by Aline Ash
Once we are done with the Gargolians, we rush towards the spaceport. I spot the Gerr’a Justice Production ship and point to it. With only eighteen others besides myself, crewing a ship that size might be difficult, but we’ll find a way to make it work. We have to.
“There!” I call out. “We need to get to that ship. Now!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Marissa
My head is pounding when I open my eyes, and I’m disoriented. I’m staring straight up at a blindingly white ceiling, wondering where the hell I am and how I got here. But then as I start to come back to myself, the pieces start falling into place and my memories come rushing back.
“The baby,” I gasp.
I try to move my hands but find that they’re restrained. I’m tied to a fucking bed somewhere. I howl in rage and thrash against the bonds holding me, but they won’t give.
“They’re sonic binders,” a woman says in English. “It’ll do you no good.”
I turn my head and see a human woman with dark hair, a dusky complexion, and sparkling green eyes. She’s gorgeous, and I wonder if this is the woman Tara saw in the healers’ bay when she was in.
“Who are you?” I ask the dark-haired woman.
“I’m Eva,” she says as her eyes well with tears. “And you?”
“Marissa.” I take a deep breath and let it out, trying to slow my racing heart and calm down as I take stock of myself. Nothing feels like it’s missing, and I don’t feel as if I’ve had any sort of surgical procedure. I feel whole and relatively healthy still. So, I’ve got that going for me.
“What’s going on, Eva?” I ask.
“I guess you’re going to be Bruc’s new whore. Thank God!” She pauses and looks at me with regret. “I’m sorry, Marissa. I know it’s wrong, but I feel relief.”
“Bruc? Who is Bruc?” I ask. “What are you talking about? I’m not anybody’s whore.”
“They call it a breeder, not a whore, but it is quite the same for me. And Bruc, he is the CEO of Gerra’s Justice Production,” she says. “We are on the production and broadcasting ship. It’s Bruc’s home away from home. It’s where this whole operation is run from.”
“I still don’t understand,” I say, feeling like an idiot. “Why am I here?”
“I assume you’re pregnant?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah.”
“Right. So, they’re going to terminate that pregnancy, and then they’re going to do one of two things with you,” she says. “They’ll either artificially implant Gargolian sperm into you. Or, if Bruc likes what he sees, he’s going to impregnate you the old-fashioned way. I’m sorry, Marissa.”
I fall silent for a moment as I let her words sink in. The implications of it all are horrifying.
“That’s what happened to me. I was put into the damn Gargolian breeding program, but Bruc picked me out and bought me,” she says, her tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. “He’s been fucking me two or three times a day, and the longer I go without getting pregnant, the more brutally he beats me.”
The thought of it turns my stomach, and I have to fight back the urge to retch. This woman’s life has been nothing but sheer torment and horror, and my heart goes out to her.
“I conceived once. But I got sick almost immediately and they put me with the prison healers because it was too dangerous to fly me to Gorgole. Thank God it ended in miscarriage,” she tells me softly, but I can see that she is in pain. “Bruc beat me within an inch of my life and told me if I don’t get pregnant soon, he’s going to leave me here on Gerr’a.”
“I’m sorry, Eva,” I say, feeling genuine heartbreak for her. “Do they keep you on this ship?”
She nods. “Apparently, Bruc’s wife does not approve of me and does not want to see me on Gargole or she’ll kill me. So I’m stuck here, living on this ship. I’m not always tied down, though, and I have my own cabin. It’s just because everyone now is too busy with the Culling broadcast to watch me. They think I might kill myself,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “But I guess I will be left here on Gerr’a when this whole thing is over with. Bruc has you now.”
I want to cry for her, but I bite it all back. There will be time for tears later. Right now, we need to find a way out of here. Kon will undoubtedly be looking for me, and I need to find him. I know he’s not going to leave without me, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to him while he was searching for me.
“It’s almost a relief in a way,” she says. “At least I’ll die quickly out there and not be forced to live in this purgatory.”
“Eva, listen to me,” I say. “You’re not going to die on this ship or in that prison. We are getting the fuck out of here. You hear me?”
She laughs softly. “I’d love to believe that.”
“Then believe it,” I tell her. “There’s somebody looking for me, and he’s got a plan to get us out of here. All we need to do is find him.”
Her laugh is a little cynical. “And how do you propose to get out of these binders?”
“Yeah, that’s a problem,” I say. “How long do you think they’ll keep us locked down?”
“Until the Culling is over probably.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly,” she chuckles bitterly. “Sweetie, face it. We’re stuck here.”
There’s a soft chime a moment before the door slides open. A Gargolian female wearing a white smock walks in and glares down at me imperiously. She clearly doesn’t like what she sees.
“Time for your procedure,” she hisses. “We need to get that abomination out of you before it takes root.”
I lay there, resisting the urge to say or do something provocative. I do my best to show her that I am still recovering from the sedative and pose no threat at all. I want her to think I’m compliant and weak as she leans down and undoes the binders around my ankles. My heart beats harder, the anticipation building inside me as she undoes the shackle on my left hand. It’s all I can do to not move or show any emotion on my face as she moves to the right. And when I hear the snap and pop of the sonic binder shutting off, I launch myself right at her.
I’m on my feet and have my hand around her throat in the blink of an eye. And when she opens her mouth to call for help, I drive my fist into her face as hard as I can. Again. And again. I keep beating her face until she goes limp and falls to the ground, unconscious.
A maniacal, half-crazed laugh escapes me, and I look down at Eva, feeling victory wash over me. Moving quickly, I drag the unconscious Garglolian onto the table I was just on and lock her into the binders. After that, I gag her to keep her from drawing attention to herself.
Satisfied the Gargolian bitch isn’t going anywhere, I turn and unhook Eva. She stares at me in wide-eyed wonder and a strange smile on her face. She slips off the table and looks at her wrists as if in disbelief that she’s free. The tears are rolling down her face fast and thick.
“We’re not in the clear yet,” I say, holding up a finger to admonish her. “We need to find Kon first.”
“Who is this guy?” she asks.
“Just…he’s…” I trail off because I don’t know exactly what to call him right now. My baby’s father, obviously. But he’s so much more than that to me. I just don’t know how to define it yet. Although, unless we find him and get out of here, there’s going to be nothing to define anyway, so it’s best not to focus on that right now. All I need to be concentrating on now is finding Kon and getting out of here. “Just trust me,” I tell her. “And stay close. We’re leaving.”
I creep to the door and hit the button, and it opens with a soft hiss. Sticking my head out, I peer into the corridor and find it empty. I turn back to Eva.
“Do you know your way around the ship?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, I was more or less confined to my cabin the whole time I was here.”
I look left and then right. I’ve got no idea where to go, so it comes down to a mental coin flip. All I can do is hope tha
t we don’t run into a squad of armed Gargolians. One direction is as good as the other, so I give Eva a quick shrug.
“Okay, follow me,” I say.
I turn to the right, and we follow several corridors, turning left and right on nothing more than my gut feeling. Except for small signs beside the doors, everything looks exactly the same. The corridors are all gleaming white and burnished steel, and there are no landmarks for me to guide us by. For all I know, we’ve been running in circles.
But just when despair is about to overwhelm me, we round a corner, and I hear the sound of men shouting and weapons firing. My stomach clenches and my heart lurches drunkenly in my chest. I don’t know how I know, but I am absolutely certain the fighting is Kon and his men taking control of the ship. Somehow, I just feel him out there and know that he’s coming for me.
“What are you doing?” Eva hisses from behind me. “You’re running toward the fighting. We should be going the other way.”
“It’s Kon,” I tell her, a wide smile crossing my face. “We’re safe now.”
“How do you know that?”
I shake my head. “I just do.”
We come to another corner, and I stop, pressing my back flat against the wall. I look over at Eva, who mirrors my movement, and I see the nervousness etched into her features. I lean out and peer around the corner just as Kon steps out of a room. The relief that floods my body is more profound than anything I’ve ever felt before in my life, and it very nearly brings me to tears.
“Kon!”
I shout his name as I rush down the hallway and watch the expression on Kon’s face shifts when he sees me. His eyes grow wide, and the rictus of fear and rage melts away suddenly, replaced by an expression of unadulterated joy and relief. I throw myself at him, and the big Tabiean catches me in mid-air, crushing me to him and embracing me tightly. I cling to him, and in that moment, I never want to let him go.
Behind him, I see another Tabiean man, and when I catch sight of Tara, I can’t help crying. Kon sets me down, and I rush over to Tara and throw my arms around her too. She laughs as she embraces me in return.
“I am so glad to see you,” I tell her.
“And I you,” she replies. “You took a terrible risk doing what you did.”
I give her a wink. “Seems like it turned out okay.”
She laughs and shakes her head.
Then Kon grabs hold of my arm and gently spins me around to face him again. I see a complex mix of emotions rolling across his face like thunderheads rolling across an open sky.
“She is right. You took an enormous risk, and I was worried,” he says, and then grits his teeth at me. “You are such a stubborn—”
“Yeah, yeah, you can scold me later,” I tell him. “I have something to tell you.”
“You are having my child,” he says, and I can’t help but hear the pride and joy in his voice. “My child.”
“Our child,” I correct him with a smile.
He nods. “Yes. Our child,” he says. “And you are mine, Marissa. My mate. I am claiming you.”
I don’t know what that means exactly, but judging by the expressions on the faces of Tara and the man I don’t know, I guess it’s a pretty big deal. I will say, though, to hear him claim me, it makes my heart flip-flop inside me. I am his. I was his from the moment he marked me on that show, but now it’s different. With our child growing inside me, I am a part of him. Just as he is a part of me.
It seems so strange to me that I was abducted from my home and taken so far away, thrown into a prison, and forced to fight for my life. And yet somehow, despite it all, I found something I never expected—love.
I lay my hand on his cheek and stare into his eyes. “I am yours, Kon,” I whisper. “And you are mine.”
“That’s wonderful news and I am genuinely happy for the both of you,” says the Tabiean man I don’t know. “But can we get out of here before they blow us up on this landing pad?”
Kon smiles, and the laugh that rumbles out of his belly is the purest and most joyful sound I’ve ever heard.
“That sounds like a terrific idea,” he says.
I nod. “Yes, it does. Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kon
“So, this is Bruc?” Marissa asks.
The human woman with her, Eva, nods, and glares at him. The look of anger on her face is impressive. She’s fierce, and it makes me wonder if she is as capable in a fight as Marissa is. Eva steps forward and spits on the face of Gerr’a Justice Production’s top man. And I cannot say that I blame her.
“How do you know him?” I ask.
Eva turns to me. “He’s been holding me prisoner and raping me for months now,” she hisses. “Please let me kill him.”
“I think she deserves it,” Marissa says.
I shake my head. “No, I want him alive,” I say. “For now.”
“Kon…”
I shake my head at Marissa. “He will die. Do not fear,” I say. “But I have a job for him to do first.”
Bruc is tall and thin and he’s not nearly as brawny as the other Gargolians. But I know that he’s more intelligent than most of his people. He’s savvy and knows how to keep the Gargolians engaged and entertained. He knows how to motivate and inspire them, to keep them ready for war and thirsty for blood. He’s a monster, plain and simple. But he can still serve a purpose.
He and his production crew had taken shelter in the ship when the fighting broke out in the prison. They had kept the cameras rolling inside and when we crashed in, they had been talking excitedly about the slaughter going on inside the facility and how great their ratings were going to be as the Gargolian people watched prisoners and the wealthy elite of their society alike be butchered.
I look down at him with pure hatred and disdain for his cowardice. He kneels on the floor, his hands bound behind his back, surrounded by the bloodied bodies of his people. Dyrm and I made sure to keep him alive when we took the ship.
“We’ve broken atmosphere,” Dyrm’s voice echoes from the ship’s comms. “But we have a problem. We have two Gargolian warcruisers closing in on us.”
Bruc’s grin is feral. “You will not make it out of the system. Those warcruisers—”
I hit a button on the console. “Dyrm, transmit the codes now.”
We wait for a moment, and my stomach clenches as I hold my breath. Though this has been planned and I have confidence in my men on the outside, I know that things sometimes go wrong. And I would have no way of knowing until it’s too late.
“Codes accepted,” Dyrm shouts with glee. “Those warcruisers are being crewed by our men.”
The knot in my gut releases as the wave of relief sweeps through me. Bruc, though, blanches as he realizes the situation has taken a bad turn for him. With our crews manning their two warcruisers, there is no stopping our escape. And there is no getting out of his execution.
“Please,” he stammers. “Let me go, and I can make you all rich. Very rich. I can give you wealth beyond your wildest dreams.”
Eva saves me the trouble of having to backhand him when she steps forward and delivers a vicious punch to the side of his head. Blood flows from the Gargolian’s nose, and a look of narrow-eyed rage crosses his face as he looks at Eva. She steps back and looks over at me in fear. I laugh heartily. She’s as spirited as Marissa, and I admire that.
“The area is secure,” Dyrm says over the comms. “Make it quick though, we need to get out of here sooner rather than later.”
I nod. “Let’s get ready, then.”
I drag Bruc to a small stage set up in the production room. He begs and pleads for his life, offering everything from money to females, to whatever it is my heart desires if I only let him live. Once I get him bound a chair in front of the cameras on stage, I turn and give Marissa and Eva a quick tutorial on how to operate the equipment. It is already working, we just need to switch the focus of the broadcast. A few test runs, and they have it down.
> “Are you ready?” I ask.
Marissa nods. “I am. But I’m confused about what it is we’re doing.”
“You will see,” I say, and flash her a smile.
I walk around and stand beside Bruc, giving Marissa and Eva a nod. They punch the buttons, and the lights come up as the cameras rise up out of the hatches in the ground. When I see the red light come on, indicating that we’re live, a malevolent smile crosses my face.
“Good evening, citizens of Gargole,” I say. “Tonight, I bring you a very special announcement.”
“Help me. Scramble the warships—”
I cut off Bruc’s plea with a vicious backhand. The crack of my hand meeting his flesh is loud, and he groans as his head rocks to the side.
“As I was saying, this man, Bruc, head of Gerr’a Justice Productions, is going to be killed tonight,” I announce. “We will exact the same sort of brutal vengeance upon him that he visited on so many of our brothers and sisters. Tonight will be a night of true justice.”
On the production consoles in front of us I watch as the tally of live viewers starts to rise. It’s a slow trickle at first, but we’re broadcasting to all of Gargole, and it’s not long before the numbers start climbing quickly. It’s only a matter of moments before the number is in the tens of millions, and I smile as Bruc’s face grimaces in horror. On another board, I see my astrat listed, and it’s scrolling upward faster than the number of viewers, which draws a laugh from me.
“See that? You inspired this sort of wanton bloodlust,” I say to him, pointing at the still rising number. “Seeing your wealthy and powerful people being slaughtered inside the prison wasn’t enough. Your people want to see me murder you on live television.”
“No. Please. Don’t do this,” Bruc begs. “I’ll give you anything you want. Money. Power—”
