Jaron's Promise

by Michelle Howard

  “What do you want?”

  This time he didn’t get a warning. The guard shoved the shock stick at him and despite his sharp reflexes, the tip tagged his shoulder with a jolt of electricity and Jaron went down, body twitching on the floor. Unable to move, he gritted his teeth and watched them go for the Argoran female.

  ***

  When the helmeted heads turned in her direction, Sasha knew her time was up. They were here for her.

  Panic locked her muscles in place. As much as she’d prepared for this moment nothing compared to the fear racing through her veins. It bolstered her confidence to see they needed two and not the usual one to take her in. They held shock sticks and her inner cat snarled, rage and defiance burning.

  Brows drawn, Jaron approached the bars of his cage. Without clothing his body still managed to convey a sense of danger and intimidation. “What do you want?”

  It was a hopeless stall, but Sasha appreciated his effort. Certainly no one else here would speak out.

  Too bad a wave of the shock stick took him down. Sasha flinched in sympathy as he jerked and twitched on the floor for attempting to interfere. Seeing him in pain and paralyzed from the hit sent renewed anger roaring to the forefront.

  Stepping away from the door of her cage, Sasha extended a carefree arm. “Come in.”

  “Make it easy, shifter, or go the hard way. It matters not to me.” Mechanical and without any identifying traits the voice pierced her courage.

  After watching how they interacted and knowing the process, she waited for them to enter the code for the electronic key pad, then the retinal scan and at last the palm print verification.

  As soon as the gate swung open, she launched her attack. “I prefer the hard way.”

  Her cat responded instantly and Sasha shifted into her alternate all white four-legged form. The resounding roar shook the metal framework around them. Vision tunneled, becoming muted shades of gray. She leaped through the opening tackling the first guard, her plate sized palms hitting his chest dead center, claws extended. They fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Claws tore through his protective vest to the leather shirt beneath.

  Blood filled the air and the scent drove her frenzy higher. She gnashed her teeth, going for his throat, but he threw up an arm to block. Her oversized fangs sunk into the meaty flesh, his scream a victory for her.

  “Stop! Get back!” His partner bounced around them attempting to shock her, but Sasha stayed low in close quarters. Her large animal body easily pinned the struggling man beneath her to the floor.

  When he tried to roll her off of him, her back claws dug into his flesh, shredding through the tendons of his upper thigh. Another scream ripped from his throat before a jolt of pain struck Sasha. It spiked from her left hip followed by another and another. She leaped back from her prey and tracked her new enemy. The second guard’s hands shook on the shock stick. Sweat and fear laced his scent.

  She thirsted for more. Crouching in an attack position, Sasha growled and stalked forward while he backed up until he hit the wall and there was no more room for him to maneuver. Her vision grew hazy, the shocks she’d absorbed finally taking effect. Sasha wanted to finish this even if she knew she’d black out any moment. She lunged for his throat and the world went dark.

  ***

  Paralyzed, Jaron watched in awe as Sasha took on the two guards. If he thought her beautiful before, she blew his mind in her Argoran form. Seeing his team mate Arak as a cat didn’t register on his radar, but this was different. All white fur overlaid the sleek, rippling body which bunched with power the moment she leaped through the open gate of her cell.

  Blood spilled and cries rang out. Jaron mentally cheered her on as she brutalized her opponent, wishing he could provide assistance. It went against the core of his nature as an Enotian male and Jutak warrior to see a woman fighting alone. Magnificence defined her fierce attack as she mauled the first. He flinched when the second guard struck her with the shock stick, but she continued to fight.

  His heart pounded in concert with the action occurring feet away. Sasha’s cat yowled and snarled and suddenly she staggered. The effect from the shock stick kept him from getting up but Jaron struggled hard, temple pounding in pain as if his force of will alone could keep her upright.

  Another jab from the shock stick and she crashed to her front. Spatters of red dotted her fur, but it was nothing compared to the guard who no longer moved.

  The remaining guard appeared stunned and unsure. He slapped his palm on the wall unit. “Assistance needed in the section with the new prisoners. The Argoran attacked.”

  “Confirmed.”

  Visibly trembling, the guard slumped against the wall after hearing the response. The doors slid open and four new uniformed men came in armed with laser powered snipers. No more shock sticks, they meant business.

  Jaron wiggled his jaw as his vocal chords released and nerves in his limbs tingled with the return of sensation. He had to bite his tongue as they lifted the dead guard and the other two hauled the bulky cat from the room. Everything in him wanted to call out, to protest them taking Sasha away.

  He needed to think like a Jutak. Assess the enemy. Plan. Sit back and wait. Without a doubt, Lothar and The Collector were involved with his abduction. Jaron only hoped his team would be able to find him. He had the feeling his dire circumstances might not end well.

  Chapter 5

  “Are you alright?”

  Sasha shook her head and pushed to sit up. Her arms remained locked in place. Opening her eyes, she peered around at the bright white lights overhead. A smiling dark brown face leaned over her and she realized she lay flat on a table of some sort.

  “Are you alright?”

  Dry cotton filled her mouth and her head sizzled with residual pain. Otherwise, she flexed her fingers but the bindings at her wrists stopped her from doing more. Her throat worked. “What’s going on?”

  He looked pleased with her calm question, the muddy brown eyes bright.

  Think, Sasha. Think. Don’t react. She was the first to admit she had a hair trigger. It worked well with her role as a Bounty Retriever but not necessarily in situations that required patience and a subtle touch. Sasha was anything but subtle.

  “I’m Dr. Kirkem. Let me get you something to drink.”

  He disappeared and the clink of glassware filled the quiet hum in the room until he reappeared holding a clear cylinder filled with a white liquid. She pulled her head away when he placed the rim at her mouth. “Sorry if I don’t trust anything you give me.”

  Dr. Kirkem. Sasha had heard of the doctor also know as The Collector. No one really knew much about him, yet rumors abounded. Those caught by him were never seen again.

  He lost his friendly smile and his brown eyes darkened. Evil lurked in those depths. She tugged on her bonds again, but received little give.

  “Why don’t you make this easy on both of us? Take a sip of this regen fluid. I’m sure you’re aware of the effects of a shock stick. Dry mouth, fatigued muscles, and a mild headache. This drink will help with that.”

  Against her better judgment, she took a few swallows. The headache faded as he predicted and she gratefully consumed the liquid.

  “Very good.” His smile returned as he placed the container on a table beyond her sight. “A few tests and you can return to your holding.”

  “Cage,” she spat and twitched about. Glancing down at the leather across her chest, mid-torso and arms, she tried her claws. True panic pierced her when her claws didn’t extend. “What did you do to me?”

  He patted her shoulder. The oily touch left Sasha feeling dirty. “A mild sedative. Don’t worry. Can’t have you doing damage to yourself or others.”

  Argorans had extreme sensitivity to drugs. What if he’d affected her ability to shift permanently? Her cat let out a mournful wail inside. Sasha fought the leather bindings, her back arching up from the table. “Orland put you up to this. Wait until I go after him.”

 
“I’m not sure who that is, but I think worrying about Orland won’t be your main concern.”

  Unwilling to succumb easily, she sneered. She planned to kick Orland’s ass as soon as she gained her freedom. “Then you don’t know me very well.”

  He chuckled, the notes dancing down her spine in an unpleasant way. “On the contrary, I plan to know you very well, Sasha F’Lan, former Bounty Retriever.”

  Goosebumps tripped across her skin at his knowledge of her full name. “There’s nothing former about my job.”

  She almost vomited when he ran his hand through her short hair, the kind touch belaying the cruel light in his eyes.

  “So fierce. I’ve always wanted to work with an Argoran. Never managed to acquire one until now. My good fortune I guess you could say.” Sasha grimly remained silent and again his true colors showed in the irritation crossing his features before he blanked his expression. “Let’s get started.”

  His tests were nothing more than thinly disguised torture. Constant blood draws which caused tiny pricks of pain in her lower arm followed by jolts of electricity through the collar about her neck. Eyes welling and teeth gritted, Sasha battled through the pain. She refused to give him the satisfaction of crying out.

  He held up the vials of the blue liquid he’d drawn. Her blood. An odd greedy light filled his gaze. Questions bounced in between the moments he eased up. They ranged from interest in her family to her background and her job. Each lack of answer on her part resulted in a zap through the collar. He grew louder, more impatient and at one point gripped her hair firmly to yell his questions.

  Tight lipped, Sasha gave him nothing. Next, he probed about the nature of Argorans. Their healing ability, the spirit of shifting from four legs to two and vice versa. He seemed particularly focused on the mating cycle.

  “Do you know why only males go through muata?”

  Males of her species went through a mating heat twice a year called muata. During this time pregnancy could occur in the females. The process became painful for the men if not addressed with an influx of sexual encounters until the muata period ended.

  But she wasn’t sharing any of that with him and curled her upper lip, flashing fang. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Dr. Kirkem gripped her chin roughly and yanked her face toward him. Her breath lodged in her throat, heartrate doubling. “You will answer my questions, cat.”

  Instant hatred ignited in her gut. Generation after generation of Argorans proudly shifted into their alternate form. It was a part of them. Calling her a cat in that tone was akin to insulting her heritage. Sasha lunged only to have the straps keep her from doing serious damage. She snapped her fangs at him, missing his fingers as he released her and took a quick step back.

  Lingering snarls rose from her chest. “I don’t have to do anything.”

  “This is disappointing to hear.” He gestured around the lab. “What I do is for science. All I need is your help.”

  What he needed she could provide if he let her loose. One swipe of her claws could end his miserable existence. “It’s for your own sick mind.”

  He didn’t like that. Not at all. His face darkened and the pleasant façade faded to be replaced with what she considered his true self. It spoke of his madness as nothing else could. Full lips twisted in an ugly frown, fingers clenched and unclenched as he gripped the ends of his dark hair.

  Eyes closed, he inhaled and exhaled a few times. When he stared at her next, nothing of the rage remained, his placid look firmly back in place. “I shouldn’t have expected an animal to understand my work and what I seek to do.”

  Sasha curled her lip again and growled for an answer. Smiling, he began to hum under his breath and gather supplies and equipment out of her range of vision. Letting her neck relax, her head hit the table with a thump. She pushed hard for a meditative state to no end.

  Sasha was not a meditative person.

  More blood drawn, more questions which she ignored. On the wall, a digital device displayed the units of time as it passed. Pain became a constant, his voice a background hum through it all. Sasha considered herself tough and capable of withstanding much, but Dr. Kirkem created a new level of hurt. Her only saving grave came from not screaming or begging as some of his so called tests left her trembling and gasping.

  “I think I’ll try my first sample.” At her lack of response, he summoned someone named Targa.

  While they waited for this person to arrive, he fiddled with more of his equipment, mumbling under his breath the entire time. Sweaty and shaking, Sasha used the opportunity to search for a way to free herself. Straps held her down across the neck, torso and hips. He’d also pinned both arms and legs down. Whatever he’d used on her so far left her jittery and her skin on fire. She couldn’t call upon her cat to shift.

  The door opened on a swish and a woman dressed in a white jumpsuit entered with brownish horns curving from the sides of her head amidst long black hair flowing down her shoulders and a collar around her throat. Marenian. Sasha’s heart thudded. Marenia was a known slave planet.

  “Excellent. Targa will record.” Dr. Kirkem held up an injector filled with a light blue liquid.

  There was too much triumph in his gaze. Unsure what he planned or what was in the injector, Sasha jerked and tugged. If she had one hand free. “Don’t!”

  Her protest didn’t matter. He pressed the injector to her forearm and whatever cocktail he devised drained away into her bloodstream while she watched in trepidation. “As we wait there are a few more things I can check.”

  He left her alone, the timing device clicking minute by minute. Targa smiled grimly. Sasha knew better than to ask her for anything. Marenians only cared about themselves. When Dr. Kirkem returned, his next test was intrusive and Sasha kept her eyes on the ceiling, low rumbles trickling from behind her locked jaw.

  “Why?” She finally burst out after he removed the clear gloves. Her core ached from the probes he’d used to remove samples and shame heated her cheeks despite his detached manner during the process.

  Pleased at the first word she’d uttered in almost an hour other than don’t, he stepped toward her shoulders and placed a palm close to her face as he bent over. His heavy cloying scent washed over her as his shadowed form blocked the bright flare of the overhead light. “I’m going to try and recreate muata.”

  Sasha gaped. “I’m female. We don’t undergo heat.”

  He patted her stomach, causing her to cringe and twist about. “Yet. Something in the female has to trigger it in the males and I plan to discover how. Now I have a few more tests to run and then we’re done.”

  Through it all, she latched on to one thought. Through the nausea, the sweats, and the pain she kept reminding herself. He’d pay. Dr. Kirkem and Orland would pay. She’d make sure of it.

  ***

  When they brought Sasha back to her cage, she shivered and trembled, walking hunched over with only one guard to aid her. Jaron jumped to his feet the moment the guard crossed the threshold and dropped her onto the floor. Remembering the no talking directive, he counted off in his head until the guard left.

  “Sasha.” He knelt as close as he could where their cages met. “Sasha, talk to me.”

  Sprawled on her ass, she tipped her head to the side facing him, but her eyes remained closed.

  “Sasha.”

  He stretched his arm between the bars and touched the tousled waves on her head. Damp. Sweat soaked her skin and heat poured from her body in shimmering waves. Lips chalky, she tried twice to speak.

  “Easy.” Holding back his anger, Jaron ran his hands in a soothing pattern from forehead to the back of her neck. It was all he could reach. She leaned into his touch and purred. The sound burrowed into his chest causing all sorts of reactions. He knew of the Argoran propensity for purring, but had never heard it. Not even from his team mate Arak.

  While he waited for her to recover, Jaron took inventory of her appearance. The glow he’d admired on her skin no long
er existed, leaving her tones muddy. Despite the heat she gave off, occasional shivers shook her body. He didn’t see any external bruising.

  Lashes fluttered and she cracked her eyes to narrow slits. Jaron admitted to a distinct fascination for the rich jeweled tones. Her green eyes had mesmerized him from the moment he woke. Only skill and training had kept him from giving away his reaction. Now they were dull.

  His arousal he couldn’t hide, her scent too enticing to be ignored. Instead, he pretended not to notice his body’s response to her. As he sat beside her separated by the confines of their cages, worry itched at Jaron’s gut.

  She stretched, rolling to her front on a painful groan and he adjusted his hold to continue caressing the silky strands of midnight black hair twirling about his fingers.

  Honey brown skin all over. The dip in her back sloped toward twin cheeks and long legs. Jaron leaned down, face close enough to brush his lips over her temple. “Come on back, Sasha.”

  What had they done to her? He saw no signs of damage to her body. Clearly, she hurt or she wouldn’t have needed the guard’s help to return.

  “Jaron?” Weak and low, he still heard.

  Relief poured through him and another twinge pierced his heart. “Right here, Sasha.”

  She stiffened then much to his regret, pulled away and he lost the small pleasure of touching her hair. Sasha sat up and blinked, gazing around in confusion. Three sets of eyes stared at them. For the moment, Jaron chose not to pay the other prisoners any mind.

  Completely focused on Sasha, he watched as she gathered herself together, the shakes wearing off bit by bit.

  “We’re being held by Dr. Kirkem. I’m not sure if the name means anything to you, but he’s also known far and wide as The Collector.” She faced him and the shadows in her eyes hinted at the trauma she’d suffered. Jaron clenched his hands into fists and listened. “This is not good. At all.”