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Jane's Warlord

"So what are we going to do, just wait for him to show up and kill me?"

Baran's ringed hand came to rest on her shoulder, radiating strength and warmth. Startled, she looked up. "He's not going to kill you, Jane." His eyes were so dark, so rich, like pools of dark chocolate....

"At the risk of interrupting your mating ritual," Frieka said, "it's been three hundred years since I had anything to drink. I have three choices -- I could go outside and look for a stream, I could drink out of the nearest toilet, or...."

"I'll get you something." Jane turned away from Baran, fighting the niggle of regret as his comforting hold dropped away.

"Food would be good too," Freika added. "Though I suppose I could hunt for myself -- if you don't mind losing your cat."

She eyed him. "Octopussy is not wolf chow, furball. I'm sure there's something in the freezer."

"Don't put yourself out." Raising his voice, he called, "Here, kitty, kitty...."

"All right, already!" Jane stalked toward the kitchen. What the hell was she going to feed him? She didn't have any dog food, even assuming he'd lower himself to eat it.

Steak. There were a couple of ribeyes in the freezer.

She pulled it open and reached inside, found the package and grabbed it. Out of habit, she started to check it for freezer burn.

A chunk of meat, dark red, traces of frozen blood on the plastic....

An image rose in her mind - Druas, digging Mary Kelly's heart out of her chest.... Her ears began to buzz. She stared sightlessly at the steak, fighting to stay upright. It felt as though her throat was swelling shut. Breathe, dammit, she ordered herself. Don't pass out in the floor in front of them. They already think I'm....

Gutless, her father's voice whispered in her mind. I always said you were gutless.

No, she thought, fighting the well of tears. No, you're wrong.

He's going to kill you because you're too incompetent to save yourself.

Dammit, no. She blinked the tears away. I'm not incompetent. That may have been what you told me for twenty years, but I've proven you wrong. I'm aggressive, I'm tough, and I will survive this.

Only if that big hunk of muscle in there saves you. Otherwise you don't have a prayer.

Anger flooded her, welcome and hot, chasing away the chill. Yes, I will. I'm going to beat this.

I'm going to beat you.