“This is Marc of Torin,” he began, and the man nodded.
Instead of commenting, the man on the screen looked to his side, then moved as another man appeared on the monitor.
“Trev of Kopah-Torl here. What can we do for you, Sir?” The man offered a congenial smile, his manner relaxed.
Marc watched while the landowner and successful farmer, who once dealt in a lucrative business of selling sex slaves on Poltar, relaxed in a comfortable-looking chair. He had charming good looks, the type of man that women would turn and give a second look to. Although the computer image didn’t offer perfection, Marc could tell the man was in good shape. But he guessed Trev of Kopah-Torl had never done a hard day’s labor in his life. Here was a man accustomed to giving orders, not taking them, and having others do his work for him. Marc didn’t like him.
“We are securing the area. I thought it would be best to make sure all landowners were properly protected.” Marc had no idea if Dree had spoken of him, or not.
Trent Dar watched him from across the table, no doubt wondering what he was about. Those dark eyes, which never blinked when concentrating, burrowed into him. Whether the Gren judged him or not, he kept Marc on his toes.
But damn it to all the hells, just looking at Trev of Kopah-Torl on the monitor made Marc’s blood boil. The urge to bully the man, push him to see what his breaking point was, coursed through Marc like a nasty poison. If he ever found out Trev had any sexual contact with Dree while she stayed there, he would kill the man.
“We appreciate your offer for protection.” Trev’s smooth tone got on Marc’s nerves. “But I think we are amply protected.”
“Our satellites have picked up several Bortan ships approaching Benox.”
Trent Dar leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Giving this man such information normally wouldn’t be a good move. One never knew where a man’s loyalties might lie. Marc looked over the monitor screen at the Gren.
“His home planet was destroyed by the surgically altered bastards,” he said, realizing he spoke through clenched teeth. He forced out a breath. “I doubt he has any loyalties to them.”
“I didn’t say a word.” The Gren mocked him. And he was the only man on this planet who could get away with talking to him like that.
Marc looked down at the screen in time to see Trev look off to the side. There were others in the room with the landowner, others who heard what Marc had just said. Trev had turned off his sound, and spoke to someone while Marc watched. Possibly his mate, Dree’s former mistress, was there with him. He imagined what he had just told Trev would have upset her.
Trev of Kopah-Torl looked his way, his hand moving as he enabled Marc to hear his words. “What did you have in mind?”
He had plenty in mind, searching the man’s grounds for one. Finding Dree and taking her with him were foremost on his mind. “I will stop by with a few of my men. In no way do we wish to alarm anyone, nor disturb the serenity of your land. I think a brief visit to discuss options in person would be best.”
Trev nodded, the chivalrous expression returning to his face. “We look forward to meeting you.”
The screen went blank. Marc wondered if Trev spoke on behalf of himself and his mate, or if the man was so pompous he referred to himself in the plural, the way royalty did.
He shut the porta-comm and then stood, moving back to the window.
“How many men do you want to join us?” Trent Dar asked.
“Form a small party, less than ten. I doubt we will run into any situations between here and there.” Marc didn’t turn around, and the Gren didn’t comment, just left the room quietly.
Marc knew he would need the time it took to fly to Kopah-Torl in order to calm down. Fire burned through his soul, the need to see Dree, have her back in his arms, and know why she had run from him. The woman had moved something inside him, stirred emotions he never knew that he had. And he wasn’t sure what he would do if he discovered she didn’t want to be with him.
His hands balled into fists, these new thoughts of her running away from him, and not from the attack, didn’t settle well at all. Somehow he would find her, talk to her, discover her thoughts.
Marc took a look around the room, barely seeing its contents. Nothing jumped out at him as an item that he needed to have, so he left the room, knowing it wouldn’t take the Gren long to prepare to leave.
He found Trent Dar giving instructions to a handful of warriors, all on gliders. They would travel light, their intention not to startle any of the farmers into thinking battle would occur on their land.
“Ready when you are,” he told Marc.
Marc climbed onto his waiting glider. “Let’s head out.” He took to the air quickly, more than ready to get to Kopah-Torl. He wanted in and out of that place, and to be headed home, with Dree with him.
The flight took well over an hour, which wasn’t enough time to soothe the growing fire burning within him. Anger brewed in his gut from the events occurring around them. And frustration plagued him, knowing he had to be on his best diplomatic standing with these landowners, but wanting nothing more than to march in there and demand Dree be turned over to him.
“We’re entering Kopah-Torl land,” Trent Dar told him through his headset.
Marc looked over at the Gren, the man’s dark features, as usual, impossible to read. It was important to ensure all land around Torin had no weak areas. King Sorale didn’t have a lick of sense about him. He would help the Bortan take over the planet, and not even realize he was doing it. So arriving here was completely justified.
“Take us up to the house. Unless stopped, I plan on walking through the front door.”
Trent Dar nodded, and lowered their elevation. The small group flew close to the ground, a sign of non-hostility, allowing themselves to be an easy target. Marc wasn’t worried about any aggression though. These people didn’t have the capability to harm them. He was confident that they had more weapons on their gliders alone than this farm probably had on its entire land.
A large home came into view, sprawled out with plush grounds surrounding it. There were several outbuildings, one of them appearing to be rather decent-looking servant quarters. That impressed him. He wouldn’t have pictured previous slave owners as being the kind to take care of hired help that well.
A stocky man walked around from the side of the house, noticed them, and stopped in the front of the house, adjusting a communication device over his head. Marc and the others landed, slowing to a stop in front of the man while he spoke into his mouthpiece, more than likely notifying Trev of Kopah-Torl of their arrival.
Marc parked his glider and climbed off, taking in his surroundings as he approached the man. “I’m Marc of Torin. Please let Trev know that we are here.”
“You’re expected.” The older man pulled his headset from his head and stuffed it in a back pocket. “Follow me,” he told them, squinting against the suns as he gave them all a curious look-over.
They probably didn’t have a lot of unknown visitors out this way. The serene setting, a comfortable landowner’s home surrounded by such plush vegetation, gave the place a utopian feeling about it.
A person could get mighty comfortable here.
Marc didn’t see anyone else outside the home, although he imagined the servants would be working in the field during the day. Crops were visible to the side of the house, the exotic fruit that made their coveted wine, growing in rows as far as the eye could see.
“My men can wait outside.” Marc offered a relaxed smile to the stocky, older man. “We don’t want to disrupt anyone’s home with the lot of us coming inside.”
The man returned the smile, his gaze sweeping over the warriors behind Marc. “I’ll see to it that they get a cold drink then.”
Marc nodded, and then glanced at Trent Dar, whom he knew would follow him inside whether he gestured for him to do so, or not.
They had just set foot inside the house, when a woman’s excited voice was eas
ily heard.
“What do you mean she has left?” The woman’s shrill tone made it apparent she was upset.
Another woman’s voice, not so easily heard, spoke hurriedly. But the first woman who spoke cut her off.
“She can’t just leave. There is no way she will survive with a war pending. This is terrible, just terrible.” The woman’s voice grew louder with each word.
Heavy footsteps sounded from another corner of the house. Marc and Trent stood inside the front door, the older man in front of them hesitating, as if he wasn’t sure what to do. A man’s voice, low and reassuring, drifted toward them, barely audible.
“I will not calm down. You don’t understand. She is part of Torl, like family to me.”
Her words hit Marc like a brick to his gut. How many women here were from Torl? And whoever they discussed had just left. He fought the urge to lunge forward, push the servant out of the way. The urge to demand to know who they spoke about swarmed through him with a vengeance.
“Now isn’t the time to discuss this.” The man speaking was Trev, at least he sounded like the man who’d spoken on the computer. “We have men arriving to determine if we are protected.”
“Obviously we aren’t if one small woman can walk away from here and no one stops her.” The woman had a point.
“She had her freedom. But we’ll discuss this later.” Again the man, who sounded like Trev, tried to silence her.
“Then it will be too late.” She sounded ready to burst into tears. “I thought we had bonded again. Damn it to all the hells, Trev, I brought her to you.”
Fire rushed through Marc so quickly he could barely stand still. What did she mean, she had brought the woman to him? Had Dree fucked Trev of Kopah-Torl? Would her ties to her old mistress still be so strong that she would do what the woman asked?
Marc clenched his fists, something dangerous and dark forming deep in his soul. No one had better lay a hand on Dree. No one.
“Maybe we should wait outside,” the Gren suggested.
The servant turned to face them, his expression showing his uncertainty. But Marc knew Trent Dar didn’t suggest they wait outside to be courteous. Marc was ready to destroy something, anger brewed in him ready to boil over. Trent Dar simply wanted him outside so he wouldn’t do something stupid.
They all turned when a man appeared at the end of the hallway, a woman behind him. She was obviously quite pregnant and held her hand over the bulge in her tummy.
“Welcome to Kopah-Torl,” the man extended his hands in greeting, that same boyish charm in his manner that he’d displayed on the computer. “I am Trev and this is my mate, Marla.”
Marc glanced at the extended hand, wanting more than anything to grab it and swing the man over his shoulder until he had him flat on the floor.
“I am Marc of Torin,” he heard himself say. But what he really wanted to say was, did you fuck Dree?
Chapter Thirteen
Dree couldn’t believe her eyes. Those were Marc of Torin’s men, she was sure of it. But what the hell were they doing here at Kopah-Torl?
Beads of perspiration formed along her back and between her breasts. She shoved her hair away from her face, standing alongside the apartments for the servants, the suns beating down on her with powerful rays. Her note would have been discovered by now, and she hadn’t even made it off of the grounds.
“What if Marc is here?” she asked herself, the urge to run and turn back toward the house warring inside her.
There was no way she could stay here though. It was bad enough with Borna. The woman blessed her with a kindness that wasn’t in her nature. Ever since she’d told Dree that she was Bortan, Dree hadn’t known how to act around the woman. Her heart raced anytime Borna came to her. Her dark seductive features didn’t remind Dree of a Bortan. But she hadn’t questioned what she’d been told and Borna offered no further explanation.
Besides, after last night, Borna was only a small concern. There was no way she could stay here after last night. Her stomach twisted into knots, the need to make a quick decision imperative. Everything inside her screamed to find Marc. If he had come for her, she wanted to be here for him.
But would Marc of Torin drive out to Kopah-Torl just to find her? Dree leaned against the side of the building, the suns making her terribly hot. She prayed in her heart that his feelings for her were as strong as those she felt for him. That he wanted her by his side, needed her with him just as badly as she craved him.
Footsteps cracked along the ground, to the side of the building toward the main house. “Dree!” Borna called for her, sounding angry. “Where in all the hells are you?”
Dree looked toward the men who lingered around their gliders out front of Trev and Marla’s. Several of them followed one of the servants. The gliders stood unattended. Marc would have her hide if she took off on one of his gliders. But if she went with him, she quite possibly would put him in jeopardy just as she had before. He had so much going for him, and she wouldn’t have him risking his ass because of her. Dree looked in the direction where she’d heard Borna. The woman had stopped to talk to the group of men.
There were no other choices. Running wouldn’t get her far away fast enough, and the distance she needed to travel was too great anyway. She darted the opposite direction from the house, disappearing around the back of the apartments and toward the back of the house. Most of the servants were still out in the field, or inside. Few people lingered outside during the day.
Coming up on the other side of the house, she edged around the front porch, delighted to find that the gliders sat unoccupied.
Dree blew out a breath, realizing she was shaking from nerves. Once or twice she had moved gliders at the castle, cleaning them and then flying them to the large garage where they were stored. Never had she flown a great distance on one.
Somehow knowing she took one of Marc’s gliders made her feel a bit more bonded to him. It was a strange thought, because she was stealing—plain and simple. Her heart constricted, weighing heavy in her chest. More than anything she wanted to see him, to feel his gaze on her, protective and full of compassion. She wanted to touch him, feel his strength, run her hands over those bulging muscles. Tears burned her eyes, the need for him so great it stole her breath. Her body ached for him—her soul ached for him.
Forcing herself to move, she put one foot in front of the other. Before she could talk herself out of her misdeed, she ran to the closest glider, straddled it, and stared down at the small dash, frantically trying to remember which buttons to push to start the damned thing.
“This is so stupid,” she chided herself, and pushed several buttons before the thing lurched to life underneath her.
She almost fell off. Gripping the handlebars, holding on for dear life, the thing took off across the field with more speed than she’d anticipated. Her stomach flip-flopped when it went airborne, the ground whizzing by underneath her in a blur. For a moment she thought she would be sick.
The speed at which she flew, and the humming of the motor underneath her, made it too hard to look behind her to see if she’d been noticed, or to hear if anyone yelled at her for her departure.
“You don’t even know where the fuck you are going.” The wind slapped at her bare skin, whipping her hair over her face.
Looking down at the small console, she dared to let go of one of the handlebars, wiping the water that burned at her eyes. She had no clue how to lower the dome on this thing, and with no eye protection she could barely see.
The glider swooped down, dangerously close to the ground.
Dree screamed. Fool! You’re a fucking fool.
She would get herself killed before she got captured. Loosening her grip on the other handle, the bike slowed drastically, again almost hitting the ground. One of the handlebars controlled the speed, and the other controlled the elevation. That small piece of knowledge did little to stop her thumping heart or prevent the painful lump in her stomach to stop growing.
How in the hell would she land this thing?
What was I thinking?
The ground continued to rush by underneath her, her mind speeding with panic and desperation at the same time. Marc had been willing to leave her before, when he started the attacks against the King, now he would completely despise her. It would seem obvious to him that she had little concern for his property when he realized she had stolen from him.
And to think for an insane moment she had thought it would bond her to him. All she could think about was getting away from Kopah-Torl, from her old mistress that she couldn’t say no to. And from a way of life she no longer wished to live. She hadn’t thought of how much Marc would hate her. And when she received confirmation of his hatred, she knew it would tear her in two.
She should turn around, do her best to get this glider back to Kopah-Torl and to Marc, and face the consequences of her crime.
And what would that accomplish?
No. For once she would move forward. What was done was done. Sooner or later stealing the glider would come back on her, haunt her, and she would be forced to pay for her crime. But maybe before that happened she could do some good.
For once she could make an appearance in decent clothing, clean and presentable, and on a quality glider. She had a laser with her that she sort of knew how to use. At least she could make a show of knowing how to use it. And even if she couldn’t fight worth a damn, she had taken enough blows over the past week to know how to fall and how to duck. She was better armed and prepared to help her people than she’d been since arriving on this planet. And if any of them were still alive, she would get them out of that castle, and away from that kingdom—somehow.
Her thoughts carried her over the countryside until small homes began appearing, scattered here and there, beneath her. She hadn’t been born yesterday. There were laws, regulations, on how and where a glider could be flown. But she would be damned if she knew what all of those laws were.
Lengorc lay ahead though, and she would be at the town soon. Somehow, she needed to land this thing, and manage to drive it on the ground through the town. Maybe someone here could give her an update on the status of the kingdom.
Sex Slaves 2: Waiting For Yesterday Page 14
