by Kyle, Celia
“Go ahead, give me my tip.”
“Where are you going to put it? You have no pockets—no anything, for that matter.”
She smiles slyly.
“I think you can figure this out. You’re a bright young man.”
My eyes widen as I do, indeed, figure it out. I take a small handful of the highest denomination bills and let them fall over her. Fiona gasps, her eyes fluttering closed as my fingers enter her next. I can’t resist stroking the inside of her pussy and enjoying the warmth of her dripping-wet orifice.
I’m having so much fun, I forget that we’re in the middle of a heist. That turns out to be a mistake.
She gasps, and I pull my fingers back out of her as the sound of someone trying the door reaches our ears. After a moment’s grumbling the person on the other side uses a key to unlock it.
We stand there in shock as the overseer enters the room to find his safe busted open, a naked woman dancing on his desk, and a very bewildered Kilgari engineer with an arc cutter in his hand.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fiona
Maybe we should have been a little less distracted and a little more careful in the process of clearing out the auctioneer’s office, but how can I be blamed for wanting to have a little fun with my jalshagar? It’s been a stressful day and I’d had no idea whether I’d ever see Montier again when I’d been captured at the black site. I wasn’t going to waste any more time in giving myself to him.
And I’ve never been the type of girl who can’t find humor or fun in a shitty situation. Leave it to me to break the tension by doing something completely ridiculous, like dancing naked atop a desk for my lover as he rains money down on me in the middle of a heist of a slave auction run by some really unfriendly people.
Yeah, sometimes I might not make the best decisions. But when love clouds your judgment and you realize you almost lost a transcendental love, you end up making some odd choices.
We’re so clearly headed for round two of reunion lovemaking when my ears pick up someone jiggling the door handle. Before I can react fast enough, it swings wide, revealing the mean-yet-startled face of who I assume is the sapient in charge of this racket, seeing as there’s a ring with more keys on it than I’ve ever seen in my life dangling from his hand.
His surprise quickly gives way to anger as he surveys the room. His eyes rake from my naked form, now mostly hidden by Montier’s sizable mass, to Montier himself, currently coiled into a battle stance, to our bag stuffed full of our payout. He takes in the credits and coins spilled all over the floor from our fun and then his eyes snap back to my jalshagar.
The auctioneer doesn’t say a word. He merely laughs. It’s a horrible, visceral sound, as if he knows we have nowhere to run and he’s got the upper hand. If he’s truly in charge of this operation, he’s not wrong. I’ve seen enough of this place to know it’s swarming with well-armed guards who wouldn’t take kindly to us robbing them of their paycheck.
I don’t know what I can do to help this situation—there’s nothing for me to hack into here and that’s about all I’m good at—but I lean in just far enough to tell Montier in a hushed whisper to trust me before I pretend to try to escape from behind him.
“Oh, thank goodness you’ve come. Please help me get away from this brute!” I scream at the auctioneer.
I stare purposefully into his rheumy eyes, trying to infuse as much terror into mine as I can manage. I’m sure it’s not very much as I’m not the greatest actress, but I’m at a loss at what else to do, other than to distract him long enough for Montier to formulate a plan.
“I was awaiting the auction block, but suddenly this damned Kilgari grabbed me and dragged me in here. I’ve been trying to escape, but he forced me to help him rob your coffers and then made me dance for him. Please, sir, I’m a member of the Xiphian royal family. They can pay you more than anything you’ll get on the block if you return me to them. I beg of you, please!” I cry, voice as shrill as I can make it.
“Quiet, wench!” Montier says, finally playing along. He partially turns to face me, removing my clawing hands from his shoulders and pushing me back down on the desk before turning back to the auctioneer. “How about you just let me take this human bitch, you keep your money, and I’ll be on my way?”
“You must take me for a bigger fool than I thought with that story. Do you think I haven’t heard that tale before—a Xiphian princess? Hah! You’re nothing more than a common, human whore who found herself in a bad situation out on the frontier. You’re all the same—big dreams about starting a new life until you see what really happens on these outer planets. By then you’re in too deep and it’s too late for you to get out,” he says, his voice as mean as his face.
I hear a deep, rumbling growl coming from Montier. Clearly, he doesn’t share the same opinion of me as the auctioneer and doesn’t take kindly to the other male’s insults.
“Here’s an idea. If you really want to escape this brute, you can be my personal plaything and you’ll never have to see this vasper again. I’ll make sure of it. What do you think, whore?”
Calling me a whore again is the worst thing he could have done. I feel Montier’s rage build before I see him move, so quickly I wouldn’t have been able to stop him if I tried. Quick as lightning he approaches the auctioneer, grabbing him around the throat and lifting him high enough off the ground that his feet begin scrabbling to find purchase. Montier’s grasp on his neck is so strong that his eyes quickly begin to bulge, the blood vessels already beginning to pop in violent, red streaks.
“Montier, you’ll kill him!” I cry on instinct although I’m not really sure I care whether a male as vile as he is lives or dies.
At the sound of my voice Montier releases the auctioneer, throwing him clean across the room. He crashes into a shelf stocked high with ledgers, papers, and other items related to his filthy occupation, and it all comes tumbling down atop him. Such a savage attack would have killed a human male, but the auctioneer merely rises from where he’d landed, spits a mouthful of blood, and snarls at my jalshagar.
“You’ll pay for that, Kilgari scum!”
The auctioneer rushes at my mate just as quickly as Montier had thrown him, but Montier is ready for him. I watch in abject horror as they engage in hand-to-hand combat, fists flying and blood welling up on both their bodies as various injuries begin to bloom. It runs down Montier’s handsome face in a thick stream from a deep laceration above his eye, and at the sight of it my own blood runs cold.
I’m still completely naked and I have no experience in combat of any kind, but that doesn’t mean I can’t provide some sort of distraction. All around the room are numerous trinkets on display—statuettes and precious gems, knick-knacks and artwork from all over the galaxy. Without hesitation I begin grabbing whatever I can find and hurling them at the auctioneer, hitting him more than I miss. They bounce off his shoulders and head, some splintering to pieces as they connect.
“You are absolutely not a Xiphian princess!” he yells against my barrage of bric-a-brac.
“No, she’s Fiona from Novaria, my jalshagar, and I’m getting sick of this shit!” Montier bellows, enraged.
Time seems to freeze as I watch him haul back his mighty fist one more time before letting it fly. A solid right hook connects with the side of the auctioneer’s head at an angle that could only be fated, and he drops like a stone to the floor.
Carefully, attempting to avoid the shattered remnants of the auctioneer’s fanciful collection I’d shattered on the floor, I tiptoe over to him. Leaning down, I press two fingers against his throat. Nothing.
“He’s dead,” I say, looking up into the eyes of my mate.
“Fucking finally,” Montier answers. He reaches down and lifts me up into his arms, kissing me roughly before bringing me back over to the desk so I don’t injure myself. “I know it’s not much, but put that flimsy garment back on. We’ve got to find the others.”
I do as he says, watching as he lean
s down over the body of the auctioneer as his comm device crackles to life.
“Are you two nearly finished? We have a new plan,” Solair says.
“We ran into a little trouble, but we’re done here. Rendezvous back at the main hall in two minutes,” Montier replies as he begins rifling through the auctioneer’s pockets.
Suddenly he pauses and my eyes narrow as a wide grin pulls at his lips.
“What?” I ask.
He pulls his hand out from the inside of the auctioneer’s jacket and inside his fist is the largest stack of credits I’ve ever seen one person carry at a time. “Finally, justification for being a fucking pirate! I’m going to take a page out of that famed human story of yours—Robin Hood, was it? Stealing from the rich to giving to the needy? Well, today, the needy is me. What a perfect reward for all my hard work!” he laughs.
“How much is that?” I ask.
“Looks to be about twenty thousand—enough to buy you a beautiful mating gift, my love,” he says.
I can’t help but smile at him, despite the fact that he’s covered in blood and we’re still nowhere close to being safe.
“You’re incorrigible,” I tell him.
“You love it,” he says.
“That I do,” I agree. “Now get back over here and help me down off this desk. We have a mission to complete.”
Once again he lifts me into his arms and helps me clear the mess. Together, we grab the bags containing our heist and head out to find our friends.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Montier
After our run-in with the auctioneer, Fiona and I waste no time gathering up our plunder and hightailing it out of the office. Far too many people still mill about, both buyers and slaves, and I want to get out of here as quickly as possible before someone notices we’re making off with the payout. The last thing we need is another setback.
Although Fiona is much smaller than I am, I admire her tenacity. She’s barely clothed and barefoot, yet she’s still hauling a bag stuffed to the top with credits, notes, and various coinage. I gave her the lightest one, but it’s still probably half her weight. She wouldn’t allow me to take all of them myself, wanting to help out as much as possible and claiming she feels partially responsible for getting us into this mess.
As if any of this is her fault. She’s been running herself nearly to death trying to decrypt files and figure out why she and the other women were taken. If I have to spend the rest of our lives convincing her that none of what’s happened to her is her fault, I’ll do it.
By galactic governmental standards, the crew of the Ancestral Queen is a small fish in a big pond, but we’re all determined to see this through and uncover the secret of why our women were taken prisoner and abandoned aboard the Frontier. Now that some of them are tied to my brethren for life, it’s become personal. I hope the IHC have a plan to deal with the angry Kilgari who’ll be beating down their door.
From everything the IHC says and espouses, they are a benevolent organization. Sure, their first interests are protecting the 140 billion citizens—mostly humans—who live in the galaxy. But they’re a liberal democratic republic. And such entities don’t go around kidnapping people, hiring mercenaries from other planets, and selling people into slavery.
The IHC, known as the Interstellar Human Confederation, was formed after the human home planet went through their nuclear war. They put the pieces back and rebuilt their society. What has taken other civilizations thousands of years, they did in less than fifty.
Along the way they emerged as a force for good in the galaxy.
Or so I thought.
But there’s no time to dwell on those kinds of thoughts. Once we’re back aboard the Queen, I’ll dedicate more time to sorting it all out in my head. For now, the only thing we can do is run and hope we make it back to the rest of the team in one piece.
Just as we arrive in the bidding area, I hear Solair’s voice cracking over the comm device once more. He’s patched into the Queen, sending orders to Swipt.
“I’m going to need you to get our bird in the air and come gather us as soon as you can. As with most of our missions, things here have gone tits up. I need you to prepare for a hasty return to space. Get everyone who can to strap in now so they’re ready to go.”
Swipt’s reply comes only a moment later, just a curt, “You got it, Cap,” and the device falls silent once more.
We locate the rest of the team immediately once we reach the staging area. Our group stands out amongst the other buyers, as the Kilgari often do. Our horns, although a source of pride amongst our race, aren’t typical of others. Since we’re also blessed with immense height, they almost serve as a beacon in a crowded room.
Varia and Lamira embrace Fiona quickly while Grantian and Solair both slap me on the back. It’s clear none of us want to draw the attention of the other buyers in attendance, but we’re glad to see each other alive.
Only Thrase’s mouth drops nearly to her knees when she sees the outfit Fiona’s dressed in.
“I can’t believe you allowed them to put you in that!” she exclaims, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Honestly, do you think I had a choice?” Fiona snaps at her.
“I’m not saying it doesn’t look good on you—it looks great, in fact—it’s just…it’s not very practical,” Thrase says, correcting herself.
I watch as Fiona rolls her eyes and Varia interrupts any reply she’s planning to give.
“Not the time, ladies. We have an escape to make, remember? And there are more of us now, with a pretty sizable fortune to hide as well, so we have to figure out how to be discreet about it.”
“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Thrase begins but is cut off by my mate.
“Really, Thrase? Just can it for a minute and let us figure this out without your know-it-all attitude getting in the way,” she demands.
Thrase, rebuked, nearly folds in on herself as she crosses her arms over her chest. Her dark-rimmed glasses slip down her nose and she makes no move to adjust them.
Surprisingly, Zander comes to her defense.
“What Thrase was trying to say before you so rudely interrupted her, Fiona—” I don’t quite like the tone he’s taking with my mate, but I’ll take that up with him later. “—is that along with freeing the other women you were held with, we’re going to destroy the building. That’ll provide more than enough of a distraction to get us all out of here. Everyone will be panicking and that’s when we’ll make our move.”
I stare at him. “And how do you propose we level this place? It’s enormous. The last time I checked, none of us have weapons on us of that caliber—not even you, Specialist. Are you expecting Swipt to blow this place to smithereens once he arrives? Because we definitely don’t need the Queen to be moved higher up on the list of blacklisted vessels.”
It doesn’t surprise me that Zander jumped to defend Thrase. They’re cut from the same cloth, both extremely intelligent and extremely cocky. Although the crew of the Queen gets along well for the most part, out of everyone on board, I’ve probably come head-to-head with Zander more than anyone.
“Honestly, Montier, you should know by now that I always have a plan. While you were rescuing Fiona—very admirable, by the way—Thrase and I were off collecting supplies to demolish this pit of depravity. Anything can be a weapon if you try hard enough,” he says with an almost feral grin.
I make a mental note to stay off his bad side before opening my mouth for further clarification, but just as I’m about to speak there’s a commotion near the auction stage. One of the guards has hauled himself onto it and is demanding silence from everyone gathered. It falls quickly over us all, like a blanket of freshly fallen snow.
“It seems there’s something far more sinister afoot here than simple slave trading. Our organizer, Mgaal, was just found murdered in his very own office! What’s more, all of the auction funds have been stolen. I expect those of you who are innocent would very much like to find
those responsible for this, for if we don’t get your money, you don’t get your slaves. Everyone in this room will remain exactly where they are. Guards, search them all! Mgaal’s body is not yet cold, so the thieves are very likely still on the premises.”
Fiona immediately turns to look at me, eyes filled with dread.
“How are we going to get out of here now?” she asks. “It’s not like we can separate the money between us to make it less conspicuous. They’re searching everyone, so either way it’ll be found.”
“Can we leave it? Come back for it later?” Grantian asks Solair.
Solair is silent for a moment, his face pensive.
“We’ll have to leave it, but we can’t come back. There’s no other way. Getting out of here with our lives is what counts. There’ll always be another job,” he finally says, although I can tell it pains him to do so.
“I thought you had a plan, Zander?” I ask, unable to disguise my mocking tone.
“There is a plan. It’s just timed! If we could only wait a few moments more,” he says.
“Well that’s definitely not an option,” Thrase says to him, gesturing over his shoulder.
She’s right. The guards are closing in fast. If we don’t leave now, we’re fucked.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fiona
I’m not quite sure when I’ll finally realize that nothing in my life is going to be easy anymore. The sooner that happens, the better off I’ll be. I wouldn’t change where I am now for all the credits in the galaxy, but I’m starting to feel like as long as I’m part of the crew of the Ancestral Queen I’ll always be running or hiding or fighting for my life.
As the auction guards close in on us, I press ever closer to Montier. I feel stuck, like a rat in a cage. Worse, actually, like a rat in a steel trap with someone heating it from the outside. I nervously dance from foot to foot, not knowing what to do or what our next move should be. Were this a computer database or an illegal holonet site, I’d have already found a workaround by now. I’m so out of my element I can barely stand it.
