by Ruby Dixon
“You put your hand on my cock and bit me.” He looks indignant.
“I didn’t say I was a good girl! I said I was roofied. There’s a difference. It takes away any inhibitions.”
“You…did not wish to mate?”
He’s finally getting it. “No. I’m sorry.”
The look on his face becomes slowly horrified. “Because you were not thinking clear. Because they made you take something that made you want to mate.”
“Bingo.”
Taushen’s nostrils flare, and he jerks to his feet, stalking the four corners of the room. He paces back and forth, silent, but his tail twitches madly, and I can tell he’s really upset. As for me, I’m not sure how I feel. I don’t feel violated like I thought I would. I don’t think the roofie was strong enough or mentally impairing enough. I do remember everything. But I do feel weird about things. Like I drank too much at the bar and took someone home I didn’t intend to, and now he won’t leave. Yeah, that’s the best way to describe this. As plans go, it wasn’t a bad plan. Shack up, have some dirty sex to make our captors think we’re together, and then let the chips fall where they may.
Except Taushen’s chip has fallen firmly in the “mated” category and I can tell he’s having a hard time realizing that I’m not going to be his little woman. He keeps glancing over at me, and there’s agony in his eyes.
And shit, I feel bad. I shouldn’t, because I’m the victim here, but I should have stopped to make sure he knew what a roofie was. I should have said it was just for fun when he was all calling me his “mate” and stuff instead of demanding that he fuck me harder. We’re both to blame for assuming things.
He looks over at me and then snatches up his leathers from the floor and hands me mine. “You should dress.”
“Oh. Right.” I grab my tunic, and for some reason, his reaction makes me feel dirty. “Look, Taushen, I’m sorry things turned out the way they did—”
“Sorry?” He bites out the word, again both shocked and angry at my reaction. “You should not be sorry. They gave you something that made you want me.” His hands clench. “I want to rip their throats out.”
My eyes widen. “Um, okay. Me too.”
He clenches and unclenches his hands again. “To think they would do such a thing to a female.” He shakes his head slowly, and I watch his jaw clench. I can practically hear his teeth gritting together.
“They don’t care,” I tell him quietly. “To them, we’re little more than livestock. They’re going to breed us and sell us. At least like this, we’re together and not sold separately.” At least until they figure out that he can’t make me pregnant without resonance, but I hope that won’t come up anytime soon. I pull the tunic over my head.
When I emerge from my clothes, Taushen moves to sit next to me. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?” His gaze roams over me, and the look on his face is worried. “I was not gentle.”
“I’m okay. Maybe in a few days it’ll all hit me and I’ll freak out, but right now I’m okay.” I give him a brave smile. “Until then, we need to figure out what we’re going to do.”
“You and I are going to—” He pauses and jumps to his feet again.
The door opens and the aliens enter. They’re holding the long, strange-looking rods that serve as their guns, and one makes that weird wheezing sound I know is a laugh when he looks over at me.
Taushen just snarls and lunges for the nearest alien, a murderous look on his face. Hands outstretched, he manages to grab the clothing of the first one before the shock collar lights up and he slumps to the ground.
I bite back the scream rising in my throat and watch, horrified, as he twitches on the floor, unable to move. The aliens just laugh again. I crawl to his side and put his head in my lap, because that seems like something a mate would do. Plus, it’s kind of sweet of him to defend my honor.
Maybe he’s not such an awful guy after all. He sure wasn’t an awful lay.
Not that I’m thinking about that sort of thing.
One of the aliens squats on the floor next to me. He tilts his head and gives me a toothy smile. “Yoooouuuu will not trrrryy saaaame, no?”
I shake my head, stroking one of Taushen’s horns. “No,” I say quietly.
“Tellllll ussss…howwww mannny moooorrrr?”
How many more? Is he asking about Warrek and Summer? Nervous, I force myself to focus on Taushen’s face. His eyes are closed, and his horns seem impossibly big from this angle, his hair thick and falling over my lap like a waterfall. Do I tell the truth? Do I lie? What’s the right thing to do here? “No others,” I say after a moment. “Just us.”
“Howwww…youuuu…arriiiiive heeere?”
How did we get here? How did we arrive? “We are slaves,” I tell him, deciding that half-truth is all I’ve got. I try to think of a story that covers everyone, including pregnant Harlow and the other women, and how sa-khui and human got mixed. “We…had an old master and he set us free here when he died.” Er, sure. Seems legit.
The alien studies me and then tangles one of his lobster-claw fingers in my pink hair. “Iffff…youuuu lieee…”
The threat is unspoken. I swallow hard. “Not lying.” Totally lying.
As I watch, Taushen—who I thought was unconscious—raises a hand slowly and reaches for the throat of the alien leering at me.
This time, I feel the sizzle they send through his body thanks to our shared contact, and we both go unconscious.
8
BROOKE
When I wake up, we’re alone, and Taushen’s in a bad mood. Some chewy, awful ration bars of some kind have been left, along with two drink boxes of water, and I eat and drink my share, trying to be calm. I’ve been in a situation like this before. I know what to expect, and I’m going to need my strength.
Taushen just paces, back and forth, back and forth. His tail flicks wildly as he does. Every conversation I try to start goes nowhere, so I eventually give up and nap.
Time passes. I don’t know how long we’re locked up. The room we’re in doesn’t have a clock, and the lights remain on all the time. I sleep fitfully, and Taushen just paces. If he naps, it’s when I’m asleep. Food continues to be left for us, and the aliens come by to quiz me again some time later. This time, they don’t touch my hair, just ask me how many others are out there.
And they don’t look happy with my answer, which makes me wonder what’s going on.
There’s not much to do in the cell, especially since Taushen isn’t talking anymore. So I fiddle with my hair, braiding it back and forth. Fishtail braid, French braid, four-strand braids, Dutch braids, anything I can think of. My hair isn’t all that long, so I have to get creative and use small sections. Taushen’s hair is better than mine, and I’m itching to braid it, but every time I make the suggestion, he just shoots me an angry look and goes back to pacing.
It feels like days are passing, but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s only been one day and I’m just so stir-crazy it feels like more.
I’m picking apart my latest braid when the door opens. Taushen and I immediately jerk to alertness, and he steps in front of me protectively, baring his sharp teeth at them.
One alien raises his gun at Taushen, as if daring him.
Taushen starts to take a step forward, but I put a hand on his ankle, a silent plea for him not to. If he gets knocked out again, it doesn’t help either of us. He pauses, and then, snarling, takes a step back.
They gesture he should move aside.
Taushen doesn’t. He continues to stand in front of me, an army of one.
“It’s okay,” I tell him softly. “Don’t get yourself killed over me. I’m not worth it.”
This time, his angry gaze is focused on me, and he stalks away a few feet to glower from afar.
One of the aliens moves to squat next to me on the floor. “Haaaannndd.”
Ugh, is he checking to see if I’m pregnant? I consider telling him the truth, that I know I’m not pregnant, but that seems stupid
after all I’ve been through. I obediently hold my hand out and only wince a little when he sticks me with his gauge.
“No…conceptionnnn,” he says. “Youuuu are not tryyyying harrrd enoughhh.”
I’m about to protest when the other makes that wheezing sound. Oh, a joke. Great. I suppose that answers whether or not they noticed Taushen and I having sex. My guess is that they did. I just keep a smile pasted to my face and pretend like I didn’t understand the question. “What do you mean?”
But he changes tactics on me. The look on his face grows angry. “Therrrr arrr moooorrr of youuuu,” he says, his words practically garbled in his haste to spit them out. “Youuuu lieeee.”
Oops. Well, too late to change stories now. I blink my eyes innocently and twirl a piece of my hair. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You captured everyone I know of.”
His face tightens and for a moment, I think he’s going to slap me. Instead, he pulls something out of his pocket. I recognize that bottle. “Do yuuuu waaaannntt thisssss?”
I glance at it and then back at him. It’s clear that he knows I don’t. “Not…really?”
“Thennnn talllkkk.”
They’re going to roofie me again unless I do what they ask. A small whimper escapes my throat at the thought, because I don’t want that. I want to be able to choose my own adventure, damn it.
Taushen growls with rage, and the alien brandishes his gun again. Taushen’s collar lights up, and it’s clear that it’s a warning. Just try it.
Except I know Taushen’s man enough to try it again. I know he’ll do anything to keep me safe, and the thought is weirdly comforting. I don’t want him to get hurt, but the thought that he’s willing to go that far to protect me does a lot for my mental state. I can be brave. I can.
“Whoooo issss outtt therrrrr?” my alien captor asks again, waving the bottle at me in a threat.
I swallow hard. I can be brave. I can. “No one.”
He snarls low and mutters something to his companion. To my surprise, Taushen drops to his knees, groaning as a shock rips through him.
I gasp. “What are you doing?” But I know—they’re using him against me. They want me to talk, so they’re going to torture Taushen in the hopes that I’ll break. For some reason, it’s easier to think of being hurt myself than someone being tortured on my behalf. I can’t handle it. “Don’t, please!”
The two aliens pause, their round, fishlike eyes on me. “Whaaaat doooo yooooouuuu knowwww?” one hisses at me. “Speeeeeak.”
“There’s a hundred of us,” I lie quickly. “Lots of them waiting outside to take you down. You guys don’t stand a chance.”
The alien barks something, clearly seeing through my lie. He reaches forward and grabs me by the throat with his claw-like hand, tilting my head back as he raises the bottle. Me and my big mouth. Fuck. The alien squeezes my lips open by pressing on my jaw, but before he can pour the hated liquid down my throat, Taushen gives a cry of rage and flings himself across the room—and onto the other alien.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the two of them tumble to the ground. Taushen’s larger body is all but covering the slaver, and they both twist on the ground. I can’t tell if Taushen’s been zapped and just landed lucky or if they’re truly fighting. The alien holding me hisses and then releases me. He gets to his feet, lifting his weapon.
Something sizzles in the air, and he collapses.
Everything goes quiet for a moment, and then Taushen flips onto his back. I think for a moment that he’s gone down, but to my surprise, he has the other alien pinned in front of him, one big arm across the enemy’s throat as the creature flails, gun useless in his hands. There’s another sizzle in the air, and the alien goes limp. Taushen blinks, surprised, and then looks at me.
I raise my hands. “I didn’t do it—”
“I did.” A familiar voice comes from the hallway, and I see a big blue body with long, silky black hair enter the room.
Warrek. He’s got one of the aliens’ guns tucked under his arm, and he offers a hand out to Taushen. Taushen takes it and jumps to his feet, then jerks, shuddering a little, and when Warrek releases him and then shakes out his hand, I realize Taushen’s still getting shocks sent through him.
And yet he did all that because he thought I was in danger.
“You have my thanks, Warrek,” Taushen grits out, tugging at his collar. “How did you get here?”
“Suh-mer,” he says simply, and then turns around and leaves, readying his gun once more. Somewhere else in the ship, I can hear Summer yelling at someone and the sound of more sizzling gunfire.
I feel weak with relief. We’re being rescued. I move closer to Taushen, because for some reason, I really want a hug right now. Or for him to put his arms around me and reassure me that we’re safe. I need…something.
He stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
I lean in, trying to slide my arms around his waist.
Taushen gently pushes me away. “I do not trust your touches, Brooke. Not when you are not yourself.”
“They didn’t drug me this time,” I protest, but he shakes his head again. Anger explodes through me, anger and hurt that he would turn me away when I need him. “Well, fuck you, too! I don’t want you to touch me, either.”
And I keep telling myself that.
We’re rescued all right. Summer’s ridden in and saved the day like a tiny, breathless, Asian badass, guns blazing. She and Warrek had this crazy plan to draw out our captors one by one, and between them and Mardok sabotaging the old ship from within, we were able to get free. Everyone’s looking at Summer as if she’s amazing, and they’re giving me suspicious looks.
I guess I deserve those. After all, I blabbed about families and babies to the aliens, and I nailed Taushen. Taushen, who’s ignoring me now that the others are around and acting as if we’re back to our normal cold dislike of each other. Fine then. Feeling’s mutual.
Except when it’s not, like right now. I’m just stewing in hurt.
Turns out that my grand plan of keeping families together didn’t do any good. I find out later that all of the couples were kept separated…except me and Taushen. Great. So my big plan only got me screwed. Literally.
But at least Summer and Warrek saved us from slavery. Now I just have to repair the relationships here and go on with my life like everything’s okay.
I’ve picked myself up off the floor before. I can do so again.
9
BROOKE
Present Day
“Drink,” a hissing voice tells me, and orange hands grip my throat. “Drink!”
I wake with a start, gasping.
I’m alone. There’s no one in my room with me. No orange aliens shoving laced drinks down my throat, no slave collar, no nothing. The room I’m in is empty, my furs spread out on the floor next to the bed. After weeks of sleeping on the ground, the strange bed feels too mushy, too weird. I push the furs off my sweaty skin, shivering.
Just a bad dream.
I wish Taushen was here. His big body would be perfect to snuggle up against until the bad dreams went away.
Of course, then I want to kick myself for thinking such a thing. Taushen hates me. He’s been cold to me ever since the rescue, as if I’m to blame for our situation.
Which, okay, I kind of am to blame. I’m the reason we got thrown in together like we were mates. But I had good intentions. I never meant to hurt his feelings, and after what we shared, to not even be friends? Or to get along like normal human beings that have to live in a very, very small tribe together? It sucks.
I lie back in the furs again, but I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see that orange hand reaching for my throat. With a sigh, I fling the covers back and get to my feet. The door to my room is open—Mardok didn’t want any of us accidentally locking ourselves into the ship, so the “door open” sequence has been set permanently —and I head down the hall toward the room that’s set up as a caf
eteria. It’s funny how some things are so strange and space-agey on this ship, but they still have basic things like a medical bay and a kitchen. It’s been days and we’ve been cleaning up the mess the slavers left, and now the ship is clean and tidy, free of the blood that spattered the walls, but it still doesn’t feel cozy. Doesn’t feel like home. It feels…well, kind of like an office building would feel. Cold. Uninviting.
I can’t imagine how Mardok lived here for years. I’d have gone nuts.
Of course, I’m not the only one up. I enter the kitchen area to find Harlow sitting at one of the uncomfortable, sa-khui-sized benches, a strange-looking drinking vessel in her hands. The scent of hot tea is in the air. She looks exhausted, dark hollows under her eyes, and her belly looks enormous in her loose leathers. She manages a wan smile at the sight of me. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nope. Nightmares.”
“Me too. Want some tea? You have to drink it out of this thing, though.” She holds the strange thing aloft, and it looks more like a gravy boat…or a smile—with no handles. “I can’t promise you won’t spill it all over yourself. I already have twice.” She gives me a wry smile. “I miss my favorite cup, but it’s back on the other ship, and it seemed silly to send Rukh to go get it.”
“Tea sounds great.” Better than going back to bed.
She gets up, waddling, and heads to the counter, pressing a few buttons and adding a sprinkle of herbs to one of the strange cups. “It’s so strange to have a ship with parts that actually work when you hit the controls,” she tells me with a little smile.
“I wouldn’t know, I don’t know how to use any of this stuff. I just try not to press anything.” I get up and take the cup from her, because it seems strange to have a pregnant lady waiting on me. She’s right, though. The mug’s hard to hold with no handle, and the inside of the cup is inversely domed, so it doesn’t hold all that much liquid. So strange. I take a sip, and the tea tastes familiar, at least. It’s bitter and strong, like all the sa-khui tea, but I’ve grown accustomed to it and think of it as having my coffee black. Not that we have coffee. I peek at Harlow over my cup. “So you can’t sleep, either?”
