"Why would—"
"Because I'm in a hurry," said Rain. "Take it or leave it."
Thass let go of Seren's face, grabbed her tit and twisted. She yelped, took a half step forward. "If that flitter's wrecked, or the hide's not prime, you're going to pay me back next time, Rain."
"Fine," said Rain. "Now take her, and let's go. Seren, suck this man's cock, and do it well."
Thass pulled her into his shop by her breast, but not far into the shop. The door was mostly glass, and Rain sat down on the bench outside, rifle in his lap, her chain in his hand, snaking under the half-open door.
Seren went down on her knees, mouth open, reaching with her hands as far as she could spread them against the ropes. She was going to a good job.
An open-handed slap across her face, then the other side. She looked back up, and his trousers were open. Not as big as Rain, but wider. She reached out, took him in her hands and mouth. And was rocked back on her heels with a stinging slap.
"No hands!" he said.
She nodded and went towards him again. It wasn't as easy that way; Rain had let her use her hands on his shaft, so she could keep the pressure up even when he was pulling back. With Thass it was just lips and tongue and the pressure of her mouth. When she looked up, he was looking down at her, but he wasn't even thrusting, and Rain was in a hurry.
She arched her back, craned her neck, managed to find a position where she had him in her mouth and there was enough give in the rope from her collar to her wrists that she could reach her pussy. She was pressed up against Thass’ leg, and the rope chafed with every stroke of her hand, but she found her rhythm, bobbing her head. Writhing, and pinching, and moaning.
That helped; Thass started moving, and she adjusted her rhythm to his, giving little satisfied yelps after every thrust.
It wasn't that she was faking it. She needed him turned on, needed him urgent, so she became urgent herself. If she hadn't asked Rain for permission, if he hadn't said no, she'd have finished there, on him, hoping to drive him over the edge by going over herself. As it was, she was balanced right on the brink.
That turned out to be enough. Thass picked up the pace, started thrusting wildly, and she tried to stay with him, making sure not to touch him with her teeth. Then he pulled out, and the last few thrusts were with his hands; he came over her, thick wads of come dripping down her cheek, her breast.
He pushed her out of the shop like that. "Sure she's not for sale, Rain?"
"If you had something like that, would you sell?" asked Rain.
"If the price was right, sure," said Thass, buckling his belt.
"I'll have to think about it," said Rain. "Not now, anyway."
"If the flitter's a wreck, you're going to be paying—"
"It's not." Rain stood, tipped his hat. "Pleasure doing business," he said, and headed on off.
The human legate in Tekeel was appointed by the Thallen Empire, and aside from this business, Seren didn't have any outstanding warrants in Thallen, at least as far as she knew. On the other hand, despite her career having had its ups and downs, she had never been brought to a magistrate naked and in chains before. She wasn't sure what to expect.
The legation was well-fortified, and it took a little convincing before they let Rain in; he had to give up his rifle and pistol at the door, but they didn't make him unchain Seren, or have her clean up or put on clothing. Possibly because the guards very clearly enjoyed the way that she looked.
It seemed that if Rain wanted her to, she'd suck them off, or lick them out, as appropriate, so there wasn't much cause for embarrassment. But there was something about the cool, amused looks on their faces, the little snickering jokes they made as she passed that left her off-balanced when they finally got to the legate's office.
The legate was a thin man, young, with small round spectacles, and the look of someone perpetually behind on his work. "What can I . . . what the hell?"
"Come for a bounty," said Rain. He took the bag of bloodstones out of his jacket. Seren hadn't thought that there were any objections left, but those were her stones; she'd worked hard to get them.
"It's been more than five days," said the legate. "While we appreciate the work you've done to keep the peace between between the humans and Carephalans, the bounty is only available when the offender is turned over to the Carephalan authorities. We—"
"That's where we're going," said Rain. "Soon as we're done here."
The legate shook his head. "She's in our custody now," he said. "It's five years labor for theft."
"As I understand it," said Rain, "humans who've committed offenses against the Carephalans in Tekeel can choose between human law or Carephalan law. She chooses Carephalan."
The legate took his spectacles off, rubbed them with a cloth. Then he looked at Seren with a faint look of disgust. "Young woman," he said. "Did you steal these stones from their Carephalan owners?"
"Yes, sir," said Seren.
"And do you choose to have your case adjudicated by human law, or Carephalan law?"
Seren looked over at Rain. He raised an eyebrow. "Carephalan law, sir," she said, and was rewarded by a trace of a smile from Rain.
The legate shook his head. "I don't know what this man has been doing to you," he said. He looked at her cheek, shook his head again. "Beyond the apparent. The facts that the Carephalans have presented us with certainly point to a thief of your description. And there are rough types in Tekeel and beyond. But if you choose human law, you will spend five years at labor, and then you will be free, your crime erased. If you choose Carephalan law, they will boil you alive and eat your corpse."
"And I get a two hundred and fifty gram bounty," said Rain.
Without his glasses, the legate looked even younger. "Listen," he said, talking to Seren. "You don't need to die so that this man can get two hundred and fifty grams of silver."
"It's your choice, Seren," said Rain. "If you want to start making choices again."
Seren swallowed nervously. Five years wasn't that long. She could just walk away from Rain, walk away from all of this. Five years, maybe an early parole; she could learn things in prison—she had the last time. It wouldn't be so bad.
"I would like to have my case adjudicated by Carephalan law, sir," she said.
The legate shook his head. "I cannot help those who do not wish to be helped," he said. Then he looked at Rain. "It may be that neither human nor Carephalan law reaches very far into the forests. But I will not be made a party to wickedness of this sort in the future."
Rain shrugged. "I'm sure you won't. But you've heard the lady; ring up the Carephalans and have them come collect their meat. And pay me."
It took a little while before they could agree on the exchange rate of Thallan pennies in grams, and a little while after that before the Carephalans showed up. Seren looked at Rain for some hint, some reason to hope that she was worth more to him than the bounty and the gratitude of the Carephalans. She didn’t find any—he only looked a little tired, a little on edge. Circumstance being what they were, she couldn't offer to relax him, but she'd have liked to.
The Carephalans came in a mass. Eight of them; seven carrying repeaters, and one with a rod of office. Big and black-furred, with the gray-green reptilian scales and orange eyes that all Carephalans had.
The one with the rod examined the bloodstones, weighed each one, checked it against a list. It nodded. "The treaty obligations have been fulfilled. Our compliments on your governmental influence extending far enough that the criminal shall pay its rightful penalty."
"That was more my influence than theirs," said Rain. "Would you object if I talked with you for a bit? We may have some business to discuss."
The Carephalan hesitated. "There is much I am tasked with accomplishing. Perhaps another time?"
Rain drew in a short breath, shook his head. "No, I—"
"As you've said," said the legate to the Carephalan with the rod, pointedly turning his back on Rain, "our treaty duties ha
ve been fulfilled. But I do not need to see this murderer profit from his actions. If he remains in my office, I'll have him shot."
Rain gave Seren's chain to the Carephalan with the rod. "I'll meet you at the hive-nest, then," he said. Then he tipped his hat to the legate, and left.
Seren's stomach flipped. He had been . . . she'd expected him to . . . she could've just said that she'd be judged by human law, and spent a few years in prison.
The Carephalans left soon after, her chain in the fine-work claw of the one with the rod of office. They took her out into the street, headed for the Carephalan hive. The looks that Seren got when she was with the Carephalans were different than she had gotten with Rain. There was still lust there, still contempt, still a vague sort of pity, but it was as though she was behind glass; as though she were already dead.
She’d taken the bloodstones from a Carephalan flitter at the airfield; she'd gotten wind of a transfer, and made her move. This was the first time that she'd been inside a Carephalan hive. It wasn't . . . it didn't seem likely that it would be relevant, but she kept an eye on the door protocols, and the locks, and the positions of the guards. She'd been good at what she did, and there was always a chance that she'd have to do it again. Not much of a chance, but even so, it was reflexes, and the faint hope that there was a future where it would matter.
That hope got fainter when they laid her down on a tile floor in what looked more or less like a kitchen, and chained her legs to a winch.
The guards left, but the one who'd taken her from the legation remained, his rod of office exchanged for a knife, which he set to sharpening. "Your legate was mistaken," it said. "You shall not be boiled alive."
Seren looked up at it. "There is too much blood in mammals for them to be cooked alive, and there are also the contents of your bowels. You shall be bled and gutted before the cooking process begins."
Yeah, that’s real comforting, Seren thought. A sound escaped her, half laugh, half sob—then the winch started, and she was pulled up by her legs, jerking her up, upside down, swinging over a metal grate.
"It is well that you chose Carephalan law," said the Carephalan. "The agreements we have with the legatory government would have required a full year between your service to their state and the resumption of our hunt. You would have been found, regardless, but it would have been a grave inconvenience."
The knife was, apparently, sharp enough. The Carephalan approached, tail twitching. This was it. Seren had made poor decisions, and then she'd done as she was told. She closed her eyes. It was a little easier, because it wasn't her fault? But that was a lie; she’d had a choice, back at the legation, and she’d chosen—
The cut didn’t come.
"While we appreciate your assistance in recovering that which belongs to us," said the Carephalan, "our business is concluded."
"Well," said someone. Seren opened her eyes again. It was Rain. He was upside down, but he'd come back. "I thought I might be able to buy back the meat."
"No," said the Carephalan. "This has stolen twelve bloodstones, the property of three great clans. There is nothing that can pay what this meal shall be worth."
"You sure?" There was something in Rain’s hand—rectangular, blue-black, sparkling. An uncut black sapphire. Despite everything, Seren reached for it, setting herself swinging gently at the end of her chain. Rain flipped the stone down the back of his fingers, made it vanish into his hand. "Well, if there's no deal possible, I suppose I'll look for a buyer. Course, the clans involved might be miffed at having lost a chance at it, but that's their lookout."
The Carephalan hesitated. It turned, held the knife to Seren's belly, then turned back. "Is it fresh?"
"Picked it last night," said Rain. "And I ate the sin myself. Clean, and unmarked, and bright as a new day." He held it up to the light. Black sapphire was neither black, nor sapphire, but it was one of the most valuable stones in the world, and Carephalans had some sort of religious attraction to them. Seren herself had an almost-religious attraction to them; they were beautiful.
"I doubt you will get what you want with that. But I will consult with the relevant authorities." The Carephalan returned the knife to its block.
"Mind if I use her while I wait?" asked Rain.
"I do not expect that she shall be kept long enough to spawn," said the Carephalan.
"Well," said Rain. "Maybe not. But it'd be relaxing way to spend the time."
The Carephalan snorted. "Mammals," he said. "Do not damage the meat, and do not make the kill."
Rain nodded and went to the winch controls as the Carephalan left. Seren had practiced climbing often enough that inversion wasn't entirely new. But there was a headache already throbbing at her temples, and pressure at her chest. It would be nice if he. . . she was going further up, not down. He stopped the winch when her head was at about the height of his crotch, and she forgot the headache.
"Please," she said, as he walked towards her, unbuckling his pants.
He smiled. "Please what?"
"Please can I suck you off." She hesitated. "Please can I come? And please don't let them kill me?"
"Yes, no, and maybe," said Rain. He stepped forward, and she took him in her mouth, her hands moving on his cock, on his balls; the angle was different, but it was Rain, and he was using her.
He hawked and spat on her cunt, and then his hands were there, lightly probing. Seren moaned. She'd asked, and he'd said no, but she wanted to. And maybe wasn't as encouraging as all that. If the Carephalans didn't go for the black sapphires, that'd be . . . the knife was still there, and the scarred and bloodied table. But he hadn't said that he didn't care; he'd said no. Hanging upside-down, blood pounding in her ears, she sucked and licked and touched. Tried to hold back, tried not to move with Rain's hands, tried not to respond the way that every part of her wanted to.
Rain kept the pace slow, deliberately drawing back, not letting his attentions up. When he drew back she followed as best she could, and when she couldn't, she tried to show him how eager she was by twisting in her chains, by her moans. Finally, she saw his thighs tense, felt the motion in his balls just before he exploded in her mouth. She'd been good. She hadn't come, but it almost felt like she had; like the pressure had been released. He pulled back, and she sighed contentedly.
He smiled down at her, cuffed her lightly on the cheek. "Damn fool, stealing from three clans. If it'd been one, we'd be heading back to the flitter already.”
Seren opened her mouth to apologize and he cuffed her again. "Could be you'll come home with me, could be not," said Rain. "If not, that's a fine last thing to have done with your mouth."
He buckled his pants, pulled over a chair, and watched. Seren waited, inverted, hopeful, frightened.
Finally, the Carephalan returned with two others. "These are the speakers of the Black-Red and the Gold," it said. "The speaker for the Green-Green is otherwise occupied; I shall bargain in its stead."
"We shall see it," said one of them. Rain took the black sapphire out from inside his vest, dropped it into the Carephalan's fine-work claw.
The Carephalans passed it around, touched it reverently, held it up to the light.
"In the interests of determining the starting positions for these negotiations," said the one who had been about to gut Seren, "What is there stopping us from taking this stone for ourselves, and giving you nothing in return?"
"Your honor, and the honor of your clans," said Rain. "And also there is the matter of these being fresh stones; that I have swallowed the sin does not mean that I have dealt with the consequences. If I am slain by a means other than that which follows, or if that which follows sees a foul dealing of this sort in my soul, well. That which was swallowed will come back up, and that which follows is of a great concern to your people."
The Carephalan holding the stone gave it back to Rain, and one of the other two pulled a table from the side of the room, set it down in front of him. It was wood and steel and probably weighed three hundred
pounds. The Carephalan had lifted it with one hand. Seren started to consider the possibility that it had been unwise to steal the bloodstones, and then not return them within the period of grace.
"There are grounds here for a deal," said another of them, squatting down beside the table. "But you cannot have all that you ask. In addition to . . . five thousand grams, let us say, we can provide you with two human females, both younger than our meat, and in better physical health."
Rain flipped the stone, held it up, his face twisted in concentration. "Your proposal has merit," he said. "But I fear that my responsibilities towards your meat prevent me from accepting an arrangement of that sort."
"We offer one-third," said the one who had moved the table. "The Gold shall give you our share of the meat, in exchange for this stone."
"And Black-Red?" asked Rain. "What is your offer?"
"One-third of the meat," said the Carephalan. "And two thousand grams."
"Green-Green?"
"One third, and a human female," said the one who had been about to gut Seren. "And one hundred and fifty-seven grams."
"But no more than a third," said Rain.
"That is the share to which we are entitled," said one of them. "The stone cannot be split, and we cannot claim more than our share."
"No, but surely there are treasures which you can exchange with each other; a first-water bloodstone, let's say, or some grams of silver, which can help in acquiring other black sapphires?"
The Carephalans hissed at each other, clacked, occasionally stopping to look at Rain, who was running the sapphire along the back of his fingers, flipping it in the air and catching it.
"No more than half," they said. "For all that it is a fine stone. It is too great an insult to bear, from this meat. This meat took the stones of our clans. It insulted our mercy by failing to return our stones in a timely fashion; it must be consumed for our clans to regain their honor; it would be too difficult to bear, if it was to be allowed to go free."
Rain put the stone down on the table. Then a second stone next to it. Seren's head was throbbing with her inversion, and she’d started to feel light-headed, but this was a different sort of light-headedness. This was something very close to hope.
The Jewel Thief Page 3