Eradicate (Manipulate, Book 3)

Chapter 4

Spo Embassy

Planet: Selta

Claire knew it was the same old nightmare, the one where she betrayed Jenelle. She hadn't had the dream in a while, and it struck again with force. Only now, at the end, it morphed into another dream. This time Akemi was the one who was going to die. Now it was Faal strangling Akemi against him, not the Spo who had really killed Jenelle and begun her nightmares. Faal's hand tightened on Akemi's neck.

In her dream, Akemi was a girl the same age as Claire, but wispy and see-through, like a ghost, with black hair floating around her. She hovered just in front of Claire.

"Take me," she said simply to Faal, who was crushing her neck. "Take me."

"No, no!" Claire screamed. Her instinctive swallow nearly made her choke.

Akemi became slightly more solid until the hall was no longer visible through her translucent body. "Take me," she said again.

Faal let go of her neck and reached for Akemi's arm. When his strong, talon-like fingers gripped her, she flared into solidity. Her hair whipped as in a strong wind and her body became so bright Claire could hardly look at her. Akemi's feet landed with a solid thud against the tile.

Faal's beak opened in a hawk's smile, and he twisted Akemi's arm cruelly in his grasp. She sighed, but it seemed to be more a sigh of satisfaction than pain. Faal twisted harder, bruising Akemi's arm and dragging her away from Claire.

Claire cried out at the pain her friend must be in, and tried once more to grab her. Again, she could not connect with Akemi, but this time it was Akemi who was solid and Claire who was mist. Claire's hands grasped ineffectually at Akemi, her fingers turning to smoke.

As Akemi disappeared into the void with Faal, Claire looked down at her own dissolving essence. Her body fluttered in a strange breeze and one misty hand detached and sank into the polished, shiny tile. She watched in horror as her body began to drift apart and disappear, and she tried to scream, but couldn't make any noise.

"Wake up. Wake up!" A harsh, male voice.

Someone was squeezing her hand, and Claire lashed out with her foot in that direction, even as she began to wake and knew it wasn't Faal. Unfortunately, she tried to kick with her wounded leg. The pain fit too well with her dream and she reacted again on instinct, striking with the heel of her good hand toward the slightly blurry face above her.

Her mind was catching up though, and her strike was slow enough that Basher was able to deflect her blow away from his nose and pin her hand against the blanket.

She was sitting on her bed, still propped up with pillows against the headboard. Basher leaned over her, one hand stabilizing her casted arm, the other still holding her good hand away from his face. His eyes were only inches from hers now, but as soon as he saw that she was awake, he backed off, releasing her arm and stepping away from the bed.

Claire processed that the light in her room was still on, and her tablet had slid off her lap. She must have fallen asleep while she was still researching.

"What are you doing in here?" Claire asked, more roughly than Basher probably deserved. She looked around, noticing that it was late, and taking in Nat's empty bed. Nat was usually the one who woke Claire out of her nightmares now.

"Sam and Nat and Shara were still in the library when I left them," Basher said, moving a few more steps away to give her space. "I could hear you – ah, having a nightmare – when I came down the hall."

"Oh." Claire nodded, knowing she still tended to yell in her sleep. She began to scoot toward the edge of the bed. Her leg injury was healing well, but it hurt now, and the cast on her arm made all her movements difficult.