Blaedergil's Host by C.M. Simpson (reading well .TXT) 📕

“Your brother assured me he had your full consent.”

And the implant cracked open, just the tiniest bit.

“He did. To save our people.” I stopped, and more of the answer came. “He could think of no other way.”

And now Blaedergil did smile.

“Indeed, there isn’t one,” he said. “Your people made a bargain, and you are but the first of many.”

I was? I didn’t remember that from the briefing.

There’d been a briefing?

I watched as Blaedergil walked away, his figure becoming indistinct after a few paces, and then fading, until he was little more than a shadow in the glass—after that, he was gone. I felt my body relax as soon as he’d disappeared from view.

The implant cracked open just a little bit more, and I remembered. Everything.

“Mack, you are such a bastard,” I said, remembering the plan to get me inside.

No wonder I hadn’t wanted a bar of it. First Mack had had to kill me—or as near to as to make no never mind—and then Blaedergil would kill me. Every night. From our wedding night onwards—until he tired of me, or until I conceived a child.

The briefing hadn’t covered how, either how I’d die, or how I’d conceive if I was dying every night. It didn’t cover how long it would take Blaedergil to tire of me, and ask for my replacement. And I was glad, because the concept was chilling me to the very bone. I pulled against the restraints holding my wrists to my side, and then I tried to move my feet.

Something I did must have activated the sensors in the tank, because Blaedergil returned.

“Do you remember now?”

“Please,” I said. “I want to live.”

And he laughed.

“And so you shall. How else do I get to kill you, if you aren’t alive?”

He watched me struggle until I couldn’t find the energy to struggle any more.

“You should sleep,” he said. “I want you well-rested for our special night.”

He stroked a fingertip down the glass, tracing the curve of my face and neck.

“Sleep,” he said. “You’ll need it.”

I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to rest. I didn’t want a special night. I wanted, desperately, to get away. But I couldn’t. There’s no escaping a tranquilizer that infiltrates the very environment around you.

And Blaedergil stayed, watching until sleep took me under.

I wondered if he’d be there when I woke—and hoped with all my heart he wouldn’t.

6—Blaedergil’s Bride

Blaedergil wasn’t around when I woke up—and I wasn’t in the tank.

I was chained to a bed... because that was so much better.

The room was empty when I first opened my eyes, but it wasn’t for much longer afterwards. Can’t a girl have any privacy? I thought, glaring at Blaedergil.

“It’s bad luck for a groom to see a bride before the wedding.”

He looked vaguely amused.

“Memory back yet?”

I swallowed, nodded, and then realized I should be afraid, instead of figuring out ways to kill him. He didn’t seem to notice, though. Just reached across and undid the cuffs.

“I’d give you an abject lesson on why you shouldn’t try to leave,” he said, “but I can’t be bothered. As to our wedding night, I think I’ll let you get acquainted with the house, first.”

I sat up when he stepped away from the bed, and followed his hand as he gestured around the room.

“These shall be your quarters for at least the next two nights. After that, we’ll talk wedding plans, ceremonies, flowers, cake—but not guests. I’m not into last-minute heroics, or hysterics.”

He turned back towards the door, and I watched him walk away.

Two nights, I thought, remembering. It would be more than time enough.

Inside my head, I felt Mack agree. Before I could think on why I could feel Mack in my head, Blaedergil stopped, and looked back.

“I want our first night to be special,” he said, and then continued on his way.

I had thought he’d want to say more than that, but movement caught my eye, movement slightly beyond him, a woman waiting by the door. I stared, and then realized what I was seeing. I must have made some kind of sound, because Blaedergil looked back.

“My corpse bride,” he said, indicating the girl beside him. “You and I cannot yet wed, for I am still married.”

He said no more, but offered his arm to the woman waiting at the door. She folded her hand through the crook of it, and looked, once more, to me, before turning a rapturous gaze on his face.

“Thank you.” Her whisper reached me from the door, and, for the life of me, I could not say who it was she thanked.

The door closed behind them, and fear washed over me. Mack’s voice caught me tucked up on the bed, my knees drawn tightly to my chest as I shook.

“Two days.” His voice cut through sheer panic rolling through me. “Two. You heard the man. Now, move!”

I moved.

I’d made planet-fall in a stasis box. With a hole in my heart. I had woken without a stitch of clothing and the injury healed. I had nothing else I needed.

“Time to move,” Mack repeated, as I registered just how much work I had to do in the very short time Blaedergil had allotted. “Get dressed.”

I tried to do just that. There were gowns hanging in a closet on one side of the room. Gowns. And nothing else. Inside my head, I heard Mack laugh.

“Not funny, Mack,” I said, sliding the least revealing one over my head.

“I preferred the red one,” he told me, and I stuck out a mental tongue.

“Tell me where I need to go.”

He did, and I went.

Two floors up, and I still hadn’t encountered another living soul. Nor a dead one. For which I was eternally grateful. Although the total lack of life was really starting to freak me out.

Three floors up, and the screaming started.

“His bedroom is on this floor,” Mack said. “Keep climbing.”

I kept climbing, but Mack was silent in my head, and I felt like I had lead weights sitting inside my chest.

Another scream rent