by Kiersten Fay
One time during the evening Calic had whispered something to him, and he raked her with a look that stopped her in her tracks and almost sent a large pile of dishes crashing to the floor. It was the same look he gave her last night, and it had made her entire body shudder.
“Hi ya.” Sonya was suddenly in front of her. Analia hadn't even heard her enter the room. “You almost finished here?” She jumped up and planted herself on the counter where Analia had just finished cleaning. Her legs swung leisurely off the ledge.
“I still have some cleaning to do, but I believe I'll be finished soon.”
“Marik?” Sonya yelled through the window.
“Take her. I'll finish up here.”
Analia protested, “No, I can finish.”
“Go on, Anya. You did well today. I'll see you tomorrow.”
Sonya didn't wait for her reply before she hopped off the counter and pulled her toward the exit. “I have a surprise for you,” she practically sang.
“A surprise?” Analia noted the casual way Sonya gripped her hand, and smiled back at her as she continued leading her down the hall.
“I've been hunting all day long for you. I was tempted to keep some for myself.” She flipped her hair dramatically and sighed. “You're lucky I'm the generous type.”
“I have no idea what you're taking about.” Analia almost laughed at the playfully wicked look Sonya gave her.
“We're here.” They stopped in front of Analia's room. “Well? Go in.”
Tentatively, Analia stepped inside, not sure what to expect. All around the room, clothes were draped over the couch, the bed, tables and chairs. “What's this?”
“Your new wardrobe.” Sonya smiled and clapped her hands together as if it was the most amazing sight, and for Analia, it was.
Her gaze rolled over the room, taking in the clothing of all shapes and colors. She had never had a wardrobe before. The only clothing Darius allowed her were tatter rags, not even fit for cleaning with. Biting back tears, Analia looked at Sonya, the muscles in her throat tightening as she fought the overwhelming emotion, unable to speak her gratitude.
“Stop that,” Sonya scolded. “You're going to get me going. Go. Go play with your new toys.”
As Sonya watched, Analia browsed the collection, feeling the materials. Some were softer than others, and she couldn't wait to wear them. Her outfit for the morning was already chosen before she finished browsing through every item.
“It's not the best. It's only what people were willing to part with, but I was able to get you some pretty nice stuff. Don't you think?”
“Thank you, Sonya. But this is too much, I think. I'm leaving the ship after the delivery.” Though Analia secretly hoped otherwise.
“You'll still need clothes after you leave us, won't you? Lesson number one, you can never have enough clothing.” With sly movements and a wicked grin, Sonya slinked farther into the room. “Lesson number two? Shoes!” She opened a closet to reveal a small pile of footwear.
Anya moved to get a better view. Some were flat and some were spiked at the heel like Sonya's. Though they were beautiful, Analia found herself wondering how you'd walk in them.
Sonya must have seen her reservation. “Have you ever worn heels before?”
Analia shook her head.
“Ooh. This will be fun. Try them on, and let me see your walk.” Sonya plopped onto the couch expectantly.
Discarding her flats, Analia strapped on one of the scarier pair. She was surprised at how balanced you had to be in order to stay upright.
After stumbling many times, and hearing Sonya's giggles of delight, Analia asked, “Why do you go through this trouble?”
“Because, they look great!” she said, as though the question was a silly one.
“Oh.”
“Keep trying, you'll get it.” Sonya stood and gave her a slow demonstration. Analia followed her example, and after many attempts, was able to walk across the room with only one slip.
Even though she seemed to thoroughly enjoy Analia's every falter—every one of Sonya's howls and giggles drew a laugh from Analia as well—Sonya applauded Analia's mild triumph. “Very nice, now try another pair.”
This time, she chose a smaller heel, which was much easier, but still trying. She made it across the room with no slips, and smiled at her own success. This pair would go perfect with her outfit tomorrow.
Sonya turned serious. Analia could tell something was on her mind, and was sure she was about to be questioned, again, but asked anyway. “What is it?”
“I heard something about you, that you were a slave. Is it true?”
Analia merely nodded in confirmation.
“For how long?”
“Almost all my life. I was a child when my mother died. I don't remember exactly how old I was, or my true age now, but I estimate it has been about two hundred years.”
“I'm sorry. I can't imagine what that would be like. Marik was a slave, did he tell you?
“Yes.”
“When we saved him, he was wild. Almost mad, from what they did to him. You seem to be more stable. But then, demons don't do well in captivity. We are ruled by emotions that border on the extreme. Happy, sad, or angry we feel them very strongly. Perhaps your kind has more control over themselves.”
“I'm not sure. Maybe. There were many times I thought I would go mad. There was a time when I think I was mad. My mind would invent hallucinations.”
At times, she would see a ghost of a man. The same man each time. He was older, and reminded her of something, or someone, she couldn't quite remember. She imagined he had ears like hers and kind eyes. She figured it was a way for her mind to cope with the long periods of isolation.
“For some reason, I would always come back from the brink of insanity. I don't know why or how, I just did. And then I was myself once more. I remember feeling that there was something more for me. That eventually, I would be free. I guess that kept me sane.” What Analia didn't say was that the hallucination would tell her these things. He would tell her he could sense her future and assured her that she would be okay.
Even though she knew he wasn't real, Analia always kept him in the back of her mind, for strength.
“So, you don't know how old you are?”
“No.”
“When is your birthday?”
“I don't remember. Like I said, I was very young when my mother died.”
“Were you enslaved because she died?”
“Yes and no. I remember we were running from something, something from my home planet, I think.” Analia's brows drew together as she tried to remember. She hadn't thought of her mother, or the events that wove her fate for so long.
“Get her out of here, keep her safe,” someone had yelled.
The memory almost surfaced. “When we approached a large ship, I remember my mother seemed to grow upset. She was yelling at someone, the pilot maybe. I just looked out the window as we began to dock. The ship became our home. We hadn't been there very long before my mother passed away.”
Darius had told her it was suicide. She believed him, at first, when she was only a child. But now she had no doubt that Darius was behind the death.
“After that, I belonged to…” Analia trailed off. She had almost given a name. Stupid. “I was a slave from that point on.” She remembered the first time Darius hooked her up to the ship, drawing out her energy in excruciating waves. She thought she would die from the pain of it.
Sonya, now visibly saddened by her story, slumped on the couch. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm glad that you're free now. May your life be filled with happiness from now till the end.”
Analia tried to shrug off the sense of foreboding that flooded her. Darius could still find her. She realized she couldn't stay on Marada, as she'd been wishing all day. Eventually, he will come looking for her. Not only would he find her and claim her once more, but—and it only occurred to her now—the people on this ship were in danger, because of her.
Analia was intrigued by the feelings Sebastian brought out in her and was grateful that he was helping her. Unfortunately, the only way she could see to repay his kindness, was to get as far away from him, and Marada, as possible, before Darius realized Sebastian was aiding her.
The loneliness that had been curbed by today's events came crashing back on her with the weight of a steel cage.
As soon as Sonya left for the night, Analia showered, lingering under the new luxury of fresh, warm water. A bout of anticipation hit her as she exited the bathing chamber, and then, strangely enough, disappointment, when she found herself alone. She curled up on the couch.
The feeling of anticipation had startled her. The disappointment alarmed her. Did she want Sebastian to be here waiting for her? Looking at her the way he had in the salon, or the night before? That couldn't be what she wanted.
Sebastian was more handsome than any male she'd ever seen. With eyes that glowed gold and hair as black as space. Horns that faded from deep magenta at the base, to black at the tip. She imagined what they might feel like. Were they hard to the touch? Warm like his skin? Or cool?
He seemed to be bringing out unfamiliar desires in her. At the thought of him, her body grew warm and ached with need. What might he have done if she had embraced him the night before?
What was wrong with her?
It was a good thing she wasn't staying on this ship, with a male that had such a strong effect on her. Every time Sebastian came near her, the attraction grew stronger. With her strange desire, it was possible he could obtain more control over her than Darius ever had. The thought sobered her, and she quelled her silly fantasies.
She would take command of herself from this point on. Besides, as he'd said, she wouldn't be seeing much of him anyway. She told herself she was glad about that. That she would be so busy herself she would have no time to think of him. She made herself say it over and over again until she believed the convenient lie.
* * *
——
* * *
“Dammit, Anya!”
Analia's body jerked awake, but she kept her eyes closed and clutched the covers to her chin. Sebastian was here again, and angry that she hadn't heeded his order to use the bed he'd provided for her.
She peeked through squinted eyes.
As she suspected, his were angered, and he seemed to be waiting for an explanation. He wore a deep blue short sleeved shirt that revealed his muscular arms, crossed over his chest, and black pants that seemed to have been made to fit him perfectly. His hair was tussled in a way that made him look sexy and dangerous at the same time.
Fighting her body's reaction to him, she felt her nipples grow hard, and that achy need from last night was slowly returning.
She hadn't expected him to show up after his declaration about being too busy to deal with her. She'd believed it so much that she dared to wear one of the smaller sleeping gowns, with the softest material she'd ever felt. Unfortunately, it hugged her body and clung to her curves. Not good. She needed him to stay in control of himself so she could do the same, and she had the feeling that her tiny outfit would hinder them both.
Why was he here, anyway? To make sure she was obeying his orders? Her blood boiled at the thought. Did he think he was her new master? She was done being controlled by males!
“Why are you sleeping on the couch again? I told you to use the bed. I had it brought in for your comfort, and you will use it.”
His arrogant, commanding tone irritated the desire right out of her. The affront that he could order her around, as though she were part of his crew—when he’d made it crystal clear that she wasn't—snapped something inside her. Violently throwing the covers aside, she stood on the couch to match his height and challenged him with a steady gaze.
Fists clenched. “I'm done taking orders Sebastian! I'm free of that. I'll sleep where I want, when I want, and I don't have to explain myself to you. If you don't like it, then you can do what you originally promised to do and throw me out into space. I'm not one of your crew, and I'm no one's slave!”
Sebastian's jaw had dropped halfway through her speech. His shocked eyes lowered to her breasts, and she became painfully aware once more of the scantily clad nightgown. Analia fought the urge to grab for the blanket and cover herself. She needed to stand her ground now, or lose both her confidence and the battle she may have just begun.
Sonya had said demons were ruled by strong emotions. She realized she was provoking him with both her body and her sharp tongue. She would have never done that to Darius. Couldn't even fathom the punishment he would have rendered at her outburst. Analia feared she was about to see a side of Sebastian that would forever change her view of him.
Sebastian dropped his folded arms and took an angry step toward her. Then he stopped a few feet away. Just when she'd begun to waver in her resolve, his lips curled slightly. She cursed her body for being affected once again by that tiny smile.
His eyes were still on her body when he spoke. “You're not a slave here, Anya. I don't want you for that.” His piercing gaze flashed to her face. Her breath caught at the mingling of emotions she saw there. Anger, desire, sorrow, and back to anger. “You are, however, on my ship. Illegally, I might add. And as long as you're here, you will be treated as though you are under my command.”
Analia set her jaw. His smile became mischievous, as though he were enjoying himself.
They stood that way for a moment, his arrogance against her newly found stubbornness. Then he said, “You need to get dressed.” Crossing his arms again, he took a step back. “Now.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his stance. The action caused the material to stretch tighter around her breasts, and for a moment, she regretted the move—until Sebastian's jaw clenched, and a slow, almost inaudible groan escaped him.
The sound caused the warmth in her to grow hotter, a throbbing pulse flowed through her, and her skin became super sensitive. She could feel every fiber of the soft material rubbing against her flesh. Her heart pounded against her rib cage making her breath hitch.
Like a statue, Sebastian froze. The only indication of his emotion was in his eyes. He explored her with his gaze, but it almost felt like a physical touch. As he perused her body, his muscles seemed to grow tighter, and a tic started in his jaw.
He dropped his arms, fists clenched, and took another step back, tearing away his gaze. “Get dressed,” he barked.
His tone made her jump, fear quickly replacing desire.
Thank the gods!
She grabbed the clothes she had selected the night before and rushed to the bathroom. The doors swooshed open at her approach and didn’t close fast enough once she had entered.
When she was safely inside, she leaned wearily against the wall. What had just happened? Before meeting Sebastian, she had been docile, obedient, and tame. Now? Now she didn't know what she was.
Analia had expected Sebastian to lose control, as he had the night before. Somewhere inside her she thought maybe she had wanted him to, and she scolded herself for it. But he was nothing like before.
Perhaps, now that he knew she'd been a slave, his opinion of her had dropped. The thought should have made her glad, but it didn't.
As Analia dressed, she once again thought over her new life and how she was already so changed by it. She found that she liked the racing of her heart, when it was caused by something other than punishment. She had loved the unpredictability of the day before. Even a moment ago with Sebastian had been exciting, as well as frightening.
For the first time in her life, she was eager for more.
* * *
The moment Anya entered the bathing chamber, Sebastian ran out of ther
e like some sort of deviant. He'd been foolish to come here this morning. Selfish and foolish! Making sure she was following his orders had been just an excuse he had branded into his mind, to allow himself to see her. Deep down he knew there was another reason. He just hadn't wanted to admit it.
She'd insinuated that he was treating her like a slave. Preposterous! Now that he was well away from her and her delirious scent, he could muster up the proper amount of anger at the accusation. If he was treating her as a slave, would she have such luxurious accommodations? Or almost free rein of the ship? All the food she could eat? Sebastian seethed. He craved her comfort, is all. Again this morning she had looked as though she had only slept a few hours through the night.
The couch was old and overused. The cushions no longer plush. He hadn't given much thought to the thing at the time the room had been prepared for her. His main concern had been finding a comfortable enough bed. He had become furious when he saw that she was again refusing to use it.
Then the chit had stood, revealing herself to him, and his brain had gone dead. Her sleeping garment was a deep maroon tight piece of fabric that cut off at her upper thigh and gripped her breasts the way that he wanted to. For a moment, he'd forgotten why he was there in the first place. Something about a bed? Yes, that was the perfect thing for a moment like this. Her lightly tussled blond hair spilled over her shoulders and framed her face in such a way as to make him imagine what she might look like after being thoroughly sated.
Her weight had sunk into the cushion, proving their inequity. She'd been attempting to raise her height to his, coming up short, and her stern face almost made him laugh from the sheer kitten-like fierceness.
Then she spoke, and it took a while before her words penetrated his thickly aroused skull. She was unhappy with his orders and had put her outrage into her tone. Her glare was fierce, with her iridescent blue eyes flashing to silver and back, and it made him want her all the more. His mouth watered, and his shaft strained against his pants.