His breath came quickly; he was braced on muscular arms and watching our bodies, and then he looked up at my face. With my free hand I urged him on, squeezing and kneading the tight muscles of his ass.
“I didn’t believe we’d ever be together like this again, Lio.” His whisper was taut with emotion, and the revelation came to me like a blaze of light.
This man loved me.
It showed in every line of his body as we made love. It showed in the harsh planes of his face, the timbre of his voice. I felt it in the desperate passion of his kiss.
This man whom I had no knowledge of prior to the day before loved me to the very depths of his soul.
It made me frightened and elated. It made me sad. Grief welled up, and tears flooded my eyes. I’d have looked away, but he gripped my hair, holding my head in place.
“Helios. Open your eyes.”
I wanted to refuse, to shake my head and squint my eyes shut like a frightened child. His grip became tighter as his hips thrust hard against mine. Our sweaty bodies slid together in perfect, familiar harmony, yet I was afraid to face the moment.
“Helios.”
His voice was soft yet commanding. Against my will, I looked up at him and thought that surely I must love him. Yet I had no memory of this man. Reaching up, I stroked the side of his face, then cupped my hand over the eye patch. Without asking, I knew that this injury was inflicted because of me.
He pressed his face into my hand but never looked away.
Griffin increased his tempo; in my slick, sweaty hand, our cocks grew just that shade harder. He gasped, finally looking away from me, arching his back into the air like a great, muscular beast. I slammed backward onto the mattress; my body shuddered and heaved. My cum spilled over my fingers. In seconds, he followed. Another spasm hit me, followed by another. Our muffled groans joined in an odd, gruff harmony, followed by the sound of labored breathing in the quiet of the room.
He remained over my body, looking down into my face. I could see the realization gather and settle in his expression. Perhaps he hadn’t known that his love for me had never died. Perhaps he suddenly understood that his search had finally ended.
Whatever the case, his epiphany wasn’t followed by fear or panic. Instead, a quiet peace came over his face. Whatever he felt brought him comfort. Seeing that look on his face flushed the panic from my heart. I took a deep breath and then another.
I was safe. I was home.
He leaned down and kissed me, and I kissed him right back.
Chapter Five
WITH ONE hand on my shoulder, Griffin guided me into the low, long house that had been my home and prison for years now. As I was a slave, the front door was off-limits, so we made a quiet entrance through the back, where the kitchen and my room were located. Almost immediately, we knew that all was not well with U’shma.
The kitchen was dirty and littered; U’shma had probably sated his gambling itch with a food orgy. I smiled because cleaning up after him was no longer my concern.
What did concern me were the dull, rhythmic thuds that carried on the air. Griffin was immediately on the alert. Like me, he recognized the sound of a beating when he heard it.
We moved stealthily through the house, finally peering around a corner into U’shma’s private quarters. The room was torn apart, and my erstwhile master lay in a heap on the floor, his hands and feet tightly bound.
A man I didn’t know was swinging a heavy object in a tube of fabric. I jumped as it struck U’shma about the shoulders and head. The weapon was designed to cause minimum injury with maximum pain. I’d been visited by that sort of weapon at some point in my past. My skin pebbled in gut-twisting fear, and in spite of my antipathy of U’shma, I was compelled to defend my owner.
Griffin held me back, and while my instincts were to stop the beating, U’shma’s life wasn’t in immediate danger. There was much to be learned by waiting.
One more blow, and the man straightened.
He was tall and slender, his head crowned with a crop of rusty-colored hair in a short, bristly cut. I swallowed. He bore more than a passing resemblance to me. His profile was clean, with a slender nose and strong chin.
“Where is the slave? The copper-haired human male?”
He stood poised to swing the weapon again, and U’shma spat greenish-white blood on the floor. His face was hideously swollen, and his blunt fingers were broken and bloody.
“Fuck yourself, human!”
Got to admit, U’shma had class. He also had pretty good tolerance for pain.
The stranger began to swing the weapon, and Griffin drew his sword, cutting through the tube as it arced through the air. With one swift move, he clubbed the man with the hilt of his weapon, and the stranger fell like a stone.
Without a word, the pirate began rifling through U’shma’s clothing, searching for the missing remote. He found it on a loop around my owner’s wrist and quickly activated it.
For the first time in my memory, the cuffs dropped loose. My skin was white and chafed where they’d rested for so very long.
I stood idly rubbing my tender skin as Griffin bent and pulled the clothing from the man’s limp body. He tossed the clothes to me and then locked the cuffs around the other man’s wrists. It took only seconds to strip and don the leather pants and long-sleeved shirt.
It was amazing how well they fit. I stared at the stranger; suspicion ran through me, causing the skin to prickle on the back of my neck. This person was not unknown to me, and his presence was disturbing. Panic welled up in me, and I looked at Griffin in bewilderment. His face was taut and pale. He looked almost sick. His gaze met mine, and I was shocked at the fury I saw there. And the pain.
When Griffin produced the chastity ring and locked it onto the man’s genitals, I didn’t protest, though I felt I should have. Seeing that reflection of myself on the floor nauseated me. But this was Griffin’s game, and I’d play by his rules.
“U’shma. It appears that your slave has gone rogue. I’d suggest that you take him to a clinic for rehabilitation.” Griffin’s smile was grim and ominous.
I stomped my foot into a knee-high boot that fit perfectly. It could have been custom-made for me.
From the floor, U’shma struggled against his bonds. “Pasha, release me. Now!” He glared at me in fury.
“My name isn’t Pasha. I believe that your slave is on the floor next to you.”
He cursed and struggled. “I will notify the authorities! They will track you down!”
Griffin stood back and pushed at the unconscious man with the toe of his heavy boot. He gave U’shma a threatening look and unbuckled a sword from around his hips. I grinned and caught the kilij as he tossed it to me. The scabbard fit comfortably at my hip. I couldn’t resist giving a bit of a flourish with the weapon.
“As my copilot said, your slave is on the floor next to you. If you continue to insist that Markus here”—he swept his hand in my direction—“is your slave, we’ll leave your Pasha unbound before we go. That way he’ll be able to… assist you with those ropes when he wakes up.”
At Griffin’s threat, U’shma went quiet. He was afraid of the unconscious man. I didn’t blame him. He’d administered a brutal beating.
“It’s a good trade, U’shma. He’s sound in body. If you aren’t happy with him, you can have him mind-wiped, or you can sell him to another who will appreciate his finer points.” Griffin smoothly returned his sword to its scabbard. He seemed casual. Almost as though anger and pain wasn’t eating him alive. I might have little memory of the past, but I recognized those emotions in the absence of expression in his voice and on his face.
“Perhaps you won’t be allergic to his saliva,” I suggested. When his gaze darted to the other man, I turned away so he couldn’t see my smile. Behind me, Griffin bent to check the cuffs on the unconscious man. Once again, a wave of pity rolled over me. Who was that man to me? Could we really leave him to the existence from which I’d just been liberated? Unable to
watch anymore, I wandered the house, looking at it for the last time.
My room was austere and nearly empty, containing few traces of my past life. Spare clothing hung on a peg set into the plastered wall. A mirror that was barely larger than a coin hung above a small shelf that held a pot of kohl and a hairbrush. I felt I should take something with me, something to show that I had lived these past years, some artifact of my existence. I picked up a handful of items and tucked them into my pockets.
“Are you ready, Lio?”
I looked around the barren room and nodded. When I turned away, my gaze fell on a small book that had tumbled to the floor. Griffin paused and retrieved the book, then handed it to me.
Recipes of the Uldmar Guyam. It was mine. Probably the only possession that was really mine. It was a beat-up cookbook that I’d salvaged from a pile of rubbish at the side of the street.
I smoothed my hand over the tattered cover and slipped it into the inner pocket of my vest. In the other room, I heard U’shma moving about. His voice was guttural with anger. I was leaving another to take my place in what would surely be a hellish existence. Guilt washed over me, and I looked to Griffin for reassurance.
“Helios. That man… my copilot. He meant you harm.” His voice was soft. Sympathetic. There was a thread of honesty there I couldn’t deny.
“Why?”
I studied his face, seeking and finding the truth there. The stranger had been beating U’shma, trying to force him to disclose my whereabouts. For now, that answer would suffice. Later, we would talk.
I took a breath and straightened my shoulders.
“I’m ready.”
Griffin nodded, and we walked away.
THE DOCKS were a bustling, noisy place, and as I took my seat in the shuttle that would carry us to the space docks, I realized what a cloistered, limited existence I’d led.
Griffin and I sat together, monopolizing an entire row of seats. He’d placed himself between me and the aisle, once again using his body as a living, breathing shield. After a day in his company, I’d come to realize that the gesture was automatic. He remained on alert, though his body appeared loose and comfortable. Seated next to him, I felt the tension that he hid so well. When I tried to speak, to ask him about what had happened at U’shma’s home, he shook his head. We’d speak of it later.
Humanoids of all sorts filled the sleek shuttle. Some were familiar, some were strange and alien. I watched in fascination, trying to ignore the leering smile of a scruffy blond mercenary. It was ironic that even dressed in the utilitarian clothing of a space jockey, I still drew unwelcome attention. I wondered if this had happened before my fall from grace. Somehow I doubted it. Something fundamental had changed within me, and it must have shown on the outside as well.
I glanced in the direction of the merc. He was handsome, with golden hair that grew back from his forehead, curls tumbling back down his neck. There was something in his bright blue eyes that caused my stomach to tighten. Had he been a client from another time? Or was he just flirting? I shivered and looked away, taking comfort in the warmth of Griffin’s intimidating presence. Was I to be doomed the rest of my life to look at strangers and wonder?
The shuttle was swift, and within an hour, we disembarked into a zero-grav corridor, using heavy straps attached to a conveyer belt to move us to the station. After a brief time in a pressure lock, we stepped into the noise and chaos of the Warlan space docks. I looked around and spotted the blond merc. He was going the other direction. When I could no longer see him, I was able to breathe.
Griffin led me past rows of sleek fighters and sturdy, heavily armed freighters. My gaze was caught by ships that looked like pleasure craft and others that looked like patched-together barges. We approached a disreputable-looking cruiser, and my heart dropped. Surely the crate had something magnificent in the engine room?
To my relief, we passed it and arrived at a common-looking cruiser. It was nothing special; nothing about the ship would catch the eye or draw suspicion. At our approach, a ramp slowly lowered, and without pause, we boarded the Aida. I stifled a smirk. It felt like I was boarding a sedate, boring family vessel. The trash heap docked next to us was more interesting!
As the ramp closed behind us, Griffin must have caught my skepticism.
“If you were a port agent, which cruiser would you inspect for contraband?”
His point was clear; the anonymous appearance of the Aida would draw much less attention. I shrugged and looked around at the clean, utilitarian interior of the vessel. Clearly some modifications had been made inside. This cruiser had been stripped down to the basics. This was obviously not a passenger ship. The common area had been converted to a space designated for training and exercise, with mirrored walls and padded floors. It could store plenty of cargo. I suspected there were also false walls and removable floors.
He skipped any sort of tour, heading straight for the bridge. I quietly slipped into the copilot’s seat, feeling rather useless as Griffin began a preflight check. The expression on his face was grim; I could see that he was in a hurry to leave the planet behind. There was no telling if the authorities were seeking us. I chewed on my lip, suddenly realizing what a big fucking deal this was: I was a missing king and had been hidden away as a slave on a planet notorious for criminal activity.
Someone on Warlan knew about me. Someone would quickly realize I’d escaped and left another man in my stead. If we were caught, I’d probably be mind-wiped. And Griffin? That dominant temperament of his wouldn’t be modified, even with a mind-wash. I doubted they’d bother to keep him alive.
For all I knew, the chip in my brain might activate a tracking signal. My heart fluttered in panic. And U’shma… what of him? Would he suffer from my actions?
I caught myself at that thought. Why would I care about U’shma’s fate? My hands flexed, and I dug my fingers into my knees, hoping the pain would shake me from that misplaced sympathy.
As the engines powered up, Griffin activated a holographic display over the instrument panel. It was a map with a course plotted.
“We’ll keep to the original flight plan. Our next stop is here.” He pointed to a tiny dot on the map. “It’s an agricultural planet. We’ll purchase grain and farming implements. But after we take on our cargo, we’ll be taking a slight unscheduled detour… to this little rock.”
It all meant nothing to me. I didn’t know how to read the map and didn’t recognize the system. Feeling that it was expected, I nodded in agreement.
“What’s at the planet we’re detouring to?” I gazed at the glittering display in front of me. It was nothing like the night sky of Warlan.
“Your memories.” He gave me a brief smile. “I know a few people here and there. This one won’t appreciate the visit, but he owes me.”
I rubbed the back of my head, almost imagining I could feel the microscopic implant that had taken so much from me. There was odd comfort in not knowing. It was freedom from the harsh reality to which I’d be returning. Memories held only the promise of pain and grief, of mourning the loss of so many. In all honesty, I’d rather remain safe in my forgetfulness.
For the next several hours, Griffin worked in grim silence, taking us out of the port and safely into the stars, while I simply tried to stay out of his way.
TIME DRAGGED.
I tried to sleep, but to no avail. The room was strange to me, the bed uncomfortable. I smelled a stranger in the air. We still hadn’t discussed the man we’d left behind on Warlan—the man who looked so much like me. His room said little about him beyond the fact that his body was the same size as mine. There were no mementos, no decorations or images of family or friends. Simply basic clothing and a hygiene kit. Being in his room disturbed me.
After wandering the cruiser, I returned to the large room that was clearly a gymnasium. Two walls were lined with mirrored surfaces. Standing racks held swords and poles and other weapons used in hand-to-hand combat. The other walls were padded. That made me grin, i
magining the violent sparring that must sometimes take place here. The weapons were secured by a strong magnetic force so they wouldn’t fall loose during rough travel.
I entered the room and began walking a form with the kilij in hand, letting my body guide me. If I thought about what I was doing, it slipped away. When I simply followed the sword, my body followed too. Emptying my mind soothed the panic simmering just under the surface of my thoughts.
I walked the form until my muscles burned and blisters rose on my skin. The pain threw me deeper into a strange meditative state. Words rose unbidden in my mind—nonsensical, meaningless words. Yet those words had meaning when combined with the swordplay. Faces… images wavered in my mind as I moved. Gradually I increased the speed of the set, until the room blurred in front of my weary eyes. I knew nothing but the blade and the form. This was one set, one story. This was the story of the beginning, of darkness and light—Chaos and Logos.
I knew there were others—dozens of others—but for now, I’d perfect this first set. In my imagination, I pictured the golden kilij cleaving a path through nothingness, separating it into night and day.
“Helios.”
My focus shattered, the tip of the blade dropped, and I turned to where Griffin stood leaning against the frame of the entryway. I hadn’t heard the door slide open. Another weakness. No wonder I’d needed a bodyguard.
“It’s time to stop now.” He moved to my side and pulled the hilt of the sword from my aching fingers. He examined my hands critically, cradling them in his own.
“You’ve caused yourself harm, Lio. I know this is all difficult, but you must rest. I’ll begin training you tomorrow.”
“Training me?” I looked around in confusion.
“I had to learn to fly. I didn’t expect you to walk onto a cruiser and know how to operate it. You need to train just like I did.”
That left me feeling just a bit foolish.
An Uncommon Whore (2019 Edition) Page 5