Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
A deep, calm voice interrupted the silence.
“Oh, are you awake? How do you feel?”
Noelle’s eyes fluttered open.
The ceiling above her glowed with a diffuse, ambient light—like moonlight caught in frosted glass. She turned her head—slowly, painfully—and saw a tall Kindred male standing beside the bed. He had pale blond hair and the clearest ice-blue eyes she’d ever seen. He wore a white medical coat over a high-collared blue uniform shirt and his expression was kind but clinical.
“Who…who’re you?” she croaked, throat dry and sore.
“You can touch yourself,” the man said gently, misinterpreting her panic. “The non-contact collar has been removed.”
“Has it?” Her voice was stronger now, tinged with disbelief.
With trembling fingers, she reached up and scratched her nose—tentatively at first—then with growing confidence. No electric jolt. No pain. No resistance.
She touched her throat next. The familiar, hated silver filigree was gone. Her fingers met nothing but warm skin and a pulse that beat beneath it, strong and free.
Tears stung her eyes.
“Thank you!” she whispered, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. “Dios, thank you so much.”
The Kindred male gave her a soft smile.
“Who are you?” she asked again, lowering her hand.
“I’m Sylvan,” he said, inclining his head. “One of the doctors here on the Mother Ship.”
The Mother Ship.
The words washed over her like balm. They’d made it. They were really here.
Home, she thought. We made it home.
“You were brought in completely drugged—as were your two companions, Shines Brightly and Burns Hot,” Sylvan told her.
Noelle’s heart gave a painful thud of worry.
“Oh—are they all right?” she asked quickly, trying to push herself up, only for her arms to tremble under the effort.
“Yes, they’re just sleeping off whatever cocktail the three of you all took,” Sylvan assured her, gently pressing a hand to her shoulder to keep her from rising too fast. “They’re in the beds next door. You’re all safe now.”
Safe, she thought again, relief washing through her so powerfully she could have wept. Really safe.
She exhaled shakily and let herself relax into the mattress again, the drowsiness tugging at her.
“Pink drink,” she murmured, her voice fading. “It was…the pink drink the Trollox gave us.”
“That sounds like quite a story,” Sylvan said, reaching for a nearby console to make a note.
He said something else—his voice calm and steady—but Noelle didn’t catch it.
The bed was too warm…too soft and her limbs too heavy. The knowledge that Burn and Bright were alive and here in the room beside her was enough to let her surrender.
The last thing she saw before sleep claimed her again was the soft shimmer of stars outside the window, winking against the black velvet of space.
She was home.
72
NOELLE
The first thing Noelle noticed the next time she woke was the light.
Soft and golden, it slanted in through a nearby viewport, bathing the small medical room in a warm morning glow. It must be daytime—real daytime—not that endless cycle of fluorescent nightmare lighting from Thune’s lair. This was gentle and natural—warm enough to make her feel like she might actually be alive again.
The second thing she noticed was the figure sitting at her bedside—Bright.
The Light Twin’s broad shoulders were hunched slightly, his long arms draped over his thighs, hands clasped loosely between them. He looked like he hadn’t slept, though his sandy brown hair was brushed and neat. The shadows beneath his eyes made his tanned skin look a shade paler than usual, and his mouth was tight with worry as he gazed down at her.
The moment she looked at him, his expression changed.
He leaned forward eagerly, a spark of desperate hope lighting his face.
“Hi, sweetheart—how do you feel?”
His voice was soft and tentative—as though he wasn’t sure how she might feel about him.
Noelle opened her mouth to respond, but her tongue felt like it had been rolled in cotton, and the moment she tried to sit up, her temples exploded with pain.
“Oooh,” she moaned, sinking back against the pillows, pressing a hand to her forehead. Her head felt like it had been stuffed with fireworks which had all been set off at once.
“Yeah, that second pink drink he gave us has a mean after-kick,” Bright said, grimacing sympathetically. “Hang on while I get a nurse.”
He rose and strode to the wall panel, pressing a glowing square. Moments later, the door hissed open, and a woman entered the room. She was tall and curvy with dark hair pulled back into a neat braid, dressed in Kindred medical scrubs that shimmered faintly with embedded threads of light.
“Noelle?” she said kindly. “I hear you’ve got a bit of a headache.”
“Ugh…you could say that.” Noelle winced again, eyes squeezing shut.
“I’ve got just the thing,” the nurse said warmly. She came to Noelle’s bedside and swabbed her upper arm with something that smelled clean and sharp—like antiseptic and crushed mint. Then she gave her a gentle injection, barely more than a prick.