Courtesans and Lovers (The Space Courtesans Saga Book 2)

by Cheri Chaise

  But even in my horror at her appearance, I remained aware enough to detect a continued fighting spirit. The spirit of a woman that hadn’t yet been fully broken. A woman fighting with a purpose far greater than the pain and humiliation Sir Kranst had inflicted on her.

  And as she stopped momentarily at the locked door to rest her forehead against it, I knew immediately the reasoning behind why she stayed.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “This was the only locked doorway that I was able to ascertain. The servant stated it led to the third floor and his private collection.”

  “Private collection, my ass,” Jace muttered.

  “My thoughts as well,” I returned.

  My mech tech tapped the console display and zoomed in on the stilled image, then moved and manipulated the vidfeed from my jeweled headdress while he studied the second floor balcony from all angles. The bridge was silent as he worked.

  I’d thought it best that Rylan remain sequestered in Jace’s old pod while we went through such delicate information. If she had any inkling of where her sister might be, little doubt remained that impatience would have her off the ship and into the cold night, ruining any chance at surprise. And likely getting her arrested.

  Or worse.

  Jace rubbed his stubbled chin. “Are you absolutely sure he’s got them stashed in his personal space instead of somewhere else around the brothel?”

  “It makes the most sense. From what I could tell, the brothel portion is pretty much accessible to everyone…girls and guests alike. It’s only this wing that is closed off with security that would rival the royal palace.”

  He studied the upper floor some more before splitting the screen into four quadrants. Two of the images were of the outside entryways in the front and rear. Another was of the double doors leading into Sir Kranst’s personal quarters.

  I interrupted his studious silence. “Getting through this first door lock will be your biggest hurdle.”

  “Door locks aren’t a problem,” he scoffed. “Double doors make it that much easier.”

  I should’ve known. He’d gotten around plenty of my ship’s security when I’d hired him on Port Flint to fix my climate controls. When it came to locked doors, little got in the way of my mech tech’s capabilities.

  He split the display further to highlight the interior. “It’s the laser grid on the other side and all of the surveillance scattered around that open foyer that’ll be the problem.”

  I looked closer at the images on the console. “What surveillance? I don’t remember seeing anything.”

  His hands moved rapidly around the console, starting and stopping vidfeeds and bisecting the display even further until joining them together to form an entire room like piecing together a puzzle. Then he zoomed in on multiple points around the gilded balustrades of the second floor.

  “Cameras here, here. Here and here.” His finger traced as he spoke. “Laser weapons there and there.” He tilted the picture up toward the domed waterfall. “And I’m pretty sure that’s gonna spring a plasma cage on any unwelcome intruders.”

  “A plasma cage?”

  “Yup. Guaranteed to fry the unsuspecting to a cozy crisp worthy of the Crown Prince’s breakfast table.”

  I smacked a firm bicep. “That’s disgusting.”

  “But true.” He spun in the chair to offer up a satisfied smirk. “I’m thoroughly jealous. This Kranst guy has spared no expense for his security.”

  I reviewed the images again, paying particular attention to the areas he’d pointed out. But all I saw was a beautiful stairwell climbing to gold-infused railings and a rainbow of color shimmering beneath the dome.

  “How can you tell?”

  Jace crossed his arms over his broad chest. “One of the first classes in the Academy is detecting and evaluating enemy weaponry.”

  I sighed. Wasn’t this the third or fourth first class of the Academy by now? “Please tell me you’re not still trying to sell me on your supposed military training.”

  The grin tempered just a bit. A furrow in his brow appeared. Then deepened. “Why are you always so quick to dismiss my attendance at the Academy?” A glance at the closed bridge door sent his voice lower. “Yet you so readily believed me when I denied the charges that landed me in enforcement detention.”

  “I already told you why I believed you weren’t guilty of that crime.” I hedged. How to explain something I didn’t fully understand? I decided to go with the tried and true. “As far as the Academy, it’s as simple as the fact that you aren’t a noble.”

  Lips thinned with a clench of his jaw before hands encircled my waist. He plunked me right down on his lap to feel the hardness of his need.

  “That’s okay.” Warm lips nuzzled my neck as he breathed me in. “I’m just glad you believe I’m not a sick fucker.”

  “Well…”

  The joking tone immediately died on my lips as he sucked in a breath as if anticipating my response – and he wasn’t going to like it. Something different nestled in his stare as I pulled away and traced the furrows that softened under my fingertips. Eyes drifted closed as I leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. Then each eyelid. I hovered over his mouth in anticipation as his hands tightened around my waist.

  Until BIP’s tone interrupted us. “Dahlia, there is an incoming holomessage.”

  Jace’s glittering eyes popped open. “A holomessage? Who would…?”

  I quickly scooted off of his lap. “Hold response, BIP.”

  “It is tagged for your eyes only with highest urgency.”

  “Wait a minute. Response?” He lurched up to hover over me. “You sent a holomessage from all the way out here?”

  “Yes,” I said, ushering him toward the bridge door. “Now go wait for me in my pod.”

  “Our pod.”

  “Stop worrying about semantics and get out so I can take this.”

  He stood in the doorway, hands pressed against the sides to keep the door from sliding closed. “What’s the origination point, BIP?”

  “Ignore that…” But I was too late.

  “Origination point is the royal transport starship Lion,” BIP intoned. “His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Irik.”

  I was really getting tired of my AI deferring to my mech tech, even if he was the one always rooting around her mainframe.

  Green eyes darkened as they connected with mine. “Do you have any idea what this means?”

  I nodded, only too painfully aware.

  “Holomessages can be hacked. Easily traced between ships if someone knows what they’re doing…someone with even the most rudimentary skills.” Those full lips thinned in frustration. “Especially the fucking response.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “He’s pretty much sent out a homing beacon to every pirate in the galaxy. And out here on the Rim?” He held his arms open wide as if to measure the vastness of space. “They’ll want more than a king’s ransom.”

  “The Empire eradicated pirating cycles ago.” Or so I had to believe.

  He scoffed, grabbing my arms as if I needed a shake to put some sense into me. “The Galactic Council doesn’t have a clue what goes on out here.”

  “We’ll discuss this later,” I said, pushing against his hard chest. “Just go.”

  His stare lasted a heartbeat longer. Then he removed his hands and stalked away down the passageway.

  The door shut with a thunk like a wedge shoved between us. BIP engaged the hardlock on my command, and I once again stood before the panel as it slowly opened.

  I took a deep breath and checked my placement. “Play holomessage.”

  “Holomessage commencing.”

  Tears filled my eyes when a three-dimensional image of my love sprang to life in front of me. If not for the monochromatic imagery, I’d have sworn he stood before me in more than an ethereal form.

  As the message played out, I couldn’t stop tracing my fingers through the pinpricks of blue light where the planes of his ch
eek hovered. The dark hair I once ran my fingers through, until fisting the strands in sweet agony as he brought me to climax. The regal neck where my head once nestled and fit so perfectly. Strong arms that had held me tight in safety and security. His broad shoulders – that were uncharacteristically slumped.

  His hands moved to stroke me in return. Even though I knew he only touched the image I’d previously sent him, I reveled in the memories of the last time we’d been together in both body and not just spirit.

  But with each trace of fingertips, instead of bodily warmth only a cold mist greeted. A mist that reminded me of that day long ago when we’d hidden on the rocks behind the falls. The last time we’d made love.

  The day my heart shattered irrevocably.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The main salon of the brothel closed in very quickly when the girls saw Jace walk through the door the following afternoon. Chairs scraped along the floor as they scooted closer, while others abandoned their posts entirely to sit up front on the rug.

  Even with the facial overlay modifying his features, those emerald eyes that remained could draw in anyone with even a blur of vision.

  Gasps and titters of delight rippled through the room when he removed the silk button up shirt Trina had loaned him from one of her guards. I couldn’t have the mech tech ripping one of his tees over his head and risk disrupting the digitized image, no matter how certain he was of his technological prowess.

  But it was when he dropped the trousers that a heated hush fell over them. I had to stop the eye roll that wanted to reveal itself as the murmuring started. I’d already told Jace we were only going to focus on the upper torso in a brief demonstration of the cleansing ceremony.

  But Jace being Jace, he relished in showing off the length and breadth of the cock I’d enjoyed so many times. I almost pitied them that they could only imagine what it looked like when not flaccid – until Avn drew my notice.

  I wanted to feel sorry for her after what had happened yesterday. But it was the careful purse of her lips and slow, sensual grin that stretched the swollen side of her mouth that sent a shock of emotion coursing through my veins.

  Jealousy.

  Instead of supine like we’d planned, Jace laid face down, confident of his technological prowess. I covered his ass with a towel to hide my nerves and used the moment to instruct the girls in the importance of protecting the client’s dignity. Hard to do when the client displayed absolutely no understanding of the concept of modesty.

  Before I was through with the demonstration, more than one young lady had moaned in orgasmic thrall. And when I instructed them to pair up and practice the massage movements on one another, several ripped their blouses off to reveal plenty of bosom before I could tell them otherwise.

  I gathered up Jace’s clothes, stuffed them into one of the bags I’d brought, and handed him the towel to wrap around his waist before herding him over to the blond servant. “Would you show him a nearby wash unit where he could clean up?”

  She curtseyed. “Certainly, Mistress Dahlia.”

  My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I watched my mech tech stroll away as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Knowing the plan was now in motion. Knowing it all rested with him.

  Knowing it might be the last time I ever laid eyes on my mech tech.

  My Jace.

  The reminder of what I’d once called Irik whispered through my mind – my prince. I quickly convinced myself that I referred to Jace in such a way merely out of concern for his wellbeing.

  But it took every ounce of my courtesan training to maintain my composure over the next few hours. To still the trembling in my hands and focus on keeping the shimmy from my voice as I counted down Jace’s steps and reviewed the planned movements in my head.

  I breathed a little deeper after that first hour when I realized the mech tech had most likely made it safely through the double doors. The second hour when no alarms sounded to indicate the security features had spotted or captured him. Or worse – fried him to a crisp in that plasma cage.

  I was never so happy to see Sir Kranst as when he strolled in to escort me away for refreshment in his study.

  Until a flicker along the far wall revealed Jace hadn’t yet finished his task.

  My eyes widened when the idiot smiled and waved nonchalantly, as if this subterfuge was something we planned every day. I was momentarily flabbergasted as the split-second hitch in the overlay fell back in place and concealed the mech tech once again.

  Sir Kranst stopped in front of me with the payment scanner and started to pivot when he noticed my expression. There was only one option available to cover up my nerves and the inability to school my expression. I grasped my stomach and swayed in a mock swoon.

  Sir Kranst dropped the scanner with a clatter and grasped my arm as I fell against him. “Dahlia, are you alright?”

  He dragged me to the settee and squatted before my drooped form as I collapsed into the chair. “I feel…oh…”

  A clammy palm tentatively touched my cheek. “Have you caught the sickness?”

  The ailment among those of the common whoring profession rarely ever touched those of the Courtesan Court, thanks to the tea tree oil. Its natural disinfection properties, when properly applied, ensured more than simply a pleasurable joining experience.

  If Sir Kranst had been present and listened to even ten minutes of my discussion on the cleansing ceremony, he’d have never concerned himself with such a conclusion as the sickness.

  Of course what he didn’t know might actually benefit my purposes.

  I pressed a trembling hand to my forehead. “I…I don’t think so.”

  He rushed from the study, his shoes clacking across the expanse of the foyer before he threw open the double doors. In moments Trina’s guards were at my side, two sets of arms lifting me between them as Sir Kranst held open the study door, afraid to even breathe the same air now.

  The blond servant met us in the foyer and directed us down the back hallway to the rear private entrance, ushering us along to a waiting hovercarriage buffeted by the wind and swirling snow.

  “You will advise me as to her condition?” I heard Sir Kranst ask one of my guards.

  “Certainly, sir,” he responded before climbing inside.

  The other guards piled in from the other side, and we were off. The loss of a tiny bit of tea tree oil and a few towels were a small price to pay as I mentally waved goodbye to the brothel for the last time.

  My eyes snapped fully open as I turned to the third guard who looked mysteriously like a twin of the other. “The servant?” I smacked his chest. “What were you thinking? The real one could’ve come around the corner at any moment.”

  A familiar grin oozed across the face before the overlay blinked out to reveal my mech tech in all his smug glory. He practically dripped of bits and bobs that had modified not only his facial features but clothing as well.

  He tapped his temple. “It’s called thinking on the fly.” He unhooked a couple of buttons and slid off a cable wrapped around his chest before tossing me a wink. “And being prepared for the unexpected.”

  “And I suppose that’s yet another thing they taught you first at the Academy?” I mocked in good humor.

  “Yup.” He scrunched up his features in contemplation. “Plus, I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be a woman.”

  All the stress and anxiety had built up to this moment. The bundle of nerves it had created fled from me in an uproarious laugh that rolled deep from my belly. “You and your tech.”

  Jace leaned against the cushioned conveyance seats, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. “I’ll bet we could find another interesting use for this tech in your sanctuary.”

  “Oh no. Don’t you dare!”

  “That redhead comes to mind.”

  A snort escaped one of Trina’s guards, who attempted to cover it up with a cough.

  Men and their fantasies.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine


  The resultant raid on the brothel followed quickly on our heels after Trina approached the chief enforcement officer with the falsified evidence against him that Jace had recovered from Sir Kranst’s files. With his own blackmail out of the picture, the chief was more than happy to execute the warrant.

  Most of the other files my mech tech had simply deleted and wiped clean, including the ones of him. A few horrifying others he’d left intact, as the images were all-too obviously not mockups utilized merely for blackmail purposes. Apparently that realization and decision-making was what had delayed his escape from the study, though in hindsight I couldn’t have planned our exit any better.

  The locked door to the third floor in Sir Kranst’s personal quarters indeed led to a private collection. As suspected, the enclosed staircase went up to a self-contained, secure room where authorities discovered not just two or three young girls.

  They found twenty-three.

  One even had lovely, long red hair – and had an attitude that reminded me of a certain woman in the brothel’s employ. DNA tests confirmed the child was Avn’s daughter, who shed more than a few tears when they were permanently reunited.

  It didn’t take long for the other news to come out. Sir Kranst had been taking the unexpected arrivals from his working girls and selling some of them through various channels around the galaxy. The others he’d kept as leverage against those who worked for him – and placed them in the keeping of his most trusted servants. Women who, as I’d suspected, were too old to continue in the trade of whoring, but still maintained a twisted affection for their despicable lover.

  But that didn’t explain how he’d come to have the ones like Rylan’s sister.

  Dark forces were at work out here on the Rim, and I was determined to do everything in my power to put a stop to this horrific trade in human flesh.

  Trina and I stood aside and watched the reunification of the sisters from the doorway of my sanctuary. Neither of us tried to stop the shedding of tears that had gathered in our eyes in anticipation of this moment.