Paradise Forgotten Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  She sits back down on the bed and combs through her hair. "You can't. Listen to me for a minute. I only have one informant left in Kyro."

  "What happened to the others?" Silver asks as he tosses boxes of ammunition and a canteen into his backpack. "You sent fifteen."

  "That's what I'm trying to tell you. Hector is on to us. He rounded up all but one of my informants and put them in crates. He put them out in the middle of the desert where they died of heatstroke and dehydration. Those informants were the highest trained men in the galaxy. Not only that, but Hector has started shooting down any aircraft that enters his airspace without authorization."

  "Then I'll go on a horse. I'll walk there if I have to. I can't let that sick pervert have Paris!"

  "If you go to Kyro and get caught, no one will have Paris." Mistress says.

  Silver slides his combat knife into the sheath on his belt. "What do you mean?"

  "The last remaining informant is a member of Hector's inner circle. There has been an order issued to all the guards and spies to be on high alert for anyone from our guild. If Hector finds any evidence of our involvement in trying to save Paris or infiltrate the country, he will have him killed."

  "I can't think straight right now. Put it in simple terms."

  "If you get spotted in Kyro, Hector will kill Paris. Apparently, Hector hated himself for getting rid of Paris years ago. Now he's not going to let him go. Paris is being held as Hector's personal pet and he's by his side every minute of the day. Storming into Kyro will only put Paris in more danger."

  Silver holds his bullet necklace in his hand and sits on the bed next to her. "Death would be an act of mercy at this point."

  Mistress rubs his shoulders. "I promise I will work all night and for as long as it takes in order to get him some help. When things calm down, I will speak with Chancellor Samuels of the IGR to devise a plan. He won't stand for the leader of a country treating a child like that. With the IGR military, we can launch an investigation and go to whatever lengths necessary to get Paris out of there the right way."

  Investigation? Investigations take time. "And how long will all that take?"

  "There's no way to know for sure, but it could take a year or more for all the paperwork to go through."

  "Paris doesn't have a year." Silver says. "I saw what PTSD can do to people with Jayce. I tried to be the best husband I could be for him. I've been trying to be the best father for Paris."

  "Father? Oh. Now I understand."

  "Paris is my son in every way except blood." Silver brushes Mistress's hands away and grabs his rifle from the table. "That's why I can't sit here and do nothing. I'm going to Kyro. If I die trying, at least I can say I tried. I already failed my other two children. Nova died without knowing the love I had for her and God knows where Zodiac is. I have to make this right for the one child I can."

  "No! You can't. I can't lose you. I love you!" Mistress gasps and covers her mouth with her hand.

  What did she just say? Silver sets his rifle back down and stares at her as her face turns pink and tears swell in her eyes. "Mistress . . ."

  "Forget about it. Just leave. If you want to go get yourself killed, then be my guest. It's not like I care."

  This meeting has certainly taken a different turn. He doesn't know what to say. She loves him? When did that happen? He's sure he hasn't done anything to make her feel that those emotions were mutual. Doesn't she know? "Cleo, I'm gay."

  "I know. I'm sorry. Gods, I'm so stupid. I don't know what possessed me to say that."

  Now he's curious. "Is it true?"

  She looks up at him and wipes the tears from her eyes. "It can't be. I'm an idiot."

  Silver walks over to her and pushes her up against the headboard. Her warm breath on his face draws him closer. "You're not an idiot. I learned many years ago to never hide the way I feel. However, I also learned not to pretend to feel something I don't. I can always test it again." He leans close and kisses her lips then gathers her hair in his hand and slips his tongue in her mouth. He closes his eyes and tries everything he can think of to make this work. When he throws her down on the bed and feels her under him, he instantly knows this isn't right. Silver can't be the dominant one.

  Mistress seems to sense this. She rolls him over and sits on his waist. "I'll take control. You like that, don't you?"

  "Um . . ."

  She digs her fingernails into his arm roughly. "Did I say you get to speak? You will lie there and be silent."

  Silver smiles. Oh? What is this side of her? He feels her unbuckle his belt and begin using her soft warm hands on him. Even though his mind is intrigued by her dominance, his body is conflicted.

  "What's wrong?" Mistress asks. "You look miserable."

  Is it that obvious? "Okay, enough. Stop." He pushes her off of his legs and fixes his pants. "I can't do this."

  "But I-"

  "Don't get me wrong. You are very talented for a virgin, but I can't. I've never been with a woman and I can't start now."

  "Is this because of Jayce?"

  He gives her a warning glare. "Don't bring him into this."

  "It's okay to move on. He's dead, Silver. Jayce doesn't matter anymore."

  And just with that last sentence, any attraction he had for her is extinguished and all arousal leaves his body. Silver slings his backpack on his shoulder and picks up his rifle. "You just said the worst thing you could say to me. If you have the balls to say that to my face, then maybe I could be into you if you weren't so heartless. Find another assassin to take my place. I'm finished here. I quit." He unlocks the door and leaves the room.

  Mistress runs after him. "Silver, stop! I didn't mean it. Where are you going? Jarred!"

  "To Athens to turn myself in."

  "They'll kill you!"

  "Good. Then I'll get to join the love of my life who, according to you, doesn't matter."

  * * *

  Even though the chain around his ankle is made of pure gold, it is still a chain. Paris holds his knees to his chest as he sits on the foot of the large bed. All around him are signs of overwhelming wealth and luxury from tall vases filled with exotic plants to oil paintings of sailboats on the ocean, brightly colored tapestries, and marble statues of ancient Egyptian gods. The familiar scent of nutmeg and cloves tingles his nose. Of course all of this is familiar to Paris. After all, he has been here before. Being thrust back into this lavish hell after so many years of freedom renders him utterly hopeless.

  The cool air from the air conditioner makes him uncomfortably aware of his complete nakedness. The rings in his nipples and his belly button are cold against his skin and the piercings still hurt, even hours later. Another slave had taken him from the harem, where the nice women had tried to protect him to no avail, and bathed him. His long black waves of hair have been straightened. The bitter taste of lipstick on his lips and the heaviness of the mascara on his eyelashes make him cringe. He even smells like a woman with a sickeningly sweet strawberry perfume all over his body. What little body hair he did have has been removed with hot wax and his fingernails and toenails have been painted the same shade of dark red as his lipstick.

  Paris clutches his stomach. He hasn't had anything to eat in nearly two days and the last thing he ate was that candy with Silver in the guild hall. He knows from the last time he was here that he won't be given any food for two weeks at least. If he's too weak from hunger to fight back, Hector can do whatever he wants. But Paris isn't going to fight. He isn't going to pretend that he can stop it. Struggling only leads to being beaten and used more brutally than if he submits. He jumps a bit when the door opens and Hector, dressed in only a short purple silk robe, enters the room with a dark grin on his face.

  Hector closes the door then secures the five electronic locks so no one can get in . . . and no one can get out. He reeks of alcohol. The large man kneels down in front of Paris and runs his calloused hands up the inside of his legs. "Ah, you look beautiful, Paris. It has been far too long sin
ce I've been able to touch you like this." Hector touches Paris's forehead and follows the pink burn all the way down to his hips. "Have you missed me? Tell me you've missed me."

  Paris's voice sounds tiny and foreign even to himself. "Yes, Master Hector. I've missed you."

  Hector flicks the gold rings adorning Paris's nipples. "Then be a good boy and show me how happy you are to be back. What are you waiting for? Remove my robe."

  Paris's fingers tremble as he touches the rough silk. "Yes, Master."

  * * *

  The night is dark in the desert, especially tonight when both moons are new moons. The Milky Way is bright, though. It's too quiet for Silver's tastes so he switches off the silencer and takes aim at a fennec fox that peeks out of its burrow in the side of a sand dune. The shot echoes in the vast emptiness. The figure on his thermal imaging slowly fades to black. He slides another cartridge into the chamber and scans the far-stretching sea of sand for anything that moves. When he finds nothing to fill with bullets, he lies back on top of the bunker of the guild hall and aims at the glittering star directly above him. Earth's sun.

  If he could, he would destroy it and all the memories that continue to haunt him even from so far away. He has been trying to create a new life out here, forgetting his children, his husband, and his crimes. But only now has he finally accepted that he can't. Deep down, he is still only Jarred Cunningham.

  An orphan, homeless, disowned by his father for his sexuality, a murderer, a thief, a con artist, an assassin, a soldier of fortune, and a criminal. These all describe him, but they are not what he chooses to be defined as. He prefers to be known as a dreamer, a romantic, a passionate lover, a caring soul, and a father. That last one stings. Even though he never planned to have children and fathered both Zodiac and Nova unwillingly or unknowingly, Silver had still tried. He had tried to be the best father he could be, but after all of that . . . he ended up abandoning both of them just like his father abandoned him.

  Silver didn't get a chance to ask his father why he was so upset and beat him for expressing his attraction to boys. He was only Paris's age when he first became aware of it. It had seemed so innocent and normal that he didn't know there were people who would hate him for it and actively seek out to humiliate him. He could have dealt with that if it had come from a stranger or even the kids at school, but coming from his own father who had been his best friend . . . it devastated him. His parents died a week later in a car accident. It was then that he received another cruel blow. He had been disowned, cut from his father's will, and forced to live on the streets with only this rifle and some cash he found under the mattress in his parents' room.

  This rifle has been with him for thirty years. Jayce named it René, meaning rebirth in French. At first, he hadn't thought much of it. Looking back, Jayce was right. Picking up his father's rifle and deciding to live his own life the way he wanted, Silver was able to attain his own form of rebirth.

  A sound to his left makes him sit up and he looks through his scope. The form in his thermal imaging looks like a human. Who would be out walking in the desert in the middle of the night? No one decent. He readies his rifle and fires a warning shot into the sand.

  The man screams a humorously high pitched squeal. "Don't shoot! I'm a friend. Fratrum, Historiam, Opes!"

  Silver lowers his rifle. How does he know the password? That's the motto of the Eremos Excavation Guild. Is this stranger one of Mistress's agents? He stands up and calls out to the man. "State your name."

  The thin man with glasses steps into the lantern light. "Atlas. I'm Atlas Adonis from Athens. I need to speak to someone named Silver immediately."

  Adonis? Interesting. "You're in luck, boy. My name is Silver. Don't tell me you're Troy's brother."

  "Why are you shooting things?" Atlas asks.

  "I was upset."

  "You shoot things when you're upset?"

  "Uh . . . yeah. You gun shy or something?"

  Atlas unwinds the scarf from around his neck. "Never mind. Take me inside so we can speak in private. The information I'm bringing you is highly valuable and many people want me dead because of what I stole."

  "You stole something valuable?" Silver asks. "Are you sure you're not a member of this guild? You'd fit in nicely I think."

  "Please. It's nothing to joke about. The lives of many people are in my hands."

  10

  "You two are the new ones so I'll explain how we work around here. First, I have your slave collars." Master Khalid holds up two thick leather collars with small silver disks on the inside. He secures them around Troy's and Orion's necks. "These slave collars allow my workers to move freely between the stables, the work site, and the city. As long as you two stick together and don't do anything to tarnish my trust, you are free to go into town for your own supplies and to buy food with the stipend I give all of my workers. It's much more cost effective than cooking for all of them every meal. You get breakfast. You must purchase anything else on your own. You will earn your first money after today's work. Don't try to pull any cunning escapes. If you pass beyond the walls surrounding the country, your collar will send a lethal shock into your bodies and you will die. They also have tracking devices in them so I can keep up with you and ensure you aren't getting into trouble. I know what you're thinking. Why do I give my slaves so much freedom? Because they work better when they have a sense of individuality and liberty. From tonight on, the gate for your stall in the stable will remain unlocked so you can find some women or men, get a drink at the tavern, or go have a nice meal. The only stipulation is that you have to be back in your stall by sunrise. Now, do either of you have any experience with ruin exploration?"

  Orion gives a short bow. "I do, Master. I was an agent at the Eremos Excavation Guild for five years. I was a ruins scout. I recently acquired Troy as my slave, but didn't get to teach him much. I can explain everything to him."

  Master Khalid grins and rubs his short black beard. "Wonderful. I knew there was a reason I bought you. Money well spent. Just for that, you get this." He digs in the pouch on his belt and hands a silver coin to Troy. "Spend it well. You see, punishments aren't the only things that are placed on your partner. Rewards are given to the other as well so it encourages teamwork for the benefit of each other."

  At least it's not another beating this time. Troy slips the coin into one of the folds of his white turban and meets eyes with his owner. A tense few seconds pass by as they stare at each other. Troy mentally braces himself for the incoming slap for looking at him in the eyes, but Master Khalid only smiles and thrusts a backpack into Troy's arms.

  "Take this. It has your equipment. Troy, you will carry everything and let Orion lead the way because he has more experience with scouting. Go eat breakfast with the other slaves then head down into the ruins. Have fun. I expect a full report when you get done for the day."

  Troy and Orion walk side by side down the path from the stables to an open area where ten other pairs of slaves are gathered around a long table eating oatmeal and talking amongst themselves. One pair is obviously more than friends as one of the men sits in the other's lap and feeds him. A few of the slaves watch Troy and Orion closely as they sit at the end at the only empty places. Troy sets the bag down on the floor and ravenously devours his bowl of oatmeal.

  "Whoa. I've never seen you eat that much." Orion says. "You were starving, huh?"

  He stares down into his empty bowl and feels a hollow space in his stomach still begging for food. "I think I still am."

  "Well, you got that coin. After we work a bit, we'll go into town and you can get more to eat."

  "What about you?" Troy asks.

  Orion stuffs another spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth. "You took three beatings for me yesterday. I owe you that much."

  "Thanks."

  "It's nothing."

  As he waits for Orion to finish eating, Troy watches a white ibis soaring through the light blue sky. The heat is already making him sweat, but the thin grey clo
thes help to keep him cool enough. Heat waves dance on the sand as the sun rises higher. Thin wispy clouds glide high up in the atmosphere. This truly is a beautiful country. But despite the aesthetic nature and vibrant colors, a veil of darkness hangs over Troy's mind. The longer he stays in this country, the tighter the memories encase him, suffocating him, and attempt to drag him under the surface of his sanity. He didn't sleep at all last night. The exotic fragrances lingering in the air only serve to draw his thoughts back to that fateful night three years ago. Is the wine cellar still stained with blood? Maybe the workers believed it was only a Merlot that had leaked out onto the floor.

  "Damn, Troy. You look terrible."

  Troy rubs his eyes. "Yeah. Let's get to work. I don't want to upset Master Khalid on the first day."

  "So you're prepared to be a slave for the rest of your life?"

  "Nothing has changed for me. Before being brought here, I was forced to accept that I was going to be your slave forever."

  "You know, if we somehow make it out of here and go back to our lives as they were, you will still be my slave. You've been marked with my nose ring. The papers showing ownership are still in my room at the guild hall."

  "But here, you are a slave as well." Troy takes a drink of his water.

  "Not as low as you."

  Troy's eyes narrow as he glares at him. "What do you mean by that?"

  "I'm still better than you. Don't take that in the wrong way, but it's true. As long as you do what I say, we won't have any problems."

  He sets his cup down on the table. "Is that a threat?"

  "Face the facts, Troy. You're a Forgotten. No one cares about you anymore. You're worthless. Only your masters give you any amount of value. You should be thanking me for making you my slave."

  "Oh? So are you going to thank Master Khalid for branding you and making you sleep in a stable like an animal?"

  "No. Because I don't deserve to be treated like this." Orion says smugly.

  "And you think I do?"

  "All you pretentious nobles need to be knocked down a peg or two."