Soul Bond

by Christine Price

  Slave contracts. They want us to sign ourselves over to slave contracts. That has to be it. A contract for an adult human male could run as high as twenty thousand eiroes—two months of work paid for with a stroke of a pen. It was the only thing that made sense in the senselessness of Ezvorkian’s torture.

  Crack.

  “What are you willing to sacrifice?”

  “What the fuck do you want me to say?” Julian finally shouted. “What could you possibly be looking for?”

  Ezvorkian smiled. “Honesty. That’s all. I asked a question and I want an answer. What would you be willing to sacrifice in order for my man to lower the whip and send you merrily back along your way?”

  Julian sniffed. The whip was still, giving him time to force coherent thought through the hazy cobwebs of pain cozening his mind. His eyes squeezed shut and he tried to focus. There had been no indication that Ellis and Barth were alive, and in the two days they had been captive, there hadn’t been so much as a token rescue attempt. Combined with some of Ezvorkian’s insinuations, Julian was beginning to suspect that they had not just “stumbled across” the distress call. The thought of his best friend and his lover trapped in the same unending cycle of anguish was almost as painful as the whip to his back, but for the life of him he could not bring himself to say what he suspected Ezvorkian wanted of him.

  With the last of his strength, he pulled against the manacles binding his wrists, his weak shoulder muscles screaming as he forced his body up. Ezvorkian watched with impassive eyes as Julian managed to drag himself to his feet. Meeting his eyes, Julian spat a combination of blood and spittle. It struck Ezvorkian just below his right eye, and though his face maintained the same neutrality that had marked his expression since he had entered the room, his eyes lit up with silent rage.

  “I would rather die than live as your slave.”

  Ezvorkian rose from his place on his hoverboard, his withered figure barely strong enough to stand on its own. The alien wiped the spit away from his face and flicked the spittle off his hand.

  “Thank you, Captain Gaspar. That can be arranged.” It seemed they were going to take Julian at his word. Ezvorkian nodded at the brute behind him and returned to his place on the hoverboard. His crew member kicked Julian’s knee, efficiently dropping him back to the ground, and began to unbind his wrists.

  Julian scowled at Ezvorkian. “And my crew?”

  “What? The Cembrian and your catamite? Just because you’re being disagreeable doesn’t mean I won’t have any success with them.”

  So they were still alive. Julian wondered if the slip was deliberate to haunt him with images of Barth and Ellis being tortured in a similar manner.

  Ezvorkian chuckled. The dry sound, like a wind across sand, rasped against his raw skin like a new abrasion. “You’d be surprised what desperation can do to a weak mind. I have asked what you would be willing to sacrifice. I would be remiss in my duty as your captor if I did not ask them the same.”

  “Don’t you dare touch them!” The words wrenched themselves out of Julian’s lungs, the last of his angry energy expelled with the force of the roar.

  A rare smile drew itself across Ezvorkian’s face. His lips cracked with the strain, and the pallid, dry skin of his face drew into lines reminiscent of a desert floor. “My dear Julian, I don’t need to. You’ve done all of my work for me.”

  The wide arm of Ezvorkian’s underling circled Julian’s throat, tightening immediately to prevent him from drawing another breath. Julian ineffectually grabbed at the heavy bicep, trying and failing to tear it away. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and he felt his entire body slump in weakness. A heartbeat away from unconsciousness, the grip lessened just enough for him to draw a line of air into his lungs. It was not enough to let him struggle as the man dragged him out of Ezvorkian’s sight.

  The hallways of the Ethervold were dim and labyrinthine. Before Julian registered their path, he was being tossed back into his cell. He dropped to the ground. His entire back was aflame, and he couldn’t gather the necessary strength to stand. The doors closed audibly behind him.

  An hour seemed to pass before he was able to shift enough to draw a breath through the pain igniting his senses. He rolled over and pressed his bare back against the cool sheet-metal floor. It was both agonizing and soothing. He loosed a ragged gasp.

  The cell was empty. No surprise there: Ezvorkian had separated them the moment they’d come aboard. Thoughts of Ezvorkian’s threats came to mind and Julian gagged at the thought of Ellis’s death. Combined with the lingering pain, it was almost enough to keep him from moving, but he forced himself to sit up.

  The unbearable silence stretched out around him and Julian adjusted his battered body again.

  What are you willing to sacrifice?

  Outside the cell, the sound of the lock being disengaged drew his attention. This was a break in routine. Before now, they’d waited a few hours before fetching him back to Ezvorkian’s cabin.

  The doors opened and Ellis stepped inside. His lover’s face was pale, but there was no sign of any damage. The sight filled Julian with palpable relief and he just barely managed to stand. Ellis made no effort to help him, his stare cool and unforgiving.

  “Ellis? Are you all right?” Some of his strength seemed to be returning. He braced himself on a nearby wall, but was soon capable of standing on his own.

  Ellis regarded him with disdain. “I’m fine. Just disappointed.”

  Julian frowned. “What?”

  “The great Julian Gaspar.” Ellis sniffed. “I begged my way aboard your ship because I expected you to live up to your reputation. But at the end of the day, you’re nothing more than a limp-dicked Coalition lapdog.”

  Julian stared at him, his face twisting into a frown. “‘Limp-dicked Coalition lapdog?’” He spat out an angry response, unable to bite back the words. “How do you figure? I saved you from being vented when we took over the Halygast.”

  “If I’d known that going with you would be such a waste of my time, I would have chosen the vent. Here we are, trapped aboard and probably about to die because you were too incompetent to protect us!”

  “You wretched little ingrate,” Julian growled. Something inside of him snapped. The pain was already playing havoc with his senses and the condemnation was enough to push his temper to the breaking point. “After all this time, were you just warming my bed waiting for a better offer to come along?”

  “If I was, it seems that I won’t be kept waiting much longer.”

  “Is that how you played the others you’ve fucked? Or was I a special case?”

  “There was nothing special about you, Julian. Ezvorkian is offering me more than you ever could.”

  “Whore!” Julian shouted. “Orifian was right about you all along!”

  “He was also right about how easy you were to manipulate. Bat my eyes, wet my lips and you were practically mine for the taking. You’re lucky I wasn’t a spy for the Frenze! I could have ended the entire war with the information I managed to wriggle out of you while you were wriggling into me.”

  Julian saw red. He shrugged off the pain still stinging his back and lunged at Ellis, grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him back against the cell doors. The walls practically shook with the force, but Ellis did not break eye contact. He raised his chin, fixing Julian with a haughty expression of contempt.

  “What’s Ezvorkian offering you? Or are you just trying to save your own skin?” Julian demanded. Ellis glared at him. “You call me pathetic? When you’re so desperate to save your own life that you’re willing to snuggle up with a corpse-feeler? You make me sick.”

  Anger warred with tearing grief in his chest—more painful than the torture had been—and he pushed Ellis again. The younger man winced when his back connected with the wall again. The sight shook Julian enough that he dropped his arms.

  Despite the sudden desire to wipe the smug expression of superiority off his face, Julian stepped back. Ellis would
not make him a monster. “You’re not worth the time I spent on you.”

  “Funny. I was just thinking the same thing. Fortunately, I can start making amends to myself.”

  Julian grabbed at him again. Before he could get a hit in, Ellis whipped around and pressed his hand against Julian’s bare torso. Pain, lightning-hot and unbearable, whipped across Julian’s senses and sent him toppling to the ground. Through traitorous tears, he spotted a small stun ring seated on Ellis’s hand.

  His former lover’s dispassionate gaze lasted only until he knocked on the doors. For a heartbeat, something flickered behind his eyes. A dream of pain that Julian wanted so desperately to see. The phantom was quickly dismissed, leaving him to wonder if it had been there at all. Then the doors slid open and Ellis stepped out.

  “We’re done, Julian.”

  “I wish you’d never crossed my path.”

  Ellis paused in his step. A rueful chuckle shook his shoulders. “That certainly would have saved us both a lot of trouble.”

  The doors swished closed behind him, leaving Julian alone once more. The raw rage behind his scowl could have burrowed through the metal. His jaw locked and his hands shook with minute tremors. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, trying to prevent himself from crying out. The pain still throbbing dully against his back suddenly seemed minor in comparison to the ripping in his heart.

  Slowly he rose and limped back to the lone cot in the room. Slumping down, he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids. Stinging tears began to well behind them, and sickening coils of grief wound through his stomach.

  Chapter Ten

  Aboard the Ethervold, heading unknown

  Coalition Standard Date 108-515.9

  Hours passed in a blur of pain. Sitting solitary and still on the cot, Julian fought with himself over Ellis’s words. It was impossible to get his thoughts straight through the pain that still whipped across his body. The charred skin at his side throbbed every time his arm so much as brushed it; each time reminded him of the look on Ellis’s face after he’d clapped the stun ring against him. Despair warred with anger. Coming aboard the Ethervold heralded the end to everything. His tenure as captain. His friendship with Barth. And his relationship with Ellis. The latter two stung the most. Barth had been a loyal friend for years. And Ellis…

  He’d loved Ellis more deeply than he had anyone before. And knowing that he’d been so used wrung him out more than the torture had. Had he brought this upon himself? In all their time together, he’d never told Ellis the depth of his feelings. If he’d done so, could this have been avoided?

  He snarled and hit his hand against the wall, impotent to do anything more than torment himself with half-formed guilt. Ellis had made his choice. And, perhaps, there was some cold comfort in knowing that he would live if Julian and Barth didn’t.

  The doors engaged and Julian found himself once again on the wrong end of multiple blasters. He stood slowly, numb to the sight of the weapons aimed his way. One of the crewmen waved at him.

  “Is this when I’m executed?” He laughed harshly. “You couldn’t have come an hour earlier?” Before Ellis had. At least then he might have died without the sickening heartbreak. Mutely, he followed them out of the brig. He half expected them to lead him towards the incinerator room and fought back growing surprise and misplaced hope when he was escorted to the shuttle bay.

  He saw no sign of Ezvorkian, but the Eyas seemed to be in perfect condition, untouched by the violence that had defined the past three days. Julian spotted Barth lying unconscious next to the shuttle and broke away from his captors to help the Cembrian.

  Once the alien was tucked against his side, Julian faced Ezvorkian’s crew. “Am I supposed to believe that you’re just letting us leave?”

  Julian didn’t expect a response and didn’t receive one. Ezvorkian’s crew never spoke. Not wanting to chance the strange turn of luck, he opened the control panel and punched in the code to open the shuttle hatch. If the plan was to shoot the Eyas out of the sky, they were in for a surprise.

  Stopping halfway up the gangway, Julian quickly scanned the deck of the Ethervold. He wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or despair when he didn’t see Ellis among the crew. Taking a shaky breath, he boarded the shuttle. The second the hatch closed, he spared a quick minute to examine his engineer and friend. Barth didn’t look good. His facial ridges had been cracked, and the stiff gristle of cartilage glistened under the dim overhead lights. Julian propped him up in one of the seats, strapping him in tightly. He took his own place in the pilot’s seat, relieved to see the bay doors opening.

  He needed no more prompting. He hit the ignition. As soon as the bay doors opened enough for the Eyas to squeeze out, he punched it forward. Stars snapped in and out of his field of vision as they slid into their fastest drive and sped away from the damned ship.

  Silence reigned aboard the shuttle for over an hour after they had left the Ethervold behind them. His scans confirmed that there was no sign of the Kestrel. Part of him hoped that Ezvorkian had just told Orifian they were dead, but Orifian was Coalition-bred—he would not have believed such statements without confirmation. And while the Ethervold outgunned the Kestrel, Orifian could have called upon the Coalition for assistance.

  It made far more sense to conclude that his chief mate had betrayed them. He couldn’t fathom any other reason for Ezvorkian fixating on him and his small boarding party. Even if all three of them had signed slave contracts, they weren’t worth what the Kestrel had aboard. Ezvorkian could have easily bested the Kestrel in a firefight and taken everything in the cargo bay. What he had done was far more personal.

  Julian rubbed a rough hand down his face. He was still in pain and his thoughts were disjointed from the combined physical and mental fatigue. Trying to focus on anything was useless. Ellis’s words kept replaying in his mind. He fought back the childish desire to punch the steering column.

  There was a space station less than a day’s flight from where the Ethervold had loosed them. He and Barth could make it that far. Then he would go about hunting his ship down.

  A growl behind him alerted the captain to Barth waking. The sound of the alien cursing was a strange balm to Julian’s frayed nerves. He engaged the autopilot and slipped out of his seat.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Barth grimaced, but he managed to check Julian over. “About as terrible as you look. Did we escape, were we rescued or are we dead?”

  “They let us go.” Julian couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for the words.

  Barth’s nose ridge flared and he straightened in his seat. He tersely glanced around the shuttle. “Where’s Ellis?”

  “Back on the Ethervold.” Julian moved away. Focusing on the stars was a bare comfort, but it took him away from Barth’s scrutiny. “He got what he wanted.”

  “What?” Barth clawed at the safety restraints and forced himself up. He swayed on unsteady legs, but stormed up to the pilot’s seat. “You left him?” Julian did not dignify the question with a response. “How could you leave him?”

  “He’s a ship-hopper, Barth. Not much better than a Glemisian prostitute. He made it clear that Ezvorkian was offering more than I could.” He couldn’t help the bitter tone.

  Barth stood in silence, hovering over Julian’s shoulder. “Wow. They really must have done a number on you to make you believe that steaming pile of shit. How many times did they hit your head, Captain?”

  “Why do you even care? Or did he worm his way into your bed, too?”

  Barth took a steadying breath. “In the interest of our friendship, I’m going to ignore that.” He leaned over, his inhuman features suddenly prominent in Julian’s view. “Let me ask you something, Julian. If you’d had a way to spare us whatever it was that that corpse-feeler had in mind, would you have done it?”

  Julian’s hands tightened to a white-knuckled grip on the steering column. “Of course I would have.”

  “And if Ellis had a way to
do it, would he?” Before Julian could reply, Barth continued. “Ask yourself one better. Knowing how fucking stubborn you are, what would he have seen as the best way to get us the hell off that deathtrap?”

  Julian bit back his denial. His mind raced with Barth’s words. Nothing had suggested that had been Ellis’s plan. He had been calm and collected—to the point where the cool regard had seemed alien on his features. Julian’s stomach clenched and his hands began to shake once again. “No. He wouldn’t have. Not for me.”

  “Just for you, you stupid bastard. He loves you so fucking much that it humbles me.”

  Julian rose, staggering away from his seat. Barth did not step out of his way, and Julian forced his way past his friend as a sudden intense claustrophobia overcame him. He moved to the far end of the shuttle. Staring at the metal walls, he tried to calm his racing heart and too-quickened breath. Barth said nothing.

  His knees gave way, depositing him on the deck. A scream of denial tried to tear its way from his throat. Barth was suddenly beside him and Julian grasped the hand the Cembrian offered. Cool talons against his skin steadied him enough that he was able to choke back the scream. It turned into a pained half-sob and Julian swallowed around it, burning his throat.

  His chest heaved with the effort to keep in the wracking pain biting at his lungs when he considered his words to Ellis. He should have seen through it, should have found a way to fight through the frozen exterior. Ellis had been trying to save his life, and whatever price Ellis had paid, he would live believing Julian hated him.

  “We have to go back for him.”

  “There’s nothing we can do without the Kestrel.” The Cembrian admitted to the fact with a generous amount of self-loathing. They sat in grim silence, their only comfort the lone point of contact between them.

  The space station was a full twenty-four standard hours away. The entire time, Julian found himself replaying Ellis’s words in his head. There had been the one lone chink in Ellis’s armor, towards the end, and Julian found himself wondering over and over again if he’d imagined it. There’d been no other indication that he’d been anything other than sincere, but even so Julian cursed himself for his own failures. He should have seen through it. Should have known that Ellis… Ellis loved him. Should have told him. That might have broken through.