Stolen by the Zandian (Zandian Brides 7)

Seke’s holo spins to look at me. “Captain, her reluctance is precisely why you’re going to a holding cell. Your methods of extracting her may not have been honorable. We need full information before any action is taken.”

I curse and fall back to my chair.

And then a terrible realization hits me.

“She needs her medication,” I snap. “The one we went to Dentron to gather flowers for. If she doesn’t get it, she suffers horribly.”

“Where is the medication?” Master Seke asks coolly.

“On the ship. I must get it now.” I’m already running out the door, without leave.

Kailani

I wake into a nightmare. Two beings hover over me, peering down with great concentration, one a Zandian, the other one apparently a human female.

“Her vitals are strong, and she’s free of any infectious agents,” the male declares. “But adrenaline levels are high, and her cortisol is dangerously elevated. She’ll need to rest and relax before we can begin the testing.” He sounds displeased at this. “Those need to come back to normal levels first.”

As they come into focus, I realize he holds a syringe.

I scream and jerk.

The human flinches in surprise, but the Zandian doesn’t react. His expression is cool. “She’s awake,” he says to his companion. He sets the syringe down on a shiny tray. “Calm her, please.”

My whole body begins to tremble. I lurch up to a sitting position. “No,” I struggle. “Get away from me.”

The syringe gleams in the light.

The human’s voice is gentle and soft. “We’re not going to hurt you, Kailani. We’re going to give you something to help you relax.”

I’m confused by the fact that it’s a human working on me. A human in some position of power over me.

“Where’s my whimmet?” I have no idea why I’m asking about the animal now. Maybe because with Khrys’ betrayal, that little furry creature is the only being I trust.

“Your what?” The human blinks at me, her eyebrows arched up into a query.

“The animal I found. It was on the craft with me.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about that.” She hands me a fluid tube. “Please drink this, yes? You need to rehydrate.”

I ignore the fluid. “They didn’t hurt her, did they?” M

y stomach is a rock. Pain starts to reverberate in my skull.

The doctor steps forward, the needle prepped in his gloved hand.

“No! Don’t touch me.” I’m hoarse with panic. They don’t seem to have me tied down, but I’m dizzy and nauseated. My headache is coming on swiftly.

I look around me for any ways to escape. I’m in a small room that’s mostly white and silver—it looks like a med bay. The door is secure, and the window, if it even opens, doesn’t seem easily accessible.

I jump down from the table in a crouch. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will,” I warn.

The Zandian instantly steps protectively in front of the dark-haired human. “You will do no such thing,” he snaps.

“It’s going to be all right.” The human sounds so kind. She touches the Zandian’s arm in a gesture that appears more intimate than a master-slave or even boss-employee. “It’s normal to be disoriented on your first planet rotation here. Many humans have this kind of reaction. But you’re on Zandia now. You’re safe.”

I eye the needle, panic surging again. “Let me out of here. You have to let me out of here. I won’t let you experiment on me.” A terrible trembling starts through my limbs. I kick the needle out of the Zandian’s hand. At least I try to, but he quickly side-steps and wraps an arm around my chest.

“I’ll sedate her. She’s too agitated to reason with. We’ll try again later,” he says to his assistant.