No Light (9 page)

             
She glanced around the room to see worried faces, before she turned to look toward Farran. He watched her, an unreadable look on his face. She frowned, glancing at the other Dems. Anticipation filled the air. It made her shiver. Her back tense, she continued forward slowly. Then, the lights winked out.

             
She immediately froze. The pregnant pause fell away, as someone shouted. She felt her eyes strain to catch any shred of light. There was none. She stretched her arms out in front of her and took a step forward.

             
Immediately, she felt the press of a table edge against her thigh. The pressure irritated the fading bruise on her hip. She fought not to wince. Someone moved past her in the darkness, displacing the air.

             
Her breaths were loud in her ears. Even over the growing noise of panicked voices, she could hear her inhales becoming gasps. Every muscle tensed, as adrenaline poured into her system. Something brushed against her hair, just a light whisper of a touch. She arched away from it, clenching her jaw.

             
"Human," a voice hissed into her left ear.

             
Her head jerked, her body instinctively cringing away. She took a step to her right, scooting her foot along the stone to avoid tripping.

             
"Look how you shiver, human." The voice was distinctly different from the first. The consonants sharper, the vowels round.

             
Sarah struggled to place the voices. Another brush came, pressure between her shoulder blades. Her breath caught when the hand lingered.

             
"Nyctophobia. Fear of the dark."

             
Sarah froze, then jerked her head toward the familiar voice. "Farran?"

             
"Does the darkness frighten you, child?" His familiar rolling tone seemed to caress the side of her face.

             
She turned her face toward him. Her eyes closed at the feel of warm breath against her skin. "Farran."

             
"Sarah." The tone was deeper than she had ever heard it.

             
She blinked into the darkness. "What's happened?"

             
After a long pause, "It is complicated." There was a light rustle.

             
Sarah frowned, wondering at the tone. She squinted. "What are you doing?"

             
"Silence."

             
Sarah cringed at the sharpness, but clamped her mouth shut. She tipped her head down, where his voice seemed to originate. Slowly, she reached out.

             
"Stop."

             
There was something warm and silky under her fingertips. In fascination, she ignored his command and trailed her hand over it until she felt skin. Cool skin, then what was clearly a brow line.

             
"Cease."

             
She bit her lip, but did not drop her hand. A low growl made her pause. The body beneath her hand nearly vibrated with energy. She turned her palm toward a rough cheek.

             
"Sarah." His words seemed to be forced from between clenched teeth.

             
Sarah tipped her head to the side. She started to drop her hand. A larger, cooler one clamped around her wrist and she froze.

             
"Do not. Not ever." His hand released her.

             
Her eyes widened at the quiet words.

             
As fast as the darkness came, it fled. The overhead fluorescents blazed on, filling the room with light so bright it was blinding. Sarah shut her eyes, breathing slowly through her nose. She heard the other handlers yelling and moving around her. The grating sound of the chairs against the stone floor set her teeth on edge, but she forced her eyes open.

             
Still stinging, her eyes found Farran. He sat in a chair in front of her, head bowed in a gesture of submission. Her eyes widened. His head tipped back far enough for their eyes to meet, before he dropped his chin.

             
"Handler Mackenzie."

             
Sarah jerked her head to look at her supervisor, but Luke's gaze was on Farran. His eyes narrowed, then swung to her.

             
"Good work, Handler Mackenzie." He stared at her, as if there was more he intended to say. After a moment, he nodded and left.

             
Sarah sighed. She watched him until he spoke to one of her fellow handlers. Sure he was distracted, she looked at Farran, again.

             
"What was that?"

             
"I would like to return to my cell." His tone was quiet, as if he were asking rather than telling.

             
"Alright."

             
Sarah glanced around as Farran rose to his feet gracefully. Luke stood on the other side of the busy room, once again staring in her direction. She watched his eyes follow Farran, a strange look crossing his face. When his eyes met hers, the expression vanished. He gave her a small nod, and turned away. Sarah continued to watch him for a moment, before looking back at the Dem.

             
Farran's gaze moved from Luke to her and back. She saw his eyes darken a moment before he turned away. She thought she heard a quiet growl. He did not look around, immediately heading for the door to Corridor One. Sarah paused, watching his tense shoulders as he walked. A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself to follow him.

             
As soon as she opened the door, his long strides carried him down the hallway. He ignored her presence. He waited at the far end of the hallway and continued to stare at the door, as she approached. His lack of attention made her skin prickle. He did not so much as glance at her, as she pressed her palm to the scanner and the door slid open. She watched him silently walk through the doorway ahead of her.

             
For a moment, she paused, her feet refusing to let her step forward. A horrible clenching in her stomach made her swallow hard. She took a deep breath and moved closer. The silent closing of the door behind her made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

             
The second the door shut fully, the Dem turned to face her. Sarah took a step back from the cold blackness of his gaze.

             
"I-" Unsure how to finish the thought without making him angry, she fell silent.

             
He cocked his head to the side. The lack of emotion in his face made her lean away from him slightly. Her eyes dropped to look at his fisted hands. When she looked up, he seemed closer. She watched shadows move in the darkness of his eyes.

             
"I didn’t mean — I'm sorry," she whispered.

             
The reaction was instantaneous. He lunged for her, his hands clamping down on her arms. She cut off her sharp cry of pain, clenching her jaw as he slammed her against the wall. Her skull hit the stone with a subdued thud, as bright light erupted behind her eyes. She blinked hard.

             
His face was less than an inch from hers, low, angry words pouring from his mouth. She squinted at him, trying to make sense of the stream of sounds. His narrowed gaze was fastened on her face, fury sparking in his eyes like shots of electricity. Sarah tried to focus on his face, but darkness began to creep in on the edge of her vision.

             
He shook her hard, and her eyes snapped open. Her arms ached where he gripped her. The fingers on her right hand tingled, as if he had compressed a nerve. Her vision shifted, and she realized her head had lolled to the side. She opened her mouth, but only a quiet gasp escaped.

             
He suddenly froze. His eyes looked over her face, before boring into her eyes. He scowled. Sarah blinked at him slowly, vaguely aware that he was asking her something. She watched his lips move, trying to focus on his face past the fog that surrounded her. She blinked. When she opened her eyes again, she was laying on the bench in the center of the corridor.

             
"You are a stupid human," Farran's voice growled from nearby.

             
Sarah stared at the ceiling above her. She slowly turned her head to find Farran's eyes mere inches from hers. She blinked in confusion, taking in his annoyed expression and their proximity. She shifted and felt warmth instead of cold stone. Her eyes widened. Jerking herself into a sitting position, she ignored the spots that danced across her vision.

             
"What —" she started to ask, her gaze quickly moving over the Dem and her position in his lap. "Why —" her eyes widened further when she realized his arms around her waist. "What?" She thought she saw amusement shine through the irritation, for a moment.

             
"Your weak, pathetic, human body is easily broken."

             
At the Dem's words, Sarah looked down at herself. Everything appeared to be intact. She frowned in confusion.

             
"Your skull nearly fractured when it collided with the wall," he spat, with something that sounded like disgust.

             
Sarah's eyes widened. She slowly reached up to touch the back of her head. Flinching violently, she pulled her hand away quickly. Warm slickness covered her fingertips. She brought her hand back to her lap to stare down at the blood on her hands.

             
"You see?" the Dem snarled.

             
"You…" she trailed off, looking up at him. Horror flowed through her like ice water. She shoved at his chest, freeing herself easily in his surprise. She moved away from him quickly, her eyes dropping to look at the blood she had left on the front of his jumpsuit.

             
"You tried to kill me," she accused. She moved back again, as he stood from the bench. "You wanted to kill me?" She watched a strange emotion cross his face before it vanished.

             
"You think you are any different from the other humans?" he growled, prowling closer to her. "You are as loathsome as the rest of your disgusting species."

             
Sarah flinched back from the hateful words. Her eyes moved toward the door to his cell. "Please go your cell, Dem."

             
He did not move. His eyes narrowed, as he stood taller. "What can you do if I will not?"

             
Sarah heard the challenge, the pure aggression in his tone. She frowned. "I will make you go." Part of her shrank back at his expression, but something drove her forward.

             
She took several purposeful steps toward him, before her vision blurred. Head spinning, she stumbled, instinctively reaching out for something to break her fall. The room shifted around her, until large hands gripped her waist. Her legs collapsed under her and she blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of the fabric against her cheek.

             
"You will make me do nothing."

…

              Her body was so light it was like holding nothing at all. He frowned down into her eyes and again felt a twinge of remorse. He snarled at himself for the emotion. She was a human. Her very humanity made her disposable. What did it matter if he accidentally injured her? Even as he thought it, he looked down at her small hands against his chest.

             
It had to be the marks. He growled under his breath at his stupidity in marking her. Without the marks, he would feel no remorse at harming her. Instead, her pain made him nearly sick. He cursed himself for what seemed like the hundredth time. His eyes scanned the room, landing on his cell.

             
Lifting her until her cheek lay against his shoulder, he adjusted his grip and carried her into his cell. She let out a soft moan of pain in her sleep, shifting against him. The remorse washed over him again. He viciously shoved it down, walking toward his cot. As he sat with her in his lap, he bit out a curse in his native tongue.

             
His eyes could not help but see the blue ator that swirled under her skin, proving her marks had taken full effect. He could almost see the damage reversing itself. Her bruises would be gone in a matter of minutes, her concussion soon after. Even with the marks separating her from the rest of humanity, he could not help but be annoyed at her fragility.

             
He looked away from his cell door, to frown at her. He snarled at the way his arms had chosen to cradle her without his permission. He tried to shove her away, but his body refused to obey him. If anything, his movement brought her closer. Grinding his teeth, he jerked his gaze away from her peaceful face. The same sick feeling returned to his stomach, as his mind replayed the events leading up to her injury.