Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Free My Soul ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

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Free My Soul

Chapter Two

Bulma stared at her reflection in the water. She stood at the lake's edge, beneath an old, wide-branched tree as purple blossoms rained down on her. It was unlike the other stick-thin trees of Namek, and she suspected it had something to do with the magical Dragon Ball she found nestled in its roots.

Her image was watery, blurred by the tears in her sapphire eyes. She couldn't believe Vegeta was a monster. She had always known. She had seen him when he first came to Earth. The pleasure he took in the destruction of their army and the deaths of her friends. He was evil and she knew it then, but she allowed him to cast a black voodoo spell on her soul while they lay imprisoned together. The soft whispered words he murmured against her skin weren't endearments, they were binding runes. He entrapped her with his possessive touch and bronze body. His overwhelming heat ensorcelled her, taking away her memories of who and what he was so he could do with her as he pleased. So he could kiss her, touch her, worship every inch of her.

She sighed as longing shuddered through her treacherous body. Dear God, how she missed him. His heat, his touch, the burning fire in his black eyes. Even the gruff no-nonsense way he spoke to her. She missed it all, craved it so badly she ached with it. She thought she had suppressed her need for him this last year. She told herself over and over it was just circumstance, a single meaningless moment in a long lifetime. But she never forgot him. She closed herself off, drowned herself in work, turned her thoughts away from him, but she never ever forgot. Forgetting Vegeta was impossible. He was a force entirely to his own and he refused to be turned into a distant, but fond memory. He demanded to be at the forefront of her mind at all times, even when she wanted nothing more than to say goodbye.

“You cut your hair.”

Bulma gasped, nearly stumbling into the lake. She whipped around, her hands curling around the butts of the guns slung low on her hips. Vegeta stood behind her, his hand outstretched as if he was going to wind her short tresses around his fingers. At her look of shocked horror, his face became shuttered, and he dropped his hand away. Bulma could only stare at him, surprised to see him so close to her. For a split second she thought she had conjured him out of thin air by her memories of him, but the wind kicked up, and beneath the floral scent of the tree she could smell his singular, enticingly male odor.

Her gaze flickered behind him, looking for the woman who seemed never to be far behind, but he was alone. The only thing she saw was her hover bike, and the path of displaced dirt the air vents left behind. She damned herself for leaving such an obvious trail. She looked back at him, soaking in how handsome he looked in his regal armor and crimson cape. His hands were gloved, his chest protected by a thick white breastplate. He was entirely covered except for his face and the bronze glint of skin at the hollow of his throat. She didn't like this new civilized Vegeta in front of her. She preferred the naked man who shared a prison cell with her.

When she didn't respond right away, his full lips turned down at the corners. She expected to see fire flare in his dark eyes, but she saw only emptiness. She touched a distracted hand to her short hair, the longest strands coming to her chin and flaring out in all directions. She cut her hair because it was more manageable then a long tail that kept getting pulled. She tucked a strand behind her ear, suddenly panicked. She hoped to God he couldn't see the secret hidden in her eyes.

“It's easier to manage this way. Its hard putting together a nearly uninhabitable ship while your hair keeps getting caught on every little thing.”

She dropped her eyes as she spoke, stepping away from him. She glanced at the water, seeing her pale reflection. The Dragon Ball was safely tucked away in an encapsulated storage container. There was no way Vegeta would be able to find it.

“You were able to fix it though? There should have been more than enough food for you and your people until it was space worthy. You were safe.”

His last sentence was a statement, sounding like something he had been trying to convince himself of for a long time. Bulma heard the question in them, and she glanced up at him from beneath veiled lashes. She thought about the danger she had been in the last few weeks on the ship. The derision she had engendered from her fellow humans. If she hadn't escaped when she had she might not be here today.

“Sure, safe,” she agreed, barely keeping the sarcasm from her voice.

His face tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides. She watched his body give away the subtle clues to his emotions with a sort of sick fascination. Maybe it was because she was so used to looking at his naked skin for the answer to her questions, but she could read him better than other people she imagined. He was showing concern for her wellbeing. She couldn't imagine why. He left her after all.

“Where are the others?” He glanced around, looking for signs that she wasn't alone. That she was protected. His eyes eventually drifted down to her hands which were still wrapped around the handles of her weapons. One black brow winged, as he glanced back up to her face.

“Afraid?”

Something painful and raw shivered down her spine. Was she afraid of Vegeta? Should she be? He was a monster who only a few hours ago ordered the slaughter of an entire village. She was right to keep her hands on her weapons. Wasn't she?

She had no answer for his second question, so she concentrated on the first.

“It's just me.”

For the tiniest second fury rippled across Vegeta's features, and unconsciously Bulma's hands tightened on her weapons. She wanted to take another step away, but she was afraid of drawing any more of his wrath. His face smoothed out, but she could see distant fire in his eyes, and she exhaled in relief. At least now his eyes weren't dead. They were terrifying when they were empty and cold.

“What do you mean you are alone? Where is the ship? Where is that useless fuck, Kakarott?”

Bulma knew where this conversation was headed, and she needed to steer him off topic as soon as possible. The last thing she wanted him to do was ask her why she was there.

“The ship isn't operational, and Goku took off some months ago to chase after some sort of evil entity in the universe. I can only assume he meant you,” she muttered the last beneath her breath, but by the narrowed look he cast at her, he heard. She felt heat on her cheeks, and she brushed a nervous hand across her brow to distract herself from her embarrassment. She hadn't meant to sound so cruel, but she was angry with him. Angry at him for leaving her. Angry at him for what he did earlier that day. Angry at him for shattering her fragile perceptions of him being a good guy. “I'm looking for him now. What are you doing here, Vegeta?” She lifted her chin, and looked him straight in the eye, showing him she didn't regret her comment. Speak the truth her mother always said.

Vegeta's eyes sharpened, and too late she remembered that he wasn't a stupid man. He wasn't easily distracted like some of the others she knew. He glided closer to her, trapping her at the water's edge with the efficiency of a predator. She glanced around, looking for escape, but there was none.

“Same reason you are here I suppose, looking for the Dragon Balls.” He stared down into her eyes, keeping her paralyzed while he plucked a purple petal from her teal hair. She wanted to ask him why he wanted the Dragon Balls, but she was trapped by his overwhelming presence. “I'm very disappointed in you, Bulma. You are out here alone and unprotected. Do you know what kind of monsters there are in the universe?”

Bulma gulped, knowing she was looking at one such monster right now. He must have seen the truth of her thoughts in his eyes because his face darkened with shadows.

“I would never hurt you,” he swore softly, leaning closer to her. The sincerity in his tone strummed a tender cord deep inside of her from which rippled out a fierce, terrible anger. Fury so intense it threatened to choke her.

“You left me! Without word or reason. You just turned your back on me!” she exploded furiously, pushing against his breastplate. He rocked back, but didn't move. Sorrow suffocated her when she felt the smooth, cool metal beneath her hands instead of warm skin. “How could you do that to me, Vegeta?” she asked softly, suddenly as sad as she had been angry. Vegeta frowned down at her, his gloved hand encircling her wrist to keep her near.

“I left you with your friend. I left you with your people. Everyone who wanted to hurt you were either dead or gone. You were safer there than you ever could be with me,” he defended through tight lips. Bulma turned her face away, her silky hair sliding against her jaw and hiding her eyes. She didn't want to see him this way, fully clothed and lying. This was not the man she had fallen in love with a year ago.

“You care nothing of my safety, Vegeta. You never did. I was just a convenient fuck for you, and we both know it.”

His fingers tightened around her delicate wrist painfully. He pulled her in closer to him, but she kept her face averted, unable to bring herself to look at the man she had been longing for.

“Sacrificing my pride for you was never convenient, Bulma.” His words were soft. She would hazard to say they were almost a tender whisper, if it wasn't for the underlining hardness threading through them.

“Why?” she breathed in response. She couldn't stop the hot slide of a single tear down her cheek. She could only hope that Vegeta didn't see it.

“Why, what?” he asked cautiously, leaning back, while refusing to let her go.

She closed her eyes against the wave of pain. She wanted to scream at him. Why had he slept with her, sacrificed his pride as he claimed, if he just intended to leave her behind once freed? Why didn't he care for her just a little bit? Was he incapable? Or was she just weaker than him?

“Why did you leave me?” She finally responded, too chicken-shit to ask her real questions.

“I had to.” Again, no explanation, just cold, clipped words. Fury welled up inside her, turning the taste in her mouth bitter.

“And now look at you, dressed so properly, with you crimson cape of kingship. What are you now? A Lord? Do you rule the entire universe?” she sneered scathingly up at him, her eyes roving maliciously over his outfit. She tried to yank her arm away, but he pulled her closer, forcing her to look up at him. His face was shuttered with anger, but she didn't feel any fear. She kept her other hand clenched around the top of his breastplate--holding him close while simultaneously trying to get away. She slid her fingers beneath the metal, but she still couldn't feel the heat of his body.

“Not the entire universe.” His eyes were dark with hidden knowledge, and Bulma was hard pressed not to ask the questions biting at the tip of her tongue. He wanted a fight, then he was going to get one.

“Should I get down on bended knee, and worship you like the tyrant you are?” she hissed furiously, her blue eyes spitting fire at him. His gloved hands slid up her arms, capturing her beneath her elbows. He pulled her up to her toes, looking her straight in the eye so there could be no mistaking his response.

“Never. You will bow to no one for as long as I live,” his voice was rough with passion, his eyes intense. Some of the ice around her heart melted at his vow, and she felt her body soften in his grasp. There was so much she wanted to say to him. Not just words of anger, but soft intimate things. She had secrets bubbling on her lips, begging to be told, but she no longer saw a friend in front of her. She saw a stranger.

“Was it worth it?” Was being Lord worth leaving her behind? Abandoning what they had together.

His dark eyes slid away from hers, focusing at the flutter of her pulse at the hollow of her throat. Undecipherable silence stretched on between them. Bulma didn't know if he refused to answer because he didn't want to hurt her feelings or because he felt regret for his actions.

She slid her hands up his chest, framing the thick column of his neck between her fingertips. She gasped at the icy coldness of his skin. He had always been so warm to the touch, like a bronze statue in the sun, but now it felt like he was carved from a block of ice.

“Vegeta, are you ill?” She pressed her small palm across his brow, concern pinching her face when all she felt the chillness of his skin.

He pulled her hands away, not answering either of her questions. They way he averted his dark eyes made worry burst through her chest. She opened her mouth, ready to insist he tell her everything, but instead he tugged her into him, dipping his head to brush his lips across hers. Warmth spread through her. Briefly, she thought there should be some awkwardness. A kiss from him should be bitter, but it was as if the last year never happened. He touched his lips to hers, and she forgot everything.

Suddenly he pulled back, leaving her bereft somewhere deep inside. Darkness seeped into the cracks of her heart as he tilted his face towards the sky, his dark eyes searching the clouds.

“What is it, Vegeta?”

“Company,” he growled, ice cold anger wafting off him, snuffing the tiny flames in his eyes. He shoved her away, ignoring her gasp. “Leave, Bulma. You must get off this planet. Go back to your people. Go where it's safe.”

Loss hollowed a place in her heart as he pushed her away from him. With every cold, clipped word from his mouth she felt the warmth inside her from his mere presence dissipate.

“I still have business here, Vegeta,” she replied dispassionately, her eyes skittering away to watch the golden sun dance on the pale green water.

Vegeta moved quicker than she could breathe. He clamped his fingers around her upper arm in a punishing grip that made her wince.

“Leave,” he commanded, and Bulma could hear the authority in his words all the way down in her toes.

Her eyes narrowed and her chin lifted haughtily. “I am not the type of woman who can be ordered around, Vegeta. I'm not your subject. I'm not your anything. So why don't you go terrorize someone else.”

His lips twisted cruelly and his black eyes become impossibly hard. “Don't be stupid. It's not safe here.”

“I am not stupid,” she ground out, yanking her arm away from his grip. She knew she was going to have bruises in the morning, and the knowledge made her even more furious. “There isn't a safe place in the universe, Vegeta. There's nothing like having your home blown up to underscore that fact.”

Vegeta didn't reply, and Bulma wished once again he was naked. If she could just see the dance of muscles across his chest she would know what he was thinking.

“You must stay hidden, but if you ever need me you can find me here.” He thrust an electronic pad at her about the size of a PDA with coordinates. “I will give orders to my men that you are not to be harmed if they come across you, but Bulma we aren't the only ones here. Be careful, and stay out of sight.”

Before she could answer or ask any questions, he leapt into the air, streaking across the sky like a comet. She shook herself out of her daze, asking herself what had just happened. She allowed him to enchant her again. He did something to her that made her forget what a monster he was. She tucked the pad away, promising herself she wouldn't make such a mistake again.