“Sasha,” her mother snapped with disgust in her tone. “You’re going to ruin your dress with all that sweating, and your makeup is melting off. Stop this instant.”
“Mother. Can I have a blanket, please?” She was so cold. And hot. Both at once and neither at the same time.
Her mother eyed her warily before sitting back and digging in her pocket. To Sasha’s horror, her mother pulled out a cellphone and took a few pictures of her. She was so out of it, she couldn’t even protest or ask why her mother needed a shot of her sweating and shaking—looking her worst.
For the press, of course. This is exactly what she wanted, Sasha mentally sneered.
Pictures secured, her mother tossed her a blanket and then burrowed through a nearby chest to pull out spare clothing and other supplies. Jenna briefly spoke to two black-clad men in the back of the van with them, and they assured her that they knew what they were doing and would soon reach the safehouse, undeterred.
Safehouse? She had no idea what her mother had planned but she was in no condition to fight with Jenna just then. Not with yet another wave of shivering overtaking her. Even with the blanket her mother had provided, the trembles continued to plague her.
While her mother spoke with one of the guards, the other looked over Sasha with curiosity in his gaze. He glanced at Jenna for a moment, obviously unsure if he was allowed to speak to Sasha, but eventually he just shrugged and shuffled across the floor to her. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Is there something hot to drink?”
He nodded and opened a large chest nearby. “We have some stuff in here for the trip and the van is self-sufficient for a few weeks. Is tea okay?”
Sasha nodded, idly wondering if she was strong enough to even hold the cup.
“No sugar or milk!” her mother snapped.
The tough guy shot Jenna a glance but quickly turned back to Sasha. “Here.” He dropped in a big spoonful of sugar while Jenna was distracted. “You need it. You’re in shock or something.”
As he reached to hand her the cup, she sat up a little, gripping the mug tightly as she took a small sip. It did make her feel a hint warmer and the bitter edge against the sweetness of the sugar soothed her writhing, twisting stomach.
“Thank you,” she murmured. She had to fight tears as she met his gaze.
He glanced over at Jenna once more, and it wasn’t a friendly look he flashed her mother. “I’m Dave,” he spoke softly. “Your mother hired the four of us to guard you and keep you safe from the Preor. We’re mercenaries skilled in stealth and covert operations. Don’t worry. We can keep you safe from the dragons.”
Sasha shook her head as she handed the empty cup back to him, but she truly had nothing to say. Part of her wanted to scream, No, I need the dragons! While the other part of her wanted to get as far away from them as possible.
As her mother turned back to Sasha, Dave retreated to speak with his partner. Jenna once more placed a hand on Sasha’s forehead, but it didn’t feel as soothing and comforting as a mother’s hand should. It felt as if daggers and writhing shadows were ready to tear her apart, wrenching deep sobs out of Sasha’s chest.
“It’s okay, darling,” Jenna murmured with false sympathy. “We had a plan for this all along. This has gone far better than I expected.”
Sasha stared at her mother in disbelief as understanding blossomed within her. She was beginning to understand just how far her mother would go for fame and to push her own agenda.
“Mom, I’m really sick.”
“I know. Isn’t it wonderful! I want to get some more shots of you in the van, just like this. You’re so pale and your eyes look bruised.” She drew one of her sharp-fingered hands across Sasha’s brow. “It’s perfect.”
“I feel like I’m dying, mom,” Sasha tried to explain again.
“Stop it,” Jenna snapped. “I’m not having any of your melodramatics. This is exactly what we need to prove that this is all brainwashing. If women were willing, why would they need to poison you? We have the story, Sasha. That’s all that matters. You can just hang on while we get the footage we need. I’ll have the best doctors on hand as soon as we tape your interview. Then I’ll let them help you.”
“Mother,” the word came from deep within her throat. There was no question she could ask, no plea she could make that would change her mother’s actions. Sasha truly understood the realities of their relationship for the first time, and now she was too weak to fight her circumstances.
“Hmmm?” Her mother raised a single brow, barely paying any attention to her daughter.
Sasha began to shiver once again and pulled the blanket around her even tighter. “I’m getting cold again, Mother.”
Jenna looked up from a small stack of books she had pulled from a chest and spoke to the van’s driver. “Turn on the heater or something, James.” She growled. “I can’t take it when she whines.”
Sasha would have cried if she’d had the strength. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself as warm air began to leak from the vents, but she knew it wasn’t going to do much good. The cold was inside her, an aching longing that couldn’t be cured by blankets or hot air.
The Knowing.
Shaa kouvi.
“What did you just say?” Her mother gave her a sharp look and Sasha shook her head. “I’m writing out the interview questions now,” her mother spoke eagerly. “I really regret we can’t have a proper presenter for this—like Stacy Mae from MTV or something. We’ll have to make do with me, I guess. I can’t convince any of the popular hosts to come out and cover this.”
Because it’s fucking bogus! Sasha screamed in her mind.
Sasha had seen enough to know that the Preor warriors weren’t rapists or anything like her mother accused. They had been respectful of the women, almost hesitant to introduce themselves when faced with the group of ladies.
The Knowing sickness continued to assault her, frightening her deeply. She knew exactly what plagued her as her mind opened to centuries of Preor knowledge. The problem was, none of it convinced her she had any free will. It really did feel like being brainwashed—or like having her entire body hijacked by hormones.
It was as if seeing Whelon had caused a cascade of chemical reactions inside her. They had not even gotten to touch each other before they were torn apart, and she desperately wanted him… Yet she was terribly afraid of her own desires as well.
I feel like I have no choice, she thought desperately. I feel like my mind is not my own!
Those thoughts brought the horrible dread of realization that she had never had her own life. She had always been a toy, a doll, to her only parent. In the past she had brushed off her worries and told herself that her mother only had her best interests at heart, but now, Sasha saw the truth. It was there in her mother’s features as she gave her full attention to organizing the film she wanted instead of to her ailing daughter.
If I have to choose between two masters, I choose Whelon! she thought, rebelliously.
When she had been close to the Preor warrior, she had felt an intimacy she couldn’t have ever imagined. Not just the Knowing, and not just that they were made for each other. He appreciated her. He could see her, the Knowing making sure he knew her as deeply as she knew herself—perhaps even more so.