by Jake Stone
“I’ll be sure to remember that,” I say with a nod.
“But not bad, though, eh?” He nudges me in the ribs with a grin. “Some of the finest women on the planet. I don’t know how he does it. But he gets them—the finest there is. ”
“A little too sleepy for my taste,” I reply, unable to hide my disdain.
“Oh, you’re a traditionalist, eh? I gotcha. Personally, I could do with a little late-night struggle between the sheets. But don’t worry. It’s just a little toxin to keep the girls in a playful mood. Wears off after a little while for the fun stuff to occur. But I guess I should’ve guessed that a young man such as yourself wouldn’t be into easy prey, eh? Especially when you roll with these lovelies.”
He glances at the women’s bodies, his gaze sweeping over their six-pack abs and long toned legs. The amazement on his face is undeniable. I can only imagine what disgusting thoughts crawl through his sick mind. “How do you keep them so…fit? You must be fucking them all day!”
For a moment, I’m tempted to tell him that they’re Purifiers, that they’re specially trained soldiers who could murder him in a second if they wanted to. But I don’t. I can’t break cover. Not now. Not when we’re so close to finding Rachel.
“It’s an exercise regimen,” I admit with a shrug. “A special program I concocted. Don’t really like to talk about it much, though.”
He slaps me on the back with a laugh, a little too hard for my taste. “A man with his secrets, eh? I hear ya. We all gotta keep our little tricks of the trade. Gotta keep them close to the chest. Especially during these troubling times. Competition rampant; supply on the low, low. Talk of…” His voice falls to a whisper. “Demons… Say no more, my friend. Know exactly how you feel.”
Vendal eventually leads us toward the back, where a group of mercenaries is arrayed around a table. The sight of it reminds me of a celebrity rapper holding court in the VIP section of a strip club.
The chief guard, a surly-looking human with close-cropped hair and dark eyes, stands apart from the guards to greet Vendal, his hand falling to his sidearm. It’s then, as he steps into the light of the globe above him, that I recognize him.
Danzin—Skarteck’s second in command.
“What do you want?” Danzin asks. “The man’s busy.”
“Even for an old friend?”
“Friend?” Danzin snorts. “That’s a new one.”
“Tell the man I’m here on business.”
“What sort of business would he want with the likes of you?”
“Not with me,” Vendal says, lowering his voice. “With my friend over here.”
Danzin’s eyes narrow as he takes me in, and I see the confusion on his face as he studies my lean frame and young features. I bow my head in reaction, shading my eyes with the brim of my hat so he won’t recognize me. Thankfully, he doesn’t.
Instead, he’s distracted by my companions. Their beauty overshadows his memory, and I’m suddenly relieved when he asks me who I am.
“Pimp-Daddy-King…” Vendal answers for me, “from Earth.”
I bow my head, embarrassed. Why did I pick such a stupid fucking name?
Danzin frowns. “Never heard of you, Pimp-Daddy...whatever the fuck, or your stinking planet. Now fuck off.”
I feel my chances of success dwindling before my eyes, as Vendal lets out a defeated sigh. “At least we tried,” he says with a shrug. “But don’t worry, my good man. There’s always more women on the sand I say. Perhaps I could convince you on a pair of twins from Slagtra? They’re very tall and very slim.”
He’s already leading me away when I begin to feel as though my life is slipping away. I can’t just leave. Not now, not when I’m so close to finding Rachel. Pulling away, I march back to him.
“I’m looking for an off-worlder,” I blurt out, quieting the room.
Danzin’s head swivels slowly in my direction, his hand tightening on his sidearm. I’ve made a mistake. I’ve played my cards. What have I done? Just before I think he’s about to shoot me, I hear a familiar voice.
“Let him through.”
The voice is raw, biting. If a snake could speak, this is what it would sound like.
Danzin and his guards stand aside, creating a path for me to enter. I pass through with my chin raised high. And there, sitting behind the table with two lovely young slave girls at his sides, the man with the robotic jaw greets me with a sneer.
“Hello, young friend,” Skarteck says. “How can I be of service to you?”
The sight of this turd-fuck makes me so angry that all my fear suddenly flies away. The second I get to kill this man I will. But first thing’s first.
“I’m looking for a girl,” I say, my voice as deep as I can make it.
“Well, my friend, you came to the right man.” He lifts an arm from one of the women’s shoulders—a young blond with perfect tits who begins to laugh at me—and reaches for a full bottle of cranish from the table. The other woman—a tall brunette with a thin nose—struggles to stay awake. They’re lost under the spell of the sedative, swimming in their own minds.
“That’s good to hear,” I say. “Because the woman I’m looking for is outstanding.”
“All of my girls are outstanding,” he says, caressing the brunette’s face as if it was a masterpiece.
“I can see that,” I say. “But this one’s from off-world.”
He turns to me, his face tightening under the light of the oil lamps. “Women like that are extremely difficult to come by. Very expensive.”
“I’ve got the money.”
He looks past me at my companions, his eyes growing dark as he notices Atia’s incredible beauty, her body barely clothed beneath her black bra and thong. “With taste like yours, I’m sure you do.”
“Do you have her or not?” I press.
Conversation with the devil is a dangerous thing. And I know enough about myself to realize that I’ll lose this battle if I keep going. I have to ride the wave, use the momentum I’ve built like a battering ram. Anything less, and I’ll be left to die outside on the field.
“Sure,” he says sharply.
I’ve irritated him. Good. Usually, I would’ve been scared to piss off someone of his power. But his resentment tells me that he’s bought my facade. He thinks I’m the real deal.
“But not here,” he says. “In the back. Come with me.”
I watch as his bodyguards pull the table aside, allowing him to rise with ease. The women at his sides slink over, falling to the carpeted floor, where they quickly fall asleep.
Skarteck, his guards flanking him, motions for me to follow.
“Wait,” I say. “What about my girls?”
He sniffs. “Leave them here. They’ll be here when you get back.”
I glance at Atia, Zorel, and Petronelous, watching as some of the other slavers are already crowding around them. They inspect their legs and asses and firm breasts, completely disregarding eye contact even as they look over their faces.
“Sorry if I don’t trust you,” I say. “But I don’t leave jewels amongst jewel thieves.”
Skarteck smiles, amused. “Excellent point. I see why you have such a stable of gorgeous slaves at such a young age. Very well, then. Let them through.”
I feel a sense of relief as the girls are allowed to walk forward to join me. Wrapping a hand around their chains, I grip the cold metal as tightly as I can. It’s a demeaning tool, I know. But it’s also my only connection to them, and I vow to never let them go as long as I’m alive. “After you,” I finally say to Skarteck.
The guards pull a pair of black velvet curtains aside, the same material as the walls, and lead us through a pattern of makeshift hallways.
The tent is sectioned off. We only walk a few steps before we’re treated to the sight of a different room where six of the prettiest slave girls I’ve seen so far are standing before a metal pole, their hands chained above their heads.
The women are dressed in different colored
bikinis, showing off their voluptuous bodies. I notice the care that the slavers have taken to make them look presentable. Their hair is done up, their necks and wrists are adorned with jewels. These are the showpieces of the auction, I realize, the expensive diamonds put aside for the big spenders.
In the center, drawing the most attention for her beauty, I see what I’ve come for.
Rachel…
It takes every part of me to keep from leaping out at her. The force is overwhelming. I want to scream, to rush out, to throw my arms around her and tell her that I’m sorry, that I’ll get her out of this hell even if it means my life. But I can’t. I need to stay cool. I need to stick with the plan. But it’s tougher than anything I’ve ever had to do.
As if sensing my conflict, I feel one of the chains in my hand begin to tug. Following its lead, I find Zorel shaking her head at me so subtly that I barely notice it. Don’t do it, she’s warning me.
“Here it is,” Skarteck says, drawing me from my rage. “The six most beautiful flowers of my garden. Each unique in their own way, but each able to fuck your brains out.”
“How do you know?” I quickly ask.
My brusqueness draws his attention. He becomes guarded. “So, I imagine,” he amends.
“They haven’t been touched?”
“Not these babies,” he says. “These are too rich for my blood. Take a look for yourself.”
I take my time as I examine each one, doing my best to appear interested. Their heads hang forward, lost in the sedative swimming in their veins. When I reach Rachel, I stop. Her scent is rich with perfume, and the smell of candy rises from her long slow breaths.
Checking her porcelain skin, I see that there are no bruises on her arms, no cuts. Only the smooth glide of fruity oil. She’s been taken care of, or as well as a slave can be for that matter.
The sides of her thong have been yanked up over her wide hips, accentuating the curves of her hourglass frame, and her large breasts are pressed so tightly under her ridiculously small top that they’re threatening to fall out. She stirs with a tiny gasp and I see her eyes begin to flutter. I turn away before she can see me.
“This one,” I say.
His brow furrows. “That was quick.”
I shrug. “What can I say, I’m a man who knows what he likes.”
“I can see that,” Skarteck says. “But the girl’s already been spoken for. Pick another.”
“I’ll pay you more.”
He laughs. “That would be quite difficult.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’d have to give me something more than gold.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t care. Pick another.”
Desperate, I reach for the bag of coin Atia gave me and hold it out for him. His eyes grow beady with suspicion. I’m being too anxious.
“Where did you say you were from again?”
“Earth,” I say.
His head angles to the side as he begins to examine my face, his tongue picking at a piece of meat still lodged between his metal teeth. “You look…familiar.”
“I guess I just have one of those faces,” I say, fighting to remain calm.
“No,” he says. “There’s something else…” He scratches his neck as he starts to think, trying to remember. My heart begins to race, and I can feel my scalp pulsating with heat. He’s going to remember who I am. He’s going to figure it out.
Luckily, Danzin marches in on us. He strides into the room with a hand on his sidearm, mad dogging me as he sidles up to his master. “The buyer will be here soon,” he tells him. “Want me to wrap her up?”
Skarteck keeps me in his gaze as he considers his options. “No,” he says. “Give me a second. Go back outside and keep me informed. I’m having fun over here. Tell me, young man. How far are you willing to go to get this lovely flower?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“The price,” he says. “What are you willing to pay?”
“Name it,” I say, holding out the bag of coin again for him to take.
He laughs. “I’m not talking coin, boy. I’m talking trade.”
“Trade?”
“That’s right,” he says turning to Atia and the girls. “A flower for a flower.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I can’t,” I say.
“Then we have no deal.”
I look back at Rachel, her head tilting to the side as she lets out another low moan. She looks so precious there, so fragile, like a piece of crystal sliding off the edge of a bed. Now that I’m looking at her, it feels as if no time has passed. She’s more real to me than ever. But still…I can’t betray my companions. There’s no way. They’ve already done so much for me. I need to think of something else.
“There has to be another way,” I say.
“There isn’t,” he says cruelly. “You either let me pick one of yours or the deal’s off.”
I look back at the girls, finding them staring at me in concern. Never have I ever felt so much responsibility in my life. I have to make the right decision—for all of us.
“You don’t understand,” I say. “I need this girl.”
“Then the decision should be easy.”
“It isn’t.”
His robotic jaw hinges shut as he grows impatient, and I can see the cogs of his dirty brain working. I can’t let him make the connection.
“Here’s what I have,” I say, pulling out my bag, trying to distract him with coin. “I’m sure it’s enough to buy three of your girls.”
“She’s not worth three of my girls. She’s worth ten of them.”
I grit my teeth at the truth of it. I hate the fact that I’m not the only one who knows Rachel’s worth. It’s in that moment that I see Danzin entering the room again, his face pensive, his hand tight on his pistol.
He whispers into Skarteck’s ear. The slaver’s face quickly hardens. He doesn’t like what he’s hearing. He turns to me and smiles, showing me his metal jaw again. “Good news, friend.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“It appears you won’t have to make a decision after all,” he says.
“And why’s that?”
“Cause you didn’t know password.”
I look back at the exit, finding the guards we’d first met outside the auction standing with Danzin. They stare at me, speaking in hushed tones. From the exit, more guards appear. They quickly surround us drawing their guns and aiming them at our heads.
“What the fuck’s going on?” I demand.
“I thought there was something strange about you,” Zorbek says as he circles me. “But I couldn’t place it at first. But now, I remember. You’re no slaver. You’re the off-worlder we found with this one, the one who killed Grim and Gromm.”
I reach for my gun, ready to shoot him in the face, but my hand is stayed as I feel the barrel of cold metal pressing against my temple. “Put it down,” Danzin warns.
I do as he says, my hands quickly rising.
Behind me, my companions try to move, but they’re held in place by a row of guns pointed in their direction. Even Zorel, an elemental who doesn’t need a weapon to kill everyone in this place, must realize that even she’s not fast enough to clear the room before Atia or Petronelous takes one in the head. We’ve lost.
“You’re brave,” Skarteck says. He punches me in the face and I’m spun around, so hard that I quickly fall to the floor, dizzy. “You actually had me fooled.” He kicks me in the gut, and I feel the bile in my stomach nearly explode out of my throat. “And in my own tent no less. Biggest balls I’ve ever seen.”
“You kidnapped her!” I scream, glaring up at him with all my hate. “You took her against her will!”
“All women are taken someway or another,” he replies calmly in a low voice. “My way’s just more effective. It cuts out all the bullshit.”
My head flies back as he kicks me in the face. It’s worse than the other strikes, an
d I feel my nose burning from the blood that’s leaking out of it.
I crawl along the carpet, lost in my direction. I need to get up. I need to help Rachel, Atia, Zorel, Petronelous. I have to protect them.
“What do you want me to do with him?” I hear Danzin ask.
“Take him,” Skarteck answers. “We can try to feed him to the mutants again. Right now, there’s no time. The buyer will be here soon.”
“And the girls?” Danzin asks.
“Take them too. They’ll fetch a good price.”
I struggle as we’re thrown into another part of the tent, a darker room where they keep strange animals like a pig pen. The reek of shit is thick in the air, and I do whatever I can not to breathe in the stench.
“Get up against the wall,” one of the men orders. A short bastard with warts on his face, he’s still one of the better-looking guards compared to the mercenary fucks guarding the outside.
I grimace as he snaps the cuffs around my wrists. But say nothing in turn. Defenseless, I know it’s best to stay quiet. Unfortunately, Petronelous disagrees.
“Don’t touch me, you bastard!”
I watch in terror as the guard balls a hand into a fist, readying to punch her in the stomach.
“Hey, Fuck head!” I scream, stopping him just in time.
He turns.
“Yeah, you heard me, fuck-head. Why don’t you come over here and suck my dick.”
A sadistic grin tears across his face as he stares at me. He’s stumbled onto a prize—a pet who’s acted up. “What’d you say?” he asks, drawing closer to me.
I swallow, realizing how bad I’ve just fucked up. Well, can’t back down now. Might as well go the whole way. “You heard me, Wart-face.”
I wheeze as he punches me in the gut, forcing the lungs from my air and sending a jolt of pain through my entire body. The next punch hits me in the face, nearly breaking my jaw. It’s only when one of the other guards walks in carrying a large chest of jewels that he stops.
“Oy, stop playing with the merchandise,” he says, plopping the chest down in the corner. “And get back to work.”