Captive

by Cheryl Brooks

  Jaquet turned a golden knob on one end of the tub and steaming water poured from an ornate faucet. By the time she turned it off, the water was deep enough that all three of the Racks could have gone for a swim.

  Klara had never seen so much clean water in one place in her life. “Isn’t that kind of wasteful?”

  Medras set a thick, fluffy towel and a bar of soap on a low table by the tub. “Extravagant perhaps. Not wasteful. The water is filtered and recycled.” She pointed to a dome-shaped device hanging from the ceiling in the corner. “If you stand under that, the moisture in your hair will be reclaimed.”

  “Glad to hear it.” She glanced at the Zuterans, who showed no inclination to withdraw. “If you’ll find me some clean clothes, I can take it from here.” When they hesitated, she added, “Don’t worry. I won’t try to escape.” Given the height and size of the window, this would have been difficult, if not impossible. The little bird-women might’ve managed to fly up there and crawl out if they’d had wings, but the smooth tiled walls wouldn’t have provided a toehold for a flekmouse.

  The Zuterans left the room, although Klara assumed they hadn’t gone far. She caught a brief exchange with a gruff-voiced male before the door closed.

  That would be my Nedwut guard, no doubt.

  She’d dealt with enough Nedwuts to know they could be bought. Unfortunately, she had nothing to pay him with at that moment, unless he were to covet some of the furnishings. Somehow she couldn’t imagine that a Nedwut would yearn for any part of such feminine décor. Although he might have a girlfriend who would like it.

  She slowly tilted her head to the side and raised a brow. In all the years she’d lived in this region, she’d never seen a female Nedwut. Not one. Surely there had to be such a thing. To her knowledge—which she had to admit was somewhat limited—no higher life forms reproduced asexually.

  So where were they? Or were all the Nedwuts on Haedus Nine confirmed bachelors?

  Or maybe Pelarus was holding their women hostage.

  Hmm…

  She focused on the possibilities as she stripped off her clothing—until the sheer bliss of sinking into a tub filled with warm clean water overwhelmed her.

  “Damn… This is almost as good as sex with Moe.”

  Not quite, but it ran a close second. She lay there thinking that nothing could improve upon the silky feel of water on her skin—until she tried the soap. Clouds of fragrant lather formed at the slightest touch of the bar to the water, becoming thicker and creamier with added friction. If it weren’t for Moe, Pelarus might have had her for the price of a bath, which was probably exorbitant.

  She gave herself a mental slap. Am I so easily bought?

  Not entirely, and not forever. But for the moment, she felt quite charitable toward her captor.

  And to think, after all the years of being hunted like a dangerous criminal, Pelarus could’ve simply lured her into his lair with a full bathtub and a bar of soap.

  A little food would be a nice touch too. A nice three or four course meal followed by a sweet, creamy dessert.

  A little snard, perhaps?

  I wish.

  Even if she hadn’t been mated to Moe, she could never respond to Pelarus sexually. But she would’ve eaten his food and used his bathtub with no remorse whatsoever. Of course, that was undoubtedly his plan. Woo her with luxuries until her resistance waned because he obviously realized that acting like an asshole wasn’t getting him anywhere.

  Yeah, right. While the inhabitants of the region are being starved into submission? I think not.

  “I really need to talk to that Nedwut.” Her speech sounded languid even to her own ears.

  Was there something in the water or the soap to make her feel drowsy and compliant? Pelarus probably had access to all manner of mind-altering drugs. Although from what she’d ever heard, they were too expensive to use on the entire population of Srekatoa. However, he would certainly have the wherewithal to pick and choose who he gave it to. Perhaps he used it on the Nedwuts whenever they got horny—just to keep them in line.

  She lathered her hair, then took a deep breath and sank beneath the surface to rinse away the soap.

  Just a few minutes more… Then I’ll get out and dry off. I’ll get dressed as soon as the bird ladies bring me some clean clothes. I promise.

  She would play her part in the rebellion. She would talk to the Nedwut guard, find out where his sympathies lay and what it might take to convince him to help her.

  “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

  Right after my nap.

  Moe’s first strategy was to try to make friends with his guard—an idea he immediately dismissed the moment a hairy arm appeared through a slit in the blank wall in front of him.

  “Stand back from the door.” The voice was unmistakably that of a Nedwut.

  Crap. If these people had any idea who he was—or rather, who his mother was—they’d have no desire whatsoever to befriend him, let alone help him to escape.

  “No tricks,” the guard warned. “And don’t bother telling me you haven’t got any. If you got away from Klara…” The shrug of his shoulders was enough to prove precisely how well-informed he was. He might’ve even known about the speed.

  “How do you know I didn’t win her over with my irresistible charm?”

  The Nedwut barked out what might have been a laugh. “Yeah, right. I know Klara too well for that.”

  “Yes, but I am Zetithian. Just because she’s never responded to anyone else’s charm doesn’t mean she wouldn’t like me. Zetithian women are notoriously choosy.”

  “True, but that doesn’t matter now.” The guard set down a flimsy plate and an even flimsier cup of water. Clearly, they were taking no chances that he might fashion a tool or weapon from the utensils, because there weren’t any. “Pelarus has her.”

  The hunger gnawing at Moe’s stomach almost tempted him to make a dash for the food. Only his rising anger at the thought of his mate in the arms of another man, especially a creep like Pelarus, quashed the urge completely. With an effort, he kept his voice even. “I could’ve guessed that.”

  As the guard began to retreat through the doorway, his eyes never leaving Moe for a second, Moe said conversationally, “Tell me, does he ever not get his way?”

  A frown wrinkled the wolf-like brow. “For that, you’d have to go back to her mother’s refusal of him.”

  Moe grimaced. “Doesn’t that piss you off? I mean, why should he get everything while you guys get all the dirty work?”

  The Nedwut leaned back against the edge of the wall as though prepared to chat for a bit. “Who says we don’t like the dirty work?”

  Moe had seldom engaged a Nedwut in conversation, but he couldn’t believe they didn’t have any dreams or wishes of their own. “Maybe. But you can’t like living on this planet. If I were you, I’d save up my credits and catch the first starship out of here.”

  “Working in a palace has its perks.”

  “Maybe. But what about women? I’ve traveled a lot in my lifetime, and the one thing I’ve never seen is a female of your species. Or do you keep them hidden in a closet somewhere?”

  An expression Moe couldn’t identify crossed the guard’s face. He wasn’t snarling, exactly, but he didn’t seem at all pleased. “Our females are not permitted to leave the homeworld.”

  “That’s not very smart. What if someone took a notion to blast your planet to oblivion the way they did mine? If there hadn’t been a few females offworld, we’d soon be extinct.” He left out the obvious argument that he himself was a crossbreed. Somehow, he didn’t think there were many species whose females would mate with a Nedwut. Not willingly, anyway.

  “I’m saving my credits.” He pursed his lips, which was a weird move coming from a being with a long snout and teeth like a dog. “You’d think I’d earn more as a prison guard, but hunting Klara was far more lucrative. Most of my credits came from her. Now that she’s out of commission, nobody will be able to save very much.�
�� With a slow wag of his head, he added, “Everything around here is so bloody expensive…”

  “Owe your soul to the palace commissary?”

  A snort confirmed this suspicion. “You could say that. Since most ships avoid our planet, going back costs a small fortune in bribes—even after we land.”

  “It’s a wonder any of you ever go offworld. What’s the motive?”

  “The bride price for a mate is very high. For many of us of the lower caste the only way to earn it is to steal or try our luck elsewhere. Leaving our world is cheap because the wealthy would just as soon be rid of us.”

  That explained the tendency for Nedwuts to go into bounty hunting. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

  Another shrug. “It is what it is.”

  “Sounds like you could stand a revolution on—” He paused, trying to recall if he’d ever heard a name for the Nedwut homeworld. Although never having talked to one for this long might’ve had something to do with it. “What’s the name of your planet?”

  “Rusarck.”

  “Rusarck? Seriously?” The smell of the food was curling through his nose, making Moe wish the dude would leave so he could gorge himself, but the information he was gleaning was priceless. “Why are you called Nedwuts?”

  “We don’t call ourselves that. I’m not sure where the name came from.”

  Probably meant mean and disgusting in some language or other. “Maybe it’s just easier to say than Rusarckians.” Although Haedusian had the same number of syllables and so did Zetithian. Still, two syllables were easier to pronounce. He’d heard Zetithian butchered enough. Not to mention his own surname.

  “Possibly. Anyhow, the name seems to have stuck. I’ve tried to explain to a few people, but they aren’t buying it. No idea why.”

  “Could be you’re the first to tell anyone the true name.”

  “Could be.” He sniffed and inched through the doorway a bit further. “Gotta go now. Enjoy your chow.”

  Moe put up a hand. “Hold on a sec. What’s your name?”

  “Zract.”

  “That’s easy enough.”

  “It’s actually a lot longer than that.” He rattled off a name that put Zetithian monikers to shame, then added, “Figured it was best to keep it simple.”

  As one who’d been saddled with Moriconthan Tshevnoe, Moe could definitely relate. “I hear you, man.” He waved a hand in farewell. “Have a good one.” His hunger finally got the better of him, and he picked up what he assumed was a sandwich of some sort—a sandwich that appeared to be composed primarily of greens.

  Great. Just when I could really go for a hot ham and cheese on rye.

  “I’ll try,” Zract said with a strangely apologetic tone for a Nedwut, er, Rusarkian. “But no matter what happens, my day is bound to be better than yours.”

  Moe stopped in mid-bite. “How so?”

  “You’re slated for the arena this afternoon.”

  Oh, joy. “Any idea who I’ll be up against?”

  “Nobody on my block,” Zract replied. “Although I’m guessing it won’t be an easy opponent. Pelarus doesn’t like you at all.” He gestured toward the plate. “Most guys get more than a salad.”

  “Well…tell whoever my opponent is to enjoy his lunch.” It’s probably going to be his last.

  “Will do. That is, if I can find out who it is. I’ll ask around and get back to you.”

  “I’d appreciate that. By the way, what do I get if I win?”

  “You get to live—at least until the next match, which probably won’t be very long. Like I said, Pelarus really doesn’t like you.”

  “Lucky me.”

  Chapter 21

  After wrapping herself in that amazing towel, Klara dried her hair, then wandered into the bedroom. Clothing—not her own, which was nowhere in sight—was laid out on a chair beside the bed. As tired as she was, diving into the bed naked had its allure, especially since the sheets looked softer than anything she could possibly imagine.

  Unless it’s the skin on Moe’s cock. Already she missed him and the velvety smooth glide of his supremely satisfying lovemaking. Something she’d never dreamed would hold any appeal for her was now something she was beginning to doubt she could live without.

  I have to remain alive. Our children deserve their chance at life. And for them to get it, I must escape.

  “But what if the worst happens and I lose Moe and our children?” she asked herself. “If it means a lifetime of captivity and servitude, maybe staying alive isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  No matter what happens, I must remain firm in my convictions.

  She glanced around her. Maintaining those convictions was difficult when there was no one around to share them with.

  “Guess I’ll get dressed,” she muttered. “Wouldn’t want you-know-who to catch me naked if he should take a notion to drop by.”

  The garment on the chair appeared to be a robe of some sort. Gathering it up, she carried it into the bathroom. After hanging up the towel—that much bathroom etiquette she recalled from her youth—she slipped on the robe. The soft, shimmering fabric caressed her skin in a manner rivaling the sensuous feel of soap and water. For a woman whose adult life had been one of constant exposure to rough, gritty clothing, this was sheer heaven.

  Somehow, trying to convince her guard that she was unhappy was becoming more ridiculous by the second. If only she had Moe with her, she could’ve faced conditions that were a whole lot worse.

  For a moment, she was at a loss for what to do next.

  Nothing to do? Had she ever been faced with that?

  If she had, she couldn’t recall the details.

  Summoning her strength and fortitude, she headed for the door with a purposeful stride and pounded it with her fist.

  To her surprise, the door swung open.

  Her gasp of dismay was nothing compared to her Nedwut guard’s double-take. With no one around, he’d apparently taken the opportunity to lounge against the opposite wall and doze.

  He drew himself upright, aimed his pulse rifle at her bellybutton, and bared his fangs. “You aren’t allowed out.”

  “If that’s the case, why did you leave the door unlocked?” Blackmail might serve her as well as any other form of persuasion. “Should I report you to someone? Pelarus, perhaps?”

  His expression changed from snarling to sniveling so fast, she nearly laughed in his face.

  “You wouldn’t do that, would you?” he whined. “I would’ve caught you before you got very far anyway.”

  “I suppose you would.” Nedwuts were generally quick on their feet, and this one appeared to be no less nimble than the others she’d encountered. Besides, having had hairy Nedwut paws on her before, she had no desire to repeat the experience. “Never mind that. I’m starving. Is there anything to eat around here?”

  “The birds will be back with food soon.” He hesitated, shuffling his feet as he lowered his weapon a hair. “They, um, wanted to give you plenty of time in the bath.”

  “I wasn’t that dirty, was I? I mean, they’ve been gone for ages. How many hours do they normally spend in the bath?”

  “Oh, you know the birds. They’ll splash around forever if you let them.”

  She leaned back against the door jamb, folding her arms across her chest. “No, I don’t know the birds, but I won’t ask how you know that.”

  He shrugged. “Common knowledge. Although I’m talking about the swimming pool, not the bathtub.”

  “What the devil is a swimming pool?”

  “Like a bathtub, only a lot bigger,” he replied, seeming to relax a bit more. “The birds love to swim.”

  “I see…and I’m sure they don’t mind being called birds.”

  “Dunno. Never asked them.” He aimed a nervous glance down the corridor. “You’d better get back inside. You might not report me, but the birds would.”

  “Yeah. I get the impression they’re pretty happy here. Maybe even proud of their standing among
the servants.”

  His toothy grin was only slightly less frightening than his snarl. “Stuck up little grebtas, aren’t they?”

  “Grebtas?”

  “I think the Stantongue word is vermin.”

  “Okay. Not nice, obviously.”

  “No, they aren’t.” He wrinkled his snout and sniffed. “I wouldn’t trust them, myself.”

  “And I should trust you?”

  “Well, maybe not. After all, I’ve got my own ass to consider.”

  She peered at him closely. He didn’t seem familiar, but she’d dealt with several Nedwut hunters over the years, and one Nedwut looked very much like another. “Have we met before?”

  “No,” he replied. “But I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask…”

  This, apparently, was all the prompting he required. “You’re tough, they say. Drive a hard bargain, and you’ve killed a bunch of us.” With a toss of his head, he added, “We admire you for that, which is why capturing you is such an honor.”

  “Honor? I didn’t always resort to killing. I’ve paid you guys off loads of times. How honorable is that?”

  He shouldered his weapon. Finally. “We can all use the extra cash. And letting you go gives someone else the chance at a few credits.”

  She stared at him in disbelief for a long moment, her mouth slightly agape. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “No, really. If you escape, catching you again would get me free drinks for a month—not to mention what you’d pay me to let you go.” His shoulders drooped in undisguised disappointment. “Not much chance of that, though. I’m guessing you don’t have any credits on you.”

  “No, I don’t, although there are plenty of expensive-looking items in this room.”

  His ears pricked forward and he licked his chops. “Really?”

  She put up a hand. “Hold on. Let me get this straight. Capturing me is an honorable act, but letting me go is also honorable?”

  “Yeah. Spread the wealth and all that. All told, we’ve probably gotten more money from you than Pelarus pays us to hunt for you.” He patted the butt of his rifle. “And we do love to hunt.”