by Leia Gray
Scratch that.
I can, but I don’t want to.
The door hisses open and the huge red man enters again.
“End of the line, darling.” He presses a button on a remote and the metal bands around my wrists retract back into the chair. I immediately yank my arms free, rubbing the sore skin there.
I want to leap out of the chair and throw myself at him, get a good few hits in before he subdues me once more, but I’m too weak. Probably should have eaten the food they offered me. But what if it was drugged too?
“Come on, come on. We haven’t got all day.” He reaches out a hand to help me out, but I ignore him. I push off the arms of the chair and bring myself to a standing position. My legs are wobbly. I’ve lost track of time. How long have I been here? How long have I been out?
Panic continues to rise in my gut as the man advances on me. Two of his cronies file into the room behind him and grab me by the arms. I shriek and flail as much as I can, but it does no good. They’re just too strong.
Finally, they force me into a hooded cloak. My captor, clearly the leader of this operation, digs a shining necklace out of his pocket and uses it to fasten the cloak around my shoulders. If I didn’t know better, I would have said the necklace flashed an eerie pink color before he put it on.
The two cronies drag me from the room, their grip still iron on my arms. I try to make noise, but one of them covers my mouth with a rough hand.
“You’ll be quiet if you know what’s good for you,” one of them hisses in my ear. The fear of what’s to come keeps me quiet.
We’re walking down a long metal corridor, the only sounds our echoing footsteps. So this is it then. This is what it all comes down to. The horror of what’s to come fills my heart, and I can barely keep from hyperventilating.
Damn it all up, down, and sideways. Should have taken those self-defense classes when I had the chance.
When they finally deposit me in the holding room, I’m more tired than I knew was possible. It’s much more extravagant than the bare shuttle pod I rode here on. There are lavish couches, plush carpet, and even a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It contrasts sharply with the decrepit station outside. Must be some kind of building for the elite only. Must be quite the income disparity around here. Everything looks like it’s falling apart on the outside, and yet people still live like this? The thought of it makes me sick. The door seals once more, but at least there are some comforts to indulge in. I lay back against the plush cushions and stare at the soft swaying of the chandelier above. This doesn’t do much to quell the panic rising inside me though. It deepens when I hear the sound of arriving voices and doors opening and closing. The word auction is happily tossed around, confirming my fears. I hear laughter and the sound of ice rebounding off the sides of drink glasses like the bells of death. I sink down into my chair, trying to make myself as small as possible. But I can’t get away from here. That’s not how it works. I’m not going to pinch myself and suddenly wake up like it’s a dream. No, the nightmare is real. And I’ve got to deal with it one way or another.
It’s hard to tell how much time passes. I think it’s about an hour later when an attendant arrives. I can tell right away she’s not like the others. She’s younger, for one thing, and she’s wearing street clothes, unlike the rest of the staff holding me here. Maybe she’s a captive like me.
“I’m here to draw your bath,” she says softly. Her eyes stay trained on the ground, not daring to meet mine.
My heart goes out to her and my stomach clenches at the thought of what they’d be doing with such a young girl. She’s far too young to be auctioned... or is she? No, she seems to be helping as some sort of servant. Which is better than human trafficking, I suppose. Still not a great thing.
“What’s your name?” I speak softly so as not to startle her. She continues to study the floor, chewing her lip as if she’s unsure if she should say anything.
“It’s okay,” I offer. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m a captive, just like you.”
Her face softens a little at that and she finally meets my eyes. The young girl’s face is pale, streaked with tears, just like mine. Her eyes are an icy blue, so pale I can almost see through them. Her cheeks flush red with emotion.
“They got you too,” she says. It’s not a question. More a statement of fact.
“Yeah. They did.” I look down at my grimy hands, my knees, my feet. Maybe a bath would do me some good.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She leads me to bathroom and turns the knob on a huge claw foot tub.
Water pours from the faucet, splashing into the tub. Steam rises to the ceiling. I take a deep breath, the steam soothing, opening up my sinuses and making it feel a little more like home. The soap she squirts into the water has a subtle floral aroma and it wafts up my nose as bubbles begin to form in the water.
The tub is huge. It’s bigger than any I’ve seen before. It looks like it’s carved out of ivory, or maybe marble. It sets, freestanding, on a black tile floor, with four claw feet. “Your bath, Miss.”
I look at her and take her hands, small and soft. She gasps and flinches away.
“It’s okay,” I tell her again. “We’re people, with names. I’m Liana. What’s your name?”
Those full pink lips hang open for a moment before she speaks. It’s a quiet, tentative voice, but she’s speaking to me. And that’s progress. “Beth.”
“Alright, Beth. Thank you.”
I peel off my pageant dress, looking at it with disgust as it crumples to the floor.
And to think, only recently, winning the pageant had meant everything to me. Well, I did win. Look where got me.
Beth helps me into the tub and I feel another wave of shattering sobs threatening to come to the surface. I am alone. I’m trapped. And there are men outside the door, with their fancy suits and their fancy whiskey. They’re going to sell me to the highest bidder. Nobody cares what happens to me after that. And why would they? I’m nothing more than merchandise to them.
“Just do what they say,” Beth says as I lower myself into the tub.
Too bad that’s never been in my nature.
I let out a breath as the water surrounds me. It’s hot and steaming, and filled with fragrant bubbles that soothe my skin. At least this is nice and comfortable, a momentary luxury before I’m on the auction block. I push away that reality for now. It’s too much to deal with.
But as I lay there, awash in my thoughts and fears, I feel something deep down in my soul, the same kind of feeling that should’ve alerted me to the danger of the pageant, had I not been so blind. This time I don’t ignore it. I look closer.
It’s…some kind of spirit. A spirit that is mine. And it’s coming close. Normally, I would be scared. I have no idea who it is, or what it wants with me, but given the events of the last few days, my ability to be scared is all worn-out.
And the more I think about it, can whatever this new spirit has in store for me be any worse than what my captors are going to do?
I look a little closer and realize there’s a protectiveness in it, a sense of duty. Almost like the heroes that I used to read about in my books and watch on my e-comm. But that’s just fantasy. This is real life. Right?
I remember the dreams. I remember the man I saw the first time we passed through the space station. Those glowing amber eyes come back to haunt me again and I suck in a breath.
What if it’s him? What if we’re connected in some way?
Hell, given all the other crazy things that have happened, I guess it’s not too far out of the question.
A feeling of imminent joining passes through my soul. I can’t tell how I know it, but everything in my world is about to shift. Maybe for the worse, maybe for the better. But I just know I need to be ready when it turns.
10
Darvok
As soon as I touch down on Ecto, I know I’m in the right place. Finally, I’m going to catch him. No more running. No more hiding.
He’s here, and I’m hot on his trail. With the captive and staff he’s carrying, he won’t be able to escape me this time. And it’s a win-win: not only is Krevith nearby, so too is my missing ore. Bastard must have bought it off the dealer. Should have known.
My mind floats back to the captive. Yes, her. With the haunting eyes and the luscious curves, staring out the shuttle window into the distance, eyes hard with determination but also filled with hope, with imagination, with dignity.
I blink and shake my head. Keep your head in the game, Darvok. One false move and you’ll lose him all over again.
I couldn’t have that. Not this time.
Krevith chose the wrong station to set up shop in. The security here is minimal, even less so than in some of the other Waste stations I’ve been to.
“Getting sloppy, Krevith,” I mutter to myself as I crawl out of the shuttle, my hand on the weapon at my side. No one’s here to check my paperwork or credentials. None of the threat detection scanners that some of the larger space ports use. It’s wide open.
Either he really is getting sloppy, or he’s running out of friends to bum off of. For him to set up on this station when it’s so clearly on its last leg? It’s a far cry from his previous stomping grounds. The only traffic that comes through here is the occasional pirate. But then again, maybe that’s his target market.
I follow my senses until I can feel the vibration of the stone once more, and Krevith with it. I stop outside an old boarded up club. As soon as I step away, the signal fades. Yep, he’s definitely in there. And so is the stone. And so is she.
I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders and neck, preparing for whatever I might find inside.
Peering around a corner, I can see a couple guards pacing the entrance, complete with laser weapons and body armor.
So he’s not a complete idiot.
My gaze flickers over the landscape, looking for a diversion. I need to get the guards away from the door long enough to make my move.
That’s when I see my ticket out. The blue and purple trees flanking the line are a common nesting spot for mechanical birds. They are a strange, alien lifeform that has proliferated across the galaxy after a few science experiments gone awry.
And I know that they’re very easy to startle.
I crouch down and clasp one of the smooth stones from the lot in my hand. The lot is full of them; they won’t miss just one.
I glance over at the guards again and wait ’til they’re facing away from me. I wind up, aim, and throw the stone right at the tree.
The birds scatter in all directions, making a hell of a noise as they do so. Their screeching and cawing echoes through the dry air and that gets the guards’ attention immediately. When the birds start to swoop down in the direction of the boarded-up club, the guards are distracted enough that they don’t notice me coming out from my hiding spot.
They move away from the door, chasing off the birds. It’s time.
I leap up from behind the large boulder I was hiding behind and sprint toward the door as fast as I can. My heart is pumping in time with my breaths, and adrenaline courses through my veins. There’s something else, as well. I can’t get the thought of that woman out of my mind. And my body doesn’t want to forget her either—I’m half-hard just at the thought.
I grit my teeth, check the perimeter once more, and barge in through the door.
The door clatters on its hinges as it flies open, and I can’t help but wince at the sound. I’ve probably alerted every guard in a mile’s radius by now. But there’s no help for it. I’m close. I’ve got to get to Krevith, and I’ve got to get to the ore.
The girl is secondary.
Isn’t she?
I will myself to focus and hone in on the sense of the orb calling to me. I keep my hand on my weapon, at the ready, but I don’t see any other guards or any signs showing that I’ve broken in.
He really has let himself go. This is almost too easy.
I finally locate the source of the energy in a back room of the club. I keep on my guard and head over there as fast as I can, my hands sweating, my heart pumping. This is it.
When I get to the back room and peek through the window, I stop dead in my tracks. There she is. The woman.
She’s wearing my stone around her neck, and I’ve never seen a sadder, more beautiful woman.
11
Liana
I jump at the sound of metal scraping against metal. No, what did he have in store for me now?
I rouse from my exhausted fugue in time to see a crowbar and a large hand prying at the window latch.
A large purple hand.
When their owner hoists himself up and I see the man’s face for the first time, I know this can’t be a coincidence. It’s him. The man from my dreams.
But what was he doing here?
I open my mouth to scream when he leaps through the window and lands on his feet all too easily. He is huge, even bigger than I thought he was before.
Seven feet of towering purple muscle stand before me, and the only thing I can think at the moment is: wow, he’s handsome.
Get a grip, am I right?
He grabs me before I have a chance to react and holds me close, putting a rough hand over my mouth so I can’t make a sound.
I struggle against him, my scream muffled by his hand. His body is hard and warm against mine, holding me still. I couldn’t escape him if I tried. He’s far too strong.
“You’ll be silent, or you’ll get us killed,” his voice huffs next to my ear, and I’m surprised to find I can understand him. He certainly doesn’t look like any man I’ve ever seen, and he’s certainly not from my planet. But whether this is a kidnapping-within-a-kidnapping or a rescue, it has to be better than what that bastard has planned for me.
I shudder uncontrollably at the thought of being stripped naked, forced into chains, put on display for leering nobles and wealthy lords. My stomach churns and I let out a dry, heaving sob.
Just then, the necklace that Krevith used to fasten my cloak starts to glow. It’s faint at first, but then pulses stronger and brighter, filling the room with pink light. Without warning, the tall alien man grabs it and snaps the chain easily. My cloak falls from my shoulders and pools at my feet. He stares at the glowing, pulsing stone with a mixture of awe and fear, snapping his gaze up to me and then back to the rock.
Oh, so he’s a robber then. Not a rescuer.
Just my luck.
The rogue’s eyes are hard now, demanding. I can feel the heat of his gaze all over me, heating me without even a touch. I’m suddenly burning up inside and out, my skin crawling, my heart hammering. What is he doing to me?
“What have you done to it?” the rogue hisses, this time accusing. “Where is your planet of origin?”
“What are you...what?” My words tumble over themselves as I stare at this strange alien man. He’s built like a warrior, all hard muscle and hard angles. And yet the way he looks at that stone is like a child who’s lost their favorite toy.
The sound of a pneumatic door hisses from the hallway outside and I hear voices. A siren wails and the room flashes with red light. I hear the locking mechanism on my door click into place, and my stomach sinks.
The rogue shakes his head and lets out a stream of curses I can’t understand. Before I can react, he grabs me around my middle and hoists me over his shoulder like a bag of grain, leaping up to the window he’s pried open.
“Let me down!” I snap at him, wriggling in his iron grip.
“Do you want to die?” His voice is firm.
The alarm continues to blare above and the door shudders on its hinges. They’re right outside.
“No,” I say, and he jumps out the window, taking me with him.
12
Darvok
This wasn’t part of the plan.
None of this was.
Here I thought I’d finally tracked Krevith down. Here I thought I could retrieve the ore and restore my honor in one fel
l swoop.
Seems like the Tia aren’t done playing games with me yet.
As soon as I saw the human woman sitting there in her cell, wearing my ore around her neck, I knew I couldn’t leave her. She’s the one that’s been calling out to me all this time. She’s the one that’s been getting inside my mind.
I don’t know how she did it, and I don’t know what she has to do with Krevith and the Imala ore, but they’re all linked somehow, and I’m not going to stop before I figure it out.
The human is so soft in my arms, her flesh curvy and inviting in all the right places. Even if she complicates things, I couldn’t leave her to Krevith’s designs. I just couldn’t.
I run as fast as I can with her clinging to me. The Imala ore continues to pulse in a pale pink light, one I’ve never seen before. I’ve heard stories and rumors, sure, but never put much stock in them.
The Imala found its way to her. It calls out to her just like it does to me, like she’s one of my own. There has to be a reason.
I’m not typically in the business of rescuing, especially with the single-minded focus on bringing Krevith to justice. I tell myself I took her for more reason than just her alluring beauty and her distracting scent, but it’s only a half-truth. Even if I could have gotten past all that, there’s still the matter of how the ore reacts to her energy.
It’s like she activates it, somehow. Like we’re two halves of the same whole, and the stone knows it.
She’s different than the silver-eyed women of my people. Much different. She’s small, and her skin is so pale, so soft, so... human. Her body begs to be touched, begs to be in love. Are all humans like this?
The women of my kind have dwindled to only a few dozen, and they grant mates to only the highest warriors. I am one of those High Warriors, but the thought of them feeling like they’re required to mate with me turns my stomach. If I’m to mate with someone, I want it to be for love. An archaic ideal in this time, I suppose, but I could never get into any of the various women throwing themselves at me. It’s like they only wanted to be with me because they knew I was a powerful chieftain. They didn’t see who I was, and they didn’t care. They just knew I was a chieftain, and it would be an honor to mate with me, to bear my young. But there’s more to it than that.