Adrik (Titans #1)

Chapter 12

Ember didn’t know what was happening. She felt odd. The behemoth carrying her was stirring up strange emotions. She wanted to hate him, but so far, other than shooting her with a tranquilizer—for what he claimed was her own safety—he was being oddly gracious. Worse, being in skin-to-skin contact with him was making her stomach feel all fluttery. She needed something to focus on other than how she was feeling.

“So, what do I call you? Just Chief Commander?” She felt him huff a humorless sound.

He didn’t look down at her as he spoke. “I am Adrik of Cesca Sol. I am Commander of the Cressida, son of Brenson and Iona, and the lone Shadow Titan.”

Ember processed what he said. She was going to introduce herself but remembered that he’d called her by her name just before he’d shot her. Still, formal introductions would be proper.

“I am Ember of Earth, home of…” she shrugged, “humans and other creatures. I was a corrections officer. My parents were Richard and Eve. I am…” She stalled, considering what to say next. Adrik had called himself the lone Shadow Titan, and unsure what that meant, Ember offered lamely, “My father was white, and my mother was black.”

Adrik slowed to a halt and frowned down at her. “Your parents were of different species?”

Ember shook her head. “No. They were both human, just different races.”

When Adrik continued to frown at her, she explained, “Colors. My parents were different colors. My father was pale like…” she stalled a moment, trying to think of something to compare him to. “Like my sisters. My mother was dark like…,” again she stalled and picked the closest example she had. “She was dark like you.”

Adrik’s eyes went hard and had Ember wondering if she’d made some form of transgression. She swallowed hard under Adrik’s scrutiny.

When next Adrik spoke, his voice was hard; his tone held just the merest hint of scoff, almost like he didn’t believe her. “Your mother was a Shadow Human?”

Shaking her head again, Ember admitted. “I don’t know what that means. She was a regular human just of African descent. Africa is a continent. It’s where my people originated.”

“But she was dark?” Adrik asked.

“Well, yes.” It was strange having someone… something asking about her race. Adrik himself was much darker than the other Titans she’d seen on the ship. Ember couldn’t help but wonder if he felt some sort of camaraderie with her because they were both darker than their peers. All thoughts of their skin color and Adrik’s interpretations fled when Adrik started walking again, carrying her inside the separate medical room that housed Kyan.

Eyes on her friend, Ember whispered, “Ky?”

Kyan didn’t wake. She didn’t even move.

Fear clogged Ember’s throat as she struggled in Adrik’s hold. As if sensing what she wanted, he carried her to the bedside and gently set Ember on her feet but kept his hands on her hips to help steady her.

“Kyan?” Ember tried again and when she reached out a hand to brush the hair back from Kyan’s face, Obaida caught her wrist.

Head snapping up, a frown claimed Ember’s features as she opened her mouth to protest. Adrik beat her to it.

“Do not touch her, Obaida. I won’t tell you again.”

Instantly, Obaida released her hand, his gaze going from her to Adrik. “Apologies, Commander.” His expression morphed into one of confusion. “I’m having difficulties I cannot process.”

Simultaneously, Adrik and Ember asked, “What kind of difficulties?”

Pausing a moment, Obaida reluctantly admitted. “Strong emotions. Anger. Defensive. A compelling urge to protect. I…” he stammered. “When it comes to Kyan, I am overly protective. I assume because she is so vulnerable. I don’t want anyone else touching her.” Silence reigned a moment before he suggested, “Perhaps it is because she is the first critical patient I’ve treated in many cycles.”

Ignoring the knowing look that Adrik and Obaida exchanged, Ember snatched up Kyan’s hand. “Critical? How critical? Can you save her?”

“I will save her,” Obaida vowed, but Adrik was quick to admonish.

“Obaida!”

The look that crossed Obaida’s face, though, was one of absolute resolve. It had some of the fear Ember was feeling slowly ebbing.

“I’m going to heal her, Adrik. No matter how long it takes. No matter what I have to do.”

“Brother…”

Ember was shocked by how tender Adrik’s tone suddenly became.

“Don’t set yourself up for disappointment,” Adrik directed quietly. “If she…”

Instantly, Obaida cut him off. “She won’t!”

Silently, Ember prayed Obaida was right, and to aid him, she offered as much information as she could. “She refused to eat. We had to force her, but even then, it wasn’t enough.” Taking a shaky step closer to Kyan, Ember smoothed a hand over the fall of blond hair that framed Kyan’s pale face. Once Ember supported herself with one hand on the bed, Adrik released her and went to the head of the bed.

“She lost her will to go on,” Ember explained. “She couldn’t stand being held captive. She was so damn afraid all the time. She longed to feel safe. To be safe!” Sucking back stinging tears, Ember looked up to find Obaida and Adrik watching her, Obaida with a look of concern and Adrik with one of anger.

“What did they do to you?” Adrik demanded.

Ember flinched, a knee-jerk reaction to the rage roiling off Adrik. At her reaction, his expression softened as did his tone.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Annoyed with her own reaction, Ember’s brows speared down. “They ran tests on us. Lots of tests.”

“What kind of tests?” Obaida asked.

Ember shot him a look but didn’t say anything. Her look said it all.

Turning to lift a hand to Kyan’s cheek, Obaida spoke softly. “Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything that might help me heal her?” The whole time he spoke, his eyes were on Kyan. “My scans show no drugs in her system, no physical injuries other than the malnutrition and dehydration but she shouldn’t be this ill.”

“It’s her spirit,” Ember answered. “I don’t know how to make her want to be here anymore.” She looked from Kyan to Obaida. “Got anything in your med bay for that?”

It was Adrik who responded. “You’re no longer prisoners. That should help.”

Angling her face toward him, Ember asked, “Aren’t we?”

When Adrik held her gaze and didn’t respond, Ember pressed more firmly, “If we aren’t your prisoners does that mean you’ll take us home, back to Earth?” Her tone was mocking.

Adrik’s dark gaze slid from her to Obaida.

Motherfucker! Lifting her chin, Ember clipped out, “That’s what I thought.”

“We don’t travel to Earth,” Adrik gritted out.

Ember countered, “Then find someone who does!”

“Please discuss this elsewhere,” Obaida whisper-yelled. “Kyan needs her rest.”

Moved by the medic’s clear concern for Kyan, Ember shot Adrik a dark look and tried to step back from the med bed. The second she moved, a pain-filled gasp left her despite her efforts to stifle it. She started to crumple, but Adrik had her up in his arms in a flash.

Brows furrowed, Adrik looked at Obaida. “Should she still be suffering pain from the injection site?”

“They are different from other species we’ve had to put out,” Obaida explained, frowning at Ember’s leg. “They’re…softer.”

“I’m aware,” Adrik replied gruffly, his fingers squeezing and then just as quickly releasing Ember’s thigh just above her knee and her back where he held her.

“It’ll take longer for the effects of the tranquilizer to wear off,” Obaida explained dismissively, his attention going back to Kyan.

“It wasn’t the tranquilizer,” Ember cut in angrily, glaring up at Adrik. “It was being shot with the gun.”

Through clenched teeth, he argued, “I wouldn’t have had to shoot you, if you would have complied.”

Sitting up straighter in his arms, Ember angled her face toward his and leaned in until their noses were inches from touching as she seethed, “I might have complied if I knew what you were saying.”

Accepting her clear challenge, Adrik leaned in too, their lips just a breath apart, their noses brushing. “That issue was remedied by tranquilizing you and implanting translators.”

Glaring at each other, neither was willing to back down an inch.

“Please!” Obaida begged, breaking their challenge. “Argue elsewhere.”

Ember tore her gaze away from Adrik. Feeling guilty, she huffed a quiet sound and fell silent, reclining back in his arms.

With one final, “Keep me posted on Kyan’s status.” Adrik carried Ember from the med bay.