by Raven Dark
“You have to be joking. Setora.”
The high, almost grating, unfamiliar voice made me look up. A few seats down from Serena, beside a pale-skinned lord in a black and gold robe, a Violet stared at me as if the ground had opened up around me.
Her mind didn’t just settle inside mine the way other Violets’ minds did. It crawled into it, dark and coiling like a snake. The buzzing in my head intensified so that it took all my effort to keep my face neutral. She blinked slowly, eyes so dark a violet they were almost black.
The way she said my name, as if it was infamous, made me shiver.
I wanted to ask if I knew her, but the heavy gold ornamentation on her wrists, neck, and in the plait of her hair told me she was First Slave to the lord at her side. Which meant, the most I could do was bow my head in the customary greeting.
The woman’s beautiful full lips quirked in a secretive smile. She didn’t return the bow.
The lack of courtesy shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. There was no obligation for higher slaves to return a bow, but everyone understood, when a Violet didn’t, it said exactly what she thought of you.
“Must you always play the shrew, Zara?” Her robed lord said with a low laugh, taking her hand.
When she whispered something to him I didn’t catch, he glanced at me and then back at her. “Care to share?”
“Savior,” she said to me. “Isn’t that what they call you?”
Oh, Maker, bury me now.
My masters looked at me at once, and so did everyone else. My face burned. The delighted way Zara watched made my fists tighten. I hid it by holding my hands in my lap.
What was I supposed to say? Nothing, I knew, and so did she.
It didn’t matter if I’d been able to think of a response, because the last of the guests arrived, taking four empty seats a little farther down the table from us.
The new arrivals were the same men I’d seen yesterday at dinner; Sinister and his dimple-cheeked twin whose name I still didn’t know, green-eyed, cranberry-haired Reaper, and one other.
Seating himself beside Reaper, the fourth man snagged my attention and held it fast. Those beautiful teal eyes. This man really was as big as Steel, but he looked even more heavily muscled than when I’d seen him upstairs. The thick hair on his face was gone, revealing harshly chiseled features, a face I never would have guessed was that handsome. He sat with a quiet intensity, even though he said nothing.
Beast.
He looked at no one, except when he leaned close to Sinister or Reaper, gesturing without a word. Something about him made me painfully curious.
“Eat your fill, all of you,” Lord Falnar boomed jovially. “There is enough food to feed a village tonight, and we have the finest wine to wash it down.” He winked at Pretty Boy, and the two of them raised freshly filled goblets.
For some reason, Zara kept casting dirty looks at Beast. The third time she did it, his lips pulled back, and I swore I heard a growl from him before he snatched up his knife, stabbed a large turkey leg, and slapped it onto his plate.
While the men conversed, two servants finished pouring the wine, coming to Sinister’s crew last. When one of them reached Beast, the servant’s sleeve brushed a glass goblet and sent it falling the floor. It shattered.
Beast grabbed the knife he’d used to take the turkey leg. His chair flew back, and he threw himself against the wall. He crouched there, his teal eyes fierce and vigilant. The knife in his huge fist gleamed.
Several guests around the table had jumped back, chairs scraping the floor. Lord Falnar stood sharply, his eyes uncommonly worried. I only half registered the pandemonium, or that I’d grabbed Sheriff’s hand. Sheriff stood and pulled me close, for reassurance or protection or both.
“Hey. Beast.” Sinister walked slowly toward him the way one might approach an angry bear. With his back to me, I could see the name of his club and its emblem on his cut, Brothers of Brimstone, with a flaming skull.
Beast’s grip on his knife tightened.
Sinister turned his head to look behind him. “Savage.” He gestured for his twin to help him, then turned back to his friend. His deep voice was a low croon. “Beast, buddy, look at me. Look at me.”
Beast huffed hard and his lips peeled back, baring teeth.
Savage moved slowly in beside his brother. He moved his hands, doing a series of those quick hand gestures I’d seen him do the previous night. Beast’s eyes fixed on him as if the movements hypnotized him.
“It’s just a broken glass,” Sinister said. The monotone way he spoke made it clear he was interpreting his brother’s gestures. “There’s no danger here.”
Beast’s chest still heaved fast and hard, but he didn’t look like he was trying to become part of the wall anymore, and at least he was making eye-contact with his crew.
Sinister continued to croon softly to him while Reaper walked slowly toward Beast from the side. Beast’s gaze shot to Reaper, and he stood up and turned to him. He had one fist protecting his face, the other holding the blade in a reverse grip, raised up toward Reaper.
From the chair beside me, Steel stood up slowly and approached him from the other side. With Beast’s focus on Reaper, he didn’t see my master.
In an instant, Steel had his arms around Beast from behind, caging him. He grabbed Beast’s wrist, keeping him from striking out with the knife, and pushed his arm up above his head. Beast growled and bucked against Steel, kicking out at Reaper, forcing Reaper back.
Hawk slipped between Beast and Reaper so fast I wasn’t sure where he’d even come from. Somehow avoiding Beast’s kicks, he grabbed his wrist, twisting the knife free and then tossed the blade aside.
Steel caged both of Beast’s arms now. “Maker’s tits, you’re strong,” Steel grunted.
Beast let out a tired rumble and looked like he was going to drop. Steel held him up until Sinister and Savage took him carefully under the arms.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” At the doors to the room, Sinister turned to Lord Falnar. “Please excuse the disruption, my Lord. We’ll be back down later.”
“Not at all, you take care of your man.”
He nodded, and with the exception of Reaper, the Brothers of Brimstone left, the twins escorting Beast out with reassuring pats on the back.
As soon as the doors closed, there was an almost audible collective sigh in the room, as if the walls themselves had let out a breath. We all returned to the table.
“I swear that man gets stronger every year.” Steel gave a shaky laugh and worked one shoulder. “What do you feed him, Reaper?”
I didn’t hear what Reaper said, because Sheriff squeezed my hand under the table, catching my attention. My heart was still racing.
“You all right?” he asked softly.
“Yes, Master.”
I was now.
Zara looked around the table. “Thank goodness that’s over. Such uncivilized behavior! Why allow someone like that to dine with us?”
Reaper gave her lord a filthy look but didn’t say a word. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Serena lean forward to look down the table at her. “Some people just don’t like slaves who speak out of turn.”
Everyone at the table chuckled, some of them snorting into their drinks. I couldn’t help smiling at Serena. Crazy she might be, but I liked her. Especially since I had a feeling I knew exactly what was wrong with Beast.
I caught Hawk’s eye to my left.
He leaned toward me. “Kitten?”
“That was good, what you and Steel did with Beast, Master.” I kept my voice equally low. “Getting the knife away from him like that.”
He squeezed my knee. I had a feeling Hawk wanted to say something, but it would have to wait until after dinner.
Dinner resumed, and the conversations continued around me. Lighthearted banter filled the room, and Lord Falnar entertained his guests with jokes he thought were much funnier than they were, along with stories of his conquests that seemed too
big to be true.
After dinner, the guests were invited once again for cigars and port. This time, I wanted to join them.
Once inside the spacious smoking room, I caught up with Hawk. “You know what’s wrong with Beast, don’t you?”
“Hmm.” He enclosed my hand in his.
“So do I.”
“I know you do, Kitten.” His voice was warm and filled with respect.
Hawk had what the Old World had called flash terrors, but his affected him only in sleep, when he had his nightmares. They came from living with a true monster, a father who murdered his mother and used Hawk as a punching bag.
“What happened to him, Master?” I asked softly, sitting at his feet when Sheriff nodded for me to do so instead of sitting with him.
“Things that should never happen to any man.” He rubbed my shoulders.
“His crew doesn’t know what happened to him?”
“Not most of it. Shh, Kitten. Time to play the role.”
Images of the Dreg camp and the horrors Utar and his Rebels had endured at the hands of the Dregs filled my head, and I leaned against Hawk, resting my cheek on his knee. I wished I could hug my warrior master and take away the pain I could feel him trying so hard to bury within himself.
While it made me glad that Beast had friends who cared about him, like Sinister, Savage, and Reaper, I didn’t want to think about what that man might have been through to make him like he was. And it hurt my heart to realize a truth about Hawk.
If not for the Yantu whose ways he’d adopted, and if not for Sheriff, Steel and Pretty Boy’s friendship, Hawk could have ended up just like him.
* * *
After less than an hour in the smoking room, I started to feel queasy, so Hawk scooped me up in his arms and took me up to his room.
“It’s probably the smoke making you sick, Kitten,” he said as he drew us a bath. “I’ll make you some tea with mint to settle your stomach. Undress and get in.”
I gladly did as I was told and sank into the water up to my neck. Hawk brought in tea and set it on the deck, undressed, and slipped into the water.
We drank our tea and then washed, rinsing the smoke out of our hair. Afterwards, he threw on a clean pair of leather pants and wrapped me in a fluffy bathrobe. Then he lit the candles he’d set on every shelf about the room, and a stick of incense that gave off a soothing sandalwood scent.
We sat cross-legged in front of each other on the floor and meditated for a long time. I had a feeling he needed the meditation just as much as I did this time.
Later, he took me twice, once on the floor and again in his bed.
The sex was loud and dirty and savage. He gripped my hair from behind and ate at my mouth, fucking me so soundly the bed rattled against the wall. Then he wrapped me in his arms and put my head on his shoulder.
“Are you feeling better, Kitten?” His voice was warm and throaty with fatigue.
“Yes, Master. I feel very…well used.”
He gave a husky laugh, one of those full laughs that were so rare it was like touching heaven. “Is that so?” His fingers made long trails down my back. “Did you enjoy your time with the women today?”
I nodded. “It was interesting. I’ve never seen a pregnant woman before.” I lifted my eyes to him. “She’s having three babies, did you know that?”
He raised a brow in surprise. “Isn’t that something.”
“I know. I’ve had such a great time here. I’ve never seen so many people from so many places before, not even with Damien.”
“We have a lot of allies, Kitten. From all over the world.”
“Why are all these people here?”
“There are some people, ones that govern zones the way we run the Grotto, who want the world to be a better place for its citizens. For everyone, not just those under their authority. They—we—want a united front, I guess you could say. But there are some people who don’t want the same thing. So we have to meet in secret.”
“How long have they been happening, these summits?”
“Every year for about twenty years. We’re starting to bring more zone leaders to our way of thinking, but it’s taken a long time.”
“Hmm. So you’re trying to help people who don’t have protection.”
“Yes.”
I hummed in approval and snuggled into him. I’d wanted to ask him more about the summit, but instead I yawned.
“Sleep now,” he murmured and gently slipped out of bed. “Dream good dreams.”
“Where are you going, Master?”
“I’ll be here. I’m going to practice the sword.”
Right, he never slept next to me.
I felt his lips brush my cheek. “Rest. I’ll take you to Sheriff’s room in a bit.”
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I must have, because the man with no face came into my garden. My Fortress turned to a sky of black with a burning sun.
Then it exploded in a ball of flame, seconds before I jerked awake.
The moment I woke up, I knew something was terribly wrong, and it had nothing to do with the faceless man.
Pain radiated in my stomach, low in my gut, a violent ache. It felt like the menstrual cramps I got for the first few days of my cycle. Except the pain intensified until I doubled over with a groan.
“Hawk…” I hissed, clutching my gut. “Hawk.”
Hawk was instantly at my side, taking my shoulder. “Setora?”
“My garden,” I groaned. “It was burning.” I clenched tight around myself. “It hurts.”
“What’s hurts?” He made me look at him.
Tears streamed down my face. “My stomach. Get Doc, Master. I need Doc now.”
* * *
Doc and The Four surrounded me within minutes. Pretty Boy, Sheriff, and Hawk stood near the foot of the bed, giving Doc room. Steel sat in a chair by the head of the bed. Doc pulled back the blankets and examined me with his usual professional stoicism while he talked.
“Where does it hurt, Setora?”
Laying on my side, I clutched my stomach and whined, trying to fold in on myself.
He tried to get me to lie flat across the bed, but I didn’t move. “You have to let me examine you, dear,” he soothed. “Lay flat on your back, okay?”
I panted. The pain was unbearable, but I laid on my back for him. He gently pressed on my stomach in several places. All of them hurt.
“All right. I’m gonna ask you some questions. Just breathe through the pain and try to answer them for me.”
I moaned an affirmation.
He pressed gently on my stomach, right below my ribs. “Does it hurt there?”
“No. No, it’s not my stomach, sir. It’s further down. It feels like menstrual cramps.”
He nodded and went to his medical bag on a nearby table. He took out a bottle of sanitizer and sprayed his hands, rubbing them together as he returned to me. He sat down on the bed at my feet, then bent my knees up and gently spread them, positioning my feet apart.
“All right, I’m going to have to give an internal exam to make sure everything’s okay in here.” He touched my pelvic area. “I’ll try to be quick, but you’re going to feel some pressure.”
I managed a nod. Steel squeezed my hand. Then a moment later, I felt Doc’s fingers probing and pressing inside me as he talked.
“Hmm,” he said slowly. “When did you start feeling bad? How have you been feeling the last few days?”
Before I could answer, his fingers hit a tender spot. I winced.
“Doc,” Pretty Boy said, “When we were on our way to dinner, she stumbled, like she was dizzy. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but…”
Doc glanced at the others as Hawk spoke up.
“Yeah, I had to take her away from the smoking room earlier. It was making her nauseous.”
“And she seemed a little off at breakfast this morning,” Sheriff put in.
Doc slid his fingers out of me and covered me with a blanket. “All
right, all done. You can relax now, Setora.” He went over to the table and washed his hands in the basin.
I curled up onto my side, in too much pain to do anything else. Steel still held my hand and now leaned over, stroking my forehead with his fingers.
After a few minutes of silence, Pretty Boy turned to Doc who was still scrubbing his hands. “Well, come on, Doc, don’t leave us hanging, what the hell is wrong with her?”
Doc dried his hands on a towel while he walked back over to the bed. “Have you four been making sure she takes her iris root every morning?”
Everyone nodded and answered that they had.
“I’m sure we didn’t forget,” Pretty Boy added, looking at me and then raising a brow at Doc beside him.
“Petal? Have you been taking that stuff every morning?”
I nodded, but had I? So much had happened on this trip, I couldn’t be sure.
“Whether she’s taken it or not…” Sheriff looked at him. “What are you thinking, Doc?”
Doc set the towel down. “I’m gonna give her something for the pain. Then I’ll explain as best I can.”
Doc put a pot on the hearth and quickly made some tea. I saw him put something in it from a small packet. While I sipped the hot brew, he seated himself beside me on the bed.
“Well, based on my examination and what everyone’s said...” He stopped, and I had the impression he was trying to find the words.
“Spit it out, Doc,” Steel said. “What’s going on?”
He looked at each of them, and then at me, then at Sheriff with a shrug. “I think she’s pregnant.”
Chapter 16
Fugue
A full minute must have passed with only the sound of my heart beating like a drum.
I looked at Steel, feeling his hand twitch in mine, but before I could read his expression, Pretty Boy broke the silence.
“Princess is gonna have our baby?” He wore a stunned expression before it turned into a huge grin.
When I looked back at Steel again, I saw the color drain from his face. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he was going to fall out of his chair and lose consciousness.