by Maree Dry
“What are you using?”
“Using?”
“You know the drug that gives you the strength to break us out of here.” She had to tread carefully.
So far he seemed remarkably stable. If he was on Superman Crack, he could turn violent anytime.
“I do not use drugs. I am warrior.” His voice had dipped low, dangerously low.
“Uh, okay.”
His crazy mind must have come up with the fantasy of him being a warrior. She could think of a few apt words to describe him but warrior wasn’t one of them. They sat in silence again, until she couldn’t bear the agonized moans of their fellow captives and the smells and his nearness anymore. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he lifted the cap off her head and allowed her hair to tumble down her back.
“Your hair is like Solari Silk.”
“Uhm, thank you, I think.”
Solari must be a new company or place where the family found a way to do business. Or maybe this mysterious Zacar owned it.
“How do you care for it?”
He moved his fingers through her hair and starting at her scalp he ran them through to the ends. Goosebumps broke out over every inch of her skin. He couldn’t have gotten a better reaction from her if he had gone for the obvious pleasure points on her body.
She searched for something to say, anything to take his mind off touching her hair. This was her family’s enforcer. A vicious man sent to kill or bring her back for torture. She had no business sitting in his lap, enjoying him playing with her hair. “What if the person coming here, can’t give you the information you want?”
“He will not dare to deny me.”
Menace filled the air around them. She could’ve sworn he grew bigger and again she thought she saw red flash in his eyes. He stilled and it was as if he drew any violent emotion deep inside and buried it. The sense of dread dissipated and he seemed to lose interest in their conversation.
John pulled her closer with the arm not playing with her hair. His touch remained gentle, that maddening combing of her hair with his fingers, the inevitable massaging of her scalp.
It all played tricks on her mind, fooling it into thinking it was safe to trust him. To respond to his touch. The hand on her back moved to her waist, glided over her ribs to rest under her breasts.
“I want to kiss you.” He cocked his head and stared at her lips with intent blue eyes. His thumb stroked the underside of her breast and her body surged alive. “And I want to use my tongue.”
Chapter 6
Julia cringed back from him, not caring that she pressed against the dirty wall. This could not be happening to her. She frantically tried to think of a way to distract him. His hand still rested under her breasts, his thumb continuing that maddening caress that elicited a response from what felt like every nerve end in her body.
“Before, when the revered caught us, why did you step in front of me? It’s not like you to sacrifice yourself for anyone else.”
“You question my honor?” he asked in a clipped growl.
The air chilled, stilled and, for a moment, there was dead silence as the moans and screams of the other prisoners quieted.
His jaw clenched and the muscles bunched there pulsed in an angry rhythm. A foreign rhythm.
She ducked under his arm and darted to the other side of the small room. “Uh, no. Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He didn’t follow, just looked at her with those predator’s eyes. Calculating.
“Come here, Julia.”
She held her hands out in a futile effort to hold him off. “Please, don’t.”
“Come here.” He didn’t point, the inflection of his voice didn’t change. And that scared her more than his shouting would’ve done. Whatever she did, she had to ensure she didn’t enrage him. She shuddered and looked at the other cages. What he would do to her and the other prisoners in a drug-induced rage would make her father look like a saint.
It took every inch of control she had to overcome her need to run. She took a shaky step toward him and focused on the third button on his shirt. It was just a kiss. No biggie. She could live through a kiss with a drug-crazed man who’d been willing to stop a bullet for her.
“Please, remember how easily you broke the bars. You could break me, too.”
She prayed with everything in her that he found her wanting in the kissing department. Maybe then he’d never want to do it again.
“I would never hurt my breeder. I have honor.”
“Uh, okay. That’s good to know.”
“Closer.” His voice was husky now, his body taut but with a different tension.
Slowly she stepped closer to him. He reached out and clasped her upper arms--pulled her so close, she could feel every inch of him vibrate against her. His eyes burned with cold blue flames. Once again, he confused her senses, as if what her eyes saw and her body felt did not compute.
“My breeder,” he huffed and then he kissed her.
His lips moved over hers, almost tentatively. She knew he’d had dozens of women, had seen them fawn over him. So why did it feel as if he’d never done this before?
She stood absolutely still. Afraid to do anything to set him off. The kiss changed, became more insistent. He grunted low in his throat and placed his thumb on her chin to open her mouth. She moaned in protest because he kept her uncomfortably wide. Her jaw aching, Julia stood there, unable to do anything but endure while he invaded her mouth.
His tongue touched hers, almost tentatively, and she forgot the ache in her jaw, the uncomfortable angle of her neck. Pleasure bubbles zoomed through her bloodstream. He lifted his head. Angry at him for causing such a reaction in her body, Julia wiped her lips and could’ve sworn his eyes shot sparks at her.
“You do not like my tongue?”
“It’s uncomfortable to have my mouth open that wide.”
This had to be the weirdest conversation she ever had. It was hard to remember who she dealt with when he was this almost sweet person.
Almost.
“You will rest now while I guard you.”
Julia nodded and sat down with her arms across her knees, her head on her arms. She didn’t have the energy to talk to him anymore. He confused her and the way her body reacted to such a thug shamed her.
***
Zurian stood guard over his Julia. He’d used the appearance of many species before but this was the first time a disguise laid this heavy on his shoulders. He wanted her to see him when he kissed her, not an ugly human. Not a human she knew and despised before.
She lay curled up on his spread jacket, her hair shining like a star in the gloomy basement. It disturbed him, the way she fit her whole body so easily on the jacket. When she’d fought with him, he enjoyed her smaller, rounder size--but her spirit made her seem bigger. Now he saw how really tiny she was.
A human in a cage near them jerked upright and screamed hysterically. Julia’s body jerked but she didn’t make a sound.
Zurian moved so that he could look the screaming human in the eye. The little man stopped the noise that upset Julia with an audible gulp. He turned to find her watching him. He resisted the urge to glance at the cage to their left in the far darkest part of the cellar. The male who had come to her house lay there unconscious. He had not moved since they came into the basement but Zurian could hear him breathe. If she knew he was captured as well, she would feel concern and focus on the yellow-haired male.
Zurian had seen the interested glances she gave the male when he came to her house. The same glances he saw Natalie give Zacar. Zurian knew Julia recoiled from his true form. She’d tried many times to stop him from entering her house. Never looked at him the way she’d looked at the yellow-haired puny human. He squeezed the steel bars. She even told him she thought he looked like a demon. An ugly horned creature from their mythology who lived in Hell.
He frowned down at the bent bars on the floor. Human technology was so inferior he still didn’t understand why they had to conque
r a planet so far away. They should have left and found another planet. Getting supplies proved nearly impossible and they had not had one worthy battle.
He glanced at her. The only pleasing human on a planet of beings that should be made extinct. He did the kiss wrong. In the human manuals, they said to open the woman’s mouth with your lips and stick your tongue in their mouth. They would try again, until she enjoyed the kiss too. He would stick his tongue farther into her mouth until she learned to crave him.
Julia sat up and regarded him with a sleepy look he found pleasing. “What time--”
Zurian held up his hand and turned his head toward the door of the basement. The humans moved like a herd of livas.
She sat up and pushed her hair beneath her cap again before she scrambled off his jacket. He pulled her behind him and felt her small hands rest on his middle.
The door crashed open and Jackson swaggered in. “Now, ain’t this cozy.”
He stood in front of the bars and leered at them. Zurian waited for him to step closer, just one step and he would end this worthless human who dared threaten Julia. The man’s gaze fell on the broken bars and he stumbled back from the cell.
“Oh shit, he’s on crack.” He ran out, the other thugs close on his heels.
“He’s going to tell them you’re on superman crack,” Julia said and her hands gripped his shirt until it pulled too tight around him.
“Superman crack?” he asked, puzzled by their conclusion.
She had asked him earlier about drugs. That must be what crack referred to.
“You know, the stuff that made you strong enough to bend the bars,” she said.
He carefully turned and took her hands in his. “I am not using this Superman Crack. I am a warrior.”
***
The reverend and what seemed like all his men stormed into the basement, armed with their whole arsenal.
“I think we’re in trouble,” she said and seriously considered hiding behind him again.
When Jackson had come in and John had pulled her behind him, she’d felt an inexplicable sense of safety, almost peace.
The reverend strolled up to their cell in that ridiculous way he thought denoted piety and leadership at the same time.
She almost snorted. He was a small fry and would find out soon enough what happened when you played with the big guys.
“How did you get in there?” the reverend demanded, gesturing at Julia’s cell.
“I broke the bars and stepped through,” John answered in all seriousness and she had to suppress a giggle at the look on the reverend’s face.
“Ask a stupid question,” she mumbled and John pulled her tight against his hard body.
They had men pointing guns at them and miserable people trapped in cages and all she was aware of for one crazy moment was that he smelled different. Coffee and spice. Enticing.
“Are you on Superman Crack?” the reverend asked, even as he took several hasty steps back.
Julia nearly rolled her eyes. Of course, a junkie was going to confess to being on drugs. Not!
His men cocked their guns and pointed them at John. He stepped in front of her.
“Boss?”
“What?” the reverend snapped, without taking his eyes of John. The pure terror on the reverend’s face was absolutely beautiful.
“We’ve got incoming boss,” the thug said.
Julia rolled her eyes where she stood pressed against John’s warm back. Did he really think his fake soldier talk made him more macho?
Julia peeked around John. Chains clanged as a group of straggly people walked single-file into the basement. In some of their faces she saw resignation and others bewilderment and fear. An older woman stumbled and fell and a small oily looking man kicked her viciously. “Get up, bitch.”
John locked onto him with a predatory gaze that should’ve made the little man run for cover.
Still staring at the oblivious little man, John pushed Julia back behind him. “Back, Julia.”
She heard the sound she now recognized as steel bars breaking, took a deep breath, and said a prayer. He stepped through, towering over the reverend. All the guns pointed squarely at him. “Stay behind me,” John said.
“You will give me the message you carry to the reverend and tell me why you are searching for Natalie Hanson,” John told the oily little man, who was obviously a slaver.
Julia gasped and covered her mouth. How did John know Natalie? All kinds of conspiracy theories raced through her head.
“Get back in there,” the reverend screamed.
“No,” John said, so seriously the moment was almost comic. “Why are you looking for Natalie Hanson,” he asked the little man again.
“I ask the questions here,” the reverend screamed at him.
Julia noticed he did his screaming from a safe distance. The reverend, his men, and the oily little man that interested John, all cowered before him. She shouldn’t, but she really enjoyed their fear. Pigs. All of them. Trading children as if they were livestock. Kicking old people.
Still ignoring the reverend, John spoke very quietly but every hair on her body stood straight up. “Answer me or I will cut you into pieces.”
The slaver glanced at the broken bars, paled, and wiped a sweaty palm over his oily hair before his finger went to his nostril, obviously a nervous habit. Julia gagged and clutched her stomach. Why would these people want her friend and how did John know Natalie?
“I don’t mind telling you ’bout the Hanson woman. Everyone knows Murdoch was killed ’cause a her. Someone high up wants to use her to trap big prey. Didn’t know there was a higher up anymore.” The little man stepped back, shaking so much Julia thought she could hear his knees knocking. “But I don’t have any message,” the man almost sobbed.
Who could he be that afraid of?
Next to her, John tensed. The very atmosphere chilled and even the guards with the big guns took a step back.
“You will give me the message but first tell me who do they want to trap?”
Before the oily little man could answer, a shot ran out and Julia clutched her ears as the slaver slowly crumpled to the cement floor. She couldn’t look away from the red stain spreading under the pathetic figure.
“I said I’m the one in charge here. You don’t get to ask the questions,” the reverend said, pointing the laser rifle squarely at John’s chest.
Julia almost snorted out loud. Fat lot of good that would do him against someone on Superman Crack. John would just keep going, no matter his injuries. But she and the other captives might not fare that well once all these idiots started shooting.
“Yeah, we’re gonna kill you and take your bitch,” Jackson said.
She’d heard and seen worse from John but, the way he stiffened in front of her, you’d think he was offended. Julia stepped from behind John to give Jackson a piece of her mind.
John stepped in front of her and, at the same time, reached out and casually snapped Jackson’s neck. With just one hand.
She stared at the body on the ground with its neck at a strange angle. All she could think of was the pistol that had been oddly bent as well.
Slowly, very slowly, John’s head turned and he looked at the reverend. “You need to die, human.”
The temperature in the stuffy basement dropped and she saw several of the reverend’s men stumble back.
“I think once again you forget who is in charge here. Boys, if he so much as twitches you shoot the bitch.”
Several of the rifles pointed to her.
John moved in front of her and stood with his feet braced apart and his arms crossed over his chest. A better person might object to him being her shield but Julia was grateful for every inch of him in front of her.
“Shoot him,” the reverend said.
John crowded her back into her cell. Loud shots rang in the cellar and Julia screamed. His body shook with the impact of the laser hits and bullets. As if they hadn’t just shot him full of holes, he
moved through them with blurring speed. When he killed the first thug, the reverend ran and most of his men followed.
John grabbed her arm.
“Stay behind me.”
“We have to get the others out.”
His eyes flared. “Stay behind me.”
She tugged on his arm and motioned to the other cages. “I’m not leaving without helping them.”
“You will obey me, breeder.”
She lifted her chin at him. “I will. Open the cages and I’ll do as you say.” She cast around for a reason that will convince him. “The reverend would hate to lose them.”
He snarled something at her that she couldn’t make out and she crossed her arms. “Help them or I’m not moving.”
Around them everyone was screaming and begging to be freed.
Keeping his body between her and the door where the reverend and his men had run out, John broke open the cages with his bare hands. The reverend screamed at the top of his lungs from outside. Julia stopped and gaped at the man staring at her from a cage in the farthest corner.
“Charles?”
In front of her John stiffened. “John, it’s Charles. Please break his cage open. Hurry.”
John hesitated and then broke open the cage. Grabbing Charles’s shirt, John dragged him out. “You take these people to safety,” he snarled in Charles’s face.
“John, he’s injured. He cannot--”
“I’m okay, Julia. I’ll take them to safety, ” Charles said.
She nodded, clenched her fists, and glared at John. “Aren’t you going to free the others? I won’t go anywhere until I know they’re free.”
If they could find some tools, they could break the cages open, but that would take time they didn’t have. No doubt the reverend would soon return with bigger and better weapons. John moved with that blurring speed and cracked open cells and cages. If she hadn’t see it happening in front of her, she wouldn’t believe it. “He’s on Superman Crack,” she whispered to Charles and picked up a child who crawled out of a cage.
