.
After watching her for another few seconds to see if she’d start flinging anything else, Rehz reached under the sink for the trash can and a dustpan and brush and started cleaning up.
He’d have to get new stuff, but by his reckoning this one was on the government.
At least he’d gotten a reaction out of her and survived.
She stayed by the window, her arms wrapped around herself, her shoulders hunched.
Rehz shoveled all the debris into the trash and surveyed what was left.
Pulling his two remaining mugs down off the shelf, he started a fresh pot of javron .
After it brewed, he took both cups over to the window and put one down on the low table beside her.
“Why am I here?”
With a strange sense of relief, he sank into one of the chairs and sipped his drink. Her voice was tiny, but at least she was using it.
“With me?”
She nodded, her back still turned to him.
“Standard procedure. When a trainee is physically cleared by the hospital, he or she becomes the responsibility of his or her trainer until ready to face civilian life again.”
“I . . . want to leave.”
He sighed. “I can’t let you do that, Anna Lee. You aren’t ready.”
“So I’m a prisoner.”
“You’re no longer under sentence of death, and you can’t be incarcerated again for the offense for which you’ve been pardoned.”
She turned toward him and sat in the other chair as if her legs had just folded under her. She reached for her mug of javron . His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to hand it to her himself. After a few sips and a shudder, she got up, nodded at him, and walked out again.
Rehz let out his breath and stared up at the ceiling.
Okay, it wasn’t much, but at least she’d recognized his presence and asked a few questions.
It was a start. The scientists and the military interrogators could go fuck themselves until she was ready to talk to them.
He wasn’t going to push her any further or any faster than she wanted to go.
Anna jerked awake, her heart thudding, as she heard voices in the apartment.
She’d stopped taking most of the pills they’d given her at the hospital because they made her feel too detached.
She was afraid of the nightmares that lurked in her mind, but more afraid of becoming some kind of passive doll that Rehz Akran could maneuver to do what he wanted.
Although he hadn’t done anything except look after her basic needs and leave her alone.
She wasn’t stupid. He’d want more. She just had to figure out what it was, but she was so damn tired. Hot tears dripped down her cheeks and she brushed them away with her hand. She hated this; she hated feeling so vulnerable and female and emotional.
After blowing her nose, she pushed the covers back and made for the door. If someone else was there in the apartment, maybe she could plead with them to let her leave so that she never had to face Akran again.
She paused at the corner of the living quarters, her water glass clutched in her hand. Akran was pacing back and forth on the rug, talking on his com. His expression was hard.
“Negative. She is not ready.” He paced some more. “Negative. I don’t care who the greez is waiting for what. I’ll say when she is ready. Over and out.”
He slammed his com shut and turned abruptly around, stopping when he saw her instant flinch away from him.
“Didn’t know you were up. Sorry for the shouting, but high command are fucking idiots sometimes.”
“What do they want from me?”
He ran a hand through his short black hair. “To debrief you about your experience with the Ungrich .”
She started to tremble, and a fist lodged somewhere in her throat, expanding with every painful breath she tried to take.
“Hey.” He held up both hands, palms out. “I told them you weren’t ready.” His expression changed. “Lee? It’s okay.”
She shook her head and took a step backward, colliding with one of the low tables and dropping her glass.
It smashed into a million pieces, and she jerked her head away as pinpricks of pain splattered her cheek.
The smell of blood swirled around her nostrils, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming and ran to the nearest bathroom.
He found her a minute later, bent over the toilet, retching. When she stopped, he picked her up and sat her on the bathroom chair.
“Stay there.”
With deft, gentle touches, he wiped away all her blood and tended to her cuts, spraying them with something that closed them up immediately.