Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
When they shut off, I know I’m no longer alone. The silence is deafening, palpable. I thought I couldn’t be more ashamed of the situations I put myself in, but I was wrong. This must be a new low.
I brace myself for their judgement as I hear voices on the other side of the bathroom door. They’ll whisper behind their hands. Give me pitying glances. It won’t be long before my latest stunt winds up on every tabloid from sea to shining sea, but I won’t let them break me. I’ll face them, then my talent manager, and I’ll be Aria Delaney, the A-list actress and party girl they want me to be. And I’ll do it with a smile.
The door opens and I take one last moment to breathe before I finish my ablutions. I locate another paper gown in a cabinet to dress in and pray blood won’t continue to drip down my legs. With sluggish movements, I put the gown on and then step toward the door and turn to face my fate.
Instead of the nurses I’m expecting, I find the men from my nightmares.
All ten of them squeeze into the tiny hospital room and try to wedge themselves in the doorway. Their big, broad shoulders don’t quite fit, and three of them get stuck in the door. It would be comical if it weren’t so terrifying.
I knot my hands together, between my breasts, and blink. Flora isn’t normally hallucinogenic, but sometimes it comes laced with other drugs with varying side effects. That’s all.
“Help,” I croak to anyone but the monsters crowding my way.
They all snap their eyes to mine the moment I speak.
“Step back,” comes a commanding, oddly accented voice. “Let Avrell have room or I’ll throw every rekking one of you out into The Graveyard.”
Rekking?
The Graveyard?
What is this madness?
The three in the doorway move back obediently, but their eyes strain to see me around two more who take a step forward. One of whom is clearly in charge—the one who’d leaned over my bedside when I’d woken up before. There’s no way I’d ever forget his face. Not only because it was so odd, but because he’d looked at me with such contempt.
The other by his side bears no such expression, and I immediately prefer his presence.
“Hello,” the kind one says. “My name is Avrell Dracarion. Do you understand my language?”
“Yes,” I croak. “How?”
One of the other aliens waves at me and smiles, baring not one but two upper fangs on each side of his mouth. Like a double dose of vampire. Twice as many deadly teeth. “The name’s Sayer, linguistics specialist,” he says, his grin growing wider. I’m sure he thinks he’s being friendly but I can’t stop staring at his teeth that look way too sharp for my comfort. “You can understand us because Uvie and I have worked for years on inputting all neighboring planetary languages into the mainframe. Right, Uvie?”
A computerized woman speaks. “Correct. Each mort has been implanted with a specially designed language interpretation unit that allows them to speak and understand languages that have been input into the system. The moment you spoke, it enacted their interpretation units. Their brains work behind the scenes to do all the computing, so that it comes naturally for the morts. Some words, however, won’t translate due to interplanetary slangs that may have formed since the last update to the language mainframe.”
Speaking of brains, mine hurts. I’m dreaming. This is all in my head. But they all stare at me in an expectant way. Vivid and real. They’re not going away.
I lick my lips as I glance back and forth between them. “What’s going on?”
The two before me share a look, then the one called Avrell says, “Please, don’t be frightened.”
“I’m way the hell past frightened.” It was a miracle my knees didn’t simply give out right from under me. “You…I don’t even know what you are. I don’t know what’s happening. I just want to go home, please.”
“We aren’t going to hurt you.” Avrell holds up his hands. Large, pale white hands with bony, oddly protruding knuckles. What’s most frightening though are the half-inch black claws on the tips of each of his fingers. Sharp and brutal. Something that would belong to a wild animal. Claws that look like they could peel my flesh right from my bones. My heart pounds quicker in my chest. “We aren’t going to hurt you,” he repeats and takes a slow step forward. I inch back in response.
The tall one next to Avrell sighs as if annoyed and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Who are all of you? What are you?”
“I am a healer.” He places a hand on the shoulder of the giant next to him. “This is Breccan Aloisius, the chief commander of the facility. This is our planet, Mortuus.”