by Amy Pennza
He rounded the front of the vehicle, and she tensed. Should she stand up? He answered that question by gripping her collar and jerking her out of her seat and into the dirt. His hold on her shirt was the only thing that kept her from falling on her face. She hadn’t even gotten her feet under her when he let her go. She hopped a few times to regain her footing. His men laughed, and her face burned.
He spun her around and thrust her against the vehicle’s hard metal side. A second later, he untied the ropes around her wrists and ankles, his fingernails scraping her skin. Pain shot through her limbs as the blood began to circulate. Before she could fully adjust to the pins and needles, he grabbed her collar again.
He dragged her through the jumble of people and parked vehicles. She struggled to match his pace, but he seemed determined to keep her off balance. Her boots skidded over the pebbles that littered the ground, and her neck burned where the coarse prison top pulled taut against her skin. What would happen, she wondered, if she fell? He’d probably just keep walking, pulling her behind him like luggage. Anger burned in the pit of her stomach. She would not give this asshole the satisfaction of seeing her in the dirt.
The crowd parted in front of him, and his men prowled on either side, occasionally shoving people out of the way when they failed to move in time. Nadia was so focused on staying upright, she caught only fleeting glimpses of the faces around her. Some people smirked; others looked away as soon as they saw her.
Several wore one sleeve pinned at the shoulder. Nadia knew if she touched the fabric, she’d find it empty. The Council had a way of making sure thieves didn’t get a second chance to steal.
There were few women. One sat cross-legged on the ground, a threadbare blanket covered in bits of glass spread before her. The colors were dazzling, especially after hours spent staring at unrelieved brown.
She smacked into something hard. Axos. She recoiled, expecting him to round on her, but he just tugged her toward a crude wooden platform. Although small, it stood at least five feet off the ground. Axos jerked her toward a short, bald man leaning against a set of steps attached to the side. He straightened as soon as he spotted them.
“Axos!” He extended his arms toward the giant. “What have you brought me?”
“Fresh meat.” Axos pulled Nadia roughly in front of him. “Newly arrived. We saw her descent just before dawn and got her a few hours after she landed. Got the pod too.”
The little man’s dull brown gaze roved up and down her body. She felt the blood drain from her face, and her skin crawled.
He smiled, revealing a prominent gap between his front teeth. “I have to say, Axos, you’ve got a good eye. This one will cause a bidding war. You mark my words.”
“How much?”
The little man stroked his chin. “Sixty percent.”
“Twenty.”
“Fifty-five.”
“Twenty.”
The little man splayed a fat-fingered hand on his chest. “Axos, you wound me. We’re both businessmen. We’ve dealt together for years, and now you’d rob me?”
Axos put a hand under her chin and wrenched her head up. She clenched her jaw to keep from turning her head to bite him. “Look at her, Dario. You know how much she’s worth. Twenty percent or I sell her myself.”
The little man’s smile disappeared. He stepped forward. His voice dropped. “Not in my market, you won’t.”
The two men stared each other down. Axos was more than twice the other man’s size, but she wasn’t so sure it would be an easy victory if things turned physical. There was something about the little man that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. A little thrill of hope flared within her. If they fought, she had a chance—however slim—of staying off that platform.
Just when it seemed things were about to devolve into bloodshed, Dario inclined his head and said, “Tell you what. You throw in the scrap from the pod, I’ll do it for twenty.” He stuck out his hand. “Deal?”
Axos stared at it for a moment and then clasped the stubby fingers. “Deal.” He sent Nadia forward with a shove to the small of her back.
She stumbled into Dario, who caught her in a surprisingly strong grip. “Now, my dear,” he said, “let’s get you ready for display. We want buyers to see what they’re paying for, don’t we?” He extended an arm toward the steps, indicating she should precede him.
Display? She shook her head. Oh, hell no. Her resolve to stay calm vanished. She shoved against Dario. The little man’s hold slipped, and he staggered back, his eyes wide.
She threw out her hands. “Don’t touch me, or I’ll—”
An arm clamped around her waist, and a cold blade touched her throat. “You’ll what?” Axos growled in her ear. His body was like a brick wall against her back.
She swallowed. Kaptum bit into her skin, and she winced. A warm trickle slid down her neck. Not sweat. Blood. She took small sips of air, terrified to breathe.
“Lost your tongue?” he asked. He released her, only to grab her arm and spin her around. He put his face in hers. “I can make that happen. Remember?”
He held the flat of the knife against her cheek. Was he going to burn her? Kaptum could do that. Her chest heaved as she waited for pain to shoot through her face. She whimpered.
“I asked you a question.”
Had he? Her brain felt like an old piece of machinery, clunky and slow. The knife shone at the edge of her vision. Her throat thick, she said, “I—I don’t…”
“You want me to cut out your tongue?” He pressed the tip of the blade to the corner of her eye. “Or maybe an eye?”
She knew the answer to that. Yes she did. “No.”
He lowered the knife. “Good. Now get up there.”
She dropped her gaze to the knife, which gleamed in his hand. Her professor’s words sounded in her head. The better part of valor is discretion. Would he really cut out her tongue? She wasn’t about to test him. A hand touched her shoulder. She turned to a waiting Dario.
“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the platform.
How nice. Like he was asking her to tea. What a courteous slave auctioneer. Wild, panicked laughter bubbled up in her chest. She was losing her mind.
With a final glance at Axos, who watched them with his arms crossed over his massive chest, she walked up the steps and onto the platform. It was empty, except for a large pole embedded in the center. From the top hung a long, black chain. A pair of manacles dangled from the end and bounced gently against the pole as the wind picked up.
She did an about-face. “This isn’t necessary,” she told the little man. “I’ll work. I—I’ll do whatever work I’m assigned, but I’m not going to let you chain me up here.” She started to push past him, but Axos appeared on the top step, knife in hand.
“Go stand with your back to the pole. Slave.”
Nadia raised her chin. She just couldn’t walk docilely to that pole and let them sell her. “I’m not a slave. I’m a prisoner, just like you. This is barbaric, not to mention unnecessary. I said I’d work. I knew I’d have to work in the mines when I learned my sentence.”
Dario clutched his belly, which jiggled with mirth. “Mines!” He wiped at his eyes. He stopped laughing. In a blink, his round face turned serious. “Right.”
She glanced between the two men, then down at the ground in front of the platform, where a crowd had begun to form. The few women she’d seen had either disappeared or hung back, because there were only men in the gathering of ragged-looking prisoners. Weather-beaten faces stared up at her, some curious, some assessing. More than a few looked her over with an expression that sent chills down her spine. Their eyes gleamed with…not malice. It was more like anticipation that bordered on hunger.
The manacles clinked against the pole again, the sound cutting through the murmurs of the men below. She remembered what Spencer had told her on the transport deck. “You’ve got certain…assets you can take advantage of.”
She spun on her heel. Blood roared
in her ears. She ran to the edge of the platform. Her legs burned. She prepared to leap off the side.
Hard hands bit into her shoulders, and she screamed in rage and frustration as Axos manhandled her back to the platform’s center.
He slammed her against the pole, and stars burst behind her eyelids as her head smacked the wood. Dimly, she heard the crowd begin to cheer. Her vision blurred, but she fought him as he wrenched her arms above her head and locked the manacles around her wrists.
Dario stood back, his hands on his hips. “Hoist her higher, Axos! That’ll stop her kicking.”
Dodging her flailing legs, the giant grasped the chain and pulled it down sharply. Nadia lifted onto her tiptoes, swaying to keep her balance. The men in the crowd cheered louder as she twisted desperately, trying to relieve the pressure on her arms and shoulders. Axos stepped back, panting.
Dario faced the crowd and opened his arms. “Well? Do you want to see what you’re bidding on?”
The crowd erupted.
The little man nodded to Axos, who seized two handfuls of her prison top and ripped it away from her body, the coarse fabric parting easily. Nadia’s cheeks flooded with warmth. Her heart pounded with fear and rage.
The police droid that had supervised her processing after her arrest hadn’t issued her undergarments, so her breasts and stomach were left bare. Below the platform, the men hooted and whooped.
Putting all her weight on her wrists, she brought her legs to her chest and kicked Axos with both feet. He absorbed the impact with barely a grunt, then captured both of her ankles in one large hand. With his other, he dragged her loose prison pants down her legs, leaving her totally nude.
The men on the ground went wild.
4
Ivar Holok watched the auction from the edge of the crowd. All around him, men cheered and laughed as the woman on the platform twisted and fought to free herself from the manacles.
Ivar could have told her that was pointless. He knew they were reinforced with kaptum. Dario might look like he was short on brains, but he was a savvy businessman. He took no chances with his merchandise.
And this female was a prime specimen. Taller than average, she had long, lithe legs that flared into gently curving hips. Her full breasts were proud and high, her small nipples a becoming rose color. His cocked twitched as he watched her breasts bounce with her movements.
Dario faced the crowd as he rattled off the woman’s attributes. An appreciative murmur ran through the assembled men when she aimed a kick at his ass, her booted foot nearly connecting with her target. She threw her head back and screamed.
Ivar winced. Healthy lungs.
“Better watch out, Dario!” a man near the front called. “If looks could kill, you’d be a dead man already!”
The merchant gestured to Axos, who grabbed her legs and jerked off her boots and socks. He sailed the boots one by one into the crowd, followed by the pants that had puddled around her ankles. One man brandished them in the air like a trophy.
Now fully divested of her clothing, the woman gazed across the crowd, her eyes searching and desperate. Her long red hair had fallen over her shoulder in her struggle with Axos, and one dusky pink nipple peeked through the bright strands. The sleek muscles of her legs flexed continuously as she struggled to remain on her toes. Even after such a short time on the pole, Ivar knew her arms had to be on fire from bearing almost her full body weight.
Dario sidled up to her and swept her hair away from her breasts. “As you can see, gentlemen, this one is hot as flame!” He moved his hand to her flat belly, then slid it lower and cupped her bare sex. “As to whether she’s a natural redhead, you’ll just have to take my word for it!”
The woman jerked away from his touch, giving the men a look at her shapely ass as she twisted sideways. Her chest was a mottled red, and her breasts heaved as though she’d just run a long distance. Ivar discreetly adjusted himself.
He looked out over the crowd, which had swelled with the nude woman displayed on the platform. She raised up higher on her toes, her small, delicate features twisted in obvious pain. Dario attempted to pry her lips apart to show the men her teeth. She snapped at his hand, and he danced back. The crowd guffawed.
Ivar narrowed his gaze. She didn’t lack for courage. Most women would be weeping and begging for mercy by now. Most men too. But she kept her head high as she looked over the leering, boisterous crowd.
Her gaze connected with Ivar’s, and it was like a punch in the gut. He sucked in a breath. It was impossible to see her eyes clearly from where he stood, but he couldn’t look away. It was as though she held him captive with her stare. He crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at her, then watched, astonished, as her chin rose a notch higher.
“It’s a shame such beauty fell into Dario’s hands,” Porter said next to him, ending the unsettling moment. “He’ll sell her to the highest bidder without a second thought.”
Ivar looked at his second-in-command and grunted. “That’s the way auctions generally work.”
Porter gestured with his chin toward the other side of the crowd. “Not this one. Not with him here.”
Ivar followed the direction of his gaze. A small group of men strode to the edge of the crowd and began shoving their way to the platform. Their leader punched a man in the back of the head, making him crumple to the ground and then kicked him out of the way and kept moving. The crowd immediately parted. The leader swaggered toward the platform, his long black hair loose over his shoulders.
Dario’s face split in a broad smile that didn’t fool Ivar. The fat little merchant made his way down the steps, moving quickly despite his girth. “Raddoc! We are honored by your presence!” He bowed, his nose almost touching his knees.
Behind him, the woman stilled, her gaze now fixed on the huge man dressed all in black. The long column of her throat convulsed as she swallowed.
“How much?” Raddoc asked in a deep voice, his gaze never leaving the woman. One hand rested on a broadsword at his hip.
Dario wrung his hands. “Ah…well, we haven’t started the auction yet. If you wish to bid—”
“Five liters.” Raddoc snapped his fingers, and one of his men flung an old rucksack to the ground. It fell open on impact, revealing five canisters beaded with condensation.
The crowd gasped. The men closest to the canisters jostled each other as they tried to get a better look. One man crept close, his hand outstretched, only to be sent sprawling to the ground by another of Raddoc’s men.
“I do believe that’s a record bid,” Raddoc said, gesturing to the precious water.
Dario stared at the canisters, and Ivar could almost see the gears turning in his brain. In a blink, his expression changed from subservient to calculating. He glanced back at the naked woman. “It’s a princely sum, to be sure. But as you can see, this slave is fit for a king. Everyone should have a chance to bid—”
A meaty hand fastened around his throat. Raddoc lifted him off the ground, the muscles in his arm bunching. Dario’s legs flailed.
The merchant sputtered and coughed. “P-please.” His eyes bulged.
Raddoc paid him about as much attention as a gnat. Still clenching the merchant’s throat, he pivoted slowly, his black-eyed gaze falling on the crowd. “Who here can match my price?”
A tense silence fell over the crowd, the only sound Dario’s gurgling protests. All around, men lowered their eyes. A few turned and shouldered their way out of the gathering.
Ivar glanced at the platform and caught his breath. The woman was staring at him again. For the first time, she looked afraid. She sagged against the chains.
Raddoc pulled Dario forward until they were eye to eye. “Looks like I won your auction, fat man.” He opened his hand, and the merchant fell to the ground, his face an angry purple. His mouth gaped as he sucked in air. Raddoc snapped his fingers at one of his men and pointed to the platform. “Go fetch my new slave.”
Ivar uncrossed his arms. “Ten liters!�
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Nadia watched as heads jerked toward the warlord standing on the edge of the crowd. Up until now, he’d been so still, she’d wondered if she was imagining him. The only thing he’d seemed to move were his eyes, which occasionally roved down her body with a heat that made her cheeks burn until she was certain they were as red as her hair.
Even with the distance between them, she could tell his eyes were an unusual color—a pale, glowing gold that reminded her of the holo-vids she’d seen of lions that had once roamed Earth. His hair was shaved so close to his head it was impossible to tell the color, but everything else about him was golden, from his strange eyes to his tan skin.
He shouldered the men in front of him aside. Murmurs rippled through the crowd as he and another man moved toward the platform, their pace unhurried.
Raddoc scowled and put his hand on his sword hilt. “The auction’s over, Ivar,” he growled. “The slave is mine.” The wind caught at his long mane of hair, sending the lank black strands whipping around his shoulders. At first, she’d thought his face was dirty, then she’d realized it was tattooed with strange swirling symbols a few shades darker than his skin. His men bore the same markings, although none had his monstrous teeth, which were filed to sharp points.
When he’d grinned at her, she’d felt truly hopeless for the first time since the head magistrate had read her sentence back on the starship. Until that moment, she’d thought that being stripped naked and chained to the pole was the worst thing that could happen to her. Then the black-haired warlord had flashed his razor-sharp smile, and she’d nearly given in to the blackness that beckoned at the edges of her mind.
For some reason, she’d sought out the golden warlord on the edge of the crowd. Their eyes had locked, and he’d stepped forward just as she’d begun to slump into a faint.
Now he and his companion had reached the space in front of the platform where Raddoc stood surrounded by his men. The golden-eyed man stepped deliberately over the canisters and stood over a still-gasping Dario. He gave the little merchant a considering look, then lifted hard eyes to Raddoc.