by Alana Khan
“It was selfish of me to stay on Fairea and fight Khour, Willa. I know it terrified you. I—”
“I understand, Bayne. I do. Even though I was terrified I was going to lose you, I’m also proud of you for holding fast to your convictions. You succeeded in ridding the universe of one of its most ruthless and dangerous males.
“He wouldn’t stop. He continued to threaten our lives and take away the freedom we’ve all fought so hard to achieve. When everyone else was ready to admit defeat, you and WarDog persisted and won. I couldn't be prouder of you both.”
My chest expands in pride as WarDog and I bask in our mate’s praise.
“All that’s behind us now. We can both just look ahead. You said you’d be my mate. Do you still mean it?”
“Yes.” She snuggles closer and kisses me. It’s a chaste kiss, but it promises so much more.
Willa
Even though Bayne was at death’s door yesterday, miraculously he’s fine now. He tells me it’s his shifter nature that allows him to heal quickly. Wow, it would be amazing to be able to do that.
He pulls me onto his lap as we wait for the meeting to begin. I have no complaints. Besides, it’s standing room only in here. Between the inhabitants of both ships, the women from the dorm, and seven of the eight males who had been locked in that horrible underground dungeon, we’ve got a full house. Even though most are still too weak to be up for more than a few hours, all of them wanted to be here.
“Thank you all for coming,” Zar says, a clutch of handwritten notes in his hand. “A few announcements first, some recreation I think you all will enjoy, then we have serious business to discuss.
“First I want to thank all the males of both ships who risked their lives on the mission yesterday. What a great success that all of Khour’s males at the compound were eliminated and we were able to rescue the males and females who are with us today.
“The evil Daneur Khour, the male responsible for the capture, pain, and torture of almost everyone here and thousands more across the universe, died a death he deserved.”
“Good wishes and profound thanks to Bayne, our very own WarDog, who killed the dracker with his own hands—and teeth—and escaped death.”
The noise of cheers, clapping, and stomping feet erupts in the room. Every male in the room stands, faces Bayne, nods, and thumps his chest with his fist in the gladiator show of respect. Bayne’s humble nod of acceptance has my eyes filling with tears of pride.
When everyone settles down, Zar continues, “Many of you have asked about Wrage who was injured in the attack on Fairea. In case anyone failed to notice, he’s recovering well and is with us today.”
He nods toward the Wryth’N male who looks to be in great health when he stands and, just to show how strong he is, lifts his mate Elyse, who squeals in surprise. Although the group bursts with laughter, by the look on Elyse’s face, he’s going to get reamed out for that little stunt when they return to the cabin they share.
“Regarding So’Lan, the Ton’Arran we rescued from the dungeon, Dr. Drayke says the male is still in . . .” Zar shuffles through his notes, “critical condition. For those of you who have a relationship with your Gods, I’m sure the male would welcome your prayers.”
The room grows silent for a moment. Every one of us has heard of the deplorable conditions in which he and all those males were held. It’s brutally obvious looking at the emaciated, injured, and sickly males scattered throughout the room. The women we rescued look to be in better physical condition, but their hollow eyes suggest there’s more to the story.
I can hardly fathom what they all have been through. I know many in this room can relate to the abuse they’ve endured. I imagine I’m not the only one thinking, ‘there but for the grace of God go I’. We’re all so lucky to be free. And now liberated from the MarZan cartel that has been pursuing us and preventing us from feeling the true peace of freedom.
“I thought we’d all enjoy a bit of entertainment. I believe there isn’t a soul in the room who wasn’t abused or terrorized by Daneur Khour and the MarZan cartel. We pulled the vid feed from the mansion.
“Anya told me to warn you . . .” After consulting his notes, he says, “This is R-rated and those of you with . . .” he shuffles again, “weak stomachs may want to close your eyes or step out of the room. That’s because we’re going to watch what Bayne and WarDog did in that mansion on Fairea. It was all recorded.”
He peers over his sheaf of papers at the audience. None of us get up to leave.
“Willa, you won’t like this,” Bayne says. “Please leave.”
“Why? You won. I may see you injured, but I know the ending. You got your revenge.”
“I . . .” His mouth works, but no words come out; he’s distressed. “I was bloodthirsty. You won’t love me after you see this. Please step out.” His lids slam shut as if he’s remembering something he’d rather forget.
Frankly, I’d love to see that bastard Khour get what he deserved. Not only was he directly or indirectly responsible for enslaving me and everyone on board, but what he did to those males they carried up from under the ground? That alone should earn him the very-excruciating-death-penalty. But Bayne doesn’t want me to watch, so I won’t. I don’t want to cause him any more pain. I give him a swift kiss on the lips and say, “Nothing you could do to that bastard would be bloodthirsty enough, in my opinion, but I’ll step out.”
I make my way through the double doors and wait until the vid is over and the appreciative catcalls, wild applause, and stomping die out, then return to sit back on his lap.
“You have a good male,” one of the women calls to me as I make my way through the audience to Bayne. Several women vehemently agree.
I glance at Shadow. Word has it that Khour was indirectly responsible for the loss of his eye and arm as well as for his parents selling him into slavery. His nostrils are flared and he’s breathing heavily. Petra’s holding his hand as if her life depends on it, but in actuality, she is his lifeline.
“I’d like a copy of the vid,” he murmurs to Zar. “I’d like to watch it one or two hundred more times.”
Now that I’m seated, all I can see is his back. His shoulders are still heaving as he breathes heavily. “I hope this gives him the closure he needs,” I whisper to Bayne.
Zar must have amazing hearing, because he says, “Sextus also mentioned getting closure when we sent a copy of the vid to our pirate friends.”
The two captains now get to the heart of the matter. We have to decide what to do with the new souls aboard our ships. There are a thousand details involved in the logistics of absorbing so many new people.
After an hour of discussion, a plan begins to form. None of the new males or females are particularly keen on roaming the galaxy on either of our vessels. I think we’re all in agreement on that because most of us were wondering how we could assimilate so many people at once—none of whom appear to have any skills that would be helpful to us. Besides, none of the males have fully recuperated yet.
Only one male thinks he might be welcomed back onto his home planet. He’ll contact them soon and one of the ships will reunite him with his kin if that’s the plan. The others were either sold into slavery by their families or will be outcasts when they return after such long incarcerations. Of course, we all know none of the Earth women can return home.
There’s a perfectly good compound on Fairea. Shadow is confident he could forge a bill of sale giving us rightful ownership. It has a fully-equipped medical facility, a ludus, space vessels, gardens, and plenty of housing. These people could be self-sufficient in the compound if they want, but they’re also close to hospitals, markets, and merchants.
One of the males informed us he’s a trained medic and will be able to continue the care Dr. Drayke started for all the males and females who will settle there. There are many settlements on Fairea, including the one that has the Renaissance-like fair. So everyone has the freedom to stay in the compound or relocate some
where else.
Most of the newcomers are so traumatized they can’t think much farther than having a safe place to sleep every night, but a few mentioned they might have skills that will come in handy on the planet. Dawn, a perky girl with the slightest southern accent asked if she could raise chickens. If circumstances were different, we could probably be friends.
There’s a great deal of discussion, especially about the fact that they all experienced abuse of some sort down there.
“The land didn’t harm us, nor did the buildings,” Abraxx says. He seems to be in the best shape of all the rescued gladiators. He has thick ropes of flesh on his head instead of hair. “And the people who did harm us are dead.” He’s not a big talker, but he seems particularly happy to have said that last sentence.
“We can put all that behind us,” Naomi says as she primly sits in her chair, acting as if it’s a throne. She’s the oldest on board, looking to be in her 40s. “There are numerous ways for us to earn money there, and the compound is easily defensible, that’s why Khour owned it.”
One of the other new women, Melodie, mentioned Naomi had regular private meetings with Khour. Although she looks innocent, something tells me there’s more to her than meets the eye.
Soon, all the newcomers are in agreement with the idea of claiming the compound on Fairea as their own. No one feels trapped or without choices, which was the deciding factor for everyone.
“All right,” Zar says seriously as he reorganizes his papers, “let’s put this to a vote.”
Although I wouldn’t have thought a room full of this many people could arrive at a unanimous decision, that’s exactly what happens.
“We’ve been through a lot,” Dawn, one of the new women says, her voice pregnant with unspoken meaning, “I've been researching Fairea since I’ve boarded the ship. Humans aren’t illegal there. Perhaps once we get our shit together we could be a beacon of hope for not just humans, but any who escape their cruel masters. I’d like to call our new home Sanctuary.”
A little thrill zings through me as I imagine what it would feel like if I hadn’t been rescued. If I had been a slave on some planet with an awful master and one day someone whispered the word ‘sanctuary’ to me. It would be like a secret hope I could nurture in my heart. It would have given me the will to survive, the desire to live.
“I love the name,” I say loudly. It’s my first comment of the day, but I repeat it, “I love it.”
While everyone is agreeing, Beast interrupts to say, “We’ve got our work cut out for us. We want the newcomers to have the best start possible. We’re not leaving this sector until the compound is clean and functional.”
“If I’d known this was going to happen,” Stryker announces loudly, “I wouldn’t have painted every wall in every room with my enemy’s arterial spray.”
Gross as that is, I find it hilarious. So does everyone else.
~.~
“How come we’re the lucky ones assigned to this room?” I ask as I look around Daneur Khour’s bedroom—or what’s left of it.
“You saw yourself that they pulled names out of a kitchen pot.”
“I still wonder if they rigged it somehow,” I grouse.
“Consider yourself lucky that a few of the gladiators volunteered to remove all the bodies first.”
“Right. Glass half full.”
He cocks his head with a quizzical look.
“There’s always something to be thankful for,” I amend.
Although there are no dead bodies in this room, there's a lot of blood. From where the wooden wall was sprayed with laser fire, there are enough shards to build a life-sized model of the empire state building.
“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” I say, even though I know Bayne won’t understand a word of it. This is our fourth day on Fairea and all we’ve done is clean up the mess from the attack. My arms ache and I’m sick of the sight—and smell—of blood.
“We’re making progress,” Bayne says without complaint.
“I know, but when we hovered past the Fair area I thought it would be fun to attend. All we’ve been doing is working.”
He says nothing, just keeps shoveling wood chips into trash bags, but I suddenly listen to the words coming out of my mouth. I’m complaining about a little cleanup work when the males I care about almost lost their lives here? I clamp my whiney little lips together and redouble my efforts.
“I like everyone on the Fool’s Errand,” Bayne says abruptly. He’s not a big talker, so I have a feeling something important is coming. “Same with the Devil’s Playground.”
“Me, too.”
“But I’m thinking we have an opportunity we should consider. All the new people will be staying on Fairea, and I’m wondering if we should stay, too.”
I shove the last of Daneur Khour’s clothes into a trash bag and turn to look at Bayne.
“I think I would like it here. We could make a home for ourselves. WarDog could run and play. I could hunt. We could create . . . a family here. It wouldn’t work as well on a ship; that would be hard for canines.” His gaze pierces mine. He’s serious.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” I hedge. Then I wonder why this hasn’t already occurred to me. I’m a farm girl—born and bred. I like to tend herds of animals and gardens. There was nothing—not one job—that was a fit for me on the Fool.
And WarDog. Of course, the big lug would do better gamboling in a forest than traipsing the metal corridors of a ship.
Bayne must think I hate the idea, because he presses on. “We don’t know any of these people, but we will. We didn’t know anyone on the Fool's Errand or the Devil’s Playground a few lunars ago either. This will give us both a fresh start.” He looks at me, his golden eyes alight with passion.
My mind bounces back to one word he used—family.
“Create a family, Bayne? We’ve never talked about it.”
His jaw slackens and his face falls. “You don’t want babes?” he asks, incredulous and sad. His gaze flicks back and forth across my face as if he’s trying to discover if perhaps he read me wrong.
“Yes, I want babes. I want happy babes and mischievous toddlers and sullen teens. I want it all. And I want pets, and herds of animals that would be right at home in all those barns and fields, and corrals out there.
“And I want you, Bayne.” I add softly, “You promised me a mating ceremony.” I want to press my palm to his beautiful cheek, but don’t want to sully him with a hand that just touched something belonging to Daneur Khour.
“Yes, Love. It just seemed you were so tired every night from cleaning up the compound.”
I pout, wondering if he’ll laugh at my hurt feelings, but he takes me seriously. “Tonight,” he promises. “No matter how tired we might be, we’ll mate tonight.”
He steps over a pile of pillows, gently lifts my chin with one finger, and leans to kiss me.
“Yes, Love, tonight.” Happiness bolts through me.
~.~
“So this big mating ceremony we’ve been putting off, it involves no other people?”
“No.”
“No officiant?”
“No.”
“But we’ll be taking off our clothes?” I lift one eyebrow and notice funny feelings swirling in my tummy, and below. We’re kind of joking, but it also feels like foreplay.
“No clothes will be worn during this ceremony,” he nods seriously.
“In your culture it’s the sex that binds you? But we’ve already had sex.”
He takes a deep breath. No, I’d call it heaving a sigh.
“You’re not inspiring confidence, Bayne.”
“On Skylose, mates in my tribe have sex, and during sex the male bites the female. It’s at that moment the two develop a mindlink they share for eternity. The few males of my tribe who mated with Skylosian non-shifters turned their mates into shifters this way.”
He pauses a moment for that thought to sink in. He’s still waiting for my re
sponse, but nothing is sinking in. Mindlink? Is that a psychic connection? Okay, that might be cool. Didn’t I envy Dr. Drayke and Nova? I saw them working on Bayne and thought it was amazing how they communicated wordlessly like a well-oiled machine.
But shifting? I’d be a . . . dog? A very big dog? I remember the pain he was in after he shifted on Aeon II.
“Will it hurt?”
“To be honest, I don’t know if you’ll shift. You’re not from Skylose. I don’t even know if we’ll develop the mindlink.”
I look at my sweet mate as we sit at the little corner table in the cabin we share. Could I love him any more than I already do? I can’t imagine it. Would I change even one thing about him if I could? Absolutely not. If he came to me as a mate without his inner canine, would that be better? No! Instead of making our relationship richer, it would be poorer, by far.
