by Nina Croft
She wouldn’t have believed a word of it, but Hezrai had always liked any evidence that she was stupid, so maybe he wouldn’t question her story too closely.
He bowed before her. “Your Ladyship.”
Beside her, Jon sniggered. Alex ignored him and bowed regally in return.
“Hezrai, this is Jon…” She realized she didn’t actually know his second name, and she glanced at him.
“Decker,” he provided.
“This is Jon Decker—he offered to bring me to you. In return for the reward, of course.”
Hezrai’s pale gray eyes flicked to Jon and back to her. “You don’t feel you should return our priestess for the glory of God.”
“Do I look like a complete idiot?” Jon growled.
A spasm of anger flashed across the priest’s face, and his eyes narrowed. “I sense a difference about you. Are you entirely human, Mr. Decker?”
Jon took a step forward so he stood beside her. “Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?”
Behind Hezrai, the three men moved as one, their hands shifting to rest on their laser pistols, and the tension rocketed. Alex peeked sideways at Jon, expecting his own hand to be on his gun, but they hung relaxed at his side. A small smile played across his lips as though daring Hezrai to move against him.
Rico had told her Jon had a death wish, but she still didn’t believe that was true. Rather, she suspected it was more that he was an arrogant ass.
Hezrai waved the men down. “Not everyone can believe in the Lord,” he said. “I will pray for your salvation, Mr. Decker.”
“Thanks.”
“In the meantime, if you would give me an account number, I will see that the payment is made.” He pressed a button on his wristband and a small screen appeared on his right palm. “The number, please.”
Jon hesitated and looked at her, as though expecting her to say something, but there was nothing left to say, so she kept her mouth tight shut. After a second, he shrugged and reeled off a list of numbers.
Hezrai turned his palm toward them. Jon glanced at it and nodded.
“Good,” Hezrai said. “Then we’ll be saying good-bye. I’m sure you have important things to do, and we must get our little priestess back where we can take care of her properly.”
Alex ground her teeth together at the syrupy words. She didn’t want to be taken care of. Why did no one think she was capable of taking care of herself? But there would be time to exert her new independence once Jon was safely away from here, so she swallowed down the words.
Besides, she was fighting an almost overwhelming urge to grab hold of his hand and drag him with her far away from here. It was dawning on Alex that this was the last time she would see him, and she hadn’t realized it would be so hard. The thought made her chest tighten and her stomach churn. Everything seemed to narrow.
Jon didn’t speak although she could feel his eyes on her. Then he moved. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn around and walk away.
Keeping her eyes on the pale sand at her feet, she held herself very still as though if she moved at all she might unravel and never manage to get herself back together. But at the last moment, she had to see him one more time.
She whirled around and ran after him, clumsy in the stupid dress. “Jon!”
He stopped walking. “What?”
“Just this.” Her hands grasped his shoulders, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me—I did it for the money.”
“I meant for the orgasm, of course.”
“Well, if you were really grateful, we could nip behind that rock over there, and you could repay the favor. I’m sure your friend would wait for us.”
“I’ll pass. Besides, I don’t think he likes you. Go,” she said. “Be safe.”
She turned around and trudged back to where they waited for her. Hezrai was speaking into his comm unit when she got back. This time when he looked at her, he made no attempt to hide the loathing in his eyes, and unease shifted inside her. He’d always at least made some small effort to mask his hatred.
“Stupid fucking little bitch,” he snarled and lashed out with his right fist.
The blow caught her by surprise, taking her across the cheekbone. Pain flared, and the force flung her to the ground in a tangle of long skirts.
She pushed herself up on her hands and spat out the sand that had filled her mouth. Fire burned along her cheek, and she stayed where she was for a moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
And failed totally. Hezrai had never laid hands on her before. Maybe it was a mistake.
Swallowing, she forced herself up just as a booted foot kicked her hard in the side. She went down a second time, instinctively curling into a ball to protect herself as he kicked her again. A sickening pain shot through her, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming.
“Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me, bitch?”
She lay, listening to his heavy breathing, and praying it was over. Then the rush of air before his boot caught her in the ribs, and for a moment, she blacked out.
Unfortunately, it was only a moment.
When she opened her eyes, his boots were directly ahead of her, and she tensed, waiting for the next kick. When it didn’t come, she rolled cautiously onto her hands and knees. The movement sent searing pain shooting through her body. A wave of heat washed over her, followed by chilling cold. Her stomach turned liquid, and she vomited over the polished black boots.
Hezrai swore loudly but stepped back from her.
“Get up.”
Unsure if she could, she wrapped one arm around her ribs and used the other to push herself up. She’d managed to get halfway when he grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her to her feet before dropping her arm as if he couldn’t bear to touch her.
“Why?” she asked.
“You always were a snooping little bitch. Shoving your nose in where it wasn’t wanted.” He studied her for a moment, eyes narrowed. “Or were you spying on me that day? Did someone put you up to it?” He reached for her, gripped her shoulders, and shook her, so she had to grit her teeth against the pain that shot from her ribs to every nerve in her body. “Tell me.”
What was he talking about? “Put me up to what?”
“You eavesdropped on my meeting with—” He glanced behind him at the men who stood watching silently and broke off. Alex followed his gaze and nearly threw up again. They were big men, and their faces held identical expressions—cold and ugly, but eager as they stared back at her. She forced her gaze back to Hezrai and choked out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No, maybe you don’t. You always were slow. But I can’t take the risk.”
Unable to help herself, she stared at the point where Jon had disappeared only minutes ago, willing him to return. He must be back at the shuttle by now—he’d probably already forgotten her.
Hezrai brushed his robes and peered down his nose at her. “I’d like to say I’m sorry for what’s about to happen, but the truth is—I wish I could stay and watch. Unfortunately, I need to be able to stand before the council and say I don’t know how your death happened.”
Her mind refused to work fast enough to catch up with what he was saying. She licked her lips. “Death?”
“You ruined everything. It was all arranged.” His voice rose with each word he spoke. Then he snapped his mouth closed, and the tension drained from his narrow shoulders. “I was going to live forever.” He turned to the men behind him. “I don’t care what you do to her, but I want her dead at the end of it. Afterward, send the body to the Church and disappear.”
He stalked away, black robes swirling around him. Alex stared after his retreating back, wanting to scream at him not to go. To tell her this was a bad joke, but she knew it would do no good. She had no clue what he was talking about, but that didn’t make her situation any less real.
Nobody moved as Hezrai disappear
ed inside his shuttle, but she could feel their eyes on her, and she shivered, tightening her arms around her middle.
Okay, she was scared. She admitted it. But her mind was sluggish, and she couldn’t make sense of what had happened. Refused to consider what was about to happen.
The engines flared, and the shuttle lifted off and still nobody moved. Finally, Alex straightened her shoulders and turned slowly to face the three men. Her breath was coming short and fast, and she slowed it trying to clear her mind.
After one lesson in fighting, she doubted she was in any position to take down three men, each one at least twice her weight and all heavily armed.
She would have to talk her way out of this one. “The Church will pay to get me back unharmed.”
“We’ve already been paid,” the tallest one said.
“They’ll pay you more.”
A cold smile twisted his lips. “That would hardly be honorable, would it?”
“Honorable? You call this honor?”
“In our way—yes. We’re paid to do a job, and we do it. It’s nothing personal.”
“I have friends—they’ll come after you.”
“Your friend just sold you for a whole load of credits. Besides, the priest ordered his shuttle to be destroyed.”
Her mind reeled in shock; she wanted to run, scream, somehow warn him, but how could she? Maybe they were lying. “I don’t believe you.” She didn’t want to believe them, but it would be like Hezrai. The double-crossing slimeball.
“They’re giving him time to get safely back, then—bang. So give us what we want. We’ll have a bit of fun, and then we’ll kill you quick.”
They circled her. She stood still, her gaze darting between them. The man who had spoken was obviously the leader. He was the one she had to convince. But staring into his cold, set face, she had a sinking feeling there was no way that was about to happen.
“Look, sweetheart,” he said, and she shuddered at the endearment, “you’re as good as dead. This is going to happen, so why not make it easy on yourself?”
“Because I don’t want to die.”
He took a step toward her. Keeping her gaze fixed on him, she backed up, then jumped as hard hands settled on her shoulders. She held herself still, unsure what to do. One thing she did know was there was no way she was giving them what they wanted. They’d have to take it. She tensed herself to fight when off in the distance, she heard the roar of a blaster. Her gaze shot upward as a white light streaked down from somewhere in orbit, followed by an explosion on the surface that sent orange flames shooting into the twilight sky.
The shuttle.
Jon would have been back by now, probably readying for takeoff. Her mind refused to register more than that. Jon couldn’t be dead. Not at the hands of someone like Hezrai. Inside her mind screamed in denial, and she tried to rip free from the hands that held her as though she could somehow go and save him. Drag him out from the wreckage, touch him one last time.
But the fingers tightened on her shoulders, digging into her flesh. She fought harder, but the struggle was futile, and finally she stood still, breathing hard now.
Why hadn’t she worn her laser pistol? Because she had thought she was safe. It had never occurred to her that Hezrai would harm her. She was a fool, and some of her pain and fear was swamped beneath a wave of rage that rose up inside her.
The man in front of her had been watching the explosion. Now he turned back to her, a slight smile curling his thin lips. “There, it’s just you and us now. I’ve never had me a priestess before.” He reached out, tugged the headdress from her hair, and tossed it to the ground. “Red,” he murmured as he caught sight of her hair.
She’d told him the truth—she wanted to live. At least long enough to rip Hezrai into bloody little pieces for what he had done to Jon. But the man standing in front of her wasn’t offering her life in exchange for her cooperation, just a quicker death.
Barring divine intervention, she couldn’t see any way out of this. And with that realization, some of her panic left her and her brain could function again.
She wouldn’t beg. Well, maybe she would, but only to give herself a chance to take at least one of them down with her.
Forcing her grief over Jon to the back of her mind, she stared at the ground until she was sure she had control of her expression. She wiped the anger from her face, allowing fear and pain to fill her eyes as she raised her gaze. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
His smile broadened. “That’s more like it.”
Alex examined him—he had a weapons belt at his waist with a laser pistol and a large knife. She needed one of those weapons, preferably the pistol, but she’d take the knife.
He raised his hands to the neck of her dress and yanked, trying to rip it down the front, but the material refused to tear. “What the hell is this stuff?” he muttered.
Alex could have told him it was wool from the Abbey’s sheep, woven with silk, spun by the Abbey’s own silk worms, bred from worms brought from Earth more than a thousand years ago. But she didn’t think he’d be interested in the history lesson.
She didn’t want to do this, but it was the only way to get them to lower their guard. “The back,” she said meekly. “It buttons down the back.”
Suspicion flashed across his features. Maybe she was being too cooperative, but he nodded over her shoulder and the other man released his grip on her arms and stepped away.
Hands slipped inside the neck of her dress and ripped the cloth so the cool air brushed against her bare skin. For a second, she hugged the dress to her, then she unwound her arms from her middle, tugged the sleeves down, and let the bodice fall to her waist, baring her breasts.
The leader licked his lips then reached out a hand and cupped her breast.
A shudder of revulsion ran through her, but Alex forced herself to take a step closer; so close she could smell the rank scent of his sweat. “Please, you promised not to hurt me, and I’ve never done this before.”
Her hand crept to his side, and she clenched her teeth as she realized there was no way she could reach his laser pistol; besides it was on the side where the other two men stood drooling like hungry animals. But her fingers managed to grasp the hilt of the knife. His hand tightened on her breast, and her anger flared; she didn’t want him touching her there, where Jon had touched her such a short time ago.
All her life she’d believed killing was wrong, now she felt no compunction as she slid the knife from its sheath. She hesitated; she couldn’t reach his heart, and if she stabbed him in the side, it was unlikely to do any lasting damage.
In the end, she lifted the knife and gauged him in the side of the neck, twisting the blade as it entered.
He reared back, his hand falling from her to clutch at the knife embedded in his throat. Alex twisted away from him and ran.
Almost immediately, something slammed into her lower legs, hurling her to the ground. She rolled over but was shoved back down by a booted foot.
The furious face of the man she had stabbed stared down at her. One hand held a cloth to his neck, and she recognized the black material of her headdress.
“So I take it you don’t want it easy after all.”
The boot pressed down hard on her ribs, and this time she screamed.
…
Jon had every intention of flying away and not looking back.
Alex would be okay. She was with her own people and didn’t need his protection any more. Which was just as well because he was crap at protecting people.
Jon repeated variations of the same thought over and over in his mind on the way back to the shuttle.
But he wasn’t convincing himself.
He’d seen the hatred in the priest’s face when he’d first caught sight of Alex. The hatred had bordered on insanity. The man had hidden it quickly enough, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still there.
And what was with the mercenaries? The Church had its own army. There was no reason for them to
hire mercs.
Unless it was for a job not sanctioned by the Church.
Then again, maybe their own army was spread thin searching for their lost priestess. Maybe they’d had to take on extra people.
He’d actually arrived back at the shuttle when the roar of a ship taking off broke the silence behind him. She was gone, and something inside him screamed in denial.
Then he realized only one ship had left—the priest’s. Which meant the Mark One cruiser was still here. The ship belonging to the mercs.
Why?
What reason could there be to hang around?
Plenty of reasons. Maybe the ship had a problem or...
He sat down in the pilot’s chair, leaned forward to switch on the engine, but stopped.
He’d known that he had to go back and check, even though he was almost sure he would find her gone along with the priest. And that would be that. Still, once outside the shuttle, he found himself running in the direction he had come from. All he could think was he had to save her. Protect her.
A streak of light blazed down from above, and behind him came the boom of an explosion. For a second he hesitated, glancing back to see flames roaring into the sky. The shuttle. Then he was running again.
He was almost there when the shrill scream of agony filled the air. Stripping his clothes as he raced across the sand, he didn’t think, didn’t consider his actions; he was beyond that. He shifted as he ran, until he had to pause to kick off his boots, shrug out of his pants.
Despite his fear, a wave of euphoria washed through him as his wolf scented freedom. It had been so long. His back arched as the bones snapped and realigned. There was no pain, just a feeling of rightness as finally he stood on all fours, head up sniffing the cool night air.
His senses sharpened, and his nostrils filled with the scent of blood and fear. Throwing back his head, he howled.
…
In some part of her mind, Alex was aware she had given up, had accepted the fact of her death. But she would go down fighting.
She managed to get in a well-aimed kick, and the man swore, drew back his fist, and punched her on the side of the head. Stars flashed in front of her eyes, and she rolled onto all fours and shook her head. When she looked up, they stood in a ring around her.
