Guardian Enjel
Page 1
Published by Mojocastle Press, LLC
Price, Utah
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Guardian Enjel: Part One
A Terran Times Novel
ISBN: 1-60180-015-0
Copyright ã 2007 Viola Grace
Cover Art Copyright @ 2007 Vanessa Hawthorne
All rights reserved.
Excluding legitimate review sites and review publications, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Copying, scanning, uploading, selling and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission from the publisher is illegal, punishable by law and will be prosecuted.
Available online at:
http://www.mojocastle.com/
Also By Viola Grace:
Nakedella: Book One
Nakedella: Book Two
Nakedella: Book Three
Nakedella: Book Four
Nakedella: Book Five
Dedication:
To Mojocastle, and everyone who makes it happen!
Prologue
The battlefield was littered with bodies. Miranda Kenzic was just another one of them. She could feel the dying and injured calling out for help and here she was, pinned to the ground by a lance in her thigh. Her own pain was a dull ache in her consciousness, and the only thing keeping her sane as her mind cried out to heal those who had been injured.
Others had been hit by blasts from pulse blasters and various other remote attacking weapons, but the man who had pinned her to the ground had preferred to kill her the old-fashioned way. Her Alliance Medic uniform had been too tempting to resist.
She heard the pulse of shuttle engines, feeling them long before she could see them. They were not Alliance Medical ships. It was a cluster of Raider vessels looking for slaves, and here she was, pinned to the ground like a bug.
Today was definitely a twelve on her ‘this sucks’ meter.
* * * * * *
The leash around her neck tugged her forward. She fell to her knees as the force rod hit her in the spine for the fifth time that day. Her legs tingled and burned in reaction. This was getting tiring.
“Speak, slave.” Another prod.
“Buy me, master.” Miranda put every ounce of fury she felt into her gem-green gaze. It was enough to drive off most buyers, but not this one. Which meant that either she was not what he was looking for, or he didn’t care about the attitude of the slave he bought.
“She is strong? She can lift? I will take.”
The display merchant was stunned, and quickly named a price that was considerably lower than what he had originally been asking for her. He was more astonished when the price of three hundred credits was exchanged in front of her with no haggling.
With that exchange of monies, Miranda Kenzic was sold to a blob of green gelatin named Kimn. He was handed her leash and receipt, and slowly made his way through the slave market with his prize. She barely needed to keep pace with him, as he was so slow as to be rolling through the halls of the station. He took her to a small shuttle where he explained her duties to her after they had taken off.
He had no use for a bipedal humanoid except one, he told her as she strapped herself into the seat for takeoff. He entertained business clients, and they needed food service and other housekeeping duties. Those tasks were best done by other bipedal species.
“Master, what is your business?” She felt compelled to ask. Her restraining chip was still active and would be for the next six months, so she would not be going anywhere. She would be polite, even if it killed her. Literally.
“I train and raise animals for use on primitive worlds. They seem to respond to me, and I enjoy the work.” The gelatin wiggled slightly, and she was forced to interpret it at a smile.
When they landed, it was exactly as Kimn had said. He did raise a type of riding animal and train them. He also had several bipedal stable lads who cared for the Tovah. They were housed separately from the household staff.
She smiled as she was given her uniform. It concealed just about every part of her, yet gave her enough flex to move and work comfortably. In a few days, she had worked out a routine with the rest of the staff, and was allowed out of the house for errands.
She would stop to watch the Tovah: huge, dense beasts designed for life in the wilds of a heavy gravity world. They had a special enclosure that Miranda did not enter, as she felt she was not at her most attractive plastered to a floor.
Miranda found comfort in her daily routine, preparing food under the cook’s watchful eyes.
All six of them.
Each day melted into the next as she got used to her routine of maintenance and housekeeping. She would rise in her private quarters in the servants’ area of the house, shower, get dressed and begin to prepare breakfast for the rest of the slaves.
She groaned at the weight as she brought the food over to one of the bunkhouses near the animal pens. Two other of the household staff came with her and they laid out the food and drink for the stable workers, then left for the rest of the morning.
She brushed at the food stains that dotted her uniform. All staff wore a green tunic and brown sarong from waist to ankle to hide the fact that they were all bipeds. Kimn insisted that there was no need to flaunt it in the local markets.
Master Kimn had informed her that there were new clients coming this evening. That meant that she needed to spend the rest of the afternoon getting ready. If that wasn’t the case, she would be on laundry detail.
Any time that he entertained, she or one of the other females was trotted out to distract the customers from the bargaining table. Based on how wealthy Kimn was, the ploy seemed to work.
Chapter One
Miranda still had two months left in her obedience chip when Kimn called her into a private meeting. He drew himself up behind his desk and tried to take on an accommodating pose. She was immediately suspicious.
“Miranda, I am sure that you remember that I have never required my staff to do more than their assigned tasks, but I have a special request.” He quivered uncomfortably. “You may be aware that I have acquired a new servant.”
“Yes, of course. The Enjel. Myrik.” She was all ears now. The Enjel was rather attractive. Like a feathered puppy, though his body was fully grown. There was something about him that let her know that he was interested in her, and confused about it. “How old is he, anyway?”
“He is nearing fifty, a difficult age for the Enjel, and his body temperature falls at night. It seems that he is going through an awkward time. The medical teams can do nothing...only body heat will solve his problem.” Her master paused, then shivered again. “Would you be willing to help him?”
“Are you really asking me to share my bed with him?” Her eyebrow raised in astonishment. Her lips twitched in amusement. This was an odd situation anywhere in the universe.
“Only for the purposes of body heat. You are the only other warm-blooded species here.”
She sat and pondered it for a moment. Myrik was a young male, and with those wings of his growing by leaps and bounds every day, it was entirely likely that this was causing his drop in temperature. Based on what she remembered of his species from Alliance monographs, he would be in his early fifties by human standards, but early maturity by those of the Enjel.
“All right, Master Kimn. But I need a larger bed...my cot will never fit the two of us.”
A shiver ran through his body again. “I have already ordered it to be moved to your room.” He sounded ha
ppy, and relieved.
“So you knew that I would give in?” She shook her head in disapproval at her transparency.
“I have learned much about you. You are exceptionally empathetic. You would not let him suffer.” Kimn turned and slithered out the door, with one parting comment. “You will be allowed to attend your usual duties two hours later for the first week, until you become accustomed to him.”
“Exceptionally empathetic.” He had no idea. Miranda had been an Alliance Medic until she had been injured and left for dead on a battlefield. The slavers had retrieved her, repaired her and put her up for sale. The fact that she was a high level empath had escaped their scans. She supposed that they had felt that an empath would not have been left for dead. Normally, they would have been right.
If she had not been drawn to all pain, and not just that of the Alliance personnel, it would have been true. But the suffering of all members of a battle drew her to help them, even that of the enemies and raiders, a fact that did not do wonders for her popularity with the other members of the Medical team. At first it had just been taunts, but at the last battle, it had lead to one of her own team spearing her in the thigh to ‘help’ leave her behind.
Life as a slave was considerably less stressful. She knew what she had to do and once it was done, her time was her own. She had no great drive for freedom, knowing where it would lead. Back to the Alliance, and a job she hated. Not to mention the co-workers who hated her for doing her job.
She shook herself awake and left the room, her mind only occasionally drifting to the Enjel she would be sharing her bed with. The table was set for the buyers that would be coming in that evening, with Kimn’s place at the head of the table prepared with the separate stage/trolley he used when eating.
Sorka would be serving tonight. The insectoids that were in for the purchase would not be impressed by a human. A Brrkash, on the other hand, would impress them mightily. They had lost several wars to the Brrkash, and would be pleased by being served by one. Kimn was a wily trader, and used every chance he had to throw his customers off-guard.
It made the bargaining easier.
* * * * * *
Miranda stretched as the last platters left the kitchen, carried by the sullen Sorka. Both sets of her arms were full, and she moved with grace on her lower six limbs. The rest of the dishes had been washed and anything that was left could be taken care of in the morning.
Miranda rubbed her eyes, then blinked. Man, she had to get some sleep.
She stumbled into her room after using the hygienic chamber, leaving the lights out, and yawned mightily as she approached her bed, shedding her clothes as she went. She crawled between the sheets in the warm stillness and was almost asleep when she felt the cool, smooth body press up against her back.
“Holy hell!” She flipped out of her bed and quickly lit the lamp. Her hands moved surely in the dark, and soon she was turning to look at the intruder. She blinked in surprise, then remembered.
A tousled Enjel was in her bed, looking sleepy and confused. His black hair fell over inky eyes, his midnight wings standing out in stark contrast to his pale skin.
The sheet had fallen to his waist, leaving a wonderful set of abs exposed. He was built like the statue of David, and there was absolutely no hint of lust in his eyes. She was buck naked in the candlelight, but his gaze was steady on her face.
“Didn’t Master Kimn ask you? He said he did.” His voice was husky and unsure.
“Yes, he did, I am sorry. I forgot.” She slid back into her bed, and tried to relax as his arms came around her and his body conformed itself to hers. She flicked the light out and took a deep breath.
It took him a minute or two to weave his limbs around her, but she was soon held securely against a very naked body. It would have been arousing if he had shown the least amount of interest in her, but as it was, she soon fell asleep.
She woke feeling very warm, the reason being instead of a blanket, there was a wing of soft and delicate feathers covering her. Apparently they had shifted while they slept. She was now flat on her back, with his body covering three quarters of hers and his wings covering everything else.
His skin was no longer cool; sleeping pressed against her seemed to have worked.
She whispered, “Myrik, wake up.”
“Mmmff…” Was all that emanated from the pillow next to her.
She began to squirm out from under him. Using the edge of the bed to pull herself out. He flopped into the warm spot that her body left behind as soon as she moved, murmuring with pleasure.
“Huh. Spend a night with a guy and all he wants to do is stay in bed.” She gathered her clothing from the floor and got dressed. With a look at the chronometer, she scooted to the kitchen and began to clean up the leftovers from the night before.
It was just another day.
Her workload was the same, but every time she had to go outside, she noticed Myrik watching her from the pens. Once, his attention was so split that a Tovah nearly got the best of him. He used his wings at the last moment to propel himself over it. The flexing of muscles was certainly impressive.
But that night she was already in bed when he arrived, having had no other dinner parties to serve at. He began to disrobe, but then had to ask, “What are you? I mean, species-wise. You are extremely warm.”
“Ah, I am a Terran. We are new out here, an Alliance protectorate. We have our five Champions already, though, so soon we might be everywhere.”
His smooth, cool body slid in behind her and she shivered. “If you are a protectorate species, then how did you end up here? Isn’t it illegal to own you?”
“I was picked up off a battlefield by raiders. My own ship had left me for dead. They repaired me, and sold me.” She paused. “How did you end up here?”
“I was traveling with some friends--not very good choices, as it turned out--and they ran out of money and sold me to a trader.” He sounded a little bitter, but nothing he wasn’t entitled to.
“Don’t you have a parent? A Guardian to come and look for you?” She was startled.
“A Guardian, Osias Aron. He was a friend of my father’s. He will come for me. I just hope that it’s soon. I hate working with Tovah.” He began to wrap around her again, his cool flesh pressing against her warmth. One hand crept between her breasts, the other around her waist.
She laughed at the image of an Enjel with his Terran teddy bear, and went to sleep.
Chapter Two
Miranda and Myrik soon got into a routine. Whichever one got to bed first warmed the covers for the other, then when he/she climbed into the little cocoon, he wrapped himself around her to draw her body heat to him. The only side effect that she noted was that she was much hungrier. The extra calories of heat he was using had to be replaced.
Kimn stopped Miranda in the hall one afternoon. “I need you to wear your special outfit this evening. We have a purchaser.”
“Ah, all right. But what time will I be free to leave for the night? Myrik will want to know.” They had gotten into a habit of letting each other know about the time they would be going to bed. It kept the surprises to a minimum.
“Myrik will be at the dinner, so don’t worry about that.” With a shiver of green goo, he was around the corner and gone. That was surprising. There had never been a meal with the servants in attendance in anything other that serving capacity since she had arrived.
Weird.
Two hours before the guest was to arrive, she made sure that the appropriate food was being prepared. The cook was really good at feeding all species but like any artist, he occasionally got carried away. She flicked a few toxins off of his list and left him to it.
Then she was off to start getting into her ‘fancy’ outfit. She spent an inordinate amount of time in the hygienic chamber, cleaning herself from head to toe and back again.
Her hair was blonde and hung to her waist; it was also dead straight. She brushed it out and braided it into intricate patterns on her he
ad, held in place with jeweled pins. Makeup took five minutes; outlining her eyes with a kohl-type substance and darkening her lips to a blood red.
The clothing was trickier. A length of silk crisscrossed her breasts, tying into the belt that she had first put on. A collection of silks had been pinned into a skirt for her, and this also tied into the belt. She felt completely naked, though all salient points were covered. The chronometer chimed, and she stood up and checked her reflection in the mirror. It was as good as it was going to get. She looked like a candidate for companion training.
She was standing in the dining room with her hands folded in front of her and her head down when they came through the door. Kimn, Myrik and what was obviously another Enjel, possibly his Guardian. She kept her head down. They took their places at the table. Whoever the male with them was, he was definitely enjoying the view. She felt his eyes burning through her clothing as she moved around the table, serving and clearing. Through course after course, she served with her head down. She listened avidly to the gossip of the Alliance, and reports of raids on trading centers, like the one that Kimn bought her at.
Apparently the Alliance was looking for something--or someone.
Finally dessert was served, and a hot beverage brought on a tray. The dinner was over. Now for business. Kimn was exceptionally predictable. He always fed his purchasers first, then gouged their purses. The Enjel spoke first, a surprising move.
“Kimn, how much do you want for Myrik? His family has been looking for some time.” The Enjel leaned back in his chair, watching her every move with his black eyes. She felt both hot and cold at the same time. Usually that meant she was aroused, or coming down with a cold. But she couldn’t be aroused by just a look. Could she? A slight shiver went through her, and he smiled.