WarriorsandLovers by Alysha Ellis Page A

brown, shirtless form, all rippling
muscles above the battle-dress pants, for the clothing of a doctor. The woman
wore similar pants but had on a black sleeveless singlet, stretched tightly
over her impressive rack.
    They’re Dvalinn, he reminded himself, the enemy. He had no place finding anything about either of them attractive or admirable.
Anger, distaste and confusion swirled around in a disorientating mix in his
brain. He struggled to keep his face bland, his eyes blank. He needed to lull
their suspicions so he could escape, make his way back to the exit point,
detonate the explosion and get the hell out of there.
    Leaving these two and all the other inhabitants of this
world to suffer a horrible, inevitable death.
    Elijah closed his eyes and ignored the voice in his head. It
was too late for his conscience to surface now. The device was set, balanced at
the crossroads, waiting for the signal.
    His mouth went dry and horror raised goose bumps on his
skin. He’d felt the floor surge and roll. What if the case for the device had
fractured and the gas had been released? He had no idea how long the vapor
would remain lethal. His chest tightened and he panted, rapid and shallow. Was
this his last breath? Or this one? Or the next?
    “Are you all right?”
    The woman’s question acted like a slap. Lije blinked and
forced himself to calm down. The entire Dvalinn world depended on one central
air circulation system, so the air in this small room would be the same as the
air outside in the tunnels. There were filtration plants at frequent intervals
but they wouldn’t be effective against the gas Hopewood used. The whisper of
fresh air on his cheek reassured Elijah that the vials of chemicals in their
plastic case were still intact.
    “I don’t give a fuck how he feels. I want answers.” The male
half of the pair spoke, his mouth turned down with an overdose of grim. He was clearly
the more dangerous. The woman seemed more approachable, more prepared to take a
neutral stand. He could work with her. Convince her he was injured and harmless.
    “Argh! My head.” He screwed his face into a grimace of pain.
It wasn’t hard—his head hurt. He’d hit the rock wall damn hard and he’d been
out cold.
    The woman responded exactly as he’d hoped. “Is there
anything I can do?”
    She tried to take a step toward him but the man refused to
let her go.
    “You could tell me where I am,” Elijah replied.
    “Where do you think you are?” the man asked, his tone low
and threatening.
    “I don’t know,” Elijah lied. If he were an innocent human
victim of some inexplicable mishap, he would have no idea the Dvalinn people
existed. All his responses had to support that scenario. It would be
interesting to see how much of the truth these people would tell him.
    “You’re in a safe room,” the woman offered.
    “Safe from what?” he asked.
    “The thermo-magnetic storm.” With one more tug, the woman
managed to free herself and took a step nearer to the bed. “I’m Eora and this
is Nieko. When the storm hit you were stranded in the passageway. You hit your
head and I heard you call out. I opened the door and pulled you inside, where
you’d be safe.”
    “Thank you,” Elijah said, and discovered he meant it.
Although he couldn’t admit it, his memory of those few minutes when everything
he knew about physics was overturned was clear and devastating. He needed to
know what kind of phenomenon could cause solid rock to roll like a wave.
“What’s a thermo-magnetic storm?”
    “You don’t know?” the woman, Eora, asked. “You must have
seen one before.” She hesitated for a moment. “Although if you had, you might
not have hit your head so hard. You’d have been prepared for the effect.”
    “What effect?” He had to ask, although he thought he knew
some of the answer.
    “The magnetic field gets distorted and it messes with your
brain and balance centers. It’s common for people caught outside a shielded
room to