For a moment Lady Wraith’neck looked incredulous. When she saw Neh’sa was serious, her expression became one of defiant anger.
“Oh? And how would you do that Neh’sanna? You have no friends in high places—not now that the Grande Dame knows what kind of illegal activity you’ve been up to.” She smirked.
“I don’t need friends in high places,” Neh’sa snapped. “I have other resources. Have you ever stopped to think, Malisha, how many downtrodden, starved, and mistreated males come through my Mercy clinic on any given night? And how grateful they are for even just a little bit of kindness—a bit of care their own Mistresses are too busy or too harsh to give them? I believe we’ve treated slaves belonging to you many times.”
Lady Wraith’ neck frowned.
“I’m afraid I still don’t understand. Are you threatening not to treat my slaves anymore? Because frankly, I couldn’t care less. Let them die—I can always buy more.”
“I know you don’t care about anyone but yourself but many others do. And the males who come through my clinic are appreciative—so appreciative, in fact, that if someone was to suggest they find a certain Mistress with an especially sadistic nature—one who has hurt several of their number over and over again, well they might just—”
“Stop!” Lady Wraith’neck was wide-eyed with shock. “How dare you? I can’t believe you’d threaten me!”
“I haven’t,” Neh’sa said coolly. “I’m just telling you what could happen if I feel Thorn’s pain and know a pain collar is responsible for it. I’ll be watching you.” She removed the key to Thorn’s collar, which she wore around her neck on a chain, and thrust it at the other Mistress. “This collar had better be replaced by one just as painless or I’ll know,” she said and swept from the room before the spluttering Lady Wraith’ neck could frame an answer.
She didn’t look back at Thorn although she wanted to so badly her stomach twisted in knots.
He’s gone, she told herself. Gone out of your life as surely as Heroth is. Forget him now, Neh’sa—all you can do is forget him.
But somehow her heart refused to listen.
Chapter Twenty-three
“I am pleased to announce that we have a new member of the Sacred Seven to help care for and protect the legacy of the Yonnite Library of All Knowledge.” Grand Dame Thrust’much’s voice rang out across the vast marble porch which encircled the massive building the Library was housed in. A crowd of Mistresses and their body-slaves filled the courtyard around the large building to overflowing. Apparently the investiture of a new member of the Sacred Seven was a prime social event.
Thorn watched the ceremony unfold from the back of the porch in stoic silence. His back was a mass of bruises and welts and the rest of him was pretty fucking sore as well. Lady Wraith’neck had had some fun with him the night before. Fun from her point of view anyway…
“Well, well. I’ve been wanting to get you alone from the first moment I saw you,” she purred the moment she got him back to her gaudy, overly decorated home. She didn’t bother with a formal living space Thorn noticed. Her entire domicile appeared to be dominated by dungeon equipment and accoutrements.
She brought him inside and took him straight to an agony cross where she chained him up.
“I may not be able to use a pain collar on you,” she hissed in his ear. “But there are so many more ways to have fun—don’t you think?”
Thorn didn’t answer—nor did he cry out despite the various implements she used on his back and the rest of his body. This was more like what he had been expecting when he’d agreed to take the mission to Yonnie Six. It was comforting, in a way. Being tortured was something he understood—something he could withstand.
Lady Wraith’neck’s touch didn’t cause him to react the way Neh’sa’s had. Through the entire session—which lasted hours—the fire within him didn’t even come close to the surface. She could do what she liked to his body but she couldn’t touch his heart or draw any kind of reaction from him—a fact which clearly irritated the sadistic Mistress.
After hours of using everything she could think of on him, she threw down the bloody cane she held with a petulant curse.
“This is ridiculous! How was Neh’sanna able to train you at all when you’re so clearly impervious to pain?”
“Neh’sa trains… with love.” Thorn spoke with difficulty. Enduring the physical pain had enabled him to take himself away, into a mindless place where no thought was possible. Bringing himself back from that place required an effort.
“Love?” Lady Wraith’neck scoffed. “What sort of nonsense is that?”
“I wouldn’t…expect you to understand,” Thorn still spoke haltingly. “You have nothing but…hatred and cruelty in you. Which is why….Neh’sa will always be the superior Mistress.”
“Silence!” Lady Wraith’neck snapped. “I won’t tolerate such talk, especially not from a slave!” She began to pace angrily back and forth. “What you need is a good jolt from a pain collar! Damn that Neh’sanna and her soft-hearted ways!” She glared at Thorn. “I don’t believe she really has a link to you. I ought to put a collar on you anyway and turn it up to maximum to find out.”
“Do as you please with me, Mistress,” Thorn growled stoically. “But I warn you—Neh’sa does feel my pain.”
He closed his eyes, trying not to remember the echo of his agony in her lovely dark eyes when he’d told her of his past. How she could treat him with such compassion after hearing how badly he had failed the only other female in his life he’d ever loved was beyond him.
“That’s part of what makes her such a good Mistress,” he added.
“Ridiculous!” Lady Wraith’neck raged again, but he noticed she didn’t make any move to put a pain collar on him. “I own a slave but I don’t really own him,” she went on to herself, still pacing. “I’ll never truly own the big brute until Neh’sanna is out of the way.”
This got Thorn’s attention.
“If you hurt her—if you so much as touch a hair on my Mistress’s head—” he began.
“I am your Mistress now, you big fool!” Lady Wraith’neck stormed. “But don’t worry,” she went on. “I won’t touch her. Not personally anyway.”
Her words troubled Thorn but he told himself that after the ceremony at the Library of All Knowledge it would be a moot point. As soon as she was invested as one of the Sacred Seven, he would be using Lady Wraith’neck’s print and retinal scan to help himself to the information on the Hive. He would transmit it instantly back to the Kindred Mothership and then he would leave Yonnie Six behind forever. And once he was gone, there would be no reason for Lady Wraith’neck to wish to harm Neh’sa. He hoped…
As he stood in the cloudy atmosphere dome which housed the Library of All Knowledge and watched the ceremony of investiture, he thought that the multiple bruises and lacerations on his back and body were a small price to pay for not having to betray Neh’sa in the awful way he had been dreading. He was so glad he wouldn’t have to force her to use her print and retinal scan to get him the information on the Hive.
Lady Wraith’neck, on the other hand, he had no problem using. Then, after he had transmitted the information, he would be on his way.
Looking out into the crowd, he saw a reptilian form standing on the fringes. Greed’lick—his ride home.
Catching the alien’s eye, he nodded once—All is going according to plan.
The huge lizard-male nodded back. I’ll be waiting.
There were some other males who looked like they didn’t belong in the Yonnite crowd as well. They didn’t have the downtrodden air of the males of Yonnie Six who were either owned and abused on a regular basis or were free but so poor and hopeless that they could scarcely hold their heads up.
No, these males—there were three of them in all—looked…different. Thorn frowned. What were they? Not Kindred but not far from it either. Havok maybe? The genetic cousins of the Kindred race, the Havok had branched off years ago and had no need to call females as
their mates. In fact, their motto was, “We do not Bond.”
And these disreputable-looking bastards certainly didn’t seem the type to bond with any female—or to respect and revere them as the Kindred did either. The one who was standing a little ahead of the other two appeared to be the leader. He wore a black Cybernetic patch over one eye. Thorn wondered if it had special properties. Some such enhancements could show all spectrums of light as well as allowing the user to see in pitch blackness.
His contemplation of the three disreputable-looking males was interrupted when Mistress Thrust’much announced that it was time to go inside the Library of All Knowledge where only the Sacred Seven and their body-slaves were permitted and finished the investiture of Lady Wraith’neck.
This is my chance, Thorn thought. My only chance – I’d better not fuck it up.
He turned obediently when Lady Wraith’neck yanked on the long leather leash attached to his collar and followed her into the library. He could feel Neh’sa’s gaze on him and knew she must be cataloging his injuries.
He tried not to catch her eyes, so filled with pain and pity for him. It would only make things harder to think of what he had lost, of what might’ve been between them if only the circumstances have been different.
I must complete my mission, he told himself dully. That’s all that matters now.
And he had to wait for just the right timing to do that.
He knew, from hearing lady Wraith’neck speak to one of the ceremony planners that morning, exactly what would happen next. She would be brought to the scanning booth located in the middle of the library and her fingerprint and retinal scan would be recorded in the files of the Sacred Seven. From then on, all she had to do to access any information was simply go to a stack where the data was stored, press her finger to the receptacle, and look into the scanning portal. The information could then be transferred to any device she wished for her later perusal.
Or any device I wish, Thorn thought. He had every intention of feeding information straight to the transmitter he carried which was linked to the Kindred Mothership. The whole thing would take only a matter of moments—he just had to get Lady Wraith’neck alone to make it work and he thought he knew exactly how to accomplish that.
Pinned to her sleeve, the sadistic Mistress wore a priceless brooch, the centerpiece of which was a large natural Timbrian emerald set in Valenite. The proceeds of the brooch, if it were sold, could probably fund Neh’sa’s Mercy clinic for at least five standard years. It was a piece of jewelry even the obscenely rich Lady Wraith’neck would mind losing—a family heirloom passed down from mother to daughter for generations which proved her legitimate birthright as a Mistress on Yonnie Six. If it went missing, she would certainly search for it.
And Thorn fully intended for it to go missing.
“And now my good Lady Wraith’neck, you must press your finger to the glowing red receptacle and look into the portal at the same time.” Grande Dame Thrust’much indicated the glowing red pad and small round aperture which irised open when Lady Wraith’neck leaned towards it. She pressed her finger to the red pad and looked into the aperture and in a moment it turned green and there was a soft chiming sound.
“Very good, very good.” Grande Dame Thrust’much nodded approvingly. “Now you have the power to access all the many years of accumulated knowledge in our vast collection. Not many are granted such an opportunity. Use it wisely to enrich yourself with learning, so that you may pass it down to other Yonnite sisters when the time comes.”
Of course, Lady Wraith’neck had no intention of doing any such thing, as Thorn was well aware. She had only wanted the honor of being one of the Sacred Seven as a kind of feather in her cap – a status symbol she could wave in the faces of other Mistresses to make them jealous. She had no more interest in learning than she had in running a Mercy clinic, but now she could count herself as one of the highest of the high—a member of the true upper echelon of Yonnite society.
For now, at least.
Thorn wondered how her status might change after he forced her to help him get the information he needed. A Mistress who couldn’t control her body-slave wouldn’t be held in very high esteem. It made him glad all over again that it was Lady Wraith’neck he would be using to get the information he needed, not Neh’sa.
More than anything he just wanted to finish his mission and get away from this damn place. It was too painful, and every time he looked at Neh’sa, all he could think of was her hands on him, her soft voice in his ear, the tears in her eyes when she bid him goodbye…
Enough of that, he told himself angrily. You’re never going to see her again after you get this job done and it’s just as well. You’re no damn good for her – for any female. She’s better off without you, so just forget her.
As unobtrusively as he could, he got a little closer to his new Mistress’s side while she preened and talked loudly about how pleased she was to be one of the Sacred Seven.
“…an honor richly deserved though long in coming,” she was saying, while the other six members of the Sacred Seven looked vaguely nauseous. Thorn saw a few of them cast looks at Mistress Thrust’much. Doubtless they were wondering what the Grande Dame of the Council had been thinking when she chose Wraith’neck to be one of their group.
Thorn actually knew the reason for this—Lady Wraith’neck had bragged the night before about getting the Grande Dame hooked on a type of spiked dream-gas only she could supply. She was, in effect, Mistress Thrust’much’s dealer. Which in Thorn’s opinion, didn’t really leave the Grande Dame much room to make accusations as to the illegality of Neh’sa’s efforts to give out contraception and aid the evil act of male penetration.
But none of that mattered right now. The main thing was that all eyes were on either Lady Wraith’neck or Mistress Thrust’much—no one was watching what a lowly body-slave was doing. Thorn, of course, being the lowly body-slave in question.
Despite the collar and leash he wore, his hands were unbound and so he was able to reach up and gently unfasten the priceless brooch from his new Mistress’s sleeve. Concealing it in one hand, he backed slowly out of the small crowd gathered around the scanning booth, and then headed for the slave’s fresher, located further back in the data stacks.
Thorn was surprised that the Library of All Knowledge even had a male’s fresher but he supposed the fine Mistresses of Yonnie Six couldn’t have their slaves pissing in the bushes around the building. It wouldn’t look nice.
Luckily, though the building was huge, the fresher was located very near the data stack he needed to access. Thorn dropped the brooch there, out of sight, half-hidden beneath the stack, and went back to join the main party which were now taking a tour of the Library.
“There you are!” Lady Wraith’neck hissed at him. “How dare you wander off? I let go of your leash for one minute—”
“Sorry, Mistress. Had to use the fresher.” Thorn shrugged.
“Well don’t leave again! Or I’ll be certain you’re sorry later,” she snapped.
“Lady Wraith’neck, did you hear what I said?” Grande Dame Thrust’much was glaring at her. “This data stack contains all we know about the various stars in our galaxy, their types, classifications, intensities, and the number of planets they may or may not have orbiting around them. Are you even listening?”
“Of course, Grande Dame,” Lady Wraith’neck muttered rebelliously. “Forgive me for my momentary lapse—I had to chastise my slave.”
“Chastise him on your own time. We need to move this tour along so we can get to the reception being held in the adjoining atmosphere dome,” Mistress Thrust-much snapped.
Lady Wraith’neck nodded meekly enough but the look she shot Thorn let him know she had plans for him later.
Well, that was all right—he had plans for her too.
“Excuse me, Grande Dame, but I’m afraid I need to leave the tour a bit early.”
Thorn’s head jerked up because it was Neh’sa’s soft vo
ice speaking. Though he had been avoiding meeting her eyes, he couldn’t help it now. She was looking right at him, though she was speaking to Mistress Thrust’much. Her large, dark eyes were troubled and her small hands were curled into fists at her sides.
She’s afraid for me—worried for me, Thorn realized. She’s wondering what awful things Lady Wraith’neck has planned to do to me next. He wished he could reassure her—let her know everything was going to be all right. But there was nothing he could do or say, especially in the present company. So he simply gave her a little shrug and looked away.
“What? Why would you need to leave the tour?” Mistress Thrust’much demanded.
“I’m afraid I am…unwell,” Neh’sa said. “Forgive me but I must beg to be excused.”
“Well, if you must…” The Grande Dame didn’t look very happy about it but Neh’sa really did look pale and unwell. Thorn wondered if she’d gotten any sleep at all the night before. Probably not.
“Thank you.” Neh’sa inclined her head and turned to go. She was the only Mistress without a body-slave in attendance, so she walked out of the huge, echoing marble Library alone.
Thorn watched her go, wondering if this would be his last sight of her. Her brand between his shoulder blades burned fiercely. It was the only part of him Lady Wraith’neck hadn’t beaten, whipped, or in some way abused the night before—but only because she had plans to obscure Neh’sa’s brand with her own once it had healed a bit and the skin could take new branding.
That was never going to happen, of course—he would be out of here before the next solar hour had passed. But he never intended to remove Neh’sa’s brand, even after he was gone and the mission was over.
Why bother trying to remove her brand from his skin when it was stamped permanently into his heart?
For a moment, as he watched her pass silently out the broad double doors of the Library, he had a bad feeling. An intuition that something wasn’t right…
But then Lady Wraith’neck gave his leash an especially vicious jerk and he was forced to follow her deeper into the data stacks as Mistress Thrust’much continued the tour.
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