Gravity (Dark Anomaly Book 1)

by Marina Simcoe

  Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, sorrow threating to suffocate me, I did what he said. Except that I also secretly added the coordinates of the starting location. Now, if the suit were found, they would know where it came from. Someone would match its serial number to my mission and, hopefully, figure out I was trapped here.

  “Come.” Vrateus dragged me out of the room after I was done.

  A group of errocks waited for us in the corridor, along with a few members of other species who were awake. Anything out of the ordinary passed for entertainment around here. Apparently, watching the recapture of the only female on the Dark Anomaly after her failed escape attempt was worth staying up for.

  “Watch.” Vrateus pushed me against the door, the glass insert positioned right in front of my face.

  The thrusters went off the moment the outside door opened. The empty suit launched toward the dancing lights beyond.

  Without me.

  It grew smaller and smaller the farther it went—a dark, humanoid silhouette against the vivid light show.

  My chest hurt watching it go, taking my last hope with it.

  Before going completely out of sight, the suit jerked suddenly, sharply changing its trajectory. Swirling off course, it headed back to us, moving exponentially faster than when it had departed.

  That was not in the program I had inputted.

  With a strangled noise of shock, I watched it propel through the distance between us. My hands splayed on the door, I sensed the faint vibration of its impact against the outer hull.

  “See this?” Vrateus yanked me from the window to the screen by the door. Punching into it, he brought up images of the outer edge of the metal body of the Anomaly that must have come from cameras they had installed outside.

  My spacesuit—made using the latest experimental technology, tested in the bottomless ocean of Olphi, proven to withstand the unimaginable—was smashed against the wreckage of a ship. Its arms and legs bent, its torso twisted in a way that allowed for zero doubt, I would have had no chance of survival had I remained inside. The entire thing squished and dented by the unbeatable gravity of the Dark Anomaly.

  I stared unblinking at what would have been my death had Vrateus not dragged me out of the suit just minutes earlier.

  And I could not accept that all hope was now truly gone.

  “My body weight would have made a difference, were I inside,” I kept arguing in my head, knowing that it would not, at least not enough to change the outcome. I might have crashed at a slightly different spot, but I still would have crashed.

  And died.

  My hands trembled, the shakes spreading to the rest of me, as the realization of what this crash really meant descended on me.

  I was truly, completely, inescapably trapped on the Dark Anomaly.

  For the rest of my life.

  Chapter 14

  IN SHOCK AND OVERWHELMED by despair, I was only half-aware of Vrateus dragging me through the corridors of the Anomaly, back to my room.

  A group of aliens had gathered in front of it, watching as we approached. They gawked at me and made jokes, mocking my failed escape attempt.

  His expression grave, Vrateus hit the panel, opening my door. When he shoved me in, I sensed his hands shake.

  “Wine, Captain?” One of his males offered a metal canteen to him.

  Vrateus grabbed it from him. Keeping his eyes on me, he took a huge swig from the canteen.

  I staggered into the room. The lights of the Anomaly no longer seemed beautiful or mesmerizing. They were mocking me, destined to spend the rest of my life in this inescapable glass prison. I felt like a moth trapped inside a lantern, only with the light being outside of the glass—teasing, enticing, and deadly.

  The slam of Vrateus’s hand against the door panel was followed by the swishing sound of the doors closing. I idly wondered if he had discovered that I had disabled the locks. The doors might be closed, but they weren’t locked unless he’d fixed the panel, which I didn’t think he had.

  Suddenly, he grabbed me by my neck, swinging me to the wall and pressing my back against it.

  He leaned into me, his face coming close to mine, feral rage distorting his hard features. The orange eyes aglow, his lips stained blood-red by the wine, any shred of his usual composure was blown away. I wondered in an oddly detached way if he would kill me right then and there.

  “You could’ve died,” he gritted through his teeth. A flash of unguarded vulnerability flickered through his eyes.

  Fear.

  For me?

  “You would have been dead if I didn’t stop you,” he kept saying as if struggling to comprehend that fact.

  “You would’ve died, too, had I pushed that button,” I bit out.

  “Why didn’t you?” The fury in his stare settled down as something deeper and darker moved in.

  “I couldn’t...” I drew in a shuddered breath. The adrenaline receded, leaving nothing but deep sorrow behind. “Then we both would have been dead,” I said softly. “Not sure about you, but for me... For me, it might have been for the best.”

  His thick eyebrows drew together, intensity sharpening his gaze.

  “You’ve chosen to live,” he reminded me.

  I swallowed against his hand on my throat, his hold firm but not oppressive.

  “Because I had hope, Vrateus. Hope to get out of here, eventually. There is no point, now. What kind of life do I have ahead of me? Being locked up in this room? Used as your sex toy?”

  “My toy?” he sounded confused. “From what I know about sex toys, they’re used solely for one’s sexual satisfaction.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s not what you are to me.” His eyes flickered between mine, something warm and intense brewing behind them. “Svetlana, do you dislike me touching you so much that you would rather risk dying than continue with it?” he asked suddenly.

  I wished I could lie about that, but his touch was the one thing I enjoyed. As much as I detested being brought into the mess hall on those nights, I started looking forward to the moment when his hands connected with my skin.

  Even thinking about it now sent a ripple of pleasure through my chest. Its warmth melted the sorrow away.

  “It’s not your touching that I dislike, Vrateus...”

  How could he not understand that I found being paraded naked in front of hundreds of slobbering, masturbating men degrading?

  But then I believed I knew how. Having grown up in the savage environment of the Dark Anomaly, Vrateus simply wouldn’t know all the moral implications of some actions.

  Only now, after having been immersed in life on the Anomaly for some time, could I see it from his perspective: I was not physically hurt, and his crew was satisfied. As far as he was concerned, he kept me alive and safe by doing what he had to.

  He wouldn’t know why I resented it because I had never really explained the reasons. I had mistakenly assumed he would have the same understanding of morals and values I had. It could never be the same, though, as his background was so different from mine.

  Obviously, he believed he had saved me and had been protecting me ever since.

  “I like it when you touch me,” I confessed.

  What did it matter now if he knew the truth?

  Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

  “Like?” My words seemed to send a charge through his body.

  I sensed his shudder as he pressed himself closer to me. Another wave of warmth rushed over me, sending tingles over my skin. Needing more of the rush, I pressed my hands to the hard planes of his chest.

  “You, Vrateus, turned out to be the most unexpected surprise of the Anomaly, for me,” I said softly.

  His eyes flashed with heat. His arms shook with strain as he struggled to keep whatever distance still remained between us.

  “I don’t understand this...what I feel for you, Svetlana” he groaned. “Why are you in my thoughts? Constantly. When you’re not around, I need to see you. And w
hen you’re near me, I feel like touching you.” He slid his gaze to my lips, his thumb stroking my neck. “It’s never enough. No matter how close I get, I wish to be closer.” His heart thundered wildly against my chest. Sliding his hand up my neck, he cupped my jaw, brushing his thumb along my bottom lip. “And when I touch you, I want to taste you,” he whispered, bringing his mouth closer, so close, his breath warmed my face.

  I drew in brief, shallow breaths. My body heated under his stare. The fear and despair moved away. Desire flooded me. It was so much better than misery.

  I focused on the awareness of his hand on my face, his large warm body pressed to mine. My future was dark but distant. This very moment was different—Vrateus was here. The heated gaze of his orange eyes set me on fire.

  “Go ahead, then.” I slid my hand to the back of his neck. “Taste me...”

  Determination flared in his eyes. He wrapped one arm around me, moving the other to the back of my head.

  Instead of the brutal kiss I had expected, the brush of his lips on mine was barely there. Truly only a taste, not a kiss. Forever in control, he tentatively slid the tip of his tongue along my lip then peppered my skin with tiny nibbles along my jaw line.

  It hit me that Vrateus had never kissed anyone before, never even had the chance. What he was doing to me right now was all him, unskilled but raw and real.

  His tenderness melted my heart.

  “Vrateus,” I whispered.

  Taking his face between my hands, I peered deep into his eyes. His pupils, usually in the shape of narrow vertical slits, now widened and rounded, nearly replacing the burnt orange of his irises.

  He breathed hard. His lips parted.

  “Come here.” I took his bottom lip between both of mine, swallowing his sharp exhale.

  He tasted of berry wine—tart and heady—with a hint of something fruity and of his very own spice.

  He tasted like the only pleasant thing left for me in this life, and I drank him in, never wanting to stop.

  I slid my tongue deeper, feeling the muscles in his neck stiffen for a moment. How would a man who had never been kissed react to the tongue of a woman exploring his mouth?

  Was he shocked?

  Disgusted?

  Definitely not the latter, I realized with relief, as he groaned softly then met my tongue with his. He moved one of his hands to my breast, palming my backside with the other. There was confidence in his touch as he kneaded my breast through the material of my suit.

  He knew exactly how to touch me.

  But there was also some frantic urgency, as if he wanted to caress every part of me he’d never had the chance to lay his hands on before. As if he wished to touch everything, now that it was just he and I, with no one else watching.

  The hard ridge of his erection pressed against my hip. Fisting my hand in the fur on the back of his neck, I snaked the other through the opening of his shirt, my fingers skimming the dagger sheath strapped to his chest.

  His skin felt flushed, feverishly hot. The fruity taste of wine on my tongue nagged at my memory, distracting me from the kiss.

  I pulled back a little, tearing my lips from his.

  “Svetlana...” he panted, reaching after me.

  His warm breath fanned across my face. I recognized the fragrance of the soap I used every day.

  Fuhnid mushrooms...

  “Vrateus?” I grabbed his face between my hands.

  His pupils were fully dilated, his eyes glistened dark and wild. From lust?

  Or from the poison?

  “Do you normally add fuhnid mushrooms to the berry wine?”

  “What?” He blinked, unfocused. His body still intertwined with mine, he wouldn’t let go of me. “No. Mushrooms are poison.”

  He ducked his head down again, reaching for another kiss, but I shoved my hands against his shoulders.

  My mind flashed back to the flask of wine the male outside the door had offered to him. Too upset by my escape attempt, Vrateus hadn’t questioned the offering.

  He had drunk it.

  The one time he had his guard down, his worst suspicions came true.

  He’d been poisoned.

  Dread prickled with icy needles down my spine.

  “Vrateus. The wine you drank was laced with fuhnid juice.”

  His features settled into a frown, focus returning to his gaze. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “I can smell it.”

  He raised his hand to his lips.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, cautiously.

  “Lightheaded.” He touched his temple. “My mind is...hazy. But it always is when you’re nearby.” He gazed at me. “It’s hard to focus when you’re this close.”

  “Where do you keep the antidote?” My hands on each side of his face, I directed his attention to my question.

  “There is no antidote.”

  His words exploded through my brain, freezing my insides with fear. I might have been willing to kill him with my own hands a short while ago, but I was not ready for him to die.

  Swaying on his feet, he pressed both hands into the glass above my shoulders.

  “What happens next?” I asked, my voice shaking. “How long do we have?”

  “Next? Dizziness. Muscle weakness. Lethargy...” He closed his eyes for a moment, obviously struggling to collect his thoughts. “By morning, I’ll be dead.”

  “No, you won’t,” I said stubbornly, having no good reason to make this statement other than the denial of the obvious.

  “Svetlana...” He shook his head, as if attempting to shake off whatever fog was clouding his awareness.

  The gesture cost him his balance. He staggered to the side, then slid down the wall to the floor.

  “Careful.” I grabbed him under his arm, steadying him. “Stay sitting, don’t lie down. I’ll be right back.”

  I ran to the bathroom, filling the crystal tumbler left from my dinner with water from the tap.

  Back in the room, I shoved the glass to Vrateus. “Drink it. The whole thing.”

  He obeyed, emptying it in a few big gulps.

  “Now come to the bathroom with me.” Both hands under his arms, I tried to pull him up, but he proved to be too large and heavy for me to manhandle. “Help me, please. Can you try to get up?”

  With a groan through his clenched teeth, he heaved himself up, letting me lead him to the bathroom. I held him around his waist as he lowered himself in front of the toilet.

  “Drink this too.” I gave him another cupful of water. “Then try to make yourself vomit.”

  “Vomit?”

  “You need to get whatever is left of the poison out of your stomach.”

  Kneeling by the toilet, he propped his hands on his thighs. “Leave,” he growled, glancing from under his eyebrows at me.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Fine. Just do it, please. And quickly.” I exited the bathroom but didn’t close the door behind me, afraid to leave him completely on his own.

  Pacing the glass floor, I nervously clenched and unclenched my fists, thinking through everything I knew about poisoning.

  “There is no antidote.”

  Recalling his words paralyzed me with fear, bringing my thought process to a halt.

  He couldn’t die.

  I couldn’t let him die.

  He had said he wanted me to live. Well, I wanted him to live, too.

  Besides, what would happen to me here, without him? I needed him alive.

  Rinse out his stomach. I started to build a list in my mind. Find charcoal. If they don’t have anything like it here, find some hardwood to burn to make some...

  That would take way too much time!

  I groaned in frustration.

  “I’ll be dead by morning.”

  Time was something we didn’t have.

  There must be something that would neutralize the poison of the mushrooms. If only I knew exactly what type of poison it was. I had no time to do any tests to determine that, either
.

  Why would Vrateus allow this stuff to be grown here? Without searching for the antidote? He was always so cautious, so smart about everything.

  I was angry at him now, which was nothing new. What was unusual was that I felt also terrified for him.

  I couldn’t let him die.

  As soon as I heard Vrateus finish in the bathroom, I rushed back to him.

  Resting his forehead on his hand, he crouched on the floor.

  “Come.” I helped him to get up again. I wanted him to move, afraid that if I left him alone, he’d fall asleep...and not wake up again.

  Back in the room, however, he sank to the floor again.

  “Tell me what I can do.” Grabbing him by the shoulders, I gave him a firm shake as his head started to drop. “Is there anything in the medical kit that would help? Do you even have a medical kit somewhere? How about some charcoal pills? Activated charcoal? Is there anything like that around here?”

  With another shake from me, he lifted his head. His gaze focused on me after a moment.

  “Svetlana...” he drew out my name, a delirious smile tugging at his lips. “You drive me mad, you know that? And for some reason I love it.”

  “Vrateus, where can I get help?” I asked firmly, giving him one last chance to point me in the right direction. Time was running out. I needed to do something. With or without his instructions.

  “Help?” He blinked, then tightly shut his eyes before opening them again. “When I die, you must go to Malahki,” he said quickly, as if rushing it out before his mind plunged into a toxic fog. “Malahki is the only one around here who is not interested in either eating or fucking you.” He lifted his hand to my face. “Svetlana...I need you to be safe. When I’m no longer here to protect you—”

  “Malahki!” I jumped to my feet, filled with sudden hope.

  The genderless alien was the one cultivating the damn mushrooms. If there was anyone who knew what to do, it would be the damirian.

  “Give me a weapon.” I knelt in front of Vrateus again.

  “To defend yourself,” he said, in a distant voice.

  “Right. I need something to defend myself if I’m attacked out there.”

  He shifted, shaking his head. “You can’t go out there. Not on your own.”