by Selena Kitt
She raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand. If she's your niece, how come you don't know where she lives?"
His hands slipped from her fingers as he sank down to the ground in front of her and sighed, deeply. "It's a long story."
"Try me. It's not like I have anywhere better to be."
Blaze told her about Maya, about his upbringing, and then, hesitantly, he told her about Sandrine… how she was being used to force him to work for Saxo. "So you see," he finished quietly, "we're on the same side. If I can find her, if I can rescue her somehow, we can escape."
Lena had sat silently while he'd talked, her emotions running riot all the while. "It explains everything," she whispered. "Why you've been so kind to me… why your 'interrogation' was nothing like what I had imagined."
"Well, actually, there are other reasons for that," he said, "but we don't need to go into them now. What I need from you is the name of the school you teach at."
"And then what?"
"Then I can go in and get her."
"Are you insane? You think you can get that close to a bunch of schoolkids? In that uniform?" Lena almost snorted in her disbelief.
"Do you have a better idea?" he snarled.
"And even if—if—you manage to snatch a girl who, as you say, won't even recognize you as her uncle, and actually make it as far as the border, how are you going to get across? Huh? You think hundreds—thousands, maybe—of people haven't already tried that already? You don't need me to tell you where they are now," she said bitterly. "I mean, fuck, you probably killed most of them yourself."
He leaned in close to her at that, hot fury blazing in his face. "Don't make assumptions like that about me," he snarled. "You have no idea what I have—or haven't—done."
"And you can stop trying to intimidate me," she spat back. "You've been trying that since the moment we met and it hasn't worked yet, so don't think it will start working now."
With a frustrated sigh, he slumped back against the desk. "You're insane."
"I'm insane? You're the one who thinks he can snatch a little girl and make it over the border with her alive."
"Look at me," he said. "What do you see?"
"A dumbass." A dumbass with eyes a girl could drown in. A dumbass who has a tender streak, fierce family loyalty, a sense of humor, and who can make me come harder than I'd ever dreamed possible.
"One more snide remark, and I'll put you over my knee, little girl."
She stared at him. "I think we're way past that, or do you need another look at my butt as a reminder of the last time you 'disciplined' me?"
"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen but you're also the most exasperating creature I've ever met!" he exclaimed under his breath. "And don't even pretend you didn't enjoy the strapping, at least towards the end… I made damn sure you did."
Desperate to change the subject, mostly because he was right, and because he was bringing up things Lena really didn't want to think about, she said, "Okay, so I'm looking at you. What am I supposed to be seeing?"
He gestured to his uniform. "I'm in the fucking militia. Not only that, but I am in charge of one of the main Saxian border patrol bases. You think I couldn't find a way to get across if I wanted to? Escaping without her wasn't an option, but now I know where to find her… I could never come back, of course, but if I escaped with her, I wouldn't want to come back. We could start all over again in Vraya."
His words stung Lena more than she wanted to admit. Part of her wanted to slap him for being so insensitive, but the other, more logical part was forced to admit that he didn't actually owe her anything. So he'd made her climax a couple of times and they'd fucked. So? It was hardly a marriage proposal, was it? Lena frowned. It wasn't like her to let anyone get under her skin the way he was doing. Biting down her disappointment, she managed, "Yeah, that makes sense."
"What's wrong?" His brow creased as he looked up into her face.
"Nothing. I'd like to go back into my cell now."
"So that's it? You're not going to help me get Sandrine out?"
She snorted. "How am I going to do that when I'm locked in here, awaiting my death sentence?"
His low, rumbling chuckle irritated her. "Don't you get it? I have a plan. If you're willing to help me, there won't be a death sentence for you. You'd be coming with us."
A tiny spark of hope, something she'd left for dead the moment she'd been captured, flared deep inside her. "I would?"
"I couldn't do it without your help." He ran his hand over his closely cropped hair. "In fact, I couldn't do it without you at all."
Lena considered. "No," she said at length.
Blaze looked up, obviously astonished. "No?"
"No," she repeated firmly. "Not unless we rescue my friends as well. The people I've been working with. We've been trying to find a way to escape for months now." Deciding that she had nothing left to lose, she went on to explain how she had joined the Resistance because she had no ties in Saxo and had dreamed of going to Vraya ever since she was a little girl. How she had come out to the base every night on recon missions, trying to obtain as much information as she could in order to help the small, ragtag group of would-be escapees maximize their chances of getting across the border alive.
"And then your men caught me," she finished in small voice.
"How many of you are there?"
"Sixteen. Seventeen, if we include Sandra."
"Sandrine," Blaze corrected automatically. "They must have changed her name to make it harder for me to find her. Bastards."
"Sorry. Sandrine."
"So let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You want me to smuggle seventeen people—plus you and me, that makes nineteen—across the border alive?"
She gave a wry smile. "Whether it's three or nineteen, what's the difference?"
He chuckled, the dimple in his cheek flashing as he did so. "You mean aside from an extra sixteen potential risk factors?"
Lena grew serious again. "I mean it. I have nothing to lose. It's either all of us, or I won't help you."
"You drive a hard bargain, young lady."
She shrugged. "It's easy to gamble when you've got nothing to lose. So… you'd better tell me your plan."
He frowned. "Well the original one won't work. But this group of people—how reliable are they?"
"Reliable?"
"Trustworthy."
"I would trust them with my life," she said.
"Good. So if I called them and told them where to find Sandrine, they'd be able to get her and—"
"It won't work," Lena interrupted him firmly. "You don't seriously think they'd tell you anything?"
"Not even if I told them I've captured you?"
Despite herself, she chuckled. "Yeah, that'll work. 'Hi, I'm Blaze. I'm a Saxian militia sergeant and I've caught Lena. Tell me where to find Sandrine and risk your lives extracting her for me. Why? Because I said so!' Don't be absurd; we've all taken an oath never to even divulge our names if we're ever captured and interrogated."
She expected him to take offence at her mockery but instead he brightened. "So my giving them your name would be proof enough that you've confided in me?"
"Hardly. It would be 'proof' that I was weak and folded under your questioning."
"Fuck." He ran his hand over his closely cropped head again, obviously thinking hard.
"I could call them," she said quietly.
"I have to get you back to either your cell or the interrogation room the moment we finish this conversation," he said. "And we're not going to be alone like this again, so there's no way you'll get to make any kind of contact with them. I'm the only one who'll have unsupervised access to an untapped phone." He shook his head. "What kind of kindergarten operation are you running, anyway?"
"I don't run it," she protested hotly. "Gregory does."
"And I don't suppose Gregory ever created any kind of code word for this kind of eventuality?"
Lena clapped her hand to her forehead. E
verything had been moving so fast, she had completely forgotten. "Actually, he did," she said quietly. "It's a phrase, not just a word. 'Every realm of nature is marvelous.' It's some ancient quote."
Blaze nodded. "Aristotle, if memory serves."
"Anyway." She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his intense stare. "He said if we're ever caught but in a position where we can escape and can get word out to the others, to use that quote."
"And that only just occurred to you now?" he asked incredulously.
Lena glared at him. "I have been a little preoccupied," she spat. "I know this is your job and everything but I don't get captured, stripped, almost raped, sexually tormented and strapped until I'm raw every day—only to then find out that my captor is actually on my side and could quite possibly end up being my—our—savior!"
There was a long, long pause.
Then, "Poor baby," he said gruffly, brushing a stray wisp of hair from her cheek with fingertips as gentle as a butterfly's wings. "You're so brave and outspoken, I guess I forget how overwhelming this must all be for you. But for this to work, we're going to have to keep up appearances, just for a bit longer. You think you can do that?"
"What do you mean?"
"It could take a day or so to arrange this. Maybe even more. You think you can be strong for me a little while longer?"
She nodded, fighting the urge to break down at his unexpected tenderness, the sudden overwhelming desire to curl up in his arms and weep and weep. Instead she lifted her chin and forced a smile. "Okay," she said at length. "Tell me how we're going to do this."
Chapter Six
Despite the chill in the air, a rivulet of sweat was trickling down Blaze's neck. He swiped it away angrily, worried someone might notice.
Calm the fuck down. Act normal. You've been doing it for days—hell, you've been doing it your whole life; pretending. This is no different. Just keep your mind on the task at hand.
But it was different. He was acutely aware of the seconds, the minutes ticking by, and his nerves were drawn so tight he could feel a throbbing at his temples. Glancing down at Lena, he was overwhelmed by a wave of admiration at the way she was handling everything. No-one watching could doubt for a second that anything had changed; if anything, she had grown even more contemptuous and disrespectful towards him since they had left his office.
As if he really had raped her.
That had been their cover story. As much as it irked him, as disgusted as he felt by having to pretend that he'd not only forced himself on a woman but that he'd enjoyed it, it had been the only thing they could think of in the short time they'd had to come up with a reason why they'd been closeted alone in his office for so long.
Gord had even congratulated him; admitted he was envious. "Should have invited us to join you… we'd all have liked a turn at that one. She's quite the little goer, isn't she?" he'd sniggered, and it had been all Blaze could do to stop himself from punching the fucker square on his ugly nose.
Lena, on the other hand, had played her part beautifully… her eyes downcast, she'd stumbled as she'd been led back to the holding cell, and Blaze still didn't know whether that had been real or an act. She'd also flinched most convincingly as he'd reached out to steady her.
Blaze had been amazed at how much that had bothered him.
After a night in the cell to 'cool off and think about whether or not she wants to start talking', a night during which Blaze had slipped away and made contact with Gregory to start the ball rolling, Lena had once again been hauled into the interrogation room and the game had begun.
They had agreed that she would start revealing tidbits of information—fake things, of course, but at least that way Blaze could be sure that he would be permitted to continue questioning her.
And as he looked down at her, once again strapped to that white, clinical table—albeit face-down this time—he mused that she really did seem to enjoy whatever he did to her. No matter whether it hurt or humiliated her; that plump little cunny of hers got as wet as his dick got hard.
If so many lives weren't on the line, if they weren't constantly being observed by silent but ever-present enemies, he would really have been able to enjoy the scenario.
Maybe one day, if their plan worked and they really did reach the utopia that was Vraya, if they really could be free, they could continue these little 'games' alone. Privately. Uninhibited, and able to speak and react however they wanted to; without worry of potential ramifications.
But those are an awful lot of ifs, he reminded himself sternly. And besides, now is definitely not the time to be thinking about that.
Blaze was worried. Actually, he was terrified. His plan had been made in complete haste, and now his entire life was in the hands of strangers; people he wouldn't even recognize on the street.
Worse still, so was Sandrine's.
Reaching down, he ran his palm across the hot curve of Lena's welted buttock, his cock twitching at her gasp.
She truly was delectable, but was she also trustworthy?
It was too big a risk to take. I shouldn’t have acted so impulsively. If anything happens to Sandrine… He stopped, unable to even face completing that thought. Besides, it was too late. The call had been made; everything was going ahead. He would follow through with his part of the plan; all he could do was hope and pray that Gregory and the others would hold up their end, as well.
Otherwise… they were all dead.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his voice to make sure his men behind the mirror could hear every word. "So let me get this straight, Anya, you have no dealings with any groups or organizations which are working against our government?"
"No," she hissed.
"I don't believe you. Why else would you be skulking around our base, trying to get intel?"
"I wasn't skulking anywhere!" she cried emphatically. "I told you, I was looking for berries."
"Yes, so you said. Strawberries, wasn't it?" he said drily, before bringing his hand down on her buttock so hard the clap echoed off the concrete walls.
She didn't even flinch.
"Yes," she said again.
Another hard smack. "They're not in season."
"Well that explains why I didn't find any," she replied, deadpan as ever, and Blaze bit his lip hard to stifle an unexpected chuckle which threatened to bubble out of him.
"Very funny," he said instead, proud of his ability to maintain his stern, commanding tone. "Now stop fucking around and give me the truth. What were you doing when my men found you on the perimeter of our base?"
"I was curious," she murmured at length. "We're always told to stay away from the bases… that bad things happen there. I heard stories while I was growing up and wanted to just… I don't know, see it."
"So do you always do the opposite of what you're told to do?"
She whipped her head around, glaring at him furiously. "Haven't you noticed that yet, Mr. Interrogator? After all, you've been telling me to talk ever since I got here!"
Blaze could almost hear his men sniggering behind the two-way mirror. As much as he admired Lena's acerbic wit—and guts—he really wasn't keen on the way she so often seemed to undermine his authority in front of witnesses. Not only did it make him look foolish, which was something he could forgive, but it also put her in danger, which was something he could not. And so it was with genuine irritation that he peppered the backs of her slim, spread thighs with hard smacks of his broad palm.
Lena gave a contrite yelp, which mollified him slightly. "You need to control your smart mouth," he said brusquely. "I've been endlessly patient with you because I chose to be; because I've enjoyed tormenting you in ways you might not have considered before—but believe me, if I want to, I can introduce you to a whole new world of hurt."
Her whispered, "Sorry, sir," went straight to his gut, and once again he cursed the fact that they were not alone. Surreptitiously, he checked his watch. Time to wrap this one up…
"I think you need som
e more time in your cell to think about what's coming next," he said loudly. "We have a very impressive whip which might start making more of an impression. I know you're more involved with an underground group than you're letting on, and I know you didn't come here to pick strawberries or to trespass for the sake of it. You're not stupid enough for that."
She remained silent for a moment, then gave the response he'd been hoping for.
"Please… don't put me back in the cell. It's cold, and I hate the dark."
"You should have thought about that before you decided to keep giving me lip," he said, deftly undoing her bonds and aiming his gaze straight towards the mirror. "Take her away and put her in her cell," he said curtly.
* * *
Lena was desperate to move; to pace; to do something to relieve the tension which was steadily growing inside her, but she didn't want to do anything to give herself away. To give the people who were always watching her the impression that she was waiting for something.
So she sat huddled in her corner of the cell, her knees drawn up tightly to her chest, and tried to focus on her breathing. Her backside hurt; her thighs still stung, and there was a gnawing, unfulfilled, pulsating ache in her sex—but all that was nothing compared to the feeling of dread in her gut. Something was bound to go wrong. It couldn't be that easy.
She and Blaze had been playing their parts ever since they'd hatched the plan in his office. After some time to cool down after he'd supposedly raped her, she had once more been taken back to the interrogation room, given some food and water, and then the questioning had begun again. Only this time, she'd actually talked.
Granted, her answers—including the name she'd given him—had all been fake. Some had been blatant untruths, others had merely been witty retorts designed to amuse and distract those watching them.
But the rest of it had been real. His fingers between her legs. The slash or whap of his strap—or a new implement, a small wooden paddle—had been unmistakably genuine, as evidenced by her inability to sit comfortably now. And the desire… oh, God, that was definitely real. Regardless of the fact that it made her want to blush with shame whenever she thought about how the way he hurt, taunted, teased and humiliated her made her melt into a weeping, throbbing pool of lust, it was a fact. It was real. And she was almost sad it would come to an end.