Her Savage Mates

by Jayne Ripley

  But she couldn’t stay here either. The luxury and opulence disgusted her. It covered up how brutal this place was.

  Jennifer stepped out into the ornate hallway. She did her “Purpose-filled Fast-walk” down the hall. The walk was designed to make her look like she had someplace urgent to go and shouldn’t be stopped and questioned or someone would regret it. She kept her head up and strode toward the door leading from this exclusive part of the arena. Two big security guards waited at the door impassively.

  She didn’t reach them.

  A Quindon wearing a fancy set of robes that appeared almost religious was the one to stop her. But she quickly dismissed the idea that the Quindon was a priest. His silver-gray eyes were as sharp as a scalpel and cold as ice. Those elaborate robes were made of cloth that actually showed pictures, as if the male Quindon wore a movie screen wrapped around his body, curving the images to his body as well. The pictures were scenes from past arena fights, as brutal and bloody as she’d feared. This Quindon also wore a ring on every finger sporting stones that glowed with their own inner light.

  “You are lost,” the Quindon said to her. It wasn’t a question.

  She breezed past him. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  He reached out and took her arm, halting her. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, even though her heart was pounding with fear. His facial features weren’t anywhere near as pleasing as Darkon’s. His eyes were a duller gray instead of bright silver. The silver tattoo-like pattern on his hairless head wasn’t as intricate and pleasing to her eye. Darkon had the body of an extreme athlete, covered in tight muscle even if he wasn’t as massive as Nahkar. But this Quindon was shorter and rather rounder. She didn’t like the way his lips pursed in distaste as he stared at her, as if she had walked into his bedroom and farted or something.

  She didn’t like those cold, snake-y eyes. They reminded her of the Jandami.

  She also didn’t like that he was touching her.

  “Let go,” she warned softly.

  “You are lost,” he insisted, not letting go.

  “You are out of line. I have every right to be here,” she said, conveniently ignoring the fact that she had been leaving.

  Those pursed lips shifted into a sour smile. “I think not, slave.”

  Fear rushed through her in an icy wave. She felt like she’d just plunged through the ice into a frozen lake. She couldn’t breathe. She swore her heart had missed at least three beats.

  Slave. These fancy clothes didn’t hide that from everyone. When they’d taken off the slave collar after Nahkar and Darkon had fought the lizard aliens, she’d hoped that disgusting word would be gone forever. But she still wore an invisible collar.

  One she could never take off.

  She was a slave. Everyone knew it. The shame of it burned on her cheeks as if she’d been branded. Gritting her teeth, she fought back the urge to break down in tears.

  She needed to be strong, like her two friends. She couldn’t imagine Nahkar or Darkon collapsing into tears the first time someone called them out. No. They were tough. Powerful. Fearless. She bit her lip, grasping for the right word. They were indomitable.

  Although, maybe they weren’t the best example to follow. The first time she’d seen them, they started a huge riot-brawl over her that had ended badly.

  Even if things hadn’t always worked out for the three of them, thinking of Darkon and Nahkar gave her new strength. Jennifer squared her shoulders and glared at this Quindon with his terribly distracting movie-screen clothing and its bloody scenes of arena battles.

  “I’m not a slave,” she told him flatly, without even a tremble in her voice. “I’m a close friend of Nahkar and Darkon, and I’d like to talk to them.”

  That made the Quindon’s smile grow wide enough to show teeth. “I am sure you are a very close friend of theirs, slave.” His gaze roamed up and down her body. “Now I strongly suggest you go back to where you came from and do what you were told. Otherwise, I will have you dragged back inside and tied to the chair.”

  The ice-bath of fear inside her went even colder. She didn’t like how much he seemed to know of her situation. Desperate, she tried a different tack. She suspected who he really was, but she wanted to try getting him to admit it. “I don’t think my owner would like that.”

  He burst out laughing. She didn’t like the sound either. It was even colder and crueler than his eyes.

  “I do not believe you have the slightest idea what your owner would like. A slave like you has exactly one use. Now obey before you regret it.”

  She had no choice. She couldn’t punch him, no matter how tempted she might be. Not with those two beefy alien security guards watching them both now. Besides that, she suspected he either worked for her “master.” He’d been sent here to keep an eye on her. To make sure she obeyed her owner’s command that she watch the show.

  Or he was the bastard who had spoken to them over the speakers.

  The sound of the voice was different. The one over the speakers had been deeper and…different. This Quindon’s voice was higher pitched. The arrogance was the same, though. And voices over speakers could easily be changed. She needed to tell Darkon and Nahkar about him. Right now, though, she had little choice but to obey.

  She did her best to maintain her dignity as she turned and walked back to the luxury box. A glance behind showed her that the Quindon was walking to the security guards at the far end of the fancy hallway. As he sauntered that way, he took some little tech device out of a pocket and began to speak into it.

  He was talking about her. She was certain of it.

  Her heart was pounding and her stomach was tied in knots as she kept walking on wobbly legs. The instant she stepped inside the luxury box, the door closed and wouldn’t open again.

  So much for that. She’d pushed it, and she’d paid the price. Except that she didn’t have any regrets. She might be right back where she’d started, but she’d done something. That made her feel a little bit better. She might have seen their anonymous master’s face too. That could prove useful…somehow.

  Out of options, Jennifer sat down and arranged her fancy dress around her. She needed to focus on Darkon and Nahkar right now. It was time to have faith in her two new friends. After all, they had been fighting here for years. Why was she afraid that they’d be hurt tonight? She was just being a worry wart. This was old hat to them.

  The lights in the arena suddenly dimmed as the grand Blades and Monsters show started. It was a spectacle like nothing she’d ever seen. Explosions like fireworks began to go off in the air over the arena, but the sparks didn’t die out. After bursting into life, they flew around like fireflies, making new patterns and building to a crescendo while sweeping and strange music played. Then there were dancers, hundreds of them all moving in perfect sync. A green-skinned alien female sang some kind of anthem to the imperial family. It was all a huge spectacle, but she barely remembered any of it a second after seeing it. She couldn’t stop worrying about her two friends.

  What if they were hurt? What if she lost them?

  Jennifer sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap when the fights began. She watched as different alien species battled huge, ferocious monsters straight out of her worst nightmares. That was the only way she could describe them. Nightmare monsters. Monsters with huge jaws full of teeth, armored hides, insect legs or shells, mandibles, tentacles, stingers, claws, insect eyes or black, soulless eyes. The announcers went on and on about how the monsters were captured in the most dangerous parts of the galaxy and brought here for the arena games, listing their attributes and how deadly they were. It made her sick to her stomach.

  Her nights were going to be filled with terrible dreams of this show for the rest of her life. After seeing these monsters, all she wanted to do was find a bed to hide under.

  The fighters did well. Mostly. They battled with sword-like weapons or spear-things. Some of them used shields. The first two fighters—one of them sporting
four arms—killed their monsters to the roaring approval of the crowd, even though one fighter was seriously wounded. But the third, a green-skinned alien of the same species as the anthem singer, was bitten in half by a monster the size of a semi. A moan escaped her lips as she watched the poor guy being chomped down and swallowed. The crowd roared just as loudly for the monster.

  She had to close her eyes and focus on her breathing to keep from throwing up. She couldn’t look. She closed her eyes against the sight of all the blood. Her fingers felt numb. Was this a panic attack? How come she felt like she was drowning right now?

  The crowd began to chant Darkon’s name. Her heart did another stop-start thing that brought her hand to her chest and made her gasp in air. She opened her eyes to see that the big monster had been herded from the arena and back out through the gates by large, dangerous-looking robots using shock sticks and energy lashes.

  When the arena was empty, the opposite doors opened. Darkon walked into the arena carrying a black spear. He was wearing futuristic-looking armor and an evil-looking mask. She instantly recognized him anyway, even with his face covered.

  The crowd cheered wildly, chanting his name even louder. Darkon didn’t look at the stands. The announcers were talking about Darkon’s fighting record and his recent troubles with Jandami slavers.

  Darkon moved to the middle of the arena and stood still, focused on the big doors where the monsters came and went. She leaned forward in her seat, barely blinking. Her heart thudded in her chest like a drum. Her hands were clasped tightly together to keep them from shaking.

  The huge metal gates swung open. She couldn’t see into the darkness inside because of all the bright lights around the arena. The crowd’s roar grew even louder and more frenzied. She could feel it vibrating up through her seat. It seemed to torment her.

  The monster inside the gate screeched and charged into the arena. It reminded her of a scorpion crossed with a snake—armored, with a long body and snake-like eyes, gaping jaws, and huge limbs that looked like knives. It scrambled across the ground on legs as big as street lamps, headed straight toward Darkon.

  A moan of fear escaped from her mouth. She was barely aware of it. Her hands were now clamped together so tightly her knuckles were white.

  Darkon was going to die. What hope did anyone have against a creature that big?

  He waited until the very last moment as the monster charged at him. He stood absolutely still. He didn’t even lift his spear in defense.

  The monster closed in relentlessly and lunged at him. Its jaws stretched wide. Ropes of green saliva dangled from its yellow fangs.

  At the last instant, Darkon sprang into motion. He launched himself straight into the air, vaulting so high she cried out in amazement. He turned his body in mid-air, swinging his spear around. For a second, it looked like he was flying.

  The monster’s jaws closed with a snap where he’d been only a second ago. The creature’s momentum carried it underneath Darkon as he spun in the air.

  Darkon had reached the apex of his jump. He came back down fast, his spear aimed right at the monster’s head.

  His aim and timing were perfect. The sharp spear slammed into the top of the monster’s huge head, driving deep.

  The crowd gasped. So did Jennifer.

  Darkon rode the beast as it crashed to the ground, hanging onto the shaft of his spear and balancing as if he rode on a surfboard instead of a monster bigger than a tractor trailer.

  The announcers were going wild. Holographic screens began showing slow-motion replays.

  Jennifer couldn’t find the strength to jump up and cheer. It couldn’t be that easy. Could it? Please, God, could it really be over that quickly?

  The beast finished dying with a pitiable groan. She might have felt sorry for it if it hadn’t been so eager to eat Darkon.

  Darkon yanked his spear out of the monster’s skull. He hopped down from the sprawling corpse and walked back to the doors where he’d entered the arena. He didn’t lift his arms in triumph. He didn’t even seem to react. He was all business.

  She watched him go, blinking back tears. Why was she crying? Relief, maybe. Joy. The need to find release for all these pent-up emotions.

  Darkon vanished through the door. She sagged back in her chair as the handlers and robots came out with heavy equipment to drag away the monster corpse. Then there was more dancing and singing from what she guessed were alien pop bands. As time passed, she sat there alone and wondered how long it would be until Nahkar had to fight. According to the cyborg woman, he would be next up. The headliner and main event of the evening.

  She still felt sick to her stomach with dread. That hadn’t changed. She bitterly wished she was back home. Earth had a lot of problems, but this…

  She shook her head, crying silently.

  The door to the luxury box opened behind her. She twisted in her chair to see who it was, praying it wasn’t that jerkface bastard who had stopped her in the hall.

  It was Darkon.

  She cried out as she shot from her chair and ran to him. She didn’t care; she threw herself into his arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn’t care about that either. She was so grateful to see him. She was sobbing with pent-up relief.

  He wrapped his strong arms around her and hugged her tight. It felt wonderful. His arms felt so good around her. So very good. She never wanted to leave their comfort.

  He drew back enough to look down at her. Gently, he put a finger under her chin and turned her face upward so she was looking him in the eyes.

  “They told me you were here, watching,” he said, the disapproval evident in his voice.

  “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me to come but…the cyborg lady made me. She said our owner wanted it. I was so scared for you. I thought…I thought that thing was going to eat you.”

  “I know they made you come, na vaniya, my heart. I didn’t want you to see that, because I didn’t want you to be afraid.” He hugged her tight to his chest again, softly stroking her hair. “Don’t worry, Jennifer. I am fine.”

  Hot tears burned her cheeks. She was trembling as she pressed herself even tighter against him. She desperately needed the reassurance. She didn’t even care if she looked weak or silly.

  He looked at her tears almost reverently. With a rough finger, he touched them gently, smearing one tear track on her cheek. “Are these for me?”

  She blinked the tears back, swiping at them with her hand. “No. No, of course not. I got something in my eye, that’s all. Dust…or something.” She glared at him. “Don’t you realize it’s impolite to ask something like that of a lady?”

  He grinned at her, his eyes flashing with warmth. “Then I deeply apologize, my lady, for my boorish and inexcusable behavior.”

  “Good. You are forgiven.” She couldn’t do anything but hug him tightly again. Her relief was so great that it left her feeling weak and exhausted.

  And Nahkar hadn’t even fought yet.

  Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened again. Bevelle stepped inside. She was using some kind of portable holographic computer. She swiped away the screen and focused her solid black eyes on Darkon.

  “I explained the plan of events to you, did I not?” she asked him in that dispassionate voice of hers.

  “You did,” Darkon replied flatly.

  “Then it should have been easy for you to remember the details. You were supposed to be injured and saved by Nahkar during your battle. Instead, you killed a hundred-thousand-credit razor-dreng in record time. There was no time for the bettors to update their wagers during your fight.”

  “I know.”

  His simple answer actually seemed to fluster the usually cold cyborg. “I have been sent to inform you that your owner is very displeased.”

  Jennifer glared at her. “Our owner can get stuffed with a bent cucumber. I can’t believe you wanted Darkon to get hurt out there in your sick games. What the hell is wrong with you people? We’re
more civilized on my planet—and that’s not saying much!”

  “Jennifer…” Darkon said with a note of caution in his voice.

  She wheeled on him. “Don’t ‘Jennifer’ me. You’re not somebody’s toy that they can break simply so they can…what? Drive up the stakes at the betting windows? Raise the odds? You’re worth far more than that. I’m not going to sit and hold my tongue while people who are important to me have their lives put at risk for some stupid entertainment!”

  Darkon’s lips slowly curved up into a smile. His silver eyes were fierce as he looked at her with approval. He liked it when she was riled up. Well, good for him. She was on a roll now.

  Bevelle might have been thrown off stride by Darkon, but she didn’t seem impressed by Jennifer’s fury. She merely looked blankly at Jennifer, waiting for her to stop speaking. Then she turned to Darkon and said, “Your actions have changed things.”

  “That’s a risk I had to take,” he replied grimly. “But you should be warned; they changed things for me too.”

  Bevelle’s faced turned to a scowl. “You do not understand.” She pointed to the arena and the restless crowd. “The delay out there is because of you. The consequences for your defiance are not simply having the slave Jennifer Smith auctioned off, as I conveyed before. Your actions have consequences for tonight’s events. I will leave you to watch those consequences unfold.”

  With that, Bevelle left the room again. As the door slid open, Jennifer saw there were armed alien guards waiting. They didn’t come inside, but even after Bevelle left and the door closed again, she knew they were out there. Waiting. Making it so that they could not leave.

  She looked up into Darkon’s troubled eyes. “What did she mean? Are they going to hurt Nahkar?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “I do not know,” he replied, a muscle in his clamped jaw twitching. She could feel his tension coming off him in waves. He was angry…and he was worried.

  She was terrified for Nahkar. But Bevelle’s other words had chilled her too. They were going to sell her off because Darkon hadn’t let himself be hurt out there?