Patrol 4: Storm & Calm

Chapter 13

Vania groaned as her head pounded in rhythm to an erratic pulse. She slowly opened her eyes to a strange room. She gasped and sat up, looking around frantically.

Laughter preceded the voice whispering in her mind, "Welcome home."

Vania winced. "Where am I, bitch?" she asked through gritted teeth. She glared around the room. Thick black drapes framed the windows overlooking the storm-tossed sea. A single chair sat by the fireplace. A chest of dark wood stood guard at the foot of the large bed. Vania swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, tossing the smooth sheets, edges embroidered with golden lightning bolts, backward as she walked away.

She frowned with annoyance at the black and gold robes shrouding her body, the silver waves edging the hems around her ankles while clouds and lightning bolts followed the neckline.

A knock on the door caught her attention moments before a tentative voice asked, "Mistress?"

Vania scowled and marched across the room, throwing open the door. "I'm not your mistress."

The man bowed as he responded, "Ah, yes, of course, Madam Vania. Mistress said you may be the one awake this morning."

Vania glared at the back of his head. "Where are my clothes?"

"Here, madam." He held out her elite enforcer uniform, neatly folded. "We washed them for you while you slept. Mistress said you'd want them back."

Vania snatched the clothes from his hands and slammed the door. Outside, thunder rumbled as she stripped off the robe and pulled on her uniform.

"Please, madam," the man hurried after her as she strode down the stairs. "You don't need to go. As the chosen host of our mistress, we're honored to have you. Please, stay, so we can properly attend to your needs and worship our mistress."

"Get out of my way," Vania snarled, pushing past the gaggle of priests and priestesses that swarmed her when she walked into the main temple room. "Tell your damned mistress to choose someone else to be her host. I'm not honored nor pleased to be chosen. Surely one of you would enjoy this more."

"Please, stay."

"Madam Vania, don't leave us!"

"Lady Vania, where are you going?"

"Please, honor us with your presence."

The priests and priestesses continued to plead as Vania marched toward the main doors, scowling the entire way.

"That is enough, everyone!" a man called. He waved at the crowd. "Attend to your duties. If Madam Vania chooses to depart, she may. You know the mistress won't leave us, and she'll be back in our presence soon." He caught up to Vania and smiled at her. "We won't stop you from leaving. Mistress says you're free to come and go as you please, but won't you please at least let us serve you a repast before you go?"

Vania glared at him, eyes sweeping over the black robe adorned with storm clouds and waves, a golden lightning bolt dangling from a copper chain round his neck. "I want nothing from you other than to leave. I'm not here by choice. I'm not hosting your damned mistress by choice. I am certainly not choosing to spend an extra minute longer than necessary here. If you're smart, you'll stay the hell out of my way and never try to get me to return." She whirled and walked out the door.

As Vania hurried out the arched doorway and down the stairs, leaving the black-robed priest behind, something struck her from behind, the weight landing on her upper back and claws sinking into her shoulders.

"Eluri!" Vania exclaimed. "There you are! I was worried she'd hurt you."

The lucid settled onto Vania's broad shoulder and yowled.