AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bahr knocks the lochaber aside and tries to rush forward but Jkaran squeezes me tighter, and I yelp without meaning too. Bahr stops, his chest heaving and his tail sticking up over his head. He doesn’t act for fear of hurting me.
“No, Bahr,” Jkaran says.
There are shouts in the hall outside, which I’m sure are guards coming. I have to help, escape somehow. I duck my chin and suck in my chest so that his grip on me loosens. He shifts, trying to tighten his hold and that moves his head over mine.
I throw my head back with all the force I can. The back of my skull slams into his jaw and there’s a horrible sounding clack and snap before the pain blasting through my head blinds me to all other awareness.
Dimly I know that I fall to the ground, and I crawl hoping it’s in a direction away from Jkaran. My vision is blurry and the pain in my head is so intense I’m nauseous. I think I gave myself a concussion.
Hands grab my arms and jerk, pulling me across the room. I open my mouth to yell but the nausea is too strong so I shut it to keep from losing the last meal I ate. I struggle to break free of the grip because it’s all I can do.
“Belle, it’s me,” Asia says so I stop fighting.
She helps me to my feet and I grab my head, trying to keep it from exploding. Everything is so loud. Men grunting, flesh hitting flesh, shouts that echo off stone. I’m dizzy, the room spinning around fast, and my stomach lurches. I lean onto Asia who gives me her support while I fight my way through this.
“Mine!” Bahr screams so loud his voice cracks in my ears and then there’s the sound of something smashing.
Bahr has Jkaran’s head against the wall. He lets go and Jkaran slides to the floor as Bahr turns to Asia and I. Everything about him is primal. His open wings, the way his chest heaves, the musk of his scent. The fire that burns in his eyes and I’m ready to throw myself into his arms. Shouts in the hall are closer and Bahr shakes himself.
“Follow,” he orders and without waiting he heads for the door.
“You okay?” Asia asks as Charlie appears on my other side.
“No choice,” I pant as the three of us follow Bahr.
He looks both ways but the sounds are coming from the left so he leads us right. He moves fast but with certainty. The hall is long and mostly plain, lit by some kind of recessed lighting. There are only a couple of doors that are closed tight. We reach the end of the hall and where there once was a door are now remnants of one hanging from broken hinges.
Bahr leads us in without hesitation. When we enter this room, I stumble to a stop in horror.
4
BELLE
The bodies of four Zmaj are scattered around the room. They lie where they fell, in lifeless heaps. The center of the room is dominated by a large slab that looks like an operating table. Broken leather straps hang loose and there are instruments and tools scattered everywhere.
Bahr moves quickly around the room, barely sparing a glance for the table. A pattering sound pulls at my attention. It’s like a leaky faucet that won’t stop. Drip, drip, drip, drip. I look for the source and it takes me more than a moment to figure it out. Blood drips from the table.
Revulsion makes my stomach lurch and I turn my attention away from it. My eyes land on Bahr and I see the cuts on him and instantly know where that blood came from. It’s his. They were doing some kind of experiments or torture on him.
“Look at this,” Charlie says.
She’s looking at a table with equipment on it. The machines have crystals arranged similar to a keyboard, which is weird, but there’s a screen with images and what I assume is the Zmaj language written on it. I look but none of what I’m seeing makes sense.
“What is it?” I ask.
Charlie was a scientist on the ship doing research. On what I never bothered to ask since it wasn’t going to do us any good anyway. That and our lives have been too busy working to survive for small talk.
“It’s DNA,” she says, studying the screen and looking around at the equipment.
She makes a tsk sound and shakes her head as she frowns. I leave her to try and puzzle that out, more interested in what Bahr is doing and how we’re going to keep our recently gained freedom. I walk to him as he pushes and tests on every open section of wall.
“Bahr?” I ask. He glances but doesn’t stop testing the walls. “Are you okay?”
Now having a spare moment to breathe, I notice the wounds he’s taken are obvious. Crimson rivulets trail over his scales from dozens of small punctures. Whatever they were doing to him was evil. He grunts, pushes on the wall, then pounds it with his fist. It sounds hollow and he steps back, staring at it.
“I am fine,” he says, not taking his eyes off the wall. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I say. “I hurt myself more than he did.”
