Watcher's Web

Watcher's Web Chapter 23

Jessica opened one eye.

A soft noise had startled her, as if someone was in her room.

The first thing she saw was a very tall ceiling that was definitely not the one in her guesthouse room. There was a window in the room—very dirty. She lay on a bare mattress on a dusty and cracked mosaic floor. There were other mattresses around the perimeter of the room, where Pengali slept, rendered in shades of grey in the semidarkness.

What the … ?

Jessica pushed an elbow under her. Her stomach gave a protesting growl, bringing with it a surge of bile. Sweaty skin puckered into gooseflesh as a heavy and warm weight slid off her thigh: a male arm, which twitched with her movement.

Daya. His eyelids relaxed and closed, his long eyelashes arranged in perfect sliver-moon crescents. Bluish light silvered the curve of his shoulder, moving slowly up-down-up-down with his deep breaths.

A black tattoo of thorned branches encircled his upper arm. She hadn’t seen that last night. Then again, she hadn’t seen much at all.

Hell, she didn’t remember half of what had happened last night. Only shards of images and fragments of conversation. They had gone inside the house, where a group of Pengali silently retreated. Daya had offered her a drink. The blue stuff was called zixas and its acrid smell hit her face like a cloud of chloroform. He had downed it in one gulp. Laughing with the effects of his maddening scent, she had tried to copy him, but the stuff was so strong she couldn’t help coughing. He had licked the coughed-up splatters from her face and chest. Hell, when had her shirt disappeared? It lay in the dust on the floor.

The images. There was something about images they shared. Images in his mind, and hers. Something about soaring through clouds and thundering rivers, and her face, her hair backlit by golden sun.

How had she ended up on her back on the mattress, his skin sweaty against hers?

She breathed with him; her heart beat against his; his lips explored her naked skin.

How could this have happened? I don’t even know who he is.

And what were all the Pengali doing here, sleeping curled up on mats along the walls?

A shiver went through her.

She reached for her tunic, but as the fabric unfolded, an empty bottle tumbled out and rolled clang, clang, clang over the stone floor.

Shit.

Daya’s eyelids fluttered and opened. He looked around, confused, and smiled as his eyes met hers. Warmth flooded through her. Not her warmth.

That’s how it happened. His mind addled hers. His smell clouded her senses. His blue drink had completed the task. She'd been his for the taking, and he had taken her.

He pulled her closer. His mouth still tasted of that vile liquid. She wanted to push him away, but stroked his hair instead. Soft, gorgeous.

If he noticed the confusion in her, he didn’t show it. His lips glistened when he broke the kiss. "Let’s get dressed and go."

Jessica stiffened and wanted to ask go where? But she was afraid of waking up the Pengali. She scrambled to her feet and yanked on her tunic.

Even the corridor was full of Pengali, sleeping two or three to a mat. Seeing them brought uncomfortable memories. The Pengali featured in the happenings of last night. They’d come in, worshipped her; they had watched. In the dark, Jessica stepped across legs and bundles of clothes. Somewhere outside, a gutter overflowed.