CHAPTER 2 - UNKNOWN

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A gentle pressure against my forehead, mingled with a strange, tingling warmth brought me back to consciousness. A large hand rested on my head, its fingers caressing my face, and my hair.

I barely dared to breathe.

"It has been far too long," the hand's owner whispered—the voice of the man who had knocked me out. "The nightmare is finally over."

"Nightmare?" The word jumped out of my mouth before I could stop it. I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly through blurriness, and tried to roll away from him. But something stopped me—a heavy blanket tucked over the top of me, the weight of him next to me holding it firmly in place.

The man had changed. He now wore a steel gray, knee length suit covered in silvery patterns that swirled across the fabric like storm clouds. The suit was fitted and clung firmly to his thick, muscular chest and forearms, only adding to his already fierce appearance. He was much older than the frightened guards had been, early fifties maybe, with dark, tanned skin, short, silvery-gray hair, a thick, close-cropped beard, and three black lines on the outer edge of his ear.

He jerked his hand away as though my skin had burned him. But heat was the exact opposite of what I felt the second his fingers left. I gasped and choked on icy spit as all warmth vanished and a surge of cold permeated my entire body, as if my blood itself had turned to ice.

"What did you do to me?" I choked out.

He grabbed my shoulders. "Calm yourself. Hyperventilating will only make it worse."

"Don't touch me!"

He did, but he didn't move away. "You should not be awake," he whispered, glancing behind him, toward the large, red, double doors. "You need rest, my dear. By the look of you, wherever you're coming from could not have been easy." He stood and put his hand out over my head. And I remembered what that meant.

"No! Please! Just let me ask—"

"You need to sleep through the night. It would be better if questions were asked tomorrow."

"Why?"

He glanced back once more. "It isn't safe."

I shook my head, though the icy stiffness in my neck made it more of a back-and-forth twitch. "Not safe for—"

He touched my head, and the tingling began.

I was about to protest further, but the sound of a door creaking open made both of us jump.

The old man turned in surprise. He stood and stepped away quickly. "You shouldn't be in here," he said quietly. "Colleena checked her over, but we can't yet be certain she isn't a threat."

"The neutralizer is in place?"

"Yes, but we would be more at ease if the test was performed before—"

"Tritteon is just outside. You may retire for the evening."

"But—"

"I have given everyone all the information I feel is necessary at this time, Pharro. There is not a threat."

"Respectfully, my friend, you do not..."

I watched as an agitated silence followed. Pharro stood with his hand outstretched toward one of the bird-talon handles of the double doors, glaring at the man in front of him. The glare would have been enough to make me cower and hide.

But the second man didn't exhibit so much as a muscle twitch. He stood a couple inches shorter, his silvery gray hair slicked back lazily, as if he had just gotten out of bed and couldn't be bothered with it. His dark blue robe swept the floor around his feet, obscuring them in a way that gave the illusion he was floating. If he carried a weapon, there was no way to tell, and his military straight stance angled him away from me enough that his face wasn't entirely visible.

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