Free No Light by Devi Mara Page B

jaw clenched in fear. She took a small step backwards, looking around the room. He glanced over his shoulder and she froze. She watched his nostrils flare. He let out a sound of amusement and turned to face her.
                  "Are you afraid, child?" His head tipped to the side, as he watched her.
                  "I'm not a child," she said softly. It seemed to take him a moment to register she had disagreed with him. She watched his eyes narrow.
                  "Answer my question, human." He took a step toward her, shortening the distance by a quarter.
                  "No." She tensed when he took another step, the distance between them already halved. "I'm not afraid."
                  "I will not tolerate lies from you," he growled.
                  Between one blink and the next, he was in front of her. She tipped her head back, her mouth opening and closing. He gave a sharp shake of his head. She bit back a cry at his hand around her throat. She frowned at him in confusion, when his fingers did not tighten. He ignored her face, his eyes on where his hand wrapped around her throat loosely.
                  "I could break your neck with no effort," he said, seemingly to himself.
                  She swallowed nervously.
                  His eyes followed the movement, before rising to her face. "Wait outside." The strange look faded from his eyes to be replaced by the usual expression of loathing.
                  She ran. When the door to the shower room closed behind her, she leaned against it heavily. Her chest convulsed as if her heart was trying to escape. The frantic beating hurt and she let out a soft whimper, her knees giving out as she slid to the floor. For long moments, she simply stared at the dark screens of the cells somehow knowing they were empty.
                  She turned her head to press her burning cheek against the cold metal. In increments, she regained control of her heartbeat, the pace slowing from a furious buzz to individual beats. She let the air out of her lungs in a loud sigh. With a measure of calm, she sat up straight, pressing her back flat against the door.
                  She frowned thoughtfully, absently rubbing her damp palms on her suit. The Dem's behavior was strange. She chewed her lip, trying to understand the change. It was small, but significant. She pushed herself to her feet and wandered toward the bench. Where there had been only hatred in Farran's gaze, there seemed to be something else.
                  With a sigh of confusion, she dropped down on the hard stone. She let her gaze wander the corridor, as she absently pulled the pins from her hair. Like a fall of water, it cascaded down her back. The pressure at the base of her skull immediately faded and she slumped on the bench. She reached up to pull some her hair forward over her shoulder.
                  She looked down at her pale fingers combing through the deep auburn strands. The individual tendrils twisted around her fingers and she smiled slightly. Her muscles slowly relaxed at the steady combing. As her eyes started to drift shut, she suddenly remembered the Dem's ruined suit. She jerked her head, wincing at the sharp tug to her hair.
                  She looked around the corridor, shaking her hand free of the clinging strands. Her eyes landed on the supply closet. She tucked her hair pins in her pocket and hurried over to search the small space. The door held no scanner. She pulled it open, grunting at the weight of the manual door. She slipped inside.
                  Sensing her presence, an overhead light blinked to life. She quickly scanned the shelves on her right. Nothing but cleaning supplies. Coiled chains filled the shelves in front of her. She stepped further into the room to search the shelves to her left and paused.