AMNESIA

by Canada Jackson

  “Maybe, but knowing this will upset you is enough.”

  “Don’t,” he roared angrily and slammed his hands against the wall. Amber flinched with a measure of fear. She saw a glance of regret and watched as he took a calming breath and caught her face gently between his palms.

  “Don’t,” he said softly. “I will never tolerate another man’s hands on you.”

  His eyes flashed with possession, his breath still ragged. Amber recognized the tortured honesty in his gaze but still wrenched her head to the side. He wasn’t deterred and closed the gap between them, pressing her gently against the wall. He sighed with pleasure when he felt her against him. She could feel his warm breath on her neck and shivered when he traced his lips across her beating pulse, stirring her body to respond.

  She felt him harden against her; his moan against her throat made her head fall back and she unclenched her fists and clasped the sides of his jacket as her head spun.

  She felt his tongue run along her collarbone and gasped at the sudden intimate contact as her body tightened in response.

  “Stop,” she demanded when his mouth reached her ear. Her breath was coming out in short pants. “Please stop.”

  One more flick of his tongue along her flesh and she would drop to the floor and allow him to have his way.

  He lifted his head and stared at her in longing. “Why do you persist in fighting me, Amber, when we both know this is not what you really want? Stop rejecting me and I can show you a life that will make your head spin and your heart pound with excitement every day.”

  She squirmed and tried to pull away, but he kept her locked in place between the wall and his hard body, which was making her quiver. “When I touch you, you can’t even remember his name; I can make you forget him in other ways too.”

  “Probably.” She pressed against his chest. “But I will never forgive you for the start of all this.

  No matter how many times you try to control and force this into being, it doesn’t change the fact that you will never really have me. You will always be my captor. You will never have what belonged to Travis and you cannot control what I may feel for another. You can keep me from Staede but it won't change that I like being with him more than you!”

  Her admission that she could respond to his brother’s advances made his face twist demonically, and the snarl he emitted was inhuman. Still, Amber did not lower her gaze or shy from him. He struggled for control, the angled lines of his face contorting in ways that would terrify the best of his men, but Amber was unafraid. Wrexel, despite his insanity and desire for her, had never caused her physical pain.

  He seemed to win the battle after a few moments and his face slowly relaxed, although his eyes remained dark. “Stay away from Staede,” he whispered raggedly. “Don’t make me do something I will regret.”

  “There is nothing left you can do to me.” She walked off haughtily.

  “I’m not talking about you,” he warned as she left the room.

  25

  Reckless Adventures

  Amber had to stifle her disappointment when Staede did not appear the next day. Leyahanna casually mentioned that both he and Whyle were standing in protection of Whyle’s Comms Tower due to an attempt by the Monarch to gain entry the night before.

  Truth be told, Wrexel’s response had her a little worried and she wrestled with her desire for rebellion versus his retaliation.

  She didn’t want to see how cruel Wrexel could become and yet she desperately needed to have some control over him. Staede provided this.

  On the second day, she admitted to herself that she missed him, not only because she wanted to annoy Wrexel, but because he exhilarated her. She had never been in the company of a male who made her laugh like he did. Everything with Travis had been serious, everything about Wrexel was intense. Staede was a welcome relief. He gave her an opportunity to feel reckless and daring.

  On the third morning, she worried that Staede had given up, that he would not be around to fill her time with laughter and teasing. It didn’t help that the visions of her mother seemed to intensify. After days of being free of her senseless words and promises, Lilith began to plague Amber once again.

  “Embrace your coming task; expend your energy on finding what they need. He waits for you to awaken. He needs it to be returned. Search, my daughter, search.”

  Search for what? She had half a mind to ask, but if she spoke to Lilith, she would have to admit she was real and Amber preferred to recite that she was not. It usually seemed to work after the fifth or sixth time, especially if she shouted it aloud. Her mother would look at her sadly and fade away. Of late, though, she was persistent, so Amber resorted to endless jogging and very loud music to dispel the visions. She threw herself into every activity she could find not to return to the insecurity of her youth. She remained desperate to be free of the feelings of anxiety and self-doubt that were a shamed part of her character.

  With the new words sprouting from her mother’s glowing green form, she began to think she was losing her mind in new ways and wished that Staede would distract her from the insanity.

  * * *

  On the afternoon of the third day, when Wrexel was due to return, Amber turned a corner and found Staede waiting. She could not deny the burst of joy she experienced when he clasped her hand and said, “Run.”

  Finally he was there to offer her respite from the madness that her mind spiraled into.

  Despite Leyahanna’s cry of dismay and the lurch of a looming guard, Amber tossed her concerns aside and ran with him. Climbing through another hole in the wall, she watched it slam shut in the guard’s face and heard herself giggle with excitement.

  Amber waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness but Staede held up a small torch and his handsome facade came into full view.

  “Come, my beauty. There is much you need to see today, things that will spin your world.”

  She followed him eagerly into the depths of the musty catacombs.

  He was particularly lecherous that day. His hand lingered on her back when it wasn’t necessary, trailing lower and leaving a whisper of a touch on her behind. When he helped her over a fallen statue, he purposefully pulled her into his arms, pretending to be unstable. Once again, he held her far too long. But he didn’t exactly cross any line. Staede was artfully devious.

  His lewd behavior and words made her gasp and blush. And yet… she loved his company.

  They walked a fair distance in the catacombs that morning until he claimed they were directly beneath the Monarch’s residence. Amber looked up warily, but he allayed her fears.

  “He will never come down here.” He led her forward. “There is nothing left of interest here, besides reminders of his treachery.”

  They entered a great hall that had several old wood tables standing side by side in rows. Dust and blankets of cobwebs covered the items. As Staede brushed them aside, she saw they were laden with strange things.

  Amber lifted them all one by one; some were ancient and beautifully made goblets, dishes, and other items she did not recognize.

  She held up an oblong instrument and Staede took it from her outstretched hand.

  “What is that?”

  He flicked his wrist, and a laser flickered from its base.

  “Is it a whip?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Yes, a crude laser whip. It’s about a century old but was taken out to be used again just years ago.”

  “Are you going to train me to use it?”

  His gaze was bitter. “I would never teach you to wield this. My father used this whip to beat me and my brothers when we were growing up. You’ve seen Wrexel naked; you should know.”

  He turned off the whip and set it back down.

  Wrexel had his share of scars from battles. He was also beautifully sculpted, and this drew her gaze more than the flaws. She spent all of her time trying to avoid looking at him.

  His body made her mind wander in ways she did not like. Staede became
curious when she looked away. “You don’t look at him when he’s naked, do you?”

  Her cheeks heated, and she avoided answering, reluctant to admit that they had only one encounter, knowing that Staede would use this is as a reason to up his advances.

  “Check the back of his thighs one day, when you can tear your eyes off his…”

  “Okay.” She interrupted him quickly.

  “Do you enjoy being with him?” Staede asked suddenly.

  “I don’t like the way this conversation is going.”

  He caught her wrist, preventing her from walk away. “I’ve been in an orgy with him. He has great stamina, but is he good with you, or does his desire steal his finesse?”

  “I will not discuss this with you.” She hated that Wrexel’s sexual past irked her.

  “I know he would never take you against your will, so you must want him.”

  Amber flushed and avoided Staede’s eyes. “I’m not immune to him.”

  Staede caught her hand once again. “Never be ashamed of your desires, Amber. What’s the point? You don’t have to like somebody to enjoy them; carnality can be therapeutic.”

  His wicked grin added to his charm and his thumb stroked her palm as he eyed her mouth with hunger. His eyes were turning violet and the thread of color in his emerald gaze was disarming.

  “Stop,” she warned him. She found Staede attractive and enjoyed being with him, but he took it to a level that made her uncomfortable that day.

  Amber moved away to peruse other items. She liked the idea of hurting Wrexel by pretending she could respond to Staede but she would never follow through.

  He watched her intently for a while, then dropped the subject, indicating that she should follow him into the next room, which he promised had jewelry. He brightened the light, and it splintered off the glass cabinets filled with stones and arrangements she had never seen before.

  “They’re beautiful.” Amber ran her hands over some loose baubles and lifted the intricate designs. “Why are they down here?”

  “Most were my mother’s. Gilroth doesn’t like a reminder of her and her death.” His face twisted angrily and Amber made a mental note to ask him more when he didn’t look so anguished.

  “Thromian women are quite masculine in their clothing choices, but I see many of them wear a necklace like this one,” she said, peering at the ones displayed before her.

  “The band is highly symbolic of a promise,” Staede said. “A father gives it to his daughter and a husband to his wife.”

  “Did your mother wear any of these?”

  “I’m not sure whom these belonged to, but it’s not a royal necklace. You won’t find them here because the royal pledge bands are kept near the Room of Decisions. I would love to show you those.”

  “They must be beautiful because these are amazing.” Amber put one against her neck.

  “The ones in the Monarch’s quarters are much like those you have seen on other Thromian women, though they are sealed with sorcery. The Monarch who built the four wings had them made for his wife and three daughters and it became a custom thereafter for all Thromian females to wear one. They replicated the magic of the originals with technology. When a father or a husband puts the necklace upon the woman’s neck, only the two of them can take it off together. It’s a symbol of bonding. They seal it with both their hands. A father pledging to protect his daughter. A husband swearing loyalty to his wife. They have different meanings.”

  He lifted an emerald and pearl choker and placed it around her neck. “Pretty, but nothing like the royal ones.” His hand lingered on her neck a little too long.

  “I would love to see the magical ones.” She stepped back.

  “Nobody wears the royal necklaces now. Cyla – Shihlo’s late spouse – wore one for a time, but it was returned when she died. So there are four: one for the Monarch and one for me, Shihlo, and Wrexel.”

  Amber took off the necklace and put it back on display, absently touching her bare neck.

  Staede caught the action and his eyes narrowed. “Does it upset you that Wrexel has not given you the gift?”

  “No! I would not wear it.”

  * * *

  She was lost in thought, but the sound of a low growl made her freeze.

  “Staede.” She turned to see if he toyed with her and paled when she saw him looking past her in shock.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered as his hand slowly lowered to his sketh.

  Amber followed his gaze and stifled a moan when one of the black Sanbara slunk into the room. The chains that kept it at the Monarch’s side were missing and it moved toward her with feline grace. She wanted to run, but it blocked their exit. A scream caught in her throat and she grasped at Staede, who moved slowly until he stood beside her. Her breath came out in short bursts and her mind grappled with options, none of which seemed plausible as she shrank against Staede, staring at his gleaming sketh with terror, hoping he would be able to fight off the creature that looked at them with interest.

  “When I tell you, I want you to run past it,” he whispered, never taking his eyes from the beast. The Sanbara sniffed the air and moved even closer to them, its head hunched down as if it would pounce. Staede lifted his sketh, pointing it directly at the animal’s face. It grew in length until the blade almost touched its nose.

  It vibrated and rippled, its metallic fur rising and falling as it tilted its black, silky panther head to the side as if the sketh’s blade blocked what it wanted to see. Amber moaned with horror when its red, glowing gaze went directly to her once again. She watched in frozen immobility as its formerly rigid horns curled back on its head and it leaned even farther forward to peer at her. Its intent wasn’t lost on Staede and he edged Amber behind him, his face slowly contorting in preparation for the attack.

  Her legs felt like lead, terror replacing reason and ability. There was no way she could outrun the creature. As her hand touched the cold wall, they both jerked with shock when the Sanbara suddenly stood on its hind legs and thrust a paw at them. Nails sheathed, it emitted booming purrs that had Amber falter instead of run. Just as Staede pushed her to flee, the Sanbara dropped to the ground and rolled onto its back and then stomach, emitting a sad wail that made Amber halt her steps. It gave her a beseeching look as it shook and vibrated. Amber and Staede gasped when green crackles of electricity roamed down its body and filled the air with a smell that reminded Amber of burning wire. It burnt her nose and throat as the vibrations spread out from the Sanbara and began to roll over her, filling her with a deep sadness that clutched at her heart as it revealed an animal in torment. A strange feeling of compassion came over her, eradicating her fear completely. She had a strong and overwhelming desire to reach out and comfort the large, foreboding animal before her, and she lifted her hand as a sensation of deja vu filled her mind. She couldn’t explain it if she tried, but she knew without any doubt that the Sanbara would not harm her and that the wailing call was meant for her. Her hand continued to rise as her heart clenched and she took a step forward. The wail rolled over her like a song, the melody one she understood.

  Captivity, a desire for freedom, and the horror of submitting to a will that was not your own. The sadness of the creature identified with her own soul so strongly, she found tears slowly gathering in her eyes. The melancholy refrain of its whimpers made her gravitate toward the beast. Staede grasped her and yanked her back in desperation, trying to keep his movements slow but sure as he hissed at her urgently to stay away. The green electricity from the Sanbara rose higher and wafted over Staede as he tried to tug Amber away.

  “This is magic,” he gasped when his body went stiff and the hand holding his sketh began to shake and tremble until, with a cry of defeat, he dropped it, unable to bend and retrieve it or make any move to protect Amber. With one quick motion he was slammed back against the wall as Amber remained motionless, staring, her hand extended in understanding.

  * * *

  Amber felt herself lifted up;
her feet barely touched the ground as she drifted toward the Sanbara. Arms outstretched, her desire to comfort overrode every other thought and emotion within her heart. She could hear Staede pleading with her to run, heard his struggles and grunts to be free of the hold that kept him in place, but for her nothing mattered but the majestic creature in pain before her. In a trance and yet fully aware of her intentions as she slowly knelt before the beast, she extended a hand that trembled, not from fear but from the sheer power of the animal that beckoned her. Finally, she touched its shoulder and her eyes locked with its red ones.

  Her fingers burnt with the power of the beast and it rippled down her arm, but still Amber could not tear herself from the Sanbara, nor forsake its call. All the thundering sounds faded until only its voice of many was heard.

  “Keeper of keys…” The words rumbled around the room.

  “I greet you in my failings.” The wail that followed had Amber stroke its head once again as it lowered in humble submission. “I seek the life orb of our father… taken from my protection. The Monarch hides it and I am his helpless slave.”

  Amber frowned. “I don’t know what you mean; how can I help you?” Her voice sounded like an echo, distorted to her ears.

  It wailed again. “Help me, Keeper of the Keys, help me. Our father returns, I must not fail him. I must find the hidden orb.”

  Amber went rigid when the Sanbara moved slowly forward and touched its nose to hers, filling her mind with a vision.

  Amber became part of the memory and the story.

  She saw herself walking down a long, dark stone passage past cavernous cells to the left and the right. Aged metal bars stood open or hung from hinges in the dungeon that lay beneath the catacombs. She glided forward past the dismal tombs of ancient prisoners to the end of the darkened passage, where the two Sanbara lay in deep slumber upon the stone floor. The only light within the vaults came from the hovering orb that rested between them. It swirled with color and was covered with a green halo. The Monarch Gilroth came down the same passage that she traveled in her vision, his eyes gleaming with hatred as he moved forward slowly, grasping the orb with greedy fingers. She watched him turn and run for the winding steel staircase that was the only entrance to the forgotten oubliettes of Throm.