Since even before he’d boarded the ship, Bergeron had tried too hard to make Jeremy believe he didn’t have a crush on Angelica. He’d respected her as the captain of the Mirage, and since he felt like she saved his life by making them all abandon ship, he also wanted her found safely.
But Drew was right, his intensity was a little bit off putting. Perhaps he’d go have a chat with him and check the status of the engines before crawling gratefully into his bunk for a few hours. He stood from his chair, felt the weight of his body sag, and changed his mind.
“I’ll have a chat with him on my way back to the command deck, after I get some quality sleep.”
“Why don’t you take a full eight hour shift off? You probably need it.”
“Yeah well, four hours is all I can stand to stay still. Once I’m awake, then I’m up. Something about my body always needing to be in motion. Maybe it’s shit left over from being in the military.”
“Okay. Suit yourself. But I can certainly last longer here if you change your mind.”
“Thanks, Drew. For everything.”
His friend’s eyebrows drew together in question.
“You know, for volunteering to come along without question on this unusual trip.”
He brightened. “Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” Drew seated himself in the captain’s chair without making it look like he coveted the position, which Jeremy also appreciated.
Jeremy slept without dreaming solidly for over four hours before popping out of his bunk with renewed energy. There was really no replacement for good, solid sleep. He showered quickly, leaving the captain’s quarters to head down to engineering. He wanted to check on Bergeron before relieving Drew on the command deck.
Drew had told him to take a longer rest time, but once Jeremy was conscious—boom—he was really awake. And he hated resting in bed when he wasn’t out cold and asleep. Unless, of course, Angelica was with him. She was also someone who didn’t seem to need more than four to six hours of sleep at a time. Before she’d disappeared, he’d frequently watched her sleep. After he’d gotten his requite four hours of shut eye, Jeremy would stare at her as she rested, stroking her arm, her face, her hair, just to be connected, and always so grateful she was with him. Often she woke as he watched her, and then wild wonderful sex ensued.
What would he give to have her back again like they used to be? Easy answer. Anything. Everything.
Jeremy rounded the corner of the short hall leading to engineering. Pausing a moment to consider the time and whether Bergeron would be asleep or not, Jeremy reconsidered just barging in on him like this. Then again, if he was down here, then he was either on duty and working, or off duty and should be in his assigned quarters, not sleeping in the engine room.
Before Jeremy took a single step, he heard what sounded like a battle taking place from a tunnel. What was that?
He moved silently down the hall, listening carefully. The clang of a heavy sword meeting another metallic object made its way down to where Jeremy was. The roar of a ferocious beast then trailed down the hall. A cheer as if from a crowd, and then…was that a person screaming?
Fuck.
Jeremy marched into engineering as the battle sounds got louder and louder. He looked around for any sign of danger and then realized he maybe should have tried to get more sleep. As he approached the engineering office, he saw the flickering of bluish light as if from a monitor showcasing a digital motion recording. A video? Really?
He saw the top of Bergeron’s head, facing away and staring intently at the wide screen on the desk. A few more steps and Jeremy saw a realistic-looking fight in an arena with gladiators carrying swords and fighting mutant animals to their death. Was it real or just an especially good video fake? After watching a few more minutes he realized it was real.
Shit. Bergeron was watching battle porn. Illegal battle porn.
There was a very popular yet unlawful trade in this type of video. Illegal because, first it was quite immoral in his opinion to make captured humans fight to their death for the amusement of those willing to pay to see the carnage, and second, the only place he knew of that provided videos like this was District Six.
Nothing that came out of the Forbidden Zone of District Six was legal. Nothing.
The well-muscled man, wielding a heavy-looking two-bladed sword, watched a charging, slavering beast come at him, galloping at full speed. The animal opened its large mouth, showcasing two rows of razor-sharp teeth on both the top and bottom. The man didn’t even seem to notice the teeth. He still waited, his focus on the six legs about to trample him. At an opportune time, he ducked to one side, and promptly drove his double-pointed weapon into the neck of the beast as it passed by him.
The animal roared, slamming face first into the dirt covered ground of the arena. The gladiator sporting burnished blond hair almost brushing his collar, looked over the unmoving beast, staring off screen. The man smiled, so Jeremy figured it wasn’t another animal about to attack. He leaned forward, noticing that the man had a chain around his waist. A slave then. And who was he attached to? Before it showed the other captured human chained to him, the video cut to two dark-haired, bearded men also chained together not having as good a luck with their vile beast challenge.
Another strange-looking hybrid animal—hiding in its mouth what Jeremy knew now was double rows of razor-sharp teeth—charged toward one of the dark haired chained gladiators. The guy on the left jabbed at the beast halfheartedly. In response, the beast leapt forward, pounced on him, and bit his head off. The man on the right started screaming, and pointing at the now headless body he was still chained to until he met the exact same grisly fate.
Bergeron made an amused sound, his gaze still transfixed on the screen.
Jeremy paused, and rolled his eyes, trying to decide if he should punish the young engineer or sit down and watch this crap with him as a sort of bonding moment. If this were any other mission, he’d whip out the regulation book and cite chapter and verse of why Bergeron shouldn’t be watching illegal DMR videos using work equipment.
But if he went into Mr. Regulation mode, he’d be such a huge hypocrite because this whole mission was against every single rule in the book. Starting with never go to the Forbidden Zone. Ever. For any reason.
Jeremy looked to his left and saw a sleeping bag rolled out, the top turned down and opened as if bedtime was next. Or perhaps he’d also just woken and needed death by gladiator sword to get his juices flowing.
To each his own. Jeremy planned to stop at the galley on the way to the command deck for a hot steaming cup of coffee as a wake up boost. Bergeron made another noise of appreciation, bringing Jeremy out of his caffeine reverie to zero in on what had piqued his interest.
The next gladiator on the screen, sporting a shaved head and a braided six-inch golden beard of all things, had just dispatched his hellish creature back to…well, probably hell, as the animal slumped to its side, spewing gallons of wine-colored blood all over the man who’d just killed him.
The gladiator threw back his head and roared in triumph. The unseen spectators roared with him, chanting something, possibly his name over and over again. Vi-darr? Whatever.
There was a wide shot of the gladiator arena. It looked like there were three battles going on at the same time. The two dark-haired men, Vidarr and his braided beard, battling beasts alone, and the clever, agile guy he’d seen first with a mystery guest chained to his waist.
Doors suddenly opened up along the inside of the wooden arena, and a steady stream of simply dressed people raced into the ring to clear it of beasts, blood, weapons, and the unfortunate dead. The video then focused on a well-dressed man, looking much like a king, seated on a throne with his entourage surrounding him.
Since the battle was over, Jeremy decided it was time to have that chat.
“Bergeron,” he said.
The young man let out a shriek and jumped straight up out of his chair. Jeremy wouldn’t have been surprised to
see him looking down over one shoulder as he clung to the pipes along the office ceiling with his fingernails.
The horrified look in his eyes said it all. “Captain…I…I…” he glanced at the screen where Mr. Golden Beard-Braid, covered in purple beast blood, was walking toward the side of a wooden arena. The view went back to the king again. He noticed a beautiful blonde-haired woman with brilliant blue eyes seated next to him. She watched carefully as the blood-soaked gladiator with the golden braided beard approached.
The king started a speech, saying something about his premier gladiators.
“I’m not angry, Bergeron,” Jeremy also started out. “But I didn’t expect you to live down here twenty-four-seven on this trip.”
On the screen, the gladiator said in a harsh tone, “…must we share the woman he’s chained to, or do I fight again to win what should be rightfully mine?” Vidarr’s heavily accented words sounded vaguely familiar to Jeremy for some strange reason. But he didn’t think he knew any gladiators. Especially not in District Six.
“Captain, sir, I’m very sorry.” Bergeron reached out frantically to turn the DMR video off, hitting a button that made the volume go up, just as Angelica’s face was suddenly centered in the screen. She was angry and beautiful. Jeremy was transfixed in a second.
“I’m not some whore to be passed around and shared,” she said passionately, and loudly because of the increased volume.
Jeremy’s heart flipped over hard in his chest.
Suddenly, Bergeron found the right button and the video screen went blank.
What the fuck?
Chapter Eleven
William readied for his final battle as he always did. He was meticulous about not changing his routine. And since today was the most important fight of all, he especially didn’t want to upset his usual customs.
Across the room, Parisa also did what she normally did. They’d eaten and now she was stacking the breakfast dishes, readying the food tray for removal while they were busy being victorious in their fortieth fight.
He didn’t want to be cocky, but he wondered if this room was their brief destination after winning today’s match. Would they be brought back to the fresh-cut flowers and food so they could have one last fuck for good measure after a forty battle winning streak well fought?
Would he win? More worrisome was if he lost, what would happen to Parisa? Uncertainty colored his thoughts. He didn’t trust Lord Harcourt in the least, but there was a certain expectant vibe in the air. Everyone knew this was his last fight. All of the spectators had buzzed more loudly each time he’d entered the gladiator ring this previous week. Perhaps the audience pressure would sway his lordship to keep his word. Perhaps not.
Either way he pressed forward. It was all he could do.
His other concern had to do with what beasts he’d be up against today. The two men who’d helped train him early on hadn’t returned for the past fifteen or so fights. One day they just stopped showing up. Although they’d told him repeatedly he had an uncanny knack for figuring out what they were trying to teach him anyway. Even from the first. He did seem to have inherent skills meant for battle. Hopefully, those same skills would also help him in whatever came next.
After he’d won.
After this carnage-filled life was over.
After Parisa was finally safe once and for all.
Confident he could size up any situation on the fly—as he’d done since he’d been here—even when the beasts seemed more ferocious and his weapons less effective, William knew he was as ready as he’d ever be for today’s match. Just as he’d figured out all the best strategies for winning every other battle he’d fought, and sometimes as he’d watched the beasts charging him the first time.
The sound of the door unlocking in their room brought him back to the present. He stood. Ready for battle.
Parisa looked over her shoulder and gave him a special smile. The one which never failed to move him. The one that said, “I believe in you, and I know you’ll be triumphant.”
Gruvat entered, motioning them out. He handed him a sword and pointed toward the small square of light at the end of the hall and the entrance to the arena. Gruvat chained them together at the waist first and then gave Parisa a sword as well. His back-up weapon. The one she wasn’t supposed to use to help defend them.
They’d discussed that very topic the night before. He was grateful that Parisa was the one to say, “I wish I could help you, Will. I truly do, but if I break protocol tomorrow and use whatever weapon they give me, it gives Lord Harcourt an excuse not to fulfill the bargain.”
“I agree. I’m sorry. I wish the rules were different.”
She’d promptly snuggled up to him, and kissed him fervently until he’d wanted her desperately. She’d then quietly climbed on top of him and they’d made love one last time when they likely should have been sleeping. William had no regrets, even by the light of day.
Today’s weapon was large, double edged, heavy, and hopefully very deadly to whatever waited for them in the ring.
William marched forward, determination punctuated his every step.
Once in the arena, Parisa chained by his side, the door behind them closed. Unlike all of the other battles, the two of them were the only gladiators in the arena. An expectant cheer came up from the packed stadium when William lifted his sword in the air and roared.
It felt good to scream, releasing the dank, dungeon air from his lungs. Beside him, Parisa joined in, yelling at the top of her lungs. The crowd in the arena responded to her as well, cheering and clapping, soon chanting, “Will-iam, Will-iam.”
Across the arena, a door opened and a large lion came trotting out. Behind him, a tiger scampered into the ring and promptly attacked the lion, by jumping on him. The lion turned quickly, biting at the tiger’s neck as a great feline brawl ensued. Interesting. The beasts were just regular animals, not a hybrid mixed with anything else, not larger than expected or a strange color. Likely their blood would turn out to be red.
The two large cats continued rolling around in the dirt as a third beast lumbered slowly into the ring, rearing up on its hind legs the moment it cleared the tunnel.
Big, furry and easily eight feet tall standing up on its back legs, the third beast was the most ferocious looking of the three. The huge, white bear walked unsteadily for a few steps before falling back down to all four paws. His large head turned toward them and he promptly scrambled into a loping run headed straight for them.
William made ready, waiting for the beast to display some other unexpected hybrid quality, like sprouting eight legs or exhibiting razor-sharp rows of sharpened-to-a-point teeth, but it just seemed like an ordinary big, white bear. He dodged the animal at the last possible second, jabbing his sword into the beast’s side, aiming for its heart. He hit his mark.
Red blood spewed onto the arena floor, which was in fact turned out to be worse than all the strange blood colors let by all the previous hybrid beasts. The copper scent of blood filled the air around them as he readied his sword for the next threat.
The lion and tiger stopped playing and rolling around, both looking over at the dying bear. They also came trotting over together. To investigate the bear, or to play with the humans, he wasn’t sure. He gave Parisa an uncertain look. She gave him an encouraging smile, but he could tell by her expression—and the several sympathetic glances at the downed bear—that she felt the same way about this beast’s death.
William had to shake off his hearty dislike of killing non-hybrid animals. Had Lord Harcourt finally found his ultimate weakness?
The tiger started running, heading for Parisa. William gathered his determination and stepped in front of her. As the tiger came within striking distance, he realized the chain tethering them together was stuck beneath one of the bear’s hind legs.
He couldn’t move when he wanted. His timing was thrown off as the threat approached. The tiger swatted a large paw along his flank, before William could use his sword.
Four deep tiger claw punctures registered before his weapon found purchase. Unfortunately, momentum and the tiger falling, pulled him down to the ground, too. William turned in time to see the lion leap into the air, aiming to land on top of them both.
Damn. He wasn’t going to get his sword out of the tiger in time to deal with the lion.
Ironic to defeat so many strange hybrid beasts for so many battles, only to be taken down by a lion, a tiger, and a bear when it counted the most.
* * * *
“Turn that back on this instant!” Jeremy shouted at Bergeron.
The engineer had already started apologizing profusely as he’d hit the stop button, ending the battle porn streaming onto the engineering’s wide monitor screen.
Bergeron stopped stuttering, as a confused look encompassed his expression. “Back on, sir?”
“Did you not see Angelica in that gladiator ring? Didn’t you not just hear her voice?” Jeremy marched over, and hit the button to bring the monitor back on. The battle on the video had apparently been streaming in, but was ended by the time he turned the display back on. The gladiators were no longer in the arena. He didn’t see Angelica anywhere. She’d been in the ring before, chained to the other gladiator.
“No sir.” He looked completely panicked. “I only saw the gladiators and the beasts, and—”
“Where was that streaming from?”
Bergeron suddenly looked at the floor, then at the ceiling, anywhere but Jeremy’s eyes, and said, “Well, it was a single view copy of something illegal that I know I wasn’t supposed to have, but—”
“Where did you get it?” Jeremy asked, cutting him off again. “Can you get another copy?”
The young man looked stricken. “No, sir. I swear, I’ll never see it again or try to get a copy of it.” He suddenly stood at attention, like he was back in cadet school or something.
“At ease, Bergeron.” Jeremy pushed out a breath and watched the rest of the video display continue. The time clock running down in the upper left said there was only less than a minute of runtime remaining. The view now showing only the well-dressed king, still at his fancy dais, staring at the blue-eyed blonde woman as she spoke, using her hands to gesture as her mouth moved. She looked familiar, but Jeremy couldn’t place her.
Sexual Memory [Dark Colony 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12
