Shattered Soul (13 page)

Fredrico tensed when her gaze landed on him and he made to draw his own dagger out, only to have The Overlord lay his small, cold hand over his to stop him. Her gaze never wavered as she strode right up to Fredrico. Reaching out, she grabbed his shirt. Holding the dagger in one hand, his shirt in the other, she looked down at him.

He was tall, but the woman was half a head taller again. Having her gazing down at him should have made him even warier, but he just knew she wasn’t going to do anything stupid. He hoped. The Overlord seemed to think she was no threat, but hell, half the things he thought were no threat was enough to make Fredrico blanche. Or used to make him blanche. Not much did now.

It took him by surprise when she gave his shirt a sharp tug, pulling it free from his pants. Bringing up the dagger, she wiped the bloodied blade on the hem of his shirt. Not once did she speak, but her gaze remained locked on his. Letting his shirt go, she tucked the dagger into the back of her split skirt, securing it in the waistband.

Fredrico felt his lips twitch in amusement and admiration at her audacity.

Only then did she switch her gaze to Veknor and he looked back at her with his usual stoic expression.

Finally her gaze dropped to The Overlord where he sat on his throne between Fredrico and Veknor. Angling her head to the side a little, she studied him, and it was not friendly.

The pupils in his pink eyes elongated before dilating, and then he smiled. “Warrior.”

“My name,” she sas ee,” sid with deliberate punctuation, “is Rani.”

“Rani.” He smiled thinly. “Welcome back.”

She looked around the chamber slowly, at the shadows flittering in the corners, the barely visible horned beast that towered through the ceiling, Phemar still hunched over and then back to The Overlord.

“Home was never like this.” Irony rang in her husky tones.

“This chamber is only part of my home.” He gestured to Fredrico. “Show our guest to her chambers. Rani, you will have time to rest and clean up before we dine. No doubt you are hungry and wondering why you’re here.”

“I know I shouldn’t be here.”

“But you are.”

“Yes.” She said it slowly, using that deliberate way she had of drawing out the word. “I am.”

“I have a very good reason, but first you need to clean up. Fredrico.” The Overlord manoeuvred his throne towards the doorway. “Show Rani to her chambers.”

Veknor glanced at Fredrico as he followed The Overlord from the chamber. He quirked a brow and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. Fredrico gave a little shrug in return.

No doubt his friend would want all the details later of what transpired between him and the warrior.

Once The Overlord and Veknor were gone, Fredrico turned to Rani. “Shall we?”

He had to give it to her, the woman’s looks could speak volumes. She didn’t have to voice her thoughts, it was all there in her expression, and her expression left him in no doubt that she thought him lower than dirt.

Curious despite himself, Fredrico led her from the chamber. She fell into step beside him and he glanced sideways at her.

Gone were the shambling walk, the fighting, and the insanity. In its place strode a warrior confident of her every move.

A warrior dragged back from the brink of death, pulled back by demonic hands.

Dead warrior walking
.

No, she was very much a living, breathing warrior.

Fredrico guided her down the winding stone corridor and up the wide, deep stairs that led upwards from the dungeons. The higher they went, the more sounds they could hear.

Sighs, screams, the occasional sobs. Laughter. Hounds baying in the distance. The everyday sounds of The Overlord’s fortress in the Inner Sanctum. A place of horrors and dubious peace, where he ruled with a harsh hand and deep insight into the twisted minds of those who were forced to live in the Inner Sanctum.

They left the dark passages behind and entered the elegance of wide corridors, red velvet drapes and gold-gilded chairs. Heavy wooden doors appeared here and there in the walls, and behind some of them lived the occupants of the fortress.

Coming to a stop at one door, Fredrico opened it and walked inside. “This is your chamber from now on.” Turning, he looked at Rani as she entered behind him.

Her gaze swept the room, and he knew what she saw. Rich furnishings, heavy wooden furniture, deep cushions, and paintings on the walls. She crossed to the window and pushed the heavy blue velvet drapes aside. A cool breeze swept through the room and she breathed deeply. In the distance were grey mountains shrouded in clouds. Thunder boomed. A light patter of rain started and she leaned out to look down to the cforown to ourtyard below.

Standing back, Fredrico had a good view of her long legs, the play of feminine muscles as she braced her weight. Strong, lean, but with womanly curves, the Reeka sparked an interest in him that he hadn’t felt for quite a few years.

Folding his arms, his hand came into contact with partially dried blood and he grimaced. Looking down, he shifted his hand away from the blood on his shirt. Phemar’s blood was now turning a dull black. The faint smell of rot clung to him. He’d have to shower and change, but even then he’d imagine the smell on him for a while yet.

Rani stepped back and swung around on her heel.

“Your bathroom is through that door.” Fredrico gestured to the far door. “Walk in robe beside it. Everything you could wish for is here. What you don’t have, you only need to ask for.”

The light from the chandelier overhead caught her eyes and for a second Fredrico thought the brilliance shining in them was a tear, but her voice was steady when she replied, “You can’t give me what I want.”

“Oh?”

“Freedom.” Her lips twisted. “Freedom or death, that’s the Reeka war cry. But I didn’t get death and I don’t have my freedom.” Turning away, she stared back out the window. “Get out.”

Fredrico left without another word.

~ * ~

Bounty Hunters’ Ship

Ceri shook with the pain. Curled up in the corner, she leaned against the stocky body of the hunter as he cradled her in his arms. Not a gentle cradling, but supportive.

It felt as though every nerve ending shrieked in agony. Her hands shook so much she couldn’t hold the glass, and Abra steadied it as he lifted it to her lips and tipped the pain killer into her yet again.

She swallowed the bitter mixture but somehow she just knew it wasn’t going to help. 
Rani. Rani is out there somewhere, and she’s hurting.

The thought almost tore her apart. Was her sister hurting like she was? The pain, did they both suffer it? Did she have someone to help her?

“Breath deep,” Abra ordered. “Slow your breathing, Ceri. Slow it.”

She knew she should. She battled to obey but the agony threatened to tear her very breath from her body. The choppy, rasping sound of her breathing was harsh in the cabin.

A hand under her chin tipped her head back and she opened her eyes to find herself looking hazily up into Abra’s face.

His dark eyes glinted. “Look at me. Focus. Deep breaths, Ceri. Slow down. Slow down your breathing or you’ll really be in trouble. Focus.”

Focus, hell
. It was all she could do to even remember how to breathe. Pain tore through her, making her jerk in his arms, and he swore and braced her against him as she arched back.

The red haze overtook her and the voices in the background almost faded to nothing as blackness stole through the red. Oblivion, yes, she would welcome oblivion. Anything to escape the pain.

Her breathing started to slow, dragging through her, her heart beat growing steady.

Steadier.

Slower.

Beat... beat...nd t... be beat...

Skipped a beat. She could felt it skip a beat.

Slower... so slow...

“Ceri!” Someone was shaking her. “Goddamn it, Ceri! Don’t you stop!”

Oblivion beckoned, sweet nothingness, no pain, no -

A sharp jolt and she rocked.

“Ceri! Open your eyes! Open your bloody eyes and look at me!”

She didn’t want to.
The pain was going... going... Limp, so very limp. Floating away on sea of soothing nothingness...

Soft words filtered through the nothingness, and she almost didn’t hear them. “What?”

A sting. Her cheek hurt. Another sting, forcing her upwards out of the soothing sea. She became aware of the voices, the deep vibration against her ear, and pain came back in a wash. She opened her eyes on a gasp.

“Keep your eyes open.” Abra’s voice penetrated the darkness, bringing reality back in an unwelcome raking like nails on a board. “Look at me, Ceri. Look at me!”

The pain wasn’t as bad and she was no longer curled up against it. Instead, she was lying on the floor with her head pillowed on Abra’s thighs. Ricna was kneeling at her other side and withdrawing a needle from her arm. Vane was holding a vial and drawing up another syringe full of liquid.

“What...” She moistened her lips, tried to bring her thoughts into a resemblance of normalcy. “Abra...” Looking straight up, she saw that Abra’s face was upside down, and she blinked in confusion.

Ricna and Vane stopped and looked down at her.

“Ceri?” Abra queried.

“Yes?” The pain was fading and she winced as she tried to sit upright.

Abra didn’t bother with gentleness. Grabbing her under the arms, he hauled her into a sitting position but rested her against him so that her back was leaning on his chest, her head against his shoulder.

Reclining against him, she took a deep breath and raised a trembling hand to her cheek. “Why does my cheek hurt?”

Vane looked at Abra.

“You bastard,” she croaked. “You hit me?”

“Not me,” Vane denied quickly. “Abra.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at Abra.

His dark-eyed gaze raked across her face. “I was just trying to get you back.”

“Back?”

A muscle ticked in his square jaw. “You nearly died.”

Well, shit. That wasn’t good
. Ceri looked at Ricna, who held up the syringe and said, “Eastarl.”

“Eastarl?”

“It’s to quicken the heart if it gets too slow.”

“Slow?”

“You were down to ten beats a minute.” Ricna shrugged. “Respirations were five.”

“You were dying,” Vane added.

She could believe it. The pain had almost torn her apart. Sucking in a deep breath, Ceri became aware that Abra’s arm was across her stomach just beneath her breasts as he held her supported against him.

Laying her hand on his arm, she was side tracked by the trembled y the ting of her fingers.

“You were dying,” Abra caught her attention again. “But you shouldn’t have come back so perky.”

“Perky? You call this perky?” She held up her shaking hand.

“You’re awake and talking. The most we hoped for was stabilizing you, but you’re almost back to normal.” He shook his head, his braid slipping over his shoulder to tickle her cheek. “It’s not normal.”

“She’s a Reeka,” Vane muttered. “What else do you expect?”

Ignoring him, Abra studied Ceri as she looked up at him. “The pain?”

“Gone. Almost.” There was still a twinge here and there.

“We need to stop at the nearest planet and get you checked out.”

“I’m fine.” She struggled to sit up. “Look. Fine.”

“Right,” Abra said dryly.

He stood and she almost fell backwards, only to thump against his shins. Ricna and Vane grabbed her arms and Abra caught her around the waist. She felt his chest against her back, his breath on her cheek, and then with one word they dragged her upright.

She nearly fell forwards and only Abra bracing himself to take her weight stopped her toppling over. He pulled her back against him.

“Yeah,” Abra said. “You’re just fine.”

The cabin whirled in front of her eyes and she blinked, trying to bring it all into focus again. It took a full thirty seconds before everything finally stood still in her vision and she found herself looking down into Vane’s wary face. If she said ‘boo’ the young hunter would probably crap his pants or shoot her. Or both.

Ricna was eyeing her assessingly.

“Come on.” Abra looped her arm around his shoulders and led her towards the cabin doorway. “You need to rest.”

“No, I don’t.” She stopped.

He tugged and she nearly fell again. After one expressionless look at her, he started forward again.

Fine, she was a bit wobbly but she didn’t think sleep was going to make that any better.

As they left the cabin she heard Ricna and Vane start talking. Nat was watching with a raised brow from the dining cabin, a cup of hot una in his hand from which he sipped. He certainly didn’t look concerned about her welfare.

As they drew level, Ceri reached out, plucked the mug from his hand and tipped it to her lips. The warm liquid slid down her throat and helped steady her still quaking insides.

“You’re welcome,” Nat said sardonically as she handed it back to him.

“Don’t get pissy,” she returned. “I only took a few sips.”

Shaking his head, he looked at Abra. “Need a hand?”

Abra shook his head.

As they continued down the corridor, Ceri glanced down at him. The harsh etchings of his face had a couple of deep lines to testify to his hard life. He wasn’t handling her gently but was manoeuvring her with a decided firmness. It was oddly reassuring.

“This position is becoming quite the norm,” she finally said.

He grunted.

“You care so much,” she continued as they neared the cabin.Ain.

Why she felt the need to prod him was beyond her. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to dwell too much on what was troubling her right now. Or maybe it was because being helped by a bounty hunter was almost abhorrent to her nature.

Pardoned she might be but the outlaw was still in her.

And so was fear. Fear for Rani.

Abra swung into the cabin taking her with him but instead of dropping her onto the bunk he sat her down in the chair at the table and left the cabin with a terse “Stay put.”

Pressing her trembling palms flat on the table, Ceri tried to will them still. Thoughts crowded into her head but she didn’t want to sort through them until she was sure to be alone for a while. Her heart fastened at just the memory of the pain and the strong, intense feeling she had that Rani was out there somewhere.