by Devyn Quinn
Goosebumps dimpling her exposed flesh, Dakoda rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She glared at the Asian when he stepped in front of her. Man, she’d love a set of cougar’s claws right about now. All the better to scratch his eyes out, she thought.
A lascivious glint crept into Kamai’s gaze. Reaching out, he cupped her left breast. His thumb brushed the tip of her nipple, bringing it to instant erection.
Repulsed by his touch, Dakoda tasted the tang of burning acid at the back of her throat. Having taken two hard slaps, she wasn’t inclined to take a third. She allowed herself a sneer.
Kamai’s thumb slowly circled her areola. “Very responsive,” he said approvingly. “Does it make you wet when a man fondles your breasts?”
Forcing herself to silence, Dakoda stared straight through him. Kamai might have warned the outlaw against taking advantage of her. But as a buyer he might think himself well within his rights to liberally sample the merchandise.
She sent a glare his way. Drop dead, she mouthed silently.
Kamai ignored her. Like an equestrian inspecting a nice piece of horseflesh, his intrusive touch skidded over her rib cage, then across the flat plane of her belly. Dakoda barely managed to bite down on her scream as his hand pressed between her thighs. Cool, slender fingers located her clit, rubbing slow circles around the small hooded organ.
An unintended moan slipped past Dakoda’s lips. “Don’t,” she gasped hoarsely. “Please—”
A smile crossed the Asian’s pinched face. “Ah, she is very damp.” He probed, dipping a finger into her sex. “And very tight.”
Face burning hot, Dakoda barely heard the man’s comments. Just when she was sure she’d go screaming mad, his cold touch fell away. Grunting with disgust, she shifted uncomfortably to cover her exposed parts. She felt sick, diseased by his unwelcome invasion of her most private places.
Kamai nodded his approval. “She will suffice.” He turned toward Jesse. “Now the male.”
Barnett prodded Jesse. “You heard the man. Get naked.”
Mouth twisting with rage, Jesse said nothing as he stripped off the few pieces of clothes they’d allowed. As an act of defiance, he threw each piece toward Waylon Barnett, an expression of utter contempt on his face.
Refusing to cringe under scrutiny, Jesse pulled back his shoulders, standing exposed to everyone’s view. “Take a good look,” he snarled. “This is everything you’ll never be, you little bastard.”
Just as he’d inspected Dakoda, Kamai looked Jesse over from head to foot. Though he didn’t fondle, he did take note of Jesse’s flaccid penis. “Very impressive,” he stated with approval.
“Foreign fucker,” Jesse gritted under his breath.
Kamai immediately stiffened. Swatting Jesse with the crop, he laughed. “In my country,” he said, drawing out each word for emphasis. “You will be the foreigner.” Stepping back, he eyed them both. “The flesh is acceptable. Now I wish to see what makes these people so rare.”
With the stubbornness of a mule, Jesse shook his head. “No.”
Rusty, who had been standing silently behind them, lifted his rifle. “Don’t start actin’ up now, Jesse,” he warned. “Just do what the man asks.”
Jesse dug his heels in deeper than an unruly child on the first day of kindergarten. “What are you going to do?” he challenged. “Shoot me?” Given a fair hand-to-hand fight, there was no doubt he’d walk away the winner, but in these circumstances, resistance was futile. However sharp, a pair of claws had little chance against gunpowder and hot lead.
Rusty’s rifle moved to the right. “No,” he drawled around a mouthful of chewing tobacco. “I’ll shoot the woman.”
Dakoda almost wished he would.
Push came to shove, and someone had to retreat.
Realizing the ice he walked on was way too damn thin and getting thinner, Jesse grudgingly retreated. “Okay.” He held out his hands, rattling the cuffs circling his wrists. “Take them off.”
Barnett shook his head. “No way.”
Jesse insisted. “I can’t shift if anything distracts me.” He held out his hands again. “Take them off or nothing happens.”
Kamai tapped Barnett’s elbow with his crop. “Take them off,” he said amiably. “We want no distractions.”
Grumbling a string of curses under his breath, Barnett removed Jesse’s cuffs. “The collar stays on,” he warned. “You try to run and I’ll jerk that chain till you choke.”
Jesse ignored his warning. Dropping into a crouch, he opened his mouth and curled his lips back from his teeth. For about a minute he looked like a man doing a bad parody of a cat. Then something happened. His white, perfectly normal human teeth began to change, his incisors swelling into sharp fangs that extended as his jaws widened. At the same instant, his eyes narrowed, irises fading from deep black into an amber shade. Tiny coils of energy sparked and crackled in their depth. Seconds later he disappeared.
A huge man-sized cougar sat in his place. Though the animal’s eyes were all feline, the intelligence gleaming there was purely human.
Kamai looked down at the huge beast in wonder and amazement. “Fascinating.” He clapped his hands together. “I have heard all my life of the shifter races. But to see one with my own eyes…I shall tell my employer they will be well worth the price. He has been anxious to acquire a pair since seeing the one owned by Prince Abdul Marhala.”
Jesse quickly shifted back to human form, rearing up on his knees. “Three of our tribe have gone missing in the last year,” he hotly accused.
Kamai tapped him on the cheek with his crop. “That number will increase significantly, I am sure, once word gets out among collectors of the curious that a whole pack of shifters exists.” He looked to Dakoda. “But why should I pay for one that can’t shift?”
Jesse quickly shook his head. “She’s not one of us,” he lied in an obvious attempt to negate Dakoda’s worth. “That would make her a useless curio to your employer.” He pointed at his chest. “I’m the one you want.”
Kamai cut a look to Barnett. Slapping his crop against the palm of his hand, he frowned. “I told you I required at least two shifters. If she can’t change, I refuse to pay full price.”
Dakoda curled her lip in defiance. “Sorry. I can’t. Never have.” Though I wish I could, her mind echoed. She’d love to have a kick-ass set of claws and fangs to sink into some nice soft human flesh about now.
“That wasn’t the deal,” Barnett stammered, clearly in no place to bargain.
The expression on Kamai’s face hardened. “I’ll take her, but I won’t pay full price,” he snapped irritably.
Dakoda’s heart sank. After all, she was witness to not only the outlaws’ trafficking in human beings but also her own partner’s murder.
Freedom is a word I might as well strike out of my vocabulary, she thought. If push came to shove, she definitely preferred the idea of being a rich man’s pet, rather than a mangy outlaw’s fuck toy. Her mouth curved into a frown. At the very least, we’ll probably live in a nice cage and eat better meals.
Though he hastened to put a smile on his face, Willie Barnett wasn’t a happy man. “Just take her off our hands,” he grumbled. “We’ll go two for the price of one.”
Kamai started pacing, looking at the captives with an expression of chilling calculation. “I think that would be acceptable.” He slapped his crop sharply against his leg. “There are many possibilities for their entertainment value.”
“Good enough,” Barnett said. “We have a deal.”
Kamai smiled thinly. “Yes. We do.” Slipping his crop under his arm, he returned to the chair he’d occupied earlier. Elbows resting on the arms, he stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle as if readying himself for the show. “In the meantime, I am anxious to observe the mating rituals of these curiosities in captivity.” He flagged a hand toward Jesse. “Breed her.” He cocked his head, smiling with self-induced amusement at his suggestion. “In your animal form.”
Dakoda’s brows shot up. “Did you just say…” Her words were a splutter of disbelief. She wasn’t even sure that was physically possible.
And she damn sure didn’t want to test the theory.
13
Dakoda lay on her side, staring at the wall. Legs drawn up to her chest, she hugged them tightly, attempting to bring a sense of warmth back into her body. It wasn’t working. She was cold. So cold she doubted she’d ever get warm again.
Jesse pressed closer to her, attempting to add his body heat to hers. Hand settling on her shoulder, he bent close to her ear. “I’m sorry about what happened,” he murmured. “It was terrible, I know.”
Hearing his words, Dakoda squeezed her eyes shut. “That was humiliating,” she grated through clenched teeth. Though the images hovered at the edge of her mind, she refused to pull them out of the shadows and look. It was bad enough they’d been forced to strip naked for inspection. Worse still was being fondled like a piece of merchandise, her nude body invaded by an unwelcome hand. But the coup de grace had been Kamai’s demand that she and Jesse have sex—with Jesse in cougar form.
Bestiality. The word floated up from the dark morass bubbling in her skull, bringing with it a distinctly sour, sewer-like odor. She reeled at the thought of such a twisted and perverted thing happening between herself and an animal. Even if the animal was Jesse, it was still, well, wrong on so many levels.
And anyone who’d suggest such a thing was a sick psycho. Anyone who’d want to watch, sicker still.
There are a lot of sick people in this world, she thought. And she’d had the bad luck to run into all of them in the same place at the same time.
Dakoda opened her eyes, staring at the blank wall in front of her. They were back in the cell. Still prisoners, only their status had changed. The FOR SALE signs hanging around their necks had been changed. Sold. Kamai had purchased them both, paying over a million dollars to acquire his valuable prizes.
A storm rolling in from the north had prevented their immediate departure. Outside the cell, thunder rolled, breaking up the sound of rain beating against the roof. Flashes of lightning emanated through the spaces in the front wall, viciously striking the earth with an electrifying lash. It was night fit for neither man nor beast. Everyone was forced to hole up and wait out the worst.
Unwrapping her body, Dakoda stretched out and rolled over. “It’s okay.” She sighed in an attempt to relieve her inner tension. “Nothing happened.” She looked into Jesse’s face, tense and drawn with worry. “Thank you for not doing it.”
Palm settling against her cheek, Jesse’s agonized gaze found hers. “I really didn’t have much of a choice,” he breathed, brushing her mouth with his. “There was no way I could perform like a circus animal, on command.”
“You sure did piss them off.”
Jesse frowned. “Got my ass whipped for it, too.”
Dakoda grimaced, remembering the sound of Kamai’s crop coming down hard across Jesse’s exposed flesh. “How’s your back?”
Jesse flexed his shoulders. “Not so bad. I’ll survive. I won’t like it, but I’ll survive.”
She looked at him with admiration. Throughout his beating, Jesse had refused to cry out, forcing himself to silence as lash after brutal lash sliced into his skin. He’d borne the punishment of a disobedient animal with pride, refusing to be cowed by the cruel hand of control. “Kamai didn’t appreciate your defiance.”
Jesse glowered a moment. “It still didn’t stop him from buying us,” he said, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. “We’re still not any better off than we were. Once he gets us out of the country, we’re goners. Never to be seen or heard from again.”
Dakoda propped herself up on one elbow. “It happens all the time, though.”
Jesse shot her a frown. “You know, it’s hard to believe people can still be bought and sold like cattle in this day and age. What’s even harder to believe is that it’s happening to me.”
She considered his words. “Earlier you said three men from your tribe had disappeared.”
He nodded. “Yeah, vanished. Without a trace.”
“Kamai mentioned he had seen one of the shifters, belonging to a Saudi prince, I think he said.”
His frown returned, doubly fierce. “So what’s your point? They’re still gone, still captives.”
Dakoda pressed a hand on his chest. The thud-thud of his heart beat wildly beneath her palm. “It means they are still alive. And if they’re still alive, help can be sent.”
Considering her words, he nodded reluctantly. “We still have to get out of here ourselves,” he reminded her. “Seeing as we’re between the rock and the hard place, that’s unlikely to happen anytime soon.”
She had to agree. “Right now the odds are definitely against us.”
“Speaking of being hard and being against something…” Jesse snuggled closer until his partially clad body connected with her fully clothed one. “I have to admit I’m glad I’m not alone. I hate to say it, but it helps having somebody to hold on to. If that sounds stupid or selfish, I’m sorry.”
His confession echoed exactly what she’d been thinking.
Dakoda searched his gaze with hers. Her breasts pillowed against his chest, nipples instantly rising to hard little beads inside her snug bra. Heat bloomed between her thighs as she remembered the feel of his cock sliding into her eager depths. “It’s not stupid,” she said softly. “As much as I hate what’s happening, I’m glad you’re with me. I think I would have fallen apart and lost my mind if you hadn’t been here.”
His thumb brushed her lips. “You’re strong, Dakoda. A lot stronger than I am.”
Her brows rose in disbelief. She didn’t feel a bit strong or capable. She felt weak and scared and stupid. Having Jesse to hold on to had been like having a life preserver to cling to. “Oh?”
Jesse’s throat worked with emotion. “If it had just been me, on my own, I’d have killed myself for sure.” His palm left her cheek. Fingers slipping to the nape of her neck, he adjusted her head to a more pleasing angle. “As it is, you’ve given me a lot of other things to think about. Nice things…,” he murmured, sliding into a slow, wet kiss.
Oh, God, this was what she’d been needing…
Dakoda’s lips parted beneath his, eagerly welcoming the first invasive caress of his tongue against hers. Though in human form, Jesse tasted even more wild and feral than she remembered, like the untamed wilderness at midnight. The musk emanating from his bronzed skin was a richer, darker odor. The scent teased her nose, arousing her all over again.
God, how was it his slightest touch could turn her into a maniac, ravenous for sex? Every inch of his strong, burly frame pressed against hers, reminding her all over again of the delights of body-to-body contact.
The pressure of need built between them when his hand settled on her ass, dragging her hips closer to his. The brief breechclout he wore barely managed to cover his straining penis. All it would take is a tug at the thin leather ties to get it off. Then he’d have nothing on.
Nothing at all.
The plunk of a big fat drop of water jolted them apart.
Wiping his wet face, Jesse cursed. “Hey, what the hell?”
Cold droplets hit Dakoda on the face. Blinking up at the ceiling above their heads, she saw the beginnings of seepage. The damp planks were swollen and sagging from the deluge outside.
Wiping her face, she sat up. “Terrific. Just want I wanted to do, sleep in a wet bunk.” As if it already wasn’t miserable and cramped enough in the small cell. “Just one more thing to add to the discomfort,” she added, scooting out from under the splats of water.
Jesse abruptly slid off the bunk. “It might be our way out,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “Look.” He pointed. “See that?”
Dakoda tipped her head back, following his gesture. The ceiling had sprung a few more leaks, bringing in a steady stream of water. Anticipation zinged across her nerves. Maybe the light at the end of
the tunnel wasn’t the oncoming train after all. “I see it.”
Jesse headed toward the worst of the leaks, one near the table. “A solid roof doesn’t leak.” Climbing up on the table, he circled one of the exposed beams with his hands, then hefted himself up so he could examine the source closer. “The wood’s got some rot in it,” he reported with a note of satisfaction.
Realizing the implications, Dakoda scrambled off the bunk. “Is it rotted enough we can dig it out?” she asked excitedly. Now that a glimmer of hope had presented itself, she felt a surge of energy through her veins, a much-needed burst of adrenaline to clear her head and sharpen her senses.
This is our chance, she told herself.
Jesse was working more quickly now, trying to wiggle his fingers between the narrow planks so he could get a hold. “Damn.”
“What?” Dakoda moved up behind him, climbing onto one of the chairs to bring herself closer to the ceiling. She reached up, pressing the tips of her fingers against the damp wood. It gave a little. She pressed harder. “I can feel it giving way.”
Jesse’s hands dropped. “It’s wet enough, but the rot hasn’t gone all the way through. I need something sharp to gouge with, like a knife of something.”
Dakoda pressed her feet against the chair and flattened her palms against the ceiling. “Nothing sharp,” she grunted. “We’ll just have to try brute force.”
Jesse shook his head. “I’m a lot stronger than you, and I can’t push through.”
Suddenly Dakoda could feel it, the powerful blast of defeat slamming into her, reeking with despair and negativity. It’s no use, it whispered in her ear. Greg had no chance. What makes you think you deserve one?
Shutting out the nagging voices, she growled an obscene curse and went on pummeling at the damp planks above her head. “You’re not trying hard enough!” she snapped. “I don’t want to be sold into fucking slavery, no matter how nice the cage might be.” Bending her fingers, she dug her nails into the wood. A few small pieces of debris scattered across her face. She wiped them away with an angry hand. “If only I had some goddamned claws.”
