Page 31 of Silent Lucidity

Each of his words was a little raspier than the last, each sounded a little more pained.

She yanked against his iron grip on her hand. “Then release me and go!”

Faster than her eyes could perceive, he caught the barrel of the blaster in his fist and wrenched it aside. She gasped as the weapon—her one bit of leverage—twisted out of her hold. He slipped his other arm around her, pressed a hand to the small of her back, and forced her body against his.

“I did all this foryou,” he said, eyes instantly black, fangs bared. “Tracked Cullion to getyou. Killed them all to haveyou.” He lowered his face closer to hers, drawing her even tighter against him so her body was flush with his. “I willnotlet you go.”

Abella stared up at him with rounded eyes and parted lips. The logical voice in her mind told her this wasnotokay—his motivations only made this whole episode more disturbing, and she was right to be afraid of him. Yet, another part of her was turned on by his vehemence, by the way his eyes and arms locked her in place. As much as she wanted to pull away, she couldn’t deny feeling an urge to press closer and absorb more of his heat.

Just as she was forming a response, Tenthil wrapped an arm beneath her ass and lifted her onto his shoulder.

Anger swept through her, and she punched his back, succeeding only in making her hand ache. “Damnit, Tenthil!”

She was getting tired of being hauled around, her wishes ignored. She’d had her fill of such treatment over the last four years, and Tenthil’s continuation of it was infuriating.

But again, what choice do I have?Wander an alien city, lost and alone, until whoever is chasing us murders me, or stick with the devil I know?

At least Tenthil wasn’t trying to kill her.

His words echoed in her mind—I did all this foryou.

Why would he risk his life to obtain her? What was so special about her?

And what did he intend to do now that he had her?

* * *

Tenthil limitedhimself to a brisk walk as he led Abella across the enclosed catwalk bridging two abandoned factories together. Whether motivated by anger, fear, exhaustion, or some combination of the three, she hadn’t spoken a word since shortly after he’d removed his tracker. Her silence was unsettling to him, but he admired her perseverance all the same—they’d abandoned their stolen hovercar in a maintenance tunnel almost two kilometers away and had traveled here on foot.

He glanced out one of the catwalk’s long, narrow windows to the sector outside. Most of the surrounding factories and warehouses were dark, abandoned husks, forgotten by the city above and left to slowly rot. Detritus littered the area—metal scraps, broken chunks of concrete, wires, and pipes, along with countless, less identifiable objects. Everything here in the Bowels had a worn look, the result of decades—if not centuries—of neglect.

Surveillance was limited in places like this, making them favorable to those who had nowhere to stay—they were sanctuaries to the homeless and fugitives, people desperate for refuge.

Tenthil supposed he and Abella were both homeless and on the run; where better for them to hide until they determined their way forward?

He held his blaster at the ready as they entered the next building. In the Bowels,abandonedhad taken on a new meaning, and was no longer synonymous withuninhabited. Tenthil slowed his pace, and Abella kept close to him, her footfalls quiet despite her apparent weariness. Few of the interior lights were functional, but Tenthil’s eyes adapted to the gloom.

The inside of the building was as messy as the outside, but there were signs of habitation—beyond the tiny tracks and droppings in the dust that marked the presence of unseen vermin. The old food wrappers, musty blankets, and broken-down heating coils scattered about were clear indicators of people having sheltered here at some point after its abandonment.

But Tenthil didn’t plan to hunker in a dark corner with a filthy blanket over his shoulders; he had a specific destination in mind. He’d chased a mark into this building years ago—an ilthurii gang boss who’d run afoul of some powerful individuals—and had found his target hiding in a secured room nestled deep within these silent halls.

Without access to the Order’s resources, his list of potential places to stay had become alarmingly short.

“Is this place…safe?” Abella asked.

Her voice jarred him from his thoughts. She’d been quiet for so long that he’d thrown all his focus into keeping alert for danger and visualizing the route of that long-ago chase. He glanced at her over his shoulder.

Abella’s features were drawn with worry, dark circles hugged the undersides of her eyes, and her already light skin looked even paler than normal. Tenthil frowned; he was uncertain of the limitations of her species, and she was likely being pushed too hard.

“Safe enough,” he replied.

Her deepening frown suggested his answer hadn’t been reassuring.

She is not trained for this life, he reminded himself. He’d spent so long in the Order that he often forgot his experiences were not typical.

After fifteen minutes of searching—just as his frustration had built enough for him to consider turning around and leaving—he discovered the door for which he’d been searching. The dirt on the floor in front of it was undisturbed; it hadn’t been opened for some time. He stopped at the door and released Abella’s hand to draw his masterkey from a belt pouch; it was a small, egg-shaped device with an old-fashioned touch screen on its face.

He raised the masterkey to the door’s wall-mounted control panel and activated it. A tiny wire extended from the tool’s narrower end and latched onto the panel. The key began its program. Fortunately, he’d used the same masterkey to open this door the first time he’d come, meaning it still had the decrypted access codes stored in its database.

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