Consciousness returned slowly to Darax. It was as if his mind were swimming through a swamp, struggling to escape the murky depths of his own subconscious.
Pushing up through the sludge he finally broke the surface, though the lingering memories of strange dreams and nightmares still prowled the dark corners of his mind. On some level he was aware the nightmares had nearly driven him mad. They had been on the verge of destroying him.
‘How long was I out?’ he wondered, keeping his eyes closed and his breathing steady so as not to reveal he had woken up. It felt like days. He was in his own room, that much he was sure of. He recognized the smell of his perfumed pillow, the soft feel of silk sheets against his skin, the luxurious comfort of his down-filled mattress.
Everything else was still a blur. 'Come on, Darax. Let’s figure this out.'
Careful to avoid the horrors of his recent nightmares, Darax stretched his memory back, trying to piece together exactly what had happened to him.
The red-haired woman.
She had been waiting in his mansion when he returned home from the party. It wasn’t the first time that had happened. Beautiful women often did that – and she was as good as he’d ever had…though this was the first time his uninvited guest had tried to kill him.
Probably wasn’t really trying to kill you, he reminded himself. Seeing as how you’re still alive. They had shared a drink. That much he remembered clearly. Then it went hazy. Had she poisoned him?
He was in his own bed, in his own room. But he wasn’t alone. Someone else was there. The woman. He still had no idea why she had broken into his mansion. He couldn’t even guess why she had left him alive. But he was determined to make her regret it. And then he saw her. The red-haired woman was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed, patiently waiting for him to wake up. But why?
Maybe this time he could surprise her. Catch her off guard.
“Don't even think about trying anything,” the woman said. She was waving a blaster the size of a man's head.
Darax froze. Going to have to talk your way out of this one. Time to turn on the charm.
He opened his eyes and gave an easy laugh. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said with a shrug, sitting up in bed. He was still dressed in the same clothes he had worn to the party.
“That was quite an entrance you made last night,” he said.
“Three nights ago,” she corrected, returning his smile with a humourless stare. “I was beginning to wonder if you would be trapped in your nightmares forever.”
Her words caused his mind to momentarily flash back to the terrors he was still struggling to suppress, and he shuddered involuntarily.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen. Sorry.”
Why was she apologising? It made no sense. “What did you do to me? Some kind of drug?”
She nodded, “I came for information, that’s all. I just wanted to make sure you were alive before I left.” She stood and shrugged. “I’ve tied your legs to the bed. You’ll undo them in a while but I’ll be gone by then.”
“What information?” His voice was faltering now, what little bravado he had, ebbing away quickly.
The woman shook her head, red curls swaying slightly. “I have one deal, to get the information. We have no bargain.”
She was attractive enough…if you can get past the whole assassin, poisoner thing. “But you cared enough to make sure I lived?”
“Call it a favour. Maybe I’ll come back and collect on it one day.”
“But how did you find me?”
She just smiled and slipped out of the room.
