Page 20 of Silent Lucidity

Cullion growled and thrust Abella aside. She caught herself on her hands and pushed back to her knees to stare at the open doorway.

The borian had positioned himself in front of Cullion and stood with his rifle aimed toward the bedroom.

“Gorok? Vrek?” called the vorgal who hadn’t entered the bedroom; his back was pressed against the wall beside the bedroom entrance.

The only answer he received came in the form of three blaster shots. Abella jumped as plasma bolts burst through the wall behind the vorgal, all fired low; two caught him in the legs, and he fell toward the opening with a pained snarl.

The stranger was suddenly in the doorway. He caught the falling vorgal from behind, looping an arm around his neck, and hefted him up, using the bulkier being as a shield. He peered over the vorgal’s shoulder with one black eye—not at his foes, but atAbella. Her breath quickened, and, shamefully, a rush of heat spread low in her belly. His stare was so bestial, so possessive, that she was more a slave to the stranger in that moment than she’d ever been to Cullion.

“Shoot him,” Cullion shouted.

“I’m not going to shoot my own man,” the borian replied.

“I pay you. Your lives belong to me!” When the borian continued to hesitate, Cullion barked, “Shoot himnow!”

Releasing a frustrated shout, the borian fired his weapon. The bolts hit the wide-eyed vorgal in the chest; he was dead before he had the chance to make a sound.

Despite the horrific scene unfolding before her, it was the stranger who held Abella’s attention. Moving faster than she thought possible for anyone—whether human or alien—he leapt aside a nanosecond before the gunfire struck the vorgal. A metallic flicker was the only indication of his wrist moving.

An instant later, the borian hissed in pain and dropped his rifle. The grip of a knife protruded from his forearm.

The stranger charged forward in another blaze of speed, leaping over a couch to slam his knee into the borian’s chest with all his weight behind the strike. Abella saw the stranger land atop the borian and press the barrel of his gun to the underside of the guard’s chin just before a wiry arm wrapped around her throat and tugged her up and backward. She bumped into Cullion’s chest, and he tightened his hold on her. She struggled against his grasp, fighting through the pain of another spasm in her lower back, but Cullion held her firmly against him.

A single blaster shot went off. The stranger rose and turned his head toward Abella, but now he was looking past her, at Cullion, with his impossibly black eyes.

“Stay back,” Cullion spat, body trembling. “Money, power, influence; whatever you want, I can give it to you. Just back away!”

The stranger paused and dropped his blaster into its holster. His fingers curled, and his claws lengthened.

Cullion tensed. “You. From the Twisted Nethers. You are the one who murdered Drok. The one who dared to touch my pet.” His voice lowered, turning into something closer to a growl. “All this for ananimal? For this wretched, disobedient creature? If she is truly what you are after, Iwillkill her. It is my right as her owner.”

The stranger took a step closer. Cullion staggered backward, dragging Abella with him and strengthening his grasp. She grunted and clenched her jaw, nostrils flaring as her airflow was cut off.

Hell no, she thought.Not now, not like this. Not when freedom is so close.

A fire flared in her chest. She would not be brought low. She would not die at the hands of this foul being who’d used and abused her for the last four years. She would not die here, and she refused to spend another second as hispet. She’d not let all her suffering be for nothing.

Fury like Abella had never felt swept through her. She bared her teeth and raised her hands, bent her fingers like talons, and raked them across his face. He started with a gasp, his hold on her loosening enough for her to turn and press her attack. She screamed, releasing all her pain, anger, and grief as she scratched at his flesh.

He extended his arms to shield his face from her strikes, but Abella as faster. She thrust her hands past his defenses and gripped the sides of his head, jamming her thumbs into his cruel, beady eyes. He yelled and swatted her arms away, but not before one of her nails punctured his eye.

Cullion shrieked. One of his flailing arms struck Abella’s head; it was a glancing blow, but it gave him an opportunity to grab a fistful of her hair. He raised his other hand to join the first, and, using his greater weight, swung her around and forced her backward.

Her head struck the wall before her body did. Her vision blurred, and the room spun around her.

Still shrieking, Cullion tugged her away from the wall and slammed her against it again. Abella’s vision went black for an instant. Her knees buckled, but he held her up by her hair, adding a fresh sting to her mounting pain. Blue blood oozed from Cullion’s eye, trickling over his pronounced cheek bone to stain his bared teeth. She grasped his forearms, desperate to break his hold, but she couldn’t find the strength.

Darkness flowed in at the edges of her vision.

No. Not here. Not now. Not him.

The stranger appeared behind Cullion; her blurred vision granted him an ethereal visage, blending light and shadow to make him a deathly, avenging specter. He reached over Cullion’s shoulders, clamped his hands on the ertraxxan’s head, and wrenched it to the side.

The skin of Cullion’s neck tore, spilling more blood, as the stranger twisted the ertraxxan’s head around until it faced backward. The series of wet, jarring cracks that accompanied the motion were some of the most horrifying—yet satisfying—sounds Abella had ever heard.

Cullion’s hands, suddenly limp, fell away from her hair. The alien who’d owned Abella for four years, who’d kept her as his performing monkey, collapsed.

Finally free.

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