No Mercy

by McCormick, Jenna

  The widow’s eyes filled with resignation as she turned to her friend. “Please take care of Jarvis for me.” She knelt down and hugged her son, who appeared to be eight or nine years old. “Be a good boy. Don’t ever challenge him. Promise me.”

  The boy’s eyes spilled over. “I promise.”

  “I’ll never challenge him,” Zan whispered. “I’ll never be that stupid.”

  Gia awoke with a start and lunged for the bathroom. Dear God, never in her wildest nightmares had she imagined that.

  Her stomach was empty, but that didn’t stop the dry heaves from racking her body. Every cell shook, reducing her to a quivering lump of useless nerves.

  Strong hands held her hair back as she gagged. Zan wet a cloth and bathed her forehead.

  “Which one did you see?” he asked quietly.

  “Fenton,” she said. “You were about sixteen.”

  “Jarvis didn’t keep that promise to his mother. Xander got tired of fighting them off every generation so after he defeated Jarvis, he eradicated their entire line except for one. Commander Fenton was his ward after I left. Was on the history disk I studied earlier. I knew those eyes looked familiar.”

  Defeated Jarvis. Her stomach lurched again as she thought of that fearful little boy growing into a man and dying the same way his father had.

  Gia let Zan hold her until the tremors eased. After a while she looked up at him, those golden eyes full of misery.

  He offered her a weak smile. “I’m glad you didn’t see me, during the ranking. I was just as vicious my first time through.”

  “I’m glad.” The words surprised her but she knew she meant them. “If you hadn’t been you’d have died, right?”

  He nodded. “Pretty much. Rape or die, those were my only choices.”

  She thought about that woman, Fenton’s widow, who’d watched her love die before her eyes. “I don’t want to die.”

  Zan’s hold on her tightened. “That won’t happen. I won’t allow it.”

  “You can’t promise me that, Zan. You’re a rat in the maze, just like me.”

  “Maybe, but I’m a bigger rat with a longer life span.”

  A cold shot of foreboding swept through her, and she sat up, studied his face. “No.”

  Zan nodded once. “Yes. I’m going to challenge him.”

  22

  It was time.

  Zan sat on the same dais as his father, in the same seat he’d occupied since he was born. The arena hadn’t changed, and while he and his father were probably the only reoccurring challengers from his last ranking, every face had a sameness to it.

  He was different though. As Xander’s heir he had thought to always fight on his father’s behalf. The games his father played held no appeal, not when the price was so damn high. Blood and death and loss and pain were a coward’s weapons. Waiting for Xander to give the first challenger permission to proceed was eating him up.

  Across the arena he looked to where Gia sat, an alien prisoner bound in chains. Leaving her to the guards had been the most difficult thing he’d ever done. It took all his concentration not to give in to his physical display of nerves. His knee wanted to bounce; he wanted to drum his fingers on the railing and clear his throat. This waiting would drive him mad, for all he could think about was Gia. Would he ever have the chance to hear her laugh again? The opportunity to touch her cheek or kiss her lips? Even if he won today, he’d probably lose her after she saw what he had to do.

  Finally, Xander turned his attention to the matter at hand. “Let the ranking begin. Steward of region twelve, make yourself known.”

  A tall man with an enormous gut rose from his seat in the first row.

  “Are there any challengers for the position?” Xander asked.

  Technically speaking, any man could offer a challenge, no matter his current rank. But the poverty-riddled inhabitants of Hosta were kept too weak to ever pose much of a threat. The occasional peasant who did offer a challenge usually didn’t leave the arena alive.

  No one made a noise. Xander took his time, scanning the crowd before clearing his throat. “Very well. Agrogorn, you are hereby granted the position of Steward of region twelve, border patrol for the next cycle. Resume your seat.”

  Border patrol at the edge of the desert was a shit position, second only to that of occupying the frozen northlands. With the military under Xander’s direct control, though, no one ever fought over that assignment. Fenton had been smart to get off world and out of that frozen hell when he had.

  “Steward of region eighteen, arise.”

  A lanky man in a brown cloak and smart boots stood up.

  “Are there any challengers for the position?”

  The question had barely left Xander’s lips when Agrogorn stood up. “I challenge the Steward of region eighteen.”

  Region eighteen was a salt march and distillery on the nearest moon. Apparently Agrogorn liked his booze enough to vie for the position. Zan shook his head. The jockeying for power had begun.

  Xander’s lips curled up. “We have a challenger. Both of you, disrobe and take your places.”

  The two men shed their garments and stood facing each other in the center of the arena.

  “Begin,” Xander called out.

  With an enraged bellow Agrogorn charged his opponent, but the other steward dodged him easily. Zan could already tell this was not going to end well for Agrogorn and hoped the man had taken the time to lube his ass up, for the reaming he had brought upon himself.

  In less than a minute, Agrogorn lay facedown in the dust. The Steward of eighteen looked to Xander before curling his lip in distaste and shoving his cock as deep as he could inside the other man’s ass. Agrogorn screamed, and Zan looked to Gia across the way, wondering if she’d be ill like she had that morning.

  It’s barbaric, she’d wheezed, while he stroked her hair. What kind of a sick fuck would want to partake in such a cruel ritual?

  At one time he had. Proving himself to be the greatest warrior beneath his father had been all he could think about. Dominating the men beneath him had cemented his position. Some ceded willingly and he had gone easy on them, even taken the time to make sure they enjoyed his possession. The power hungry ones, like Agrogorn, had suffered.

  What was worse, the things he’d done hadn’t plagued him at all. Covered in sweat and blood he’d gone to Isabella directly after a ranking and claimed her as his own. And she’d loved it, reveled in his power, his strength. Her commitment to him assured him that she believed he could always keep her safe. Having a beautiful wife and earning his father’s respect and his men’s loyalty at the age of thirty, Zan thought he had everything he could ever want.

  But that had been a lie, like everything else. After his father had taken him to the Infinity Pool, he’d gone straight to Isabella, to celebrate his Immortal rebirth. Losing himself in her sweet body, he hadn’t given a moment’s thought to what his new status would mean. Even if Xander hadn’t been waiting to pounce, to drag her away and have her raped before his eyes, even if his father hadn’t been a factor at all, Zan realized he still would have lost his wife. She would have grown old, probably passed on while he remained the same. Would the callow man-child he’d been have continued to love her if she’d stooped under the weight of her advanced years, if her breasts had sagged and wrinkles creased her face?

  Zan didn’t lie to himself—he wouldn’t be the man that he was if not for Isabella’s death. Fucking and fighting were the only things he’d been good at, but watching her suffer and knowing that it was his fault had changed him, had made him think.

  No, he’d take no pleasure in anything that happened today, but neither would he back down from it. As Xander called the next Steward forth Zan studied him, waiting for his time to kill or die.

  Either way, he’d do it like a man.

  Gia’d thought the violence she’d witnessed in the arena in Zan’s memories had adequately prepared her for the ranking. She’d thought nothing could be worse
than watching Xander rape and then murder Fenton’s grandfather in front of his wife and child.

  She’d been wrong.

  The men fighting for dominance, for power and position, were ruthless. Some laughed as they made their conquests squeal like captured piglets. Others called out taunts of exactly how long and hard they would ride their bested foes into the dirt. And perhaps the worst realization was how no one thought this was wrong. The crowd around her buzzed with excitement.

  Gia sat alone in her box, reserved for alien prizes, but behind her some of the spectators placed bets on the outcome of each match. A group of scantily dressed women seated to her left speculated on which man would claim which woman. More than one hoped Zan would seek her out after the ceremony was through.

  Apparently they didn’t realize that the overlord’s decree meant that Zan had to kill his lovers. Or perhaps they thought it’d be worth their lives for a thorough fuck from the space pirate with the golden eyes. Possessiveness made her catty, and if she hadn’t been gagged, Gia would have enlightened them on her status as Zan’s lover and told them exactly what they were missing.

  Her gaze returned to him again and again, her heart beating like it wanted to be set free from her rib cage and go to him. She anticipated and dreaded what would happen when his rank was called, when someone challenged him. He said he would kill his opponents outright, but somehow Gia didn’t think that would satisfy Xander’s lust for pain and humiliation. Her trussed-up state did nothing to reassure her that she wasn’t a pawn in the evil bastard’s grand scheme.

  “Gia.” Someone breathed her name so low she was sure she’d imagined it. Looking around she didn’t see any familiar faces seated nearby. Stress and exhaustion must be making her mind play tricks on her. Perhaps her need for comfort and reassurance had conjured up a friend when she so desperately needed someone to lean on.

  The crowd roared, and many of the patrons rose up as a giant of a man lifted his opponent off the ground. She couldn’t see past the backs and her bindings were too tight for her to stand, so she closed her eyes and murmured fervent prayers to whatever deity might help bail her fat out of the fire.

  “Gia!” The whispered hiss came louder this time.

  Opening her eyes, she gasped as she saw a familiar face.

  “We ain’t got much time.” Duffy crouched next to her and worked the gag out of her mouth. “You need to get into the ring with the Cap’n.”

  “Duffy?” She still wasn’t sure he was really there with her.

  He grinned, flashing even white teeth. “In the flesh. I’m surprised you remembered me, seeing as we only met briefly.”

  If it hadn’t been for Zan’s memory, she might not have recalled his first mate aboard the living ship. “How did you know where we were?”

  “Got your SOS. Listen, I don’t have time to explain everything. Just know that you need to get to an open area with Zan, and only him. I’m going to loosen your bonds, so when your moment comes, take it, all right?” As he spoke his fingers worked the knots in her bindings.

  “But . . . ?”

  “Gotta go.” Duffy yanked his hood up and vanished into the crowd.

  Wiggling her hands, Gia tested the bonds around her wrists. He’d done an admirable job, but she still didn’t know how she’d be able to reach Zan before the guards stopped her.

  Xander’s voice boomed out across the arena. “And the winner is Gilgesh! Excellent match, High Regent of the third moon colony.”

  The people in front of her sat down, and Gia saw with horror that the man Gilgesh had fought was the same one who’d accosted her and Zan in the garden pool the other day. His lifeless eyes stared almost right at her, his head turned at an unnatural angle. Gilgesh must have snapped his neck.

  Closing her eyes, Gia turned away from the sight. And the thought that sickened her more than the thunderous applause from the crowd was that that would be one less challenger to go up against Zan. Shame and the hot sun made her stomach churn. Gia’d never thought of herself as bloodthirsty, but the stark reality of rape or be raped, kill or be killed on Hosta had changed her. Zan had brought out a side of herself she’d never imagined.

  If it’s us or them, I pick us.

  “With no further challenges for the High Regent’s coveted position we’ll move on.” Xander paused for dramatic effect. “As you know, my wayward son has been gone for many years, unable to defend his position as my second. He is here today, ready to take on any challengers wishing to advance their rank. My second will reside in the comfort of the palace, will act on my behest and receive all the privileges of a member of the elite. He is also given first choice of any females present today.”

  Evil bastard. The way he described Zan’s position was surely meant to entice more challengers to vie for the rank. She tried to swallow, throat dry with the dust and clogged from emotion. Her gaze locked on Zan sitting stoically by his father’s side. She needed to get to him, needed to trust that Duffy knew what the hell he was doing and had a way to save them both.

  “I challenge him,” Gilgesh, still covered in his opponent’s blood, called out.

  “And I,” another man shouted from the stands high up to her right.

  “As do I,” a third man called from the stone benches beneath.

  Dear God, let him survive this. I can’t lose him.

  “It seems you are in demand, my son.” Xander’s voice carried to her. “Do me proud.”

  Three at once. Gia watched in horror as Zan stripped down to his skin and moved purposely from his seat. He didn’t rush forward but neither did he hesitate as he made his way to the arena.

  Glancing around her, Gia realized her guards had moved forward, toward the arena, intent to see the fight. She couldn’t ask for a better distraction, even though it came at Zan’s expense. Squirming and twisting she struggled her way free from the bonds first on her arms and then around her legs.

  Free at last she looked back to the arena and lost her breath when Gilgesh swung at Zan’s head. He ducked in time and his leg shot out, his heel slamming into the stomach of another opponent. The man fell forward, clearly winded, and Zan turned his focus back to Gilgesh just in time to dodge another punch. The third man, the last to speak, circled the melee, biding his time.

  Zan followed up with a quick series of hits, using both his arms and his legs, most of which the giant deflected. Zan sprang back, kicking out at the same time, catching the larger man off guard. His foot connected with Gilgesh’s throat and the man went down, and her space pirate executed a backward handspring until he rested on the balls of his feet, crouched in a fighting stance once more.

  Mesmerized by the sight of him, Gia momentarily forgot her escape initiative as she admired the grace and power Zan exuded. Those thickly corded muscles rippled as he twisted and struck, his fighting style some earthy combination of kung fu and street fighting. Pure, raw masculinity unleashed as he jabbed, kicked, punched, and moved in a deadly graceful dance Three opponents and he still came out ahead.

  Zan whirled and landed an elbow on the third man, who’d tried to sneak in a kidney punch when his back was turned. He whirled back to see to Gilgesh, but the giant threw a handful of the gritty sand into his face.

  “No!” Gia was on her feet and moving through the crowd as the second challenger tripped Zan as he tried to recover. He landed hard on his ass in the dirt. The crowd shouted at the injustice, but Xander didn’t call a halt to the proceedings. She glanced around, frantic to find a way down to him, hoping Duffy would come through.

  Because none of the male challengers were seated in her area, the only exit was back through the tunnel the way the guards had brought her in. She raced toward it, elbow checking the sentry there before he knew what happened. She tagged him right in the throat and kept going.

  The tunnel split and she blindly headed down. The roaring of the crowd told her something major had happened, and her heart raced faster.

  Hang on, Zan. Hang on for me.

 
The darkness of the tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, snaking down into the bowels of the mountain. The cry from the stadium grew dimmer before the dark passage gave way, and she threw her arm up against the blinding sunlight.

  Halting, she waited for her eyes to adjust and nearly fainted at the sight before her. Shock held her immobile. Zan stood directly in front of her, his naked skin slick with sweat and blood. All three of his challengers lay prone in the dirt, obviously dead.

  Dear God, what did he do?

  Xander started a slow clapping with others around the arena. “Zan, my son. You’ve proven yourself a true warrior today, worthy of your position. If there are no other challenges—”

  Zan’s hands were fisted at his side and he called out over the din. “I challenge you, Xander.”

  A hush fell over the crowd. Gia stood rooted to the spot, unable to believe what he’d just said. He’d won. Why would he challenge Xander?

  It didn’t matter what he’d done to those men, she realized. He was still alive, and she had to get to him before someone realized she wasn’t where she was supposed to be and stopped her. Or before Xander attacked him. Zan must be exhausted from his fight while Xander had been studying his technique. If they fought now, Zan would likely lose.

  Would probably die.

  “Zan, no!” Gia raced toward him, hoping against hope that Duffy came through for them in time.

  Zan turned and she barreled into him, uncaring of the blood and gore, the crowd and Xander moving toward them with deadly intent.

  “Gia.” Zan looked down at her, his hand cupping her head. His lips feathered over hers lightly in a sweeping caress. “The challenge has been issued. It’s a fight to the death now. Get back.”

  He tried to set her aside. but she clung to him like a space parasite. “No.” Anytime now, Duffy.

  “Gia, I mean it. He’s going to attack, and he won’t care if you’re in the way. Get out of here while you still can.”