The Gigolo's Bride (The Necklace Chronicles)

by R. E. Butler

  "Why?"

  "You handled yourself so well. You didn't fight or cower in fright. You tried to encourage the others to stay calm. I've seen the vid they show inductees, and it's not very informative, but instead of panicking, you kept your head. I thought that being the last one taken would help you have time to come to terms with things. I hope it didn't make you panic too much, all that waiting." She smiled.

  "No, I don't know if I would have been more upset to be taken earlier or when I was. I just was trying to be calm and not fight. It didn't seem to work for any of the other women."

  "The men are trained to handle the women without hurting them. Commander Riya is very careful of the men on his team and chooses them wisely."

  Did Ashleigh detect a bit of affection for the handsome officer? "He was kind, so thank you for speaking up for me, even though I didn't know you had done that at the time."

  "He would have treated you well no matter what, but he assured me that he would be extra kind, and I'm glad that he was."

  When the sandwiches were put together, Ashleigh and Sloan ate on the couch with their plates in their laps and talked. When the time came for them to return back to Eden's room, Ashleigh wrapped up his sandwich in a napkin and carried it with her.

  When she handed the sandwich to Eden, his eyes lit up, and he thanked her by kissing her cheek. That night, as she watched him eat the sandwich she had made, she felt happy for the first time since she'd come on board.

  * * * * *

  She'd been there for eight days. Time seemed to stand still sometimes and the boredom made her antsy and annoyed. That evening, she looked in the refrigerator for some ronii, but found none. She hadn't meant to complain out loud, but Eden took her words to heart and promised to return soon with the fruit from the market.

  But he didn't return. She waited for hours, watching vids and flipping through a few art books on the table. She couldn’t read them because they were written in the Norlanian language, but the pictures were beautiful.

  Her emotions ran the gamut from worried to angry. Her ears strained to hear the sound of footsteps out in the hall or the whoosh of the door opening.

  I miss him. She frowned, not realizing just how much she’d come to rely on his presence until he'd been gone so long without leaving word for her. She missed the way he ran his hands through his hair when he was frustrated, and the way he would look at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She had accepted that she was never going to go home, but she’d never allowed herself to really admit that her feelings were growing for him every day. He was sweeter and kinder than any man she’d ever known, treating her like a princess no matter how many times she asked to be taken home, how often she took his kindness for granted. Had she ever even said thank you to him? Had she ever shown him in any way that she was growing to love him? She wasn’t sure she had, because she’d been trying so hard to shut up that part of herself in the beginning that she didn’t think she’d let go and just let herself feel what she felt for him.

  She fell asleep on the couch, which smelled of the soap he used; a spicy, sweet scent that was imbedded in the light blanket thrown over the back of the couch, and in the plush pillows. Her dreams slipped into nightmares she couldn’t escape from, in which she was left alone because Eden had left her in the Bordelayz, to be used and abused for the rest of her life.

  When she finally broke free of the nightmares in the morning, she had so hoped to find Eden in the room so she could tell him how foolish she had been. She didn’t want to be with anyone but him, and she only hoped it wasn’t too late to fix the damage she had done.

  The rooms were empty and there was no evidence that he had even come back at all. On shaky legs, she walked into the bathroom and cleaned up in the enclosed shower, wondering what had happened to him and when he would be back.

  Opening the clothing cabinet, she looked over her things, but instead of picking any of them she turned and walked into the small closet where he kept his clothes. Choosing one of his tunics, she slipped it over her head and cuddled the soft fabric around herself. It hung to her knees and gaped at the chest, but she didn’t care. She would show him that she wanted to be with him, that she was ready to open herself to him. And it wasn’t just because she had no choice. His absence had made her wake up and open herself to the emotions that had been struggling to break free for days now. She loved him. She wanted him.

  He was sweet. He was funny. And he was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. What did it matter, anyway, whether they were from different worlds or not, if they loved each other?

  Hunger gnawed at her as she looked around the empty front room in confusion. He’d been gone for so long. Where was he? She had no idea how to find him or how to call him, or if they even used things like cell phones. He’d told her she wasn’t to leave the room without him or Sloan, and the front door to the room that led out into the hallway wasn’t coded for her, so it wouldn’t open.

  As her anger grew with each passing minute at being left alone, it twined with panic, deep inside her. She'd never panicked before, but this wasn't a normal situation. Had Eden abandoned her? Had he decided she'd kept him at arm’s length for so long she wasn't worth the trouble? What was going to happen to her?

  Her heart thudded erratically. Had he really stayed out all night because he needed some time away from her, because of her constant rejection? But what if something had actually happened to him? He said they wouldn’t be technically married until a ceremony had happened, and so far there hadn’t been any vows exchanged or any sort of official ceremony done. It had just been the two of them for the last week.

  The door opened, and Ashleigh’s heart leapt into her throat. Sloan walked in.

  "Good morning, Ashleigh. I came to have breakfast with you. I hope you're hungry."

  "Starving." She could have cried, she was so disappointed it wasn’t Eden.

  Sloan put a paper sack in her hands, and she opened it and found ronii. "Why did you bring me these?" she asked, looking up at her.

  Sloan busied herself at the cook top. "Eden asked me to bring them over and have breakfast with you."

  Ashleigh put the bag down on the table. Unease flitted through her. "He asked you to come and...take care of me?"

  "He did," she said, without turning to look at her. There was a stiffness to her that Ashleigh hadn't seen when they spent the day together, and she had the distinct feeling that something was wrong.

  "Do you know where Eden is?” she asked.

  Sloan looked at her over her shoulder and then turned her attention back to the cooker. “I do.”

  “Where?”

  She sighed loudly and turned off the cooker. She turned around slowly and leaned against the counter, her arms folded across her chest.

  Ashleigh’s heart pounded in her chest as she waited for Sloan's response.

  “He’s in Kasimir’s quarters, having sex with his wife Anca.”

  Ashleigh’s whole world shut down. She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt a tear slip down her cheek. She’d thought her heart had been broken when she found out that Tate had been sleeping with her cousin behind her back. She realized now that she hadn't known the definition of a broken heart until this moment.

  Rubbing angrily at her watery eyes, she said, “Good. Fine. Whatever.” Completely crushed, she turned to go back to the bedroom. Sloan’s hand caught her wrist.

  “Why haven’t you had sex with Eden?”

  She stiffened. “How would you know what we did or didn’t do?”

  “Because his hair is still blue, Ashleigh.”

  When she stared in confusion, Sloan pulled her into the bedroom, went into the closet, and pulled open one of the small built-in drawers on one wall. Ashleigh hadn’t looked in the drawers because she didn’t want to invade Eden's privacy. Sloan pulled out a thick leather-bound book and put it down on the bed.

  At her urging, Ashleigh opened the book and saw a pencil drawing of hers
elf. It was so perfectly drawn it was like a photograph. He'd caught the subtle wave in her thick hair, the tiny dimple in her cheek. The next page revealed a charcoal drawing of her standing at a porch railing, an arbor of flowers surrounding her. The gown she wore was beautiful, and reminded her of a wedding dress. She turned the next page and found a water-color painting of her nestled in Eden’s arms, but his hair was dark brown and he looked serene. As she continued to look, she found page after page of drawings, paintings and sketches of herself. Mostly alone, always wearing beautiful clothing, and sometimes drawn with him, embraced liked lovers. “Eden made these?” Her voice was a bare whisper. Emotions rioted around in her mind.

  “Of course he did, Ashleigh. He’s an artist. He’s absurdly talented. The moment he took the soul-walk to find his mate, he started to prepare for you. Besides drawing what look like near mirror-images of you,” she held one up next to her shocked face and compared it, “he also spent the last five years preparing for you. All of the things in here - the clothes, the linens, even the furniture - it was all done with you in mind.” She went to the closet and pulled several more volumes of art of her from within.

  “I don’t,” Ashleigh licked suddenly dry lips and sat down on the bed, “I don’t understand. If he really wanted me to be his wife, why has he been gone all night and why is he having sex with someone else’s wife?” She wanted to be mad at him, but she felt completely torn and broken at seeing the pictures.

  Sloan interrupted her thoughts by joining her on the bed. “Okay, so clearly Eden left out a large bit of his life before you came here. He’s a brokah... It’s a, uh, I think the term on your world is 'gigolo'?”

  She gaped at her in shock. “A gigolo is a male prostitute.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, that’s about right. You know how beautiful he is. Even as a child, everyone knew he was going to be gorgeous. We were born into one of the poorest cities. Our parents indebted themselves even further to send him to the best boarding school so he could learn how to fit in among the upper echelon of society. When he showed an interest in art as a child, he was punished and told that it was folly. Art wouldn’t help him gain employment that would help our parents to get out of the slums. When he turned sixteen years, the age of sexual maturity for our people, he was taken from our parents' home to the house of the governor of Kyvern City. His wife had seen him at the school and wanted him. Eden said that it was awful. The governor watched him the whole time and made crude comments, and then he... Oh, Ashleigh, the governor raped him while he was having sex with his wife.”

  Ashleigh’s heart stopped dead, and her eyes filled with tears. Immediately her mind flashed to the book she'd read for her book club about abused children. Eden was as much a victim as those children had been, sold for profit, tossed to the wolves for money. Eden had suffered so much; all he'd asked of her was time, and she hadn't given it to him.

  Sloan continued her story of Eden’s life: that their parents sold him as a brokah, and he was taken to the Bordelayz as a sex slave. For the last fifteen years, he had been forced to service anyone who called for him. After the governor raped him, he fought not to be taken like that again, and eventually the males that preferred that sort of thing gave up on him. But he was called constantly to the beds of married women while their husbands watched him. Their world was casual about many things, including the use of prostitutes by couples.

  It was his job. He was not allowed to deny anyone no matter how much he was filled with disgust at the act. He became addicted to drugs, trying to dull the pain and humiliation he suffered, and then he overdosed, trying to kill himself. After he tried to take his own life, Sloan paid for him to take the soul-walk and hoped that he would be able to find his mate. That was five years ago.

  "What is this soul-walk you keep talking about?"

  "Oh, sweet Ashleigh, he really didn't tell you anything, did he? I think he must have wanted you to love him, before he shared such painful things. The soul-walk is something that our men do to find their perfect mate. It's a drug-induced vision that leads them to where their bride is. Machines hooked up to the males pinpoint the location and name of the bride from information in the vision. She will be perfect for him, compatible in every way. The male chooses a necklace that contains an identification number and a tracker. The moment his bride puts on the necklace, the retrieval crew comes for her." Because Ashleigh had taken off the necklace that first night, the crew had not come for her because they couldn't guarantee that the necklace was with her. Secrecy was of the utmost importance to them, so they took the women at night, when they were alone in their homes, wearing the necklace.

  “Why did he wait so long to come for me?” She wiped at the tears on her cheeks.

  “He had to save up enough money to buy out his contract from the Bordelayz, for the trip and your abduction, and to wait also for a freighter to come to your planet. When the soul-walks are done, the males are grouped together by planet, and when enough of them have drawn mates from the same planet they will be able to begin their journey. The whole time he waited for others to find Earth mates, his whole outlook on life changed. He still hated his status as brokah - it is one of the lowest stations in our society - but he had you to look forward to.

  “I know you want to go home, Ashleigh, and I can understand that, but you are blind if you don’t know that my brother loves you. You told me that first day we spent together that you didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he’s had five years of remembering the vision he had of you and waiting to be able to find you. You were going to be his salvation.”

  “His salvation?”

  “He freed himself for you, Ashleigh. Once a brokah becomes mated, he will never be able to be a gigolo again; it's against our laws. He’ll be able to do what he wants with his life back home, and he’ll never be called into anyone else’s bed again.”

  Still reeling from everything she’d just learned, she managed to ask her the one thing that had stuck out. “What did you mean when you said you knew we hadn’t had sex because his hair was still blue?”

  “Unmated males have blue hair. When they mate with their bride for the first time, it changes their hair color to brown. It’s a chemical, connection kind of thing. When he went out last night to get the fruit for you, he clearly didn’t think that anyone would ask him to service their mate, but he was wrong. Kasimir is a general in the military. If Eden had said no to him, he would have been beaten for sure and forced anyway. It wouldn't matter to Kasimir that Eden paid for his freedom and was no longer a brokah. Kasimir’s mate is from a world where the women go into a sexual frenzy once a month and the general has never been able to keep up with her. So he clearly kept Eden there overnight, making him go again and again.”

  “Oh.” Her hand went to her mouth and she swallowed a scream born of guilt. “Can you, uh, take me to him?”

  “You can’t do anything for him until he’s released from Kasimir’s quarters. If you want to mate with him when he recovers, you can, but until then he’s a sex slave.”

  Shaking her head, Ashleigh stood up and went to the tall cupboard where he kept the clothes he’d picked for her, neatly folded and hung on metal hangers. She chose a crimson halter top in a fabric that felt like satin and a matching pair of slacks and ballet style slippers. “Help me get to him, Sloan, please,” she said as she turned around, dumped the clothes on the bed and pulled off his tunic.

  “I don’t know why you’d want to see that, but I’ll take you to Kasimir’s.”

  Ashleigh wasn’t sure she could explain it either. She just felt like he needed her, and if she sat in the room until he was released from his duty, then she would be failing him. It was her fault that he had been taken, and she had to try to fix it. She dressed quickly, and Sloan helped her apply some light makeup to hide the fact that she’d been crying and brushed her hair until it shone. Taking her hand, she stepped out of their room and turned to the left.

  She and Sloan entered a transport and Slo
an spoke their destination. As it swiftly moved them through the levels of the ship, Sloan said, “Kasimir is a big man with a bad attitude. His mate, Anca, is from the Ghrakin world. She has eyes like diamonds, and pointed ears. I think the only reason she wanted to come along on this journey is because she wanted to use Eden before he became mated."

  Ashleigh felt nauseous. As Sloan spoke about Kasimir and Anca, she realized how foolish she’d been. If she’d had an open mind with Eden from the beginning, she would have seen him for what he was. And she really did like being with him. And she was powerfully attracted to him. And more than that, she knew that she loved him. She'd tried to keep herself detached, but he was impossible not to love.

  The door to Kasimir's quarters opened after Sloan pressed a pad and requested entrance. Kasimir was huge. Tall and broad, he had a scar down one side of his face that looked like it still hurt even though it was clearly healed and old. Sneering at them from under a dark brow, his thin lips curled up slightly.

  “Lovely Sloan, who is this beauty?”

  “This is Eden’s bride, Kasimir. She wants to see him.”

  “He’s not done with my wife.”

  “Please.” Ashleigh looked up at him. “Let me see Eden.”

  “If you’re really his bride, if you care so much, why have you been on board for eight dins and he’s still got blue hair? That makes him a brokah; I don’t care what the Bordelayz says.”

  Ashleigh didn’t know how to answer that. “I, uh, needed time, and you took him from me. Let me see him, please.”

  Kasimir seemed to be considering things and then finally he said, “What’s one more person enjoying the show anyway?”

  Much to her dismay, the scene that waited for her in the large bedroom was much worse than her mind could have invented. Eden, hair matted to his head with sweat and with fresh whip marks across his back, was thrusting into the body of a woman lying on her back while she played with her small breasts and licked her lips. Couples and groups of men sat around the room on lounges, some watching intently while others laughed lightly and whispered.