"You could heal her,” Shaque stated.
"I could.” The Overlord placed the goblet down. “I could call back the mutant inside her. I could call back the very spirit of it, the essence, which is, in fact, my essence. If done in time, Elyse will live. Wait much longer, and it will be too late. The mutant will dominate, but it can't live without Elyse. She'll die."
"So save her."
"Elyse has a job to do.” Steepling his fingers, The Overlord studied Elyse over the tips of them. “My people know she is part of me. They know Elyse is my chosen assassin, and they know she carries my essence inside her. That makes it acceptable."
"It doesn't make it acceptable to me!” Elyse shook with fury. “I'm not your pawn!"
"You're alive only because I have allowed you to live. I could have killed you at any time."
"You didn't know what I carried until recently!"
"You've interested me for a long time. I've watched you, but yes, until I discovered you carried my genes, I didn't have the same kind of interest. Now, I need you."
"Find someone else.” She fisted her hands. “I'll not do your bidding just because you say you can save my life!"
The Overlord's lips tightened, and his eyes started to glow with a hot burn. “Have a care, mutant. Do not forget to whom you speak."
"What? You want me to call you Daddy?” Rage poured through Elyse, and she welcomed it, for it pushed her sickness, her fear, her self-disgust down, and allowed her to focus attention on the cause of her problems.
The Overlord leaned forward, the slits of his nostrils flaring slightly. “Don't push me, mutant. I have let you question me when I would have crushed others."
Shaque ranged himself fully by her side. “But you need us, and that's why you allow us to question you."
"The questioning is over.” The Overlord slashed his hand through the air. “Sarita is in the Lawful Sector. Phemar has located her, and the coordinates are keyed into your viscomm. You will go there and either retrieve or kill her, I don't care which. I am The Overlord, and I rule this Inner Sanctum. My word is law!"
Fury pumped through Elyse. “You bastard!"
The Overlord's eyes burned with fury.
"Elyse,” Shaque said warningly. “Don't say anything! Don't—"
"Well, guess what, Daddy?” Elyse snarled. “I'm a very disobedient little girl! So you can go and get fu—"
Agonizing pain ripping internally at her, dropping her to hands and knees, making her writhe and pitch to the floor. Blood gushed from her mouth, poured from her nose. Choking, coughing, she convulsed as agony tore through her.
Shaque dropped to his knees beside her, reaching for her, but the monstrous black shadow slid behind him, the vague toss of a giant bull's head on a man's shoulders, huge and dimly outlined. The glitter of demonic eyes.
Shaque was dragged back. He roared her name, struggling, and she saw the fury in his eyes, the fear.
The pain was excruciating, her internal organs feeling as though they were on fire, twisting in on themselves. Her muscles cramped, contracted, and she heard herself scream out in torment.
Kill me! Oh God, kill me quick! Take the pain away! Take it away!
"Don't!” Shaque roared. “Leave her alone. Stop! Stop, you're killing her!"
Through slitted eyes Elyse saw the fury in The Overlord's face. Fury and cruelty. The mercilessness.
Blackness tugged at her, but something dragged her from the welcome oblivion, something that tore her harshly, ripping at her. Blood pooled in her lungs, her heart hammered unevenly. The mutant inside her roared as she screamed, the sound thundering in the air.
Outside somewhere came the baying of hounds, a startled voice. Laughter.
Pain cut across her kidneys, burned fire up her spine, cut through her flesh and scoured her skin in pricks of agonizing blazes.
Suddenly it faded, leaving her still in pain, but not writhing in agony. She found herself huddled against the wall, her shirt drenched in blood, the warm, wet liquid across her face. She swiped a shaking hand across the lower part of her face, wiped the crimson on her already bloodied shirt front. Her stomach rebelled at the blood she'd swallowed, her muscles trembled with fatigue. She ached, pain eating at the edges of her control. Panting, she tried to get her racing heart to slow down.
Fredrico knelt before her. His cold blue eyes searched her face, and then he reached out, taking her chin in a firm grasp, ignoring the blood, and turned her face towards Shaque. Softly, so that only she could hear, he ordered, “Look.".
She did. Through a haze of pain, she saw Shaque still struggling, his normally expressionless face pale. Fear was in his eyes.
Fear for her.
Fury at not being able to go to her, not being able to help her. Rage at The Overlord, fear for her.
That's what The Overlord had meant when he'd said that Shaque knew fear.
Pushing Fredrico's hand away, Elyse said hoarsely, “Goddamn you, Fredrico! Goddamn you for a traitor!"
He simply watched her calmly.
And then the pain strengthened, a crippling agony that slowly twisted through her body. Over Fredrico's shoulder she saw The Overlord sitting in his throne. His pink eyes glowed, his hand tight on the knob of the sceptre.
Tahlia was cringing behind Veknor, her horrified stare on Elyse.
But it was The Overlord who held her life in his hands. She knew it now. Knew it as surely as she knew that he'd brought on her illness, twisted it inside her, brought it rupturing forth.
"Yes,” the Overlord said. “Now you know."
"Goddamn you!” She cursed.
And screamed as she was thrown back against the wall, the pain arching her back. Blood bubbled, organs burned. Tears flowed. Clenching her fists, she tried to ride out the agony, but it tore the screams from her lips, making the chamber resound with the agonized cries, shattering the quietness of the corridors and ringing through the windows to those listening in the courtyards below.
"Stop!” Shaque thundered. “We'll do it! We'll bloody do it! Stop!"
The pain receded, but it still held her in its claws. Panting, blood shining wetly and dripping, Elyse half collapsed against the wall again. Fredrico was still kneeling before her, watching her through fathomless eyes.
Reaching out, he picked up the rag and wiped her mouth gently.
"Now you know,” The Overlord said quietly. His fury was gone, but the cruelty was stamped on his alien face. “Don't ever presume that I am powerless, that I will take your insults or anyone else's. I am master of this domain.” He looked at Shaque. “Your word that you will carry out this mission."
"Shaque. No.” Elyse looked at him out of tear-filled eyes. “Not you."
The Overlord's gaze bored into Shaque.
Shaque didn't hesitate. “I'll do it."
The Overlord's gaze switched to Elyse.
She glared back at him weakly.
"Still so defiant.” He raised one hand. “You know the pain you felt. You only survived because of the mutant inside you. Shaque has no hope of surviving that kind of torture."
He couldn't mean ... Elyse looked at Shaque, the gorge rising in her throat. His eyes were glittering chips of winter blue. No, she couldn't stand to see him go through the same pain.
"Let me help you make up your mind,” The Overlord began.
"No!” Elyse pushed upright, her shaking legs almost unable to support her. Leaning back against the wall, shirt and pants soaked in blood, her face warm with it, the mutant weakly struggling to the surface inside her, she snarled, “He's mine."
"He is,” The Overlord returned emotionlessly. “It's your choice."
"I'll do it.” Shuddering, she forced the mutant down, glad that even though she was weakened, so was her mutant, making it easy to wrench control back. “I'll do it. But Shaque goes free."
"No!” Shaque's word cracked like a whip.
"No,” The Overlord agreed. “You both go together."
She couldn't argue. There wa
s nothing to argue with. If she refused, Shaque would be torn apart with pain until he died. Slowly, agonizingly. Knowing that pain, she couldn't do it to him.
Leaning back against the wall in case she fell, she watched as Shaque was released, but something still held him to one spot, not allowing him to approach her. The shadow was still behind him, the vague impression of a monstrous hand that covered his head, shoulders, and half his body.
"If we kill Sarita,” Elyse said, forcing her voice steady. “You promise to let Shaque go."
"Of course."
"And you save Elyse's life,” Shaque added. “You take the cursed mutant from her, your essence, and you leave her with me."
The Overlord nodded. “I'll take my essence back, freeing Elyse from the strength of her mutant."
"Take the mutant inside her."
"The mutant is part of her, hunter. My essence is what makes it strong, uncontrollable, makes it surface and struggle to break free. I can take my essence back, but the mutant remains with her."
Elyse looked at Shaque.
"With your essence gone, Elyse will live? In no pain, no illness?” He looked intently at the Overlord.
"Yes."
Shaque was released suddenly, and he wasted no time in striding across to Elyse. He would have slid an arm around her waist, but she shook her head slightly, so he stood beside her. Close beside her, his hand rested on the back of her waist instead.
Elyse caught sight of the young girl, Tahlia, watching the proceedings through terrified eyes. “What of the girl?"
The Overlord shrugged. “She was the pawn to bring you into our reach. To bring Shaque to you, and both of you to us. We suspected Shaque could control you. I suspected it when we let the word out that Shaque was accompanying you through the Outlaw Sector, that he was with you every step of the way. The fight in the tavern was observed by me, and it proved what we suspected—Shaque has some kind of control over your mutant. There is an emotional bond between you, and I need that bond for this to work."
"So Tahlia is not my niece.” Shaque stated it flatly.
"No. She's merely one of your sister's strays.” The Overlord didn't care, and it showed in the way he didn't even look at the girl.
"So what happens to her now?” Shaque looked down at the girl, at her wide-open eyes, the fear in them as she huddled close to Veknor.
"I don't care.” Picking up the goblet, The Overlord drained it of the contents. “She is of no use to me now. She isn't your niece, and she holds no clues to Elyse's dilemma. I have given her to Fredrico, since he asked for her."
Jaw tight, Elyse looked at Fredrico. What would he do to her? She remembered when she'd seen him with the girl the first time.
"A message in exchange for something you have,” Fredrico continued softly.
"What would you have of me?” the girl whispered.
Kneeling down before her, Fredrico cupped her small chin in one hand. His voice was quiet, but the chill in the air intensified. “What will you give?"
"I have nothing—"
"Ah. Not true.” His thumb caressed her cheek. “You have something most precious."
Fredrico met her gaze steadily while holding out his hand to the girl. She crept forward, slipping her little palm against his.
"Fredrico,” Elyse snarled. “No."
"Don't fret, sweet Elyse,” he replied tonelessly. “Tahlia will be going to live with Uncle Cy. He'll see that she's cared for and unharmed."
"I'd ask for your word on that but we both know what your word means,” she said scathingly. “You wanted something from her once."
"That something was merely part of the trap to get you and Shaque,” he replied. “I have never given you my word on anything,” he added. “But I give you my word on Tahlia."
"She'll never be the same after the horrors she's seen here."
"Tahlia will remember nothing of this place.” Fredrico glanced down at the top of the girl's head. “You have my word on that also.” He looked back at Elyse. “You may not trust my word, and it's not my problem, but Tahlia will go to Uncle Cy unharmed. And you know he will care for her, as he did for you and Sonja."
"Why would he? He was more than willing to use me."
"Because I will tell him that she is my daughter."
The words stunned Elyse, but she recovered quickly. She didn't know if she could trust Fredrico or not, but then, did she have a choice?
"You won't know if I speak the truth or not until later,” Fredrico stated. “Contact Uncle Cy in several days’ time. Check in on him. You'll find Tahlia safely in his care."
"We can drop her back to him,” Elyse said.
"No."
And there was nothing else to be done for it. Tahlia looked up at Elyse. Fear was in her eyes, but also a certain amount of trust when she tipped her head back and looked up at Fredrico.
He gave her a brief smile, a faint movement, but it was enough to make her press against him.
Elyse's head was thumping, nausea in the back of her throat. She felt weak, but she was determined not to buckle in front of The Overlord or Fredrico.
The Overlord's throne lifted to hover in the air. “Enough time has been wasted. Elyse and Shaque have much to do. Take them to their ship, and see them off.” His slitted pupils dilated when he looked at Elyse. “I will know your movements. I will know if you deviate from the agreed plan. I will know where your ship lands, and when. Don't try anything."
The door opened and the guards came in. Their eyes were curious when they came around the fire pit, and several smiled to see the blood covering Elyse.
Elyse's legs trembled, her muscles shaking with fatigue. Blood loss combined with shock and the torment her body had endured made her stumble when she moved away from the support of the wall.
Shaque slid one arm around her waist, and she didn't try to pull away this time, instead allowing him to support some of her weight.
The guards surrounded them and took them from the room in the elevator.
The corridors were empty, but Elyse caught glimpses of faces, and had no doubt her bloodied and weakened condition would find favour for The Overlord in the eyes of his people.
The trip seemed to take forever, every step she took by force of will alone. The headache started to pound at her temples, making dots dance before her eyes.
The courtyard was empty, even the hounds having been taken away. Bits of mouldering flesh and particles of bone dotted the stones.
Another long corridor, this one dark and lit by sputtering torches, and then they stepped out into the hot sunshine. In front of them was her spaceship, and she thought she'd never seen such a welcome sight.
The guards waited impassively for them to board the ship.
Once inside, Shaque touched the controls and the ramp slid up and closed.
Out of sight of all, in the privacy of the cargo hold, Elyse slumped.
"Not yet, Elyse.” Shaque swung her up into his arms, his gaze searching her face. “We need to get off this planet. You need to set the coordinates to get us off. I don't know how to operate your control console."
"If I'd known this was going to happen, I'd have shown you a long time ago."
His face remained grim. Taking the stairs two at a time, he went up the stairwell and out into the corridor. In the control cabin, he sat her in a chair and took the co-pilot chair beside her.
Her hands shook while she checked the coordinates of where they were. Keyed in already, she saw a set of coordinates that was to take them to where Sarita was hiding. She pressed the knowledge code, and the ship lifted off the planet.
Leaning back in the chair, she closed her eyes. “It's on automatic pilot. I'll have to teach you to fly this thing later."
It was the last thing she remembered saying before blackness slid over her.
Dimly she felt Shaque catch her and pull her into his arms. The sensation of being carried, and the softness of a mattress beneath her. The coolness of clean air touching her bare skin a
s her bloodied clothes were removed, wet cloths and fragrant soap wiping away the stickiness of her blood.
Able to obey Shaque's commands that slipped distantly through the layers of fog clouding her consciousness, she moved sluggishly, but he helped her. She moved from side to side, his body and hands supporting her.
The wash was finally over, but he wasn't finished yet. His arm came behind her, lifting her up slightly. “Open your mouth, Elyse."
She did as bidden, and small round objects were placed on her tongue. She recognized the bitter taste. Byron's pills. A glass was placed at her lips, and instinctively she swallowed. Shaque lowered her to the bunk again, the pillow a soft support for her aching head.
Finally it was over, and cool covers were pulled over her. Her hair was smoothed back from her forehead, warm lips brushed briefly over her pounding temple.
"Shaque,” she whispered.
"I'm here."
It was the last thing she heard as she finally tipped over into the beckoning black void and into blessed oblivion.
* * * *
Shaque sat watch at Elyse's bedside for several hours. Boots propped on the bed, crossed at the ankles, he watched her with his chin resting on a fist.
She carried The Overlord's genes. The missing donor was The Overlord. Sweet God Almighty.
Broodingly, he studied her. Skin so pale from blood loss, her lips moving slightly as she muttered something in her uneasy sleep. Thick lashes fluttered slightly, and she moved restlessly beneath the covers.
Her hand flailed out, and he caught it easily, holding it in his larger palm.
She quietened and slid deeper into sleep.
Elyse was the product of not just any experiment, but an experiment in betrayal. An innocent pawn who was paying for it with her life.
Many would be revolted to know she was related to The Overlord. To an alien white being who ruled the most dangerous place in the universe with murderous control.
The shock in Elyse's eyes, the inner revulsion at the knowledge thrust so cruelly upon her, had been stamped clearly on her face. For the first time, he'd seen her lose emotional cool. Had seen her almost shatter.
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