As she started thinking what was going on, Seon emerged from the doorway leading to the bathroom and narrowed his eyes. “You’re awake at last,” he said in a snooty voice. “About time. Did anyone tell you that you snore like a Crodian Rhino?”
“And good morning to you too, Seon,” Zalla drawled.
“Get up,” Seon said brusquely. “I’ve run you a bath and set out a fresh set of clothes. Get yourself ready. He’s expecting you at breakfast.”
No need to guess who ‘he’ was, Zalla thought. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Draz again and tried to play for time, complaining she was still very tired. Seon was having none of it though, and pulled her out of bed.
Ten minutes later, he’d had her bathed and perfumed and dressed in an elegant Sari-like gown of light pink material. Chivvying her out of the suite of apartments, Seon took her through the winding corridors and up several marble staircases until they reached a huge archway that opened out onto wide balcony.
The balcony commanded a panoramic view of the desert, shimmering in the morning sun. Draz was seated at a small table set out on the balcony, munching on several bowls of fruit and what looked like yogurt.
“Ah, good morning Zalla,” he said cheerfully as Seon escorted her to the table and pushed her into the vacant chair opposite. “I trust you slept well?”
“I slept fine,” Zalla replied sullenly.
“Now, my desert flower, why so surly?” Draz asked in a gentle voice, seeming to have forgotten the intense encounter of the previous night. “Why don’t you have something to eat? You must be starving.”
Zalla glared at him from across the table. “You seem to be in a better mood today,” she said. “I’ve been here for more than five seconds and you haven’t tried to pin me down and rip my clothes off.”
The serene smile on Draz’s face faltered a little. “Some mala juice?” he asked blithely. “It is freshly squeezed.”
He got to his feet and poured her a glass of the juice from the silver jug on the table. Clad only in a pair of silvery pantaloons, Zalla got an ample view of his smooth and well-defined chest.
Though she tried to fight it, she couldn’t help but admire his well developed pectorals and finely chiselled six-pack. For a moment, she fantasized about brushing her lips along the contours of that gorgeous chest of his.
“I understand we got off to a bad start,” Draz said, dragging her out of her daydream. He had sat back down again and was looking at her intently. “For that I apologize. You might be a slave, but that does not mean there has to be any hostility between us. I want our time together to be agreeable.”
Zalla took a welcome swig of the sweet tasting mala juice, and tried not to let his charming voice and boyish looks get the better of her. She’d been around too many newsrooms and chauvinistic editors in her time to be taken in by the soft sell. Well, two could play at that game.
“You’ve got to understand that’s not so easy for me,” she said in a careful voice. “On my world, slavery has been outlawed.”
Outside, the sun was reaching its peak and the heat had become brutally intense. Draz nodded his head thoughtfully and made a lazy gesture with his hand.
From out of the shadowy interior of the chamber, two hulking buffalo men from the Lyker System lumbered onto the balcony, each of them carrying gold staffs mounted with wide feather fans.
After taking up suitable positions, the buffalo men started wafting cool air in the direction of the couple at the table. Zalla grimaced, annoyed that they were being forced to do much a menial task.
“Slavery is not so bad,” Draz said airily. “Here in the Rogue Zone, many worlds suffer terrible poverty and being a slave of a Vakrallan can have its advantages.
They are provided with a roof over their head and food in their belly and are allowed to carry out a variety of different careers. Those who serve well have the chance to be free again if their master so wills it. In fact, you could say we provide a vital and important service to this part of the galaxy.”
“What about the Vakrallan Slave Caste?” Zalla retorted sharply. “They are genetically manipulated to become a servitor species. They have no rights or privileges at all, and the only freedom they can look forward to is dropping dead from exhaustion!”
Despite the heat, the temperature on the balcony dropped several notches. Seon, who had been lurking in the background, shook his head in disgust. Zalla ignored him and kept her attention fixed on Draz.
“You seem incredibly well informed on Vakrallan society, Zalla,” Draz said slowly, not looking at her and fingering the stem of his drinking glass.
“I’m a reporter working deep space,” Zalla said with a shrug. “It’s my job to know about other cultures, though I use the term ‘culture’ very broadly when referring to the Vakrallan Dominance.”
He looked up at her then and his eyes blazed with seething fury. Zalla was taken aback by the ferocity of his gaze and Seon smiled nastily from behind Draz.
“There is more to my ‘culture’ than meets the eye, especially for an outsider,” he said icily. “Once you’ve been here for a while, you will begin to understand that.”
Zalla felt a retort jump to her lips but a warning glare from Seon stopped her from saying it out loud. The brutal and ruthless Draz that she had seen the previous day had returned with a vengeance, and she was sure if she said the wrong thing now, it would have disastrous consequences. She took a deep breath and looked out at the view from the balcony.
Vakrall stretched out oppressive and bleak, reflecting the harsh natures of the people who lived here. A wave of helplessness overcame her as the true severity of her situation hit home. She was trapped and there was no chance of escaping, not unless she took her own life. The idea scared her. Surely she wasn’t that desperate?
As she dwelled on it, her eye suddenly caught something else in the sprawling courtyard below. At the far corner, close to the wall was a small flying craft.
Sleek and skeletal, it was not meant for space travel. But if she got to it, she might be able to pilot it to Canx and then from there, maybe get passage on the next ship off this miserable rock. It was a long shot by any stretch of the imagination, but at this point, she was desperate to try anything.
“A reporter,” Draz muttered darkly.
Pulling her gaze away from the craft and potential freedom, Zalla looked at him and frowned. “Excuse me?”
Draz sat back in his chair and brushed a hand along his chest. Zalla found the motion shockingly erotic. “I know all about the propaganda your Earth media outlets spew out about the Dominance,” he said levelly. “You should look closer to home if you want to find examples of injustice.
If Earth’s United Government really cared about the poor, oppressed peoples of the Rogue Zone, they would have launched a war against us by now. Instead, they buy weapons and assault robots supplied by the Vakrallan Trader Caste, and pay the Warrior Caste ground rent so that they build sprawling city-factories on the poorest of our worlds, working the natives to death and paying them starvation wages, while your corporations reap fat profits. No wonder, many of them find slavery more preferable.”
“Point taken,” Zalla said, her mind now racing as she tried to conceive an escape plan.
Draz rested his large hands on the table and sighed heavily. “I don’t want to fight. I bought you because I find you attractive. I still do, despite your fiery tongue. Please, let us just talk, get to know each other. I want to know more about you.”
Zalla shot another glance at the flying craft and sat back in her seat. “Okay,” she said, mustering a faint smile. “What do you want to know?”
Draz grinned, looking for the entire world like an excited schoolboy. Zalla tried not to find him cute. “Well, why did you decide to become a reporter?”
Zalla thought about this for a moment. “I’m not sure really,” she said at length. “It’s hard to put into words. I just felt drawn to it.”
Draz nodded. “Were your family
in the same line of work?”
Zalla shook her head. “I don’t have any family, not living anyway.”
“I see. It can be difficult to make a life without kin to support you, even my Caste appreciates that.”
“I wouldn’t really know about that,” Zalla said with a shrug. “I’ve been on my own for as long as I can remember. My parents were killed when I was a baby.
They were aboard a star cruiser going from Earth to an archaeological dig on one of the hive worlds that belonged to the Mantis Empire when there was an explosion in the engine chamber that destroyed the whole ship.
My parents were archaeologists, experts in the field of archaic intergalactic species. I’d just been born when they received the opportunity to go and investigate a new site that had been uncovered.
At first, my mom was going to stay with me but it was too great a chance to miss up on and it would be too inconvenient to take me along and get any real research done.
So, while my mom and dad went off to dig up insect fossils, I got dumped with my dad’s sister for the duration. Lucky for me, they didn’t want a screaming brat around or I wouldn’t be around today to tell the story.”
“You sound angry with them for leaving you behind,” Draz said.
Zalla gave him a bleak smile. “Why should I be angry? I never knew either of them and they obvious didn’t want me cramping their style or they wouldn’t have left me on Earth.”
“They did you a favor in my opinion,” Draz replied. He gave her an appreciative look. “They did me a favor too, but you can’t deny you feel resentment for them.”
“When I got older and found out the story of how they died, I did feel resentment. In my mind, they had abandoned me and I felt they loved their work more than they ever loved me. My aunt, dad’s sister, also blamed me for their deaths, though I never could figure out why.
I guess it’s because she didn’t want me around. She was single and had a successful career in archaeology too, and the last thing she wanted was to have to bring up a kid.
It didn’t help that she also had a terrible drinking problem, brought about by the accident. She couldn’t cope with me and as soon as she could, I got packed off to a children’s home where I could be assigned new parents. I was four years old.”
Draz nodded thoughtfully. “You didn’t get new parents, I take it?”
Zalla couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you kidding? I was a little horror!” she declared. She took another drink of her juice as she started to feel more relaxed.
“I caused so much trouble and was so destructive, no parent wanted to take me on. I was the typical problem child and that suited me fine. I didn’t want anyone to love me and I’d spent so long looking after myself I was happy to be on my own.
As I got older, my behavior got worse and I started getting into petty crime, dabbling in drugs that kind of thing. I went from one correctional facility to another and I was also looking at jail time for a while until I was convinced to change my ways.”
“What happened?” Draz said, watching her raptly. “What made you suddenly change?”
“I had a stark moment of revelation,” Zalla said as dark memories rose up in her mind.
“I’d been partying hard one night and thought it would be a bright idea to go for a drive in my jet-car while under the influence. I was speeding along the hyper-way when a little girl ran out in front of me. She just seemed to come out of nowhere and if I hadn’t managed to swerve to avoid her, she’d be dead.
I saw the terror in her eyes for a split-second and I’ll never forget that moment. I realized that by trying to ruin my life, I’d inadvertently almost taken a life and no doubt ruined the lives of the girl’s parents and her family.
I stopped the jet-car and went back to check if she was okay, but the girl had disappeared completely. That moment stayed with me, and I made a decision to behave differently.
I’d had a second chance to be better than I was and I took it with both hands. There was a trust fund set up by my parents that became available to me when I turned eighteen. I used the money to put myself through college and got a degree in journalism.”
Draz nodded thoughtfully. “You are an interesting person, Zalla. You have character to you, strength, determination, I admire that.”
“I don’t know about that,” Zalla said, slumping lower in her chair. It felt good talking about what had shaped her. It had been a long time since she’d had a decent conversation even if it was with an alien warlord who had bought her at a slave auction.
In fact, she felt good all over as if she’d been drinking alcohol. She suddenly eyed the half empty glass of juice in front of her.
As if sensing her line of reasoning, Draz got to his feet. “I am glad we have been able to have a more civilized conversation,” he said, his eyes glimmering softly. “You see, life here might not be as bad as your life before.”
Zalla blinked at him, her head feeling a little woozy. “You son of a bitch, you drugged my drink!”
Draz shrugged his broad shoulders. “I merely added a little something to make you more relaxed. There really is no need to fear me. I want to look after you.”
With a predatory grace, he padded round the table and knelt down next to her. His clean, fresh scent lapped over her. “It is called Kama Wine, what I added to the juice. I’ve taken some as well. It makes one lose their inhibitions; I thought we could both do with loosening up. Just relax and go with the flow.”
“You had no right to do that,” Zalla protested, feeling a warm flush to her cheeks. The closeness of Draz’s toned, powerful body made her tingle and an aching wet welled from between her legs. She bit down on her frustration. The cheeky bastard had given her an aphrodisiac and there was nothing she could do to fight it!
Draz leaned forward and brushed his face against her hair. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, “a jewel among the stars. It was fate that brought you to Vakrall. We are meant to be together, I feel it in my soul. You are my one true mate.”
His hand moved down to brush against her breast and Zalla let out a throaty moan. Her desire for him was an all-consuming force that she couldn’t deny. She looked at him with fearful eyes and his burning gaze devoured her.
He leaned forward and their noses brushed together and they stayed in that pose, drinking each other in. His eager hand drifted lower along her body and slipped between her legs. Strong fingers found the peach wet swell of her pussy through the flimsy material of the dress.
“Oh Draz,” she murmured. “No, we mustn’t!”
“You can’t deny it,” Draz whispered hoarsely. “Surrender yourself to me.” His hand hitched up her dress and connected with bare skin. He pressed himself against her as he moved up and found her moist pussy. Thunderclaps of pleasure erupted inside her as his fingers played with the silky folds of her pussy lips.
“No!” she suddenly yelled. “I can’t do this!”
With brutal vehemence, her willpower returned in force. She had controlled her sexual desires for so long, waiting for the right man to take her. Even the effects of the aphrodisiac could not truly dispel her inhibitions. She was her old self again in a second, and her natural defiance kicked in.
“Get off me!” she snarled, trying to push away the hand under her dress.
“No, don’t fight it,” Draz urged. He brought up his other hand to stroke her face. “Let yourself go.”
“Like hell I will!” growled Zalla and bit the fingers of his consoling hand.
Draz yelped in a comically high-pitched voice, and instinctively pulled away from her. Zalla scrambled out of the chair, knocking the table over in the process.
Before she could do anything more though, one of the buffalo men had lurched forward and grabbed her. Holding her firmly in his claws, the slave pulled her round to face his master.
“Shall I have her tied down?” Seon asked in a flat voice, watching the chaotic proceedings with a bored look on his face.
Zalla’
s eyes widened and she stared at Draz. He had recovered from the shock of her lashing out, and now stood near the balcony, his face dark and thunderous. “No,” he said in a cold voice. “Get her out of my sight. Now!”
Zalla flinched at the harshness of his tone, and fear gripped her. The buffalo men dragged her away, sweeping her along so that her feet barely scuffed the floor. Seon strode alongside them.
“Stupid bitch,” the cat boy muttered when they were out of Draz’s earshot. “Carry on like this and you’ll get yourself beheaded.”
Zalla said nothing. From the look on Draz’s face back there when she rejected him for a second time, she could well believe it. She was half-expecting the warrior to call her back and execute her there and now.
He certainly must be tempted to do so. As it was the order never came, but she knew she was on borrowed time. She had to get away from him as soon as possible.
Chapter 4: Changing Perspectives
As darkness settled over the palace, Zalla stole through the dimly lit corridors, searching for a doorway out to the courtyard and the flying craft parked near the outer wall.
A noise behind her almost made her jump of her skin, and she darted for cover inside a nearby alcove. Silence returned and when no other sound came, she cautiously emerged from her hiding place and carried on, just hoping she didn’t run into any of the guards or household staff. She couldn’t truly believe her luck could hold out forever.
She still couldn’t get over how ridiculously easy it had been to get out of Draz’s apartments. After the tense encounter with the warrior this morning, she had been dumped back in the bedroom and left on her own.
For many hours after, Zalla had cried and slept intermittingly until hunger pains kicked in. She desperately needed something to eat and it looked like nobody was going to come to feed her. She decided to risk a peek outside the suite and ask one of the guards if she could get a meal.
Sold to the Warlord (Astral Heat Book 2) Page 3