At the Mercy of Her Pleasure
Kayelle Allen
Published 2004
ISBN 1-59578-035-1
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2004, Kayelle Allen. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
http://lsbooks.com
Email:
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Cover Art
by Laura Givens
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
DEDICATION of Mercy
To my husband Ed, who always said we were a team and that if part of the team was winning, the whole team was winning. This one's for you, Bearsie.
To Jamin, whose art fills my website and lifts my heart; Joel, who helped me understand the science that went into my world-building and never let me quit; Cindra, whose gift of a snowflake inspired me to believe.
This book would not have been possible without the influence of: Science Fiction author Heather Gladney and her boys Naga and Drin. My wonderful critique group, Tracy, Janet, Tina, Barbara K, Spring Rain, Ann, Susan, and Bonnie. My terrific editors at LSB. And of course, Raven, who gave me a chance. Cyber hugs!
Chapter One
Tarthian Empire
Kelthia, Miraj City, Crooktown District
Wintresq, 4662 Tradestandard date
Sheathed in black, Senth molded his body into the shadows near a brick wall. He glanced both ways. The human and feline Kin gangs in Crooktown hunted mixed breeds. At first glance, he appeared human, but with his catlike eyes and fangs, no one could miss his feral nature.
He tugged his hood forward, concealing his eyes from the moonlight.
“Ffffftt this kkkhh!” The Kin cusswords hissed past his fangs. Where are you? Pressed against the wall, he crept around a corner and into the alley.
Three heartbeats passed before Senth slid into the concealing darkness behind a barrel. Several beats more and he lifted his head to stare into the rubble-strewn alley. Senth's HalfKin nose caught the scent of his quarry before he saw him. Night sensitive eyes narrowed.
Senth's human half-brother leaned against the opposite wall, silent and unaware of his presence. Khyffen's blond hair shone faintly in the muted light. A human female pinned him, arms around his neck, kissing him. She tore open Khyff's shirt and ran her hands over his chest, then went to her knees in front of him. Khyff opened his pants.
Yechh. Senth slid down the brick wall, folding himself into the tight space behind another barrel to guard his brother's back. Do you have to get your cock out now? If either of those gangs come down here … he leaned out and peered toward his brother. Khyff's fists were clenched, his eyes squeezed shut, face lifted to the night sky, and mouth open in a silent scream. Hurry up, bro. He rubbed the back of his gloved hand across his brow. Man, if I had to worry about a perpetual hard-on I'd never get anything done. We've gotta get you off that drug. The drug Senth's master gave him had the opposite effect.
From down the street, the faint sound of a gang chant carried in the chill night air.
Oh, kkkhh, they're close.
The voices grew louder.
Don't come down here. I get into one more fight my master will take skin off me.
The whine of a hovercar's engine brought music and female voices. Male voices mixed with laughter, then the sound of doors opening and closing. The car's hum faded as it drove away, leaving silence.
Senth thunked his head back against the wall and blew out the breath he'd been holding. Khyff! Hurry up!
Khyff and the woman walked over and stopped right in front of Senth's barrel. Careful not to let reflected light make his eyes glow, Senth leaned back and rested his gloved hands atop his drawn up knees.
The woman surprised him. Blonde and beautiful, she was forty at least and, judging by the material of her jacket and pants, quite rich. Yet there was something different about her. Senth lowered his brows and squinted.
Women like her didn't come to Crooktown. Not to mention hire a slake. She didn't look like the type who had to pay for men. Surely she knew what Khyff was.
“Let's meet again in three days,” the blonde said. “Someplace quieter.”
“Safer, you mean.” Khyff tilted his head. “You like it on the street, up against the wall in an alley. You like danger. You want it. That's why you come to me.”
The woman threw both arms around Khyff's neck and kissed him. “You're so right, you beautiful male.”
“You've had enough for one night.” Khyff shook off her embrace and tossed his head.
She reached for him again.
“I said no, Liu. Go home. You don't belong here.”
“Take this.” The woman held a silver debit bracelet on the tips of her outstretched fingers, as if offering food to a dangerous animal. “It's a thousand draks. You can spend it anywhere.”
A thousand? The long leather coat and pants his brother wore only cost a fraction of that, and they were the best.
Khyff tucked a strand of blond hair behind one ear. “You've already paid me.”
Senth bit back a startled laugh. Khyff actually sounded as if he was turning it down.
“You made me happy tonight,” she said. “Come on, Khyff. Please? Think of it as a little extra tip.”
“No way. You know I can only take soft money. You think I want people knowing about us? You think I want your banker knowing you've got a slake in Crooktown?”
Ah. Senth smiled, understanding now. Khyff didn't want his prints in their possession, or his master finding out he was moonlighting.
“It's debit, not registered. Untraceable. Come on.” She jiggled the bracelet. “Let me do something for you. I want to.”
Khyff reached out, hesitated, and then took the bracelet. “You carried this kind of money here? Are you crazy? You could have been buzzed. There are thieves everywhere.”
Senth suppressed a snicker. Ain't that the truth.
She ran her hands over his chest. “You care about me?”
He moved her hands away. “You know I do.”
“Oh, Khyff,” she sighed.
“Oh, Liu.”
Oh, brother. Senth rolled his eyes.
When the woman exited the alley, Khyff's smile flicked off like a switch. He slid the bracelet into his pocket and patted it like an old friend.
Senth rose to his full height, level with his brother's shoulders. Khyff lunged at him, grabbed him by his coat front, then picked him up and slammed him against the brick wall. His raw, physical power rendered Senth immobile.
With a gasp of recognition, Khyff set him back on the ground. “Sen?” He shoved back the cloak's hood. “You deadlurking me, man?”
Senth dusted himself off. “I cozied your back, bro. Peak-freaks out there, sniffin' out drugs and buzzin' clinkers. Didn't want them shoppin' you.”
“Don't ever cop on me in the dark. Especially if I'm hostin'.”
Senth held up both hands. “Sorry I rode your pocket.”
“Nah.” He slid his fingers back through his hair. “Junk me, bro. You comin' out of the dark like that. I know you didn't peep me.”
Senth grinned. “Which time was that, bro?”
Khyff's eyes narrowed. He jerked a thumb in the
general direction of the street and started walking. Senth fell into step beside him. No shops were open at this hour, all the windows and doors barred. Clouds had moved in to cover Kelthia's single moon. The streetlights that hadn't been smashed were too dim to cast decent shadows.
“Why you cozy, Sen? No life?”
“Got a rompin' life, bro. Just cozied your back 'cause you're blood. 'Sides, goin' sly a few days. Wanted to tap you first.”
The two brushed their fists together in a quick greeting, as close as Khyff got to shaking hands. Khyff raked a hand through his hair. “What you sly for?”
“I got a pull. Master wants me facing with a buyer tonight.”
“Where?”
“The Ghost.” The worst club in the red light heart of Crooktown, it butted right up against the slakehouse that owned Khyff.
His brother snorted. “I sure you boastin' me.”
“I ain't, bro.” He handed him a piece of paper with “Ghost” written on it. “Scope this.”
He halted in the middle of the sidewalk and tore the paper into pieces.
Senth grabbed him, but the body under all that butter-soft leather might as well have been iron.
Khyff planted both hands on Senth's chest and shoved. Paper remnants fluttered to the ground. Senth danced backwards to keep from falling.
“I told you!” Khyff raised balled fists. “I told you, no one touches me! Not you. Not anybody.”
“Sorry, bro.”
“I mean it, Sen. Nobody! You back off!”
Senth put up both hands and ducked. “I didn't mean to, Khyff. I'm sorry. It won't happen again.”
“It better not. And stay out of the Ghost.”
“Can't do that. He wants me there.” Senth didn't say his master's name. No one did.
“Why?” The word came out a plea.
“You think I'm gonna ask him why he does anything?”
“The Ghost is no place for kids.”
“I'm a legal adult! If I were free, I'd be old enough to join the armada and vote, so stop calling me a kid.”
Khyff turned on his heels and started walking.
Senth growled low in his throat, but followed. “Why'd you … you know? Back there. I thought you hated doing that.”
“I do.”
“Then why?”
“Look, it's different when you're not forced. Besides, the money's easy, the tips are great, and on the street, I decide how much of my clothes I take off.” He pulled the bracelet out of his jacket. “Here. You know where to put this.”
The freedom savings account entitled to slaves. Like all children enslaved by age five, Senth would be freed at twenty, in two years, but Khyff's time in prison and parole delayed his freedom for at least eight more years. Or until he had enough money to buy himself.
Senth stuffed the bracelet in a pocket. “You keep getting tips like this, you can buy me, too. She must like you.”
Khyff snapped him a look, then chuckled. “Guess Liu does look female.”
Senth felt his face flame. “That was a guy?”
“That was a Chiasma. An Androg. Fully male and fully female. Never seen one that close before?”
“I thought she seemed different.”
“Liu's beautiful, huh?” Khyff leaned a little closer, as if sharing a secret. “They always are, no matter which gender phase they're in at the time. And there've been a lot of them at the clubs lately. Liu's fascinated with humans. Drogs can't imagine what it's like being one gender all the time. They switch every quarter. I make good money catering to them.”
“Does it matter to you which phase they're in?”
Khyff made a noise halfway between a grunt and a sigh. “Like slakes ever get to pick the menu.”
Senth contemplated that for a moment before asking, “Is it true Androgs can make you feel what they're feeling?”
“Sure, when they want to. I'm guessing that's never going to be in an alley.” With an abrupt laugh, he punched Senth in the arm. “Come on, bro, let's get you over to the Ghost. It's time to put you to work for a while.”
* * * *
Khyff flashed his work ID for the bouncer at the Ghost, and she nodded approval for entry. She let Senth in when he gave his master's handsign, but she looked askance at him anyway. Inside, music pulsed like a living entity.
The throbbing bass tickled Senth's chest, and he coughed. Drums pounded. Colored lights swept the cavernous room. Strobes flashed across the congested dance floor, highlighting bobbing heads and upflung arms. Light glinted off human bodies slick with sweat. Bared Kin skinfur stuck out in points, laden with glitter.
“Stay close.” Khyff shouted over the pounding music, though he stood right next to Senth. “This isn't a safe place.”
Khyff headed for the rear and left no chance to argue. They skirted around the crammed dance area, and Senth liberated a few loose credit bracelets and stuffed them into his pockets.
He tried not to stare at the slakes along the wall, but their clothing and attitude declared their availability. He stopped to watch a pair of bare-ass male and female slakes bent over a low railing. Androgs handled their bodies like merchandise.
Khyff set a hand on Senth's shoulder, and nudged his chin toward the Androgs. “Comparison shoppers.”
Senth frowned up at him. “That's not funny.”
“Especially not when it's you hanging over the damned railing.” He jerked his head to one side. “Come on.”
Other than the Kin, no one wore leather clothing except Khyff. Kin had a proverb, “To wear an animal's skin, you must take its soul yourself”. No one challenged his brother.
Females ruled on the home planet Felidae and the majority who visited the Ghost had more than one male in her company.
A Kin female at the bar turned and looked Senth over from head to foot. Tall and slender, she wore brown leather the same color as her hair. Her tongue moved seductively across her sharp upper teeth, back and forth between her fangs. Her pretty feline nose wiggled and she twitched her ears toward Senth: a compliment and an invitation.
Khyff grabbed him. “Stay away from her! She'll take you to bed and then eat you for breakfast. And that's not a figure of speech. HalfKin who leave with her aren't seen again.”
The female crooked a finger at him. Senth turned and fled after Khyff.
Two female Betters conversed with each other, ignoring the human males chained to their wrists like pets. The men wore pants, boots, and chain harnesses across their chests.
Senth stared, not watching where he walked. Enhanced humans with every sense fine-tuned, Betters were bred for intelligence, leadership, beauty, and lust. Khyff had told him they went into heat like animals, and that once you'd had a Better in heat, you couldn't be satisfied with a normal human ever again. To curb potential problems, Betters were not permitted to hire slakes, or enter a slakehouse. Ever.
Senth walked into a solid wall of muscle, and backed up. “Nah kkkhh!” He flinched, ready to duck.
Khyff glared down at him, arms folded. “You better be glad it was me.” His brother grabbed him by the arm and shouldered through the throng with him in tow. “Quit gawkin', Sen.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You want talons in your eyes?”
The noise level lowered as they rounded a corner. To the left, wide marble stairs wound upward. Bouncers stood guard on the first landing, weapons cradled in their arms. Beside them, arrowed signs pointed in different directions: Hotel. Cashier Cage. Exit to Slakehouse.
Senth took one step up and felt a tug on his jacket. He turned and looked straight into Khyff's eyes.
“I can't go any further than this.” Khyff set one foot on the bottom stair. “There's only one place they'd let me go up there.” His glance moved left. “My master's here, by the way. I saw him when we came in.” Khyff moved his hand between himself and Senth, holding a wad of soft money. “Take this. He'll pat me down before he puts me to work.”
Senth slipped the cash into a pocket. For eighteen years, he hadn't know
n he even had family. In the tradestandard month since he'd discovered he had a human half-brother, he'd bargained everything short of his soul to buy Khyff's slave contract so they could be together. Leaving his brother, even for a few days, left a gaping, lonely hole in his heart.
“Please.” Khyff's misery-hardened eyes implored. “Stay safe. After all these years of not knowing you were even alive…”
“Hey!” He forced himself to focus on the job at hand. “You think you can shirk my cozy without a drip? Man, bro, your cover is for gloom.” He stuck up a thumb. “I got you happy.” You can't get rid of me that easy. No one watches your back better than I do.
Khyff grinned, shaking his head. “Go to work.” He turned and headed back to the crowded club.
On the hotel level, six men blocked the hallway Senth approached. He flashed his master's hand signal, and one of the men opened a door for him and then shut it behind him with a click. Background noise ceased.
The room had a high ceiling and subdued lighting. Heavy leather furniture, marble topped tables, no paintings, and two statues. Good pieces, Senth decided. Dense drapes, deep carpet. Without showing it, he studied the wood paneled walls. He noted the positions of the door and windows, judged the spacing of the panels, and knew someone had hidden a safe. No visible security, but he could feel it.
A door opened and, though Senth could not see his master, he felt the presence of the man known as the Harbinger. A native born Kelthian, Luc Saint-Cyr's dark skin and habitual black attire made it possible for him to merge completely into the shadows.
A man's hand gestured him closer.
“Sir.” Senth stepped forward and bowed. Like most people, he avoided looking directly into Luc Saint-Cyr's eyes. The man wore contact lenses that turned his entire eye black.
Raven's eyes, peering, intent. Predatory.
“With me, Senthys.” Saint-Cyr led him through the room to a hidden flight of stairs. He paused with one hand on the railing. “How much was it?”
Senth lifted his head. “Sir?”
“Khyffen's tip tonight. How much?”
Startled, he cast about in his mind for how his master knew.
“Of course I know what Khyffen's up to.” The Harbinger tucked a finger under Senth's chin and smiled down at him. “Nothing that affects my prize protégé escapes my attention. You're too important.” He started up the steps, and halted so quickly Senth bumped into him.
At the Mercy of Her Pleasure Page 1