Page 19 of Silent Lucidity

“Really, you need to hide. They’ll kill you if they find you in here.” She pointed behind him, toward the left door—her bedchamber. “Go in there. I’ll let you know once it’s clear.”

For a moment, she swore he’d advance on her again. Her body strained toward him, toward the memory of his touch, of his warmth. But he turned away and darted to her bedroom door instead, opening it and slipping through without making a sound.

She inhaled shakily and planted her feet firmly beneath her. This was the opportunity she’d sought for four years—and this time, it could work. This time, she stood a chance of reclaiming her freedom. She wouldn’t spoil that chance by succumbing to lust.

“Do you need to be reminded who is the employer and who is the employee?” Cullion said as he strode into her room with two of his bodyguards ahead of him and two more behind.

“No, sir,” replied the foremost guard, a large, tan-skinned borian, “but you pay us to keep you safe. That means we need to get you to the hovercar out front and off the premises until we’ve cleared the building.”

“I will not leave my most valuable pet behind while an intruder prowls my home.” Cullion turned his furious gaze to Abella as he approached her.

She bowed her head, averted her gaze, and clasped her hands in front of her midsection.

“Where is he?” Cullion demanded.

“Gone,” Abella said.

“You expect me to believe he justleft?” Cullion caught her cheeks between his long fingers, digging his fingertips into her flesh, and forced her face toward his. He glared down at her, his long neck bending forward slightly. “Do not mistake me for a fool, you ungrateful wretch. The servants said he came in here foryou.”

Abella squeezed her hands together as his fingernails bit into her cheeks. No matter her reply, Cullion wouldn’t believe her. “He didn’t say anything while he was here.”

It wasn’t a lie. The stranger had never said a word to her.

The fury in Cullion’s eyes intensified. He didn’t look away from her when he spoke to his guards. “Search these quarters.”

Cold dread filled Abella.

The borian guard cleared his throat. “Sir, we need to evacuate—”

Cullion turned toward the borian, silencing him with a glare. “I will not have street filth force me out of my own home! Find him and kill him, or you will have to explain to your superiors that you are personally responsible for the termination of my contract with Starforge.”

No. Please. Please don’t find him.

The words repeated over and over in her head. The stranger was her only hope, her only chance to be free, to leave this place—this planet—and get home.

But how could the stranger evade Cullion’s security? There was nowhere to hide, only one exit, and he was outnumbered five to one.

The other bodyguards—three vorgals—walked forward with their gunstocks against their shoulders, checking behind the couches, cushions, and gauzy, hanging cloths. The borian remained near Cullion, who forced Abella to her knees with a dismissive shove.

She pressed her lips together against the jolt in her legs and the twinge in her back.

Cullion slipped his fingers into her hair, seized a fistful of it, and pinned her head to his robed leg, allowing her neither to bend down into her normal submissive position nor straighten her back.

She watched the guards from the corners of her eyes with her heart thundering in her chest.

The vorgals stopped in front of the bathroom door. One of them kicked the door open with a crash, clearing the way for his companions to enter the room. The scene reminded her of the police movies she used to watch with her dad when she lived at home—his dental career hadn’t offered much excitement, so he seemed to have garnered vicarious thrills through such action movies.

The memory made her chest constrict. Her disappearance must’ve crushed him. Was he okay? Were her mother and brothers okay? Were they still looking for her, or had they given up and assumed her dead?

“Clear,” one of the guards called from within the bathroom. They reentered the main room, and all three relocated to the bedroom door.

Abella tensed. Her tongue felt like it was suddenly made of sandpaper, and her breaths were too shallow to provide adequate air to her lungs. Cullion’s grip on her hair tightened.

The bedroom door was opened a crack, but the room beyond was dark. The vorgals took their positions to either side of the doorway, and one reached forward, flattening his palm against the wood to push the door open. Soft light from the overhead holograms spilled into the room, creating a weak patch of illumination.

Abella’s breath caught in her throat when two of the vorgals entered the bedroom and checked both sides of the doorway. Her speeding heartbeat drowned out all other sounds.

With a choking grunt, one of the vorgals inside the room stumbled backward. Abella lost sight of the pair. The high, punchy sound of their guns firing punctuated their alarmed shouts, and the room lit up with the strobing glow cast by their shots. After only a few moments, the room went silent and dark.

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