Synnr's Saint

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Synnr's Saint Page 3

by Kate Rudolph


  She could feel the pull again.

  But this time Emily yanked back.

  There was no strike, but it set her blood on fire, sizzling until she felt like she was going to pass out. Whatever they were doing to her, it couldn’t be good. It couldn’t last.

  They were going to kill her.

  She’d feared she would die in space from the moment she woke up, but this was the first time she really believed it.

  There was one more yank, and she fought it as best she could. The power didn’t rebound as strongly, and a fizzling pop came from the alien. She could feel something trickling around her lips and when her tongue darted out to lick it away she tasted blood.

  Oh yeah, that was really bad.

  The alien doctor approached his sciency table and turned something off. The pain and electricity flowing through Emily’s veins subsided. She had no energy and had no idea how she was going to perform. But if she told the doctors that, they’d just keep her at this facility and use her up until there was nothing left. Well, there were some changes she could make to her routine. Some tricks that were easier to perform. Maybe she could make it work.

  As long as she didn’t plunge off one of the aerial platforms she’d survive.

  A few minutes later two more aliens came to the room. They unstrapped Emily from the chair and stood her up. Her feet were wobbly, but she tried not to show it. She couldn’t be weak.

  The aliens dumped her in a holding room. Lena was already there and there was a lump laying on one of the cots, covered in blankets and shivering. As far as prisons went, it wasn’t too bad. The cots were almost comfortable, and there was plenty of water and snacks, and a semi-private bathroom. The door didn’t close, but the toilet was off-set so no one had to watch anyone do their business.

  And they weren’t observed.

  At first Emily and the others hadn’t been sure, but after a few of the braver prisoners had started talking one day, they’d realized no one was coming to stop them. The door was locked and there was no other way out, so it wasn’t like they needed attendants there to keep them from escaping.

  Emily’s shoulders relaxed. This was as close to freedom as things got these days. This and her performances.

  “Is she okay?” Emily sank down onto the cot beside Lena and little Luci. She couldn’t stop her body from laying down, and she didn’t try. Whatever they’d done to her had hurt and she wanted to rest.

  Luci was the youngest of the prisoners, as far as Emily knew. She was barely eighteen and looked even younger. Lena had become a mother hen from the second they’d met, but everyone did their best to care for Luci.

  Lena patted the girl’s shoulder and sat back. The shivering seemed to slow and Luci’s breathing evened out. “It is what it is.”

  So she wasn’t doing great.

  Before she could start talking the door opened again and Grace was shoved in.

  Emily kept her face aggressively neutral as the blonde walked over to one of the cots on the far side of the room and sank down. She was wearing a thick sweater, much nicer than the scratchy, thin material that Emily’s clothes were made of. One of their captors must have given it to her. What had she had to do to earn it?

  Lena met Emily’s eyes and shook her head, clicking her mouth shut pointedly. She wanted to talk, but she wasn’t going to do it where the blonde could hear.

  “You don’t look well,” Grace said. There was something off about her accent, but Emily couldn’t place it. Not all of the prisoners spoke English, but the translators they’d been given took care of that just like they did with whatever language the aliens were speaking. Emily was pretty sure Grace spoke English, that her words weren’t being translated. She would have thought it would be obvious, lips moving all wrong like watching a dubbed movie. But the translators were so smooth it was almost impossible to tell. “Do you require refreshment?” Grace asked.

  That was it. Grace spoke like she was out of some historical novel. Sometimes. She phrased things strangely and pronounced some words like she’d only ever seen them in books. But maybe English wasn’t her first language. Emily didn’t like the woman, but she wasn’t going to hold speaking strangely against her.

  “I’m fine,” Emily grumbled. Any words said to Grace might get repeated. There would be no complaining until she was gone.

  She and Lena shared glances for a few more minutes, but it didn’t look like Grace was going anywhere. Emily finally gave up and fell into a light doze, trying to push away her discomfort. She must have actually fallen asleep, since it was Lena’s rough hand on her shoulder that woke her up.

  “She’s gone,” said Lena.

  So was Luci.

  “Any trouble?” Most of the prisoners didn’t fight. It hadn’t worked six months ago, it wouldn’t work now.

  Lena shrugged. “Luci wasn’t feeling well, but she’s tougher than she looks. Grace certainly looked comfortable.”

  The sweater had looked really freaking soft. “But at what cost?”

  Her companion just nodded. “Whatever they did to you was bad, wasn’t it?”

  Lena’s burnt gold skin had a bit of underlying pallor, but she didn’t look like she’d been through the wringer. She must have just had the normal tests. Or they’d brought her here because they knew she’d keep Luci calm.

  “It sucked,” Emily confirmed. “I don’t know how much of it I can take.”

  Lena glanced at the door then back at her, her expression serious. “Things are being put into play. It will be soon.”

  Escape.

  Lena had approached her about the prospect weeks ago. It was all that was keeping Emily going sometimes. She wanted to ask details, but Lena had made it clear she couldn’t share. The less people knew, the less chance of getting caught.

  “You’re still in?”

  Emily nodded. “I’m ready to go home.”

  THE CLUB WAS CROWDED again, and Oz recognized a few faces. Did they recognize him? Showing up too often was sure to blow his cover, but he wanted to see the human... Emily. She’d lodged herself deeply in his thoughts, appearing in his dreams and his plans. Obsession had swept through him until she was all he could think about. He didn’t know what kind of madness it was, but it had made him form a plan. Something beyond stupid that would get him fired if he got caught.

  But what else could he do?

  He couldn’t rescue everyone. And he didn’t think he could convince Cru that the humans deserved to be saved. That wasn’t the mission.

  These humans would be stranded, and when war came they’d be caught in the crossfire. But maybe saving just one would do something to assuage his conscience.

  Or maybe he was just fooling himself.

  It didn’t matter. Oz had a plan.

  Unlike Cru and Solan, Oz didn’t come from a noble family. He hadn’t been born to massive wealth, though his family was by no means poor. And he’d amassed a few thousand credits. He’d had plans for them. A small estate. A family of his own. A life outside of war. But that was a long way off, and if he could use them now to save a person he would.

  Their intel said the Apsyns had been forced to sell off some of their human stock to continue to fund their project. Now it was time to use that to his advantage. There was nothing in the profile of the person Oz was pretending to be that said he wouldn’t buy a person, so he was using that as permission.

  Slavery disgusted him. If he had the ear of the queen, he’d lobby her until she did everything in her power to eradicate the practice from every corner of Zulir territory. It didn’t matter that it was illegal, it still happened.

  But today he could use that.

  Emily took the stage, flying through the air with a different set of moves than he’d seen the other night. She didn’t flip like she had, instead launching herself straight at the trapeze and swinging, kicking her legs out and posing in contorted positions.

  He wanted to watch, wanted to see what new wonders she’d perform. But if he was going to get t
o work he had to do it quickly.

  He made his way backstage, just as he had the other night. This time he wasn’t interested in hiding. He needed to find one of the Apsyns in charge. They could give Emily to him. If he was persuasive enough.

  Another man might have sneaked in and stole her away. He’d thought of doing it for half a second, but that was much more likely to get him caught. No, he had to be his brash, country character. Claim an interest and attempt a purchase. Liberating her by any other means would compromise the mission even more than this little stunt, and Oz refused to do that.

  The frizzy-haired Apsyn from the first night was nowhere to be seen, but Oz found another woman, this one with short purple hair, expensive jewelry, and a shrewd expression. She looked like someone in charge. And she looked at him like he was a bug that needed to be crushed.

  They were close to the stage. He hadn’t realized it, but if he leaned forward he’d catch a glimpse of the tricks his Emily was performing.

  But he couldn’t look too eager. He only had so many credits to spend.

  “You’re not supposed to be back here,” said the woman. She tapped at something on her handheld holoprojector, but it was set to privacy mode so Oz couldn’t make out the details.

  “This is exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Oz shot back, doing his best to sound like an entitled, brash idiot.

  It worked. The woman spared him a second look.

  “I didn’t catch your name,” he said, grinning at her.

  “I didn’t give it.” She looked away again.

  Punting hells. She wasn’t going to be interested. He could already feel his plan falling apart at the seams. But he pushed ahead. He had to try. “No matter. I have a proposition for you. Something mutually beneficial.”

  “You have nothing I haven’t seen before, boy. And I’m not interested. Especially not for business.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, and Oz could feel failure clawing at his heels.

  But he had to try. He stepped in front of her, his back to the stage, and waved a hand through her hologram. It was the height of rudeness, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I only need a few minutes of your time.”

  The Apsyn looked up and rolled her eyes at him before shrugging. “You have three minutes.”

  “I’d like to buy the flying performer.” There. He’d said it and he hadn’t even vomited. His stomach roiled for other reasons.

  The Apsyn glanced over his shoulder. “Why?”

  “Is that important?” Oz hadn’t gotten that far in his cover story. Maybe he should have. Punt. This was a bad idea.

  “I wouldn’t want my stock mistreated by some overeager boy. Indulge me.” She stared at him in challenge.

  “She’s a talented performer and we have no one like her in my village. I think I could really start to revitalize the place if we had a reason for people to visit.” There, that sounded good. The outlying villages were struggling, shrinking year by year as they lost population to the cities. He could imagine one trying to make some sort of draw for tourists.

  Oz heard clapping and knew Emily had to almost be done. There wasn’t much time left.

  “Hmm,” the woman said. “That’s an interesting prospect. And what would you offer?”

  He named his price. It was almost all the credits in his account, and still not quite what a healthy human would go for on the open market. Could charm make up the difference?

  “Are you sure about that number?” the woman asked. Then she looked behind him, eyes narrowed. “Aerial-1, come here.”

  Oz didn’t need to turn around to know she was speaking to Emily. Who else could be coming directly from the stage? He’d hoped to avoid this. He didn’t want her to judge him as some sort of slaver. She didn’t need to know how he’d gotten her out when he planned to free her immediately.

  Emily stood silently beside him and looked at the woman, her expression blank. Her skin wasn’t as bright as it had been the other night; there was a sickly tone there, like she needed rest and meds and a good doctor to take a look at her. Was she sick? What were these monsters doing to her? He wanted to wrap her up in his wings and shield her from harm, to get her away from this place, so she could heal and find a better home.

  But he tried to keep his expression as neutral as Emily did. He couldn’t have anyone guessing his true thoughts.

  “This man seems to think you’re only worth a few thousand credits. If your performance doesn’t improve, I’ll be forced to sell you. Do better.” She waved and another Apsyn appeared from the shadows to shepherd Emily away.

  That answered that.

  And Oz felt even sicker. What would Emily think of him?

  He couldn’t worry about that.

  “So it’s a no?” He grinned, as if his heart wasn’t beating madly and his soul didn’t cry out.

  “It’s an insult, is what it is. Get out of my club before I have you thrown out.” She turned and walked away.

  This was bad. He’d brought attention to himself, hurt Emily, and compromised his mission all for nothing. He had to make sure no one found out. There was no telling how bad things would get if they did.

  Oz made his way back toward the club, but he’d only turned a corner before there was a tight grip on his hand and a flash of blonde hair. He was yanked into a small room, the door closing behind him.

  “What in Braznon’s bowels are you doing?” asked the asset.

  Chapter Four

  EMILY’S HEART CRACKED and she hated herself for it. Why should she care that some stupid alien saw her as nothing more than property? They didn’t think humans were people. That had been made more than obvious over the past six months, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. She had to get over it. Of course Oz was just like the rest of them. It didn’t matter that he’d looked at her differently. Whatever she’d thought she’d seen wasn’t real.

  Or if it was, it wasn’t good.

  He wanted to buy her?

  He’d seen her once! And she didn’t want to think about what he’d use her for. At least the ones holding her prisoner hadn’t used her for sex. She didn’t trust that a man like him would have the same line. She’d seen the desire in his eyes. She’d almost reciprocated it.

  But that was all gone now. Exploded away with his lowball offer.

  Oh, great. Was she really offended that he’d been cheap? The price shouldn’t matter!

  But, yes, okay, she was a teensy bit put off by the fact that he hadn’t wanted to pay what she was allegedly worth.

  These aliens were screwing with her mind. That was the only explanation. Lena couldn’t get them out soon enough.

  Though wouldn’t it be easier to escape from a single alien than the group that seemed to run her life? Maybe. She didn’t know. She couldn’t think.

  She’d been instructed by the handlers to head back to the waiting area, and Emily trudged along, taking her time. Her body ached from the tests that morning and her performance. She’d done her best to modify her moves to something her body could manage but it had been close. She’d almost fallen twice and one of those mistakes would have landed her straight on her head from twenty feet in the air.

  Dead. She’d almost died.

  But she had to push that aside. If she dwelled on the mistakes and could have beens she’d never be able to go back out night after night and perform. She hadn’t died. She hadn’t failed. That was what mattered.

  She heard a yelp and started moving. She knew what Luci’s cries sounded like. And Lena had a performance of her own scheduled, so she wouldn’t be able to watch the girl.

  “Get back,” a lower voice rumbled. “She’s trying to do what you said.”

  Oh, Zac. She didn’t pause when she heard flesh slapping against flesh, but as she rounded the corner she wasn’t shocked to see Zac on the ground, clutching at his eye while Luci cowered behind him. The alien stepped around Zac and gave him a light kick for good measure. Emily ducked back to stay out of sight until they were dr
agging Luci away. Coward. Maybe she should have stepped up, should have tried to save the girl like Zac had, but all it would get her was a kick of her own.

  Zac was pushing up, wincing all the way when she got to him. Emily crouched down. “Let’s see it,” she said, gently tilting his chin up. Zac was about her age, twenty-four, and was somehow even paler than her, as if all his time in libraries had made him allergic to the sun. He was supposed to be doing his PhD at Notre Dame, not protecting a girl from aliens, but all of them had lives they were supposed to be living.

  “I’m fine,” he insisted, but he didn’t pull away, and he sucked in a breath when her thumb brushed the angry red edge of the welt.

  “You’re going to have a black eye.” Emily knew bruises, and there was no escaping this one. “Let’s get you some ice.” She helped him the rest of the way up and they headed for the rest quarters. Emily had him sit on one of the chairs and glared at him to stay put while she grabbed ice from the drink station. “Have you already performed?” she asked. Zac sometimes recited poetry and stories from Earth, the bloodier the better as far as the audience was concerned.

  “Yeah,” Zac took the ice from her and placed it gently against his temple. “Do you think I’ll be able to cover this up?”

  They had make up and costumes they were supposed to use to make their performances even better. It wasn’t the same stuff from Earth, obviously, but it was similar enough. “I think so,” Emily assured him. “But we can worry about that tomorrow.”

  Zac groaned. “I don’t want to worry about tomorrow. I’m too busy worrying about how I’ll explain this to my advisor. You can’t just skip town for six months and expect them to hold your spot.”

  Emily had the same worries, though the location was different. She’d been offered a job as an associate at the firm she’d clerked at, contingent upon passing the bar. But then she’d been taken. Were they even looking for her?

  The door opened and Emily jumped back in case it was one of the aliens. They didn’t like it when the humans got too close. But it was Lena and she smiled when she saw them. “I feel like I’m wrangling kittens.”

 

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