Samuel took up his position at the end of the room, his head bowed low. Veronica looked up at the strange man who stood taller, prouder than Samuel. Clearly, he was the leader. His uniform was black, the mesh brighter, more of it too, covering his back and chest. His eyes never left her as he spoke.
“You can have any of the others, but not this one.”
Samuel, and the man exchanged words, then Samuel reached for Marcelle, grabbing her arm, jerking her to her feet. She screamed, but he put his hand up, threatening to slap her, and she went mute.
Veronica looked up at the man standing in front of her, angered by his nonchalant attitude. He was still looking down at her, a look of confusion and intrigue on his face. She frowned, looked at Marcelle, now staring mutely at Samuel who chuckled. That was enough for Veronica.
She pushed up off the bench, coming toe-to-toe, but nowhere near eye-to-eye, with the man in black.
“Tell him to let her go!” She jammed her hands on her hips, feet spread, trying to look as intimidating as possible. And hopefully to cover up that her hands were shaking, and her heart was hammering away in her chest. This whole thing was heading in a direction she wasn’t prepared for.
The man in black, the leader, gazed down at her, dark eyes meeting hers, one eyebrow raised. For a minute, she thought he was going to just slap her and get it over with. But then he smiled.
“That is not for you to decide.” He jerked his head in Samuel’s direction. “She will be taken care of. But none of this is any of your business. You should worry more about yourself, and less about anyone else.”
“What do you want from us?”
His brows came together. She noticed a scar, a thin white line, that ran through one brow, from the center outward, nearly to the corner of his eye.
“You’ll find out soon enough… right now, you need to calm down.”
“Calm down? Are you serious?”
“I told you! We’re being sold…” Emily forced her way past Samuel. “I told you, Veronica. Oh my God, I knew it!” She grabbed the tall man’s arm. “Please. Take her, let me go. She’s a slut anyway, she sleeps around…”
The man in black glanced at Emily, and then nodded at Samuel who released Marcelle temporarily, and took Emily by the arm, pulled her away from the man in black, and shoved her onto the bench beside Satasha.
“Hey, leave her alone...” Veronica shoved the man in front of her. He looked back to her, reached out and grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm roughly. His grip was like a vice, bones in her wrist grinding together. She bit back a cry of pain.
“You fight for this girl? She is one of your…friends?” His English was better than Samuel’s, but still heavily accented. Veronica shook her head.
“She hasn’t done anything. You’ve kidnapped us…taken us against our will.”
He raised her arm, pulling her up on her toes. Her breath came short and fast, her pulse racing. Everyone else was silent, even Marcelle’s whimpering had died away.
“You’re coming with me.” The man who held her relaxed his grip just a fraction. She twisted, pulling her wrist out of his grip, but he must have anticipated her move; he dropped, stepped forward, his shoulder catching her in the stomach. The wind went out of her and then she was being lifted off her feet, her head hanging down the man’s back, his hand clamped around the back of her thigh. She beat against his back, kicked, but all he did was slap her ass. It stung, but she got the message.
The door at the end of the room hissed open again, and he swung around and moved toward it, with barely enough room to avoid hitting her head on the wall above the bench. Samuel grabbed Marcelle, pulling her to her feet.
“Leave her.”
“No. We have an agreement. She’s…” The man holding her, swung around to face Samuel, almost hitting her head into the other wall. “The agreement is no more. Release them.”
“Let me go, you bastard.” Veronica thumped the man on the back with her fists. “Leave us alone!”
But she was looking down at the people in the room from a great height, moving through the doorway, and her words seemed a little weak in the face of her being upside down over his shoulder. Samuel, his face a mask of unconcealed fury, stepped into the narrow hall, ignoring his orders. The door hissed shut behind him, and the models were left in the little room alone.
Veronica bounced along, as the man carrying her strode down a narrow corridor. The walls were no longer blue metal, but something gray, industrial looking. The floor beneath them was standard metal grates, below that cables and tubes. Steam hissed and she jumped.
He carried her easily. She wondered about the vaguely Eastern European accent. They’d been kidnapped by the Russian mob? Was there even such a thing as the Russian mob? She’d heard of stranger things happening.
“Where are you taking me?” The ceiling here was low and she couldn’t push against his back. The blood was rushing to her head, making her ears pound, her head ache. But the man remained silent.
They went through another doorway, narrowly missing getting her head smacked against the overhead frame. Then down another short hall, and up a set of metal steps that Clanked and swayed under his steps. The man stopped, and she heard the screech of metal on metal. He ducked and she did too, and they went through a narrow doorway.
Then he dropped her on a bed—a bed with a blanket, with springs that squeaked. She scrambled away from him, trying to get her balance on the narrow cot. The man stood, hands on hips, looking down at her. He was smiling. She needed to get off the bed, get her feet under her. This way, he had the advantage. And she didn’t want that.
“You’re a fighter. I like that.” His eyes moved over her, but it wasn’t a look of desire as much as a look of appreciation. “You are exactly what I wanted. A woman with passion, a beautiful body, curves… a real woman. And you have spirit.”
Reaching for the strap of her bag, her heart sank. She’d taken it off, back in the other room. And in that bag was a can of pepper spray. Her heart did a sickening little stutter step. Not that she couldn’t take him, but right now anything she could get her hands on would help.
“What do you want?” She watched him, looking for an opening. He seemed almost super-human in size, and strength. He’d carried her easily, barely breaking a sweat.
“I think I want you.”
He pulled his shirt over his head. The mesh stretched with his movements, and it clinked softly as it hit the floor. She stared in disbelief at him, trying to look for something that would help her, a weakness, but she was distracted by the scar on his torso, upper left, three broad lines that ran from his collarbone, coming together almost at the center of his chest. They looked for all the world like the bad tattoo she’d seen on a guy in a bar mimicking the claw marks of an attacking bear attack. But this was no tattoo. It did look like an animal attack, though.
She brought her gaze up to his face. “You can’t have me.”
“I can have whatever I want.”
With something between horror and disbelief, she watched as he took a step towards her, a smile curving his lips.
“Leave me alone.” Her eyes kept jumping between his face and the door, wondering if she could make a run for it. Her gaze returned to his face once again. She needed to keep her focus on his eyes, watching for that telltale flicker that said he was going to attack. She tensed, waited.
“You don’t understand, woman. I have no choice.”
He lunged, low, grabbing for her waist. She swung for his head, but he ducked under her arm, then came at her, chest against hers, pushing her onto the bed, pinning one arm beneath her. She tried to kick, but he straddled her hips with his thighs, and her feet thumped on the bed, knees hitting his back. But she still had one arm free and she swung hard, punching up with the heel of her hand toward his face.
But he easily caught her hand in his, and he was laughing as he swung it to the side, over the edge of the bed. It hurt, the edge of the bed catching her upper arm. He pushe
d harder, and she cried out in anger and pain. He raised up just a bit, and she planted one foot on the bed, bringing her other leg up between his legs. Hard. And hit her mark.
He grunted, let go of her arm, but the smile was still on his face, looking a little strained. She brought her free arm up, a big round house swing that caught him alongside the head. The grunt was louder this time, and she thought she’d hurt him. A little rush of triumph ran through her. Gus would tell her not to get cocky, but this was different. This was more than just showing up some guys at the gym.
Pushing against his chest, she managed to sit up, to get out from under the weight of his chest and push him back further. He was heavy, but he wasn’t fighting her anymore, even though he still held her wrist. Maybe she had hurt him. With the last of her energy, she swung her legs out from beneath him. She was losing momentum here, the drugged and heavy feeling from before coming back. Weakness, from hunger, from whatever they’d given her, was sapping her strength. She was fading fast.
Breathing hard, she kept her eye on him, struggling to sit up, move away from him. The headache was back, throbbing behind her eyes. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slumped wearily against the wall, waiting for his next move. Yet, as soon as she relaxed, the man let go of her wrist. She opened her eyes, looking at him. He was frowning at her, confused. He looked positively disappointed.
“You are not fighting. Fight…come on, woman…fight me. Isn’t that what you do?” He growled at her, but she simply shook her head. Maybe giving in would just make this easier – make it end. “Or will you stop fighting, and listen to what I have to say?”
“Take what you want…I’m not going to fight you anymore.” She hated saying that, hated giving in or giving up.
To her surprise he sat up, sat back, moving away from her. “I will not take you by force. I never would.”
The pain in her head was vicious now, the edges of her vision growing fuzzy. Above her, his face swam in and out of focus. Whatever drugs they used, they were pretty powerful. She closed her eyes again. Maybe, if she were really lucky, she’d pass out again, and she wouldn’t remember any of what he was going to do to her. But she realized he hadn’t tried to take her clothes off. He could have torn her spandex shorts off very easily, but that didn’t seem to interest him. None of this made any sense.
“No…no fighting. No more.”
“You’re a lot like me. You fight. It’s what you do. You have the body, and the spirit of a warrior.”
She opened one eye. “I’m not like you. I would never harm another person, much less kidnap them as you have.”
His frown deepened. Either this guy was as dumb as a box of rocks, or he was high on something.
“Yes, woman, you are like me.”
“You keep saying that as though you think you know me. I’m not like you, not at all. Trust me on that.”
“But you are a warrior.” He reached down and tapped her chest with one forefinger. She slapped his hand away.
“Listen, whoever you are…”
He smiled with surprising warmth, as if they’d just met under completely different circumstances. “I’m Mikel Taso. I am the Alpha of my Clan.”
“Alpha of your Clan? I don’t get it. But you know what? I don’t want to get it.”
He remained sitting on the cot beside her, leaning back against the wall, but when she tried to swing her legs over the side of the cot, he put a hand on her ankle. His grip was like steel, but there was something almost gentle in his touch. She stopped moving.
“I don’t understand what you want from me, from us. Where are you taking us? Why did you take us?”
His brows drew together briefly, some inner conflict flashing in his eyes. He looked at her for a moment and then his expression cleared.
“You are on the ship called the Damanth. A class two carrier ship hailing from my home port.” He looked up at the ceiling. Following his gaze, she saw rusted rivets outlining metal panels, cables and conduits running overhead. There were no light fixtures; the light seemed to be coming from below them, radiating up through the grated floor. Then he turned his gaze back to her.
“A mission, a simple one. For a simple reason.” He pointed at her. “Women like you.”
“Women? You come from wherever the hell you live to kidnap women?”
He shrugged, then smiled. “You are the one commodity my planet is in short supply of. Yes. We come to your planet, and we take what we need.” He made a face. “We didn’t succeed this time, except for you. The others…too thin. Not strong enough. They were taken by mistake. They are not what my Clan desires.”
She shook her head. Her mind was spinning. Nothing about this making sense. It must be the drugs. It had to be. And it had to be him that was on the drugs. This guy was nuts.
“Planet? You’re crazy, right? You and your friends play dress up, grab a few girls—how I have no idea. And then you pretend you’re from outer space?” She laughed, a harsh sound that hurt her throat. It turned into a cough. “You’re certifiable, you know?”
He listened to her, without changing expression. “I’m not sure what certifiable is.” He pronounced each syllable carefully. “But I am not crazy. I am the Alpha of my Clan. And this mission is the same mission I’ve been sending out for the last year. The only difference is; this time I came along to look for my mate.”
This made her laugh again, but it dissolved into a fit of coughing. Her chest hurt, like she’d taken a blow to the ribs…many blows to the ribs. After a minute, the man got off the cot, crossed the room, and came back with a bottle. It was almost full of a clear, pale green liquid.
“Here. It’s just the sedative we gave you. It’s inhaled, and it makes humans cough.”
She looked at the bottle, then shook her head. “I don’t trust you.”
His face registered surprise as he looked from her to the bottle and back. Shrugging, he took a swallow of whatever was in the bottle. Then he held it out to her again.
“Wine. And very good wine. From my private stock.”
He didn’t seem affected by what he’d drank. The coughing started to hurt more. There didn’t seem to be anything to lose. Reaching out she took the bottle, put it to her lips. The liquid was smooth, cool, tasting of spice and flowers and something she could not identify. The liquid fizzed on her tongue. Maybe this was just really good wine. Then again, she’d never been a wine connoisseur. Maybe it was anti-freeze and rubbing alcohol.
But her coughing stopped. She took another swallow, which made him smile, and then she handed back the bottle. He raised it to his lips and took a long drink. When he set it down, the bottle was only half full.
“The effects of the sedatives will wear off soon. I just don’t like to see you in discomfort.”
“Are you for real? What do you care?”
Leaning back against the table behind him, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I care because I have decided you are to be mine. To be my mate.”
This time laughing didn’t bring on a coughing fit. “You expect me to believe all of this? That you’re from another planet in a spaceship, that you kidnap women, and that I’m supposed to be your mate? Come on, just tell the truth. You’re taking us to Mexico or somewhere, and you’re going to sell us, right? Top dollar for pretty models. And I’m just the odd bike messenger that got caught in your net.”
“What is your name? What do they call you?”
She blinked in confusion. “My name? You want to know my name?”
“Yes. I would like to call you by your name. It is considered polite in my Clan, to use names.”
“Wow. You really are crazy. Whatever, I’m Veronica Maxwell.”
His eyes widened. “You are royalty then, like me, with two names. Or is Maxwell your Clan name?”
She shook her head, but that only made it buzz and hurt. “No. Not royalty. Just first name and last name, like everyone else.”
“Ah…I think I understand. I will call you Max.”
“That’s not my name…” She closed her eyes again. Talking with this guy was like talking in circles. “Fine. Call me Max. I won’t be around long enough for you to call me much of anything. I want off this…whatever it is. Boat, semi, airplane. I want off, and I want off now.”
His eyebrows drew down again, the scar disappearing as he did. “You are on a class two carrier, on the way to my planet…”
“Oh, give it a rest. You really expect me to believe that?”
“Then will this change your mind?” He reached behind him and slid open one of the metal panels on the wall. All she saw was black.
“Come, look. See for yourself.” He leaned back on his hands, watching her.
Cautiously, she stood up and crossed to the edge of the table. The darkness outside seemed to go on forever; they must be in some place like Texas, miles of nothing but desert to the horizon. Leaning closer she peered out the window. If they were in a big truck, there would be running lights of some kind. A plane—which she doubted—would have lights below. All those expectations ran through her mind, along with the comeback she’d have for Taso. If that was even his name.
She cupped her hands around her face, pressing up against the glass. There were lights. Most definitely, but they weren’t running lights flashing on the pavement, or the lights of a city below. The lights she saw were pinpricks of light, but they weren’t aligned with the horizon, or the lights of cars. The lights were everywhere, but they were all out there. Far away. Like…
“Stars. Those are stars?” She pulled back, staring at Taso in disbelief. He nodded.
“Planets. Your planet, my planet…and stars. Yes.” His eyes held some sympathy, but more than a little amusement. That irritated her, and she turned back to look out the window.
“So…you’re telling the truth? You came to Earth and kidnapped us?”
“Earth…yes.” He said the words slowly. “It’s the only place for us to find what we need.”
Dark Side Of The Moon (BBW Paranormal Were-Bear Shifter Sci-Fi Romance) Page 3