James Axler – Starfall

This, she told herself, was neither. She forced herself calm, peering beyond the veil of emotions Phlorin created inside her subconscious.

Elric towered before her, his hand slashing out, filled with sharp claws.

Instinctively Krysty lifted her arm to defend herself. Burning pain filled her arm as Elric’s nails sliced through her arm. She didn’t look, using the pain as her focus. When Elric struck again, she didn’t move at all.

The tall man’s hand slashed through her without touch­ing her. Angry, Elric stepped back, his lips twisted in a rictus as he hissed his displeasure.

Krysty closed her eyes, regulating her breathing, reach­ing inside herself to slow down her racing heart. Then she stepped out of the dream into wakefulness.

KRYSTY SAT UP in the cool, clean darkness of the night. She pulled off the covers and found out she’d started to get drenched with sweat underneath. She shivered, still feeling the hypnotic pull of the dream.

Next time, Phlorin called from within her, it will get harder and harder to resist me.

Ignoring the old woman’s threat, Krysty pushed up from the ground, drawing Ryan’s attention at once. She couldn’t see him where he sat outside the perimeter of the campfires, but she knew he was there on watch. She sensed his atten­tion on her at once, and his concern.

She knew J.B. had been scheduled for watch first, so she knew she’d gotten some sleep. Glancing around, she saw the companions and the others scattered across the ground, wrapped up in the blankets brought from the boat. No one stirred.

Gathering her own blanket, she crept through the camp­site toward Ryan. Her movement didn’t go completely un­detected. With the enhanced perception that came as a re­sult of the dream, she sensed that Jak, J.B. and Dean woke briefly and recognized her. With all the awareness, she felt like she had no privacy. Her mind was constantly buzzing.

“You should be sleeping,” Ryan told her when she found him leaning against a tree just back of the campsite. He had the Steyr cradled in his arms.

“Couldn’t, lover.” Krysty stretched out and wrapped her arms around him. “Sleeping tonight might be the death of me.”

“The old woman?”

“Yes.” Krysty pulled him close, trying to get as much of her flesh in contact with his as she could.

“Won’t be much longer.”

One way or the other, Krysty couldn’t help thinking. But she pulled back and looked up into Ryan’s face. “I know.” She slipped a hand inside his shirt, brushing her palm against the hard planes of his flat stomach and broad chest, drawing in his warmth. She’d always loved the feel of him, the unyielding presence he exuded.

“We’ll be moving early in the morning,” Ryan told her. “Sooner we shake the dust from us here, better off we’ll be. Not going to leave much time for sleeping.”

“I’ll sleep on the boat if I’m able.” Krysty put her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, slow and rhyth­mic. “Mebbe sleeping in the light will be easier.”

His free hand came up behind her, threading his fingers through her sentient hair. Her hair coiled around his fingers in return, pulling him tight. Then she realized that his hand hadn’t been placed there out of any tenderness. She sensed the withdrawal in her lover, a cold spot just beyond her reach.

It hurt her, feeling it and knowing it was there. He doesn’t trust you, Phlorin taunted in the back of her mind.

Ryan doesn’t trust you, Krysty said. She held on to her lover harder. You should know. He chilled you once.

You, me. It’s the same difference now, Krysty.

It’s not going to stay that way.

You can’t be sure of that. How do you know that I won’t take over your arm at some point, have you pull out your blaster and blow a hole in this man?

Krysty shivered at the thought. She hadn’t even consid­ered that. But Ryan had. That was why his fingers were tangled in her hair. Because Ryan won’t let you.

And he’d chill you before he let himself be chilled?

Yes. And the truth of her answer gave Krysty strength. Ryan was a survivor. He wouldn’t let even her take his life without a fight, and he wouldn’t be diminished. He’d still be every inch the fighting warrior she’d fallen in love with. The joy she felt burned her eyes, turned to tears that dripped across her cheeks. You can’t kill him. No one can.