Nell Thorn

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by Sophie Angmering




  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Nell Thorn

  ISBN # 978-0-85715-937-3

  ©Copyright Sophie Angmering 2012

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright April 2012

  Edited by Rebecca Hill

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.

  This story contains 91 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 7 pages.

  Galaxy Elite Fleet

  NELL THORN

  Sophie Angmering

  Book two in The Galaxy Elite Fleet Series

  Who ever said Rim Lords were easy?

  Mouthy, brassy blonde bombshell Helena Thorn is the oldest daughter of one of the most established and influential Galaxy Elite Fleet dynasties. Ambitious, focused, she is fast tracking herself to Sector Command by running covert missions for a clandestine group within the Fleet. Her latest orders involve locating a sex slave on the planet of Egalita Prime, buying him, and then relocating him without anyone finding out about what she has done.

  Simple…

  Except the sex slave turns out to be a powerful Rim Lord, who has been drugged and betrayed as part of a faraway coup.

  Not so simple…

  Dedication

  To all my family, some of whom have read my stories…and far more who have not!!

  Chapter One

  “There, that one. The big man, the one lying down…”

  The words were spoken with cool authority, the voice female, and there was no mistaking that she was talking about him. He was lying down because those bastard slavers had beaten him so badly he couldn’t get up. Woodson Rowe shut his eyes again with a groan. The right side of his face felt as if it were on fire.

  The crisp click of expensive footwear marching around the other wretched souls up for auction with him was impossible to ignore. This was a slave auction, being held on the poor excuse for a world that was called Egalita Prime. The name alone was surely a joke. There was nothing egalitarian about this particular Inner Galaxy World. The only thing that was universally accepted was money, and plenty of it. You could buy anything here, it would seem. Even a Rim Lord, who had been drugged and betrayed as part of a faraway coup, was available for purchase.

  “No, no, Madam. Not him. He is a useless brute of a man.”

  “Indeed.” Her voice was cool, caustic; her tone suggested she was unused to having her wishes questioned. “I can certainly see he is battered about. No doubt knocked unconscious by you or maybe one of your thugs. What happened to make you beat him senseless?” The voice moved closer as she walked towards him. “Was he disobedient?”

  “He is a violent psychopath, not at all what you could possibly want. He flattened one of my guards trying to escape.”

  Madam was apparently ignoring the slaver’s arguments, the sound of her footsteps finally coming to a stop beside him.

  “Hmmm,” she said. “How much do you want?”

  Rowe cracked open one painful eye and was met with the sight of a pixie-like face, topped with a shock of bleached, brassy blonde hair, cut and styled into a sophisticated crop, looking down at him. Her blue eyes were surrounded by lashes so long it looked like moon-spider legs had been stuck to her lids, and her wide, generous mouth was edged with the shiniest, reddest lips he had ever seen. Whoever she was, she was a cosmetic merchandiser’s dream. Her complexion, whilst flawless, looked completely artificial.

  The slaver started to splutter an almost incoherent protest at her choice.

  “Name a price, or I will be telling the Governor later of your reluctance to trade. He is always particularly keen to welcome representatives of the fleet to his protectorate, and he will no doubt take your actions as a personal affront.”

  Refusing to trade on Egalita Prime was a capital crime.

  “But, Madam, please!”

  “Fleet Captain Helena Thorn, if you please. So, have you a price?”

  Just when he’d thought his luck could not get any worse, it seemed to dip even further. The slaver’s female customer was a Galaxy Elite Fleet Officer. These particular representatives of the Inner Galaxy Worlds were the sworn enemy of any Rim inhabitant—the two regions of space had been at loggerheads for almost a thousand years. The Fleet was responsible for enforcing the universal rule of law throughout the IGW and on the border with Rim space.

  “Can I ask you what you intend to use him for?” The slaver retreated into icy civility in response to the Fleet Captain’s threats.

  “Well, for sex, of course.” Her voice implied it should have been obvious.

  “But, Captain Thorn, he is a violent and unpredictable man!”

  “What can I say? I have unusual tastes.”

  The slaver’s disbelieving snort preceded an exorbitant price that made Rowe breathe a silent sigh of relief. She’d never pay it. He would be left to die in peace at the side of the road on this hole of a planet.

  “Deal.” She turned on her heel. “Cash or credits?”

  Rowe felt bile rise in his throat. He turned on his side and was violently sick over a pair of very expensive boots.

  “Cash,” replied the slaver promptly, “and he is sold as seen. No refund for lack of satisfaction.”

  Captain Helena Thorn flicked one elegant, booted toe free of vomit. “I will, of course, require a receipt.”

  Chapter Two

  “Rim whore!” The shout echoed down the corridor as a woman, clad in ugly work overalls, walked through the open door of the cabin.

  What the…? Helena Thorn had heard the whispers about her younger sister before her sibling had even set foot aboard the ship, but she had not expected anyone in her crew to start shouting at Kate.

  As if I did not have enough to deal with!

  Captain Thorn pointed a finger at the corridor and frowned angrily at her aide, her message clear.

  Sort. It. Out.

  The aide fled.

  Katherine Thorn stopped dead when she saw Nell. Her face, pale and beautiful, revealed the briefest flicker of surprise, followed by resignation, before she schooled it into no expression at all.

  Exasperation bubbled up to form a knot in Nell’s chest as she stared at the young woman before her. Last time they had met, Kate had been resplendent in her white and gold dress uniform, about to be recognised for her exceptional service to the Galaxy Elite Fleet and her role in protecting the Inner Galaxy Worlds from the threat posed by the border territories.

  Now she was in hiding, and on the run.

  “For fuck’s sake, Katherine, how could you let it happen?” The words were out before Nell could stop them. Only then did s
he notice the nervous-looking envoy hovering near Katherine, rubbing his hands together. “And you can clear off. Tell Stannick you’ve delivered her as arranged and I’ll see to the rest.” With that, the escort scuttled out of the cabin, leaving the two sisters glowering at each other.

  “Helena.” Katherine’s tone was not particularly happy. She looked tired, miserable and uncomfortable. But, oddly, there was an air of serenity about her that had certainly not been there last time they had met.

  Nell studied her sister closely. “You are a fucking idiot. You should have ended it before it went this far. You know how it goes—death before dishonour, and all that crap.”

  “Are you suggesting I should have killed myself, Helena?” Kate had not been ten minutes out of Rim custody and they were already arguing.

  Did things ever change? No, obviously things did not, or at least not when one was a member of the coldly focused, incredibly competitive Thorn family.

  “Do you know, I honestly think they thought you would do it?” Nell meant make it to the top of the Fleet hierarchy, not kill herself, but Kate’s expression of shock made her rush to explain herself. “The family were so proud of you. Your reputation has spread right the way through the Fleet.”

  “Shut up, Helena.” Kate stopped her before she could reel off that long list of now meaningless achievements.

  “That would be Captain Helena Thorn to you.” Nell’s sarcasm was wasted as Kate seemed oblivious. She was admiring the furniture.

  “Wow.” Kate seemed preoccupied as she sat without being asked, running her hands over the cream leather upholstery of her chair. “Nice furniture, Nell. Who did you fuck to get it?”

  Nell hadn’t actually had sex with anyone to secure the luxurious fittings aboard her vessel. It had been the previous incumbent of her ship that had insisted on the expensive finish.

  Helena sat opposite, rolling her eyes as she did so, annoyed that even her sister assumed the worst of her.

  Kate leant back and looked up at the ceiling. Whatever she had been about to say seemed momentarily forgotten when she spotted what was above their heads. “And what is that?”

  Nell glanced up, but it was merely a formality. She knew what was up there. “A cage… Don’t change the subject. Do you have any idea of the trouble you are in? What were you thinking of, screwing two of the first sons of the damn Rim? Only you could have a fucking death wish that wide!”

  “That observation, coming from a woman who has a”—Kate tipped her head back and studied the elevated prison for a moment—“naked man suspended from her ceiling in a cage, I can only take as a compliment.”

  Nell was not about to explain about the presence of a cage in her cabin to her sister. It was all part of an ambitious, if risky, scheme to make Area Commander within the not too distant future.

  “I am not a woman. I am a Fleet Captain. Something you would have done well to remember before you got yourself into this fucking mess.”

  Nell took a deep breath and made a mental note to try to stop swearing. Kate’s predicament had rattled her far more than she’d thought possible.

  “Would it make any difference if I told you I never planned it to end like this?” Kate asked her quietly.

  “Did you give the command to compromise Danyeo and Stannick?”

  Kate caught her eye, then nodded reluctantly. “I did it with the best of intentions.”

  “Then it’s your fault,” Helena concluded darkly. “You are responsible for the consequences of your actions. It’s a Thorn family motto. You know that. Along with screw them before they can screw you. And now, talking of consequences, I have the problem of what to do with you.”

  She frowned, furious with the two men who had ruined Kate’s life with what appeared to be an almost systematic deliberation, angry at how helpless she felt, and not a little concerned now as to what the future might hold for her younger sister. Kate had somehow managed to antagonise all parties across a massive area of space whilst becoming entangled with two of the most powerful men in the sector. “I am hoping you are in the market for some sensible advice. My advice being, if you wish to continue to live for much longer, I strongly suggest you retire your links with the Rim Lords, the Galaxy Elite Fleet and the ISS as soon as possible. Then lie low for about ten years.”

  Kate sighed heavily and said, “I thought you might say that.”

  * * * *

  Rowe shifted slightly, aware of voices drifting in and out at the edge of his consciousness. The half-life of the drugs made it difficult to concentrate on waking, but so far he had not even really cared. The captain drugged him every night. He knew she was doing it even as she put a tepid, foul-tasting drink to his lips and he drank it. If he was honest, it was moot whether he lived or died. He found himself all too willing to embrace oblivion rather than face up to the deceit and betrayal that had landed him in this situation. Eventually he would no doubt get to a point where he would refuse her medication, or pretend to take it whilst plotting his escape, but for now it suited him just to lie there in a sensory fog.

  For all that, Rowe was still aware of things. He was aware of the fact that they had left the disgusting world of Egalita Prime after Thorn had dined with the local governor, just as he was aware that it was Captain Thorn herself who’d escorted him personally aboard her ship and to her quarters. His prison there was a surprisingly low-tech cage, big enough to lie down in and stand up straight in, but that was all.

  “By the creator, Helena, what have you bought now?” It was an older man’s voice, which pricked Rowe’s curiosity enough to make him try to open an eye to focus on the owners of the voices outside his cage. He’d been sure he had heard an unfamiliar woman’s voice before, but had been too drugged to register anything more than that.

  “A big man to fuck, Daddy,” Helena Thorn stated baldly. “You know, to ensure my needs don’t intrude on my work. You’ve always said that it’s wisest not to fuck anyone senseless on one’s own doorstep, or hand anybody that sort of advantage over you. Never does to mix business with pleasure.”

  The elder Thorn gave a shocked snort, and Rowe could almost sympathise with the notorious Admiral Thorn’s distaste.

  Rowe rolled his eyes and allowed his head to sink back down. His top priority had to be to escape this hell whore, her ship, her space—and to return to the wild, lawless territories of the Rim, where he had a serious score to settle.

  He needed to be gone before she stopped drugging him because she had a use for him, and decided to bed him. This was certainly no time to have the robust health and genetics of a Rim colonist.

  As he opened his eyes, the diminutive figure of Helena Thorn stepped into his line of vision. The notorious, spoilt, Daddy’s girl of the Galaxy Elite Fleet, scourge of the anarchic Rim worlds, golden child of the dangerous and influential Thorn family. Petite, buxom, with an unlikely head of flaxen-blonde hair, she was built like a pocket Venus, with an hourglass figure that made a man think only of spreading her thighs and losing himself in her.

  It would no doubt be later that that same unfortunate would discover she had the mind of a precision-built computer and the reputation of an alley cat, Rowe told himself.

  Chapter Three

  Nell glanced warily over her shoulder. He was watching her again. He was always watching her, not moving his body but following her with his eyes, tracking her progress about her cabin.

  They had been travelling for some time now, at sub-dimensional speed, to reach the rendezvous. Nell had been surprised at how quickly her guest had recovered from such a serious beating, but then what little she did know about the inhabitants of the Rim included something of their ability to recuperate from even the most serious of injuries.

  She had been unable to make much progress with her acquisition, as her father had arrived on board unannounced at the worst possible time. Nell, all too aware of the sensitive nature of her current mission, and of her father’s intense disapproval of the kind of activity she was currently
involved in, had thought it wiser to do nothing until he left.

  The fewer people that knew about what she did the better. Fortunately, Captain Helena Thorn had acquired a reputation for an eclectic taste in sexual companions, and a fast turnover.

  Personally, Nell was surprised that people did not ask more questions.

  As long as they did not, Nell was free to collect individuals as requested by her coordinator, Talbot, and relocate them as quickly and quietly as possible. She had secretly moved political prisoners, deposed leaders, troublesome celebrities and, now, even her own sister.

  As she studied him, she wondered what category he fell into.

  “Are you able to talk?” she asked her prisoner, aware of the smoky grey gaze resting on her, even as he lay there as if asleep. Or not. He shrugged, clearly admitting he was actually conscious this time.

  “Why am I here?” His voice was deep, fluid and unexpectedly sexy.

  Oh, my maker. Nell closed her eyes and tried to ignore the lurch in her stomach. “Do you need to know why?” she replied abruptly, answering a question with a question, clearing her throat with a cough as she finished. Aware that a huskiness had crept in that could give completely the wrong message.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it not enough that I saved you?”

  “No. There will no doubt be a reckoning.”

  She had been told very little, apart from that the mission was highly confidential, and that her latest guest was to be considered high risk. Whether that meant Nell would be at risk from him, or he would be at risk from someone else, had not been made clear.

 

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