by Tana Stone
Vrax wanted to glance behind him at the ship. Tori was probably still on board, waiting to slip out after the crew had left. He knew she was coming after him, but his stomach clenched as he moved farther away from her. The female may not think she needed his protection, but that did not mean she was right. As soon as he was free, he was going to make sure she did not take any more foolish chances.
Once they’d passed through the gate and into the city, Vrax could see the maze of streets that extended out and up the hill toward a towering building at the top. Aliens of all description teemed around him, and it was easy to detect that most were outlaws or mercenaries. Vrax could feel the festering swirl of deception, lust, and greed surrounding him, and he tried to block it from his mind before it choked him.
A loud, undulating wail cut through the air, as a line of females, barely dressed in the sheerest fabrics, were led past them, a heady scent of spices wafting behind them. A tall creature waved them along, snapping his fingers and barking orders. Vrax felt a surge of desire from the males around him.
Mourad turned, his face florid and a vein throbbing in his neck. “Take him to the slave market without me.” His black eyes glittered with malice. “Don’t even think of keeping any of the money for yourselves. I’ll hear what you got for him.”
After the captain had barreled after the females, the crew let out dark laughter and muttered comments about the Gorglik emptying his balls into the whores until they couldn’t walk. Vrax knew the bounty hunters were vile creatures, but hearing them speak of females like they were not creatures to cherish and protect made him want to remove their teeth with his fists.
As they wound their way through the twisting, narrow passageways—the streets turning into alleys that sloped down and then climbed back up, light fighting to reach the dark recesses where creatures slumped in doorways and females stared at him from beneath glittering veils—Vrax became more nervous. He hadn’t seen any sign of Tori. Had she made it off the ship, or had she been found trying to escape? He’d never be able to live with himself if she ended up in the brig, or worse, sold alongside him as a slave.
Her plan was too dangerous, he thought. One female taking on all these armed males? Even if his arms weren’t tied behind his back, they would be outnumbered. He never should have agreed to it. Not that she gave him a choice. He huffed out a breath. The female never listened to him. It was maddening. He did not know how K’alvek handled his female, who seemed nearly as difficult as Tori.
Another jab between the shoulder blades propelled him out of an alley and into an open, circular area. The towering structure that had seemed so far away when they’d been standing at the city gate now rose up at the far end, towers protruding from the top, and balconies jutting out to overlook the city. The only thing he’d ever seen close to this were the walls of the Crestek city, and those hadn’t risen half as high.
Below the imposing structure sat a raised stage—a crowd gathered in front, as aliens were paraded across. Vrax’s fists clenched. This must be the slave market.
He tasted the bitter tang of bile as he watched a female with pale-blue skin and three breasts have her shirt ripped off her, while the announcer extolled her virtues and her virginity. The bidding went fast and high, and soon she was shuffled off to one side and taken away, weeping.
Vrax wondered how many of these aliens he could kill once he was free, and his gaze honed in on the rough creature pushing slaves across the stage and exposing them to the crowd below. That squat alien, with his meaty hands and rolls of fat beneath his chin, would be first.
“Let’s get this done,” one of Mourad’s men said, forcing him forward.
Vrax scoured the crowd for Tori. Wasn’t the plan to attack before he reached the slave market when they were walking the narrow streets? An attack now would mean taking on who knew how many additional fighters, not to mention the slavers who gathered around the stage. He twisted his hands behind him, but they were still bound tightly.
The spectators parted as he was moved toward the line of slaves to be auctioned, murmuring their approval at him. He was taller than any of the other slaves up for auction, his head easily rising above, not only the row of slaves, but also the guards and the crowd. If only he wasn’t being restrained with blasters pointed at him, he thought, thinking again how cowardly these weapons were.
The alien in front of Vrax turned and appraised him. “How big was the guy who caught you?”
Vrax sized him up as well—not quite at tall as him, dark-green skin, sinewy muscles, hairless, light eyes. He sensed no malice from the alien. “Not as large as his weapon.”
The alien nodded. “I wish for you a quick death, my friend.”
Vrax blinked a few times, not knowing what to say.
“Males like us usually end up in the fighting pits. Sometimes we fight each other. Sometimes we fight starving animals. Sometimes the animals like to feast on living flesh. A quick death is preferable to being eaten alive.”
Vrax’s heart pounded. Not even the Cresteks engaged in this type of entertainment. His longing for his home world threatened to overwhelm him, but he steeled himself. He was a Dothvek warrior, and he would fight to the end, even if his end came on this goddess-forsaken planet.
The line moved forward, and soon he watched the alien in front of him being led across the stage as spectators shouted numbers loudly. His head never dropped, but he stole a glance at Vrax before being dragged off the other side. If he’d understood correctly, the buyer had not been with the fighting pits. He hoped this meant the alien who had wished him a swift death was headed for a better fate.
“Bring up the barbarian,” the squat man on the stage called over, as Vrax was shoved up the stairs.
He hadn’t anticipated the roaring rage that he felt as he was pushed to the center of the platform and told to turn. The crowd cheered and shouted out numbers as his face burned. When he turned back around, he attempted to look over the leering faces of the crowd.
At the far end of the open space, he thought he spotted a glint of metal and dark curls. Tori! She was there, and she was pushing her way through the bodies. Then the crowd surged, a group of burly males appeared to block her way, and then she was gone. He searched desperately, his eyes scanning the place where he was sure she’d been. Nothing.
“Sold,” the announcer shouted, a measure of glee in his voice.
Vrax had been too preoccupied looking for Tori to hear how high the bidding had gone, or who had bought him. It was just as well he didn’t listen, he thought. If he was heading to the fighting pits to be eaten alive, he’d rather not know.
As he descended down the rickety stairs, he was greeted by a tall woman with hair so pale it reminded him of the suns when they burned white. She wore black, her long tresses a startling contrast to the form-fitting outfit that looked almost sculpted to her body and was mostly hidden under a long cloak. The smile she gave him didn’t reach her eyes.
“Yes,” she said, running a hand across his bare chest and back as she walked around him. “I think you’ll be worth every last credit.”
Vrax shivered, her touch making him go cold. He could sense that the female was powerful, and that she got whatever she wanted. And she wanted him.
Chapter Ten
Tori cursed as she ran through the city, dodging beggars with bony hands extended, and street performers swirling around, their colorful dresses belling out around their legs. The plan had been to follow Vrax off the ship, but she couldn’t very well drop down from the ducts while so many of the crew were milling about. She guessed injuring the crew badly enough that they preferred to stay on board instead of visiting the canteens might not have been the best idea.
She’d had to wait until everyone had either gone back to their racks or made their way off the ship before slipping out unnoticed and falling in behind an arriving mercenary crew from V’deen. The guards didn’t even glance her way as she passed through the gates behind a particularly large mercenary with
green hair to his waist. Once they’d cleared the gates, she’d peeled off and started running.
Even though she couldn’t see Vrax and the bounty hunters with him, she knew where they were headed. Her heart hammered in her chest as she thought about the slave market. It was where the scum of the sector came looking for creatures they deemed expendable. She doubted many of the slaves put on the block today would survive for long in their new lives.
She wished she had the fire power to blow a place like the Den of Thieves off the map, or at least take out the slave market. She’d had no reason to return to Kurril since she’d joined Danica’s crew, and seeing the miserable hell-hole again brought back memories she wished she could bury for good.
Pumping her arms, she pushed through the cramp in her side as the streets began to slant upward. She couldn’t be far now, and no way had Vrax moved as fast. If he was smart, he’d gone as slow as possible without attracting his captors’ ire.
Thinking about Vrax, she groaned. The Dothvek was impulsive and brave, but smart and strategic? She leapt over a pile of refuse scattered across the paving stones of a narrow alley, her heel slipping and almost sending her sprawling. She grabbed a heavyset man for balance.
“Watch it,” he yelled, as she stumbled away.
The tight streets became more crowded, and she knew she was nearing the market. She pushed her way through a slow-moving group of well-dressed women, ignoring their spluttered protests, and burst out into the open area.
It took her mere seconds to see that the setup was exactly like she remembered. The stage underneath the imposing building and the crowds of onlookers and buyers gathered around. She scanned the heads and quickly found Vrax to one side of the stage. His long, dark hair was easy to spot, since he was at least a head taller than every other alien.
Tori’s breath caught in her throat as she looked at his profile, his jaw clenched and his full lips pressed into a tight line. She knew she should be completely focused on saving his ass, but she was struck by how hot he was when he was angry. She felt a pulse of heat between her legs.
Not helping, she thought.
The alien in front of Vrax was led onto the stage, and he was moved onto the stairs. So much for getting him before he was sold. That plan was officially shot to hell.
“Come on, Tori,” she whispered to herself. “Plan B. There’s always a backup plan.”
She didn’t have any credits, so she couldn’t buy him, although she would have loved to have seen the expression on his face when she told him he was her property. So much for that.
Moving toward the stage, she cast her gaze at the guards flanking both sides. They were armed, as were the thugs milling around the outskirts of the crowd. She was a skilled fighter, but not good enough to beat them singlehandedly.
Tori saw that Vrax now stood on the stage, and her heart squeezed at the sight of him being ogled. She heard women cat-calling as he was forced to slowly turn around. She didn’t know what she could do, but she had to try something.
Pushing through the crush of people toward him, she only stopped when she slammed into a broad back and looked up.
Shit. The alien who pivoted to look down at her did not seem amused, and he did not look like the ‘forgive and forget’ type. No one in the crowd did.
“Look what we got here,” he said, and the two aliens on either side of him turned. They were both as beefy and menacing as him.
Double shit. She had a moment to decide whether to back down or go on the offensive. Since it was Kurril, she decided not to back down. Anyone who came to watch slaves being bought and sold would see any apology as a sign of weakness.
In a single swift motion, she lowered herself into a fighting stance and whipped the steel sticks from her hair, twirling them around until they were poised to strike. “You want to step aside?”
She heard cheering and suspected that meant Vrax had just been sold off to the highest bidder. She didn’t let her gaze falter as she glared at the aliens blocking her way.
“Those are pretty pins you got, girlie. Won’t do you much good against this.” He reached for a blaster, but his movements were sluggish. She darted her stick at his hand so quickly, it took him a moment to realize blood was spurting from it.
Clutching his wounded hand, he howled. His friends looked over at him, startled to see blood splattering the ground. It didn’t seem that any of the trio were fast on the uptake. Tori dodged around them as the crowd shifted away from the screaming—and now bleeding—alien.
She kept moving, jumping up to look over the heads toward the stage. Vrax had been moved off and the next slave had taken his place. She couldn’t see much around the stage, but she could no longer pick out his distinct hair. When she finally made it to the area where the slaves were taken by their new owners, Vrax was gone.
How had he left so quickly, and who had bought him? She knew there were a few fates for slaves sold on Kurril, and none of them were good.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the three aliens she’d pissed off. They were looking over the crowd, and she knew they were searching for her. Just great. She’d lost Vrax, and she had a bunch of assholes after her. What else was new?
Her gaze fell on the alien who’d been sold right before Vrax. He stood over to one side, a heavy-set man holding his chains and counting out some sort of alien currency she’d never seen, the coins square and shiny.
Tori sidled up to the captive, feeling a wave of pity for him. “Hey,” she whispered.
He started at her voice, glancing at his new owner before looking at her.
“You didn’t happen to see where the guy after you went, did you? The one with the bare chest and the marks around his—?”
“He was led away by a woman with almost-white hair,” the alien whispered back out of one side of his mouth.
“A woman?” It didn’t sound like he was headed to the fighting rings or life on a mercenary ship.
He nodded so slightly she almost missed it.
She met his eyes, her gut clenching at the fear she saw in them. “Thank you.” She looked down at his wrist irons. “I’m sorry.”
“I hope you save him,” the alien said, before being jerked away.
Tori realized her hands were shaking, and she wiped them down the front of her pants. A woman with white hair. She needed to find a woman with white hair. Or almost white, whatever that meant. How hard could that be?
Skirting around a cluster of slaves being herded into a cart, she spotted a boy with bare feet and a dirt-stained face. He was moving between people, his small hand darting into pouches and pockets so expertly she almost laughed.
If anyone knew what went on in the Den of Thieves, it would be someone like this boy. She suspected he was an expert in watching and listening, and he was just the person she needed.
Hooking her sticks back on her belt, Tori followed him until he’d reached the edge of the open courtyard. Then she grabbed him by the waist and clamped a hand over his mouth, ducking down an alleyway as he wriggled and attempted to bite her.
Once she’d gotten far enough away from the crowds that no one would hear him, she removed her hand from his mouth.
The boy craned his neck to peer up at her. “You’re not an enforcer.”
“No, but I saw you lighten the pockets of a lot of nasty folks out there who might want to show you how they feel about thieves.”
He shrugged, clearly unimpressed with her argument. “Everyone here’s a crook.”
He had a point. “Then how about this? I need you to give me some information.”
His brown eyes narrowed slightly. “You paying?”
“Sure,” she lied. “I’m paying. Now I need to know who the woman is with white hair who bought my friend.”
His eyes widened. “You’re friends with that big guy? The one who’s all gold, with the marks around his arms?”
“Yeah.” ‘Friends’ was close enough. “Now, do you know who bought him?”
He shook
his head slowly. “Your friend is gonna wish he got thrown in the fighting pits.”
“What?” She set him on the ground. “Why? Who is she?”
“Meridia.” He lowered his voice and looked over his shoulder. “She runs one of the houses.”
“Houses?”
The boy sighed, as if she were a simpleton. “You know.” He waggled an eyebrow. “Houses where you go if you want…”
“Oh! Pleasure houses?” That didn’t sound so bad. Better than the fighting pits, at least.
He bobbed his head up and down, his grimy cheeks coloring. “Except everyone knows Meridia likes it dark.”
“What does that mean?”
Another shrug. “It’s what I hear. You go to Meridia’s place if you want to do bad things to someone, or if you like bad things to be done to you. She’s got to keep buying new workers ’cause no one lasts real long doing what she makes them do.”
Tori put a hand to the rough stone wall of the nearest building. She knew Vrax would rather die in the fighting pits than be subjected to whatever sexual torture this Meridia had in mind for him.
“You know where Meridia’s house is?” she asked.
The boy gave a low whistle. “He must be a real good friend of yours. If you get caught trying to get him out, she’ll keep you, too.”
A little voice reminded her that she could leave, escape from Kurril, and make her way back to her crew. She rejected the thought almost the instant she had it. She might be a lot of things, but she was never a coward. And she never left a fellow warrior behind. As much of an obnoxious ass as Vrax was, she also knew he’d never leave her if the positions were reversed. “Then I won’t get caught.”
The boy studied her for a moment then waved his hand for her to follow him. “I’ll take you there, and I won’t even charge you extra.”
“Thanks.” Tori hurried along behind the kid as they weaved their way deeper into the city.
“Your friend looks like he’s some kind of god.”
Tori wasn’t so sure about that, although she guessed to the kid he must look pretty impressive.
