Wrong Alien (TerraMates Book 6)

Home > Romance > Wrong Alien (TerraMates Book 6) > Page 11
Wrong Alien (TerraMates Book 6) Page 11

by Lisa Lace


  Porter reached the door first and knocked loudly, then threw it open when he didn't get a response. She wasn't in the room.

  "Maybe she's in the bathroom," I said, opening the door. I looked around the small, empty room in dismay.

  "Where is she?" Porter asked. I knew he suspected the worst because I did too.

  "I don't know. She's not here."

  There was a commotion in the hallway. The Bureau was beginning a systematic search of the area.

  "We have to go, Jesse. We can't let them catch us."

  I nodded. It would be the end of the Underground if they caught all the leaders. We left, quietly making our way to the garage. It was quiet and dark; apparently the Bureau had left this part of the facility untouched.

  As we sped off into the early morning light, I wondered where Annalee was and if she was okay.

  * * *

  "There must be some way to track her," I said. I was finding it hard to think correctly.

  "You know the Underground exists for a reason, right? It's going to be difficult to find her without any advanced technology. I don't suppose you happened to put a GPS patch on her?" Porter said.

  I shook my head. "If I stored things like that at home, the Bureau would have taken me prisoner along with her. I didn't think it was necessary."

  "Our options are limited, then. We don't have enough manpower to search all Yordbrook on foot."

  "There are only a couple of possibilities, though. The Bureau could have captured her again, or she might have escaped with one of our agents. Either way, we should be able to track her easily. It rained recently, and they probably left a trail."

  "That's right," Porter agreed. "If she's with one of our people, they headed for the rendezvous point, and we'll find her there, assuming the Bureau doesn't know about it already. If the Bureau captured her, then they'll take Annalee to Willford."

  Neither one of us wanted to guess if Annalee was alive or dead.

  "Sounds like we have a plan. Let's find some people to help us look for her."

  By nightfall, we had been unsuccessful. We had found some other members of the Underground who escaped, but she wasn't anywhere in a five-mile radius. I didn't want to give up the search, but Porter made me face reality. The Bureau had captured her.

  We had no choice but to go to Willford. Further searching on foot wasn't going to help. We returned to the hovercraft and Porter set the course.

  "Why do you think they would take Annalee instead of killing her outright? They knew she was a wanted woman."

  "It's likely they circulated her picture as soon as she escaped. Every man ought to have recognized her. There's only one reason I can think of," he said.

  "They're going to use her against me, aren't they?"

  "I think they'll use her to lure you in so they can capture you, and then they'll kill you both and make an example of you. We still don't know where Sheera is either, in case you've forgotten." Porter sighed. "What are we going to do?"

  "The same thing we always do - figure things out as we go along," I said, laughing at him. "Don't worry. Annalee is strong."

  I thought she was strong, but internally I was worried myself. We were going into enemy territory with nothing but our wits.

  ANNALEE

  My guard pushed me roughly into the prison cell. I had spent so much time in Bureau captivity on Yordbrook it seemed like my second home. I stumbled and fell, hitting my head on the corner of a desk in the room.

  "Fuck," I said. I put my hand on my head and felt a trickle of blood running down my face. The guard barely acknowledged my injury as he shut the door.

  I held my hand to my head in an attempt to stop the bleeding. I now had a pounding headache to go along with my sore cheek. My legs started to feel weak, so I sat down on the single chair in the room and surveyed my surroundings.

  The cell was small, cold, and dark. The only illumination came from a high window. It was more like a hole in the wall; it looked barely big enough for my arm to fit through. On the bed was a narrow cot with a wool mattress, like the ones at Jesse's house. A worn but clean sheet and a threadbare blanket completed the furnishings.

  I hoped they treated their prisoners well here. I wasn't sure where I was, but by eavesdropping on the conversations around me, I thought they had moved me to Bureau Headquarters. I didn't know why they bothered. I was just a random off-worlder. Why were they making such a big deal about me?

  They were keeping me alive as bait in a Jesse trap. But they didn't need to bring me here like I was someone important. My hands were free, at least. I slipped off my shoes and sat down to rest.

  I had only been left alone for a minute before the door violently opened, and a blonde woman wearing a bright red dress walked in. Her scarlet hood framed the pale white skin of her beautiful face and made her look terrifying. Her eyes were light blue, like chips of ice.

  She looked at me disdainfully.

  "Get her some proper clothes," she commanded, and walked out again. After a few minutes, another Bureau employee appeared in my cell and threw clothes for me on the floor.

  I waited until he was gone, then picked them up. I sighed, thinking about all the bits and pieces I would be required to wear again. I looked forlornly at my jeans and T-shirt as I pulled them off and started the laborious task of getting dressed in a beige dress and hood.

  Fortunately, it didn't take me as long as I had imagined. I guess I was getting better at dressing myself. I refused to put on my shoes, which didn't fit properly and hurt my feet. I didn't bother with the socks either. The small act of rebellion made me feel better. Soon the door opened again, and the woman returned.

  She held her hands behind her back and began to pace around the room in front of me. The woman was young. She wore a plain navy dress that stretched to her toes and a matching hood that covered her hair. Although we wore similar clothes, she had an aura about her that reminded me of an army commander.

  "Mrs. Melnyk." For a moment, I wondered who she meant. I slowly realized she was addressing me. It was the first time someone called me by my married name, and it felt strange.

  "I have paid careful attention to your stay on Yordbrook. You've done many things in a short period. You started as a simple case of an ignorant off-worlder in flagrant violation of our laws, then became the bride of an Underground leader, and now you're a prisoner of the Bureau of Purity once again."

  "Who are you?" I asked. For some reason, the names of the Bureau agents who kept capturing me were unimportant, but I wanted to know who this person was.

  "I am the head of the Bureau of Purity. You may refer to me as Controller Kozel."

  "How can you be the head if you're a woman?"

  She glared at me.

  "I thought women played a subordinate role in Yordbrook society."

  "That might be true for some jobs, but it's certainly not the rule for the entire planet. I am the fourth female Controller, so there is a precedent. After The Before Times, we thought having women in positions of power would give us a more balanced perspective."

  "Hm," I said, surprised. Obviously, I had more to learn about the people of Yordbrook.

  "I am here to inform you of your pending execution. It will occur immediately before the new queen's ascension to the throne."

  Apparently I wouldn't have much time to learn. "I thought you had a king?"

  "We expect the king to pass away within the next few hours. People are already beginning to prepare for the new queen's coronation. The queen and the Bureau want to start off her new reign on the right foot, so to speak. If we execute you before the coronation, we will discourage any 'revolutionaries' from interfering with the Bureau of Purity.

  An idea occurred to me. "Is it possible to exile me?" I said. I felt ill again at the thought of my beheading. I didn't have anything to lose if I asked for leniency. "As you said, I'm an off-worlder. I was ignorant of your laws."

  "Ignorance is no excuse," she said coldly. I knew then that my fate w
as sealed.

  "Why is the Controller of the Bureau of Purity coming to tell me about my execution? Are you trying to rub it in my face? I already knew that already. Anyone could have reminded me."

  She pressed her lips together. I sensed she was angry about something but was trying to control it.

  "I wanted to see what the wife of an Underground leader looked like before she died and I lost the opportunity. After our latest raids on the Underground, it will be extinguished in a matter of days. It's a glorious time for Yordbrook."

  "We barely know each other," I said. When I looked at her carefully, she seemed to be fuming. She looked at me with contempt and hatred, but I hadn't done anything to engender such feelings.

  I decided to go for broke. I was already going scheduled for execution. What else could happen to me?

  "You're lying," I said, standing and looking at her in the eyes. "Why are you really here?"

  A question from me was all it took to remove her veneer of civility. All her anger was apparent now, and she made no further attempt to hide it. When she finally answered me, it was through clenched teeth.

  "Mr. Melnyk has had a string of women since he was a teenager. I was interested to know who the woman was that finally caught him."

  With how many women had Jesse been intimate? Was she another one of his conquests?

  The Controller looked me over with contempt. "You're not much to look at, are you?"

  People were certainly superficial on this planet. Why was everyone here always commenting on my looks? I wasn't a hag or horribly disfigured. I was an average girl, pretty on a good day. I was getting sick of every alien I met telling me I was ugly.

  I moved forward into her personal space and looked directly into her face. "I may not be much to look at, but Jesse married me. It seems like he prefers me to the others." I glared at her. "Does that upset you, Controller?"

  "Nothing you could say could upset me," she murmured. "Jordan!"

  The Bureau man who brought my clothes stepped into the doorway. This one had a name!

  "Yes, ma'am?"

  "Take the prisoner to the cellar for the night. You can return her immediately before her appointment tomorrow."

  Jordan hesitated. "Are you sure, ma'am? There were no orders to torture her. Does she have valuable information?"

  I blanched and started to sweat. Did he say torture? I had stepped over the line with someone who had complete control over me. Sometimes my mouth said things I regretted, and this was a perfect example.

  "I've changed my mind, Jordan." She turned to me with a wicked smile on her face. "It seems Mrs. Melnyk needs to be taken down a peg or two. This way, she will be properly broken when she appears before the people tomorrow."

  He made one more attempt to help me. "But ma'am..." She cut Jordan off with a sharp hand gesture.

  "Move the prisoner. Don't question me again." She walked out of the cell without another look.

  "Yes, ma'am, right away," Jordan said to Controller Kozel's disappearing back.

  I stepped back until my knees hit the bed and I collapsed.

  "There's no point in resisting, Mrs. Melnyk." Jordan looked apologetic. "It will only make things worse."

  He bound my hands together and grabbed my arm, leading me out the door.

  Chapter 14

  ANNALEE

  I stubbed my toes on the stone floor as the guard dragged me behind him. I tried to keep up the pace, but I fell a couple of times during the long trip to the cellar.

  I regretted my prior decision to show defiance. I needed those shoes. Even socks would have helped protect my feet.

  When he opened a door that led into black darkness, I finally put up some resistance and stopped moving.

  "What's the problem?" he asked gruffly.

  ""I'm not going down there."

  "Of course you are," he said, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. "This is the only way to the dungeons. You should not have antagonized the Controller. Now, instead of spending your last night in a comfortable, clean bed, you are going to spend it screaming."

  Now, instead of spending your last night in a comfortable, clean bed, you are going to spend it screaming."

  He lifted me up and carried me through the portal against my will. On the other side, he put me on the ground again and we descended into the blackness. I stumbled on the stairs only one time, but it was frightening enough to make me be wary.

  "Do these stairs ever stop?"

  "We're almost there."

  In the end, we came out into a broad stone corridor. Flickering torches at intervals in the wall provided light. The area smelled like shit and dirty human. I gagged.

  "Sometimes the terror makes them lose control of their bowels."

  I stopped and stared at the guard, who pulled on my bound hands again. "This way."

  We came to a wooden door at the end of the long hallway. The guard opened it and gently pushed me in. I, of course, tripped over my feet and crashed on the floor. My face smashed onto the ground. I couldn't stop myself because my hands were tied. I blinked away the tears and sat up. My vision was slightly blurred.

  Why couldn't they let me walk through the door like a normal person? I sensed I was about to get more bruises on my body. It didn't matter much if I was going to die in a few hours.

  "What are you going to do to me?"

  I had meant for it to be a harsh demand but it came out as more of a squeak.

  He didn't answer me. He moved to a counter that stood against the wall. My eyes followed his movement and lingered on the counter. Sharp objects covered it. I wasn't interested in learning their purpose.

  When the guard started walking toward me, he held a whip.

  "You don't have to do this," I said, fear filling my heart. "Please, don't."

  "I have orders directly from the Controller." He didn't look me in the eyes. "You brought this on yourself."

  I closed my eyes and broke into a cold sweat. He walked around me and moved to the counter, taking his time while choosing from a selection of knives. I wondered if I would be able to hold onto my dignity. What kind of a person was I? Would I scream, or cry, or beg?

  He took the knife and carefully cut the back of my dress from neck to waist. He neatly separated the pieces flopping into my dress, exposing my naked back to the cold air.

  I heard a clatter on the stone floor. When I turned my head, he had dropped the knife. I gulped. Would I get a reprieve?

  I looked at the weapon on the ground and back to the torturer, in the most doe-eyed manner possible. He still refused to look at me as he unfurled the whip.

  When I saw the whip uncurl, I realized that he couldn't hold the knife and the whip in the same hand. For a second, I thought he was helping me, or didn't want to hurt me. Those thoughts vanished from my mind when I heard the sharp crack of the whip. The next thing I knew, I felt a sting of leather against the tender skin of my back.

  Someone screamed.

  On Earth, I had never been physically hurt before. I made sure to avoid all the bad parts of town and rarely saw violence. No one had ever hit me, and I had never been in a fight. Before the whipping, the worst pain I ever had was when I broke my wrist.

  The lashing on my back hurt more than breaking a bone.

  I don't know how long he waited. Seconds? Minutes? The whip cracked again, on a fresh piece of skin lower on my back. I screamed again. Every stroke hit new nerves I didn't know existed. Tears began rolling down my cheeks, and I wondered how much more I could endure.

  After the sixth lash, I sensed a pattern. He was counting to twelve between each swing. I wondered if he had a reason for it, then the whip came again and I couldn't think. I was close to passing out.

  The guard put the whip down and left the room.

  Without my permission, my mind conjured an image of Jesse, with his handsome smile. I imagined him leaning down to kiss me.

  I cried for what might have been and for everything lost. I was going to die at first l
ight or second light or first light of the second sun or whatever they called it here.

  The guard never came back. My back hurt less now, but I think I was in shock. I went in and out of consciousness, only waking up when my body twisted in my sleep and hurt me enough to force me awake again.

  The night seemed endless. Without anything else to do, I replayed significant moments of my life in my mind. I kept coming back to the ones involving Jesse. It was in the darkest moments that I had the shocking realization I loved Jesse.

  I didn't know how such a thing had happened so quickly. I barely knew him. But I also knew I loved him, as surely as I knew my name. I longed for him to come and save me again. But I was afraid I would be his downfall.

  They only wanted me for bait. I was waiting in a trap that would result in his death. If I saw him again, that would mean they caught him, and he was about to die.

  And secretly, selfishly, I did long to see him again. I needed to get out of here and stay alive so I could see him again and confess my feelings.

  I looked around. The knife lay tantalizingly close to me. I thought it might be close enough for me to grab. I stretched out my foot. It almost touched the blade but couldn't quite reach it. I strained against my bonds, feeling rope cut into my wrists, pushing my body and moving my leg as far as it could go.

  My toe barely touched the knife. It was a good thing I had taken off my shoes in my cell, even though I had wished for them many times. I had stubbed my toes and cut my feet on the way down into the dungeon.

  Unfortunately, the knife moved in the wrong direction. It spun slightly and went further away from my body. I let out a small moan. The sound of my voice made me sick to my stomach. If I couldn't find inner strength, I was going to die.

  I would do whatever I needed to do. I took a deep breath and reached as far as I could, farther than before, feeling the rope bite into my wrists and my muscles stretch to their limit. My toe touched it, and I carefully pulled it back towards me within reach.

  I wanted to jump up for joy, but ropes still bound me, and I wasn't free yet. I reached for the knife and tried to put it between my toes. It took many tries, but I finally picked it up. Now that I was an expert in foot-knife movement, I promptly dropped the blade when I tried to move it to my hand. I had to make three more attempts before I could lift my foot my foot high enough and simultaneously grab the handle with my fingers.

 

‹ Prev