Page 6 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)

Chapter Four

Two Years Later

Earth

Old Lake City

Mainframe, a Nightclub.

Tiny ran her hand over her waist to her hip in the blurred reflection of the bathroom mirror. She giggled, her thoughts swirling, buzzing. Her hearing thumped in sync with the beat pounding through the walls.

She was one shot away from throwing up or passing out.

With a stumble to the basin, she splashed water onto her face.

The cool shock granted her a moment of clarity before the fuzziness returned.

Instinct whispered that she should call it a night.

Tomorrow was her graduation. As it was, she’d be suffering from a hangover when she accepted her medical degree.

Leaving, though, was another story altogether.

Squaring her shoulders, she gave herself a final glance; her jeans hugged curves that hadn’t been there when she’d first started her studies.

Same for the pink T-shirt showcasing her fuller breasts.

Too many midnight study sessions with takeouts or cupcakes.

The downward spiral of her changed appearance—and not for the better—would trap her in the bathroom.

She swallowed past the cocktail-flavored bile pooling at the back of her throat and yanked open the door. The music lambasted her traumatized ears.

“About time,” Shelly said, wrapping her arm through Tiny’s.

“One last dance, Shell, then I must go.” Tiny used a firm tone, hoping to convey her determination.

“Aw.” Shelly pouted. Dark smears of smudged mascara gave her an unintentional smoky look, and her lipstick had faded, leaving behind pink lips.

“Don’t give me that look, babe.” Tiny pressed her cheek to Shelly’s sweaty upper arm. “I’m tired, and my feet are killing me.”

“Fair enough.” Shelly dragged Tiny onto the dance floor, shoving people aside to do so.

The lights were overwhelming: too many colors flickering everywhere.

The crush of people sucked the air from the room; the stench of unwashed bodies, stale perfume, spilled drinks, and vomit assaulted her nose.

And even as the music vibrated up the heels of her stunning, new boots, the rhythm didn’t compel her to dance.

Still, she pushed through the need to leave, forced a smile, and managed to do a few hip swings.

“Don’t look now, but you’re being stalked, girl,” Shelly screamed into Tiny’s ear.

The compulsion to look grabbed her. She wasn’t in the mood to be groped by whoever thought she was a quick fuck.

Still, curiosity won out, and she peeked, scanning the general area Shelly had gestured at.

Against one wall leaned a man. Not a student, if she judged his tailored pants and crisp, white button-up.

His dark hair flopped over his brow on one side, and his brooding stare rested on her.

On another night, she might have been flattered. But she’d spent what free time she had on her back, as expected of a young woman ‘discovering herself.’

“Oh, and Riaan’s here, too.” Shelly wiggled her eyebrows.

That was Tiny’s cue. Running into her ex-fling was beyond her capacity to deal with. Not now or ever, for that matter. “I’m out, babe. See you tomorrow.”

Shelly waved then latched onto a random woman shimmying past.

Tiny bolted before her dearest friend changed her mind and chased after her. The balls of her feet burned at the abuse she’d put them through. Thoughts of her dorm room filled her with longing. A sol-bath, her bed, sleep, and in that order.

She strode out of the club with barely a wobble. Night air bathed her, making her shiver. She veered around couples and smaller groups loitering near the entrance to reach the pick-up point marked with a yellow dot on the walkway. A streetlight shone down, illuminating her in a pool of white.

Tapping her palm, she dialed for a taxi, then pressed her hand to her ear, her wrist closest to her mouth. As soon as the call was answered, she said, “Hi, yes, I need a ride from Mainframe, please.”

“Five minutes,” the AI intoned.

She shut her eyes, taking slow breaths when sleep teased the edges of her mind. Fifteen more minutes, and she’d be home.

“Leaving so soon?” a man asked, snapping her eyes open.

She swiveled, gaped, then shut her mouth.

Mr. Brooding-Stare stood beside her.

She shifted, her instincts warning her that he was trouble. Danger poured off his broad shoulders, despite his casual stance with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. In the light, they were a dark silver color and looked expensive.

“Yes. It’s been a long night,” she said, forming fists so she wouldn’t be tempted to flick her hair out of her face.

“I see. It’s unsafe for a woman to be alone this late. Waiting for someone to fetch you?”

She stiffened at his subtle dig for information. This man wasn’t to be trusted.

“My ride’s on its way.” She flashed a tight smile. “Thank you for keeping me company while I wait.”

He jerked back, raised his head, and studied the passing autodrive vehicles. “If you were my sister, I would guard you better.”

She winced. Jamie was a far cry from the world’s best brother. She hadn’t seen him for months, and he only contacted her when he needed tokens.

“Not all brothers love their sisters,” she said, then dipped her gaze to her boots.

“That is especially true for you,” the man said when an autodrive pulled up before them.

She blinked at him. “Do I know you?”

He laughed and opened the door for her. “No.”

When she climbed in, she expected him to bid her goodnight.

Instead, he bent to meet her gaze. “But Jamie does.”

In he slid, pinning her to the seat.

She squeaked and struggled, but he kept her in place with his strength alone. Nor did the autodrive pay her any heed. In the calmest voice, he gave it a new address, one far across the city.

She gaped at him, unable to form words. As drunk as she was, she couldn’t grasp what he wanted from her or how she’d landed in this situation. Nor could she anticipate the injection-gun he pressed to her neck. A blast of liquid-cold bit into her.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, cupping her neck.

“Making sure you’re complacent.” He shifted back, granting her space to breathe.

She lunged for the door but made it inches before her arm slumped. “What…” she slurred, speaking like she was underwater.

“You can thank your brother for this.”

Those were the last words she heard.

Tiny muscled her way through the fog consuming her brain.

How much had she drunk last night? A piercing pain shot through her left eye.

Everything was sluggish, from her swollen tongue to moving her body.

Her stomach churned, threatening to throw up a variety of alcohol and semi-digested peanuts.

She must’ve tossed and turned because the blankets had her wrapped tight.

A sense of urgency pressed on her. What was it about today that she needed to remember? Somewhere she had to be, maybe? And what was that smell?

Burned metal came to mind. She winced and flicked an eye open. Then the other in disbelief.

Tied to a chair, she slouched forward as far as the rope would allow.

Her neck pinged like she’d slept funny, but none of that mattered when she was in the center of what looked like a warehouse.

No. A factory. Welders worked around her.

Bright flashes of their torches were focused on autodrives and antique cars, some worth more than all her tuition combined.

A hexagonal dome of glass separated her from them and muted the sounds. Which meant screaming wouldn’t be heard by anyone. Besides, they could see her, and yet, they’d done nothing to save her.

The sexy stalker had mentioned Jamie. What the hell had he done this time?

She searched for a friendly face, someone who could help her escape.

Beyond the floor was a staircase going up to a mezzanine level.

Below that were walls with no door in sight.

Besides, she couldn’t escape the hexagon.

A glance up showed chains on a metal frame capping the room.

They would have to lift the glass in one movement to reach her. For a cell, this was quite effective.

Tears pressed at the backs of her eyes and leaked past her defenses. She was trapped by a brooding asshole. Because her slime ball of a brother had pissed off the wrong people, by the looks of things.

Men hurried in, carrying boxes overflowing with packets of blue pills, and dumped them at each welder. Realization dawned. They were stashing the drugs inside the frames of all these vehicles.

She tried to focus past the white flashes, hoping to remember as much as she could to convey to the authorities. If these dealers let her go.

Pain cinched her wrists when she struggled to free them. She slumped and glanced down for a moment. Worse than disco lights, the arc flashes made her eyes burn.

Part of her hoped the stalker from last night would appear. She needed a familiar face even if it was his. And maybe, he’d explain what the hell he’d injected her with and what he planned to do with her.

She gritted her teeth and glared at all the mean men around her.

When she got her hands on Jamie, she was going to strangle him.

A cranking of chains snapped her gaze up.

The cell lifted, inch by inch. Waiting on the outskirts were two men, neither of them the stalker dude.

One had a mustache and a buzz cut, his muscles straining against his ill-fitting suit.

The other was an older man with his white hair perfectly styled.

He wore jeans, a T-shirt, a blazer, and loafers, looking like he’d just stepped off a yacht.

As soon as the glass was high enough, he dipped under and approached her.

“My apologies for the treatment, Tinika,” he said, his accent cultured. The scent of soap and cologne teased her nose. Gold rings glinted on a tooth and his fingers.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” she said. “I don’t know who you are.”