by Kyle, Celia
I’m certain Montier can sense my apprehension. Even if he wasn’t my jalshagar, I’m sure he could smell it on me a mile away. Because he is my jalshagar, he only loops one of his thick arms around my waist and pulls me closer to his side. I can feel the steady beat of his heart through the massive wall of his chest, and it does calm me, although not by much.
“We’re going to have to do this and bring as little attention to ourselves as possible,” Solair says quietly. “Montier, Fiona, leave the bags where they are. We’re all going to back away very slowly while the guards are searching everyone else.”
I immediately put down the bag I’m holding, dropping it as soundlessly as possible to the ground. It’s not an easy feat. The large amount of coins hidden within tinkle every inch of the way.
Montier’s no better off than I am. He’s got the majority of the rest of the loot to take care of, and he’s not exactly what anyone would call graceful. He eyes the room as he prepares to drop them, coinciding his movements with those of the guards and other sounds coming from the various buyers and slaves who surround us.
It’s a miracle no one’s called us out yet. Thankfully, we’re encircled by the rest of our team and the large bodies of Solair, Grantian, and Zander serve almost as a wall, blocking us from view.
We’re just about to make a break for it when the guards nearest to us suddenly pause, halted by a pair of very familiar-looking Kraaj mercenaries.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whisper, peering around Montier’s hulking frame.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
“It’s the mercs from the black site—the Kraaj. After they completed their piss-poor interrogation and found me wanting, they brought me here. What the hell are they doing back?” I wonder aloud.
“They’ve probably come to their senses and realized they made a mistake in handing a woman as beautiful as you over to this dung heap,” Montier answers.
“While I appreciate the compliment, I highly doubt that’s the case, my love,” I tell him.
“What are they saying?” Solair asks.
“I don’t know. We’re too far away and no one in this room seems very interested in shutting the hell up,” Montier says.
At that, a pair of Vakutans standing near to us immediately stop talking, as if they don’t want to get on his bad side. With the end of their conversation I can finally make out what the Kraaj are saying.
“We were just here, you morons. We brought a human woman to be sold. She’s a tiny thing, blonde, blue-eyed, probably one of the best-looking ones here. Definitely the cleanest. Turns out we need her back,” the larger of the two Kraaj says.
The guard merely laughs. Apparently, Mgaal trained his lackeys to respond just as he would.
“Are you out of your mind? You brought her here and now she’s ours—no returns, no refunds. If you want her back, you buy her back. Those are the rules,” he says.
A massive vein crawling along the side of the Kraaj’s neck begins to visibly pulse although his face doesn’t change.
“She’s a known terrorist, responsible for the theft of highly classified documents. You may be responsible for this place, but I report to someone way above your paygrade, and you will return her to us,” he tells the guard.
“Sure, I’ll return her to you—once I’m finished with my own interrogation and you pay for her,” the guard reiterates through clenched teeth. He shoves the Kraaj hard, his shoulder connecting with the Kraaj’s chest as if he doesn’t give two shits who he reports to or what he could do to him.
I wish I had his balls. Watching their interaction, I’ve never felt so small and puny in my entire life.
The guard continues searching the auction patrons, paying no mind to the two Kraaj mercs who are watching his every move. They appear to be weighing their options, as if trying to figure out what to do. It’s only been just over an hour since they brought me here, so they must believe I wouldn’t have been purchased yet.
And from what little time I spent with them at the black site, I already know they’re not really the type to just give up.
“Well, if you’re too busy to help us, we’ll just begin our own search. Surely you don’t mind,” the other Kraaj says, unholstering the photon pistol at his waist. The other merc follows suit and together they begin pushing through the crowd.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if those two-dicked assholes came back looking for her, too. If we find one of them, it’s likely she’ll be close by,” the first Kraaj notes.
Even though they’re closing fast, I can’t help but wonder what’s on the files I downloaded. It gives me a little thrill to think of what I might uncover if only we can make it out of here in one piece. It must be something big if they’ve come back here for me. Maybe we’ve finally found something that’ll tell us why we were arrested and forced on board the Frontier.
Just like the guards, the Kraaj are checking everyone. I suppose they’re not willing to leave any stone unturned, thinking maybe I’d disguised myself. It’s slowing their approach but not by much.
“Should we just make a break for it?” Montier asks Solair.
“Too risky. We’re outnumbered. Our best chance now is to wait until they find us and accompany them outside. Swipt should be here any minute and he can help clear us a path back to the Queen.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” Montier asks, his eyes watching the mercs.
They’re only two groups ahead of us now. We’re running out of time.
“It’s the best we can do, considering the circumstances. We have a better shot at fighting them out in the open. In these close quarters there’s too strong a chance of collateral damage,” Solair says.
“Who gives a fuck, Solair? Everyone in this room is lower than dogshit. I say we make a little collateral damage of our own and be done with it,” Montier says, pulling his blaster from where he’d tucked it in the waist of his pants, nestled against the small of his back.
Our situation is quickly unravelling. Montier is becoming positively mutinous and if I don’t do something soon, he’s going to get us all killed.
“Why don’t I just give myself up? They want me. Once they have me, the rest of you can escape and come back for me later. You’ve already done it once. You can do it again,” I say.
“Absolutely fucking not. You’re not going anywhere with those silver assholes,” Montier says.
“He’s right, Fiona. We’re not losing you again. We’re a team. We stick together,” Solair says.
The captain’s concern for me warms my heart.
“Well then, what do we do?” I ask.
“Prepare yourself,” Solair says.
But their approach is halted once more, their attention drawn back to the auction guards, arguing with a scar-faced IHC human commander who’s just entered the establishment.
Things just keep going from bad to worse.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Montier
I’ve never seen the scar-faced commander before, but apparently the Kraaj have. Instead of continuing their mission to find Fiona, they double back to where he’s begun his own interrogation of the auction guards. They seem to be as unfazed by him as they were the Kraaj, possibly because he’s only a tiny human despite his hideous face.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told your silver-backed friends,” the guard says. “You can’t just come in here making demands. You have no jurisdiction here. This is the frontier, not IHC space. We’ve never returned a slave before and we’re not going to start now!”
I’ve got to hand it to them for holding their ground. Even though I would’ve dropped them myself when I had the chance had they not had my jalshagar by the throat, the Kraaj are quite formidable adversaries. Just a look from them is usually enough to send a lesser race running.
“I refuse to pay you for her. She’s a terrorist. If you won’t return her to me, I’ll haul you in for aiding and abetting. Is that how you’d like this to play ou
t?” Scarface replies.
His voice is dangerously even, as if he’s confident he has the upper hand.
As their conversation continues, Solair uses their distraction against them. As quietly as he can, he lifts his comm device and adjusts the volume before speaking into it.
“Swipt, how far out are you?” he asks in a whisper.
Let it never be said that Swipt is an idiot. When his voice comes through the speaker it’s just as quiet, copying our captain’s hushed tone.
“About two minutes. What do you need?”
“A distraction upon arrival. Whatever you can manage, but don’t hit the building. We’re still stuck inside,” Solair tells him.
“Copy that. Between Ilya and me, we’ll figure something out. See you all soon. Don’t do anything stupid, like get yourselves killed,” Swipt replies.
“That’s the plan,” Solair says to him and then silences the unit.
“What’s two more minutes? We can do this,” Varia says although her voice isn’t as confident as it usually is.
Scarface is still arguing with the guards. Their tenacity is impressive. They haven’t budged an inch since the Kraaj rolled in, and their answer hasn’t changed for Scarface. They can have Fiona back if they’re willing to pay for her, which is probably because they’re well aware their pay has just been stolen.
I don’t know how much longer they’re going to keep going around in circles, with Scarface demanding Fiona’s return and the guards denying him. The Kraaj mercs have been uncharacteristically silent for the entire exchange although I can see the muscles in their jaws twitching. I bet it’s killing them to have this human negotiating for them, seeing as the man is nearly half their size.
Even as I watch, the Kraaj reach their tipping point. One of them suddenly whips his photon pistol back out of its holster and aims it at the guard’s head, the other following suit without hesitation.
“Since this is clearly going nowhere, how about we just shoot you, find the bitch, and take her with us? It seems to me that the only problem here is you,” the first merc says.
Well, that’s one way to do it.
With two deadly pistols aimed at his head, the guard immediately backs down.
“All this for one human girl? She must have a golden pussy. Whatever she’s got, it’s not worth my life. If you can find her, she’s yours. Good luck and good fucking riddance,” he says.
The idiot should’ve kept his mouth shut. The larger of the two Kraaj hauls back and pistol whips him, causing him to crumple to the ground. The other fires one shot into his head and then turns immediately to the second guard, who’s now shaking so hard his knees are knocking together.
“Are you as dumb as he is?” the bigger Kraaj asks.
The second guard only shakes his head in response.
“Good. Help us find the woman and you won’t suffer the same fate.”
This time, they don’t have to repeat themselves. The second guard begins pushing through the crowd, checking every woman he comes across. It’s only a matter of time before he reaches us and Fiona will be taken again.
There’s no other option. We’re going to have to fight our way to the door. It’s not going to be an even fight, but it never would have been in the first place. I won’t allow them to take Fiona again. I’ll die before I let that happen.
“We’re out of time, Solair,” I say. “We can’t wait for Swipt. We have to get out of here now.”
I watch my captain release a heavy sigh, heavier than I’ve ever seen before. We’ve gotten in quite a few scrapes together, but none so bad as this. We’ve never been tied down so tightly that we haven’t been able to overcome the obstacles placed before us. Some of our team might make it out alive, but at least one of us will be going back to the Queen in a body bag and he knows it.
“Grantian, you take point. Montier, Zander, you’re on flanks. Surround the women as best you can. I’ll bring up the rear. Try to move quickly, everyone, and stay as low as you can. Our objective is the far door, not the main one. They’re too close to it. If we can at least make it outside, we can circle back and meet up with the Queen. They must be nearly here by now,” Solair tells us.
I watch as Grantian and Zander nod grimly. Grantian moves to place Lamira close to the middle of the pack of women, kissing her soundly before moving to the front of the group. It’s a rare moment of tenderness coming from the ex-Hael Hound. Zander throws a discreet look in Thrase’s direction, something I wouldn’t have caught if I hadn’t been staring right at him.
Fiona reaches for me first. She places both her tiny hands into mine and stares up into my face, her blue eyes shining with tears.
“It’s really it this time. Isn’t it? This is how it ends?” she asks.
“It might not be,” I say to her. “Who knows what fate has planned for us?”
“Fate,” she laughs. “What a cruel, awful thing. Bringing us together just to tear us apart.”
“Don’t say that, Fiona. I’d die a thousand deaths if it meant I got to spend even an hour by your side. The only regret I have is that we didn’t get enough time together. We should have had more time. If I die today and if there’s a life after this, know that I’ll be waiting for you there,” I tell her.
“Don’t—” she gasps. “Don’t even say the words. I can’t bear it.”
“A thousand deaths,” I say again before lowering my mouth to hers.
She kisses me hard, paying no mind to the fact that we’re standing in the middle of a crowded room with foes getting closer to us by the second. Her tears have finally fallen, tracking down her cheeks and pooling on her lips. I taste the salt of them on my tongue.
When she finally pulls away, she only stares up at me sadly for one final moment. There’s nothing left for us to say.
Without another word from any of us, we fall into position. Silently, Grantian takes a step forward and I brace myself for the command to halt as soon as the guards notice us moving.
But it never comes. The next sound we hear is the massive, echoing boom of an explosion. It’s so loud it nearly deafens me and so close it shakes the entire foundation of the auction house. For a moment I think the Queen must have finally arrived, but I quickly realize the ship doesn’t have enough firepower to create such a charge.
As I pause, dumbfounded, I notice the crowd is pressing forward in a panic, trying to escape the room. As another explosion sounds, I finally realize what I hadn’t before. They’re coming from inside the building.
We’ve got to get out of here now.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fiona
Absolute pandemonium breaks out seconds after a massive boom shakes the entire foundation of the auction house. Everyone—buyers, slaves, and guards alike— immediately rushes toward the main entrance. I’m jostled about from the onslaught of bodies and nearly lose my footing entirely from my lack of appropriate footwear. My toes are trampled on more than one occasion.
All it takes is one appropriately timed shove, although whether it’s intentional or not I can’t be sure, and I’m on the ground. It’s all I can do to curl in on myself, lifting my hands and arms to protect my head as I’m nearly run down by the fleeing occupants of the building.
I never thought I’d be trampled to death, but it seems it may be the way I leave this world.
I’m preparing myself for the inevitable when I’m suddenly grasped by a pair of strong hands around my waist and hauled up. When the dust settles, I’m not surprised to see I’m pressed against Montier’s strong chest as he stares down at me.
“Are you alright?” he asks, concern etched all over his face.
“Yes,” I pant, my chest heaving through the thin gossamer fabric of my ridiculous outfit. His eyes flick down to the swell of my breasts and even though now’s not the time for either of us to be turned on, I can’t help but think back to our dalliances in the auctioneer’s office.
“We’ve got to move,” he says, holding me close to him and gu
iding me toward one of the side exits.
I see that everyone else in our group is attempting to do the same, to move to a door on the left side of the building around the back of the bar. Because everyone else is attempting to exit through the front entrance it isn’t easy, almost like swimming backward through a strong current that’s determined to drown you. I cling to Montier, knowing his brute strength will get us through the press of bodies.
Indeed, the crowd parts before us although we’re thrown some confused glances. The good thing is no one’s questioning our movements or drawing any further attention to us. I guess they can tell by the look on Montier’s face that it wouldn’t be in their best interests to cross my furiously determined mate.
“What the hell was that, anyway?” I ask no one in particular. “Did Solair tell Swipt to fire on the building upon arrival?”
Uncannily, Thrase appears at my side with a wild grin on her face. Zander is positioned in front of her, blocking her from the oncoming crowd like a shield made of flesh.
“It’s not Swipt. It was us! Zander and me,” she exclaims. “While you were all looking for the take, he and I created a series of bombs from the alcohol stores in the cellar. They’re timed to go off in a consecutive, domino-like order, and are interspersed below this main room throughout the cellar and a small weapons storage room. When the last one detonates inside the weapons cache, this place will be blown sky-high!”
She’s positively beaming with pride. It’s not that I don’t like Thrase because I do. She can be really sweet when she wants to be. The problem is she’s too intelligent for her own good and almost completely lacks common sense.
“Were you planning for this to happen while we were still inside the building?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light and nonjudgmental.
