One of the guards shoved him forward, causing him to stumble before regaining his balance. The door closed behind him leaving Jaron alone or so he thought.
“Jutak warrior, come in and join me.”
He recognized the voice of the man who’d taken him. “Dr. Kirkem. Or should I call you The Collector?”
The dark-skinned man stood up from a squat stool with wheels and smiled in a congenial fashion toward Jaron. His smile contained such true pleasure it was eerie. “Dr. Kirkem will do. Why don’t you sit?”
Jaron considered his options. The well kept lab with its sterile equipment might have a potential weapon he could smuggle back to his cage or use to barter for his release.
Laughter broke his train of thought. “Do you really think me foolish? If you try anything my guards know to release a deadly gas into the ventilation system where your new friends stay.”
His gaze zoomed back to the man holding him. Dressed in a blue top, white lab coat and brown pants nothing about his appearance seemed dangerous. But the tone he used when he voiced his threat couldn’t be ignored. Jaron took a seat in the chair, the cold metal sinking into his bare skin. He leaned back and assumed a relaxed posed.
“You have my attention.”
“Very good decision.” Dr. Kirkem withdrew a data pad from his front pocket. “I’ve been looking for something I lost as I’m sure you’re aware.”
Another smile which chilled Jaron more, but he maintained his bland expression.
The lack of reaction caused Dr. Kirkem’s lips to firm. “My treasure was from Earth like my lovely Luna who shares space with you.”
Luna, the blonde from Earth. Jaron said nothing.
“It’s come to my attention that any attempt to retrieve my property might result in a rather nasty fight.”
Nasty didn’t cover Kyele’s reaction if Dr. Kirkem even looked as if he’d try to go for Joni again.
Dr. Kirkem placed his data pad on the table beside him and leaned a hip against it. The mild look of curiosity in his brown eyes didn’t fool Jaron. There was a thread of boiling anger behind the stare. “Torkel Alonson. I’ve been told its his Unit who has made my situation precarious. He also seems to have something against Lothar.”
“Your point?” Jaron drawled, resting his folded hands over his middle.
The question snapped his veneer of calm. Slamming his palm flat on the table, The Collector straightened, losing his restraint. “My point, Jutak, is you owe me. Alonson’s team ruined my opportunity to pursue a profitable relationship with the head of the Marenian slave ring. Not to mention you took something of mine!”
Jaron found no reason to respond and only stared back in silence. Dr. Kirkem paced to within an inch of his parted knees. Every line of Jaron tensed in preparation. He’d love to snap the doctor’s neck but to do so risked the other prisoners. Until he knew if they were really in danger from poisonous gas, he needed to stay in control.
Tapping his chin, Dr. Kirkem cocked his head to the side. “I’ve heard about Jutaks. Soldiers professed to being more. Elite some say. How do you think you’ll do under some of my testing?”
Jaron ran across those like Dr. Kirkem. Pure evil and soulless. He didn’t care how Jaron responded. Any reaction on his part only dictated how extreme Dr. Kirkem planned to carry out his torture. “You’re going to do what you want. I don’t think you need my willing participation.”
Nostrils flared and the dark-haired doctor straightened. “Yes. You’re completely right. I don’t need your cooperation.”
He reached for his data pad and pressed a few keys. When he glanced up meeting Jaron’s stare, he grunted. “Before we start, I do have one question I hope you’ll be gracious enough to answer.”
Jaron quirked a brow. Answering anything about Jutaks wasn’t an option, but if it was a simple request perhaps he could lull him into lowering his guard.
“How is my Joni? I hope she’s being treated well.”
Ice filled Jaron’s veins. His pulse raced. Knowing about The Collector’s obsession, Jaron should have expected the query. Except talking about Joni meant talking about Kyele, his fellow Jutak warrior. He remained silent.
Dr. Kirkem sighed and pressed more buttons. “I asked a very easy question. Nothing to reveal your precious Jutak secrets. You make this very difficult.”
Behind him on the wall, a panel slid back revealing a vid screen. Color flickered. The image cleared to show his empty cell and the others in their neighboring cages. Luna curled on her side, hands covering her face. Minu rocked on her knees, arms clamped tight about her thighs. Ari appeared asleep. None warranted more than a quick glance.
Only Sasha drew Jaron’s lingering gaze.
She’d shifted, her large white cat growling and walking the perimeter of her barred space, occasionally swiping a clawed palm out. Despite the circumstances, he wanted to laugh at the disgruntled expression she wore.
“Interesting, isn’t it?”
Jaron faced Dr. Kirkem worried he’d revealed his thoughts. He sat forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “What is?”
The Collector continued staring at the screen as he responded. “Attachments are created in the oddest situations.”
A guard entered the room and went straight to the blue skinned Ari. Unable to do anything, Jaron watched as the already weakened male was hit repeatedly with a shock stick. He awakened on a cry, body jerking until he collapsed in a shuddering ball on the floor. Eyes narrowed, Jaron breathed through his nose and didn’t say anything.
“Nature creates this instinct to form bonds,” Dr. Kirkem continued. “Even when we don’t want them. That’s what happened with me and my Joni. Something about her drew me.”
Jaron’s gaze flickered, but he kept it on the screen as the guard headed for Minu’s cage next. The door opened remotely. As he watched, the female received a brutal beating with the guard kicking and punching her. Minu had no defense and attempted to protect herself by ducking low and wrapping her arms about her head until she slumped to the floor unconscious, dark bruising already appearing on her arms and legs.
Jaron’s breath hitched as the guard stopped before a growling Sasha. Everything in him stilled. His heartrate took off, the beats banging against his chest and he wasn’t sure how he’d react if forced to witness an attack on her.
“Now here is where I get sentimental. Out of my care for Joni, I offer you a choice, Jutak.”
The guard dragged a wicked sharp knife from the leather about his waist. Jaron’s fingers flexed but he kept them on his knees and turned his attention toward Dr. Kirkem. Whatever he heard wouldn’t be good. Nothing that happened here was good and it didn’t pay to pretend otherwise.
When Jaron didn’t answer, Dr. Kirkem squeezed his hand tight on the data pad. Jaron worked hard to appear unaffected. “Here’s my offer. The Argoran or the Earth woman.”
Forcing himself to stay in his chair and not go for the crazy scientist was difficult. He couldn’t fathom the question. “What about them?”
“You disappoint me.” Dr. Kirkem tapped a few keys, then lifted the data pad to his mouth. “The Earthling.”
The guard spun away from Sasha and approached the other cell. He entered and ignored Luna’s pleas. Jaron shot to his feet but when Dr. Kirkem held up his other hand with a remote, Jaron fisted his hands at his side, chest heaving.
“I will gas them now and kill them all unless you…sit…back…in…the…chair.”
On screen, the first slash went across Luna’s hip, spraying blood. Jaron bit his inner cheek, the pain jolting him. He kept his voice low and calm. “Stop hurting her.”
“Sit now!” Dr. Kirkem roared, his eyes flaring with the light of madness.
Another slash and Luna screamed.
Sweat trickling down the back of his neck, Jaron sat. “Enough! I’m sitting. Stop him.”
“That’s all for now, Hirtok.”
The guard obeyed the order and sheathed his knife, walking out of the cell whil
e Luna’s blood ran across the floor of her cell in thin trails.
Dr. Kirkem pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Once more. A simple question. How is my Joni?”
Whatever answer he gave would enrage him. Dr. Kirkem didn’t want to know how happy Joni was. Nor did he wish to hear about how she’d found love with his teammate Kyele. Anything Jaron said endangered the other prisoners. The man cared nothing for them as evident by his actions to force Jaron to tell him something he probably already knew.
If Jaron revealed a truth or a lie neither guaranteed Dr. Kirkem wouldn’t harm those he held captive. “Joni is free.”
A dark frown with a bite of cruelty. “Let’s get started on our testing. Shall we?”
***
Time dragged. Jaron had been gone for a long period of time. At least it felt that way to Sasha, but she was too worked up to truly judge. She shifted and pounded her fist onto the hard floor of her cell. Without warning, one guard had come in and brutalized everyone except her. Ari and Minu didn’t move, but Luna’s loud sniffling and choked cries drove Sasha’s cat mad. Through it all she wondered where Jaron was and what Dr. Kirkem was doing to him at this moment.
What if he didn’t return like the others? Hair at her nape curled on the fearful thought and Sasha stood in an angry rush. She rushed to the front of her cell and fisted the cold bars wanting to scream or demand. None of that would mean anything. She huffed out a breath and backed away.
Swallowing a stream of frustration, Sasha dropped to her haunches. Whatever caused the attacks came at The Collector’s request. Everything which happened here was because of his mad deliriums and torture disguised as experiments.
If only she knew Jaron was alright. The Jutak had grown on her. Dare she admit she actually liked him? She certainly wanted him. Her growing desire became harder and harder to conceal. His charm got to her though Sasha should have burned through any liking for a charming male after Orland.
She growled under her breath and the door chimed. The guard walked behind Jaron who strode forward without assistance. She lurched to her feet, then caught the narrowing of his blue eyes. Sasha yelled at the guard, wanting to deflect from any concern for Jaron she might have revealed. “Someone needs to help the others!”
The guard went through the process of securing Jaron. Once done, he glanced in her direction. “The Collector says lessons need to be learned.”
He left them after that.
Sasha hurried to the side where her cage butted against Jaron’s. He slumped to the floor far away from her, legs spread wide. For once she had no interest in checking out his cock.
“Jar-” She started to use his name then stopped.
“Fine.” The word slurred. He offered her a cocky smile, before his head swayed and he fell over, toppling to his side.
And Sasha could do nothing but stand and stare.
Chapter 8
Stretched out on the cold floor of his cell, Jaron contemplated his captivity. The days blended together and he lost a little of his hope more and more. No longer sure how much time he spent here, a growing disquiet spread through his gut. The possibility existed that The Collector discovered the tracker in his clothes or disposed of them to the point the locator was out of range. It happened—team members never found or discovered too late.
A simple glance around the room at the cages revealed signs of their captivity from sickly pallor in skin tones to loss of weight and a dimming in their gazes. Making their stay here worse, Dr. Kirkem healed them enough to keep them in decent condition to repeat the cycle over and over. Almost as if he didn’t want them damaged beyond use.
Trying to keep track of the testing was useless. Jaron barely remembered some of his more strenuous visits to the lab. What he did remember with unwanted clarity was the constant threats to the others the doctor made no matter how often Jaron agreed to his experiments.
Part of his oath dictated he protect the innocent and weak. Jaron wanted those in this room to walk out of here alive. But if he had to choose, there was one who Jaron needed to make it out more than the others.
“Jaron.”
He rolled to his back, arms folded behind his head. Sasha was up. “Yes?”
“What’s your family like?”
He risked a glanced to the side and Sasha imitated his pose, their elbows brushing if either of them shifted. Her question caught him off guard. Time here allowed Jaron a chance to learn a bit about of his fellow cell mates. Ari, the blue male alien, missed his life partner and young child. He’d been sold to Dr. Kirkem to pay a debt. Minu never spoke any more and concern if she’d make it taunted him each time she returned from the torture sessions.
Thinking of Luna left a sour taste in his mouth. The Earthling bartered anything for favor and didn’t care. It hadn’t earned her anything more than extra portions of food and two private showers a day instead of one, but she kept pushing. As much as he wished to care for her based on the other females from Earth in his life, he couldn’t.
That left Sasha. They talked about a lot of stuff but none of it as personal as the night he’d described his preferences for kisses. He assumed she’d wanted to create space between them. And it worked to a certain extent. Until now.
“My family?”
She shifted about and her fingers landed on the crease of his elbow closest to her. Electric shocks pulsed from the tip of her fingers and zinged through his chest. Lately, Sasha craved contact. He’d discovered that recently. It shouldn’t surprise him considering her nature. Arak constantly touched those on the team and now with his Chosen, Sylvie, benefited from the affectionate strokes.
“Yes, if it won’t bother you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
She was on edge. Maybe they all were. Regardless, Jaron talked. He spoke about his team mates whom he considered friends. He talked about his family. His maman and three younger sisters. His papan who liked to play pranks on all three of his girls. Jaron talked until he grew hoarse.
“Your family sounds nice,” she whispered when he ran out of things to say. At this point, she’d managed to curl up next to him. If not for the bars, she’d be on top of him, her warm weight a balm to his troubles. The Argoran kitten liked to snuggle, weakening Jaron’s resistance further.
“They are nice.”
Descendant from the original five families to settle on Enotia, his family held a lot of prestige on his home world but never let it go to their heads. Along with their bloodline and heritage came psychic gifts and neither of his parents made Jaron feel the loss of not showing a single ability. Not all families would have been as accepting of his lack considering their lineage for precog.
“What about your family?” He shifted the focus to her.
“I don’t have parents. Well, I did but they weren’t great.” She pointed at a thin scar he’d never noticed on the inner curve of her left thigh. “A gift from the man who sired me when I refused the friend he loaned me to for sex to repay a favor. I was seven.”
Anger coiled inside of him at the harsh treatment she’d suffered. His papan guarded his sisters like precious jewels.
Sasha pointed out another scar, deeper than the other, on her opposite hip. “I earned this beauty from my mother if you want to call her that. I didn’t move fast enough to get out of her way. I think I was sixteen, but it was enough. If I stayed longer I think they would have killed me, so I ran away as soon as I could and basically raised myself.”
No way he could ignore the pain underlying her admission. If Dr. Kirkem watched, he was going to see what they’d worked to hide. Jaron rolled to his side facing her and stretched his hands out to grab her under her arms. Their legs slid through the bars and she moved enough to rest her head on his upper arm. Comfort was all he could offer this woman.
If he gave her his sympathy she’d retreat. Kindness raised her defenses as nothing else could. Jaron squeezed her firm biceps. “I always knew one had to
be pretty tough to be a Bounty Retriever.”
Sasha nipped at his arm and Jaron released a belly laugh pretending to pull away. Her claws latched on as she laughed, dispelling the somber moment and he froze. It was the first time he heard the rich notes fully and not muffled as she often did. Her laugh was light and feminine with none of the brashness he expected.
He couldn’t fall for her. He had years of dedicating his life to being a Jutak warrior before he thought about presentation, the Enotian commitment ceremony.
“Bounty Retrievers are just as tough as Jutaks.”
He grunted in doubt. “When we get out of here we’ll put that to the test. My Unit Leader recently had an outdoor training course designed. We’ll see how tough you are then.”
She nuzzled into him, a purr escaping. “You’re pretty certain we’re getting out, huh?”
He rested his chin on the top of her black curls. She smelled sweet, the harsh cleanser unable to dispel or rid her of her natural scent. “Absolutely. Torkel isn’t one to leave a man behind.”
“Nice to have people you can trust and count on.”
Late night talks had revealed that another Bounty Retriever had turned Sasha in to Dr. Kirkem. From the tone she used when discussing it, the betrayal burned. Jaron didn’t have the name, but he planned to help her find him. “You have me, Sasha.”
She stayed silent but when she spoke next his breath caught. “I want to believe you, Jaron.”
***
Sasha tensed awaiting his reaction. Baring a part of her soul went against all of her self-taught survival skills. Trusting others meant opening yourself to betrayal. She had enough of that to last a life time. Yet something about this Jutak warrior tugged at her. Slick as a blade of grass, he broke through her defenses.
“You can.”
As always Jaron surprised her. Instead of teasing or boasting, he continued to stroke her arm, fingers dancing lightly over her skin, his chin brushing the side of her head occasionally. Cuddling. If someone told her how wonderful it felt to cuddle, she might not have kept to herself for as long as she had. Every time Jaron caressed her, it fed her ingrained desire for touch. She’d memorized the scent of him, the husky pleasant aroma beneath the harsh cleanser.
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