by Gale Stanley
Graham looked up, noticed Simon, and made a motion for him to approach. The director closed his laptop and stood. The Were slave tilted his head down in deference. Graham didn’t bother introducing him. “We’ll be boarding shortly. It’s a long flight.”
Considering the distance and the need for privacy, they were flying a Gulfstream 550 which had a nonstop range of nearly 7,000 miles. Despite the 6.2 foot cabin height, both Simon and Baron had to duck their heads when they boarded.
Thankfully, the plane seated sixteen. Simon pleaded exhaustion and picked a seat away from the others. He didn’t relish looking at the ogre’s scarred face for ten or twelve hours. Reading occupied him for a while. Then he got up to stretch his legs and use the bathroom. Coming out of the lavatory, he glanced at the director and his slave. Graham appeared to be asleep, but Baron’s eyes shone in the dark cabin when he stared back at Simon, who looked away quickly and returned to his seat. Disturbed, he leaned back in the well-padded leather seat and tried to sleep.
* * * *
Simon looked out the window as the plane descended through the clouds. Turquoise water surrounded a land mass with spectacular sea cliffs. Waterfalls cascaded down the vertical walls and strong swells collided with the cliffs. From this altitude, he could make out few roads winding up to the summits. It was a view unlike anything he’d seen before. Simon glanced around at his traveling companions. The plane banked, and Baron turned a little green around the edges. So, you’re not as stoic as you appear. Simon grinned at the giant. Baron’s eyes narrowed as he looked back.
Fuck you! Simon turned back to the window. Now, he could make out the tops of the trees and a myriad variety of plant life. Not being a white-knuckle flier, Simon could appreciate the beauty of a tropical paradise surrounded by the sea.
The landscape obviously hadn’t changed much since its formation. It looked like something out of an old movie, Mysterious Island. Simon expected to see a prehistoric Phororhacos come lumbering out of the vegetation. No giant chicken-like bird came out to greet the plane, but Simon couldn’t help wondering what other mysteries might evolve in this Garden of Eden.
A clearing in the greenery appeared, and Simon could see that this largely undeveloped land did have an airport. Not much of one for sure, just a slab of asphalt and a low-lying building, but it must have cost plenty. Simon settled back against the soft leather. His ears popped, and he gripped the armrests. The pilot made a flawless landing, and he unbuckled as soon as the plane came to a stop.
Anxious to stretch his legs, Simon didn’t wait for Graham. He slung his duffle over his shoulder and gripped his briefcase tightly as he made his way to the exit. Once on the tarmac, he took a deep welcome breath. The cliffs hid the Pacific Ocean from view, but he could still hear the waves pounding against them and smell the salt air.
It was good to be on the ground again. Even better, there were no weary tourists here. No death march through endless airport corridors, just breathtaking natural beauty. The wind lifted his hair and the rays of the sun warmed him through and through. The sky, a gigantic blue dome enclosed him in a vacuum. He stood there for a moment, enjoying the peace and freedom from the problems back in Philadelphia. All too soon a four-wheel-drive custom Jeep pulled up for them. The driver hopped out and nodded to Graham, and Simon got in the front passenger seat. Graham raised a brow but didn’t say a word as he climbed in the back with Baron.
Simon braced himself against the seat. A feeling of total isolation took over as they drove further inland. There were very few buildings, and the ones they passed were no taller than palm trees. The Jeep pulled up to one of the larger structures and parked. The long, low wood-frame building looked like it had been put up in haste.
Graham got out of the car and noticed Simon staring at the facilities. “It’s not a five-star hotel, but we needed something here in a hurry. The landing strip was the number one priority. We settled for pre-fabricated buildings. This is only temporary. The mountainous terrain presents problems, but we have architects working on plans for a permanent installation. If you have suggestions after you look around, feel free to pass them on.”
“I will, sir.” Simon didn’t mind the lack of luxuries and big-city sophistication. The wild and uninhibited nature of the place had a charm of its own. He was about to follow the director inside, when he realized Baron hadn’t gotten out of the vehicle.
“Baron will not be staying with us. He’ll be locked safely away in one of the cottages.”
Simon felt strangely relieved at the director’s words.
“Come on. I’ll show you around.”
The two men entered the building, and Graham pointed out a lounge area with a few couches and chairs. The dining room contained nothing more than a long wood table and chairs. The lodging looked more like a barracks than anything else. Simon’s room was next door to Graham’s. It was Spartan at best. He had thirty minutes to freshen up before meeting the director out front.
* * * *
Richard Graham felt a bit nostalgic. Being out in the field reminded him how it was back in the day, when an operation required field work. It was good to get out of the office once in a while, even if the accommodations were less than ideal.
He and Simon continued their discussion as they walked over to the small holding area where the new slave was confined. They needed to make some decisions.
“How do you like the island, Simon?”
“I like it just fine, but where exactly are we, sir?”
“Simon, we’re not in the office now. I think you can call me Richard while we’re here.”
“Okay, Richard. Where are we?”
“We’re on a protected island in the South Pacific. It might be one of the last tropical island paradises left on earth, and it belongs to us. The federal government bought it outright two years ago when our problems with the Weres escalated. At the time we thought we might end up isolating certain segments of their population.”
“And is that what we’re doing here?”
“In a sense.” Graham hesitated, as if uncertain how much he should reveal. “You must keep in mind, Simon, that our agency is the last line of defense against the Weres. Our priority is to maintain the security of our country. Everything else is secondary.”
“I know that, Richard.” But am I doing my job? Uncomfortable thoughts filled Simon’s head. Can I really trust Levi? Should I have brought him with me? At the time he felt he was doing the right thing. But now he wondered if he’d made a mistake. Well, it was too late now. But maybe he should confide in Richard and tell him what he had done. He opened his mouth to give the director the news—
“Well, here we are.” Graham stopped in front of a U-shaped building similar to the one they were staying at, except there were bars on the windows and an armed guard at the door.
Simon drew in a deep breath of warm, fragrant air. Is all this really necessary? A flicker of unease crawled up his spine.
What the hell is the government doing here anyway?
Chapter Eight
Consciousness nudged at Noah, but he resisted it, drifting back into the drowsy, chemically induced state that he preferred. The drugs kept his emotions at rest. The days of allowing free rein to his feelings were long gone. Years ago, when he was forced into this life, he’d learned that keeping his mind blank was the key to survival, but he couldn’t do it without the drugs. Tranquilizers and the rare lover who allowed him the release of an orgasm were the only pleasures he had left, and the only things that helped him stay sane.
Noah clenched his eyes shut and buried his face in the mattress. He tried to return to the fuzzy dream world that was so much better than reality, but sleep eluded him. He was becoming more aware of his body, the fact that he was lying on his stomach, stiff and sore. When he tried to stretch, he discovered that his wrists were bound to an iron headboard. The hazy fog surrounding him evaporated completely. The drugs were wearing off. He sighed regretfully.
Please, dear God in he
aven, have mercy on me and send someone with more drugs.
More time passed, and no one came. Without the drugs, his mind grew a little sharper with each passing minute. Old memories came to the surface.
Noah had been captured ten years ago, when he was thirteen. The Were Resistance Movement had come after Rolf. Everyone else was collateral damage. Rolf! Thinking about the wolf-boy his parents had taken in made him unbearably sad. On that one day he lost his parents and his best friend as well.
Weres had murdered his mother and father. He’d expected to die that night, too. He wished he had, but instead he’d been tied up, a hood thrown over his head, and he’d been transported to a secret location. He’d seen Rolf for a few fleeting minutes, and then he’d been delivered to the home of the rebel leader. The man who called himself El Lobo was as handsome as he was vicious. He led the Resistance with an iron hand. His only goal was to destroy the government and replace the heads of state with his own people. Anyone who dared to disagree with him was killed.
El Lobo intended to trade Noah to the Feds in exchange for shifters who had been captured and imprisoned on trumped up charges. But the government refused to give in. The President, himself, had made a statement, saying, the United States Government does not make deals with terrorists. Evidently, an orphan boy on the verge of manhood had no value.
Furious, the Werewolf took out his aggression on the only human available—Noah. He kept him in his home as a slave, and beat him unmercifully at any excuse. Eventually when Noah got older, he was taught to service the men in sexual ways. Plied with drugs and aphrodisiacs, Noah learned quickly that if he pleased the shifters, he avoided punishment. He’d been stripped of any bit of self-worth he possessed, and he’d grown to rely on the drugs to keep his sanity.
In lucid moments, he thought of Rolf. He’d always had strong feelings for the other boy. As Noah grew older, those feelings had changed into something more. Rolf had been the object of his boyish desire and had inspired all his erotic fantasies. It had been hard, but Noah had kept those feelings to himself. He knew the other boy only saw him as a young brother.
Even after his capture, his love for Rolf hadn’t turned to hate. In fact, it had only grown stronger. Just like humans, there was good and bad in every race, and Rolf was one of the good ones. Noah knew if Rolf were still alive, he would have rescued him long ago. It was so much better not to remember. But sometimes he couldn’t help it. I need my drugs.
The noise of squeaky door hinges startled Noah, and he stopped himself from twisting his head to look. Better to pretend to be asleep until he knew who it was.
* * * *
The strong, pungent odor of urine hit Simon immediately. He took a deep breath and let Graham enter the room first.
Graham put a hand to his nose in disgust. “Christ, it stinks in here.”
The small chamber contained only the narrow bed occupied by the slave and a nightstand. The completely nude blond lay on his stomach. At least someone had removed the harness he’d been sold in. Noah appeared to be asleep, but Simon had noted a definite twitch when Graham complained of the smell.
Disgust welled up inside Simon, but it wasn’t the slave’s fault. “Hasn’t anyone seen to this man’s needs?”
Graham grunted. “He isn’t a guest. He’s a prisoner.”
“He still has basic needs that have to be tended to.”
“I don’t intend to coddle him, Simon.”
“Of course not, but I can’t question him when he’s weak with hunger and thirst.”
“Do you want to be replaced on this assignment?” Graham did not sound happy.
The thought was tempting. Simon was less and less happy with the situation, but there were problems associated with being replaced. He didn’t want to end up on Graham’s shit list. His career would be short-circuited and his father would not be pleased, but those were the least of his worries. He’d come here with the intention of helping Noah. That couldn’t happen if he were replaced. And then there was the matter of a certain Werewolf residing in his condo back home. Now he had the responsibility of two lives weighing heavily on his shoulders. He had to put on a show of indifference for Graham’s benefit.
Damn, I really need to toughen up.
Levi and Noah had brought out a side of Simon’s personality that he’d kept buried for years, his empathy for his fellow man. It was his Christian upbringing. He couldn’t seem to leave it behind.
Simon hardened his features into a mask. “This is my assignment. I just want to do the best possible job for you.”
“Hmpf.” Obviously, Graham was still irritated. “Let him sleep it off. I’ll get someone to clean him up, and we’ll question him later.”
Simon thought of Levi waiting at home for him. “No. I don’t want to wait. I’ll take care of him myself.”
Graham gave him a surprised look. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Where’s the bathroom? Oh, and he needs food and water.”
“There are keys in the drawer.” Graham pointed to the nightstand. “Have him moved to the room at the end of the hall. There’s a connecting bathroom.”
“Water, sir?”
“I’ll have someone bring it to the room. Just make sure you get results. We’ll meet in the dining room for breakfast tomorrow. Eight a.m. sharp.”
Simon watched his retreating back. Graham was a tough bastard. Currently, the Agency put a lot of emphasis on torture and punishment to get what it wanted. Simon wasn’t against brutality when necessary, but he didn’t see the need in this case. The slave was not a Were, and he was here through no fault of his own.
He stood by the bed and stared down at Noah for a long time, before sitting on the soggy mattress. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told the silent figure. With a forefinger he gently traced the web of thin scars etched in the boy’s flesh. For the first time, it pained him to look at the marks of a flogging because he knew it hadn’t been done with Noah’s consent. Noah’s back muscles tensed and Simon knew he was awake. “I’m going to uncuff your hands, Noah,” he said softly.
Simon wanted the shackles off before he went any further. He needed to look into Noah’s eyes when he talked to him. He found the keys in a drawer in the nightstand. Ignoring the pity that threatened to overtake him, he leaned over Noah’s body and unlocked the cuffs around the thin wrists. Noah’s arms fell limply to the bed. He looked even thinner than the last time Simon had seen him. In his weakened condition, it appeared that just walking down the hall might be too much for Noah. “Are you awake, Noah?” Simon asked.
“Yes, sir.” The voice was a low whisper.
Simon was surprised that he’d received an answer at all, and a polite one at that, but then he remembered he was dealing with a slave who had been trained to obey.
“My name is Simon. Can you turn over? I want to talk to you.”
Noah made an effort to turn over but only made it to his side.
Simon looked into Noah’s eyes but couldn’t detect any sign of recognition in them. He’d been heavily drugged the night of his auction. Maybe it had been for the best. At lease he’d been spared some of the pain and humiliation.
“Can I help you?” Simon asked him.
Noah appeared slack jawed and hollow eyed. Drugs?
He tried to focus his eyes on Simon. “You can do whatever you wish, sir.”
Simon swallowed the sudden lump in his throat with an effort. Helping Noah roll onto his back, Simon noticed the raw marks where the iron cuffs had dug in to Noah’s flesh. He rubbed his thumb over one of Noah’s thin wrists. The young man didn’t flinch, but Simon knew it must hurt.
“We’re going to move to another room where you can eat and get cleaned up. Do you think you can walk?”
“Yes, sir.”
Simon wasn’t so sure, but he would carry the man if he had to. “Try and sit up then.”
Noah tried to raise his head, then, with a groan, let it fall back on the mattress. He waited a few seconds and then pushed h
imself up onto his elbows, where he remained.
“Good boy,” Simon encouraged him. He stood up and waited for Noah to make a move.
“Thank you, sir.” Very carefully, Noah sat up and swung his legs to the floor.
Simon reached out for him. Noah looked at him hesitantly, then gripped Simon’s hands and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Unsteady as he was, Noah fell against Simon’s chest. Two thin arms came around Simon’s waist and held on for dear life. For the first time a hint of something other than pity crept up Simon’s spine as he embraced the boy. Not ready to explore what that meant, Simon gently disengaged Noah’s arms and helped him to the door.
With Simon’s arm around his waist, Noah walked out of the room and down the hall.
The last door on the right stood ajar. At first glance this room looked exactly like the other, and then Simon noticed the pillow and a blanket folded at the foot of the bed. More important he could breathe without the sting of ammonia in his nostrils. A small tray with a cheese sandwich and a bottle of water sat on the nightstand. Charming. A man on death row got better than this. Simon told the slave to help himself. Noah sat on the side of the bed, drained the bottle of its water, and took a few bites of the sandwich.
Simon tried to analyze his feelings while he watched him eat. Up till now, he’d felt only pity for the boy. But today Noah’s submissive nature combined with the close physical contact prompted an unwanted physical attraction. He would have to watch out for that. Simon had no intention of taking advantage of a helpless boy.
Sex should be the furthest thing from his mind. He had more important issues to deal with. Noah was human, not Were. Why bring him here? Couldn’t he have been questioned back in the States? Bait? Simon had his doubts. Surely, Graham didn’t expect Levi to find his way to this godforsaken spot looking for him? Yeah, Simon had changed his mind about that, too. This wild, remote island wasn’t the hidden gem he’d first thought. More like a hellhole.