Michaela

by Tracy St. John

  She was taking her hair down for the third time when she thought she heard the home’s main door opening and closing. Michaela paused and listened.

  Were those footsteps? Conversation? It was hard to be sure with the surf pounding outside the open archway of her dressing room. Maybe her clanmates were home with news about Zarl. Maybe they had captured the bastards who had done so much harm.

  Michaela half stood from her dressing table, which she’d found in the marketplace only days ago. The Joshadan importer had assured her it was handcarved. If so, the artisan had been enormously talented. The designs of fantastical figures and flowers were too intricate to be believed.

  Michaela gave herself a quick check in the mirror to make sure she looked pretty for her men. She’d discovered she wore horrific bedhead when she’d first got in front of the mirror. She made a face at herself, thinking that was the image Govi would be carrying with him all day.

  Reassured by her appearance, she called, “Hello? Is someone home? Govi? Korkla?”

  She listened, but no one called back to her. Funny. She could have sworn someone had come in. Maybe they were in a part of the house where it was hard to hear. Maybe the surf outside overwhelmed her voice.

  Michaela left her dressing room and wandered through the home. As she went, she inhaled the scent of the ocean. It smelled so good with the sea breeze wafting through the rooms. Michaela decided that when she went to Jessica’s level, she’d wait for her friend on one of the balconies. It was too beautiful a day to be indoors. Sunlight poured into the areas that opened onto the balconies of her home. Yes, she most definitely needed to be outside when possible today.

  Her nose pointed upward as she inhaled the lovely ocean scent, Michaela stepped into the common room.

  She was temporarily blinded by the dazzle of the morning sun beaming in through the archway. However, Michaela instantly identified the voice of Councilman Pwaldur when he said, “Here is my lovely new mate, home all by herself.”

  Michaela’s eyes adjusted just in time to see Nobek Marzklis looming over her. She identified him by the pictures that the news vids had been running all morning. The brutal face, primitive with its thick brow and huge jaw, showed no pity.

  Michaela yelped and tried to run before she thought about it. She didn’t have the opportunity turn away before the Nobek grabbed her and threw her onto the lounger cushions. He pinned her down.

  Michaela opened her mouth to scream as loudly as she could. However, Pwaldur was right there. His hand, as broad as befitted a man his size, covered her mouth, muffling her attempt to cry for help.

  He and Marzklis barely noticed her frantic struggles. The two men, both over the six-and-a-half foot mark, held Michaela down with no effort. When Dramok Wagnox and the hawk-faced Imdiko Stytyn pinned her legs and arms to the cushions, she finally gave up.

  Pwaldur looked her over with the air of a man who had just purchased an expensive bit of merchandise. Michaela’s stomach curdled at the way he eyed her splayed, helpless body.

  The traitorous councilman gave her a cold smile. “At long last, I get to introduce myself to the lovely boy-girl Michaela. I am so very happy to finally make your acquaintance.”

  The other three men chuckled. They seemed to find Pwaldur’s polite words amusing given they were holding Michaela prisoner.

  Then they started touching her, their hands seeking out inappropriate places. Michaela squalled in mingled horror and fury against Pwaldur’s palm. She doubled her efforts to fight them. It only resulted in more hateful laughter.

  Marzklis pinched one breast cruelly. “She is an enticing creature, Pwaldur. A little too enticing.”

  “She’s far too good for an aide’s clan.” Pwaldur leered at her. “Michaela, you are to be mine since I can’t abide that terrible creature who supplanted my daughter as princess. However, if you excite Marzklis too much, I will have to let him enjoy you.”

  The Nobek rubbed his crotch to bring Michaela’s attention to how aroused he was. Her stomach roiled to see it.

  He told her, “I love fighting for my fucks. Feel free to keep struggling, pretty one.”

  Wagnox licked blubbery lips. “If you’re sharing your Matara, Pwaldur, then it’s too bad we don’t know how soon any of our beloved princes will return with the other prize.”

  The bigger Dramok sighed with showy regret. “It is a shame. I would so enjoy shoving my cocks into this remarkable creature right now. However, we do need to get to the Crown Prince Clan’s quarters to await your Matara’s return.”

  With Pwaldur grabbing her all over, Michaela was hard pressed to understand they planned to take Jessica hostage as well. He hurt her, pinching and grasping with a brutal grip while the others held her down. She screamed her fury and pain to the men’s obvious delight.

  After a few seconds of that torment, Pwaldur let up. “Yet there is nothing wrong with building anticipation, my adorable, rare prize.” He gloated as he loomed over Michaela. “You will compensate me for all I’ve lost thanks to that bitch friend of yours.”

  He moved to take control of her ankles from the smirking Imdiko. “Find something to tie her up with, would you Stytyn? A gag as well. We’ll have her get us into the Crown Prince Clan’s home and wait for the other one.”

  Marzklis frowned at Pwaldur. “She’s not going to escape us. Besides, it’s more fun when they fight.”

  Pwaldur shook his head as he sat on Michaela’s lower legs. He reached up and slapped one of her breasts. When she howled from the brutal pain, Wagnox put his hand over her mouth, his other hand still keeping her wrists imprisoned.

  Pwaldur said, “I’d like both my hands free to play until the pretender gets home. Now, my beauty, lie very still and quiet.” His hand closed over Michaela’s crotch. He gave her a warning squeeze. “I know exactly how to hurt this part of you, so you’d do well to not fight any longer. Besides, if you indulge in too much struggling, Nobek Marzklis won’t be able to stop himself from enjoying you right here and now.”

  The Nobek grinned down at Michaela with vicious delight. With Pwaldur cupping her groin, Michaela did not doubt they would hurt her if she dared to continue fighting.

  She was forced to let the men tie and gag her. Then they carried her to the in-house transport, taking her up to the new Imperial Clan’s suite.

  Showing up at the door triggered it to open automatically, allowing the traitors to enter Jessica’s home. Michaela wanted to resist them. She tensed to fight.

  Marzklis showed her a huge knife and told her what he would do to her with it if she refused to cooperate. The threat made her instinctively press her thighs together, as if she could protect her most vulnerable parts. She knew the Nobek was not bluffing.

  When Jessica comes home, she’ll have Bevau, Clajak, and Egilka with her, Michaela told herself as the four monsters carried her into her friend’s home. They’ll be more than a match for these bastards. They’ll keep her safe and get me out of this mess.

  She could only pray that she was right. Otherwise, both women would be better off dead.

  * * * *

  Hours of waiting crawled by. Bound, Michaela was made to lie on the floor of the suite’s entertainment room. Meanwhile, Pwaldur and his friends prowled the quarters, investigating the home of the now-Imperial Clan. Marzklis had emerged from his foray with a particularly brutal-looking knife, one with serrated edges. He handed it to Pwaldur.

  “A souvenir, courtesy of Prince Bevau. He has quite the impressive arsenal. Just look at how that blade is fashioned, my friend. It will slide into your victim like their body is made of water, and rip them to shreds on the way back out.”

  Pwaldur hefted it and smiled. “I hope I have the opportunity to use it, particularly against that pathetic Clajak. What did you claim for yourself?”

  “Nothing. I want nothing that has been wielded in the hand of that half-Imdiko joke of a so-called warrior.”

  At that moment, Stytyn emerged from the kitchen area licking his fingers.
He scowled at Marzklis. “My breed is nothing to sneer at, my Nobek.”

  Marzklis favored him with a humorless smile. “No, not when there are men such as yourself who do not shrink from the sight of blood or cringe when a woman cries. However, Bevau is no true Nobek. He does not deserve to be called one.”

  Wagnox joined them. “We should put on the news vid and see how the search for us is progressing. We also want to celebrate when they announce Zarl’s death. I have found an ample supply of leshella.”

  “Take a bottle with you,” Pwaldur warned. “We do not impair ourselves with any drink until we get off this planet with our prizes.”

  His glance went to Michaela then. His hand stroked the vicious blade Marzklis had given him.

  The men settled on the curved lounger that was similar to the one in Michaela’s home, though not sunken. The news vid came to life. It was consumed with the assault on Zarl and the whereabouts of his attackers.

  It seemed to drone on forever. Michaela’s only consolation was that Pwaldur and his cronies didn’t touch her again. Pwaldur occasionally told her the things he planned to do with her, which made her want to retch. Laughing at her expression, Marzklis said he hoped Jessica was as unwilling as Michaela and that she would fight hard when he raped her.

  “Those who fight the hardest always break best,” the Nobek sneered.

  Michaela thought of Narpok. Hatred for the four men choked her. The worst of her rage was directed at Pwaldur, who listened to Marzklis’ words with no sign he connected them to his own daughter.

  He’s the most monstrous of them all, she thought. They carried those heinous acts out on that poor woman, but he allowed it. For all I know, he encouraged it.

  The thought made her more desperately afraid of Pwaldur than ever. Despite Marzklis and Stytyn belonging to Wagnox’s clan, it was Pwaldur they and their Dramok looked to for direction. It was as if Pwaldur was the true head of the clan, with Wagnox simply adding ideas and advice for his approval.

  Michaela wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the news they’d all waited for was finally relayed. Zarl had come through surgery alive and was expected to recover. Even as Michaela wept tears of relieved gratitude, the four traitors growled their displeasure.

  “How?” Marzklis yelled, coming to his feet and glaring at the vid as if he might attack the free-floating hologram. “He should be dead after what I did to him! When I knew I wouldn’t be able to take him hostage, I made sure he would not survive.” He turned to Pwaldur. “It is a false report, some kind of attempt to flush us out. The bastard must be dead. He cannot have escaped me twice.”

  Pwaldur drew a deep breath as if steadying his nerves. “Zarl is guarded by the ancestors. Against all odds, he survived the attempt that killed Empress Irdis. Now this. Fortune loves that man.”

  Michaela’s breath froze. Was Pwaldur saying that the crash that had killed Clajak’s mother and crippled Zarl had been Marzklis’ work? That he’d been part of the plan? But how could that be? Pwaldur’s clan had died in that accident and Narpok had been endangered as well. Surely he hadn’t been a part of that!

  Michaela’s eyes widened as the news vid showed footage of Jessica leaving the hospital in the company of several Royal Guards. It also captured her captors’ attention.

  Pwaldur’s tone filled with disbelieving hopefulness. “Could it be the fools are sending the bitch home with only her guards?”

  Marzklis’ rage disappeared in an instant. “That would be a most fortunate stroke of luck. The Royal Guards usually don’t enter the home with members of the imperial family. If they stay in the transport when she comes in—”

  “The footage time is from five minutes ago, which means they could be here at any moment. Look, the report is confirming the little bitch is just now landing in the Royal House’s bay. Let’s make ready. Come along, my pet.”

  Pwaldur stooped down, reaching for Michaela. She cringed and tried to roll away, but Pwaldur caught her up and slung her over his shoulder, which drove into her gut. The force of the motion drove a grunt from her. She ignored the dull pain in her belly and tried to kick Pwaldur.

  The Dramok cursed. Then pain made Michaela scream against her gag as his hand slammed across her ass over and over. He beat her until she sobbed.

  Pwaldur didn’t even sound out of breath as he adjusted her weight. “That’s nothing compared to what I’ll do to you with a strap or a whip. Now then, let’s see if you can behave yourself like a good little fuck slave or I’ll bruise you from head to toe.”

  The others chuckled as they fell in line behind Pwaldur. He led the group to the greeting room, which was in complete darkness. Michaela could hear them moving about the space quietly, getting into position to surprise Jessica and anyone who might come in with her.

  Rather than easing Michaela to the floor, Pwaldur let her drop. She fell onto one shoulder and hip, and pain flared anew. She cried out, and a booted foot nudged hard against her chest. “Be silent, or I will make you pay,” Pwaldur snarled.

  That he meant it, Michaela did not doubt. However, she was terrified for Jessica. If she could have killed the lot of them, she would have.

  The next few seconds were the worst Michaela had ever known. She spent them in the dark, listening for the sound of the door opening. She prayed to a deity she did not believe in, begging whatever power ran the universe that it would see fit to send the Royal Guards in with Jessica.

  Meanwhile, the traitors muttered amongst themselves. When they suddenly went silent, Michaela knew someone had arrived in the transport outside the still-closed entrance to the home.

  Michaela’s ears strained to hear as well. She heard the far-off rumble of the ocean. She thought she heard voices.

  Please Jessica, please bring the guards in with you. Don’t come in here alone where these animals can take you hostage.

  The door opened to the transport hallway, letting a small amount of light into the room. Michaela saw a lone, familiar silhouette step inside and pause. She also saw Nobek Marzklis’ big frame crouched next to the door, not detected by Jessica. Then the door shut behind Michaela’s friend, trapping her inside with murderous enemies.

  Michaela aimed a kick towards where she knew Pwaldur stood, hoping to knock him off his feet and cause enough confusion for Jessica to get away. Her angle was bad, however. She only succeeded in kicking the floor hard.

  She started to cry out a warning, but her muffled attempt was covered by Jessica’s voice. “Lights up half.”

  Michaela’s eyes had adjusted for darkness. When the lights in the greeting room came up, she was blinded. She heard rather than saw Marzklis pick Jessica up and toss her across the room. The impact was a resounding boom.

  Pwaldur’s smug voice assaulted her ears. “Welcome home, my empress.”

  Michaela’s sight was recovering. Between squinting lids, she saw Jessica struggle to get up on all fours. Her friend’s eyes were wide as she saw her assailants. They widened still more when her gaze landed on Michaela.

  She shouted, “Com, call the Royal Guard!”

  Marzklis laughed, stalking towards her. “Communications from this suite have been blocked.”

  Jessica looked about, her expression desperate as she undoubtedly searched for a weapon. Michaela looked too, hoping against hope she would find a way to help her friend.

  Jessica wasn’t waiting for rescue, however. She leapt to her feet and started to run. She got all of two steps towards the door leading further into the home before Marzklis caught her.

  The Nobek twisted the new empress’ arm hard behind her back. Jessica screamed in pain. Michaela screamed in sympathetic horror.

  Wagnox stepped up to his Nobek and the struggling woman. With a slight smile he said, “Don’t hurt her too badly, my Nobek. You don’t want your new mate incapacitated. Where we’re going, women are a rarer commodity than even on Kalquor.”

  Marzklis laughed, seeming to enjoy how Jessica fought against him. “She will make a suitable r
eplacement for Narpok. I like my toys unwilling.”

  Meanwhile, Pwaldur stepped close to them as well, his face brutal with a scowl. “You cost us everything we’ve worked for,” he spat at Jessica. “Whatever Wagnox’s clan does to you won’t be bad enough.”

  Stytyn’s cold smile chilled Michaela worse than Pwaldur’s fury. “I have many ideas for her punishment, my friend. I can’t say I’m upset we failed to take Zarl as a hostage. This one is far more to my liking.”

  Pwaldur turned his back on the group, his gaze riveted on Michaela as he came back to her. She screeched her rage as he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.

  He told Jessica, “You can thank your friend here for letting us into your suite. She wasn’t willing, but her mere presence was enough to trip the access.”

  Jessica shrieked, “Leave Michaela alone! You don’t need her to get off Kalquor.”

  Pwaldur reached beneath Michaela’s skirt and rubbed her ass. The pain from the earlier beating and her outrage made her squirm and squeal in hopeless protest.

  Ignoring her cries, Pwaldur told Jessica, “But I like her. She’s such a rare creature to be wasted on the clan of a mere aide. Clajak choosing you instead proves his stupidity.”

  Michaela felt her skirt lifted up, the hem brushing her upper thigh. A hard wetness gripped the muscle there. Pain walloped her as Pwaldur bit hard into her leg. She shrieked in equal parts hatred and agony.

  Marzklis’ voice sounded impatient. “Enough talk. We must leave now.”

  After a few more threats, they did so. Michaela was carried into the in-house transport, slung like a sack of potatoes against Pwaldur’s broad back.

  They’d made Jessica their hostage and now they were taking both women away to a fate Michaela couldn’t contemplate. Bound helpless, there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it. Her helpless, furious tears dripped down to the floor as the transport carried the group and their prisoners to the shuttle bay.

  Chapter 22