Her sleep was a mass of disturbing dreams, twisting and turning within her mind. She saw Marian, and Anya, Sharlot and Willem, and Willa, and Baron Praxis with his glowing laser sword raised high above his head, bringing it crashing down onto Natasha and leaving her there bleeding…. Ashelin could hear herself screaming and screaming. This wasn't happening, Natasha was dead….
…and then she saw Halland, in the robes of a Bahzre priest, splattered with the blood from the goat they had sacrificed…. "NO!"
Her scream awakened every one of the refugees who had bedded down in the tiny dormitory for that night. There was confusion, but she was oblivious to it. Sleep sought her once again, and she fell back onto her bed, too weak to get up.
…………………………………..
"Ashelin, wake up." She didn't want to respond to the voice that entered her dreams. "Ashelin – wake up!" She ignored it again. It was so nice here, so warm….
Someone shook her, hard, and she jolted awake. "Oh, god…" she muttered. It felt like someone had stuck pins in every part of her body.
"Someone's a little hung over, I see." It was the scarred woman who usually took care of her. Ashelin had never heard her talk before this, and her voice was a surprise. It was a pretty voice, and it seemed alien on this individual. "Did Torn get you drunk?"
"I got drunk on my own," she muttered sullenly. "What do you want?"
The woman snorted. "That's a fine thing to say to someone who's been taking care of you."
"Sorry," Ashelin murmured. "What time is it?"
"It's about 10:30… at night."
"Did I sleep for a WHOLE DAY?" Ashelin gasped. She didn't know if she'd ever slept that long, even after drinking.
"Two days." The woman tried unsuccessfully to hide her amusement.
Ashelin sighed. "Now it's night and I know I'm not going to sleep any more…" She got out of bed, and realized she was still in the clothes she had worn several days ago. "I need a shower, and some clean clothes," she said. "Can you help with that?"
The woman nodded, apparently going back to her old policy of silence. She led Ashelin first to a closet, and gave her a towel and dressing gown. Then she walked down a long hallway Ashelin hadn't noticed before, to a stone room with several showers along a wall.
"Pass your clothes out to me, and then lock the door behind you," was the woman's murmured instruction before she left.
Ashelin gave the woman her dirty clothes, and did her best to lock the door. She pushed in the button until she heard a click, but just as she turned around it popped open again. "Goddamn it," she muttered, pushing the button again. This time it stayed, and she turned and stepped into the shower.
The water was icy cold, but she did her best to ignore the cold that made her skin feel tight and her teeth chatter. She concentrated only on scrubbing herself with the cake of hard soap as quickly as she could. The water, coming through old pipes, made a sound like a dull roar, and Ashelin didn't hear a sound as the button on the lock popped open again with a snap.
She didn't hear the door open, and she didn't see the person who stepped inside.
Ashelin stepped out of the shower, her head still aching, and reached for her towel. She didn't see Torn right away. He was staring in awe at her, this goddess who had just come from the shower. He hadn't had a clue who was in there – it could've been anyone in the Underground – and the door hadn't been locked when he had come in!
She noticed him after only a few seconds. He should have averted his eyes, but he hadn't. He was staring openly. She gasped, and flung up the towel to cover herself. Torn himself was only in his boxers, and she tried to hide the fact that she was staring at his body as well. Even with a few battle scars, he was buff, and she took in his appearance appreciatively.
He was glad he had his towel around his waist to hide his body's reaction to seeing her like this. "Hello," she murmured self-consciously. "I'll… be going now…" The look in his eyes scared the hell out of her.
He crossed the room in a single bound, a leap toward her. She backed away, cowering, but his touch was gentle as he took her in his arms. "You just looked so sad," he murmured, pulling her close. She let him; she supposed she could trust him.
His touch was warm and comforting, and she leaned against him. It was nice to be held in human arms again, and although her head seemed to be spinning, she was able to think enough to decide, "What else is left to lose?"
She tilted her head up, and her lips met his in a kiss. He gasped, taken slightly by surprise. I shouldn't do this, he thought. I shouldn't, I shouldn't…He went from thinking to just feeling as she slid her tongue between his lips, into his mouth. He returned the favor, and for a few moments they were content to just explore each other's mouths. This wasn't like the last time they had kissed. That time, there had been a certain innocence that no longer existed between them: they had experienced too much. This time they kissed with a feverish wanting to be satisfied.
The towel covering Ashelin's naked body had long since fallen away, and there was nothing but skin between the two of them. His arms were around her, and a sigh rose from her lips as he moved his hands along her hips, up, encircling her waist, coming up to stroke her full breasts.
…………………………………………………
It was very brief, this burst of passion, brief and unplanned. When it was over, Ashelin was backed up against the cold cement wall. Her back was bruised from being pushed against the wall by his violent thrusts. This wasn't supposed to happen, she thought wildly. It was never supposed to happen! She hung her head, ashamed at what she had just done.
Torn didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He looked at her bowed head, and she looked so sad that he was tempted to offer comfort – but for what? They had both lost control.
When several minutes had passed and neither of them said anything, he pulled on his clothes and left. Screw the shower, he thought, I've got to get out of here.
Ashelin sank to her knees on the damp floor. "I thought you could make me feel complete," she murmured.
She had been so wrong.
…………………………………………….
"Ashelin?"
It was the woman with the scars. "Yeah?" Ashelin said. She was no longer on the floor. She had gotten up and sat, wrapped in a towel, for what seemed like forever.
"I have your clothes." The woman handed her a small bundle of clothing.
Ashelin managed a stiff smile. "Thank you," she said softly. The woman turned to leave. "Wait!" Ashelin called.
"Yes?"
"What is your name?" she asked.
"Raziel," the woman answered.
"Ah," Ashelin nodded. Unable to force herself to make more conversation, she busied herself dressing. She planned to leave, and she did not plan to return.
