“Special,” Laira muttered sarcastically. “So how does something like this work?”
Chal looked around. “Normally, in a regular auction, the buyers must be present to take charge of the merchandise. They would put us on a raised platform one by one and people would bid on us. Whoever was the highest bidder would then win.”
“I do not think this will work that way,” Garja replied. “I believe there are some buyers onboard. Most will be sending in bids through subspace communication. The Silarin lied and said the Sandaki had allowed them to use their space. Many did not believe this. After the auction, we will be flown to a prearranged destination and handed over.”
“This is so bullshit,” Laira cut them off. “We’re standing here chatting as if talking about a shoe sale. Fuck, we’re the shoes being sold.”
“What do you think our plans should be?” Isha asked as she leaned against a wall. “Laira, this is our fate. You knew this from the first day. Why do you still rebel against it?”
“Because I’ll be damned if I give up without a fight. There has to be something we can do.”
The four sat together and watched as, one by one, a guard led the women away. Laira twirled a piece of her hair absently as her brain raced through possible escape scenarios. All of them required weapons and some knowledge of how to fly the ship, so unless Santa was about to arrive and give her the best present ever they were all stuck. She ground her teeth as she began to jiggle her leg. There had to be some way to stop this. Because if not, it meant she would be sold and sent to someone who could do whatever it wanted with her. She felt bile rise as she imagined something worse than a Silarin. The thought was incomprehensible and damn scary.
She glanced at her friends and realized that , even if she did work up a plan , they weren’t up to executing it. Each woman was glassy-eyed and very much out of it.If they were to escape, it was going to be up to her to do it. Great. Her new body was wonderful and strong, but she doubted she could toss all three women over her shoulders and run. The picture of it in her mind made her giggle. Shit, she needed to get a hold of herself.
A Silarin approached and pointed toward Laira. It motioned her toward the door at the far side of the room. The door all the other women had gone through and not returned. She thought about ignoring it, but why? She would have to go anyway. Better to cooperate and figure something out later. She hugged each of her friends then followed the alien.
“You will make a good sale for us,” it grunted at her.
“Fuck you.”
It grabbed the small bit of fabric she wore and ripped it off. Before she could argue, it opened a door and shoved her into a dark room. The whole situation was just one more indignity to add to the list against the Silarin. One day, no matter what it took, she was going to so use her limited Tae Bo skills and just kick the shit out of these people.
A bright light came on and moved slowly over her body. The room she found herself in was fairly small and completely empty. She looked around, wondering if this was the auction. If so, where were the people? She moved back as a chair slid up from the floor. Maybe the Silarin couldn’t take the chance of the slaves getting close to the people bidding. She wondered if a bidder had been hurt in the past. If so, good, those people deserved whatever they got.
“Sit on the chair,” a mechanical voice ordered.
She smirked. Yeah, like she was falling for that. There was no way they were getting her ass in that chair unless someone came in to put it there. Damn, she hoped so. She wanted a shot at one of the assholes responsible for everything that had happened to her. She may not be able to fly the ship, nor was she a ninja, but she just wanted one opportunity to punch someone in the face. Just one time. She didn’t care what happened after that. She just wanted to make a Silarin understand what pain and humiliation was.
“Sit down,” the voice ordered again.
“Hell, no,” she said with a hand on her hip. “Come on in, and make me.”
After a long moment, a small panel in the wall slid open, and out rolled some kind of mechanical device. Laira eyed it as she moved away. She didn’t know what it was supposed to do, but she wanted to be ready. It pivoted and again wheeled toward her. Again, she evaded. She almost laughed at the ridiculous picture they must make. It was sort of like a slow motion chase that went nowhere fast.
“Get in the chair,” the device finally spoke. “You must maintain auction protocol.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I won’t.”
“You must maintain auction protocol. Those are the rules.”
If it was possible for the toaster on wheels to sound huffy, then it did. No matter how silly the thing looked and sounded, Laira didn’t let down her guard. She didn’t care that what she did was fairly useless, since it wouldn’t help her to escape. She wasn’t going to make it easy for them to sell her.
“I don’t care about auction protocol, so you can go fuck yourself.”
It propelled itself toward her again, and this time Laira kicked out, knocking it over. The thing rocked around and muttered about protocol, but it didn’t look as if it was capable of getting up. She smiled grimly as a larger door opened, and a Silarin waddled in. It eyed her through bulbous eyes for a long moment.
“You shouldn’t have broken protocol,” it scolded her.
“You shouldn’t have kidnapped me.”
“Will you not get in the chair?”
“No, I will not.”
It let out what Laira considered a sigh and pulled a narrow tube from a wrap it wore. It pressed a button and the tube extended and began to hum. “If you do not get in the chair, I will zap you and put you in the chair. This will incapacitate you for an unknown amount of time. Please choose.”
Fuck. She’d seen what one of those sticks could do when a Silarin had used it on one of the girls. Laira didn’t want it used on her. She couldn’t afford to be incapacitated, and she didn’t want the pain.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But if you get near me with that thing, I’ll take it from you and stick it up your ass. Got it?”
“Please be seated.”
She sat in the chair, and straps shot out, locking her into place, legs spread wide open. Slowly the chair turned as it showcased her body to the buying public. Humiliation washed over her, and Laira promised herself she would make them pay.
Chapter Four
Laira lay on a couch. In the background, the song “Break Stuff” played. Following the events in the room, she went to a large room to wait with all the other women. For what, Laira wasn’t sure. Maybe for someone to come bag them and take them away like Target merchandise. She gratefully collected a sarong after her turn in the chair had finished. She didn’t really want to be totally naked after the extreme humiliation of the auction. She wandered around a bit and finally settled onto a couch to stare up at the ceiling.
“Are you well?” Isha asked, sitting beside her.
“Oh yeah, I’m fucking great. I especially loved being strapped into the chair while it whirled around showing off my hoohah. All the room needed was a screaming crowd and a few poles and it would have been exactly like a cheap titty bar. That was my favorite part. Can you tell?” She sat up to give Isha room to join her.
“Yes, the chair was quite unexpected. And, as you say, it totally sucked.”
“So now what?”
Garja walked up to stand in front of them. “That was quite embarrassing. I have never heard of an auction showing off the private parts of the slaves. It was utterly disgusting. This auction is certainly being run in a shoddy manner.”
Laira laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. In fact, it sounded closer to a sob, so she ignored it. “So there’s a genteel way to run a slave auction? Christ on a cracker, Garja, people just looked at our pussies, and that’s all you can say? Fuckers. Man, I just wish Will Smith were here. He’s fucking kicked a ton of alien ass. He wouldn’t let us get treated like this.”
“Is this Wi
ll Smith your man?” Garja asked.
“Oh, dude, I wish. He’s ten kinds of hot, but no, he’s back on Earth and doesn’t know I’m alive. Bastard.” Laira lounged back to stare up at the ceiling again.
Chal joined them a short time later. “I believe, as Laira always says, that I have a fucking migraine and am in need of a drink.”
“Yeah, at least, if this were a real titty bar, we could get some kick ass drinks. We can’t even do that. Assfucks.”
Isha looked at her. “Laira, I believe you are getting more imaginative with your language. You will be quite entertaining to whoever buys you.”
“Man, I am so fucking lucky. I’m sure the whole world wishes they were me.”
Before any of the girls could reply, they were jarred off the couch and onto the floor. Laira looked around to find the whole room in disarray. Furniture flipped over and bodies were scattered everywhere as the room shifted again. Everyone slid about three feet to the right. Laira struggled up off the floor as the Silarin guard’s stick rolled away from him. Laira picked it up as the ship lurched again. A claxon sounded as the room shook.
“I think we are being attacked,” a nearby woman said.
You think? Laira thought as the Silarin pulled itself off the floor, and Laira pushed the button. The stick extended and hummed. Oh yeah, who was in charge now, bitch? That’s right, she was.
She pointed the stick at the alien. “We’re leaving.”
“You cannot,” he said and lunged at her.
She touched his arm, and he shivered for a brief second then dropped to the floor. Fuck, she loved this thing. She pressed the button again, and the weapon closed. Her mind wheeled in ten different directions as she reached to help Isha and Chal stand. They had to arm themselves. If the Silarin were under attack, the women had to be able to defend themselves no matter what happened.
“It must be the Sandaki,” Chal said, fear evident in her voice. “No one else would dare come into their space. I knew the Silarin would get us killed.”
“We are not going to panic,” Laira told her. “We have to arm ourselves. We need to find more of these sticks. We have to make sure that we don’t go down with the idiots that kidnapped us.”
“What is your plan?” Garja asked.
“Shit, I don’t know. I’ll make it up as I go. First though, let’s get the hell out of here.” Laira hurried to the door and smiled as it slid open. “I’d also be much happier with more of my bits covered up. The tiny clothes are great, but not for the company we’ll probably soon have.”
They slowly made their way out into the hall. Laira looked both ways, trying to determine the best way to go. The constant whooping of the siren was loud, and she hesitated, not truly sure what to do.
“Go left,” Garja said from behind her.
Laira shrugged and did what the woman said. She hoped they didn’t run into someone before they could find real clothing and weapons.
She peeked around a corner to ensure it was empty and glanced back at her friends. It wasn’t just Garja, Chal, and Isha behind her. Somehow, all the women from the room had fallen into line and were now trailing them like lost souls. They were approximately thirty strong, practically naked, but strong. She hoped if someone caught them, they would be so taken aback by all the boobs, tails, and tentacles, they could escape without too much effort. Then all they had to do was kick the Silarin’s asses, steal a ship, and make it to safety. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.
“Go right,” Garja said, when they came to the next corridor.
Dutifully, Laira followed directions, and a door opened as they approached. The women found themselves in another corridor, and Laira took it. She didn’t know where they were anyway, so what the hell? Maybe they would be lucky and find a cache of clothing along with a ship with instructions. Yeah, and maybe the Silarin would apologize, kiss her ass, and worship her as the supreme goddess she so obviously was. She rolled her eyes and started down the corridor again with the small parade following.
A door slid open, and Laira poked her head in. A large room with many tables met her gaze. One wall was clear and afforded a view out into space. Laira could see a gigantic black ship. Slowly, she walked into the room, stunned at the size of the vessel—at least, what she could see of it. It reminded her of the scene at the beginning of Star Wars, but this was very, very real.
“Oh my,” Isha said, stepping up beside her.
Laira looked around, thinking maybe they could hide. She dismissed the idea since there was no way someone wouldn’t see them. They resembled a troupe of strippers, so they weren’t exactly blending. Besides, if the vehicle outside the window was that large it had to have tons of people on it.
A bright flash of light nearly blinded her, and their craft rocked violently, throwing all of them to the floor. Someone was definitely getting serious about wanting in. She crossed her fingers and hoped no one would blow a hole in the side of the vessel. The day would get infinitely worse if they were sucked out into space. She didn’t think being able to hold their breath would do them much good. She picked herself up off the floor, turning to find the others doing the same. They had to get the hell out of here.
“Let’s go,” Garja said. “We can’t stay.”
“Where to?” Laira asked her.
The other woman went to the door and glanced out. Laira watched her carefully and noticed Garja’s hair moved as if in a slight breeze. What the hell?
Laira walked up to her. “Is your hair telling us what to do?”
Garja laughed. “No, it…gathers information from the environment for me. This is how I overhear conversations.”
“That is fucking cool.”
Garja beamed. “Thank you. I am checking to make sure we don’t run into anyone, but it is becoming harder.”
“I’ll take point since I have the weapon. You just tell me what direction to go.”
The little parade moved quickly out of the room and down a corridor. As they came to a corner, Laira stopped, but before Garja could say anything, a group of Silarin were on them. Laira engaged the stick and shocked two of the gray aliens as the women began to retreat. While the Silarin scrambled to help their companions, Laira grabbed Isha’s hand and tugged her along. The alarm, which had been going constantly, began to sound more urgently as the lights in the hall dimmed. Laira picked up the pace. Was the increase in intensity about them? Were they now being hunted by the Silarin? She still wasn’t sure where she was going but figured hurrying might be a positive. A million different ideas ran through her mind. She knew the Silarin were fucks so maybe they should find the people attacking them. If they were the Sandaki, as everyone thought, would they be much better?
Trust for Laira was something someone had to work to earn. She certainly didn’t give it lightly. No matter where her mind turned, none of the ideas appealed. The Silarin were the enemy in her book, and she didn’t know about the other side. Someone famous once said the enemy of my enemy is my friend, she wondered if that was really true. Shit, her head ached from worrying.
As the group of women rounded a corner, they discovered they were no longer alone. A huge man strapped into some type of neck-to-foot black armor faced them. He had to be close to six-three with shoulders wide enough to block out the dim light from the corridor behind him. His dark hair brushed his shoulders and hung loose, but for one braid, which held some type of fancy bead. His eyes were almond shaped and slightly tilted, his cheekbones high and prominent, and he had an oddly flattened nose. He reminded Laira of something or someone she’d seen before; what she couldn’t be sure. She just knew his face was familiar. As much as he’d startled her, it wasn’t equal to what he must be feeling upon seeing them. Over thirty women dressed identically, looking like a traveling show. He stared at them, surprise evident on his face.
He opened his mouth, baring fangs, and let loose a cry that sent terror through the group. All the women screamed and scattered in every direction, any thought of cohesive order gone. Laira, Ch
al, Garja and Isha ran full out as they heard the man behind them yelling. Laira really didn’t want to wait around to figure out what he was saying. The only thing she knew for sure was that the Sandaki, if that’s what he was, were definitely as scary as everyone had been saying. She also knew deep in her gut that running wouldn’t do them much good. These people would catch them and probably kill them. The thought added a burst of speed as she raced up and down corridors, brushing past Silarin running and screaming in the other direction.
Rounding a corner, she plowed right into something hard and unyielding. She bounced back and fell to the floor, dropping her weapon. Looking up, she found another black clad warrior; this one though was even bigger than the last and way more intimidating. He was nearly seven-foot with thick, dark brown hair that fell nearly to his waist. It was loose except for a handful of braids decorated with brightly colored gemstone beads. Starting at his right brow and curving around to his cheekbone was an intricate tattoo that emphasized his odd topaz eyes. Full lips pulled back in a growl to reveal long canines. Big cat, the voice in her head said. The Sandaki reminded her of tigers or lions back on Earth.
Once she identified the resemblance, Laira couldn’t take her eyes from him, feeling as if he were hypnotizing her in some way. He raised his head, and his nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, seeming to scent her. He dropped his gaze until he could capture hers. In a split second, something passed between them, and he began to stalk her. His steps broke the spell, and she rolled to her feet and ran. In that moment, she realized she was alone. She and the girls must have gotten separated; fuck, she couldn’t leave without them. A roar sounded behind her, which caused her to move faster. The sound sent shockwaves through her system, and her pussy flooded until she could feel moisture run down her thighs. Fuck, she wanted to stop and let this…man have her. Any way, he wanted, anywhere he wanted. The need in her forced her legs faster. She knew he was behind her. She could sense him almost breathing down her neck.
Mated (The Sandaki Book 1) Page 4