Gweneth frowned. “It sounds as if Malasses wishes to get his hands on that power again.”
“Yes,” Sheera said, and fear shook her slender body.
“The collars keep you bound?” Ellard bent forward to study the lock on the cell door. Maybe he could get it open. Although the ship had some mod-alterations, this part seemed older.
“As long as we wear them, we can’t escape,” Leeam said. “I’ve tried to remove mine and each time it burns my palms and around my neck.” His slender fingers lifted the collar and Gweneth gasped at the vivid blue of his flesh. When he released the collar, his fingers glowed a faint blue, and he flexed them, his expression set in pain.
“How would Malasses know to set a trap in that area?” Ellard asked, trying to understand. “How could he know you and Sheera would be there?”
“Courting couples often go there to choose a precious stone for the dragons to mold into a promise ring. We go there to collect stones for the dragons and to relax. If he’d been watching, he’d know this. It’s common knowledge in our town. Someone must have talked.”
“An argument against letting outsiders onto the planet,” Gweneth commented.
“But they can’t stay isolated either,” Ellard said.
“Some of us need to find new homes,” Leeam said.
“And the dragons need to expand too,” Gweneth added. “If they’ve contacted Lynx and Shiloh, they’ll know where we are.” Her gaze zeroed in on the lock of their cell. “We need to be ready. I think I can pick that.” She slid her knife from her boot heel and worked the lock.
“That’s my girl,” Ellard said, full of pride.
Secs later, the lock clicked and she opened the door. She darted out and performed the same magic on the other cell.
“I’m going to try to get the collars off. Leeam first.”
“Sheera first,” Leeam ordered. “Please.”
Gweneth gave a swift nod. She reached out to grasp the collar and a faint buzz sounded. Her entire body juddered, a shower of blue sparks shooting from the metallic-looking band. Sheera moaned, her jaw clenching.
“Let go,” Ellard ordered.
“C-can’t.”
Ellard hurried closer and peeled Gweneth’s fingers free, one digit at a time. His heart beat faster than normal and his feline clamored for release. The collar kept sparking, each blue spark that struck him shooting a shock down his forearm.
Gweneth went limp, her eyelids fluttering. Finally, finally, Ellard dragged her free and both women slumped.
“That’s not going to work.” Leeam stated the obvious as he crouched beside a limp Sheera. The white skin around her neck glowed a glacier blue to match her pupils.
“No. I’m going to leave the pair of you in your cell with the door unlocked. If you remain inside, the reivers might not notice. They don’t seem particularly bright. Pretend to be unconscious if you hear them coming to check on you.”
“What are you going to do?”
Ellard glanced down at the unconscious Gweneth. “I’ll rouse Gweneth and hide. Then, we’re going to capture the reivers one by one and take them out of commission. We’ll find a way of removing your collars once we have control of their ship.”
“I like confidence,” Leeam whispered, his hands stroking Sheera’s hair.
“No other way. Besides, Lynx and the others will come for us. The reivers won’t make it back to their base before we’re rescued.”
“Thanks.” Sheera’s pained reply deepened Ellard’s resolve. Despite his confidence, he didn’t know if Lynx would arrive before the reivers met their contact. For all he knew, this Malasses might come to meet the Scothage reivers.
“I’m sorry you were injured,” Ellard said as he awkwardly levered Gweneth up and placed her over his shoulder—the easiest way to transport her with his handicap.
“We had to try. Sheera and I have never experienced the collars. Our grandsire mentioned them in tales. We might not have our full powers but Ransom encouraged Niran to teach us to fight. I might manage to get some kicks in before they send a zap through the collar.”
Ellard patted Leeam’s shoulder. “Last resort. Play dead first. Save the surprise attack for right at the end. Shut the cell door after me.”
Leeam nodded. “Some of our people are against Ransom teaching us to fight. They’re wrong. We can’t rely on our ability to shimmer in and out.”
“When we get out of this situation, I’ll teach you some tricks,” Ellard promised.
“Me too?” Sheera croaked.
“Both of you.” With one final curt nod, Ellard cautiously moved in the direction the guards had disappeared.
He peeked around the corner, saw that no reivers lurked in the corridor and hurried to the end. Here, the corridor split, and he heard several voices coming from the room halfway along. The scent of food wafted on the air. A galley or mess of some sort. Ellard took the quieter direction and loped away from the noise. He paused at each door, frustration stirring in his gut when he couldn’t balance Gweneth over his shoulder and open the doors to the rooms he passed. All he could do was pause and listen, casting out his feline senses to ascertain if a reiver occupied the room on the other side of the door.
“Grata.” Not much sound transmitted through the doors, despite the age of the Scothage ship. Deciding not to risk entrance, he padded to the end of this corridor and halted. Without warning, hard fingers pinched his butt. He jumped and spat out a curse, whirling so fast that Gweneth’s skull connected with the wall.
“Ouch! You can put me down. I’m awake,” she said in a hoarse voice.
“You couldn’t have just told me,” he muttered, helping her slide down his front. He held her steady and watched her rub her left temple. “You okay?”
She studied her fingers and offered a wan smile. “No blood. That’s a good start.”
“Can you stand on your own?”
In reply, she toddled a few steps and almost fell. “Might need a bit of help.”
“That, I can do. It will be easier if you can balance. If I carry you, I don’t have enough hands to open the different rooms. I can’t hear through the doors,” Ellard said in a low voice.
“Have you seen any of the reivers?”
“Heard some the other way. I think it was a mess room or a galley of some sort since I could smell food.”
“I could do with some food,” Gweneth said, her voice hopeful. “The stuff in the tubes looked nasty.”
“We’ll check this way first. See if we can find any reivers on their own to increase the odds in our favor.”
Gweneth nodded then winced. “Next time I won’t pinch you. Not straightaway.”
“Good to know you learn from your mistakes.”
A snort emerged as he slipped his arm around her waist.
A voice sounded from in front of them. “Cal, that you?”
Ellard glanced at Gweneth and found her more alert. He signaled with his hand, indicating she should go low and prayed she understood. She jerked her chin, her muscles tensing as the clomp of boots came closer.
“Cal, that you, aye?”
Ellard waited and cursed under his breath when the footsteps halted. They needed to move. Now.
As one, he and Gweneth flew around the corner, driving into reiver’s chest. Both of them. The reiver toppled back with a shout of surprise, and Gweneth slapped a hand over his mouth.
“I told you to go low,” Ellard muttered.
“No you didn’t.”
“I signaled with my fingers.”
“Oh, I thought you had a cramp and were stretching them.”
“But—” Ellard snapped his mouth shut. She didn’t train with his soldiers. They hadn’t known each other for long, so he couldn’t expect her to read his mind. “Next time I make this signal.” He demonstrated with his fingers pointed at the floor. “It means go low. If I make this signal,” he pointed at the ceiling, “it means go high.”
“Very well.” Gweneth tilted her chin, more a
lert than earlier.
The Scothage male moaned, and Gweneth punched him hard in the face. His moan cut off and his head lolled to the side. Still breathing but unconscious.
Ellard sent her a look of respect.
“What will we do with him?”
“Drag him into one of these rooms,” Ellard said. “Tie him up and move on.”
“Let’s do this.” She opened the door to the closest room, scanned it and backed out. “This one will work.”
Together, they dragged him inside, Gweneth found an abandoned plaid tunic on the floor and hacked it into strips. Five mins later, they’d trussed the male like a fat pig-bird, ready to roast.
Gweneth cautiously opened the door and peered into the corridor. “It’s safe. Let’s go.”
Ellard closed the door after them and followed Gweneth. They turned the corner and came face-to-face with two of the Scothage reivers. For an instant, they all stared at each other. The two Scothage males wore their leather kilts with plaid tunics. Their faces, the parts not disguised by bushy beards, were tan from exposure to the light of a star. Although he stood half a head taller, Ellard knew not to discount their wiry builds.
“What they be doing here?” one blurted.
“Ran out of water,” Gweneth said. “We were thirsty.”
“Huh?” the other said.
Ellard struck before their brains started functioning. He kicked one hard in the middle of the chest in a move he’d learned from training with Ry. The Scothage went flying, hitting the wall with a sickening thump. He slumped downward and Ellard dragged him back to the room where they’d left the first. Galling as it was, Gweneth didn’t seem to require his help, her Scothage opponent becoming more cautious with each blow she landed.
Gweneth appeared in the doorway. “Quick. We have to go. Coward turned tail and limped away.”
Ellard left the groaning Scothage in a heap on the floor.
“They could at least wear underwear under their skirts,” Gweneth said with a sniff. “A strong wind could blow at any time and create a show.”
Ellard bit back a grin at her disapproval. “I can’t believe we’re discussing male dressing habits when we’re trying to evade capture.”
Shouts and running feet sounded outside the door. Ellard waited until they could no longer hear anything before cracking the door to observe the corridor. “Clear. Let’s go.”
“We can’t evade capture forever.”
Ellard grinned a feral grin. “But we can create havoc meanwhile.”
They cautiously exited the room and continued in the direction away from the mess.
Gweneth halted, a furrow appearing on her forehead. “The ship is stopping. Something is happening.”
“Our rescue?”
“No, if a strange ship appeared, they wouldn’t stop. It’s someone they were expecting.”
Ellard listened, not as attuned to the ship as Gweneth since he hadn’t flown as much in deep space. Grata, she was right.
“What do we do?” she whispered.
Ellard shrugged. “Keep to our plan. They know we’ve escaped the cell.” He prowled down the corridor and peered around the next corner. “The bridge.”
“Can we get closer? We might learn what is happening.”
Good plan. As one, they slinked along the corridor walls, taking care to maintain silence. The familiar vibration of a moving ship recommenced. The stop had been a quick one. To let someone board or someone disembark? Ellard froze at the thought. What if they’d off-loaded Sheera and Leeam?
“You got them?” a harsh voice demanded.
“Aye, sir. They be locked in the cells.”
The second voice belonged to the leader of the reivers, but it sounded as if someone else had charge of this mission. A new arrival?
“Are the collars in place?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Good. That’s good. Set a course to Kiraxes while I go to inspect my prize.”
“There they be,” a man cried from behind them.
“Phrull,” Ellard muttered.
Two males appeared at the entrance of the bridge while behind him and Gweneth, four Scothage males stalked forward, brandishing stunners.
“How did they get loose?” the Scothage captain demanded.
“Who are they?” the big man at his side asked.
The newcomer stood taller than the captain and appeared older with a spare yet muscular frame. His face bore a network of tiny scales and two slightly curled horns extended from his bald skull. An aurora of power simmered from him, but Ellard had never seen a male of this species before. A quick glance at Gweneth told him she hadn’t either.
“They be with the Incorporeals,” the captain said. “We be ransoming them.”
The horned man stared at them both until Ellard wondered why, then the man smiled and a chill raced down Ellard’s spine. Whatever the horned man’s thoughts, they didn’t bode well for their safety.
“How fortuitous,” the horned man crooned.
Fear licked Ellard now, and he felt Gweneth sidle closer, as if she experienced the same foreboding. They were outnumbered. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
“The Incorporeals will require food. You will produce it for them.”
Gweneth gave a soft gasp, and every muscle in his body tightened. This new arrival knew about the sexual energy necessary for the Incorporeal survival.
“You be feeding them to the other creatures.” Disappointment and a touch of horror filled the Scothage captain’s voice as he saw his unexpected profit slipping away.
“Have no fear,” the horned man said, amusement curling his straight mouth into a mocking joke. “You’ll still have your prisoners once they feed the Incorporeals. You’ll have entertainment too,” he promised, his amusement creating a terrifying expression. “The Incorporeals feed on sexual energy. I thought I’d have to order all your men to touch themselves. It would’ve done in a pinch. This will work much better.”
“Take ’em back to their cell,” the Scothage captain ordered.
Two of the Scothage reivers grabbed Gweneth. She used her knee and got one in the groin before they overpowered her. Ellard bit back his amusement and didn’t offer any resistance when the other two reivers pulled their weapons on him.
“A feisty woman,” the horned man said, rubbing his hands—black fingernails, Ellard noted—together. “This feeding will provide great entertainment. I can hardly wait.”
Chapter 13
Gweneth stared at the man and tried to keep her expression impassive. Did he mean what she thought he meant? A quick glance at Ellard confirmed her horror. This man… He’d truly commanded them to have sex in order to feed Sheera and Leeam. The sex part, she didn’t mind so much, but if he thought they would do it with him and the Scothage crew watching…
“No,” she said.
“Yes,” the man said, his voice calm. Scary calm. “You will have sex and provide food for the Incorporeals, and before you refuse again, if you don’t, I will give you to the crew. They won’t suffer the same sensibilities.”
“We’ll do it,” Ellard said.
The man rubbed his hands together, flashing those black fingernails again. “I thought you might. Escort them to the cells. I expect my new possessions to be in full health when I come to inspect them. Do not disappoint me.” He strode away without waiting for a reply, each step a confident swagger.
A Scothage pirate grabbed her upper arm and thrust her down the corridor. He bore a black eye and a nasty-looking bump on his temple plus a scowl. “Get off with you.”
Gweneth jerked free and glowered back. “I’m going. No need to push me.”
“Hush, Gweneth,” Ellard murmured, striding to keep up with her. “We don’t want to upset them.”
“It’s too late for that,” Gweneth said, eying another of the Scothage reivers who appeared worse for wear. “We should have thought of that before we hit them over the head.”
“Only a few of them.”
&
nbsp; Gweneth snorted.
“Enough talkin’,” one of their escorts snarled. He walked with a slight limp and looked familiar. Yes, Gweneth held responsibility for his limp.
Soon they reached the cell area. One of the reivers opened the cell door and gestured for them to enter. He shoved Gweneth on the shoulder and pushed her to the back of the cell. Ellard followed secs later, and they both turned to watch the reivers lock the door. With the cell secured, both parties glared at each other.
“Lock the main door too. Make sure they can’t escape again,” one of the reivers ordered.
Another door slammed, the bolt slotting into the lock like a death knell.
Gweneth paced a tight circle of their cell. “What are we going to do now?”
“We’ll have to give the appearance of making love, otherwise, I think they’ll follow through on their threats.”
“They’re probably watching us now,” Gweneth spat.
“No doubt, but we’ll manage.” Ellard strode to the front of their cell and stared through the bars. Leeam and Sheera were both lying on the deck. “Stay still,” he said in an undertone. “The man behind your capture has joined the ship. He knows how you feed, and has ordered us to have sex in order to make sure you remain healthy. You’ll have to look livelier soon, because he’s intending to inspect his merchandise.”
“We hear and will follow your suggestion,” Leeam replied, his voice a whisper.
Gweneth retreated to the far corner of their cell and sank to the floor. Ellard stalked over to join her.
“I don’t like this.”
“Me neither,” he said. “But we’re going to push aside our discomfort and do as we’re told. But the longer we delay their plans, the better the chance we have of giving Ry and the others a chance to rescue us.”
“It irks me that we need saving.”
“I hear you. I’m in charge of security. How do you think that makes me feel?”
They stared at each other and Gweneth sighed.
“How are we going to do this? You’re right. There is no alternative. That man meant business.”
“We can leave our clothes on and work around them.”
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