Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I drift in and out. I'm in a med-station for a time, the glass dome whirling with lights while needles dance over my arm. The tech notices I'm awake and pumps me full of more medication. When I finally rouse, I'm in my room again. I sit up on the bed, a foul, medicinal taste in my mouth.
My chamber has been cleaned while I was out. There are new scents all over the bed and the thin blanket. There are new scents on the walls and the floor. The sink has been replaced, with new scents on that, too. I move around in my quarters, picking through the scents, but hers is gone.
Mina.
I want her back.
I crouch in place, pondering what to destroy. Mina doesn't like it when I destroy things and…for some reason, it is important to me that she be happy with me. She says I make more work for her, so I opt to skip eating instead. They want my rage. They want my cooperation. So I move back to my bed, turn my back to the windows, and sleep.
A bowl of something spicy is put into the meal slot. I ignore it, and when a second one is added a short time later and also ignored, the scientist comes to my cell. He stares at me through the glass for a long time, not speaking. I wouldn't know that he was there, except I can smell his fear and frustration as he gazes on me.
"Crulden," he finally says. "Is your appetite off?"
I ignore him.
He leaves, and a short time later, another med-bot enters and shoves a needle in my arm. Immediately, hunger roars through my system. An appetite stimulant. I clench my teeth and ignore it, because in the end, they want me fed and cooperating. They need me more than I need them.
Hours pass.
I smell the scientist—and the lord—before they speak up. "Crulden." The lord speaks over the intercom in my chamber, his aristocratic voice clipped and displeased. "You are not eating. If you are unwell, speak up."
I turn and sit up in bed. Glare at both of them.
And I wait.
"You need to eat," the lord says, leaning over the intercom to chide me. So safe in the hall, in his gray, flowing robes and the long hair that wouldn't last a moment in an arena battle. I envision grabbing him by that long hair and twisting his head off. Just…right off. Snap. Toss.
I crack my knuckles.
They exchange looks.
"I told you what I wanted for my cooperation," I say flatly. "And you lied to me. So why should I do anything you want?"
The scientist buzzes in this time. "If you don't eat, we'll be forced to implant a nutrient dispenser."
I shrug. "You think that'll get me to fight for you?" I give them my ugliest smile and keep my tone calm. "Your pain sticks won't motivate me. Your food doesn't motivate me. If you send anyone else into this cell to clean it, I'll kill them. If you send in more guards, I'll kill them, too. Nothing you do or say is going to make me want to be your pet gladiator…but if you give me the female, I'll play along. I'll be your obedient little fighter. But you know what I want."
They exchange another look. The scientist frowns, but the lord looks thoughtful, and I know I'm going to win this particular fight. The lord leans in, his finger on the intercom. "How do we know you don't plan on killing her? Human slaves are valuable."
Kill her? Why do they think I'd harm Mina? Why does Mina think that? I wish I had my memories, but they're all still a blank. Maybe they'll come back with time, but until then, I'll just have to cope. I'm not asking these fools for more information. "I want her alive. She's not a very good companion if she's dead."
The lord turns to the scientist, and I know I've won. The scientist frowns, though, and hits the intercom. "We'll speak of this and get back to you. As a show of good faith, eat your food."
I don't. I don't have to show them anything.
11
MINA
I wake up on a cot in the med-bay, my thoughts disoriented. I blink and look around, waiting for the dizzying feeling to go away. When it does, I sit up and touch my throat. A collar is there, slim and cold against my skin. The memory of Crulden tearing the old collar off my throat is vivid. No, he didn't even tear. He just reached over and snapped it as if it was nothing. As if it insulted him with its presence.
I didn't even know that sort of thing could happen.
Experimentally, I give the collar a hard tug. A painful jolt shoots up my arm and I let go, shaking my hand. Not only is Crulden a lot stronger than me, but he doesn't seem to care about the voltage.