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ground around her, and her body jolted in surprise. Three forms sat cross-legged at the foot of
the slab, their bodies bent far forward nearly in half, heads bowed, arms extended outward and
toward her, their fingers forming a triangular pattern. She'd seen that symbolic gesture before--
the delta. I'm so not going to entertain that right now.
"Who are you?" Sydney asked. The sound of her own words were obscured by a slight
ringing, making her wonder if she d spoken loud enough for them to even hear her.
They did.
Three heads popped upward. Three female faces filled with awe and surprised eyes that
seemed to shimmer with gold fixated on her. Sydney stared back, not knowing what to think,
say or do, other than to slap her hands over her naked breasts. Murmuring sounds came from
their mouths, wispy and indecipherable. It didn t matter. Sydney had a feeling they weren t
speaking English anyway. The jungle-pattern wraps they wore, bare feet and a quick
examination of the tropical surroundings was a pretty good indication that she was somewhere
foreign--or alien.
Oh snap & not happening & don't go there!
Fighting against her protesting muscles, Sydney struggled to her knees while gathering
the drape to cover her needless exposure. She glared at the uninvited company. All three
seemed to shutter and gasped in sync. Simultaneously they dropped their heads as if gazing
upon her was blasphemous. It made her wonder if snot was hanging from her nose or if perhaps
her zipper was down. Ah, but she had no zipper & .
Because she had no clothes on damn it!
"What the hell?" Sydney mumbled while tying a knot with the top ends of the thin cloth
to hold it in place above her breasts.
She scooted from the slab, wincing at sore muscles forced to stretch in what seemed like
the completely wrong direction. With her teeth tightly clenched and her eyes remaining fixed on
the three subjects Sydney struggled to remember her training.
Protocol--What is the military protocol when taken prisoner? She scratched her head
while doing a mental run-through of the memorized military handbook--name, rank, and social
security number.
Sydney studied the natives and the lowered postures they had assumed. It appeared she
really was being revered. She snorted aloud with the thought, which was followed by the gritting
of her teeth. An anguished groan followed as pain ran sharp in her ears. To add to Sydney s
discomfort, her head was beginning to pound. It occurred to her then that she had some pain
Trigon Rituals III: Dominance Fury Angelia Whiting 40
killers along with her .&
My meds! Oh my god, my meds! Panic shot through her. Sydney's prescription meds
were in the pocket of her flight suit. Without her precious meds she was doomed! DOOMED!
First priority & locate flight suit--just as soon as she got a clue as to where in the stars
she was and how she might go about doing that. At the moment her instincts told her it would be
best to refrain from pissing anybody off. She also sensed that when in Rome & yadda yadda &
might be a good rule of thumb for the time being. Lifting her arms, Sydney held her hands in
front of her face and mimicked the triangular pattern the natives created with their thumbs and
fingers, something she'd done hundreds of times as a child & something she again wasn't ready
to entertain the thought of.
"Take me to your lead& y-e-e-o-w-w-w-w-w!" Sydney yelped and pressed her palms to
her ears seeking relief.
Three sets of peepers widened further at her tormented cry. Oh agony! The pain was a
bitch! Talking loudly wasn't such a good idea. Tears welled in Sydney's eyes, but she
swallowed them, determined to refrain from showing any signs of weakness or incapacitation. A
streak of fear zipped through her chest, however, when the woman in the middle stood and
rushed toward Sydney. She halted at nearly arms length away, her body stiffened, hesitating as
if coming any closer might be unwise or improper, or something.
She spoke. Buzz, buzz buzz buzz buzz? At the same time she averted her gaze in an
almost subservient manner. Sydney stared at the woman's mouth, wishing she could read lips.
The words were a muffled mess.
"I can't hear." Sydney pointed to her ears, whimpering at the pain her own muffled
whisper caused. "They hur& "
"Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz." The woman pointed to the sky and then flapped her arms
like a bird.
"You're the woman who found me," Sydney surmised. It didn't take much consideration
to realize the indigenous female must've seen her ejecting from the crashing star jet and thought
it was a bird. But who did the native woman think she was?
"Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!" The woman raised her voice and pointed to the altar.
Sydney s head throbbed harder. Her ears pounded, and she groaned as her already sore
body suddenly felt weak. What little energy she had rapidly drained away, and suddenly it didn t
matter who these people were or who they thought she was. She just wanted to sleep.
"Yes," she swayed while reaching for the slab to steady herself. "I need to lie down."
Sydney plopped her butt back onto the altar and the woman smiled slightly as if she was
pleased to see that Sydney was going to rest. Stepping closer, she leaned over and brushed aside
a lock of hair that had fallen over Sydney's face. It was then that Sydney was able to get a good
look at the woman s eyes. Pastel green, or something similar to that, but a color like she had
never seen before & at least on Earth. Sydney blinked slowly trying to comprehend what she
was seeing.
& Or imagining.
A circle of silver framed her irises--sparkling like the garland used on Christmas trees.
Sydney decided to think about the oddity of her eye color later. At the moment she was in too
much pain. With a grunt, she reclined to her side and drew up her knees. She expected the flat
stone to be cool, but it wasn't. Instead, she felt comforting warmth that strangely seemed to also
be medicinal. Her pain seemed to fade. A sigh escaped Sydney with the welcomed relief. Pink
skies, weird eyes--Oh, Sydney groaned. Her visual perception was making no sense. Propping
Trigon Rituals III: Dominance Fury Angelia Whiting 41
to her elbows she stared across the lengthy field of burgundy grasses.
The Delta & this isn't happening. I must be dreaming.
Her eyes drifted shut and then opened again. She closed them once more. Her mind
drifted into and out of consciousness but she was aware that time was passing. She slept and
then awoke, her lids lifting, her head pivoting from one side to the other to focus on the reality
around her. She inhaled and stilled, her sights training on the open field to make sense of what
she thought she might be seeing. Sydney saw movement and blinked a few times before
realizing that there were people moving toward them, sauntering almost, slowly, like wildcats
creeping up on prey, except they walked upright. Sydney blinked again. They were male, at [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]