by Raven Dark
What did I expect from him? Comfort? Tenderness? Those things were beyond him.
As he adjusted my hair around the muzzle’s strap, I laid my hand on his. Our fingers brushed and heat jolted up my arm. He paused but didn’t look at me.
Even if I could have spoken, what could I possibly say that would make any sense? I didn’t know, so when he finally returned my gaze, we just stared at each other.
He looked tired, perhaps resigned, but his expression gave me nothing else. I deflated. After making sure the muzzle was in place, he looked me over. He didn’t give me a poncho, instead leaving that God-awful slave’s dress clearly displayed for all to see. He clapped the cuffs on my wrists, and they buzzed, activating. He patted my thighs lightly and stood.
The depressive hole I was slipping into deepened.
The voices drifting from down the track grew louder, more distinct. We rounded a bend in the track, and I sat up straighter, my anxiety mounting.
A huge crowd of what must have been a hundred aliens stood in long lines on the paved path to either side where the track split into several others. The people appeared to be waiting for something.
Here, the area was illuminated with white lights, so it was easy to see. My eyes widened. Most of the aliens looked as human as my captors, dressed in dark colored leathers, tunics, or ponchos like we wore. A few wore finer looking robes or drapes. But a handful of aliens couldn’t have looked less human. I saw a few with iridescent blue, white, or gold skin, with scale-like patches on their faces and bared arms. One had a face that seemed to be nothing but eyes.
The alien-ness of this world slammed home, draining the blood from my face. Wow.
I realized I’d grabbed Raul’s arm and drew back, looking up at him. His eyes danced with humor, but it was subdued. He glanced at Tarku and then leaned down toward me, his palm hot on my nape.
His voice rumbled low and mocking in my ear. “By the way. Tarku’s name? It means Battle Wolf.”
My eyes widened. Figures. The name sounded as badass as Raul’s. As badass as I knew Tarku secretly became when the need arose.
Malek drove the cart past the rows of clamoring, waiting aliens until he reached the end of our track where he halted the vehicle and cut the engine. The cart’s lights shut off.
“What do you want to do, Raul?” Malek adjusted his hood, pulling it deeper over his face.
“I’ll handle it.” Raul opened the door to the cart and stepped out. With a clicking noise from him and a tug on the dog’s leash, Tarku followed him. “Z’pheer, take care of our nayna.”
“Come here, ra alia.” Z’pheer tugged me to my feet and wound my leash around his fist, his tone low. “Stay close to me at all times. Don’t look anyone directly in the eyes and don’t make a sound.”
I nodded. Even if I hadn’t been too scared to speak or had the nuzzle on, I wouldn’t have argued. He stepped out of the cart and I followed. Z’pheer shut the vehicle door, and the men grabbed their packs and bedrolls, slinging them over their shoulders.
I sneaked a quick look around at the crowd, carefully avoiding eye contact. Dozens of voices talked over each other, most of them sounding irritated and impatient. Here and there, a handful of men were dressed in all black outfits with an insignia that looked like a fanged, armored wolf on the breasts of their tunics. Some carried steel rods that reminded me of billy clubs in their hands, and others carried whips like Raul’s, with sharp blades on the ends. All were men, and all wore the stern expressions of officers not to be messed with.
Xandari cops? I shivered.
For once, I was glad for the infernal muzzle. If not for that, I didn’t know if I could have kept myself from asking the million questions that raced through my thoughts.
Raul strode toward a high, iron gate that stood beyond the crowd with Tarku at his side. Malek kept a pace behind Raul, but vigilance pounded off him. He kept closer than normal, scanning the crowd, ever the protector. Z’pheer kept a firm hand on my nape, pressing close.
I’d never been claustrophobic, but with a crowd of alien beings pressing in on all sides, and voices clamoring over each other, it felt as if the walls were closing in on me. Not daring to look up into the face of a man who was supposed to be my master, I couldn’t help pressing closer to Z’pheer.
We reached the gate. Two guards in black uniforms with the wolf insignia stepped forward, one putting out a gloved hand, keeping us back.
“Passes,” the other one demanded, his sharp purple eyes looking us over with suspicion.
I had a nearly overwhelming urge to say “Multi-pass” and it made me profoundly sad that no one here would have seen The Fifth Element.
Raul leaned in toward the guard, speaking in a voice so low I couldn’t make out his words. He pulled back the end of one glove and showed the guard his bracelet.
The guard’s eyes went huge. “My apologies, your—”
Raul shook his head, gesturing covertly for him to be quiet. “These three are with me.” He nodded to Malek, Z’pheer, and myself.
“As you wish, your… er…as you wish.” The guard turned and elbowed several people near him out of his way, striding the last few feet to the gate. “Let us pass. Move aside, let us pass!”
Several dozen people shouted in anger at us being allowed to go in ahead of them. The guards growled at them to shut up and flashed their weapons when one or two people tried to push past us.
So, I’d been right. Raul was some sort of bigwig on this planet.
We walked down a well-lit, crowded hallway of sanded stone walls and a floor covered in what looked like cement. I felt my brows climb.
The corridor stretched on for miles, veering off into several tunnels that went left and right. Down the length of the passage, people sat along the walls with bundles and bedrolls near them, some in clusters and talking in low voices, others sitting alone. I stole a look at them.
Fucking hell. Every face I saw was smeared with days of dirt and grime, every head of hair mussed. A cut grazed a cheek or knee here and there, and one person had a bandage around his head, blood seeping through the white cloth. Without exception, every pair of eyes looked tired and worn, filled with fear.
These people had endured something that stuck with them, something that shook them to the core. They’d watched their world go up in smoke at the hands of the Rith. They looked broken, a people who’d lost everything.
“It looks like they’ve already taken most of the people from Dohm Kador in here already, Raul.” Malek leaned toward him, his voice almost a rasp.
Raul nodded. “They’ve probably filled this place well beyond the capacity it was built for. It’s going to make for tight quarters. I’ll make sure they have enough supplies after I’ve seen him.”
“If you ask me, they should have built more shelters like this one since the first attack,” Malek growled. “There wouldn’t have been enough of them to hide a quarter of the world’s populace, and the ones we do have only have enough rations for a few months.”
“The Rith will be defeated long before that. The Order will see to it and so will my father.”
His father would see to it? Was his father the president of the Order or something?
Here and there, people coughed, snagging my attention, and I heard a baby crying close by. I didn’t dare look too long at anyone; I was supposed to be a slave, after all, but I couldn’t help flicking a glance at one or two of the people we passed. A scared little boy sitting on the knee of a man who must have been his father, and another little boy who clung to his father’s long legs, peeking out from behind them. Having seen the devastation the Rith brought on this world firsthand, my heart constricted for those boys.
Since I didn’t see any women near them, I wondered if they’d lost their mothers in the attack. My gut churned.
Some of the people we passed reached out, begging for food or water, others pressing in on us. Z’pheer’s fingers tightened on my nape, and he pressed closer to me.
We wa
lked down hall after hall, Malek and Raul continuing to talk, usually too soft for me to make out what they said. When we neared the end of a hall where it turned right, someone coughed, and I glanced behind us. Wait…
I froze, my eyes scanning the crowd. All of them, every single one of them, were men.
My gaze shot up to Z’pheer as he continued along the passage with me. He glanced behind him, obviously wondering what was wrong, not that I could have told him with this stupid muzzle on.
Had the women been taken in the attack? Gwen had said the Rith wanted everything this world had. Did that include the women? Would the Rith be interested in women who looked as human as the men of this world?
Or… I scowled at my cuffed hands. Or were only the men allowed the protection of the shelter?
Jesus. Were the men of Xandari that cruel? They took women from other worlds as slaves, but would they be so callous as to leave their women to be kidnapped, killed, or just abandoned to whatever hell the Rith had unleashed here?
No. That didn’t make sense. No species that was as human-like as my captors were could survive without women. Maybe they were in another area, separated from the men for some reason.
But then why couldn’t I quiet the unsettled tingle that raced up my spine?
Guards walked about the halls here, too, patrolling the people. Some of them handed out rations, promising the ones waiting that they would be found living quarters soon, to be patient and wait their turn.
So this was what an apocalypse looked like. I felt like I was caught in a disaster movie. One of those flicks where a city-sized asteroid hit, with epic narration from Morgan Freeman.
The world was a different place once. In the days before they came. Before the world ended. Before the Rith.
Cue disaster movie score.
Christ.
The crowd of people taking up the wall space thickened a little, making it necessary for Raul and the others to squeeze through and occasionally stop to let others pass. A small child cried out, and Raul’s head swiveled as he glanced behind us. I followed his gaze.
A few feet back down the hall, a little boy sat crying on the lap of a man I assumed was his father. The man whispered reassuringly to the boy. Raul signaled for the others to stop and backtracked, kneeling in front of the child.
“Is he all right?” Raul asked the man and set his hands on the boy’s knees.
“He’s fine. He’s just hungry, sir.”
Raul stood and nodded to another Xandari man in a nearby corner who was dressed in ratty clothes and guarding a bushel of bluish-purple fruit that looked like apples. “This little boy needs something to eat. He could use one of your kashi.”
The man with the bushel shrank away, stroking one of the kashi in his hands and blocking Raul from the full bushel. “These are mine. He can get his own.”
Raul stepped closer to him, his jaw tight. “Those rations are meant to be shared among everyone. One a piece. Move out of the way.”
The man held the kashi close to his chest and pressed back against the bushel. “I said these are mine. He should have brought his own food with him.” He nodded to the boy’s father.
Raul shook his head. Then he picked the man up by the arms and set him out of the way. He grabbed one of the fruit, and when the man tried to take it from him, Raul punched him right in the face.
The man shouted and slammed into the wall, dropping to the floor. He didn’t move.
Applause and approving cheers rose up. Clearly the man had been causing trouble for some time, and Raul was the first one to stand up to him.
“She’ka,” Raul muttered, obviously some sort of insult. He grabbed a kashi, knelt in front of the little boy, and handed it to him. “There you are, little one.”
The boy’s eyes lifted to Raul’s face, peering deep into the hood. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and a smile started to pull at his lips. He opened his mouth to say something, and Raul put his finger to his lips.
The little boy silenced and put his finger to his own mouth with a conspiratorial grin that oozed adoration.
Realization crossed the father’s features and he inclined his head, his eyes shining with gratitude.
Raul nodded, patting the boy’s knee and straightening. I stared after him as he strode to the front of our group and continued down the hall, ignoring the admiring stares and curious murmurs he received as he passed.
That boy had looked positively awestruck when he’d seen Raul’s face. What the fuck was I missing here?
As we made our way down the halls, one of the guards elbowed past us, then shot a glance back. He walked up to Malek and peered into his hood.
“Brother?” His face split into a stunning grin that looked startlingly like Malek’s, only with dimples. Tarku growled low in his throat at him, but the guard only raised an amused brow at him.
“Gods.” Malek stopped him from pulling his hood back and signaled for him to lower his voice. “Laric. Keep it down.”
“Welcome home, baby brother.” Laric lowered his voice, but barely, and clapped him on the shoulders. “Where did you take off to, anyway?”
Malek looked around and patted him on the back. “Walk with us. We’re on our way to see Raul’s father.”
Laric widened his eyes at Raul in false surprise. “Raul. Sorry, didn’t see you there.”
“Razir Laric.” Raul nodded, but the respect in his tone sounded strained.
Laric’s lips pulled in a wince, and I thought I saw sympathy flash in his eyes, but it looked forced. He followed us down the halls, falling into step with Malek.
“I see my brother’s been doing a bang up job at keeping you alive, Raul. His skills with that blade must have improved in the years since I’ve seen him.” He flicked his eyes at the laser sword on Malek’s back with a too big grin and another clap on the shoulder for Malek.
This guy sounded like a douchebag. If Raul picked up on the patronizing tone, he gave no sign. With Malek up ahead of us, I couldn’t see his expression, but I thought his back had stiffened.
“I see you’ve moved up in the world, Laric,” Malek said without missing a beat. “They’ve gone and made you a personal guard. Their standards must be slipping.”
Beside me, Z’pheer snorted.
Laric gave a hearty laugh. “Still as sharp as ever.” He moved between Malek and Raul, putting his arms around both men like an old friend.
Tarku snarled at Malek’s brother until Raul made a low clicking sound and tugged on his leash.
“Your furry bag still doesn’t like me much, I see,” Laric said.
Furry bag…? Ah, Tarku. The translation must have gotten lost.
“Yes, well, you know that Tarku has always been an impeccable judge of character, Laric.”
“Funny. So, tell me where the three of you went running off to while our world has been in chaos.”
Did I imagine the hint of mockery there?
“Order business,” Malek muttered.
“Figures. It all comes back to that Order doesn’t it?” He glanced back at Z’pheer. His eyes lowered to me, and they went wide. He stopped in front of me, causing us all to pause in mid-step. A smirk that reminded me of Malek pulled at his lips. “Ohhh. Woman flesh.”
Had he really just referred to me as woman flesh? I cringed.
“Where did you—” Laric cut off and bent down, peering close enough at me that I couldn’t restrain the urge to step back, bumping into Z’pheer. “Wait. A G’erthing?” He glanced at Malek. “The Order gave you three a G’erthling? You must have done something right to get one of those.”
Z’pheer’s grip on my nape became almost painful. Malek took his brother’s shoulder in a hold that looked like a death grip, as if to restrain him from doing something stupid. I thought I heard Raul growl.
Fucking asshole. Actually, my three captors were just as bad, what with leaving me dressed in barely nothing. What else would people think of me if not a whore?
Laric’s grin wide
ned.
“How is my father doing, Laric?” Raul asked a little louder than necessary as we started walking again.
Laric shook his head with a sigh, his face falling just enough to indicate sympathy.
Raul’s fists tightened, his strides quickened, and we picked up our own pace.
“A lot has happened in the two seasons you’ve been off on your… Order business.” Laric shot me a fleeting glance.
Okay, I definitely didn’t miss the faint accusation there.
He clapped both men on the shoulders. “You missed a lot. Our world has become vile as Rosht’s asshole.”
Raul shook his head but said nothing.
Malek shrugged Laric’s hand off. “Take it easy, brother. You can still be taken down a peg.”
Laric gave a false laugh. “No blame intended, Mal. The Order comes first, I’ve always known that.”
We reached the end of a hall where two doors stood closed, each made of thick wood that looked like polished cherry. Both were carved with an intricate image of the armored wolf. Two armed and uniformed guards stood by the doors. When Raul stopped with the rest of us, the guards pressed their hands to their hearts in what must have been a salute, then opened the doors.
“Anyway,” Laric added, “have a drink with me later at the tavern and we’ll catch up on old times, Malek. You can tell me what great deed you managed to do to get the G’erthling.”
“They set up a tavern here?’’ Raul sounded surprised and, I thought, disapproving.
“Of course. Your father insists on maintaining as much of a sense of normalcy as possible to keep the people calm.”
Raul scowled, and without another word, headed through the doors, his back stiff.
“Sure, take care, Laric.” Malek smiled at his brother and followed after Raul. The smile didn’t touch his eyes.
Laric walked away, but not without a wink at me. I shuddered and thought I heard Z’pheer’s teeth grind. Raul’s eyes darkened.
As soon as we entered the room, the doors thudded heavily shut. I glanced around, and my brows shot up to my hairline.
Holy shit.
The difference between this room and the rest of the shelter was like night and day. Where the halls outside those doors had reminded me of a clean but unfinished basement, this room looked like something that belonged in an alien billionaire’s mansion.