Alien Sacrifice (Zerconian Warriors Book 9) Page 8

  He glanced over at Koran.

  “I am not taking any chances,” the commander said unapologetically. “Until we know what she is doing here and what she knows, she is a threat to Zerconia and I will treat her as such. For all we know, she could have been sent here to hurt our women.”

  Annabel straightened her shoulders. “I was not sent here to hurt anyone.”

  “No?” Koran queried. “We shall find out.”

  Macon should have been feeling vindicated. His instincts about Annabel had been right. There had been something off about her and now everyone was seeing the real Annabel. Koran and Dex were furious, and rightfully so. He was also angry.

  What he hadn’t expected to feel was sympathy. He’d been watching earlier when Dex told her they weren’t friends. He knew Dex hadn’t noticed the flash of hurt in her eyes, but Macon had and it surprised him. Did she actually care what they thought of her? Or was that part of the act?

  Right now, he couldn’t tell.

  One thing he did know for certain was she was not his mate. The fates would not be so cruel. To not only join him with a human, but a spy, a traitor, someone he could never trust. No, they were not mates.

  Who would send a woman to spy on them? She was tiny. Fragile. Anything could have happened to her. He didn’t like that she’d been placed at risk.

  He also didn’t like that they were being forced to use the truth serum on her.

  “Are you certain you want to do this?” Dex asked Macon. “You can take the chance to question her first.”

  “Him? Why would he question me? And why does it sound like you are asking for his permission?”

  “I believe you are his mate,” Racar told her.

  “We are not mates,” Macon snarled.

  She gave a laugh of disbelief. “Him and me? No way. I’d die of boredom within a week if I was mated to that stick in the mud.”

  Macon gave her a furious look.

  “Whoops, perhaps best not to rile the beast. Damn it, when am I going to learn to keep my big mouth shut.”

  Racar sighed. “One would wish you would learn quickly.”

  “Do it,” Macon snarled. “Give her the serum.” Then he would know for sure. He would never agree to this if she were his mate. But she was not. She couldn’t be.

  “What? What serum?”

  “Has she had the side effects explained to her?” Racar asked.

  “She is refusing to speak,” Koran said. “This is the easiest and most painless way to get the truth. Give her the injection, Racar.”

  Racar hesitated again.

  “Tell her,” Dex gave the order. “She might change her mind and tell us of her own free will.”

  Annabel tensed and pursed her lips. For whatever reason, loyalty or fear, she wasn’t going to tell them on her own.

  “This is a truth serum. You will not be able to stop yourself from answering their questions. You will lose part of your memory. You will not remember most of what you tell them. You will probably wake up in a few hours with a headache and sick stomach.”

  She studied him carefully. “All right. I’ll talk without the serum.”

  “No,” Koran said harshly. He turned to Dex. “She is obviously a good liar. She had us all believing she was who she said she was. Who is to say she will not lie again? We need the serum to ensure she is telling the truth.”

  Macon stiffened. There was truth to Koran’s words, but he did not like the idea of forcing her.

  “Koran is right,” Dex said finally. “Give her the injection.”

  Chapter Six

  Annabel awoke slowly, as though coming out of a deep fog. Her head was heavy and achy, her mouth dry, and there was a nasty taste in her mouth, as though she’d been vomiting. She groaned.

  “What the hell have I been drinking?” She rarely drank, she didn’t like feeling out of control. So she could count on one hand the number of times she’d been hung over.

  “Annabel?”

  The voice was gruff, hard, but unmistakably male. She stiffened. Fuck. She’d never drunk so much before that she’d brought a man home with her. What the hell? What was going on?

  She forced herself to open her eyes, the glaring light assaulted her eyeballs, and she groaned in pain as it sent a sharp, stabbing pain through her head.

  “Fuck.” She placed her arm over her eyes to protect them.

  “Annabel? Can you hear me? Open your eyes.” The voice was commanding. Rough.

  “Can’t you see I’m trying to, dude? Sheesh. Give a girl a break. Must have had a few tequila slushies too many.”

  “Annabel?” A different male voice this time. Two of them? Had she brought two men home with her? What had she been drinking last night? “I have something for the pain if that helps.”

  “Who are you?” she asked. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get into this state. Right now, she was as vulnerable as she’d ever been. If whoever she’d brought home decided to attack her, she wasn’t certain she could even fight back. “Where am I?”

  This wasn’t her place. The mattress was too hard. The smell not quite right. This place smelled a bit musty and damp. Had she gone home to some stranger’s place?

  This just got worse and worse.

  “Annabel? Why is she not opening her eyes? What have you done to her?” the rough voice demanded.

  “I warned you that she would have a headache and be disorientated. Annabel, it’s me, Racar. Do you not remember me?”

  There was concern in the male’s voice. Almost as though he cared. But no one in her life cared about her. Well, Rich did in his own way, she guessed.

  “Racar? What kind of name is that? Egyptian? Lebanese?”

  “Zerconian.”

  Zerconian? The big, slick, muscular guys in all the vids who were looking to shack up with some human females.

  Fuck, what was going on? Had she mated one? Why couldn’t she remember? She risked opening one eye. There, not so bad. She opened the other eye and groaned then slammed them shut. It felt as though razor blades were being sliced through her eyes. So not pleasant. “Can you please turn down that light?”

  There was a rustling noise, and she cracked open an eye as the light dimmed.

  “Sorry,” the soothing voice said. “I should have expected you would have problems with light. Is your head sore?”

  “Sore is a huge understatement.” She opened both eyes, sighing in relief as her the softer light didn’t assault her eyeballs.

  “Would you like some water?”

  Would she ever. But she wasn’t going to accept anything from a guy she didn’t know. She turned her head slightly to look at the male sitting on a chair next to the bed. He was large. Much bigger than she was. His dark hair was cut short, and his blue-green eyes were filled with worry as he studied her. “Well, at least you’re dressed.”

  He glanced down at himself with a frown. “You expected me to be undressed?”

  “Why would you expect him to be undressed?”

  She turned to the other voice and saw a much larger male scowling down at her. Now, this was the one she had to watch.

  “Not expected. Worried. What did I drink last night?”

  “Ah, I believe you had some water,” the one by the bed said. What was his name? Racar?

  She snorted. “I think I was drinking something a bit stronger than water, buddy. I have the hangover from hell.”

  “Hangover?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Yeah, you know. What you get after a total bender.”

  “Bender?”

  She sighed. “I forget; English isn’t your first language.”

  “We are not speaking English,” he informed her, and she realized with a start that he was right.

  “Zerconian? Since when do I speak Zerconian?” Okay, now she was starting to get a bit worried. She had a hangover she couldn’t remember getting. She’d brought home two men, and they weren’t even men, they were aliens. When did she meet a Zerconian?

  �
�You have always spoken Zerconian,” the gruff one said. “Why does she not remember this?”

  “I warned you of this,” Racar told him.

  “Okay, we’re going around in circles here.” She moaned as she attempted to sit, the world tilted spinning around her, and she collapsed back against the bed. “What’s wrong with me? What have you done to me?”

  Racar’s eyes widened, and he turned to look over at a large mirror on the wall. This definitely wasn’t her room. She glanced around. Except for the mattress she lay on and the chair Racar sat on there was no other furniture in the room. No dresser or wardrobe or lamps or photos or anything.

  She tensed. Something was very, very wrong.

  “Start talking. Now.”

  Racar turned back to her and bit his lip. “You do not remember me? Or Macon?”

  Macon, so that was scowly dude’s name.

  “Should I? Do I know you?” She held her hand up to her head as she strained to remember anything.

  “What is the last memory you have?” Racar asked urgently.

  “Nope. I’m not saying anything. Not until you tell me where the hell I am and what is going on.”

  ***

  “It could be an act,” Koran said, staring through the one-way mirror at where Racar and Annabel were speaking quietly.

  Macon had left the room, reluctantly, to speak to Dex and Koran. He felt the overwhelming urge to remain with Annabel, to watch over her. He did not like that her memory of him had disappeared. He should never have agreed to the truth serum, but he had been angry. Angry at her betrayal. Furious at the idea she could be his mate.

  “What reason would she have for the pretense?” he queried.

  “To get us to lower our guard so she can escape,” Koran replied.

  Macon was shocked that the truth serum hadn’t worked. Not the way it was designed to. Every question they had answered, she had found some way to answer without giving them what they wished. He didn’t know if truth serum simply didn’t work on humans the way it did Zerconians or if Annabel herself had been able to fight off the serum, but they knew no more than they had before about why she was here and who had sent her.

  “We are not lowering our guard, so there is no chance of that,” Dex said with a frown.

  “What now?” Macon asked.

  Dex turned to him. “We still need to find out what she knows and who she has told. Who sent her and what their agenda is. There is no point in telling the High-Councillor about her until we have figured that out.”

  “What happens to Annabel then?” Macon asked.

  “I do not know.”

  “She must be punished,” Koran warned.

  “Punished? How?” Few women had ever broken Zerconian laws. Anything minor was dealt with within their family unit. The last woman to be severely punished was Fedora for arranging for Zoey to be kidnapped, and she had been banished from Zerconia to Isotone.

  But they could not banish someone who did not live here.

  “Will you send her back?” Macon asked. He paced back and forth, unable to stand still. He fought the urge to go to her. She was a spy. A prisoner. She did not deserve his sympathy. Restless energy filled him. He needed to get out of here. A session in the training room would fix what was wrong with him. Get rid of some of the tension filling him.

  “I will need to think on it,” Dex said

  They watched as Racar stood and exited the room. The door to the small room opened, and the healer entered, looking worried.

  “Did you hear her? She cannot remember anything.”

  “I heard what she wanted us to hear,” Koran told him.

  Racar turned to him, eyes wide. “You think she is faking this?”

  “She is capable of it. She fooled us all before.”

  Racar shook his head. “I do not think this is the case. She does not seem to remember where she is or who I am.”

  “This has not happened to anyone else,” Koran pointed out. “There is usually some temporary memory loss for the period the drug is in their system, but that is all.”

  “But the serum hasn’t been used on a human before,” Racar said almost anxiously. “I may have given her too much. I am not used to using it on such a small frame. Her metabolism is different than ours, and the calculation may have been off.”

  “You should have been more careful,” Macon snarled, and Racar took a step back.

  “It is not his fault.” Dex gave him a quelling look and Macon turned away, wondering at his harsh reaction.

  No, it was his. He gave the order because they all believed that he was her mate. If he was her mate, then he would have protected her better.

  “What if it’s permanent?” Racar stared through the window at where Annabel was struggling to sit.

  Macon resisted the urge to rush into the room to help her. Koran was right, this was probably an act. But his gut told him it wasn’t.

  She sat at the edge of the bed, breathing heavily.

  “She is faking it,” Koran said. “As soon as she realizes we are not fooled then she will give it up.”

  Racar sighed. “I wish to give her some pain killer for the headache.”

  Dex nodded. “Give it to her.”

  “Just get the dose right this time,” Macon ordered.

  Racar gave him a nervous look then nodded and left.

  “Ease down, Macon,” Dex told him. “Racar is only doing as ordered.”

  “What if he has permanently damaged her?”

  Koran snorted. “There is nothing wrong with her.”

  A sudden scream, filled with pain, reached them. Macon froze for a second then he took off into the room where Annabel now lay crying on the bed, Racar standing above her.

  Macon raced towards them and shoved Racar out of the way. The healer stumbled backward, a look of shock on his face.

  “What did you do to her?” Macon snarled, standing over her protectively as she moaned on the masic quietly.

  “N-nothing. I grabbed hold of her arm to steady her for the injection, and she suddenly screamed in pain.” Racar stepped forward.

  “Do not move closer,” Macon warned.

  “I need to check on her.”

  “No.” He wasn’t getting near her. Macon was aware he wasn’t being completely reasonable. She looked unharmed. But that scream still reverberated in his ears, chilling his blood. She’d been in pain. True pain.

  “Macon, stand down.”

  He turned to Dex, aware that his eyes were glowing red.

  Racar waved them all over to the corner. “My touch causes her pain. I can think of one reason that might be.”

  “What are you talking about?” Macon snapped at him.

  “Zoey found it painful to have others touch her when we denied our bond,” Dex explained.

  “What is going on?” she asked, her voice as subdued as he had ever heard it. He glanced over to see her watching them with some consternation and a little fear.

  She’d gone slightly crazy when Dex had ordered Racar to give her the serum. Macon had held her down so Racar could inject her. She’d stared up at him as he’d lain over her, her green eyes filled with betrayal and a hint of fear.

  “Enough!” Dex held up his hand. “She must be watched, and we cannot keep her down here forever. Macon, we will tell her you are mates then you can take her to your house and keep a close watch on her. If she is acting, she will trip up. If she is not, then her memory may still return, and we need to watch her closely. You are in the best position to do so.”

  Macon wished he could argue, but the look on his Emperor’s face told him this was not a topic to test him on. So he nodded in agreement.

  ***

  What the hell were these guys whispering about? Who were the other two? And what had just happened? Racar had touched her, and it felt like hot pokers pressing against her skin. She was trained to withstand torture, but that on top of this hangover from hell was almost too much for her to take. The urge to vomit rolled over her as s
he forced herself up. She managed to stand, though, despite her noodle-like legs.

  “Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on? Because I’m about to lose my shit over here.”

  Racar turned to her. “You need the bathroom?”

  “What? No.” Well, yes, but she wasn’t going to admit that in front of these guys. She studied them closely. Damn, these guys were big. Of course, she knew they would be from the vids she’d seen but in real life, they just seemed that much bigger. “I mean, I’m getting mad. If someone doesn’t explain what’s going on in the next minute, then I am out of here.”

  “You cannot leave,” the scowling dark-haired one told her. He had a scar that ran down his neck. He stared at her as though he couldn’t stand being in the same room as her. Charming.

  “Listen, Gargamel, I’ll do what I like. You can’t hold me. There are rules about that sort of thing.”

  “On Zerconia, I make the laws.” The blond one spoke this time. While he didn’t give her the same look of revulsion, she also got the idea he didn’t think much of her. And what did he mean, on Zerconia?

  “I’m on Zerconia, not Earth?” So she probably should have reached that conclusion herself, considering she was surrounded by Zerconians, but her brain was moving sluggishly.

  “Yes.”

  “You want to elaborate on that, Prince Charming?” she asked blondie. He looked like every woman’s idea of a dream date. Only, he wasn’t her type. Too perfect. Too pretty. She liked her men a bit more rugged.

  “What am I doing here?”

  “You came here with the group of women visiting from Earth,” Gargamel told her.

  “What? Why would I do that?” She remembered Rich talking about how Earth was sending a transporter to Zerconia. Women had been asked to volunteer to see if they were compatible mates. They’d had ten times as many volunteers as they had room on the ship.

  Like she would ever volunteer; she had no wish to mate one of these guys. Even if she had been in the market for a man, which she was not, these guys had caveman written all over them. They’d probably have a heart attack if she broke a nail.