by V. K. Ludwig
“Listen to me, anam ghail.” He took my hands into his, funneling all his love for me into his fingertips as he ran them over the back of my hands. “We will catch her. We will go back to Earth together. And I’d rather die than let anything bad happen to either one of you.”
Little did I know that he was right about two of those things.
Twenty-Three
Melek
* * *
I leaned against the wooden column, arms folded in front of my chest, glancing over the alley from a lowered head. Purple fog clung to the old stones on the ground and refused to lift. The hood fell deep into my face, causing the way my heart drummed against my ear to echo around me.
With no traces of the hacker, the Jal’zar from the dock was our last and only hope to make it back to Earth. Nobody gave two shits about what a sgu’dal had to say, but even less so if he couldn’t supply proof. After all, we were the weak ones. Our minds too frail to live through the realities of a Vetusian existence before Garrison Earth.
Rehab had kicked me out after three sun cycles with a ‘you can be proud of yourself’, only to send me to be chewed up and spit out by whoever got a glimpse of my eyes.
Fuck all of them.
I would get that Jal’zar and haul our asses out of this place full of prostitution, violence, and drugs. And I would show this Empire that even a sgu’dal could be worthy of his anam ghail, if given a chance to prove himself. And prove myself I would. Today.
“At least the Jal’zars are happy.” K’terra’s voice came from behind me.
I acknowledged her with little more than a grunt but remained otherwise still. “I spent almost three-thousand ICs on the hormone. If she doesn’t show up, then I might just as well walk up to the next bounty hunter and plead guilty in front of the High Court.”
“That desperate?”
Desperate didn’t even cut it.
After the attack of the pleasure worker, Katie and Grace were now bound to our apartment. One unruly patron had shrunk their already limited freedom back into Seneca-size. How long could we sustain this? If Katie took my seed, how could we possibly raise a hybrid under such conditions? Odheim was home to slaves and their masters: traders, madams, or drugs. Not a true family that existed beyond the boundaries of necessity.
I let out a sigh. “Remember what you promised if something happens to me…”
Silence turned as weak between us as these columns holding up the overhang of the run-down stores. “I’ll make sure they’re safe.”
“I mean it, K’terra,” I said. “They might execute me, but there are worse things in store for two human females caught on Odheim.”
“As if I don’t live through it every day.”
“Which I despise, and you know it.”
“Yeah, I know.” A hefty pat landed on my shoulder. “Believe it or not, Melek, but you’re the only Vetusian I like.”
“Believe it or not, K’terra, but you’re the only Jal’zar female who never tried to bite or sting me.”
She chuckled at that, and her shoes soon clip-clopped away over the shifting stones of this alley that reeked of shit and everything desperate. One reason why the rent for the old store was so cheap.
A new Jal’zar stepped into view.
Fangs gone. Check.
Tattered clothes. Check.
Scar. Hard to say.
My heart hit every single vertebra until it punched my throat, and I sunk my head deeper, and deeper into the safety of my hood. From there, I watched her every step. Left. Right. She hesitated. Then another step.
No limp.
Fucking shit.
Half a sun of waiting and no sign.
The spheres of souldust dragged heavy in my pockets, and I could have sworn each time they clinked together they whispered, ‘snort me’.
Annoyed and discouraged, I pushed myself away from the column. My eyes trailed up one way, then back down toward the other direction. Hurried steps carried me over to the store.
The street hummed with the croons and hisses of Jal’zar females. They gathered together and lined up for injections, fighting each other over their place in line.
Inside, Takel injected one female after another, his face crimson underneath yellow zits and a sparse beard. He was shy around the Jal’zar females, overwhelmed, so different from how I’d been at his age — I liked him even more for it.
The moment he placed the injector gun against the stomach of a female, another came and ran her fang along the shell of his ear. Whatever she offered him for a quick treatment turned his hands into a shaky mess. For a moment, I thought about stepping back before that steam roiling in his veins popped a pimple.
“These aren’t acceptable work conditions,” he said, rubbing his sleeve over his sweaty forehead. “The things they talk about…”
He lost his voice right there, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Say that again once you hang upside down from a crashed stargazer, trying to stop the bleeding on a warrior who tore his arm off.”
He pulled the trigger, stepped away from the Jal’zar in fetal position, then tossed the injector gun into the tub behind him. One of Adora’s workers immediately ran the sonic cleaner over it.
Takel grabbed for a new gun, checking the serum attachment before he waved the next Jal’zar to him. “She didn’t show up yet, and we’re almost out of serum.”
“Stretch it,” I said and leaned into a whisper. “I’m not doing this for the public good, you know. If it lasts them a sun less, so be it.”
“Please don’t tell Grace about this… primitive behavior of these females around me.”
Little did he know there would come a time when Grace reached maturity, where he’d come to enjoy everything primitive between a male and a female.
“That depends,” I said, and gave an overly firm pat against his back. “Stick to the rules Katie lays out, and your filthy secret is safe with me.”
He groaned at that, and I left him standing to make my way back outside. But the moment rancid air settled around me, my eyes landed on a new Jal’zar.
A limp leg disabled my lungs.
I immediately sunk my head and turned left, strolling back toward the column. There, I slowly turned around, leaning my shoulder back against the wood, but my legs charged with energy.
It was her.
Right there in front of me, clasping to her emaciated body, her condition too poor to hiss or snarl. She waited in line, her patience escaping through her back-and-forth seesawing feet.
At the corner of the row building, K’terra stood in the shadows of wooden planks leaned against the stone wall. She stared at me from lowered eyes. One nod from me, and she turned, making her way to guard the back door.
The Jal’zar glanced around uneasily and fumbled her hands in front of her stomach. Almost as if she expected someone to grab her at any moment now. If she made a run for it, chances were she wouldn’t get far in her condition. She’d been in this line of work for a while, probably since the early beginnings of the war. The Vetusian Empire had left its mark on her. Turned her into the shadow of what might have been a formerly glorious warmaiden.
The moment she shifted away from the line, my heart stopped, only to start up again with a stutter when she changed her mind and remained. Female after female, she took another step toward the door, another step toward the trap.
My gaze followed her through the glass front of the store. When only one female remained in front of her, my legs thrust me into motion. Each step toward the line of females turned my palms sweatier. There was just no way of telling how the others would react once we grabbed one of them. Would they come to her aid? Remain in line, not giving a shit as long as they got injected?
When Takel caught a glimpse of how I squeezed myself back into the store, he took a deep breath and injected the previous female. He disposed of the injector and grabbed a fresh one, the metal trembling in his clasp.
I shook my head and slowly waved my hand toward the ground.
He had to stay calm. Had to inject her to take the last bit of doubt out of this plan. But he didn’t.
The Jal’zar stepped up to the table and sat down but hesitated to lower herself onto the surface. She gave Takel a wary stare as he brought the injector gun toward her stomach, his finger bouncing off the trigger.
Metal touched down on her skin.
Her fingers wrapped around the needle tunnel.
She glanced over her shoulder.
Our eyes met.
“Pull the trigger!”
Takel jolted and pressed his finger down.
A hiss sounded into the room, too loud to be muffled by skin or flesh. I immediately jumped into the line of Jal’zar and built myself up in front of the door. Most of them scrambled away in confusion, though some immediately sent deafening hisses, which bounced off the naked walls.
The female pushed herself up and stood high on the table. From there, she threw herself straight at me. The force had me stumble back, but I braced against it.
“K’terra!” I shouted.
Long and thick, the female’s declawed tail wrapped around my neck and choked me. Hard. Everything around me turned blurry in a mix of oxygen deprivation and tears squeezed from the force. But I would not let Katie down.
One hand grabbed the sparse hair above cut horns. With the other, I formed a fist. My fingers clenched together, sending one punch after another into her egg sack until she yelped in pain. A burst of air sucked into my lungs, and I ran across the room where I rammed her into the wall.
Takel stood rooted behind the table, his mind probably overwhelmed with the realities of Odheim outside that neat infirmary of his. The Jal’zar around us kept hissing, though first ones took a step toward me, then glanced back toward the others.
Bloodlust burned at the back of their eyes, always eager to strike down a Vetusian no matter how little I had to do with their enslavement.
“Alde’e!” K’terra shouted in Jalut, her native language. “Get your damn injections and stay out of stuff that isn’t any of your business. He only came for her. This concerns none of you.” She snapped her fingers at Takel. “Come on, youngling, inject them. Grab that fucking gun and deliver on your promise.”
While the hisses and snarls calmed into hums around me, the Jal’zar pinned between my chest and the wall pounded her tail against the back of my head.
“Alde’e,” K’terra repeated. “He only wants to talk.”
“I’ve got nothing to say to this Vetusian!” she hissed.
I slung one arm around her neck and turned around, immediately squeezing her throat until she gargled in desperate need of air. Her tail went up my legs, but I pressed my thighs together, keeping her from punching me in the balls.
“Come on, Melek,” K’terra said with a grin. “No claws, no horns, no fangs. And still, you’re struggling.”
“How about you shut that smart mouth of yours and help me get her out of here before this escalates?”
She chuckled and wrapped her tail around the Jal’zar, the tip of her claw straining the thin skin at her temple. “He will let go of you now. And you are going to come with me through the backdoor. One wrong move and I’ll spike your brain.”
When the Jal’zar nodded, I eased my grip on her, but immediately grabbed for her tail instead. I held on to it while K’terra guided her toward the back door and out.
“Hold her still,” I said.
I fumbled a strong piece of rope from my pocket and tied it around her tail from one end. The other, I tied around her neck with enough tension to make her choke whenever she would try to use it against us.
K’terra wrapped an arm around her shoulder, sending a wave of shame into my stomach. How hard must it have been for my friend to press her tail claw against one of her own kind? Not only a Jal’zar, but a former slave forced into pleasuring thousands of ungrateful Vetusians?
“Your name?” K’terra asked.
Even with a rope tied around her neck, the female lifted her head high, letting the fibers dig deep into her filthy skin. “K’nema.”
K’terra flinched, her gaze flicking at me for a fraction of a moment before she shook her head. “May the ashes of our dying star reveal the one truth to your heart.”
The Jal’zar stood straight and thrust her chest out, carrying a regal posture not even the filth on her skin and the rags of her clothes managed to make look anything but impressive.
“And to you,” she said, her voice clipped, her tone steady.
Together, we left Takel behind to finish up the last bit of serum he had left. We took the narrow side alleys back to Brot Adnak, staying away from most of the curious glances of other Jal’zar.
The moment we stepped through the back door, Adora, Katie, and Grace hurried over from the kitchen, shocked faces hiding deep within dark hoods.
“That’s her?” Katie asked.
I wrestled a smile onto my face. “Yes.”
“Upstairs is already prepared for her,” Adora said. “I’ll get her a bucket so she can wash. Grace and Katie attached additional locks, but don’t expect me to give you one of my workers to post guard.”
I gave her a curt nod. Now that we had her, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight until her confession bought us the life we all deserved after this ordeal.
K’terra and I brought her upstairs while Katie and Grace followed behind. Inside our apartment, we walked her to the room at the far end. Aside from the bed, Adora had removed everything else, including sheets, blanket, and pillow.
“We need to tie her up,” K’terra said.
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” Katie asked. “There’s no need to be overly cruel. For all we know, she might be willing to help us right away.”
K’nema snorted. “He will kill me if I talk.”
I glanced between Katie and K’terra, then nodded. “I brought plenty of rope. Without her tail, she won’t be able to work herself out of it.”
We brought her over to the bed, where K’terra pressed her down onto the mattress while I tied all four limbs to the bedposts.
“Depending on how long this takes, I should probably look into laser cuffs,” I said. “Did you make sure the window is locked?”
“Locked from the inside,” Katie said. “And Adora had one of her workers secure it from the outside as well. They said there’s no way she’d make it out.”
We stepped outside, and I closed the door, allowing relief to settle down, ease the tension from my muscles. We had the Jal’zar. Now we needed to make her talk.
“What do you suggest, K’terra?”
“It won’t be easy. I can tell you that right away, and I hate being part of this. Even more so now.” She wiped the back of her hand over her cheek, drying the first tear I’d ever seen on this female’s face. “Her name is K’nema, Mother of the Foreseeing Ashes. Mate of late warlord R’kesh.”
“He’s still alive?”
She shook her head. “He died fighting off the Vetusians on our home planet.”
K’terra rubbed her hand over her mouth and walked off, mumbling, “There’s little you can do to this female that she hasn’t gone through already. There’s no greater torture than the memories of your past, so you better come up with a good plan to make her talk.”
Twenty-Four
Melek
* * *
I tied K’nema’s legs together with rope, the hard fibers cutting deep into her already bloodied ankles. She remained stoic, her eyes deserted, not making a sound when K’terra and I hung her upside down underneath the shower.
A voice command let the water run down her body, which created rivers of reddish-brown that stained her torn clothes. They collected there at the drain, swirling down right along with that last bit of my compassion.
I was a healer.
My color white.
But I sunk to my knees, then fell onto my ass, the fibers of my uniform soaking in the wet stains of this female’s misery. I didn’t know when it became justif
ied to shift our hardship to her. Didn’t remember at what point during the night I mutated from victim to villain.
All I knew was that her suffering would end ours.
Prevent others from going through the same.
At least that was what I told myself when she wiggled underneath the stream of water. Not because she wanted to, but because not even the strongest Jal’zar could fight her survival instinct.
Gargles and wheezing broke through the streams, letting droplets and mist spray from her mouth and flooded nostrils. Another voice command and the rush of water turned louder, speckling my face, turning my hair damp.
“She’ll drown,” K’terra said.
“Then I’ll bring her back.” Only to let her drown again.
Torture was a terrible thing, but particularly so when someone kept you alive just so you would live through more of it. A warrior might have inflicted pain on her, but my weapon was time. I stretched her suffering. Amplified her agony by letting her slip close to death but never into, pulling her back from the edge at my call.
And yet… she did not talk.
“Alright,” I said and pushed myself up. “Let’s get her down.”
K’terra deactivated the shower. “None of this is working.”
Together, we untied her from the metal disc on the ceiling, only to let her come down headfirst onto the tiles. K’nema groaned, blood oozing from yet another wound I would carefully heal, only to tear it open again when it suited. At least nobody could say I kept her dehydrated.
“I have to get out of here for a moment,” I said and left the bathroom, my pants wet, my hands trembling. “Give her a moment to rest.”
Katie sat on the couch, gently banging her toe against the table leg. Beside her, Grace lay buried underneath Takel’s arms. He held her one ear against his chest and pressed the other shut with his hand, just like a good mate should.
