Wicked Beloved

by Susanne Saville

  “Thank you,” she breathed.

  It was the work of mere moments to excuse them, then he was escorting her to the door.

  A blur moved in his peripheral vision. Automatically he angled her behind him, using himself as a shield, and turned to face an oncoming Senator Wrall.

  “My dear boy, I just heard you were leaving. Vonn, isn’t it? Yes, I believe you’ve carried out several contracts for my family. Congratulations on your big day. And what is this lovely creature? Tellurian?”

  * * *

  Standing in the shelter of Dzer-Jin’s shadow made her brave. “Like you don’t know,” she snarled quietly. “Bastard.”

  They both looked at her with surprise and she remembered she was still a slave. “Sorry, master.” She knelt at his side and fixed her eyes on the floor, her heart pounding with the shock of seeing Wrall again.

  His fingers stroked through her hair and she felt comforted. He wasn’t angry about her mistake. She leaned into his touch.

  “I’m impressed,” Wrall said, and sounded so. “I thought her untrainable.”

  “Perhaps she but needed the right trainer.” Dzer-Jin’s voice was especially noncommittal.

  Wrall laughed. “Perhaps. I should send you all my leavings.”

  She fidgeted, wanting to swear or throw something at him or at the very least glare at him. Dzer-Jin must have sensed her mood, for his fingers tightened momentarily in her locks. A warning. She relaxed against him. It was important here to be obedient. She could play that, for him.

  “You did do well, though,” Wrall continued. “Let me buy her from you. I know the audience at my private dungeon would welcome her return.”

  She clutched Dzer-Jin’s leg for a moment before tearing her hands away to form fists on her knees. Panic swirled inside her. He wouldn’t sell her. She knew he wouldn’t. But the mere suggestion of being back in that fiend’s hands was too much.

  His long fingers caressed her hair once more. “My apologies, senator. Ahno’ee is not for sale.”

  “Such a delicate name. That’s sweet of you, isn’t it? But you haven’t heard my offer. What would you say to—”

  “Excuse us,” Dzer-Jin interrupted, turning to leave. She jumped to her feet.

  Wrall moved to block their way, shock and anger warring in his expression. “I don’t think you understand. I’m about to propose a substantial increase in your finances.”

  “She is not for sale at any price.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I believe I have made my position clear. Good day.”

  Wrall plucked at Dzer-Jin’s sleeve, halting his departure, and growled, “You’d better re-think your refusal.”

  Dzer-Jin slowly looked down at the hand gripping his sleeve, as if surprised hands did things like that. “Any particular point to which you wish my attention drawn?”

  “Perhaps you ought to consider my position.” The menace in his tone was unmistakable. “I could make life very difficult for you.”

  A long pause opened between them, during which Dzer-Jin smiled quizzically, still gazing at the hand. Then he glanced up, straight into Wrall’s eyes. “I work for the Assassins’ Guild. Perhaps you ought to consider that.”

  She watched the senator’s eyes widen ever so slightly. His gaze flicked from Dzer-Jin’s shoulder insignia to his new medal and his stance instantly became less aggressive.

  “Of course, Palatin, of course. Your work ethic is a model to us all. And I can understand your reluctance to sell. You’re a man of taste. I can see that. But consider, as a senator, what I could do for you.” A toothy, ingratiating grin slid into place. “More government contracts. Plus the business of all my friends, earmarked just for you. That’s on top of whatever price you ask for her. Yes, name a sum and no matter how high it is, I’ll pay it.”

  Wrall reached out to touch her hair but before she could flinch away Dzer-Jin caught the senator’s fingers in mid-air and twisted. She heard several little popping snaps. The senator’s mouth fell open in a rictus of pain and surprise as he sucked air into his lungs.

  “Scream and the wrist goes, too,” Dzer-Jin warned quietly.

  Wrall’s face turned red with the effort, but he held back all sound except for a few breathy whimpers.

  “We are leaving now. You will bother us no longer.” Dzer-Jin released him and he stepped back, cradling his hand against his chest. He avoided eye-contact with Dzer-Jin, his bleary gaze instead seeking out hers.

  “I’ll have you,” he hissed at her. “When he trades you in, I’ll be there. Count on it.”

  Dzer-Jin’s hand touched her elbow and she glanced up at him as he steered her away, his countenance aloof, not deigning to say anything more to the senator. She tried to school her features into something similarly detached. It was difficult, what with her lunch wanting to revisit her mouth. Nor was she able to relax even once they reached home, not for several hours.

  * * *

  She could tell something weighed upon his mind all that evening. He was pleasant and talkative enough, but occasionally she’d catch his eyebrows slightly crinkled, with an unfamiliar melancholy lurking behind his eyes, before he’d notice she was looking at him and turn away.

  Was he concerned about having offended the senator? Shit. Offended, nothing. He’d broken two of the man’s fingers. Of course he was having second thoughts.

  He was staring out the big window now, gazing at the stars but not really seeing them, if her assessment of his pensive countenance was correct.

  “You wouldn’t ever trade me in, would you?” The words tumbled out. She bit her lip, hoping the question wouldn’t anger him.

  “Hmmm?” She watched him gather his thoughts, returning to the present, and yet when he fixed his steely gaze upon her she was as overpowered by it as if she had been completely unprepared for his attention.

  “You wouldn’t…uh…trade me in for a newer model or something, right?”

  The hard thin line of his mouth softened. “There is no chance of that occurring.”

  “Oh good.” Such glorious relief.

  “Because you are returning to your planet,” he continued.

  “I was worried—wait. What?”

  “I am sending you back to your home world.”

  That was not how this conversation was supposed to go. He was supposed to say something like how he couldn’t live without her. Or at least that he cared for her a little bit.

  When she failed to respond he continued, “You do not belong here. You believe killing and cruelty are wrong, and aspire to kindness for its own sake. Your emotions encompass everything I lack.”

  “That’s not true,” she interrupted. “You feel….”

  He held up a hand, stopping her. “You remain here and my darkness will contaminate you.”

  “But I don’t want to leave.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with you.”

  “No…”

  “Hey, it’s my choice.”

  “No, actually, it is not. Any choice you make now is made under duress, even if you do not feel that it is. Your brain—”

  “I know, I know. Stockholm syndrome. That’s not what this is.”

  He strode over to her. “Assuming that phrase means brainwashing, you do realize that’s precisely what a brainwashing victim would say?”

  She threw her arms up in annoyance. “That’s not fair. I can’t win.”

  “Correct.” He placed his forefinger against her lips, stilling her next protest. “If I were to die on a mission…. Now that Senator Wrall has targeted you….” He shook his head impatiently and began again. “I have sworn you shall not be hurt. The only method of ensuring my word is kept is to return you to your planet.”

  “Okay, I release you from your vow. And I just won’t go. That’s all there is to it.” She crossed her arms, feeling like a petulant stamped foot would not be out of place. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t send her away like this,
like it didn’t matter. He had feelings for her, she knew that. Somehow, even on this twisted planet, he had developed feelings for her. And she loved him. Earth was a barren rock compared to being with him.

  “Senator Wrall—”

  This time it was her turn to interrupt. “Wrall’s my enemy. He’s my risk to run. If I don’t mind chancing it to stay with you, you should support me.”

  Instead of answering, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her. She melted against him, though aware this argument was far from over.

  * * *

  “Why the spaceport?” She laughed and Dzer-Jin would miss that pleasant sound as surely as he would miss his trigger finger if it were removed. “There must be better places for lunch.”

  Her smooth, warm hand in his, he led her into a secluded alcove, away from the bustle of the loading lanes. “See that shuttle?” He pointed toward the little purple craft at the end of the near dock. “That is the first step on your journey back to your planet.”

  She looked up at him as if her translating collar had stopped working.

  He cupped her face in his hands and tried to memorize her countenance. “Go home. I free you. Be happy on your Earth.”

  “But I thought—no! I want to stay with you.” Her words were practically a wail.

  “My life is no place for you. We’re too different, you and I.”

  “I could be more like you,” came her rapid reply.

  “I would not want that.”

  “You’ve already shown me how kind you can be. I know we can make this work. Please.”

  “I do not deserve your loyalty. You should reside in a place that values what you value, with a mate of your own kind.”

  “And what if I don’t want that? What if I want you?”

  “Ticket’s paid, and her quarters are set.” Beaming a cheery grin, Lagi strode up to them, right on time for Dzer-Jin’s pre-planned rendezvous. “Everyone knows she’s under your protection and they’ve promised to treat her like the Queen of Cthala.” He clapped his hands together. “All ready to go, then, Tellurian?”

  “Yes, she’s ready.” Dzer-Jin declared before she could respond and, with the speed and force of long practice, he punched her on the side of her chin.

  The force of the blow spun her and she collapsed to the ground in a loose-limbed, unconscious heap.

  For a few seconds he and Lagi were as still and silent as she was. Then Lagi broke the silence.

  “Why’d you do that?”

  “She must go back to her home world. She must.”

  He turned and caught sight of Lagi’s mouth opening and closing a few times, like he was debating whether or not to speak his thoughts.

  “What?”

  Lagi sighed. “You don’t want to know.”

  “What?” Dzer-Jin snapped again.

  “All right. I think…now, don’t get angry, but I think…you might have a pair-bond here. No, wait, hear me out. I know it’s an aberration, but something like ten percent of the population have the bent toward pair-bonding.”

  Dzer-Jin’s pulse quickened. A fear response? What should he fear? Even if he possibly perhaps possessed the smallest inclination to pair-bond with her, it was impossible. She could not stay here, where pain encompassed everything. “Those figures are disputed,” he scoffed.

  “Doesn’t stop the fact that some perverts do feel bond-desire.”

  He scowled, careful to keep all other emotions hidden. “And you think I’m one of them?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have thought so before, no. But seeing you and her together….” Lagi shrugged. “You two make the deviation seem almost natural.”

  “It is irrelevant.” In a few weary but deliberate motions, Dzer-Jin knelt beside her motionless form. The sight brought him nothing but heartache. Guilt. Loss. Loneliness. But that was his problem, not hers. He started to stroke her hair, but drew back. He didn’t deserve to touch her. “She isn’t meant to be here,” he admitted quietly.

  “No?”

  “No. Her life was interrupted. I am merely hitting reset for her.”

  “And that’s what she wants?”

  “What do you care what she wants?” Dzer-Jin bit back the snarl clawing up his throat. Normal people didn’t care. Lagi was normal. He was the abnormal one. “It’s what she needs. She needs to go home.”

  “You don’t think she’ll pine for you at all?”

  “I hit her. That’s what she’ll remember.” His eyes were watering for some inexplicable reason. “She’ll remember I betrayed her trust, broke our agreement, and hurt her. She’ll hate me and forget me.” His voice sounded embarrassingly choked and thick. He averted his face, though not before he felt a tear trickle down his cheek.

  “You’re crying.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “But—”

  “Leave it! And if she wakes up, don’t you dare tell her about this.” He indicated his overflowing eyes before swiping at them with the backs of his hands. “She must feel nothing but hate for me. Or I swear….”

  “You’ll kill me slow. I know.”

  “Precisely. Now be off with her. Put her on that shuttle. See to it that she gets to her private cabin safely.”

  With a groan of effort, Lagi hoisted her over his shoulder. “You do realize nobody frees their slaves. Nobody. And even fewer cry over them.”

  “Just go.” He stood and cleared his throat before calling after, “Lagi?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m…I’m surprised you’re handling my aberration so well.”

  Lagi smiled. “I told you. I like kinky.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Senator Wrall paid the Thieves Guild for information on the movements of a female Tellurian?” Junior clerk Hufa’s eyebrows climbed in surprise.

  Sawlo frowned at him with all the condescending disapproval years as a senior private secretary had granted him. “I already said he did, no need to repeat me. And you had best not let him see that expression.”

  “Sorry sir.” Hufa picked up his stylus and input pad, ready to receive orders.

  Sawlo continued to scan the couriered message. “Target embarked on a shuttle to the ship Oracle, traveling alone.” He tossed the creased page onto his cluttered desk. “At last. I didn’t think they’d ever find her alone. Assign Fjormid.”

  “Orders?”

  He thought for a moment. “The captain of the Oracle is to be told this female is a Creature of Interest and must be detained. Fjormid may use force on her if she resists, so long as the results are not fatal. The senator is insistent she be delivered to him alive.”

  “Acknowledged. And the senator is to take delivery from Fjormid, where?”

  Sawlo swiped through several screens on his console. “The training hall at Mirawe.”

  Hufa glanced up. “That’s not senatorial, is it? I haven’t heard—”

  “No, it’s private. This entire operation is private. Do you understand, junior clerk?”

  “Yes sir,” he responded meekly.

  “Good. Prove your discretion in this matter and perhaps one day you too may use government funds for personal projects.”

  “Yes sir!” Hufa started humming as he set about his task. The Creature of Interest would soon be on her way to Mirawe.

  * * *

  She woke with a sore face. The whole thing hurt, throbbing and stabbing, and yet the pain in her jaw was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. She’d always thought heartache was a poetical term. A word songwriters used to differentiate emotional pain from the physical. Nope. This was a physical torment. An empty yet crushing pain in the core of her being.

  Turning sideways on the cot, she glanced about at what had to be her cabin. Her cabin on a spaceship to Earth. Because that’s what he’d said he’d do. Put her on a ship bound for home. And here she was. And there wasn’t any Kleenex.

  But that was okay because she wasn’t going to cry. Nope. No crying. He wasn’t worth it. There might be vomiting, though. S
he stood.

  The room was compact, clean and orderly with a berth, a pull-down tray table, a sink, and a box-like device that was probably a toilet. She stumbled the few steps to the sink.

  Interstellar space travel. This should be exciting. She was going back to Earth. This should be a happy moment. She stared at the tap and thought about all the times she’d turned on the one at home to make bala. The one at home.

  Her knees decided they didn’t want to work anymore and she let them quit, sliding down the wall beside the basin to the floor. He didn’t want her. Not the way she wanted him. He’d been nice enough, loving enough, but when the going got tough, well then he’d just slammed the door on her—no, he’d literally hit her in the face while pushing her out.

  She fought the lump in her throat, an entrenched ball of despair that threatened to choke her. How could he do that? After all they had shared, all his kindness, he reverted to being a cruel, unfeeling monster just like everyone else on his planet. She hated him for it.

  Yes, that was it. She hated him. Sure he rejected her, technically, but she was too good for him. And she didn’t miss him and she wasn’t lonely and his betrayal was the best thing ever because now she could be glad to never seen him again.

  Unless he’d done it on purpose, for precisely that reason. She’d never know. She’d never see him again. A wail of sorrow broke past her lips.

  Hiding her face in her hands neither calmed her nor muffled her sobs. Just made her jaw hurt at the contact. Her weeping built and built upon itself until she could barely breathe.

  Vaguely she registered a rapping on her door. Someone complaining about the noise? Fuck ‘em. They hadn’t had their heart broken.

  She continued to ignore the rapping until she heard the sharp snick and immediate whoosh of her cabin door opening.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  She next awoke immobile in an unfamiliar room that smelled of urine and blood and fear. The stench made her eyes water. She tried breathing through her mouth but it didn’t help.

  The flagstone floor upon which she sat felt warm and slippery to her bare skin and what little air there was hung close and humid. She wanted a shower. Her skin itched. She recognized the chafe of rough cord. Blinking to clear her sight, she took stock of her situation.