Chapter One
"Jackie O'Brien!" A man called out into the dark. Jack crouched in the dark, her hair just a little shorter then shoulder length and the color of bottled honey. Sweat beaded on her ivory skin and the man called her name again.
She thought that when she turned 18 she should be able to stop running, stop worrying where she was going to sleep or if she was going to eat that night. It was cold, the thin clothes barely warned off the biting chill in the air. It had rained the morning before and her clothes were still damp.
The man eventually gave up and turned away, his dark cloak flapping in the breeze. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her clover green eyes darted quickly around the corners. Deciding it was safe; she stepped into the street lamp and almost immediately heard a crash behind her.
She spun around like a scared rabbit under a gun and didn't have time to scream before a strong hand clamped over her lips and roughly dragged her behind the alleyway. She struggled like a wildcat but to no avail, he was too strong for her.
She tried to bit at his hand, only catching the bitter-tasting cloth between her teeth. She stuck a sharp needle into her thin arm and she began to feel weaker by the passing minute. With one final burst of energy, she kicked her leg back and kicked him squarely in the crotch.
With a gasping breath she stumbled away him and tried to run the best she could. By using erratic zigzag patterns through the dark allies, she hoped to loose him, but whatever that he had used on her and began to take its full effect and she felt like her feet were made of led.
It took her a minute to realize that she was hopelessly lost. She had never been down this ally; she couldn't see a light or passage for escape. There was another pain shooting down her left leg, the muscles were beginning to freeze, soon she would be an immobile puddle and he would find her.
Rather to die then to let the cheap bounty hunter Pete Lector find her, she pushed herself forward. Her eyesight and beginning to gray around the edges and her lips were numb. She stumbled forward, half blind when she bumped into a rock hard object.
She felt it blindly with partly numb fingertips; she found something vaguely familiar about the touch of the cloth beneath her fingers. She recognized the smell of sweat and utter manliness. She couldn't quite place it.
Then she felt the muscles in the arms, the torso, the deep rumble of his breathe in his chest. Her lips were frozen; she couldn't say a thing except the pathetic mewling. He seemed to understand even though he didn't know what was chasing her, but he had the urge to protect the one he knew so long ago.
He spun around, shielding Jack with his body. Lector soon emerged from the shadows like a black demon, his gun cocked and ready. A shot echoed through the night but missed the mark. He didn't seem to care who he killed, just as soon as he got what he was being paid for. The papers never specified dead or alive.
There was a grunt and Riddick moved as quick and silently as a shadow. Another shot rang out but this time it was muffled by something. There was a faint moaning in the dark, but Jack couldn't tell whom it was from. Panicked, she took a step forward and fell over a body.
She reached over and gingerly touched the face. She felt the cold skin, the stubble and the warm blood; she knew instinctively it wasn't Riddick. She felt his arms come around her waist that was too thin and half carry half pull her away. There was a whistled and in a minute he hustled her into a metal cab and sat next to her.
His voice was rough like she remembered it and it would have commentated her on anther occasion, but not this one. It was only a matter on minutes before the cab stopped again and Riddick ushered her out onto the pavement.
He carried her up the steps and into a warm building. Nudging the door open with his hip, she took long strides into the bathroom and placed her roughly into a tub as he twisted the hot water tap and let it sluice over her body. It seemed to reverse whatever Lector had used for she began to have the tingling sensation of blood returning.
Her eyesight cleared so she could see him now. He was just as she remembered. Still strong and dark. Still devastatingly handsome with the dark glittering eyes and firm mouth. He wasn't wearing his goggles, and later she realized that was how he could sense her.
She heard him muttering something though she still couldn't make out his voice; she heard it and it gave her partial comfort. The warmth fluttered up her legs and into her stomach almost like the burn you get after drinking too much whiskey.
"It's alright Jackie," He was saying softly though he knew she probably couldn't understand him yet. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you" She was withering in the water, which was a good sign; she was feeling the heat that was enough to scald.
Her lips became unfrozen and the heat too unbearable. She started to moan, softly at first, then louder until it began a half-scream. He lifted her out of the water and stripped away the wet clinging clothes.
He pretended not to notice her lithe body and the interesting scar on her upper thigh, and wrapped her in a white towel. Her skin was turning the color of strawberries and her eyes were clear and wide.
"Riddick," She croaked softly. He looked down at her as he placed her in the bed and stripped the blankets away to cover her bare skin. "What?" He asked almost brashly as he checked her for any serious cuts. "Why did you help me?" She asked.
Riddick seemed to hesitate, he opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then simply brushed her damp hair away from her forehead and said "Go to sleep Jackie, you've had a long day"
Making sure she was fast asleep, Riddick rose and paced the room slowly. Why had he helped her? He wasn't sure; he didn't even know what she had down and who was in fact the man that had been chasing her?
He didn't know. All he knew was that when he saw the way Jack looked, he had the need to protect her. He needed to. She looked pretty; he had to admit to himself. The last time that he had seen her, she was little more then a girl, now she was a woman with delicate curves and under the dirt, an alluring scent.
He settled himself in a chair that faced a steel-framed window and sighed as he rested his head on his fist. It was near one in the morning and sleep had begun to take over him. He slowly fell asleep, his dreams were a mix of color and sound, but in the middle of it all, he saw Jackie.
She stood alone, looking lovely and innocent. He wanted to reach out and touch her but it felt like she was beyond his reach, like she was behind a wall of glass that he couldn't get through. It was like a foreshadowing of something to come.
"Jackie O'Brien!" A man called out into the dark. Jack crouched in the dark, her hair just a little shorter then shoulder length and the color of bottled honey. Sweat beaded on her ivory skin and the man called her name again.
She thought that when she turned 18 she should be able to stop running, stop worrying where she was going to sleep or if she was going to eat that night. It was cold, the thin clothes barely warned off the biting chill in the air. It had rained the morning before and her clothes were still damp.
The man eventually gave up and turned away, his dark cloak flapping in the breeze. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her clover green eyes darted quickly around the corners. Deciding it was safe; she stepped into the street lamp and almost immediately heard a crash behind her.
She spun around like a scared rabbit under a gun and didn't have time to scream before a strong hand clamped over her lips and roughly dragged her behind the alleyway. She struggled like a wildcat but to no avail, he was too strong for her.
She tried to bit at his hand, only catching the bitter-tasting cloth between her teeth. She stuck a sharp needle into her thin arm and she began to feel weaker by the passing minute. With one final burst of energy, she kicked her leg back and kicked him squarely in the crotch.
With a gasping breath she stumbled away him and tried to run the best she could. By using erratic zigzag patterns through the dark allies, she hoped to loose him, but whatever that he had used on her and began to take its full effect and she felt like her feet were made of led.
It took her a minute to realize that she was hopelessly lost. She had never been down this ally; she couldn't see a light or passage for escape. There was another pain shooting down her left leg, the muscles were beginning to freeze, soon she would be an immobile puddle and he would find her.
Rather to die then to let the cheap bounty hunter Pete Lector find her, she pushed herself forward. Her eyesight and beginning to gray around the edges and her lips were numb. She stumbled forward, half blind when she bumped into a rock hard object.
She felt it blindly with partly numb fingertips; she found something vaguely familiar about the touch of the cloth beneath her fingers. She recognized the smell of sweat and utter manliness. She couldn't quite place it.
Then she felt the muscles in the arms, the torso, the deep rumble of his breathe in his chest. Her lips were frozen; she couldn't say a thing except the pathetic mewling. He seemed to understand even though he didn't know what was chasing her, but he had the urge to protect the one he knew so long ago.
He spun around, shielding Jack with his body. Lector soon emerged from the shadows like a black demon, his gun cocked and ready. A shot echoed through the night but missed the mark. He didn't seem to care who he killed, just as soon as he got what he was being paid for. The papers never specified dead or alive.
There was a grunt and Riddick moved as quick and silently as a shadow. Another shot rang out but this time it was muffled by something. There was a faint moaning in the dark, but Jack couldn't tell whom it was from. Panicked, she took a step forward and fell over a body.
She reached over and gingerly touched the face. She felt the cold skin, the stubble and the warm blood; she knew instinctively it wasn't Riddick. She felt his arms come around her waist that was too thin and half carry half pull her away. There was a whistled and in a minute he hustled her into a metal cab and sat next to her.
His voice was rough like she remembered it and it would have commentated her on anther occasion, but not this one. It was only a matter on minutes before the cab stopped again and Riddick ushered her out onto the pavement.
He carried her up the steps and into a warm building. Nudging the door open with his hip, she took long strides into the bathroom and placed her roughly into a tub as he twisted the hot water tap and let it sluice over her body. It seemed to reverse whatever Lector had used for she began to have the tingling sensation of blood returning.
Her eyesight cleared so she could see him now. He was just as she remembered. Still strong and dark. Still devastatingly handsome with the dark glittering eyes and firm mouth. He wasn't wearing his goggles, and later she realized that was how he could sense her.
She heard him muttering something though she still couldn't make out his voice; she heard it and it gave her partial comfort. The warmth fluttered up her legs and into her stomach almost like the burn you get after drinking too much whiskey.
"It's alright Jackie," He was saying softly though he knew she probably couldn't understand him yet. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you" She was withering in the water, which was a good sign; she was feeling the heat that was enough to scald.
Her lips became unfrozen and the heat too unbearable. She started to moan, softly at first, then louder until it began a half-scream. He lifted her out of the water and stripped away the wet clinging clothes.
He pretended not to notice her lithe body and the interesting scar on her upper thigh, and wrapped her in a white towel. Her skin was turning the color of strawberries and her eyes were clear and wide.
"Riddick," She croaked softly. He looked down at her as he placed her in the bed and stripped the blankets away to cover her bare skin. "What?" He asked almost brashly as he checked her for any serious cuts. "Why did you help me?" She asked.
Riddick seemed to hesitate, he opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then simply brushed her damp hair away from her forehead and said "Go to sleep Jackie, you've had a long day"
Making sure she was fast asleep, Riddick rose and paced the room slowly. Why had he helped her? He wasn't sure; he didn't even know what she had down and who was in fact the man that had been chasing her?
He didn't know. All he knew was that when he saw the way Jack looked, he had the need to protect her. He needed to. She looked pretty; he had to admit to himself. The last time that he had seen her, she was little more then a girl, now she was a woman with delicate curves and under the dirt, an alluring scent.
He settled himself in a chair that faced a steel-framed window and sighed as he rested his head on his fist. It was near one in the morning and sleep had begun to take over him. He slowly fell asleep, his dreams were a mix of color and sound, but in the middle of it all, he saw Jackie.
She stood alone, looking lovely and innocent. He wanted to reach out and touch her but it felt like she was beyond his reach, like she was behind a wall of glass that he couldn't get through. It was like a foreshadowing of something to come.