Clan and Commit (Clan Beginnings Book 7)

by Tracy St. John

  “Okay. So?” Vax shifted from foot to foot, needing to go somewhere. To do something.

  “This area has too many people. He’ll want to keep Bacoj as isolated as possible. We’re in the wrong spot. Come on.”

  They continued down the street, and the surroundings became even more desperate in appearance. Vax stared in all directions for any clue to his beloved’s whereabouts. Since it was certain Bacoj wouldn’t be out in the open, he had no idea what exactly he should be searching for.

  They slowed again when Japohn’s com beeped. “Yeah? No kidding. We’re in that area now. Okay, thanks.” He clicked off and glanced at Vax. A hint of satisfaction on his angry features gave the Imdiko a real spark of optimism. “That was my undercover contact. Bek is under constant surveillance by enforcement, and he routinely sweeps his property for trackers and bugs. Even so, a few of the shuttles believed to belong to him are still on the grid as of this morning. One showed up near our inn, then came out to this district less than an hour ago.”

  Vax’s heart sped up. “That must have been the shuttle they took Bacoj with.”

  “They stopped just up the next block. There are several supposedly empty storage facilities there. A shell company owns most of them. There’s a good chance that company belongs to Bek.”

  Their pace had picked up as Japohn spoke. He wasn’t quite running, but the Nobek’s long legs ate up the distance. Vax broke into a trot to keep up.

  * * * *

  Bacoj’s confused state ended when his surroundings lit up. Blinded, he squeezed his eyes shut.

  An all-too-familiar voice mocked him. “It’s about time lover boy finally woke up. Those idiots dosed you a little too well. That’s okay. I’ve been enjoying the anticipation.”

  Karil’s laugh echoed in Bacoj’s ears, screeching and strange. The Dramok’s scattered thoughts began to coalesce around the idea he was in an enclosed space. But where?

  He opened his eyes to slits, trying to adjust to the brightness after lying in the dark. His long lashes filtered the worst of it, but all Bacoj could discern were a few shadows in the light.

  That changed as a large shape stomped close, looming over him. At last, Bacoj could discern scuffed black boots, the toes of which were only a couple of inches from his head. Then Karil’s hectic mug filled his vision as the Nobek bent to leer at him.

  “I got you, lover boy. I hope plugging Vax’s ass was worth what’s coming to you. I can’t wait to cut you up. It’ll be a nice prelude for when I catch up with Vax later down the road.”

  The threat helped clear the remaining muddle from Bacoj’s brain. He glared at Karil, snarling past the wad of fabric in his mouth and whatever sealed his lips shut.

  “You poor bastard. You know he loves you, right? He bawled like a baby when I commed and told him what I would do to you. How hard will he cry when he sees what his stupidity brought on? When he gets everything that’s coming to him?” Chuckling, Karil straightened and plodded away.

  Bacoj’s sight had adjusted during Karil’s boasting, and he was able to see his surroundings. He lay in a small, dingy room with no furniture. The hard, gray floor was filthy with dirt and assorted trash. No windows. A few steps leading up to a sealed door. At least he wasn’t naked, as he’d dreamed he was. Bacoj was still fully clothed—it didn’t a real difference in any event, but for some reason, it made him feel less vulnerable.

  He was tied up. That part he hadn’t imagined. Thick cords bound his ankles together, and his arms were lashed behind his back. He pulled at the restraints, but there was no give. He couldn’t break loose.

  Karil was near the other end of the space, opening a bulky carryall type of bag. The Nobek looked at its contents before grinning at Bacoj.

  “This is going to be such fun. I had planned to wait to celebrate my long-awaited victory, but why should I? Why not indulge myself in my two favorite activities at once? Getting high and making someone die. Hey, that rhymed!” He laughed and pulled out a cruel-looking injector, the archaic kind with a thick needle meant for stabbing into the flesh.

  Fear flashed through Bacoj at the sight—not because of the pain it would inflict, but because he had no idea what sort of drugs Karil planned to use on him. Worse still, the injector appeared as if it had been used in the past. And never cleaned. It had to be crawling with pathogens.

  Karil licked his lips as he inserted an ampule filled with red liquid into the device’s cartridge. He gazed at it a moment, his expression as warm as a devoted lover. He pulled up his shirt to expose a scar-covered abdomen. He jabbed the needle into himself, wincing only slightly as he sent the ampule’s contents into his body.

  Bacoj stared in horror. This was how Karil took Elate? He assumed that was what the Nobek was injecting himself with. It was ghastly, and Bacoj went cold to think how addictive a substance must be for its victims to be willing to do such a thing to themselves.

  A moment later, the injector clattered to the floor. Karil shuddered, a violent grin spreading over his face. His breathing grew quick, almost panting. “Oh yeah. That’s the stuff. Ancestors, how I missed this.” His avid gaze found Bacoj, and the screaming smile grew until Bacoj was sure his lips would split. “Want some? Sorry, I never learned to share. It’s all mine. And it’s good.”

  He headed for Bacoj, his motions jerking like a poorly operated marionette. He stared at Bacoj, his eyes bugging from his crazed features. “Ready for some fun? I am. I’m overdue for real entertainment. Gonna fuck you up, lover boy. Gonna fuck you up and kill you slow.”

  He punched Bacoj in the stomach. His insane grin stretched his lips at the Dramok’s hurt cry, so much so that he appeared a caricature of himself. He sat on Bacoj’s legs, keeping his prisoner from curling up to protect himself before hammering his fist into his gut again.

  “Atta boy. Scream for me. You know, there’s a fine line between causing pain and giving you internal injuries. I’ll try to work up to the damaging stuff slowly, but Elate—aw man, it’s tough to pull your punches when that slice of heaven is singing through your veins.”

  He hammered Bacoj again, and the bolt of agony made the Dramok scream. The sound was muffled by the gag, but Karil delighted in it. He laughed, the joyous sound ringing maniacally as he continued to punch Bacoj over and over.

  It went on for several hellish seconds, maybe a minute, before Karil suddenly stopped. Still laughing, he shook his head. “Aw man, I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be vidding this to show Vax. Okay, let’s reset for take two.”

  He got to his feet. In the depths of his misery, Bacoj noted how Karil leaned precariously, as if he would fall on top of him. Somehow, the Nobek managed to keep his feet, and he stumbled back to the bag he’d taken the injector and drugs from.

  Bacoj inhaled his first breath since the beating had begun, and his stomach protested with howling anguish. He groaned, in too much agony to move.

  Mother of All, let me lose consciousness quickly when he starts on me again.

  Listing from side to side, Karil shoved the carryall’s contents around, searching. The clattering echoed in the chamber. “Don’t worry. I swear I’ll get it right, I’ll get it right. I won’t let you down, Huk. Here we go.”

  He wrested a large bottle out of the bag and held it aloft with triumph. Bacoj’s heart stuttered when he recognized the label of a popular brand of sensitizing gel. It was the same kind he’d bought to enjoy with Vax.

  Karil started for him. “I’m gonna strip you bare and cover you from head to toe in gel. Try not to get excited about that. Trust me, you’re not my type. This is for pain, not pleasure, fuckboy. Every last inch of you is about to wear my marks, and I insist you feel it to the fullest when I put them on you.”

  He squatted on the floor, setting the bottle down. He yanked Bacoj’s shoes off, then struggled with the knots in the cord tying Bacoj’s ankles. He paused and regarded the Dramok suspiciously.

  “Don’t entertain any ideas, shithead. You make a move to kick me or fight in any way, I
’ll break both your legs here and now. Got it?”

  Hardly believing his luck, Bacoj nodded. Karil was so stoned, it hadn’t occurred to him to simply cut Bacoj’s clothes off with the big blade he wore on his belt.

  He was also too high to suspect Bacoj might agree from any inclination but terrified obedience. The Dramok had heard an effect of Elate was to fool its user into feeling unstoppable and all-powerful. Karil certainly exhibited signs of that sort of mania.

  Sniggering at his perceived power, Karil struggled to untie the cord. Bacoj lay quiescent, fighting not to writhe from the torment in his gut. This would be his only chance to escape, whether his belly felt it was being sawn into or not. He had to overcome the torment, or he’d die in this wretched room.

  Karil grunted in satisfaction, the cord falling from Bacoj’s legs. He rose and reached for Bacoj’s waistband. The Dramok, chomping down on the oily-flavored material filling his mouth, tucked his knees into his chest. Before his antagonist could react, he drove his legs with all the power he could muster, slamming his feet into Karil’s knee.

  Both men screamed, Karil flailing as he hit the ground with a resounding thud. Though his stomach wailed with brutalizing anguish, Bacoj jumped to his feet and ran for the door.

  He managed to reach it, but his wrists were still bound behind his back. Gagged, he couldn’t order the automatic door open. He twisted about, his fingers reaching for the manual release.

  He turned into Karil’s swinging fist. Bacoj’s jaw went numb for an instant. As he crashed to the concrete floor, pain flooded his face. It was barely noticeable compared to the relentless anguish of his belly.

  His miseries doubled as Karil picked him up and threw him halfway across the room. The Nobek stormed to him, and Bacoj kicked out in desperation, again aiming for the vulnerable knees.

  Karil avoided the blows easily. “Like to kick, do you? You have a thing for kicking, you worthless little shit? All right. Let’s see how you like this!”

  All was an avalanche of agony as his boots thudded the length of Bacoj’s body.

  * * * *

  The search area Japohn led Vax to had been narrowed down to a single street littered with broken-down shuttles. It was a limited space, but that neighborhood had a lot of storage facilities and warehouses—too many places to investigate if they were to find Bacoj before Karil decided to hurt him. Too much time had already passed. Japohn hid his growing anxiety from Vax, but it bit at him with sharp teeth.

  The Nobek could have forced his way into the various derelict buildings, but it would take a long while to investigate them all. Not to mention, these were the dens of the most desperate of Ler’s inhabitants. Most were armed and not afraid to show it. Invade the wrong place, and the Kalquorians would be dead.

  Japohn stuck to questioning the junkies, none of whom were looking for a fight. A few were even able to give him coherent answers. A Kalquorian in such a place stuck out, and while no one had seen a man answering Bacoj’s description, Karil had been spotted.

  Thanks to a tip, Japohn and Vax visited a small shop that sold a little of everything, its variety of used items most probably pawned for drug money. There, they hit pay dirt. Karil had shown up and bought vid equipment, an iron pipe, a hammer, and a large bottle of sensitizing gel. That was all the shopkeeper was able to tell them, so they headed out again.

  “Why do Karil’s purchases make me feel sick?” Vax asked, his voice trembling.

  “Because they should.” Taken together, it spelled a horrible scenario for Bacoj. Japohn took some comfort in the fact Karil had done his shopping less than an hour before.

  As they wandered down the street, looking for more addicts to question, Japohn noted a one-eyed Dantovonian watching them. The Dantovonian, an obvious drug dealer and pimp, smirked as they neared. “This neighborhood’s overrun by you Kalquorians. I can tell you don’t want to get high. Maybe you’d enjoy some exercise for those double prongs you sport? My girls are topnotch.”

  He nods toward a trio of prostitutes, a pair of Dantovonians and an Isetacian. Missing eyes and various appendages, they were a long distance from topnotch. The Isetacian coughed nonstop.

  “How about information? We’re looking for the Kalquorian you saw earlier.” Japohn affected casualness, though with Vax wearing panic like a second skin, he shouldn’t have bothered.

  “What’ll it profit me?”

  Armed with Japohn’s advice, Vax named a reasonable amount from the private savings he’d set aside for his future restaurant. The Dantovonian countered with a higher, but not outrageous sum.

  Upon agreement, the dealer said, “Your guy bought an ampule of Elate and an injector off me. Don’t know anything else about him.”

  “How about which direction he went? Did you see if he entered any of these buildings?”

  “He turned off between the third and fourth storage buildings that way. I don’t know if he went in either.”

  Japohn’s heart leapt. Down to two possible targets, it was no longer out of the question they’d find Karil, and maybe Bacoj. “Thanks. Come on, Vax.” He broke into a run with the Imdiko on his heels.

  * * * *

  Bacoj winced as the vid recorder’s light speared his vision. Its glaring spotlight was far from the least of his worries, however.

  Karil had beaten him bloody. Then, as Bacoj lay half-conscious, the Nobek had stripped him naked and smeared sensitizing gel all over his bruised body, mixing it with the blood without care. Bacoj was a knot of raw agony, and he gasped breathlessly as Karil set up his vid equipment. The gag had been removed, but his screams for help hadn’t brought rescue.

  “People in this area mind their business. It keeps them alive longer. You go right ahead and yell. When I start hurting you for real, you can beg for mercy too. I want to hear every word of that.” It was one of the few coherent statements Karil had managed as the drug pulled him farther and farther from the real world.

  Even over his anguished heaves for air, Bacoj heard the Nobek muttering to himself in a happy tone. The few words he deciphered through the roaring in his ears made no sense. Most of the man’s speech was garbled. Karil lurched about as he clumsily set about his task, laughing in sporadic bursts. He seemed particularly delighted when he glanced at Bacoj, like a child anticipating a present. The Elate he’d taken was inhibiting the rate at which he worked, but he was making progress all the same.

  I’m going to die at the hands of this ridiculous, strung-out jackass. On top of the physical misery, Bacoj felt humiliated. There would be no dignity in his death, and for some reason, that infuriated him the worst.

  The room grayed out on occasion. Each time, Bacoj hoped he’d stay gone, that he wouldn’t have to wake up to face the horror of his coming murder. Unfortunately, consciousness kept returning, spurred by agony too great to ignore.

  Then came the moment he’d dreaded. He’d drifted off again, once more pleading with his beaten body to let him stay in the dark, to grant him a far easier out than what Karil planned. Seconds or minutes later, he jerked awake with a scream. White-hot misery sent sharp bolts through his chest.

  Karil stood over him, poking his chest with a knife. The point didn’t cut deeply, but it felt as if acid was eating holes in Bacoj’s flesh. He screamed again.

  Karil giggled, a bizarre sound to come from such a brutish creature. “Wake up, lover boy. It’s show time.”

  He drew the knife down from the middle of Bacoj’s chest to the base of his primary. The cut was shallow, barely more than a scratch, but the sensitizing gel amped up the pain until it was horrendous. A strangled scream squeezed out from between the Dramok’s clenched teeth.

  Karil giggled again. “Your shrieks are music to my ears. Now how should I go about this? Do I slice your cocks into ribbons to start the festivities? Cut them off and shove them in your mouth? Hmm, maybe that should happen later. But not last. No, the pipe comes last. Guess where that will go? Want to guess, fuckboy? No? Okay, I’ll let it be a surprise.”r />
  He shifted, moving down the length of Bacoj’s feet, which were bound once more. “Let’s warm up by cutting off your toes. We’ll build slowly to the big crescendo. You want to give Vax a decent show, don’t you? Let him have his money’s worth.”

  Karil sat on Bacoj’s legs. He grabbed the Dramok’s smallest toe. The cold blade set against it. Bacoj squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the coming torture…as if that were truly possible.

  Something buzzed. Karil started and looked toward the door as the lock beeped. “What the hell?”

  The door hissed open, and a huge, angry Kalquorian burst into the room, his face so inhumanly bestial that it took Bacoj a second to recognize him.

  “Japohn!”

  The brutish features darkened with fury as the Nobek stared at Bacoj and Karil. The howl of rage that erupted couldn’t have originated from the throat of a civilized being. It was primitive, animal, without a note of rationality.

  Karil shot to his feet and roared in return. Both men shot toward each other and met in the middle, the thuds of their bodies punctuated by the clatter and crash of the vid equipment they ran over to get to each other. Karil’s knife went spinning through the air. Monstrous as Japohn had become, he’d wisely made disarming his foe the first order of business.

  In the next few minutes, Bacoj found unwilling respect for Karil’s fighting abilities. Perhaps the addict was aided by the drug he’d taken, heightening his energy and ability to disregard pain. There was some skill too, and at the start of their contest, he gave the bigger Japohn a run for his money, matching him blow for blow as they careened about the room.

  However, it soon became clear who was the stronger and smarter of the combatants. Japohn was a wonder to behold as he deflected Karil’s attacks and landed far more of his own. For such a muscled bruiser, Japohn was remarkably agile and far quicker than his slighter opponent. Indeed, Bacoj thought Japohn was swifter than anyone he’d ever seen fight. The Nobek was a study in precision and grace. No move was wasted, no punch or kick sloppy. He damned near floated as he picked Karil’s defenses apart.