by Aubrey Ross
“She’s chipped, you imbecile. Have you scanned for her location?”
Tarhee fidgeted, adjusting the drape of his ridiculous toga. “The noninterference clause makes such scans complicated.”
“If anything happens to her, I’m holding you responsible.” He waited until the weasel looked him in the eyes and then he added, “Whatever they do to her will be done to you!”
“Father, I—”
“You have until morning then I storm your precious city with all the resources available to me. Your noninterference clause means nothing when my daughter’s life is on the line.” Without another word, he terminated the transmission.
Chapter Four
Hating the weakness revealed by her actions, Naloni clung to Max’s thick upper arm. Dario had untied her hands and removed the gag, which only made her more uncomfortable. If he wasn’t worried about her causing a scene, they must be isolated in deed.
They’d passed through an abandoned work space, a smithy or some sort of metal shop. It was hard to tell from what remained of the ramshackle building. Max slung her over his shoulder and carried her down a ladder, much to Dario’s amusement.
And then the endless tunnel. Dark and dank, the passage meandered and dipped with no apparent rhyme or reason. “Where are we?” she asked for the third time.
“Don’t worry, Princess. We’ll protect you.” The sarcasm in Dario’s tone belied his assurance, so Naloni tried to ignore him. He carried a torch aloft, casting eerie shadows on the rough-hewn walls.
There were no mines in New Pompeii, so this had to be a smugglers tunnel or some primitive escape route. But escape to where? Once they were beyond the barrier, how would an occupant of New Pompeii survive in Fedoros?
“I had no idea this was down here,” Max muttered. “When and why was the passage dug?”
Her attention perked as she waited for Dario to answer.
“It was completed about a year ago and the team that dug it returned to their homeworld.”
Their homeworld? Naloni tensed. Dario suddenly sounded less like a gladiator and more like a Fedoran spy.
“We’re almost there,” he told Max.
Almost where? She wanted to scream. Did they intend to keep her locked underground like some sort of animal?
Would that be any worse than the conditions in which they were kept? She was fighting to change their circumstances. Of course they were unaware of her efforts.
“I’m female,” she blurted, grasping for anything that would help Dario see that he needed to cease this nonsense before anyone was seriously harmed.
“We noticed, Princess. Believe me, we both noticed.”
“Within the Fedoran royal family that means my only real purpose is to produce a male heir.” It was a ridiculous exaggeration, but she could think of nothing else to motivate her release. “You should have taken Tarhee. He is worth far more to Father than—”
“Are you suggesting we kill you and try again?” Dario spun to face her, his features almost demonic in the flickering light. “Or shall we spread those royal legs and get started on an heir?”
“That’s enough,” Max cautioned.
Dario’s only response was a scathing glance.
Her shoulders began to shake and keeping her teeth separated was the only way to prevent their chattering. She had dressed for the crush of a party, not a cold, musty tunnel leading to who knew where.
They emerged in a rounded chamber a few minutes later. Dario lit a second torch then shoved his into a sconce driven into the rock wall. The room was obviously manmade and offered little in the way of amenities. One wall was lined with trunks that looked faintly military. Dario unlocked the first with the key hidden in the crevasse above and to one side of its lid.
“Are we staying here?”
Dario’s dark brows arched with sardonic humor. “Not quite what you’re used to?” He pulled out a blanket and gave it a violent shake then draped it around her trembling shoulders. “Can’t have you dying of hypothermia. That would be counterproductive to my plan.”
“Which is?” He’d said “my plan” not “our plan”. Did that mean Max was only along for the ride?
Dario returned to the trunk without answering her question and drew out a snyth-leather case. Opening the case, he removed a small device. Was it a scanner or some sort of weapon? If he’d wanted her dead, she’d be dead. But there were other uses for weapons.
What was a Pompeian gladiator doing with electronic gadgets? “Where did you get that?”
“Out of the trunk.” He motioned over his shoulder with his thumb as he returned to her side. “Pull up your hair and bend forward.”
“Why?”
“Because if you don’t, I’m liable to pull up your skirt and bend you all the way over. Your choice.”
“Are you Fedoran?” she asked in her native language.
“I was born in Rome, just like Max,” he responded in the same language.
“Then how do you know so much about my world?” She switched back to Latin just to remind herself she was dealing with the enemy.
“I know lots of things. Now are you going to assume the position or would you like Max to help you? Something tells me it wouldn’t be the first time Max has bent you all the way over.”
Ignoring his insinuation, she pulled her hair away from the nape of her neck and bent forward enough to keep it out of his way. She heard a faint hum as he maneuvered the device back and forth and up and down. Her eyes widened. “You’re searching for my GPS chip.” She started to straighten, but a strong hand pressed against the back of her head, keeping her in place. It had to be Max. Both of Dario’s hands were occupied with the scanner.
“This is going to hurt, so take a deep breath.”
She was halfway through her inhalation when pain stabbed into the back of her head, branching out like lightning across her skull. Her knees buckled and her stomach heaved, her breath releasing in a sustained moan. Max caught her around the waist before she crumbled to the stone floor.
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Dario muttered as he walked away.
Max turned her and pulled her into his arms. Her legs shook so badly she had no choice but to wrap her arms around his back. Dario was an asshole, but Max was working with him. She couldn’t let herself forget they were partners.
“What did you just do to her?” Max’s arms tightened around her with his agitation. He wasn’t hurting her, just molding her intimately against the front of his body.
“She figured it out. I fried her GPS chip. You’re next, so get over the warm fuzzies. We’ve got work to do.”
“Are you all right?” Max asked after an edgy pause.
“I didn’t throw up all over you.” She groaned. “I guess that’s progress.”
His warm chuckle was familiar and far more soothing than it should have been. “Let’s get you settled somewhere more comfortable.”
She bit her lip, refusing to confess how comfortable she’d found his embrace. He helped her to the makeshift bed Dario had spread on the floor. Several blankets topped a thick foam pad. It was worlds away from her usual mattress, but anything was better than the cold stone floor. She scooted back toward the wall and he adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.
With obvious reluctance Max returned to Dario and bowed his head. Dario repeated the procedure, only Naloni could see what he was doing this time. The device had a small screen that allowed him to pinpoint the identification-locator chip. Once he had the chip centered in the screen, he triggered a concentrated beam of… She had no idea what the turquoise beam contained.
Max’s reaction was less dramatic than hers. His arms flexed and his body tensed. He waited for Dario to step back then he straightened and rubbed the back of his neck, his features blank and cold. He’d been blocking out pain for years. This was part of his everyday life. The realization made her discomfort seem insignificant. For a moment. Then her head started pounding again.
“He wouldn�
��t happen to have a pain reliever stashed in that trunk, would he?”
Max looked at Dario expectantly. Dario glared at her for a moment then reached into the trunk and tossed her a small packet. By the time she’d opened the packet and withdrawn the twin tablets, Max had located a canteen. With an appreciative smile, she washed down the medicine with the tepid water.
“Thank you,” she told Max.
“You’re welcome,” Dario replied then he turned to Max. “You want one?”
Max just rolled his eyes. “What about your chip?”
“Mine has been ‘malfunctioning’ for several months now. Tarhee keeps meaning to have it replaced, but procrastination is his middle name. Besides I’m such a nauseating kiss-ass, he had no reason to think he’d ever need to locate me.” He moved in front of her and pinned her with his cold black stare. “I was really disappointed when I heard you’d be attending that festival of horrors. You were the only member of the royal family I thought possessed a soul. Now I know better.”
“I wasn’t there to participate,” she objected. “I came with Stevon Poliantus. He—”
“I know who he is,” Dario snapped. “If it weren’t for his media network, New Pompeii wouldn’t be accessible to the masses.”
“We’d heard stories of abuse and torture. We were there to investigate.” Why was she arguing with him? It was obviously a waste of time.
His caustic laugh didn’t surprise her. He was beyond rational debate. “I saw your idea of investigation. Which did you enjoy more, the live tableau or our wrestling match? Are you disappointed that we attacked before Max shoved his cock up my ass?”
“She could be telling the truth.” It wasn’t an impassioned defense, but anything was welcome. “I know she was contacted by a member of the resistance. There’s a lot going on behind the scenes that you’re not aware of.”
“Like what?” He turned on Max. “A tunnel leading under the barrier? If I’m not mistaken, you knew nothing about this escape route.”
“We’re under the barrier?” Naloni latched on to the fact. At least it gave her some idea of her whereabouts.
“Directly under at the moment. Our ride is still several hours away, so we’ll have to hang out down here.” His dark gaze swept over Naloni’s huddled form. “However can we spend the time?”
Max shook his head, expression grim. “You’re not going to hurt her, Dario. Find another way to amuse yourself.”
Turning his hostile gaze on Max, Dario put his fists on his lean hips. The stance was aggressive, antagonistic. “You’re going to challenge me over one of them? Why don’t we start by subjecting her to every indignity her brother forced upon Arllo? That should keep us busy for days.”
“Tarhee never touched Arllo,” Max told him. “No one did. She was still a virgin when she arrived on Outpost Nine.”
Lowering his hands to his sides, Dario took a moment to reply. “What are you talking about?” He sounded confused rather than defensive. “I knew she wasn’t at the festival, but I thought… I thought they’d killed her.”
The raw pain in his tone tore at Naloni’s heart. This was a glimpse into his motivation, revenge, frustration and utter hopelessness. How many others just like him peppered the houses of New Pompeii? Tarhee and Mikko played their sadistic games, never thinking about or caring for the lives they destroyed in the process.
“Arllo was rescued by the people I work with. She was taken to Racine Colony, Outpost Nine. According to the last report, which I have no reason to doubt, she is unharmed and doing well.”
“How is that possible?” He shoved his hand through his hair, creating even more dramatic spikes. His gaze thawed, filling with relief and a conspicuous excess of moisture.
“Apparently you’re not the only game in town.” Max’s mouth curved just a little, but his eyes took on the warm radiance that haunted her dreams. “Your people chose to go under the barrier while mine found a way through. Both ways lead to freedom. That’s all that matters.”
Dario rubbed his eyes then strode back to the supply trunks. “We all need to change. Our costumes will draw too much attention beyond the barrier.” He tossed Max a stack of military fatigues and set aside a similar outfit for himself. He continued digging, presumably for something that would fit her. But Max took off his sandals and her attention shifted away from Dario’s search.
Max pulled the multi-pocketed black pants on under his tunic then tossed the tunic aside and reached for the matching pullover shirt. As always Naloni was struck by the symmetry of his body, each ropy muscle and long limb in perfect harmony. Though his legs were covered now, the knit shirt clung to his chest and broad shoulders. His gaze met hers as he wadded up the tunic, his smile slow and compelling. He’d caught her staring and didn’t seem to mind the attention.
With far less subtlety, Dario pulled off his tunic and donned his new outfit. His body was every bit as conditioned as Max’s, so why didn’t she react the same way to him?
She didn’t want to consider the difference, but her inactivity left her nothing to do but think or gawk at her captors. Max was more than an amazing body. She’d sensed an inexplicable connection the first time she’d looked into his eyes. He could be ferocious and deadly. There was no denying his ruthlessness, but he was more than bloodlust and pride. His character ran deeper, with more texture and intricate elements. Even when he thought her a lowly breeding slave, he’d treated her with respect and caring.
Would those noble instincts change now that he knew her true identity?
“You’ve seen ours, now it’s time to show us yours.” Dario’s provocative words ended her speculation. He held a third uniform but made no move to toss it to her.
Max reached for the neatly folded clothes, but Dario twisted away. “Stop harassing her.”
“I’m not harassing her. I just want to see her naked. She had more than an eyeful during our match.”
“She wasn’t responsible for that display.” His second grab was no more successful than his first had been. “Actually, you were.”
“It doesn’t matter, Max. I’m not ashamed of my body.” She stood and dropped the blanket then unwound her palla. “But know this, Dario, you’re just torturing yourself. If you harm me in any way, there is nowhere in this galaxy you can hide. My father will kill you.”
Dario laughed. “I thought he didn’t value females. Why would he bother?”
“Because I look just like my mother, and he loved her more than life itself.” Tears burned her throat as she registered the truth of that statement. He loved her so much he had nearly followed her into the afterlife. Very few knew how close Fedoros had come to losing their beloved emperor. While his children had been avoiding his pain!
“You don’t have to do this,” Max’s voice was tight and low, but anticipation smoldered in his gaze.
Looking only at Max, she unfastened the jeweled broach at one shoulder. Her tunic sagged, catching on the curve of her breast. Without changing her serious expression, she unfastened the matching broach and the tunic slid down her body, a whisper-soft caress as it pooled around her ankles.
“You sure as hell have nothing to be ashamed of.” Dario’s voice was suddenly strained. “Turn around.”
She looked and him and shook her head. “Give me the clothes.”
Before Dario could torment her further, Max snatched the garments out of his hands and crossed to Naloni. He stood in front of her while she dressed, his gallant gesture ensuring his view of her naked body. The pants were a bit baggy, but the waistband was adjustable. The shirt, on the other hand, was nearly obscene. The fabric stretched so tight across her breasts that her nipples were clearly visible.
“Did he do this intentionally?” she asked Max, tugging the shirt away from her chest.
“Probably.”
“Is there a problem?” The amusement in Dario’s tone confirmed her suspicions.
She could either give in to his harassment and humbly ask for a different shirt or throw his
immaturity in his face and let his body punish him. She’d seen how he looked at her. He was no doubt fighting a hard-on.
“Not at all.” She halted Max’s protest with a subtle shake of her head. “It’s not my usual style, but it’s rather cozy.”
Max looked at her breasts, gaze narrowed and nostrils flared. Unfortunately, his partner’s idiocy was going to punish him as well.
“Have you contacted my father?” She moved out from behind Max and watched Dario’s reaction. With predictable speed, his dark gaze gravitated to her breasts and he slowly licked his lips. “Did you outline your demands?”
Dario shook his head and dragged his gaze to her face. “The barrier jams most forms of communication. It will have to wait until we’re safely off-world.”
“Then how do you know when our ride will arrive?”
“It’s called a rendezvous, sweetheart. They’re set up in advance.” After another lingering look at her curves, he turned back to the trunks and asked, “Is anyone else hungry? We weren’t allowed to partake of those lavish buffets of course. We were part of the furniture.”
She’d been too anxious to eat before, but her stomach wasn’t much calmer now. Dario found squeezable packets of the nutrient-rich paste soldiers often lived on while in the field. He tossed one to her and again she wondered at his obvious connection to the military. Realizing there was nowhere else to sit, she returned to the bed.
Max caught the packet Dario threw him then sat on one corner of the bed, folding his legs in front of him. “Stevon Poliantus is a not-so-silent partner in New Pompeii. Why would he help you destroy it?”
“He’s a shrewd businessman, but he also has this little thing called integrity. Regardless of the money it makes him, he wants no part of the things we’ve heard about.” She washed down a lump of paste with a swallow of water. Suddenly glad their “ride” was only a few hours away. “He had several teams at the festival tonight, compiling evidence.”
“What did he intend to do with the evidence once it was compiled?” Max accepted the canteen from her outstretched hand and took a healthy swig. “Gods that tastes terrible.”