Laren hung her head. “Yes.”
“He came with search orders and armed Security. You never saw the fiasco because you were holed up with him in your room. Once you were out of the main room, his Security literally tore my place apart and prevented me from pulling you out of there to answer their accusations. I lost a whole night’s income because of you.”
“Why? I mean, this is your establishment. Why wouldn’t they allow you to summon me to explain?”
“Because, you idiot, you were with him, and they were under orders not to disturb him while he interviewed you personally. What did you tell him, anyway, that you were some kind of a prisoner here?
"No, Majesty. I’m sorry, Majesty. I thought he was the person who asked me to be there." But Karra knew it was Jem who had arranged this incident. One anonymous panicked call would have sent Del to Laren’s rescue.
Talk fast, the beast said.
“You arrogant twit! You were there because I wanted you to work the freetin’ party. The whole freetin’ party. I wanted to see what my money had purchased. So you pick one person, and only one, and decide to ignore my instructions? My instructions. Who paid for you? Does the Commissioner own you?”
“No,” Karra said, raising her head to glare at him, surprised, but pleased that she was allowed to speak—finally.
“’No’ is right, you slut! You now owe me twenty-seven thousand, my investment in the ruined evening plus your remaining advance, and you will repay me by working the floor. I’ll get someone else to work in my office, someone who knows better than to cross me.”
But Karra could no longer hide her anger. “I’m outa here,” she said, heading for the door. “I told you I wasn’t a paygirl, and I meant it.”
"I'll teach you to work when I say work, you ingrate!" He nodded toward his guards. "Hold her."
Karra sprung for the exit, but one guard latched onto her wrist. She twisted away and stomped on his instep using as much force as she could in bare feet. They had taken her heels before allowing her into the King’s office. But before she could reach the door, the second guard grabbed her hair and pulled her back to face the King.
The King slapped her. Hard.
Fire burned the left side of her face. She tasted blood.
He grinned with pleasure as blood trickled from a split lip.
She leaned against the guard and shot her foot at the King's stomach, and met a soft cushion of fat. But he bent double, even so.
"You'll pay for that," he told her as he straightened, curling his hands into fists.
She threw her weight against the guard holding her, wishing she weren’t still half drunk from the doubles she had consumed.
The guard lost balance and released her hair.
The second guard rushed in to grab her. She doubled her fist and punched his nose.
He cursed as blood gushed from his nose. But he then grabbed her fist before she was able to throw another punch. She jabbed him in the eyes with the extended fingers of her other hand. He yowled in pain, releasing his grip.
The first guard latched onto her wrist, twisting her arm painfully behind her back. By that time the second guard had recovered and he grabbed her other arm. They held her while the King pounded her with his meaty fists.
Karra flailed with her only weapons, her feet. She caught his jaw once, his stomach twice, and knocked his fists away several times, but when she missed, his fist struck with force. At the same time, she tried to topple her upper weight against the men holding her.
Just a moment of freedom and you’re dead, fat boy, she cursed at him silently. But she was weakening. Her kicks became fewer.
This is no way to get away from him, she realized. Let him think he has won and maybe he’ll let go. She sagged against his guards, letting him pummel her.
"Let go of her," the King finally told his guards. "Let's see what she can do."
Karra dropped to the floor. She lay in a heap, knowing that she could do little.
You can do nothing, the beast told her. Who do you think empowered you to perform each assassination? Do you think you performed on your own strength? Who fed you the red rage? Who fills you with murderous hatred? I am your strength. This is the lesson you will learn tonight.
She began to put the pieces together. Last fall she had decided to get out of the business. Almost as soon as she made the decision, Jem had hired her to eliminate Barnis Ves. The red rage never appeared. She found she needed to kill Barnis on her own, and she realized she hated having to do the deed. Something inside her had changed.
It was afterwards that the beast revealed itself to her. The beast wanted her back. He wanted her to experience the rage, then reward her with ice, numbing all emotions. But it also numbed her love for her daughter. And now she knew why she wanted to change. She wanted to love her daughter more than she wanted to hate her enemies.
But she also realized something else: the King was not above killing someone for pleasure. To survive, she either needed to let them think they had won and remain crumpled on the floor, or hope that her training would be enough.
They let her rise to her feet. The King was the least of her problems, so she spun away from him. Her first blow struck one guard, her outstretched fingers dealing a blow to the center of his throat, crushing his larynx. He grabbed his throat as his airway swelled shut.
Alarmed, the second guard avoided her heel, which would have snapped his knee. He took the main thrust on the side of his leg, twisting, painfully spraining the knee instead. He collapsed to the floor, his knee unable to support his weight.
Next she arched toward the King, but he was more prepared than she thought. He blocked her hand just before it reached the bridge of his nose. “You’re a little more militant than I like,” he said as he jabbed a meaty fist to her chin, dazing her. “Where did you train, lovey? Not in a bordello.”
She barely blocked his next blows, and once again aimed her bare foot for his midsection. But from the floor the guard caught her behind the knees with a well-placed kick with his good leg. She crumpled. She lashed out with her feet, but only met his boot. Just as she was about to rise, the King kicked her savagely in her ribs. The guard’s boot followed. Then she felt a flurry of kicks, and although she curled into a ball, they did not stop for a long time.
“That’s enough,” she barely heard the King say.
She was vaguely aware that he had moved away from her. She tried to crawl across the floor toward the door, but two other guards entered before she reached it.
“Take her to her apartment. I'll finish her myself later. I need to put out an advertisement for another assistant. She won’t be back here."
One of the King’s guards carried her to her apartment without effort. Twice she drifted out of consciousness before he reached it. When he finally arrived, he let himself in with her key, her purse dangling from his arm. He dumped her unceremoniously on her bed and left. It hurt to breathe.
Karra knew when the King returned he intended to kill her. To protect herself, she needed to get the gun she had stashed under her mattress. She rolled toward the edge of the bed, and gasped as her bruised muscles knotted in protest. The sharp pain in her side made her wonder if she hadn’t also broken a rib. As she took shallow sips of air, a wave of unconsciousness threatened to leave her helpless. She took several more tiny breaths before able to continue. Finally she reached the edge and, lying on her back, tried to probe under the mattress.
At first, she could not find her gun. A momentary panic shot adrenalin to her brain. The gun! Where is my gun? I put it… Finally she hooked one finger around the trigger guard and eased it from underneath the mattress.
Good. Finally. Now keep breathing as you hide the gun under the covers. Yes. Her hand became tangled in the sheets just as she blacked out.
Voices outside her bedroom door, shouting at each other, saying things about authority, filling a background space in her consciousness, distorting the natural flow of her breathing… She was s
upposed to remember something. When the King comes in I intend to… The gun! Where is…
The door to her bedroom opened, bringing the argument inside, growing louder as it approached her bed. She tried to feign unconsciousness, but she failed. Although no more than narrow slits through puffy lids, her eyes opened to two figures shouting at each other near the foot of her bed. One of the figures bent over her. Del. She found the gun and tried to keep it buried in the covers as she pulled it toward her. All he needed to do was leave her alone with the King for one second.
"Laren?" He turned away. "You piebald dog! What have you done to her?"
"Nothing." The King's voice. "Ask her."
"Laren, can you talk? What has he done to you?"
Laren let the flow of his voice wash pleasantly over her. But with the King standing not far away, Karra knew she had to find a correct response. "I fell." It came out, “Ah feh,” but she didn’t care to fix the mushed words.
"I told you!" the King said. "Now get out!"
But Del ignored him. "Laren, tell the truth. I can put him away if you do."
Her face felt thick and ugly. Her lips nearly refused to move. "I feh dahn sahm stess." I fell down some steps, she corrected her bruised lips.
"I want this woman out of here."
Del had moved out of her range of sight. Her fat lids shut themselves. Now he would leave and she could…
"Go freeze in space where you belong, Nevian," the King shouted. "You heard my girl say she fell. Now get out of here!"
"Suppose I closed you down?"
"By what law, what authority?" the King roared back.
"Abuse, suspicion of slavery, unlawful imprisonment, possibly gambling, an investigation into the use of drusa." Del's voice carried the threat without getting louder. “It might take a long time in the courts before everything is investigated.”
"She's mine! I paid a lot of money for her. Fifteen hundred!"
“Slavery, Master Wester?”
“No. Of course not. An advance on her wages paid to her Spons, who happened to be her own brother. Who do you think trained her? Great family values, wouldn’t you say? What kind of a girl do you think she is?”
"Then I shall reimburse you."
"She erren't available. You want your own private girl? That it, Commissioner? Then let me find you another one."
"You will lose more than a mere fifteen hundred wens if you choose to ignore me," A’nden warned, not as quietly now.
Karra opened her eyes again in time to see Del signal to someone outside her room. A large, flat-faced man entered almost immediately. One of his bodyguards, she recognized. When the man glanced at her, a touch of disgust crossed his face. She turned away.
"Look, Commissioner." The King's voice had taken on an uncharacteristic note of pleading. "She's just a paygirl. I can get you another one in a short second. Don't you see? You've fallen for the fantasy. Maybe she said she loved you or something. Freeze it all! It's her job to make you believe her. Tell him, girl."
"He righ, Del." But the words came through a bruised and swollen mouth. Karra could not give them the emphasis she needed to make them believable. Just leave, she wanted to tell him. Give me a moment alone with him. That’s all I need.
"Right!" Del's face darkened.
Karra ignored him. In her opinion, Del was overreacting. The King had known what he was doing, not hurting her enough to kill her. No, he planned to do it himself. Later. In fact, he may have intended to come here to do exactly that, but met A’nden first. She found it ridiculous that A’nden wanted to fight the King for her, especially since “King” Mason Wester’s life on this planet had just about expired.
She remembered the first time someone had beaten her this badly. Karra had been fourteen and she recalled the incident vividly. The current bruises on body helped her feel it all over again. Someone had followed her from Peet's Place, beat her savagely… violated her. Filled with the same hatred and helpless anger as now, she had resolved to kill him. Jem had taught her many things by that time, but she had never actually killed anyone. When he found her he swore to help her get revenge.
But Jem did not know it was the beast who strengthened her to perform the other assassinations. In fact, until she put everything together as the King and his guards were pummeling her, she had not realized it either. The beast filled her with red-hot rage until the right instant, then rewarded her with a soothing, icy calm. She no longer needed Jem's help. All she needed was the beast. But this time the beast refused to prevent the beating. Why?
Do you think you can pick and choose when you want me? Didn’t I promise you to teach you compliance if you refused to learn from Laren? Now, Laren knows her requirements. Already I have given her more authority than you. Continue to fight me, and I will see that everything that used to be Karra is completely erased, and all of Laren’s false memories will become reality. The beast roared with laughter.
But she did not cringe. No one owns me, she told it.
"Explain a few things to him, girl," the King ordered, breaking her train of thought.
She tried again, this time attempting to make each word clear. "I geh pay for been good ah whah I do. So why don you pack uh yo pride and go home where oo beyong?" A glance at the King indicated the words were exactly right. She wondered if the King also knew how much better she got paid for other skills besides barebacking.
"See?" the King crowed, jubilant. "Now let me make my profit, and let the girl do what she was born for."
"Quit it, Laren," Del said softly. "You do not need to lie for him anymore."
The King and Del said much more, but Karra stopped listening. "Born for" kept repeating in her head. What if Chalatta believed the lie that sex was all an Area female was born for? I quit, Jem. I’m going to get my baby out of the Area.
Someone touched her face. She winced and opened her eyes.
"Can you get up?" Del asked her.
"I dunno." Why was it so freetin’ important to get up? She could kill the King just as easily, from right here, if only Del and his bodyguard would leave.
"Then stay there. After the doctor examines you, I will get the hospital Security to help."
Doctor? Security? Her heart jumped. "Ahm a’righ." She tried to sit up while also keeping the gun buried in the bedding.
"You are far from all right," another voice said. "Lie down."
She stared at the owner of the new voice. "Who are you?" This was becoming a freetin’ crosspath!
"Doctor L'in Weh Ahani," he told her with a respectful bow.
"Geh out!" she told him with more clarity than she had managed so far. "All a’you, juss get th’freet outa my ‘partmen!"
"Mistress Laren, please cooperate. I'm trying to help you."
"Go mess yourself," she whispered. She let him paw at her, but refused to answer his questions. She gritted her teeth when his probing reached the many tender places. Despite them all, she would feel better in a few days, especially after she killed the King, and Jem for setting the whole thing up. Afterwards, she would listen to B'sheer's offer and get out of this whole…
"She will need to go to the hospital for observation," the doctor told Del.
"No hos’ital!" Karra tried to shout.
Del paid no attention to her. "I will make all the arrangements."
"I will noh go oo a hos’tal!" she repeated vehemently.
Both men turned surprised faces toward her.
"Do not be foolish,” A’nden told her. “You need professional attention." He turned his back and nodded at the doctor. "As soon as they get prepared, the Security can transport her."
Security! She rolled away from them to get out of bed, trying to roll off the bed, and cried out as the sharp pain in her side stabbed her. She wanted to shout at them to leave her alone, but her breath came in tiny gasps.
"Stop that!" the doctor commanded. As the doctor reached for her, she swung with her arm and hit his face, too feeble an attempt to harm him. But he backed away
, startled.
"Motz!" Del called as he grasped her firmly. "Laren, be reasonable. You must go to the hospital. Stop thrashing your arms like that!”
Motz held her arms at her side, assisting his employer without comment. One hand pressed on the covers beside her, and found the gun. He looked at her in question.
In fact, he was the only one looking at her. The doctor was adjusting a syringe, and A’nden was still arguing with the King. Motz, looking straight at her, shook his head slightly before he slipped the gun from the bedding and shoved it in an inside pocket of his longvest.
She wanted to curse him. She found she could not move under his weight. It was useless.
Motz gave her a small half smile, no more than a quirk of his lips. While he held her in his iron grip, the doctor plunged a needle into her arm.
"She'll be easier to transport in a few minutes," he told the Security.
"Del!" Karra screamed. "Peese don leh them! Peese!" They had already found her gun. Next would come the palmprinter, or someone finding the gloves in her purse. "No," she groaned. Already she could feel the drug coursing through her veins. "Del," she whispered as her eyes closed and her body relaxed. "Peese…" Her eyes closed.
"It's for your own good, Laren." His voice sounded far away. "Can she hear me?"
"Yes. The medication won't make her lose consciousness, just make her manageable. In fact, considering her evident fear, it would be a good idea if you remained with her."
"I will. Why is she so afraid?"
"Most of those from the Outer Area are. When they finally take one of their own to a hospital, it's often too late, so hospitals become a place of death, not healing. I would say her reaction is understandable."
Let them think that is the reason for my fear, she prayed as the Security moved her onto the cot.
She winced as straps tightened across her chest. Someone also bound her legs. Karra fought the panic of being tied down, of being helpless yet again. Let me up! Let me go! I’m not…
"I lie to you," Laren said, interrupting Karra’s panic. Her voice was so faint, Del had to bend close to hear her. "You noh like alla rest. Ahm sorry."
Her Darkest Beauty_An Alien Invasion Series_The Second Generation Page 18
