Page 6 of Enthraller

Wren heaved in a huge,shuddering breath and leaned, face forward, against the cool stone wall of the library with both hands. She lowered her head and let her forehead rest against the stone as she got over the shock of going from a battle ground to the quiet of the Depository courtyard.

Dissipating was getting easier, at least.

The first time she’d done it, she’d vomited for an hour afterwards. Now the mild nausea faded in a few minutes.

She straightened and turned, leaning back against the wall as she got her bearings, and tried to work out what had happened at the hover port docking station.

The courtyard she stood in was at the back of the Depository and the sound of foot traffic and the whoosh of hovers was muted. There didn’t seem to be a disturbance. No small armies were searching the streets for her.

She took the few steps across the sunlit center of the courtyard to a little table with two chairs, tucked under the eaves, and sank down. She felt safe here. The Depository had become the main reason for her trips to the capital these last fewmonths, and she had eased her tired eyes and aching head in this courtyard many times. No one would remark on her being here.

She thought back to the man.

Tall, muscular. Absolutely breathtaking.

His hair had been covered over by the strange helmet with the screen, his eyes a deep, dark blue.

He had covered her body with his.

She had seen his face when the shooting started. He’d been shocked. Then angry.

He’d been set up for something. To die with her, she would guess. She had no idea why.

And then, on top of that, she had done something to him.

She had felt the nanos in her blood surge, transfer something to him, and they never did anything without a reason.

She closed her eyes and pressed her hands over her eyelids. Breathed deeply.

What did you do?She thought the words clearly in her head.

Protected you. Us.

The answer was confusing. So many of the conversations she’d had with them had been, but she thought she’d begun to understand a bit better recently. Now she felt as if she was back to square one.

Yes, they had protected herself and them—that was more or less the same thing since the day she had run for her life through the Ytla forest and stumbled across them. A long strand of silver beads, hanging like a trophy over the burnt out wreck of an old ship.

They had been swirling and blowing in the strong wind, drawing her eye, and as soon as she had been close enough for them to touch her, they had melted into her skin.

But they weren’t beads. They were little spheres of nanotech. They had been self-aware enough to explain their nature to her. And they hadn’t left her body since, except for protection. Somealways stayed within her, as an anchor, some flew out to form a protective shield, and then retreated back.

“What does protecting us have to do with the man?” she asked.

He wanted to protect you. We boosted that inclination.

He had been willing to risk his body, his life, to protect her, and she’d repaid him with a compulsion.

Or the nanotech had.

She didn’t control them fully.

Not yet.

She had a feeling she would, eventually.

But for now they were still somewhat independent, having spent too long outside of a person. They told her they had almost gone mad with the need for someone to protect, and that she had saved them.

Now they were dedicated to her wellbeing.

---