Claimed By The Warrior

by Roxie Ray

  “Can you be a little more specific?”

  “I wish I could. But right now, that's all I can tell you based on the information I've been given.”

  “Seems like a needle in a haystack to me, but okay,” she said. “I'll let you know if I find anything. By the way... what's your real name?”

  I hesitated, and then decided it was too late to start withholding information about myself from her now. If I wanted her to trust me, I'd have to give her a reason. “Surge.”

  She snickered. “'Surge?' Like a 'power surge,' or like the detergent?”

  I didn't know what she was talking about. Earthlings and their ridiculous humor. I'd encountered plenty of it at the Ruby Stronghold, thanks to Akzun's human bride, Carly, and her friends Miranda and Judy. “Just Surge.”

  “Okay, 'Surge.' Is there anything else?”

  I snuck a glance outside the cell and saw that many of the convicts were watching us. Some were whispering among themselves and pointing in our direction, clearly wondering what we were talking about.

  I decided to put a swift end to their speculations. The last thing we needed was people making up their own theories about us. Better to provide them with a simple, believable explanation from the outset.

  “Yes,” I replied. “As a matter of fact, there is.”

  I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close to me, kissing her passionately. Her breath was sweet and warm on my tongue, and the smell of her hair and skin made me feel like my blood was exploding in my veins. Now that I had her in my arms, I didn't want to let her go. I wanted to fold my wings around her and hold onto her forever.

  Still, I forced myself to release her after a few moments, even though it was like tearing off one of my own limbs.

  Her blue eyes were huge and filled with confusion. “What the hell was that for?”

  “I wouldn't want anyone to see how much time we'll be spending together and become suspicious,” I told her. “This way, they'll all think that as the new boss of the Sives, I've chosen to claim you as my consort.”

  “Right. Okay. Maybe a little warning next time, though, huh?”

  The shift alarm buzzed, and Paige walked out to report to the infirmary, casting a backward glance at me uncertainly.

  I went to my own cell, telling myself that the reason I've given her for the sudden kiss had been true.

  But deep down, I wasn't so sure.

  6

  Paige

  As one of the jailers – a hulking, musclebound Xehrulian named Qhugu – escorted me to the infirmary for my shift, I noticed that he wasn't watching me very closely. He simply lumbered along a few steps behind me, gazing out at the stars through the transparent outer wall of the station and pensively scratching his nether regions.

  Then again, the administrators rarely paid much attention to me. As far as they were concerned, I was a model inmate. I'd never stepped out of line, never broken any rules (or at least, none that they knew about, none that made their jobs any harder). They knew I belonged to the Sives, so they trusted that whatever I was doing, I was doing on their behalf... which meant it was best for them not to interfere. There were even times when they'd allowed me to walk around without an escort.

  True, there had been about a week after Sharon's escape during which I'd been scrutinized by Karaak and the jailers a bit more closely, since she'd been my cellmate. But once they'd decided I wasn't involved in the jailbreak, they went back to leaving me alone.

  All in all, despite the fact that I was trapped in this hellhole for life, I was smart enough to know that I still had it better than most of the other inmates did. I was safe from terraforming duty. I even had a purpose – saving lives in the clinic.

  So why did I agree to put all of that at risk for someone I'd only just met?

  How could I trust him? For all I knew, everything he'd told me was complete bullshit. He could have somehow found out about Sharon and her escape on his own, and decided to use that information to persuade me. Maybe Sharon had been recaptured or killed, along with Tetro.

  Maybe Surge (if that was even his real name) had his own agenda... one that had nothing to do with exposing the cruelties we endured on Karcerikus. Maybe he'd been lying about freeing me, and he intended to hang me out to dry the moment he got the chance.

  Yes. All of that was possible. Likely, even.

  But what if he was telling the truth? What if cooperating with him was my only real chance of ever getting out of this horrible place? How could I discount that?

  For maybe the hundredth time since I'd been brought to Karcerikus, I wished I knew more about the cultures and politics of the rest of the galaxy and its inhabitants. I'd gone from firm disbelief in UFOs and extraterrestrials to being imprisoned among them. I'd had to learn about the names and planets of all these alien races by collecting scraps of information from the inmates around me... and since they were all criminals, how could I be sure of what was true and what wasn't?

  The closest I'd come to really understanding them was learning enough about their physiological quirks to be able to treat their wounds and save their lives.

  So how could I be sure that anyone outside this prison wanted to put an end to the abuses here? Maybe every prison in the damn universe was run the exact same way. Maybe this was just the way things were for criminals and human slaves out here in the depths of space.

  From what Umel and some of the others had said in front of me, I knew that the Valkredians and Manaeans had fought a long and bloody war against each other, and then joined forces to fight a group of renegades. For all I knew, I was being swept up in some new conflict that was far beyond my understanding, and Surge was using my ignorance for his own ends.

  I remembered how suspicious Sharon had been when Tetro first offered to help her. At first, she'd been wholly convinced that his motives couldn't possibly be in her interests – that he was toying with her, or using her somehow. But when she had put her misgivings aside, everything he'd told her turned out to be true after all, and they'd blown out of this fucking pit of violence and misery together.

  Even as I weighed these options and possibilities – trying to cling to the logical arguments on both sides – I knew that I was being swayed by something far more primal:

  His eyes.

  The way they smoldered when they looked at me.

  I'd seen plenty of men look at me with desire before... especially in Karcerikus, where it seemed like almost every male inmate licked his lips and made other suggestive gestures whenever I passed by. It was creepy and gross, but once I came to understand that they'd all leave me alone as long as I was under the protection of the Sives, I’d tried my best to ignore it.

  But the way Surge looked at me seemed more like hunger than lust. Like there was some part of him that wanted to utterly consume me. Not just my blood (I'd seen that look in the eyes of lots of Valkredians here too), but my body and soul. As though he'd been searching for me his entire life, and finally found me.

  And the way he'd kissed me…

  Feeling his lips pressed against mine made me feel like a flock of ravens had suddenly taken flight inside me, their beautiful black wings beating and soaring in every part of my being. I'd never experienced anything like that before. The power that radiated from him was palpable.

  Maybe that's why he's called “Surge,” I thought, suppressing a giggle. I risked a glance over my shoulder, but Qhugu was still moseying along and picking at himself obliviously.

  I stepped into the infirmary, resolving to go along with Surge... at least until he gave me some reason not to. Maybe trusting my instincts was stupid, but they were too strong for me to ignore. Besides, any chance to leave Karcerikus was one I had to take.

  I peered into Healer Lozar's office. Sure enough, he'd started his bingeing early today – he was snoring face-down, and there were crusty yellow smears of fake plasma around his mouth. Powdery green flecks of rax were scattered across the files and forms piled on his desk. From the look o
f things, he'd be unconscious for the next hour or two.

  Which was definitely for the best. I had too much on my mind already to put up with his incoherent cursing and slurring.

  There weren't any new patients to be seen, which was no surprise. The work shifts had only just started. Soon, the waiting room would be filled with inmates who'd been injured in the machine stop, or during terraforming duty... and there'd probably be four or five new casualties from terra-pod accidents.

  So, the first order of business was to catalog the remains of yesterday's casualties prior to disposal.

  Ordinarily, this would only take a few minutes. But since this time, I'd be searching the bodies for clues, I figured it'd take longer than usual.

  I stepped into the morgue section of the infirmary, where the corpses were lying side by side on their hovering gurneys. I hated being in this room. On Earth, dead people were stored in refrigerated rooms to prevent decomposition – but on Karcerikus, the room was normal temperature. Instead, the air was treated with some strange chemical that more effectively preserved the bodies.

  It made the air around me feel and taste thicker somehow... almost gelatinous, like my skin and tongue were coated with petroleum jelly and I was floating through the room instead of walking. The effect was extremely disorienting.

  There were three corpses: A Manaean, a Kroteian, and a human.

  I stifled another nervous laugh. It almost seemed like the setup to a joke, didn't it? “A Manaean, a Kroteian, and a human walk into a doctor's office...”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again, trying to get a grip on myself. I was just under a lot of pressure, that was all. And the heaviness of the morgue air was getting to me. I needed to focus.

  So. First, the Manaean.

  The most obvious injury he'd sustained was that his left arm had been torn off at the shoulder during the terra-pod crash. There were plenty of other lacerations on his body which would ultimately have killed him, but since Manaeans had major arteries running through their left arms, he probably bled out from that wound in under two minutes. No big mystery there. I made a note of his date of birth, then moved on to the Kroteian.

  Except that he was barely recognizable as a Kroteian anymore. He still had all his limbs, but he'd been so badly burned in his terra-pod crash that his entire body was blackened, his flesh melted into a series of charred lumps and craters. Whatever injuries he'd sustained, they'd no doubt been immediately cauterized by the fire during the wreck.

  Okay, then. I jotted down his date of birth, too, and then stepped over to look at the human.

  Male. Mid-thirties, based on his file. Blond hair. Brown eyes. Both legs had been ripped off in the accident, probably by sharp metal edges from the terra-pod's hull, causing the femoral arteries to pump out the body's entire blood supply in less time than it would take to...

  Wait a minute.

  I stepped back, looking at all three of the gurneys at once and frowning.

  Three prisoners. All killed in terra-pod crashes. But only one of them had sustained injuries due to fire. The other two had essentially been shredded – they'd bled to death, and there wasn't a single burn on them. Not so much as a smudge of ash on their skin.

  Possible? Maybe. But the odds were against it.

  From what little I knew about the terra-pods, they were powered by fuel cells that were extremely flammable. I was sure there were rare instances when the fuel cells didn't go off on impact, but two out of three? On the same day?

  “You're being rather thorough with your examinations today, aren't you?”

  I jumped at the deep, echoing voice behind me, whirling around. Karaak was standing in the doorway of the morgue, his dark lips pulled back in a predatory smile that revealed rows of teeth like razors. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, and his head was tilted in curiosity as though he were studying a mildly interesting specimen under a microscope.

  “Um, yes,” I stammered, trying to avoid looking into his eyes. The hellish yellow glow that emanated from them made me feel strangely naked. “Sorry, I, uh – guess I got a little distracted.”

  “I hardly see why you would.” He glided toward me, the hem of his black robes barely seeming to touch the floor. The closer he got, the thicker the air in the room felt. Darker, too... as though he were somehow sucking out all the light, collecting it, consuming it.

  “These are simply lifeless vessels,” he went on. “Empty husks to be recorded for our files, and then tossed away and forgotten. Certainly not worthy of any deeper interest or attention. Then again, from what I understand, you Earthlings tend to have a morbid fascination with death. You'll have to pardon me for not sharing such interests... my own race, the Lunians, are effectively immortal, so we don't generally concern ourselves with these things.”

  I was starting to get lightheaded. The closer he came to me, the more I felt like the breath was being pulled from my lungs. My thoughts were jumbled, sliding and tumbling over each other like a deck of cards that had been dropped.

  Was that because he was inside my head, shuffling through my brain to see if I had some ulterior motive for examining the corpses so thoroughly?

  I straightened up and squared my shoulders to bolster my own confidence. I tried to maintain my concentration, to keep my mind closed off from him. Whether Surge had told me the truth or not, if Karaak found out that I'd agreed to help him, there was no telling what he'd do to me. I could be scheduled for a dangerous terraforming shift, or locked in the seg cells.

  Or worse.

  The air around him seemed to be boiling with malice. His essence filled the entire room until I felt like I was smothering and drowning in the folds of his robes.

  “You're right, of course,” I said. My voice was feeble from lack of oxygen, but I tried to keep my tone even so he wouldn't know how frightened and anxious I was in his presence. “I was just finishing up anyway.”

  “Excellent,” he said, his face inches away from mine... or did it just feel that way? Was he still standing in the doorway?

  My mind was so clouded that I could barely even see straight. The longer Karaak stayed in the room, the more it felt like he was the air, and I was being poisoned by his noxious evil every time I inhaled. He was inside of me, polluting me.

  “Surely there must be living patients for you to attend to.” His voice seemed to be miles away and directly in my ear, all at once. “You should see to them. Unless you have lost interest in your clinical duties, and would prefer a different assignment? A terraforming shift to break up the monotony?”

  “No, thank you.” I barely recognized the sound of my own voice – high and breathy, as though I were a little girl again.

  “Splendid.” His breath was tickling my earlobe, chilly and musty and tinged with decay, like the first whiff of an ancient coffin that had been exhumed. “In that case, I shall leave you to your duties... for now. Going forward, however, I would strongly suggest that you stick to your standard cursory examinations of the terraforming casualties. I would hate to have occasion to interrupt my own rather important duties for another visit like this one.”

  I blinked... and suddenly, I was alone in the room again.

  My lungs filled with air once more, and I realized my hands were shaking violently. I took several deep breaths to try to get them under control. Otherwise, I wouldn't be in any position to help the patients when they did come in.

  Had Karaak even been here in person, or had he just invaded my mind from the comfort of his office? How much of what was in my head had he actually been able to access?

  Was my collaboration with Surge doomed before it even started?

  I had no way of knowing.

  I spent the rest of the day treating the usual injuries, and doing my best to avoid Lozar whenever he decided to stagger out of his office to steal more plasma or mumble some half-assed diagnosis. When the alarm blared at the end of the shift, I returned to unit seven, escorted by Qhugu once more.

  Exc
ept this time, it seemed like he was watching me more closely.

  Or maybe my encounter with Karaak had just made me paranoid.

  I found myself wanting to talk to Surge again – and not just to report on my findings. Some part of me hoped that he would give me some new reason to trust him, to believe that we could actually pull off this scheme of his without drawing Karaak's attention. Maybe just being in Surge's presence would give me some level of comfort and reassurance, since he seemed so commanding and sure of himself.

  I hoped so, anyway.

  But when I arrived in unit seven, I saw that Surge was surrounded by Sives who were eagerly discussing new plans to bring in rax and contraband. I tried to make eye contact with Surge, to let him know I wanted to speak with him – but when his eyes did meet mine, he shook his head almost imperceptibly, letting me know it wasn't a good time to interrupt his consultations.

  Damn.

  I knew that if what he'd told me was true, it would be crucial for him to keep up appearances as the new Sive boss. Even so, I wished he could detach himself from them long enough to come to my cell, even for a moment or two.

  Or maybe I was just hoping he would kiss me again. Maybe that was the comfort I was looking for.

  It was a bizarre thing for me to hope for, and I knew it. Even before I'd been abducted, it had been so long since I'd experienced any physical affection – and ever since I'd arrived here, my day-to-day life had been so cold and brutal that I'd practically forgotten what it was like to be touched in any way that didn't involve the potential for violence or humiliation.

  But even knowing all that, I couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of his lips pressed against mine, the electric shock that had spread through my body at his touch. I couldn’t help but want to feel that again.

  On the other side of the cell block, I noticed that Suzanne was surrounded by other inmates as well. As I passed by the crowd, one of them – a Drekkir whose life I'd saved after he'd been attacked by a bunch of Carnage Riders in the machine shop – chirped, “Hey, Paige! Did you hear? Suzanne's terra-pod actually crashed on the surface of the moon today...and she managed to get it working again and fly it back to the prison! Can you believe it?”