Sexual Memory [Dark Colony 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Elle Saint James

  Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

  In a low tone, Nathan added, “Like I said, it’s a preview. Not the main show with all the secret plot points revealed in the final few moments. I don’t know how this video ends, kid. No one does.”

  “Right.” Jeremy nodded. He didn’t look at Nathan when he added, “I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you for all you and Gray have done toward this endeavor.”

  “Sure thing, hot shot. Truth is, I’m incredibly proud of you.”

  Jeremy looked up in surprise. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “You know I had reservations about you and Angelica being a romantic item from the get go.”

  “I believe your exact words were ‘It’s fine to carry a silent torch, but I will flay you to ribbons and within an inch of your life if you ever voice your desires,’ when you mentioned it that first time.”

  “Yes. I also know she’s the one who chased you or you still wouldn’t have made the first move.”

  “True.” He flashed a grin as that acute memory of Angelica showing up in his room the first time he’d had her slid into place. He’d been fresh from the shower, wearing only a towel when she’d knocked on his door. It was an extraordinary memory he’d carry with him until the day he perished.

  “Well, I’ve watched your single-minded tenacity with regard to locating Angelica, and if I loved someone as much as you obviously love her, I’d have done all the same things you did. Although, I almost certainly would have been put in jail faster, ‘cause I’m not as well versed in regulations as you are.”

  “Thanks, Nathan.”

  “Sure thing, lover boy. I just wish it counted for something.”

  “It counts,” he said simply. Knowing he and Gray didn’t regard him poorly in this whole fiasco was very important. Especially as it pertained to any future he’d enjoy.

  Nathan said, “I know in the same situation that I’d want to be front and center on whatever ship is sent out there, but you should get used to the idea of staying behind here on Bravura.”

  Jeremy nodded. He understood. Honestly, he didn’t care as long as Angelica was alive and on her way home to him. He’d wait. Not patiently, but he’d wait.

  “Gray said he’d meet us here once he’d exhausted all of his arguments.”

  As if saying his name made him materialize, Gray strode purposefully into the secret hanger. Jeremy couldn’t read his expression as good or bad.

  “What’s the good word?” Nathan asked, sparing him the need to speak.

  “I’ve got okay news and bad news. I’m not certain I want to share either piece of information.” Gray’s gaze swept over the shuttle he’d been working to retrofit tonight. “How are the modifications coming?”

  “The shuttle is almost finished. Just needs a few tweaks. Next we’ll start on the main craft,” Jeremy responded quickly, then added, “Is the bad news about Angelica?”

  Gray pushed out a deep breath. “The okay news is that they let me listen to the horrible, static-filled transmission the Bravura communications department received this morning. It’s been traveling slowly through subspace for about a month. The bad news…” He paused as if he didn’t want to tell him Angelica was dead.

  “Just say it.” Jeremy was about to go into a rampage.

  “The gist of the message was that something went wrong on the Mirage’s from almost the moment they launched into space. But nothing specific was revealed in the audible portion of the message. Apparently whatever happened was so dire, Angelica ordered the entire crew to evacuate on the emergency shuttle immediately. There was also a garbled phrase with the words “Forbidden Zone,” but those were the only two words comprehensible.

  “If the ship was sabotaged and headed for the Forbidden Zone, I’m certain she remained aboard the Mirage alone to manage the ship in an effort to either deactivate the engines or make them stall. I told the Council that she likely did that to keep out of District Six. Anyway, if she was unsuccessful, she’d planned to depart in a life pod. If she’d been able to recover and get the ship back under control, she planned to track the shuttle and scoop them back up. However, they hadn’t heard from her as of the time the message was sent.”

  “Where are the rest of the crew?” Jeremy asked.

  “The rest of the crew is currently stranded on a planet called Thelmer. The message didn’t tell us anything we hadn’t already guessed ourselves, and the bad news is we still don’t have any information on Angelica or her whereabouts.”

  “Were there any further messages sent?” Nathan asked.

  Gray shook his head. “None that made it through. And I made them look very hard for any other one, too.”

  Jeremy asked, “Was the message coded, one of one?”

  Gray smiled, but didn’t look surprised. “Actually it was coded fourth of four. They didn’t find any trace of the first three. And I made them look. There’s no way to tell if there are any further messages coming after four until they show up, if any do.”

  “Are they letting you go with the military to pick up the crew?” Jeremy asked next. He knew he wasn’t going regardless of who ended up being stranded on Thelmer.

  Gray shook his head. “Once I figured out that Angelica likely wasn’t with them, I didn’t even ask. It’s possible she showed up there later on and whatever message was sent didn’t make it through as of yet.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “No.”

  Jeremy said quietly, “I don’t either.”

  “So I want you to keep on working as if everything is the same. Because basically it is.”

  “Right.” Jeremy caught his eye and added a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything you’ve done thus far.”

  “Don’t give up hope yet, Cahill. At least we have more information than we did before.”

  “Trust me. I won’t ever give up.”

  “Good.”

  “I truly appreciate all your progressive actions in this matter.”

  “You’re welcome, but I’d still do it regardless of your zeal. Trust me, Angelica’s safe return is important to all of us.” He and Nathan then left him to his work.

  As Jeremy retrofitted more ancient technology to the Stargazer’s shuttle he pondered the new information Gray had just brought. Of course Angelica would think of her crew first. Of course she’d stay behind to do absolutely everything to keep her ship and crew out of the Forbidden Zone of District Six.

  The good news was, she had still been alive when the Mirage’s crew had last seen her. The bad news was, now it wasn’t a far-fetched notion that she’d ended up in the only place he hadn’t been able to search. The Forbidden Zone.

  Once the Council of Bravura leaders sanctioned the military mission—which would take at least a week’s worth of paperwork before a launch—and they returned with the crew stranded on Thelmer, the retrofitted ship would be nearly ready to go. That was the day Jeremy fixated on. His new goal.

  If Angelica had miraculously found her crew on Thelmer, Jeremy would see her in a month. If the military mission returned without her, he’d wait only long enough to discover what the rescued crew members had to say. Then he’d launch quietly—and with any luck he’d be fully off everyone’s radar—headed away from Bravura, and pointed straight for the Fulchrome system, with a final destination of the Forbidden Zone for his next intensive search.

  One way or another, he’d find her and then he’d bring her back home.

  Whatever it took.

  Chapter Seven

  William took measure of the beast he’d just finished slaying. The extra heavy, double-bladed sword he held strained the muscles in his wrist and forearm, but the discomfort was worth it. The weapon had made the difference in the battle today.

  He glanced across the battlefield at the remaining gladiator still fighting today’s monster. He was as tall as William, but his head was shaved and he sported a golden beard so long, he’d braided t
he final six inches. The man obviously had a similar skill set, and he’d lasted much longer than any of the other day-to-day participants.

  Each creature they’d faced in the battle arena had been creatively brought to life. William pictured some mad scientist in the pit creating the most outrageous monsters ever conceived of.

  The color of blood for today’s match was a deep, rich purple. The arena looked like a massacre had taken place at a vineyard, and invisible vats had been hacked open to flood forth barrels of wine-colored blood into the dirt strewn ground.

  He’d also had to slay three beasts today to qualify as winner. Which was what almost always happened. Usually, an initial pair of beasts for him to deal with at first and then often one other beast from other combatants not so lucky with weapons and fighting trotted over to engage. The golden-bearded warrior with the braid was also working to dispatch his third beast.

  A roar from the other side of the arena brought his attention there. To be fair though, with one other gladiator still standing in the ring across the way, William hadn’t won anything yet.

  “He’s lasted longer than most,” Parisa whispered with a bit of awe in her tone.

  “Indeed.” Her admiration was well earned. The golden gladiator was the fiercest he’d seen to date. And after the nearly thirty battles William had fought here himself, that was saying something. The man was holding his own very well against the third monster.

  “What happens if all the beasts are dispatched, but there are two gladiators left standing in the arena?”

  “Not sure. Although, given what I know about Lord Harcourt, I am certain all will be revealed soon. If he survives.”

  The gladiator with the golden, braided beard and shaved head suddenly moved out of the path of the beast charging him in the nick of time. He twisted like a dancer, and thrust his double bladed sword deeply into the chest of the oversized animal he fought. Purple blood spewed forth like a geyser, drenching the man completely. The other gladiator threw back his head and let loose a fierce roar aimed at the sky in victory. The crowd came to their feet and roared with him.

  “Vi-Darr. Vi-Darr,” the crowd soon chanted. William and Parisa traded a curious look at the audience reaction. How did they know him?

  As with every other battle before today, once the final beast was slain, the doors along the edge of the ring opened immediately, the guards were dispatched for clean-up, beastly body removal, and to escort the last gladiator standing back into the dungeon.

  Across the arena, the other gladiator nodded once in his direction. William returned the nod. The man then sent his appraising gaze to Parisa. William didn’t like that one single bit. He frowned at the other gladiator, trying to convey his wrath with regard to a competitor eyeing what was his. If the man was the least bit concerned about William’s fury, it didn’t show.

  William certainly hoped Lord Harcourt planned to provide the man with his own reward. After nearly two months of having Parisa to himself, he wasn’t in the mood to share her at this late date.

  Gruvat interrupted his staring contest with the other gladiator, taking his weapon abruptly. William gratefully relinquished the heavy sword. Parisa hesitated before handing his back-up weapon to Gruvat. Which she did every single time. Today, Gruvat only laughed. That was an interesting reaction. Usually, he sent a furious gaze of invisible daggers her way when she didn’t cooperate or cow down as they wanted, which Parisa always promptly ignored, angering the guard further.

  Luckily, he’d been able to thwart several agonizing brain zaps from their actions in the arena. He’d make it look like he was castigating her in front of the crowd, even though he was usually grateful for whatever lifesaving thing she’d done.

  William took a step in the direction of the arena exit, leading to their room. He was tired. He was ready to rest. He wanted Parisa. They’d worked well today. They both deserved a break.

  “Hold, gladiator. Your day isn’t over yet. Go stand before your lord and master at the dais.” He laughed again and headed to the open exit. His further amusement could be heard as he carried both blood-smeared weapons out of sight.

  “Fuck. Now what?” Parisa asked under her breath. “Is it because there are two of you left?”

  “Don’t know. But the crowds haven’t dispersed yet either.” Across the arena the other gladiator walked toward the dais as well. The crowd had finally stopped chanting his name.

  Lord Harcourt, their self-proclaimed lord and master, waited patiently, his entourage surrounding him like fans after a premier digital motion recording—DMR—video show.

  “Best guess?” she asked.

  “Either I’m fighting another beast barehanded, or possibly I’m fighting the other gladiator, also without a weapon.”

  “I figured as much, too.” She glanced at the approaching man. “Personally, I think you can take him. The other gladiator, I mean.”

  William stifled a grin. “As always, I’m grateful for your faith in me.”

  “It’s well earned, my love,” she whispered.

  William subdued yet another bit of outward happiness at her use of the words my love. He loved her, too. Perhaps that was foolish in this reality, but he didn’t care. His feelings were sincere, and had been since the first day they’d awoken in the ring together.

  They both walked slowly to the place directly in front of Lord Harcourt. He bent forward, keeping his back rigidly straight, looking as regal and as pompous as always, and still surrounded by his extensive entourage.

  “You both have done well, my premier contenders. I know you’ve never met each other, but you are my two very best gladiators.” He turned toward, William. “Normally, Vidarr fights opposite the days you’re in the arena, William. Today, I wanted to see you both in action at the same time. And also why the beasts today were not as difficult to conquer.” Lord Harcourt smiled benevolently, as if bringing them all here, keeping them under lock and key, and sending them out every other day to fight to their possible death was a thoughtful gift he’d bestowed upon them, and they should be grateful.

  William wasn’t thankful in the least. But he kept his temper in check. His only play was to keep winning here in the arena.

  The other gladiator spoke, breaking William’s reverie. “I fought yesterday. And I won. I fought today, when I should have been resting. Since this is the first time I’m not the last gladiator standing, have we both won? Must we share the woman he’s chained to, or do I fight again to win what should be rightfully mine,” Vidarr said, his heavily accented words revealing William’s exact thoughts on today’s match, with the exception about sharing Parisa.

  William felt Parisa tense up at his side. He grabbed her wrist, trying to keep her from speaking. Too late.

  “I’m not some whore to be passed around and shared,” she said in an overloud, furious voice.

  Lord Harcourt launched upward from his regal chair, royal robes rippling from shoulders to knees. The benevolent expression erased completely from his florid, well-fed features. “In fact, that’s exactly what you are! If you think more of yourself than that, Slave Bitch, why then you are gravely mistaken.” Lord Harcourt glared at William suddenly like it was his fault Parisa was so blatantly outspoken in this world.

  In fact, William was the singular person who appreciated her goal of equal treatment and independence. Even as he well knew it was, unfortunately, a wasted ideal in this world.

  “I don’t want her as my prize,” Vidarr said. He stared at Parisa once more. This close, William could tell his interest in Parisa was completely dispassionate. His arm came up and straightened at the elbow. “I want her.” He pointed at an elegantly dressed blonde woman with wide, vivid blue eyes seated directly next to Lord Harcourt’s throne.

  The woman didn’t so much frown as she looked detached. But then she tilted her head slightly, looking down at Vidarr in what could only be described as the complete opposite of dispassionate.

  Her lips softened. She didn’t smile exactly. I
nstead, she devoured the other gladiator with her steady gaze. Vidarr returned that engaging stare with one of his own. William wondered if they’d once been chained together as he and Parisa were now. Vidarr folded his arms across his chest in the wake of her obvious interest in being his reward for today’s battle.

  Lord Harcourt’s nostrils flared. “Sapphire isn’t yours to request anymore. You lost that privilege when you asked for her to be taken out of the arena. You should know that already.”

  It was William’s turn to frown. He hadn’t realized that was even an option. Before he could voice a question toward that same opportunity for Parisa, Vidarr spoke again. “What if I wish to change the terms of that deal?”

  “You want her chained to you in the arena once more?” Lord Harcourt frowned, looking thoughtful, like he’d happily consider putting the woman’s life in danger again.

  “No. I wish for the opportunity to consider your other previous offer once more.” Vidarr’s gaze went to Sapphire again.

  What “other” offer was there to consider? William listened into this conversation with growing interest. There was vibrant subtext being spoken, and he wished he understood the meaning of it.

  Lord Harcourt narrowed his eyes. “I see. Well, I’ll have to think about that, now won’t I? Perhaps you should have considered your choices more carefully the last time they were generously offered.”

  “Perhaps I should have. But listen well, Slaver, either way I will not fight any more. I am done being a gladiator. Today was my last battle in this ring.” His arms had already dropped to his sides, his hands squeezing into fists over and over again.

  “No! I forbid it! I decide when you stop being a gladiator, Vidarr! Me! Not you!” Lord Harcourt’s face was mottled with anger in the wake of the gladiator’s revelation. He pointed down at Vidarr. “You will fight when I say, for as long as I say, until the end of time, if I say!”

  William watched with further interest as Vidarr glanced around at the members of the audience, so enraptured by the unfolding drama they hadn’t made even a squeak of sound since they’d stopped cheering for him.