A guard standing at the door gestured to them to follow, and Elyse and Shaque followed him. Three guards waited outside, two falling in behind them, and two in front. Elyse and Shaque walked side by side, their hands brushing occasionally, but neither looked at the other, instead keeping their gazes forward and their faces expressionless.
The Overlord, it seemed, had many different tastes. On the way to the chamber under the escort of ten burly guards with lasers armed and ready, Elyse noted the corridors and chambers with open doors. Some corridors were cold stone, the chambers coming off them cold and barren, having only a bed, chair and table. Other corridors were richly decorated, the chambers the same, done in heavy brocades, thick velvet, deep reds and blues. A contrast of colours and styles.
The chamber she and Shaque were locked into boasted a huge bed with heavy covers. It looked soft and inviting, but she doubted she'd sleep much tonight, though. A heavy wood table with four high-backed chairs stood on one side of the room. The colours of the room were dark reds, blues, the materials heavy brocades and velvets. For prisoners, it was a swanky room.
The door swung shut behind them with a thump, and the lock clicked into place, leaving them alone.
Immediately Elyse and Shaque walked around the chamber, checking out the window to find their room was at least five floors above ground level, with no balcony or any way to get down. Below them was a stone courtyard, holding nothing apart from several alert guards and four savage hounds that bayed at the sight of Shaque and Elyse in the window. A door led into a richly-decorated bathroom. That was the whole area they were locked into. There were no secret corridors, and no hidden doors that they could find.
Turning from the bathroom, they looked at each other, and without a word both moved simultaneously. Shaque reached for her, and she walked into his arms.
Being cradled in his arms was something she'd never dreamed of doing once. Now, it was all she wanted. A temporary moment of weakness, no doubt, but she was more than willing to ignore that fact.
Seconds ticked past as they simply leaned into each other in silent relief.
Finally, Shaque placed his hands on her shoulders and moved her back enough to enable him to look down into her face. “Are you all right?"
"Fine. You?"
"Never better.” Reaching out, he tilted her chin up with one finger, wiping his thumb gently across the swelling at the corner of her bottom lip.
The momentary softness in his eyes brought warmth to her chilled body. She hadn't realized how cold she felt inside, how frozen, until his gaze met hers so steadily.
She hadn't realized how scared she'd been for his safety. How scared she been that she'd never see him again. And wasn't that ironic?
Placing his lips next to her ear, Shaque said quietly, “This place is bugged, no doubt about it."
"I know.” She turned her head slightly so that she spoke directly into his ear. A damp strand of his hair tickled her nose. “We can't talk much."
"Not about some things. That will have to wait until we're away from here. If we get away from here,” he added.
"I know,” she said again.
Releasing her, Shaque said, “There's food on the table. We need to eat, keep our strength up."
Focusing on the problems at hand, and the fact that their every word was undoubtedly being listened to, Elyse nodded. And to be practical, they did need to keep their strength up, but she wasn't so sure that she could eat much. The familiar squirm deep in her belly filled her with foreboding.
Sitting opposite each other at the table, they took the lids off the heaped bowls of stew and picking up the heavy silver spoons, started eating.
She managed to get a few mouthfuls in before nausea started to pool inside her. Trying to take her mind off it, she said, “We're in a bit of a bind."
Unfazed, he nodded.
"I don't know what The Overlord wants with us."
"It's the mutant inside you he wants.” Shaque spooned up more of the steaming stew.
Mutant. Picking up the silver goblet containing wine of some kind, Elyse held it up and peered into her reflection. A wide rim of red surrounded both the irises and the pupils, making thin bands of the blue and brown in her eyes.
Putting down the goblet, she caught Shaque studying her calmly. With a touch of heat in his eyes.
"Shaque,” she said chidingly.
"What can I say?” he murmured just as quietly, with a hint of humour and desire combined. “Call me a lunatic, call me sick, but you know how turned on I get when you go all tough and dangerous."
"Then I guess I'm lucky that you didn't start humping me with all those observers around, aren't I?” She couldn't stop the faint twitch of amusement that quirked her lips.
"Combine that with the danger we're in, and you can see how horny I can become.” Shaque's voice was calm, but his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners in faint humour. “However, that is something we can attend to ... after."
"Don't even think of shagging in that bed in this room."
"Once we're away from here, Elyse, you're open game for me."
She sobered. “I'm wondering what the agenda is for us right now."
Humour and heat faded to be replaced with his cold, analytic expression. “What happened to you?"
Elyse pushed the stew around with the fork. “I woke up in a tank. The same one Madam had Sonja and me in on Inka. Somehow, that rotting, walking piece of putrid flesh, Phemar, called up my mutant. I don't remember much."
"Do you remember how you got to the holding cell in the room below, where we fought?"
"I remember only from yesterday. I woke in a chamber.” Her gaze flicked around the room. “Not as nice as this. Food was there, everything I needed. No one came near me, I couldn't get out, and all I could do was wait. I ate, sat round for a while, and finally went to bed. When I awoke, it was to find the guards coming into my room, along with Phemar.” She poked at a piece of meat. “I don't remember much after that. I remember being angry, lashing out, then everything sort of faded. I know I felt violent, savage.” She lifted her gaze to look at him. “I guess I went mutant. Then something hit me in the shoulder and everything went black. Next thing, I'm in the room, and I'm so full of rage, I wanted to kill anyone in sight."
But she hadn't killed him. They looked at each other knowingly, but by mutual, silent agreement, said nothing further on it.
Something else to talk about when they were alone and safe. If they ever would be.
"So, where were you playing while I was having fun swimming around like a goldfish?” Elyse picked up the goblet, took a sip of the wine, and fought down the tide of nausea that rose within her.
Shaque chewed the last mouthful of stew from his plate, swallowed, and pushed away the plate. Picking up his goblet, he took a tentative sip before answering. “I woke in a cell, and was kept there until this morning. Only saw Fredrico once, and a man who brought me food three times a day. That's all."
Giving up on trying to eat, Elyse placed the spoon down and leaned back in the chair. Her palms grew damp as sickness roiled through her stomach. Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it. “I wonder what The Overlord wants with us. If it's only my mutant he wants, I might be able to do a deal with him and get you free—"
"We're in this together.” His eyes narrowed. “They want us both. It was a test for both of us, a test we passed. And I wouldn't leave you, anyway."
"Shaque—"
"We're in a tight fix, and it seems the only thing we can do is follow along until we see what they have planned for us."
"You're being stubborn about this as usual."
"You'd understand all about that, now, wouldn't you?” Before she could retort, he added, “The Overlord is going to answer questions tomorrow, apparently, so we have until then to wonder about their plans for us."
"Whatever it is, it can't be good."
"You think?” he asked dryly.
Elyse gave him a dead-panned stare, absurdly relieved t
o hear the hint of humour in his voice. If she had to choose a companion to be with her during this nightmare, she would have chosen Shaque. And how sick was that?
A sudden upsurge of gorge welled in her throat, but she managed to choke it down, drinking from the goblet of wine to wash the taste away.
Shaque looked at her “I don't suppose, by some magic miracle, you have your pills somewhere?"
"I wish.” A hot flush went through her, and sweat sheened on her brow.
He stood up. “Lie down for a while and try to sleep. It may pass."
But what if it didn't? Without the pills ... Standing up, she started towards the bed, and felt her legs start to wobble. Weakness spread through her fast, and she stumbled, would have fallen if Shaque hadn't sprung froward and caught her.
Carrying her to the bed, he laid her down, and she saw the concern etched into the tight lines around his mouth and eyes.
"Don't worry. It'll pass,” she said, closing her eyes and willing the roiling nausea away.
She heard the shift of something heavy, and opened her eyes to see Shaque dragging a heavy armchair over to the side of the bed. About to object, she caught his cold, steady gaze and knew it was useless. He'd do as he pleased.
And secretly, she was glad he was with her. Being sick and helpless in this Godforsaken place wasn't something she liked. Having Shaque by her side gave her a measure of security. Sure, the guards could come in, gas them, kill them, whatever The Overlord chose, but Shaque's presence nevertheless gave her comfort.
Because she knew he wouldn't desert her, not now in her hour of need, and not later, because it wasn't his way. Shaque would fight with her and for her.
Sitting down, Shaque leaned against the huge backrest and relaxed, although his gaze remained alert. Reaching out, he took her hand.
"Shaque,” she whispered. “If someone sees—"
"They can go to hell,” he replied bluntly. “And you can go to sleep."
"We're going to have a talk later about your bossiness, hunter."
"When you're well, we can fight all you want."
Closing her eyes, she smiled slightly. “You're such a softy, you know that?"
He grunted, but his fingers squeezed hers briefly.
Tired, her wounds throbbing, she drifted off into blessed sleep.
When she awoke during the night, she was in bed, cradled against Shaque's chest with her head tucked under his chin. His arms held her close.
A dim light came from a lamp in the far corner of the room. It was pitch-black out the window. In the distance someone screamed, and faintly came the sound of someone sobbing and pleading. Harsh laughter. Hounds fought over something, and more screaming followed.
Wonderful. Someone was being torn apart by hounds. That just inspired pleasant dreams.
Shaque's arms tightened around her. He didn't say anything, but tucked her in closer to him, and she was more than happy to snuggle against him.
Gradually the sounds faded and she slipped back into sleep, lulled by his steady heartbeat and equally steadying presence.
Twelve
The door unlocking was faint, but enough to make Elyse and Shaque spring into immediate awareness. They both swung off the bed to face it, wary, balancing on the balls of their feet, ready for danger.
A guard walked in, holding a bundle of clothes which he dropped on the table. He glanced at them. “You have an hour to eat and get ready to see The Overlord."
Elyse looked at him, while Shaque's gaze went to the open door.
"Don't try to escape,” the guard advised. “There's no way out of here, or off this planet. There's nothing you do here that The Overlord won't know about within minutes."
A hard-faced woman dressed in a short gown entered, bearing a tray with two bowls on it, a jug of water and two glasses. Placing it on the table, she turned to leave. She looked at Shaque without interest, but her gaze sharpened as she looked at Elyse, and she smiled, showing sharp teeth.
"Don't,” the guard said tonelessly. “She is The Overlord's."
The woman scowled and flounced out of the room. The guard followed, locking the door behind him.
"You have an admirer.” Shaque strode across to the table and lifted the covers on the bowl.
"Lucky me.” Elyse followed him over and peered into the bowls. “Looks like ... something."
Lifting up a spoon, Shaque scooped a small amount of the jelly-like substance, took a sniff, and then tasted a bit on the tip of his tongue.
Pouring out two glasses of water, Elyse watched as he swirled the food in his mouth, swallowed and thought about it.
"I have no idea,” he said finally. “But I'm still standing."
"Maybe it's a delayed reaction poison."
"Comforting.” Picking up the second bowl, he placed it on the table opposite him. “Eat all of this. You ate nothing last night."
With a grunt, Elyse sat down, picked up the spoon and gingerly tasted the jelly substance. It didn't have much taste, and had a grain-like texture. With a shrug, she started eating.
The meal passed in silence. Elyse wondered what The Overlord had planned, and going by the cold speculation in Shaque's eyes, he was thinking the same.
Finished eating, she went to the pile of clothes and shook them out. It was a relief to find her boots among the pile, as well as what looked to be her own shirt, pants and underwear. Shaque's clothes were there as well.
"Someone has been moving around your ship.” Shaque took his clothes from the table. “They bypassed your security shield."
That fact alone annoyed her. Yanking off the gown, she dressed in her own clothes, Shaque doing the same thing not ten feet from her. It should have been surprising how at ease in each other's presence they'd become, but Elyse didn't even think about it. It just was.
No sooner had they finished dressing than the door opened and the guard gestured to them.
Obviously they had been under visual surveillance, and that didn't surprise her at all.
In the midst of the guards, two at the front and three behind, Elyse and Shaque were taken to an elevator at the end of the long corridor. When it stopped moving, the door slid open to reveal an immense room. A fire burned in a pit in the middle of the room, a table against one side held jugs of drink and glasses, and another table not far off held bottles and jars of unknown substance. Along the opposite wall were instruments of torture—or perversion, Elyse thought, because who knew what might tickle the fancy of The Overlord?
The Overlord was sitting in his throne on the far side of the room. Fredrico and Veknor flanked him, their faces expressionless. Phemar stood not far off, face hidden in the darkness of the drooping hood, hands and feet hidden in his long, tattered robe.
A monstrous shadow slipped across the wall and blended into the dark shadows in the corner of the room. The heat of the fire did nothing to dispel the otherworldly chill that permeated the air.
As the guards moved them past the fire, Elyse could see a dark hole in the stone floor. It wasn't large, but it disappeared into blackness. How deep it was, was anyone's guess.
They were brought to a halt a small distance from The Overlord and the guards retreated, leaving the small group alone in the massive chamber.
Elyse gazed steadily at The Overlord. On the one hand, she wanted to rip his alien head off, but on the other hand, he'd promised them answers. Answers that might lead to a way to keep her alive, answers that might lead to the girl who was possibly Shaque's niece.
And then she saw her. A small, dark-haired girl with big, frightened eyes. She stood behind Fredrico, one hand clinging to the back of his shirt. Partially hidden from view, she surveyed the newcomers with scared eyes, but relief also flickered deep within them when she saw Elyse.
The girl made to move forward, but Fredrico put his arm out, blocking her move, and she subsided. A glint of anger flared briefly in her eyes, but fear won out, and she stood silent behind him, her fingers still entwined in the back of his shirt.
<
br /> Elyse wondered what Shaque was thinking, but she didn't look at him. Instead, she moved her gaze back to The Overlord.
He was watching her silently, his pupils elongated. One white hand caressed the silver knob on the sceptre he held upright at his side, the end of it resting on the base of throne. His rich robes overflowed the throne.
"I trust you're both rested.” The Overlord's words came out as a low hiss.
She didn't bother to reply.
The Overlord looked directly at her, and she stared blankly back, not giving anything away of her thoughts or feelings. Curse the white worm. If I could get you alone for a few seconds, I'd rip your answers from your mouth.
The only sound in the room was that of the fire crackling.
"Let's not waste time,” The Overlord said abruptly. “We need things from each other."
Elyse arched one brow.
"I need two predators,” The Overlord continued. “Both to hunt, one to kill, and one to control."
He wanted to hunt them? Kill Shaque and control her mutant? Elyse's brow arched higher. Why bother to tell them? To make the hunt more thrilling for himself?
The Overlord contemplated them both for several seconds. “I can see you don't quite understand. Let's put it another way. You're both predators. I need you both to hunt the one I send you after, then you, Elyse, will kill her, and Shaque will control you."
"Control me?"
"Control the mutant side of you."
"I don't just go mutant any second."
"You're unstable."
Her eyes narrowed. “Not that unstable."
His expression didn't alter. “More unstable than you were."
"Because your dark mystic could call forth my mutant you think I'm more unstable? I can control myself—"She choked off as something pierced her mind, clawing fingers ripping deep and curling into her mutant, dragging it to the surface.
She fought, dropping to her knees. Dimly she heard Shaque's angry voice, his threats, and then something slamming with a dull thud against a wall.
Turning her head slightly, she caught a glimpse of Shaque pinned high up against the stone wall, held by ... nothing. But shadows slipped around him. He wasn't scared, but downright furious.
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