Page 3 of Empress of Savages

“What are you putting in there?”

“A two-twenty six.” The heavy thunk in the wooden drawer and the sliding swish as the drawer closes makes me feel relaxed and content. “Ready to rock.”

My favorite gun. The Sig Sauer 226. I hope that it’s actually my gun.

Wait — I have a favoritegun? That seems to open up a whole hallway of doors I would rather have kept shut.

CHAPTER TWO

“Come back to us.”

This is the voice of the man I call the Emperor. It’s an order. An instruction. Judging from his voice, and the touch of his hand, he is a ruthless man of power.

His strong hand dwarfs mine, holding me, squeezing. Then he strokes my forehead. And he runs his fingers in my hair. Gentle. Caring. Then twisting.

The Emperor’s voice stirs deeper parts of me. Parts that are far, far back there, through the thick, heavy black curtains. Parts that reach all the way down to when I was a child. A little girl, trying to please her daddy. That feels old.

Inside I’m buzzing. Is it just adrenaline? Am I in a natural state, or is this something that’s medically induced? I know there’s at least one tube in my hand, and there are little buzzes around me. Beeps and chirrups from machines that sound clinical. I don’t hear the sounds of a hospital, though.

No bells or alarms or even voices echo down hallways. No trolleys or gurneys roll or rattle outside, none that I’ve heard.

Here, I feel new. Bright and clean, waiting in the shadows. The me that’s suspended in the darkness here, now; I’m resting.Restoring myself. Getting ready to be unveiled. To wake up and make an entrance.

But I don’t want to come out yet. I’m not ready to rise up, blinking into the light. Now I want to stay here, in the comfortable darkness.

The Emperor wants me to rise up out of this dream or whatever it is. I know.

And I need to do that. Soon.

When the Emperor speaks, I feel warm and safe. He’s here for me. He is not going to let anything bad happen to me. He will protect me. Defend me. Fight to keep me in his possession.

It would be nicer if he slipped in here with me. We wouldn’t ever need to go anywhere or do anything but be close and be together.

Nicer still if it was the Warrior who came. My warrior.

I slip back and drift, softly down. No stress, no worries, no conflict.

“Right now, we can’t have her like this.” The Emperor’s powerful masculine voice issues commands. “We need her up and functioning. There’s got to be something you can do.”

Lying still, in total darkness, I cant’t move or even open my eyes.

Did I slip away and doze again? I don’t remember.

I’m not in pain, but from the top of my head, through my whole body and all the way down to my ankles, distant echoes of pain drift through me. Aches throb like auras over my arm and my side.

A harder, sharper jab in my wrist and what feels like a gash in the side of my leg has the flesh memory of a fading burn.

I feel like I’ve been chained up and dragged behind the hurtling cars of a roller coaster ride, bumped through the twist and turns, dragged up the slopes, and then plunged, bouncing wild down the scream-wrenchingly, eye-stretchingly steep slopes.

A second man speaks. He sounds assured, educated and confident like he expects to be in control. Like people usually do what he says without him having to explain himself. I’m guessing he’s a doctor.

Over the top of me, he says, “Her physical injuries are minor.” Who are they talking about? “With the possible exception of concussion.”

My savage Warrior’s voice rises, next to the Emperor.

“How does that look?”

Something so strong stirs through me, like my body could lift and rise, like I’ll drift toward him, even though I’m completely unable to move. A rush of excitement blows through me. As quickly as it came, it’s gone again. I feel lost and empty without the wind of energy.

---