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Camron

Page 14

by Veronica Scott


  Brow furrowed, Briator regarded him with an air of disbelief. “Were you out in the sun too long? Not want a woman? I intend my offspring to inherit pack leadership.”

  Releasing his grip on her so hard the chair rocked, Tratus stepped away and helped himself to a piece of fruit from a bowl on the table. Peeling it with sturdy brown claws he deployed from his fingertips, he said, “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have a woman of your own, Alpha. I’m saying why this one? Why take on the leavings of another Badari?” He took a bite and juice trickled from his chin. As he brushed the droplets away with one hand, he added, “Keep her, of course, another female is always a good thing on the pack balance sheet, but for yourself, wait and pick the best of the fifteen women you’ve negotiated so hard for, one way and another. You deserve the finest, as our leader.”

  “True, this one doesn’t appeal to me or my cock.” Briator approached the chair and ran his claws through Gemma’s tangled hair as she tried to avoid him. He sipped from his glass. “I enjoyed making the soldier wild with jealousy. The cats are so easily manipulated.”

  His third drink or maybe even the fourth. Gemma smelled the fumes of the human feelgood, an expensive blend from an Inner Sectors world. Probably looted from a ship the pirates captured and brought here along with the human captives. Would a drunken Alpha be easier to escape? She wondered what game Tratus was playing right now. Does he want me for himself? She detected no sign of desire or lust from Tratus. But then why is he trying so hard to talk Briator into leaving me alone?

  “Exactly.” Tratus spit out seeds. “In fact, you could use this one as a reward for someone else, someone who doesn’t stand high in your favor—”

  “Thereby insulting him, but leaving him no way to protest because he’d have a female.” Briator threw back his head and guffawed. “I like the way you think. And I know just the person to so ‘honor’. Forcing him to accept a female wearing another man’s mate mark would be an exquisite jest.” Stumbling, he made his way to a couch-like piece of furniture and sat down heavily, spilling some of his drink. “All good points. Untie her and take her out of my sight then, but make sure she has no chance to escape or to harm herself.”

  Fist to heart, Tratus saluted. “I admire your decision making, Alpha.” He slashed through Gemma’s bonds but left the gag, dragging her from the chair and toward the door.

  Her best choice was to go with him and offer no resistance. She took a deep breath as she left the Alpha’s quarters behind and made her way through the hallways, escorted by the Tzibir. Tratus took her outside the residence, past staring Tzibir and to a hut standing in a cluster of three beside an expansive garden. He dragged her inside and bound her hands behind her back before tethering her by the ankle to a stake in the ground. Then he removed the gag and frowned as he saw the bruises on her face. He reached as if to touch her and Gemma retreated, glaring at him.

  “I’ll send the healer later,” he said, “Along with your dinner.”

  “Why are you being so considerate to me now? Is it because you know what your Alpha is doing to Camron and me is wrong?” Gemma hoped she might have hit the sore spot with her rapid-fire question from the way Tratus reacted, but he quickly schooled his features into a blank mask.

  “I’m merely making sure a pack asset is being treated properly,” he said.

  She thought he might say something else, but the enforcer left the hut and she heard him throw the lock shut. Gemma leaned on the wall, realizing he hadn’t tied her wrists tightly. The hut was dimly lit, shafts of sun coming through gaps in the walls, and a bit stuffy. Her head hurt where she’d been beaten, and she leaned carefully against the wall. Now she allowed herself the luxury of tears although she couldn’t wipe her face or blow her nose. She worried what was happening to Camron.

  He was willing to fight Briator to the death to save me. The knowledge was scary and yet heartwarming at the same time. The golden circle of her mate mark glowed in the gloom of the hut and the pulse of the mate bond beat in time with her heart. Gemma worked on getting her hands free, but even though the ropes weren’t tight enough to affect her circulation, the knots were complicated. She wracked her brain for what she should do if she got loose. Where was she being held in relation to Camron? Could she somehow follow the mate bond and find him?

  It would have to be tonight because tomorrow he’d be out of her reach, in the hands of Parryfilmunn.

  Panic threatened to overwhelm her, as memories of her past captivity rose to the surface. She focused on her breathing and clung tight to sensation of the mate bond. Now was not the time to lose herself in vertigo and lightheadedness. She needed to think, to plan

  She heard footsteps outside the hut and allowed her shoulders to slump, as if she was defeated. Blinking as the door opened, she saw a Tzibir man and boy of about ten entering. The latter had a tray with full dishes and a container she hoped held water or nutrient drink. As the door closed behind them, she caught a glimpse of an armed guard stationed outside.

  The man frowned, surveying the interior of the hut. “Barbaric. I apologize for the way you’ve been treated, Camron’s mate.”

  “My name is Gemma,” she said with acid in her tone.

  “And I’m Anaby, the pack healer. My companion is Stebb.” He unslung a battered black leather satchel from his shoulder and set it on the floor, rummaging through the contents and coming up with a hand lamp, which he lit and placed in the middle of the hut. “Much better for you now, yes?” He glanced at the boy. “You can put the tray down—I’ll need to do the healing before she can eat.” He smiled at Gemma. “If you’ll allow me to proceed.”

  “My cheekbone is broken,” she said. “Your precious Alpha doesn’t subscribe to the Badari code, I see, as far as protecting those not as physically strong as he is.”

  Anaby sat beside her and touched her face gently with his long fingers. “We’re not here to pass judgment on the Alpha.”

  She closed her eyes. As careful as the healer was being, there was considerable pain radiating from her left cheek, and the area was swollen. Bitter words clogged her tongue, about the way she and Camron had been treated, about the horrible plans for more human women to be mistreated in the not too distant future. Right now, she didn’t have the energy to fight. Tingling ran through her entire skull and a bright green glow penetrated behind her closed eyelids. “What are you doing?”

  “The Great Mother gives me a portion of her blessed magic,” he said in a soothing voice. “Which I am to use for healing others. There’s an odd resistance in you—”

  “Sorry to be a bad patient,” she said. “I do feel better since you started doing…whatever this therapy is.”

  “I’m not done. I think perhaps the Badari gift is challenged by your human physiology.” Anaby persisted for a few more minutes, beginning to chant under his breath.

  Gemma found it hard to keep from slipping into sleep because the song was hypnotic.

  “Don’t fight me,” Anaby said. “Stebb and I will keep watch over you if you nap, and no harm will come to you. No further harm.”

  Gemma stopped resisting the wave of exhaustion overcoming her and allowed herself to drift into sleep.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  When she awoke, the two Tzibir were seated cross-legged against the closest wall, chatting about an upcoming hunt for antelope from the sound of the discussion, and her cheek was smooth and pain free. Awkwardly, she tried to sit in a more upright position and the healer came to assist her. “You slept deeply for over an hour. Any dreams?”

  “No.” She shook her head gingerly, afraid to trigger the pain which was currently absent. “Should I have?”

  “I hoped perhaps the goddess might speak to you.” Despite his disappointed tone of voice, his face was rather appealing, friendly and open, although his eyes had a reptilian shape and appearance. “But I succumbed to my own vanity, wishing for a sign from her. Your mark is proof enough the ancestral memory speaks truth regarding mates. A blessing to behold,

sufficient miracle for one day.”

  Stebb was retrieving the tray of food and drink. “We’re to feed you.”

  The idea was repugnant and stirred up memories of her early captivity on Taranado Three. Pulse ratcheting into high gear, she gasped. “Oh, please, can you untie my hands and let me feed myself? I’m not a child. I’ll give you my word not to try to escape.”

  “You couldn’t defeat the two of us,” Stebb said as if pronouncing an unquestionable truth. “But I think your request is reasonable.”

  Too late, she remembered Tratus had left her bonds loose, and she bit her lip. With annoying ease Anaby undid the knots which had been defeating her and she rubbed her wrists gratefully. The bonds hadn’t been overly tight, but the rope was abrasive to her skin.

  Stebb set the tray next to her, and she found a plate of crunchy vegetables in sauce, a piece of bread slathered with pink jam, one of the ration bars already unwrapped and a mug of nutrient drink. Being untied made her hopeful, although her ankle was still tethered to the stake. There were no utensils, so she ate rapidly if messily and drank the entire contents of the mug.

  “I apologize, but the Alpha ordered you to be restrained,” the healer said as she finished the last crumbs of the bread. He redid the ropes on her wrists swiftly and Gemma was amazed to find he left them even looser than Tratus had done originally. When she stared at him, he held a finger to his lips.

  Stebb collected the tray. “Do you know a Badari named Yonn?” he asked as he stacked the dishes.

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t. I haven’t actually been to…the place where Camron’s pack lives. We met at a Khagrish lab and we were on our way to his home, as Camron tried to tell your Alpha earlier.”

  “Yonn is alpha-born and my friend. He and I swore an oath of allies, a blood oath,” Stebb said. “When you do meet him, tell him I’m honoring my oath.”

  “I’m not likely to—”

  To her complete astonishment the boy dropped a knife from his own belt into the straw covering the floor and kicked some of the coarse fibers over the blade. At the moment, she wouldn’t be able to reach the weapon but if she could get her hands free, the situation would change in her favor.

  “You won’t be disturbed again tonight,” Anaby said as he prepared to leave the hut. He’d watched Stebb’s byplay with the knife and said nothing. “I may be allowed to treat you again in the morning.”

  “But there’ll be a guard all night,” Stebb added, tilting his head meaningfully at the door.

  “Wait! If you—either of you—sees my mate, tell him I love him, and I have faith in him,” she said, panicked at nearly missing an opportunity to send a message to Camron. “Please.”

  Neither Tzibir replied. Anaby took the hand lamp with him and Gemma was left alone in the gathering dark, working on the ropes once more. She pondered the odd meeting and all the mixed messages she’d received. Was the knife for her to attempt an escape? To protect herself if Briator tried to assault her again? How much help would any of these Tzibir give her, or Camron? She wished she knew more about the Badari traditions but, even though she and Camron had spoken of many things during their time together on the trail, he’d never said much about the Tzibir.

  The chains binding Camron to the pole in the prison hut were tight and unbreakable. He applied all the power in his enhanced muscles over and over in an attempt to loosen them even a fraction, to no avail. The restraints had been salvaged from a Khagrish lab, he surmised, and were more than equal to the task of holding a Badari helpless. From the sounds he overheard he estimated there were three guards on duty around the hut, but his anger burned white hot and, if only he could get free, he’d kill the trio of soldiers. He was sure. Sweat beading his brow and trickling down his chest, he paused in his efforts and focused on the mate bond. The warm glow was steady, but she’d been in pain and frightened earlier, which stoked his fury higher. At the moment she seemed calm, asleep perhaps.

  If I survive this, I’ll get Aydarr to bring our pack here and clean house. These bastards defile the name Badari and the teachings of the Great Mother.

  He leaned against the pole. Parryfilmunn wouldn’t make the same mistakes twice. Camron knew he was going to meet his fate tomorrow most likely, but he was determined to kill the Khagrish commander in the process. If only he could think of a way to save Gemma.

  He heard a murmured exchange of words outside between the guard and someone. The door creaked open, admitting Tratus, followed by a Tzibir cub. The boy had the unmistakable air of an alpha-to-be and carried two nutrient bottles.

  “How is Gemma?” Camron said immediately. “That bastard better not have touched her.”

  Tratus made a shushing motion and spoke in a low voice. “Keep your voice down. I’ve done my best to convince Briator he doesn’t want her after all, and I sent the healer to tend to her earlier.”

  Camron hadn’t known his anger could surge any higher, but this message was fuel to the flames. “Why did she need the healer? Badari healing doesn’t work well on humans.”

  “The Alpha was a bit rough.” Tratus held up one hand. “He didn’t molest her, I give you my word.”

  “I accompanied the healer and saw her myself, a little while ago,” Stebb said. “She’s basically fine.”

  Camron checked the mate bond again, reassured to find Gemma in a calmer state as far as he could tell through their link.

  “We’ve got no orders to feed you, but I’m taking the risk of giving you liquids. The Khagrish want you healthy tomorrow.” Tratus gestured toward the cub. “Allow Stebb to help you drink because I can’t risk undoing your chains. I know you’d attack us, and I wouldn’t blame you.”

  Fearlessly, the younger Tzibir approached Camron and tipped the first bottle of nutrients to his lips. Deciding he needed as much strength as he could get, Camron complied with the request and drank steadily. The cub made no attempt to flood his throat and choke him so this wasn’t meant to be a torture session.

  “Pay attention, because this is how it’s going to happen tomorrow,” Tratus said. “We’re going to march about five miles east to the rendezvous point. You’ll be with us—we have no antigrav litters here. I’ll do my best for you in terms of the force binders being loose but, I have to emphasize, your problem is the Khagrish, not us. Am I clear?”

  Camron stared at him as Stebb retrieved the second bottle. He licked his lips. “No but feel free to continue.”

  “The protocol is we’ll leave you tied securely at the landing site. The Khagrish arrive a short time later to retrieve you.”

  “And Gemma?” Camron wasn’t sure what answer he hoped for when it came to his mate, but he needed all the facts he could get tonight.

  Tratus shook his head. “Briator kept his word. He told the enemy we captured you alone, with no sign of any female. But she stays here with us.”

  Surprised, Camron probed the arrangements. “So let me understand this—you won’t be waiting to make sure the Khagrish retrieve me?”

  “No. The Alpha doesn’t trust this new security chief much. He trusts Dr. Gahzhing—”

  “Never trust a Khagrish,” Camron said with grim emphasis.

  Tratus shrugged. “I’m not going to argue with you. But the Alpha and Gahzhing have the agreements and, so far, the scientist has delivered on the promises. We’ll see if he sends the combat squad composed of our men home safely and if they come with the promised human women.”

  “Your plans for the women are way out of line, you know,” Camron said.

  “There’s no point in having the argument here and now. I don’t disagree, if you care to know the truth, but for now we have an Alpha and he’s decided.”

  Camron found the way the enforcer phrased the situation intriguing. “For discussion’s sake, suppose I do manage to kill the Khagrish tomorrow and come back here to rescue my mate, which I assure you will be my next move, why shouldn’t I kill Briator in the process? Especially if he hurt Gemma.”

  Tratus raised his ey
es to the ceiling as if praying for patience and gave a heavy sigh. Muscle in his clenched jaw twitching, he glared at Camron. “Admit you can’t. You aren’t highly enough ranked to take him on and kill him, except in an ambush or through trickery. No offense, but I doubt you could challenge your own Alpha and hope to win, although I can see what a solid senior soldier you are. And Briator is not your problem. I can’t emphasize the fact enough. Your job is to rescue your mate and get the hell out of here. I’m trying to help you here. We’ll have made sure Gemma is in a place you can easily retrieve her.”

  “The next hut across the field actually,” Stebb said.

  Camron wasn’t willing to let go of his hatred for the Tzibir Alpha. "Briator—”

  “Will be drunk out of his mind and sleeping it off in his quarters.” The enforcer’s disgust radiated in his tone. “The Khagrish keep him well supplied with fucking human feelgoods and he’s addicted.”

  Unable to accept what he was hearing, Camron narrowed his eyes and studied the other Badari closely. He detected no scent of a lie. “He actually indulges?”

  Frowning as if in pain over his Alpha’s behavior, Tratus nodded. “The Khagrish gave him some as a reward, in the labs a while ago, just for him, not to be shared. It was another experiment on their part, of course. Turns out something in our physiology makes us highly susceptible to the stuff.”

  “Aydarr won’t let anyone even sample the supply we have. He refuses to touch it either but some of the high ranking humans are allowed small quantities at major celebrations. For the most part, they can handle its effects and enjoy the stimulation without becoming a problem.” Camron wondered if his own Alpha had been exposed to the same type of experiment or had heard about what was done to Briator. Aydarr abstained from anything stronger than the Badari tea they all loved.

  “Wise of him to ration the stuff. Tell him I said so. In the lab, the Khagrish controlled Briator’s stash, gave him just enough to keep him hooked but highly functional. Since we escaped, he goes on binges.” The last word was pronounced with disdain and Tratus clamped his lips together as if to prevent himself from saying more on the topic.

 
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