by Jayne Ripley
“You will have to make do,” the voice replied. “The two of you can keep in shape by fucking your concubine, I don’t care. That’s what she’s there for.”
Nahkar crossed his huge arms over his broad chest. His voice was a dangerous rumble like an approaching storm. “You say the Terran female is for both of us. What makes you think I’d be willing to share my female with my competitor? She belongs to me.”
Belonged to him? His arrogance was outrageous. “Hey! I’m standing right here, jerk! I don’t belong to anyone but me.”
Everyone ignored her.
She clenched her fists in frustration. She wanted to scream. Males! They were all the same, from one end of the galaxy to the other. They were all arrogant, selfish, blundering idiots.
Oh yeah, did she mention arrogant? They were the worst.
“You both fought for her,” the voice said off-handedly. “So share her. Or don’t. I’ve invested enough in you already, so I won’t be buying you other concubine slaves. I want to see some dividends before sinking any more credits into either of you. Buying you and keeping you from the prison mines was a risk for me. I expect large rewards. As for the Terran girl, I can easily sell her again if it’s a problem.” The voice took on a musing quality. “Or I could simply use her for myself…”
A savage growl escaped from Nahkar’s throat. It startled her with its raw ferocity. His teeth were bared, his big fists clenched. He looked ready to punch his way through walls. He reminded her of a huge bear. A huge, snarly, really very scary bear.
“Never,” was the only thing Nahkar said. That one word held a deep warning. It also held a promise of defiance and retribution.
“You heard my friend,” Darkon added. “No.”
Her body betrayed her. That simple word had her heart racing because they were both defying this new “master.” Maybe she shouldn’t be pleased that they were riding to her defense, announcing that they were protecting her from their owner’s bed. She was a strong woman. She ran her own business back on Earth. She could take care of herself.
And yet, their defiance on her behalf made her tingle all the way through her body. It made her ache deep inside. Stole her breath away. Filled her with elation and relief and had her blinking back sudden tears.
Their owner only laughed at the warning in their words. “I thought you might disagree. You know the consequences now, so stay in your luxury suite until the next Aixen Arena battle. Don’t kill each other over the female or I’ll give her back to the Jandami slavers.”
All her emotions suddenly took a nosedive into fear and worry again. Give her back to the lizard-alien slavers with their shock whips, chains, and slave collars? Anything had to be better than being penned up in a windowless cell with a dozen other slaves.
“You will not do that,” Nahkar warned.
Darkon gave a dangerous smile. “Try it and you’ll end up as dead as those slavers.”
“It sounds like you are both in agreement,” the voice said wryly. “Good. But I warn you now, do not test me. Keep out of trouble. Win your next fights and make me richer. Life should be simple and sweet for you. If you behave, I’ll get your confinement ruling lifted.” Now the voice turned as dangerous-sounding as Nahkar’s. “Never forget that you might play brutal savages for the crowds and holo-screens, but you are only an investment to me, nothing more. You are property, owned by me now. Cost me anything more and each of you will regret it in a different way. That is my promise.”
The speakers went dead. There was nothing more from the voice. No goodbye. No “signing off.”
Only a threat and then silence.
Darkon smirked at the ceiling. “Savages? Our new owner doesn’t have much in the way of manners.” He turned those flashing, amused eyes to Jennifer. He swept into some kind of bow. It was courtly, different from anything she’d seen on Earth and yet similar in charm and elegance. “And neither do we, it seems.”
Her cheeks heated as she blushed.
“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” Darkon continued, walking to her and taking her hand. His blue skin felt like warm silk against hers. Heat swirled through her body, pooling in her tightening core. “I am Darkon Trava. I am honored to meet you.”
Nahkar walked over and arched a dark eyebrow at him. “You are touching my mate.”
Darkon smiled and released her hand. “So I am. She feels divine. I have no regrets.”
“Watch yourself, Quindon,” Nahkar warned, glowering at him. He grabbed Jennifer’s hand and yanked her toward him. He pulled her tight against his hard body. “I am Nahkar—”
His words stopped when she slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Her hand immediately hurt, pin-needles of pain shooting through it. She bit back a curse to keep from showing just how much it had hurt. It had been like slapping a granite mountain.
“Don’t go manhandling me just because I’m a woman,” Jennifer warned him. “I don’t know what all this ‘mate’ nonsense is, but I’m sick and tired of being kidnapped and chained up and dragged around and called a slave.” She pointed a finger at his broad, rough-featured face. “So don’t you piss me off too, bucko! I expect to be treated like a lady, or you both are going to regret it.”
Darkon’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he glanced at Nahkar. “This Terran female has the true fire. I don’t know whether to pity you or feel jealous.”
“Feel jealous,” Nahkar said, rubbing his cheek where she’d hit him. He paused, seeming to look at her in a new light. The intensity in his gaze was still there. He still looked like he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off somewhere private. But she could see she had earned his attention at least.
That was good because right now her heart was pounding so hard she could feel her temples throbbing. Her knees felt all wobbly. And her stomach fluttered like she had swallowed a hundred moths. She didn’t usually hold with hitting people, but she was so tired of being treated like property that she needed to get some attention. She wasn’t going to be ignored again.
Nahkar was watching her, but he didn’t look angry. He seemed…pleased? “You were right to chastise me, Jennifer Smith. I should not have treated a Terran that way. I…apologize.”
Darkon appeared impressed as he watched Nahkar. Jennifer got the feeling that the big warrior wasn’t known for apologizing often. A thrill went through her from head to toe. For the first time since her abduction, she felt like she had won something.
“Okay. Good,” she said after taking a deep breath. “Now, what exactly is a Terran?”
Nahkar frowned as if she’d asked an absurd question. “Terra is the name of your homeworld. For your species. You are known as Terrans.”
“Have other humans—I mean Terrans—been abducted before?”
Darkon gave her a sympathetic look. “Yes. They are rare, as the Sol System is not near a jump gate or a galactic trade route. But occasionally Jandami slavers make a trip there to fulfill a quota or a special order.”
A special order. God, had some alien “special ordered” a human woman and it had been her bad luck to be alone in the hills on that fateful night? She must have the worst luck in the universe.
Nahkar was staring at Darkon with narrowed eyes as if wondering why Darkon knew so much. Or maybe he was still upset that their owner had given her to both of them. Which wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
“You have a lot to learn, Jennifer Smith,” Darkon said softly. “And not much time to learn it.” He glanced at Nahkar, and his expression was grave. “The three of us must have a talk.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Darkon
How much should he tell them?
Darkon had always been a competitor with Nahkar, but they had been friends too. Aixen Arena fighters only competed on points and popularity on the holoscreen broadcasts. Arena fighters never battled each other as they did in the Outer Spirals of the galaxy, a place far from imperial law. Instead, they fought predators, alien monstrosities, and dangerous be
asts as big as cargo containers. Most times they won. Sometimes they died. But they did not fight each another to the death.
He was no fool. He knew the reason why was only because it would depreciate all those “corporate assets” too quickly and render too many contracts useless. A dead fighter wasn’t making anyone any more credits. This was all about wealth and power. He knew the game better than most.
So there was no easy answer to how much Darkon should reveal to Nahkar and Jennifer. Nahkar was the premier fighter in the arena. Darkon was a close second, but he’d never been able to catch Nahkar on points. The Ikestran was a fighting genius in the arena. He could not be stopped. But that hadn’t ever dissuaded Darkon from trying to beat him.
After all, wasn’t Darkon here right now because of Nahkar and Jennifer? Because Darkon was too foolish and high-minded to let his friend get into trouble with the slavers without rushing to help him? And because a pretty female was involved and needed help. Oh, and he’d thought it would be exciting too, let’s not forget that.
Those ideals had no place in the arena. Helping others, standing by your friends—those were ideals that came from Darkon’s past. They came from a time when he’d been of the high blood, trained with the sacred spear, and sworn to uphold the throne’s honor and his duty to the Quindon people.
That had been a long time ago. Long before he’d donned the mask in the arena to hide who he was. Now, with holo-vids of their slaver fight making the rounds through the subspace net, he wouldn’t be surprised if enemies from his past were closing in on him right now. He didn’t want to drag Jennifer or Nahkar into his problems.
Which meant that he needed to talk with Masyra as soon as possible. She lived here on the station out of a misguided sense of loyalty to him and to what he’d once represented. Masyra still had contacts back on Ketera. Contacting her was always risky though. It was even riskier now that he’d been confined to this fancy suite high in the palace tower. These rooms might be luxurious beyond words, but the suite was still only a fancy cell.
His brain was racing ahead of him, so he put those thoughts on hold. He would worry about contacting Masyra later. Right now, he needed the three of them on the same side. His side. So he needed to be honest with them. To a point. After all, the three of them were in this together, like it or not.
“Jennifer,” he said softly, looking into her blue eyes. “I am so sorry this happened to you.” He gestured at Nahkar. “We both know what it is like to be a slave, to be owned. I was free once. Sadly, I let my guard down in Brav Medere once and ended up with my ship stolen, my imperial identification stolen, and my hindquarters on the auction block.”
She stared at him with those big, soft Terran eyes. They were such a pretty shade of blue. It wasn’t an eye color found among the Quindon, despite their blue-shaded skin. He could feel the sympathy radiating off her. She truly was a warm and kind creature. It made him like her even more.
“What happened to you?” she asked. “Did a space ship capture you too?”
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “No, not exactly. Well…it’s not really a story for polite company.”
Nahkar gave a big guffaw and slapped him on the back. He smacked Darkon on the back so hard he nearly knocked him over one of the tables.
Darkon wasn’t about to complain though. At least Nahkar seemed to have calmed down some. It was better than Nahkar seeing Darkon as a threat to steal Jennifer from him. But Nahkar didn’t know much about the Quindon. His people were perfectly happy with threesomes and even foursomes in relationships.
So this was going to be interesting.
Luckily, Nahkar had no idea what he was thinking right now or there would be trouble. He only grinned at Darkon and said, “Those are the best stories! You’ve never even told me how you ended up here. Tell us, my friend.”
Jennifer reached out and touched Darkon’s arm gently. He felt his groin tighten and his breathing catch for a second when she placed those delicate fingers on him. He wasn’t Ikestran, so he shouldn’t feel the mara vrhon. So why did it feel like he was?
“Please,” Jennifer said. “I’d like to know your story. It would make me feel better. Make me feel less…alone.”
Nahkar’s expression darkened when Jennifer touched him, but for once, he didn’t say anything. Darkon had to bite back a smile. Perhaps Nahkar feared another Terran slap and reprimand. Not that Darkon could blame him, but it was amusing.
“Very well,” Darkon replied. “I hope you don’t think less of me after hearing it. It happened many years ago when I was still this handsome but far, far stupider.”
“Not possible, my friend,” Nahkar grumbled.
Darkon ignored him. “As I said, I was on Brav Medere, in the capital city. I had been taking work as a security escort for shipping caravans. An independently bonded fighter escort. I was a damn good pilot too.”
Nahkar looked impressed. “You had your own ship?”
He’d had more than that. Once upon a time, he’d had a small fleet of ships. But after he’d been betrayed, he’d only managed to escape in one small fighter with space-jump capabilities. He’d only managed that escape because of loyalists who refused to turn him over during the palace coup. Heroes like Masyra and others.
Jennifer glanced back and forth between them. Her cute brow furrowed into a frown. “Is that a big deal? I assumed all aliens had spaceships.”
Darkon gave her a cocky grin. “Only the best have them. Ships are expensive and complex. So it really killed me when mine was stolen.”
“If I had a ship,” Nahkar said grimly. “It would only be taken from me over my cold corpse.”
Darkon tried not to roll his eyes at the bravado.
“How did they take your ship, Darkon?” Jennifer asked, her tone guileless and genuinely concerned. That made it all the more awkward for him to actually give her the details.
By the five gods of Vakar, he was starting to hate the turn this conversation had taken.
“Well, I had finished a big job,” Darkon said, deciding there was no way around it, so he might as well charge on through. Besides, he thought it would be good for a laugh and to lighten the mood. “A Quindon such as myself can, on occasion, grow restless after an extended time away from female company.”
It was working. Nahkar smirked at him as if this was the most amusing thing in the galaxy. “A whore stole your ship?”
“No,” he shot back, glaring. “She was a thief, not a whore. There’s a difference. Don’t get ahead of my story.” He cleared his throat. “So I met this Mirydian beauty in one of the golmech taverns.” He paused, trying to come up with a delicate way to put it in mixed company. “I was interested in her. I thought she was interested in me. She showed how interested she was by drugging my Anduros ale. I passed out and woke up on a Jandami ship in chains. They took everything and sold me off.”
“You were shanghaied,” Jennifer said solemnly. She didn’t seem amused by the story at all. In fact, she seemed more sympathetic than ever. Jennifer also didn’t seem affronted that he’d been looking to get fucked at the time, which had made him particularly careless. He decided he liked that about her. He liked females who enjoyed pleasure, enjoyed the treasures of their bodies, and who didn’t act like wilting kotera flowers when the subject of sexual pleasure arose.
It had been a dark time in his life too. For all his friends had known at the time, he had simply disappeared. Vanished in a vast galaxy. It wasn’t until years later—after he’d been re-sold twice and ended up being thrown into arena fighting—that Masyra had finally found him here at Quasarask Station.
“I don’t know the word ‘shanghaied,’” Darkon told her. The translators had only used a loose approximation—something that meant kidnapped. “But yes, I was taken against my will and lost my freedom.”
His identification papers had been forged and false, which they seemed to have known. But that was because of his exile and his desperate escape from his homeworld. It had given h
im no rights. No way to be free of the chains around him or prove that he was actually a citizen of the Grand Daxai Empire.
So that was why he was here now. And that was one of the reasons he hadn’t hesitated to join Nahkar when his friend lost his mind, went mating crazed, and attacked the slavers.
He had wanted to kill the Jandami. He had a longstanding grudge against the slavers. He’d been fooling himself that he had ever been able to put it behind him. So maybe he hadn’t been helping Nahkar or Jennifer as much as he’d told himself at the time.
Maybe he’d been far less of a hero.
Jennifer’s eyes had teared up as he’d shared his sad, stupid story. He could feel the empathy coming off her in waves. It surprised him. He actually admired her for it. He wasn’t sure he could have been as empathetic in the months after he had first lost his freedom. Terrans might not be very big, but they seemed to have great big hearts. Or at least their particular Terran did.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice sounding choked. “I know exactly how you feel. It’s…hard.”
By the five gods, this female truly was something else. He suspected her story was far different than his tale of woe. He’d let his cock lead him to his downfall and complete his utter ruin. But he nodded anyway as if he deserved her sympathy. The fact was, he liked having her attention. That bastard Nahkar could suck him. Jennifer was focused on him now, and he loved it. It pleased him that she felt there was a connection between them, a shared experience. He also felt strangely touched that she hadn’t laughed at him. Nahkar had laughed, but Nahkar was a dumb mountain of muscle, so what could you expect?
