Stolen Desire (Outlawed Realm)

by Donahue, Tina

  They’d chosen the latter course, until he’d murdered them.

  Paige cleared her throat, then flinched at the sound she’d made as though it startled her.

  Zekin remained patient, even tempering his breathing so as not to make too much noise. What other choice did he have? He wondered if he should smile. Would that relax her, then coax her closer?

  Before Zekin could make up his mind, the airlock behind Paige whooshed. The metal panel slid open, revealing two of Zekin’s men in the doorway. Their attention moved from him to Paige.

  She turned to look at them and inhaled sharply.

  Chapter Four

  Paige knew what she saw couldn’t be possible. It defied reality and genetic odds. The men who’d just arrived were mirror images of each other and Zekin. Triplets? Or was there another one like them in this place—which would have made them quads—like the guards at the outpost? Multiple, identical births didn’t happen that frequently. What were the chances there would be two sets of them in this place, land, country, planet?

  She hadn’t a clue what to call it.

  Squinting to see better, she compared features, height, physiques of Zekin and the other men. They even wore the same camouflage gear. Zekin’s clothing had already morphed from the silvery-blue material back to what she’d first seen him in, before they’d braved those frigid outside temps, breathed in water without oxygen tanks and escaped monsters that would have been at home in any horror movie. Trouble was—this was really happening.

  Her knees buckled.

  Zekin slipped one arm around her waist, the other behind her thighs. Easily, he lifted her, even though she wasn’t a small woman. Hadn’t Johnny repeatedly kidded about her weight, claiming they’d get married as soon as she lost a few pounds?

  Prick.

  “Don’t worry,” Zekin murmured. “I have you.” Firmly, yet with surprising gentleness, he held her against his chest.

  Her throat tightened at his concern, him again treating her as though she mattered. All of her life, Paige had longed for even a second like this, and here it was…in this awful place.

  Laughter bubbled in her, followed by an urge to bawl. She fought both, determined not to worry him.

  Good Lord, the man knew what a woman liked.

  His caress soothed and aroused, reminding Paige of their kiss. Tender, exploring, needed, then out of control, wild and hungry. Her cheeks still stung from the rasp of his stubble. She recalled the taste of his tongue. As fresh as his scent, as though he’d just brushed his teeth, with an indescribable flavor that belonged to him alone.

  Unless those other guys tasted the same.

  Uh-uh. Not possible. In the deepest part of her…a place Paige had hidden from the world, so she wouldn’t be hurt…she knew Zekin wasn’t like those other men, no matter their similar features. He’d protected her on the surface, even going so far as to hold her when she’d been about to fall apart. She couldn’t think of another man who would have done so, especially if they were little more than strangers. He’d risked his life for her because it was the right thing to do…and maybe because she did matter to him, just a little. Not as a victim, but as a woman.

  Paige had never felt more female or self-conscious.

  Shyly, she slid her arm across Zekin’s shoulders and held tight, hoping he wouldn’t mind. He turned his face to her, his expression surprisingly open and accepting. Grateful, she softened against him, noting the specks of gold in his cocoa-colored eyes, his incredibly long lashes and thick, silky brows. He was really something. Masculine. Strong. Handsome as sin. But not perfect. He had a faint scar near his jaw, the skin whitish, the injury that caused it most likely from long ago. Maybe when he was a boisterous little boy or an unruly teen, driving his parents nuts.

  Did he look exactly like his dad? Did his scar set Zekin apart from his father and the two men who stood in the doorway? Surely they didn’t all have the same flaws.

  Paige wanted to check, but the other men strode into the next pod, the area clearly visible from here as the walls were made of glass or plastic.

  Next to her and Zekin, there was a tall metal counter, similar to a ticket agent’s at an airport, and two simple symbols on the floor indicating the outlines of feet. Again, like a TSA checkpoint where security scanners X-ray travelers. Directly above the outlines, there were large hooks welded to the metal arches that crisscrossed the pod. Whatever had hung from them was gone.

  Zekin followed the other men. His boots rang against the glowing metal floor. Paige guessed the volcanic fires provided the illumination that wasn’t red or gold. It radiated the same bluish-white light that she’d seen on the surface.

  They entered the next pod, and the next and the next. All of them sparsely furnished with one chair, one table, the furniture made of some kind of metal, an ugly and utilitarian contrast to the beauty just outside.

  Steam and smoke poured from cracks in the rocks. Spewing lava turned black, then hardened upon contact with the icy water. The light pouring from within here tinted it a deep blue. Coral in varying shades of white, purple, lavender and mauve dotted the landscape. Darting between those skeletal forms were smallish fishlike creatures, the size of trout, the color of freshwater pearls.

  The scene was stunning, but surreal.

  What were those things? Who’d built this place? What was its purpose?

  Paige lifted her chin to get a better view of the next pod, its ceiling at least ten times higher than the others, its width immense, the space dotted with long tables and benches, which made it a dining area. More men who looked like Zekin—and who’d dressed in the same mottled clothing he wore—mingled with females and other males. These men and women all had different features, coloring, builds.

  They were also completely nude.

  Paige dug her fingers into Zekin’s shoulder.

  “They won’t harm you,” he assured her.

  Only a few had stopped eating and moving about to sneak quick peeks at her, while Paige couldn’t help but stare openly at them. A female to the left had straight, strawberry-blonde hair that flowed halfway down her back. Her peach-colored skin looked as though she’d spent the day sunbathing…down here. Her eyes were light—blue or gray—then averted, her behavior saying she had no right to glance at Paige, not even for a moment. The redhead next to her wore her coppery locks long, the wavy ends dangling just above her slender thighs. She had a milky complexion and green eyes that she also kept lowered in what appeared to be submission.

  There were women with black hair, brown, pure white and blonde that stylists would have called a honeyed shade. Each had a different complexion than the others—from fair to ebony—and irises in every tint imaginable. All of their faces were unnaturally beautiful—their features a mixture of conventional and exotic—their bodies full-breasted with long legs, the flare of their hips perfectly proportioned, their mounds fluffy with pubic hair or waxed smooth to display their pinkish vaginal lips.

  The men were no less perfect, varied or sensual. Their arms and legs muscular, shoulders broad, hips narrow, their balls weighty, cocks long and thick beneath a nest of curly hair in blond, brown, black or chestnut colors.

  None of the males seemed older than late twenties, while the women appeared even younger, no more than mid-twenties, if that. Not a one of them spoke or dared meet her gaze directly.

  Paige recalled the hologram she’d seen earlier of the man and woman who’d been performing sex acts but seemed oblivious of the person who’d captured their images or the audience that might have watched. Their sole focus had been on each other, even though they never exchanged one word or glance. She murmured softly to Zekin, so the others couldn’t hear, “Are these pleasure slaves who escaped?”

  “They didn’t escape. My men and I rescued them.”

  She gripped his shoulder, recalling the risks he’d taken to bring her here. “They were in the same outpost where you found me?”

  “A few. Others came directly from E4, the jun
gle outside the Pleasure Palace where the rulers hunt them.”

  Her stomach churned. “What?”

  Zekin held her more firmly. “You’ll know everything soon. First I need to get you settled.”

  Paige thought she was going home. That was what he’d said, what he’d asked. If she wanted to go home. “You’re keeping me here?”

  His steps slowed, then stopped, his expression neutral, as it generally was. However, his body stiffened as though her question had offended him.

  “You’re not a prisoner,” he said evenly. “No one here is. Not any longer.”

  What did that mean? “You said you were taking me home.”

  “I will.”

  “When?’

  He continued carrying her through this pod into the next. “As soon as I’m able.”

  A wave of nausea rolled through Paige. Not from worry that he was lying to her; she sensed he wasn’t. He simply didn’t have the means, at the moment, to take her back to Seattle. Paige had no idea what he’d need to accomplish that.

  Water flowed around them, pressing in on the pod, trapping him here as much as her and all the others. How many fathoms down were they? On what part of the planet did this place exist?

  Her belly cramped again. Were they even on Earth any longer? He’d mentioned E4, E1, E5, the Pleasure Palace, a jungle, rulers. Oh shit, what had she gotten herself into?

  Paige pressed her face against his neck and gripped him as hard as she could.

  As though Zekin understood her worry and need for reassurance, he gently tightened his embrace.

  Paige swallowed. He murmured, “I won’t let anything happen to you. I give you my word.”

  She didn’t know him at all yet knew he meant what he’d said. In the short time they’d been together, he’d proven to be a good man. One of the best. When he’d kissed her, it wasn’t only with simple lust but also surprising tenderness that went beyond a man’s raw desire. As though he valued her response to him. Why?

  He was beyond hot, while she… Hell, she wasn’t anything like the other women here. She was so far from perfect it was laughable.

  He didn’t seem to notice her flaws or didn’t consider them a problem, even though he was surrounded by so many beautiful women. Did he sleep with any of them? Separately or at the same time? To Paige’s surprise, the thought disturbed and absorbed her, until his steps slowed, then stopped.

  Reluctantly, she studied the pod he’d brought her to. It was the last in a series, separated only by short halls that had no doors. Within the abbreviated space was a narrow metal pallet, rather than a regular bed, and a thin mattress covered by rough-looking linens. The transparent walls and ceiling showed an endless view of the cobalt water and Technicolor coral in this area, along with other pods nearby. They were similar in appearance and currently unoccupied.

  “There’s little privacy here,” he explained as he lowered Paige to her feet, then stepped away. “We’ve adjusted the settings so the lights can be dimmed, but they can never be turned off completely.”

  She regarded the glowing floors…the mattress. Her memory of their kiss and his response returned, sparking all of her senses. Blood pounded in her ears.

  Zekin went to the far end of the pod, behind the bed. “There’s a panel here you can press to reduce the light.” When Paige turned, he gestured to it. “It will give you some relief from the glow.” He brought back his hand and added, “You should sleep.”

  As though she could. “I’d rather not. I want to talk. I’m not tired.”

  “I am,” he said simply. “I need to rest.”

  Of course, he did. Paige’s cheeks went hot; she felt like a jerk. He’d just fought off guards, dodged monsters, ran the two-minute mile in thirty seconds and swum faster than an Olympic gold medal winner. It was a miracle he was still breathing. What if he’d hurt himself and was trying to hide his pain from her? “Are you all right?”

  She went to him, then quickly lowered her hands before she cupped his face. He might have kissed her like a soldier about to be sent to war, but it could have been a knee-jerk reaction to having survived all the crap on the surface and in the water. It didn’t mean he really wanted her, or should. They were clearly from different worlds. Paige cleared her throat, giving herself a moment to calm down and hide her embarrassment. Beneath it was a building thread of desire. Ignoring it, she said, “Can I help in any way?”

  “You can rest. Please. Eeete will help you out of what you’re wearing and will bring whatever you require.” He glanced past her at the sounds from behind. The metal floor rang dully from light footsteps.

  A young woman approached, as naked as the others in the dining area, her mound smooth, a rosy glow to her complexion that appeared even more delicate beneath the thick waves of her chestnut hair. The ends hung to her waist. Her breasts were full, a C-cup at least, the areolas tight, the tips long, perfect for a man’s mouth.

  She seemed unaware of Paige, her full attention on Zekin. Animal lust burned in her stunning powder-blue eyes, along with a longing so deep it had to be adoration or love.

  Paige glanced at Zekin to see if he felt the same about this woman…Eeete. The way he pronounced her name sounded like Eat-eeeeee.

  He hadn’t even looked at her. He regarded Paige as he spoke. “This is Eeete. I’ve taught her your language. She’ll do whatever she’s told.”

  “Wait,” Paige called out as he strode away.

  Zekin paused at the hall’s entrance but didn’t turn to her. Nor did he acknowledge Eeete, who continued to watch him with unashamed yearning.

  “Will you be coming back here?” Paige asked.

  He nodded.

  “When?”

  “Later…after I’ve slept.” He continued down the hall.

  Only when he was out of sight and his footfalls had faded completely did Eeete approach Paige. Gone was her yearning, replaced by a servile expression, the same as the other pleasure slaves in the dining area.

  Eeete ran her fingertips over a seam near Paige’s shoulder.

  “Whoa.” Paige flinched as the garment trembled like something alive. However, it didn’t fall away or crawl off of her. “What’s it doing? It’s still on me. What’s happening?”

  “I have your permission to speak?” Eeete asked.

  Paige frowned at the odd question until she recalled what Eeete was, or had been before coming here. “Of course.” She spoke as gently as she could. “Talk as much as you want.”

  The young woman seemed confused.

  Paige explained, “It’s all right for you to answer my question. About what this suit—this thing on me—is doing.”

  “It’s retreating.”

  Finally. The material slid away, rather than morphing into the camouflage clothing that Zekin and his men wore. Apparently, what he’d given her was different from his gear. Within moments, the fabric had puddled at Paige’s feet, leaving her in her underwear. She should have felt chilled but didn’t. Embarrassment heated her body. Those other pods were too close. Eventually, the people who usually slept there would come back. Possibly the perfect pleasure slaves she’d seen, with them being able to look in here.

  Right now, Eeete snuck peeks at her. She was an unbelievably breathtaking young woman, flawless in every way, except for her accent that was much thicker than Zekin’s, her words throaty. As though she hadn’t spoken for quite some time.

  “Can you bring me some clothes?” Paige asked.

  Although Eeete was on her knees folding the material, she pushed up without finishing the task, presumably to get the clothes.

  “Wait.” Paige touched the young woman’s hand, not at all surprised at its silkiness. “You don’t have to go now. You can finish. I’ll help.” She sank to her knees.

  Obediently, Eeete resumed folding the material, not waiting for Paige to help. She smoothed the fabric, then slipped her palm beneath it.

  Paige frowned at the mark on the inside of Eeete’s left wrist. “What’s that?” At firs
t, she’d thought it was a tattoo that looked oddly similar to a manufacturer’s bar code. “May I?”

  When Paige lifted Eeete’s hand, the young woman didn’t pull away. She was as obedient as a corpse. Apparently ready for anything…good or bad.

  Paige made certain not to make any sudden moves, keeping everything gentle and nonthreatening. On closer examination, she saw that the mark was a series of flat moles or freckles. Strange. “Is this a kind of birthmark?”

  “I have your permission to speak?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Always. There’s no need to ask again.” What in the world had Eeete been through at the Pleasure Palace and the outpost? “Is this a kind of birthmark?” Paige stroked the strange pattern.

  “I don’t know what a birthmark is.”

  “It’s a discoloration on a person’s skin. Maybe you refer to it by a different name.” Not knowing what that could possibly be, she asked, “What do you call this?” Again, she stroked the formation.

  “My identity.”

  Paige stared, then shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Zekin said it was my genetic code. It’s how the rulers know who I am from all the other slaves.”

  Surely that wasn’t possible. “Didn’t they know you by your name?”

  “I have no name.”

  Paige’s pulse quickened. She felt the strong beat in her throat. “You’re Eeete. Zekin said that’s what you’re called.”

  “By him.” She snuck a peek at Paige, then lowered her face once more. “It means woman in our language.”

  As comfortable as the temperature was in this pod, surely seventy-five degrees or more, Paige’s skin turned cold and clammy. “How did you come to be in the Pleasure Palace?”

  “I don’t know. I was always there. I have no memory of anything else. Zekin tried to explain it to me, but I didn’t understand much of it.”

  What could he have possibly told her? “Please, look at me,” Paige said. She touched Eeete’s cheek lightly. It was as silky as the young woman’s hand. “It’s all right for you to do that.”