Taking a chance, Ari dived for it. But though Fenrus and Gorn missed her, Tapper, who was up on his feet, grabbed the back of her prison jumpsuit and yanked.
Ari gasped as she felt the cheap buttons at the front of the jumpsuit give way, popping off the worn fabric as easily as though they’d been cut by a sharp pair of scissors.
Goddess of Mercy, no!
She tried to stop her forward momentum but it was too late, she was falling forward, slipping out of the baggy jumpsuit to land half-naked on the cold, dirty metal floor.
“Lookit here, boys—pretty boy is already half undressed for me,” Tapper crowed. Clearly he had only seen Ari’s bare back as yet. Ari was desperate to keep it that way.
Scrambling behind her, she tried to get her arms back into the blue and orange striped jumpsuit. But Tapper gave an ugly laugh and yanked on the fabric again, pulling it down past her hips. Then he stripped it all the way off and threw it in a corner, reminding Ari horribly of how she’d been stripped and forced to kneel in his cell, waiting to be raped the last time he’d gotten to her.
“Mmm, lookit that ass,” he told his henchman. “So curvy and round! As pretty as a girl’s, ‘ent it?”
“That it is, boss,” Fenrus crowed. “Can me and Gorn have a go at it when you’re done?”
“Of course boys—didn’t I promise that? Come on, get ‘im up on ‘is hands and knees,” Tapper commanded.
Ari was still lying face down and she did her best to fold herself into a ball but hard hands were on her, forcing her up on her knees. She kept her arms stubbornly folded over her breasts but though she wiggled and kicked, there was no getting away this time.
“Spread those legs!” Tapper snarled. “I said spread ‘em!” He slapped Ari’s ass, hard enough to leave a print, she was sure. She kicked back at him but one of them—either Fenrus or Gorn—grabbed her ankle and forced her to bend the way Tapper wanted her to.
Ari felt sick. Slowly, her thighs were forced apart, the cold metal of the floor scraping against her bare knees. She was still trying to hide her breasts but there was nothing she could do to hide what was—or rather wasn’t—between her legs. Hard hands were forcing her up and prying open her cheeks. A cold breeze caressed her exposed rosebud and outer pussy lips, making Ari gasp and clench in on herself.
“Hey,” she heard Tapper say from behind her, confusion thick in his voice. “Hey, where’s his shaft?”
“Lookit that—pretty boy ‘ent got no dick,” Gorn remarked.
“He ‘ent got no dick! He ‘ent got no dick!” Fenrus chanted in a sing-song tone.
“Shut up, you idiot,” Tapper commanded. “It’s true he ‘ent got a dick but look what he does have—a pussy!” He flipped Ari over and pried her arms away from her chest. “And tits!”
Fenrus and Gorn goggled at her as though they’d never seen a naked female before. Well, likely they hadn’t for several years, at least, Ari thought despairingly.
“Let me go!” she shouted as loudly as she could. “Let me go!”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” Tapper shook his head wonderingly, as though still taking in the reality of the situation. “Lookit this, boys,” he said to his henchmen. “Pretty boy is a girl!”
Thirty-Four
“I ain’t fucked a girl in years,” Gorn said, grinning around the gory remains of his left eye. “So I haven’t.”
“I fucked a girl once,” Fenrus volunteered. His face fell. “That’s why they sent me here to BleakHall. All ‘cause I wanted to try some pussy.”
“Well you can try this one as much as you want—after I get through with her.” Tapper was already unbuttoning the bottom of his green and blue striped trustee jumpsuit. “Hold her, boys—I’m gonna have my first taste of gash in fifteen years, so I am.”
Just then the black metal door to the kitchen rattled on its hinges.
“Who’s that?” Fenrus’s head snapped up like a canine on point.
“Doesn’t matter—whoever it is they can’t get in.” Tapper’s voice held a greedy quality and his eyes never left Ari’s naked body. “Just ignore it boys. Our business is here.”
But as he spoke, the kitchen door rattled again and the thick tongue of metal that held the bolt in place snapped like a brittle stick. The door burst open and Ari saw Lathe standing there, his fangs bared and his eyes narrowed in fury.
“Get the fuck away from Ari.” His voice was a deep, inhuman growl. “Right…fucking…now. Or you die—all of you.”
Ari drew in a breath. Lathe had told her about the state of protective berserker fury a Kindred went into when he felt his female was threatened. What had he called it? Oh yes—Rage. She was certain Rage was what she was seeing now. She had never seen Lathe’s fangs look so long and sharp before and his eyes…his eyes were red. Red and glowing with a fury so deep only violence could express it.
He also seemed to have grown somehow—he looked positively huge looming over the ugly tableau on the dirty kitchen floor. If he was as surprised as Tapper had been by her suddenly female body, he didn’t show it—he only seemed to grow larger and more menacing.
“I mean it,” he growled again—his voice more of a vibration than a sound. “Ari…is…mine.”
Gorn and Fenrus drew away from her but Tapper, his dirty root of a shaft already out and in his hand, didn’t look likely to be deterred. He barely spared a glance in Lathe’s direction, so focused was he on Ari’s naked body.
“Take care of ‘im, boys,” he ordered his henchmen distractedly. “Don’t let Medic bother me—I got a cunt to fuck.”
Fenrus and Gorn sprang obediently to their feet but Tapper had underestimated the depth of the big Kindred’s fury. With a roar, Lathe sprang on them, his fangs flashing as he bit and bit again—too fast to follow.
Ari gasped as she saw both men begin to choke and strangle, their skin turning an ugly, dusky color as black foam seethed from between their lips.
Tapper turned his head and his eyes widened but he still didn’t get off her. Instead, a long silver blade suddenly appeared in his hand. He held it up, showing Lathe and then pressed it to her throat, just under her left ear.
“Better step back, Medic,” he snarled. “Or this pretty little girl of yours is going to die.”
“You son of a bitch!” Lathe’s eyes were glowing brighter than ever but despite his state of Rage, he seemed to understand that a false move on his part meant sudden death for Ari. “Let Ari go!” he demanded, his voice still that low, menacing growl.
“Not until I’ve had my fun with her.” Tapper leered at him as he dragged Ari to her feet, the cold metal of the knife never wavering. Ari felt it prick the skin at the side of her neck and a hot drop of blood welled out against her fear-chilled skin. “This here is no ordinary knife, no it isn’t,” he told Lathe as he pushed Ari in front of him, apparently heading for one of the kitchen counters. “I got it from a poisoner on Chathm Prime, so I did. It’s deadly.”
“So am I.” Lathe nodded at Gorn and Fenrus, now both dead on the floor, their faces frozen in a rictus of agony. “Let Ari go now and I won’t…won’t kill you.” It seemed to take all of the big Kindred’s willpower to say the words but he ground them out between his teeth, his fangs winking with deadly intent in the harsh kitchen glows as he spoke.
But Tapper was imperturbable.
“I told you, Medic—not until I’ve had my fun. Do you know how long it’s been since I had a taste of pussy? Not since I raped my old Mistress and all her friends at their fancy garden party and then killed the whole lot of them.” His piggy eyes glowed with the memory of his crimes. “That was fun but this is going to be even better—so it is. Because you’re going to watch me fuck this sweet little pussy you’ve been keepin’ all to yourself, so you are, old son. I’m going to fuck her ‘till she screams and all you can do is watch while I have what’s yours—what should have been mine in the first place!”
As he spoke, he started to bend Ari face-first over the dull silver kitchen counte
r. But Ari had had enough.
“I’d rather die,” she said in a low voice. “I’d rather die than have you anywhere near me you asshole!”
On the last word she threw an elbow in Tapper’s gut and twisted her head away from the knife.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Tapper’s arm jerked and Ari watched from the corner of her eye as the long silver blade passed by her cheek in a blur. He shouted with anger but he didn’t let go of her. That was all right—Ari hadn’t expected him to. She just wanted to give Lathe an opening and she had.
In a flash, the big Kindred had Tapper by the wrist. He squeezed and Ari heard a crunching sound as the bones in the inmate’s arm snapped and crackled like a bundle of twigs being broken for the fire. The knife dropped from his suddenly limp fingers and he let go of Ari at the same time. She took a quick step back, wanting to get away but unable to stop watching.
“Let me go!” Tapper screamed at Lathe, spittle and blood from his broken nose flying from his lips. “You don’t dare lay a finger on me! You know what my boys’ll do to you if you bite me!”
“Oh, I’m not going to bite you,” Lathe growled. His face was a mask of fury and his eyes were glowing like hot coals. “That’s too clean a death for filth like you, Tapper. You don’t deserve my venom.”
He grabbed Tapper by the throat and squeezed, yanking him up off the ground as though he weighed nothing at all.
Ari watched in amazement, thinking that Lathe would choke the crime boss to death. But it turned out that Lathe had something worse—much worse—in mind.
Holding Tapper up by the throat, he walked over to the industrial sized meat grinder and stepped on the foot pedal that started the machine. Immediately a humming, grinding buzz began to rise as the big blades with all their tiny teeth began to whir.
Tapper—his face red and his eyes bulging—seemed to finally understand what the big Kindred had in mind for him. He shook his head frantically and made choking sounds of negation, his broken wrist flopping limply.
“Nnnn! Nnnnnn!” he gurgled but Lathe was already lowering him down towards the blades.
Tapper kicked frantically, his prison-issued rubber sandals falling down into the churning teeth which chewed them up hungrily. Lathe gave him a swift punch to one knee-cap which seemed to break something in the crime lord’s leg. The moment it hung limp, his foot was caught in the grinder’s teeth and it began sucking him down.
A piercing shriek, like something a little girl might make, came from Tapper’s burly, unshaven throat. He flailed wildly but he couldn’t get free with Lathe holding his neck and the grinder chewing relentlessly up his leg. Ari watched with horror as his second flailing foot was caught in the endlessly whirring blades and a gout of blood went up, spattering the big Kindred’s trustee uniform with dark scarlet drops.
Oh Goddess, I don’t want to see this… I want to stop watching, I don’t want to see this, she thought. But somehow she couldn’t look away.
When the grinder reached both thighs, Lathe dropped Tapper, who flopped like a fish, screaming and swearing.
“Let me out—let me out! They’ll kill you! My boys will kill you, Gods damn you! It hurts! It hurts! My boys will kill you!” he shrieked, scrabbling at the slick metal surface of the metal holding tank full of rats.
I guess we’ll be having rat and Tapper stew for supper, Ari thought inanely and a hysterical giggle rose in her throat. She swallowed it down with difficulty but then noises started coming out of her anyway. I’m laughing, she thought. I shouldn’t be laughing at this—it’s horrible—horrible!
But when she put her hands to her face to cover her mouth, she felt wetness on her cheeks and realized she was crying instead.
The grinder had reached Tapper’s waist by now but the crime boss had stopped swearing and struggling. His upper torso wiggled and jerked as the grinder methodically chewed him up but his eyes were blank and lifeless. Clearly he was dead already but Lathe made no move to remove the top part of the body. Apparently the grinder was going to finish the job of chopping him into protein paste and feed him into one of the vast tub-sized cooking kettles.
What’s the difference? Ari thought. Supper will just be a little more ratty than usual. Probably no one will even notice.
Another one of those hysterical giggle-sobs tried to come up her throat and she shoved a fist in her mouth and bit down hard to stifle it.
Then Lathe turned to her.
The big Kindred was still in Rage, his eyes burning red. When he looked at Ari she felt her blood run cold. There was no more need to stop herself from cry-laughing or laugh-crying or whatever you wanted to call it. Everything inside her seemed to freeze at once.
He killed Gorn and Fenrus and Tapper and I’m next, she thought, a surge of pure terror running through her. I lied to him—I tricked him and now he’ll kill me too!
The big Kindred came towards her and she shrank back against the cold metal of the steel countertop, her stomach a hard, icy knot inside her, her hands trembling as she tried to cover herself.
“What…” he growled in a low, intense voice, “the fuck are you?”
“Please…” Ari’s voice shook and she could barely stand. As frightened as she’d been of Tapper and his goons, they were nothing compared to a Kindred warrior in Rage. “Please, Lathe…”
“Are you male? Are you female? What in the Seven Hells is going on?” he demanded, his eyes glowing.
“Please,” she whispered again. “Please, don’t kill me. Or if you do, please bite me. Don’t…don’t put me in the grinder like Tapper. Please, Lathe!”
“Kill you?” He looked at her blankly and then the red, terrible glow began to fade from his eyes. He took a step back and shook himself. “What are you talking about? Why would I kill you? I just murdered three males to save you—even though I don’t know what the hell you are.”
“I’m a girl! I know I shouldn’t have lied to you,” Ari babbled. “But I was afraid! You said that everyone here hated females! You said any female that came into BleakHall would be raped to death inside of fifteen minutes!”
“So you are female then?” He took a step towards her and Ari took a step back, trying to cover her breasts and sex with her hands.
“No—let me see, Goddess damn you!” Lathe growled. He put a hand on her arm and Ari shrank back from him.
“Don’t hurt me,” she begged, unable to help herself. He had just killed three men in the space of five minutes—in the most brutal way possible. And now he was looming over her, angry and huge. She couldn’t help being afraid of him.
Lathe’s blazing eyes softened, going completely turquoise and losing the last of their red fire.
“It’s all right,” he murmured, his deep voice more gentle than she’d yet heard it. “I just need to see for myself what you are, Ari. Please, I need to see.”
Ari forced herself to drop her arms to her sides, baring herself completely. Her nipples were tight with fear and she felt his gaze on her like a laser beam.
“Female,” Lathe whispered, half to himself. He reached out, fingers lightly brushing the curve of her left breast. “But how? I saw your shaft myself. Hell, I fucking kissed it.” His eyes blazed again, though at least they didn’t turn red.
Ari flinched away from his touch. Goosebumps had broken out all over her bare skin but she didn’t quite dare try to hide herself from him again.
“I had a solid-holo projector—I call it a look/touch—implanted in my prison ID,” she said. “It projected a male chest and genitalia. But then, last night, the power supply ran out. Right after you, uh…kissed it. My fake shaft, I mean.”
“A solid-holo projector?” Lathe frowned. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”
Ari lifted her chin.
“That’s because I invented it.”
“You invented a lot of things, didn’t you?” His deep voice was bitter. “A male persona…a lie about what you were…your feelings for me. Why are you even here, Ari? And is
Ari even your name? No, stop—I don’t care,” he said when Ari opened her mouth to answer. “I don’t give a fuck. Just put on your clothes and get out of here.”
He jerked his head at her prison jumpsuit, which lay crumpled in a corner.
Something loosened inside Ari’s chest when she realized he wasn’t going to kill her—that he was letting her go. But his words—“I don’t care…I don’t give a fuck,” rang in her head and made her feel empty inside. Right now, though, she just wanted to get away from here, wanted to run far away from this horrible scene and never come back.
She hurried over to where her jumpsuit was and put it on, pulling it tight around her body to hide her breasts. The leather tool belt, which she had been wearing loose around her hips so as not to draw attention to her small waist, slid back into place as easily as it had slid off.
Ari had the presence of mind to grab the wrench and the screwdriver off the floor—they were lying between Gorn and Fenrus’s bodies—and shove them back into the belt. Then she edged towards the door. Would Lathe really let her leave?
The big Kindred made no move to stop her. When Ari reached the doorway and looked back at him, she saw him watching her with an unreadable expression in his jewel-toned eyes. Somehow she got the nerve to speak.
“Lathe,” she whispered and her cheeks were wet again. “I’m so sor—”
“Save it.” His voice was flat—as flat as his eyes. “Just go, Ari. I have to clean up in here and you probably don’t want to see it.”
He grabbed Fenrus’s body and headed for the meat grinder, which had digested Tapper completely by now and was ready for more.
Ari couldn’t stay to see it—she felt like if she did, she might go crazy. To be honest, she felt like she was already halfway there. Sick and scared and more shaken than she could ever remember, she fled just as the grinding hum began again.
Thirty-Five
Imprisoned Page 24