Torment

by Tana Stone

  She forced herself to look away from him and up into the stands. The aliens watching him had the same looks of awe on their faces. At least the men. The women looked like they wanted to fuck him.

  “Not on my watch,” she said under her breath, suppressing the burst of jealousy that rose like bile in her throat.

  When she looked back at Vrax, she saw that he was staring at her, his intense gaze almost enough to knock her off her feet. She tightened her grip on the barrier, willing herself not to leap over it. Not yet, at least.

  Another fighter appeared from a tunnel on the opposite side of the ring, and when she saw him, her shoulders unbunched. She didn’t know what species he was, although he was bipedal and didn’t appear to have any unusual features. With dark-green skin, the hairless creature was slighter than Vrax—not nearly as tall or broad.

  As Tori watched him approach Vrax with trepidation, she almost felt sympathy for him. Unless he had a poison tongue, darts that shot out of his ass, or some other secret weapon, this guy didn’t stand a chance. The crowd seemed to feel the same way, jeering him as he moved toward the center of the ring.

  Not surprisingly, Tori sensed that Vrax wasn’t afraid of this fighter. In fact, he seemed to be pleased to see him, his stance relaxing and his weapons dropping a bit.

  Don’t be a fool, Tori thought, clasping her hands. He could be tricking you.

  She’d seen plenty of unassuming warriors who’d turned out to be quite deadly, although this one didn’t seem to be much of a threat. Vrax said something to the other fighter that she couldn’t hear, and the creature gave an almost imperceptible nod before the two began to circle each other.

  She was so focused on Vrax and his opponent that she didn’t notice the aliens sidling up next to her until they’d clamped their hands around her arms.

  Tipping her head back, she looked from one alien to the other, her stomach dropping.

  Fuck me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Vrax recognized the alien who’d been in front of him at the slave market, he almost laughed. A sheen of sweat covered his bare chest, and Vrax could almost smell the fear rolling off him. He could certainly sense it, even if the creature’s hand holding a blade didn’t give him away with its tremble. The alien cocked his head to one side as he walked closer, his eyes finally flaring with recognition.

  “I am glad to see you are still alive,” Vrax said, his voice barely carrying over the din of the crowd. “Should we give them a good show?”

  The nod was slight, and the hint of a relieved smile reached no one but him. They circled each other a few times, Vrax directing him ever so subtly with flicks of his wrist. The dust kicked up from the ground and settled a fine layer over their bare feet.

  When he lunged forward, he let his opponent dodge to one side, asking as their heads passed, “What happens if you lose, my friend?”

  The alien flicked his gaze toward the tunnel he’d come from. “They send out the next one.”

  “You are not punished?” Vrax asked.

  “No more than usual.”

  “Roll left,” Vrax said out of the corner of his mouth, swiping his blades through the air and giving what he hoped was a menacing growl. The stands shook as the crowd jumped up and down, bellowing their approval.

  Vrax’s stomach clenched as he noticed the fresh scars on the creature’s back as he came out of the roll. No doubt made by a whip of some sort.

  “I fight for a share of the purse. Move to your right.” Vrax said, his blades slicing through the air when the alien had just been standing. “So my mate and I can escape from Kurril.”

  “I will help you. And if you defeat me, my owner will lose.” A grin quirked at the corners of his mouth. “That will be its own reward.”

  “You have my thanks,” Vrax said. “What is your name?”

  “Zarda. And you have mine for not killing me.”

  Vrax shrugged. “I do not kill those who don’t deserve it.”

  “You are right. You do not belong on Kurril.”

  Vrax motioned him to come at him. “Slash at me with your blade. I will dodge to the right.”

  Zarda did, and Vrax threw himself to the side right before the blade cut through the air next to him. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Vrax thought how fickle they were.

  He decided to show them just what a barbarian he was, bending low and putting his weapons down as he pounded his hands on the hard packed dirt. The crowd responded, and the resulting screams made the earth vibrate.

  Zarda charged at him and Vrax scooped up his blades, spinning around and slashing the air. More wild cheers.

  Vrax glanced over at Tori, but couldn’t spot her over the chaos of the crowd. He’d had to close his mind off since the thrum of the crowd’s emotions was overwhelming. She’d seen him fight enough that she would know he was staging an act for the spectators.

  He turned his attention back to the fight. “You should land a blow. Not with the blade.”

  Zarda barreled toward him, slashing and missing on purpose, but hitting an open palm against his stomach.

  Vrax bent over, exaggerating the hit and staggering. The crowd gasped and then yelled their approval when he straightened and ran at Zarda. He tackled the alien, but spun him around so that he took the brunt of the fall. Hooking his arms around Zarda’s waist from behind, he whispered, “Act as if the pain is immense.”

  Zarda did as instructed, doubling over and clawing at Vrax’s hands as he wailed in agony. The two rolled around on the ground for a while, until Vrax said, “When I put you in a head lock, you should pretend to black out.”

  “I wish you luck on your escape,” Zarda said, as Vrax looped one arm under his chin and pretended to squeeze.

  When he lolled his head to one side, Vrax rolled him to the ground and leapt up, pounding his fists on his chest and causing the spectators to thunder their pleasure.

  Zarda was quickly retrieved, his limp body carried out by two attendants who looked terrified to be in the arena with Vrax. Before he had time to savor the victory for more than a moment, another fighter burst out of the tunnel.

  This one he didn’t recognize, and this one was not afraid. He was almost as tall as Vrax, with dark-purple skin that appeared to be covered with raised bumps. He wore only a ragged pair of brown pants, and his bare chest was a wall of muscle.

  The creature ran at Vrax, and he barely dodged a blow from a massive fist. So the first fighter was just a warm up for the real warriors, he thought, pivoting quickly before his opponent could make a second run.

  Getting into his fighting stance, he sized up the alien. He was definitely huge, but his movements weren’t fast, and already his breathing sounded labored. Clearly, this guy didn’t grow up running up and down sand dunes under the heat of two suns.

  I just have to tire him out, Vrax told himself. Run him around. Keep him moving. Then I can take him down.

  The big alien seemed happy to oblige, running at him again, his face contorted in rage. He swung and Vrax dove for the ground, somersaulting away and jumping to his feet.

  The crowd screamed even louder than it had before, clearly thrilled by his opponent’s rage. Vrax forced himself not to absorb the creature’s fury, although his arms tingled with the urge to strike.

  The alien bared his teeth, which were as black as his gums. Vrax backed away, making the alien come after him and noticing that his pace had slowed even after only a few runs. Still, he didn’t want to wait for him to collapse.

  When he dodged the next punch, he twisted around and landed his own blow on the alien’s back. The creature stumbled forward, but Vrax’s palm burned.

  He stared down at his gold skin, now pink and blistered. His heart raced. Was this alien’s skin toxic? That changed things.

  Looking back up, he growled at the creature, and it was no longer an act. He needed to win this fight without burning the flesh off his body.

  Backing up, Vrax forced the alien to run at him again. This time h
e’d moved close enough to the barrier with the crowd that when he leapt out of the way at the last moment, the alien’s foreword momentum caused him to slam into the half wall with a loud thud.

  He jogged backward to the other side of the arena as the creature rubbed his gut and shook his head. He hoped he was as stupid as he looked and would do the same thing again.

  As if on cue, the burly creature lumbered toward him, his face set in furious determination. At the last possible moment, Vrax dove aside and listened to the crunch of his opponent hitting the barrier.

  By now, the crowd was alternately booing and cheering. Vrax knew he needed to end things. He pulled off the fur draped across one shoulder and ran forward as the creature was staggering away from the side. Wrapping his bare skin in the fur, he tackled him and pinned his arms to his side. The alien flailed, but his attempts were sluggish and weak.

  Vrax head butted him, his forehead tingling from the contact with the bare skin, but he continued until his opponent lay still beneath him. When he jumped up, he fought the urge to put a hand to the burning skin on his head.

  Peering up at the promoters’ box, he saw the three men who’d hired him on their feet and cheering wildly. He sliced a hand across his neck to indicate that he was done fighting.

  Turning to the stands, he searched for Tori. The spot where she’d been standing at the start of the fights was empty. He scanned the nearby area and then the tunnel they’d walked out from. Panic fluttered in his stomach. She would not leave him. Not after everything. Would she?

  Despite the mania of the crowd, he reached out his mind to find her. At first, there was nothing. She must be farther away than the stadium for him not to sense her easily. Then he picked up the faintest flicker of her, and his skin went cold.

  Fear. Wherever Tori was, she was terrified.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tori swallowed, the metallic tang of blood sharp in her throat. Her vision was blurry as she opened her eyes and peered through the darkness. Where was she?

  Straining her arms, she realized they were fastened over her head, the rope biting into her wrists. The last thing she remembered was watching Vrax in the fighting ring. The crowd had been so loud and raucous that she’d barely been aware of anyone approaching her, much less the two guys who’d flanked her and grabbed her arms.

  She shook her head to try to clear some of the fog in her brain. They’d jabbed her with something, the prick in her neck making everything go black before she could cry out.

  The smile. She shivered, remembering one of the guys giving her a menacing grin before her eyes had fluttered shut. A guy she recognized. One of D’Vos’ thugs, and her old crew mates.

  “Fuck,” she whispered, yanking on the restraints again. She didn’t know where she was, but if D’Vos had her, it wasn’t good.

  As her eyes adjusted to the low lighting, she could make out dark, stone walls that looked almost shiny. Wet, she thought, noticing the damp against her back. She was somewhere underground. That would explain the moldy smell, and the cool air. In one corner she spotted a stack of crates, suggesting she was somewhere not usually used for holding people captive.

  There didn’t seem to be a door anywhere, just a staircase spiraling down from above and ending in the room. Definitely a basement, but since there were no bars or cell doors, it didn’t appear to be a dungeon. There wasn’t a sound, save her own breathing and the loud thumping of her heart. She was definitely all alone. She didn’t know if she should be grateful for that or not.

  She thought about Vrax again, feeling unwanted tears spring to her eyes. Did he know she’d been taken? She doubted he saw it since he’d been in the middle of a fight, but had he sensed it? For once, she didn’t resent his ability to pick up on her feelings, although she could no longer sense his. Was she too far away, or did it mean something else? Was it possible he didn’t survive the fights?

  Tori gave her head a hard shake, making it ache from the movement. No, she refused to let herself think that. He was okay. He had to be okay. And knowing what a stubborn pain in the ass he was, Vrax was looking for her now.

  The thought gave her some comfort, even though she didn’t know how he’d find her if she was locked underground somewhere. It wasn’t like his empathic skills could be used to home in on her position, could they?

  Before she could wonder further about how Dothvek mental abilities worked, there was a creak overhead. Tori held her breath as a door opened, and heavy footsteps descended the stairs.

  D’Vos appeared at the bottom of the winding stairs, silhouetted in a shaft of light from above. His thick, black hair flowed over his shoulders and down his metal chest plate, but his arms were bare, the muscles sinewy.

  She pressed her lips together, fighting back a wave of nausea. She remembered all too well those arms holding her down as he’d rutted against her.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, his voice reverberating through the small room and making her shudder. “I thought you’d been smart enough to crawl under a rock somewhere so I’d never find you.”

  Tori bit back the retort she desperately wanted to make, knowing anything she said would only make things worse. And she knew very well how bad things were about to get.

  He took slow steps toward her, his gaze moving across her body as he licked his lips. “I guess I should be grateful to you. You’ve only made the pleasure greater. I like a female who fights back before I sink my cock into her.”

  “That’s because you’ve never had a woman voluntarily want to fuck you, asshole.” She knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t help it. Hearing him brag about raping women was too much.

  He paused in front of her and let out a deep rumble of laughter. “There’s the bitch who gave me such a nice souvenir.” He touched a finger to the raised scar running down one cheek. “I was afraid you might have gone soft on me.”

  “Not a chance,” she said, spitting out the words as she glared at him.

  D’Vos closed the remaining distance between them so quickly she sucked in a breath and leaned back, her head hitting the stone. “Good. It would break my heart if you didn’t scream while I fucked you to death.”

  Tori’s skin prickled with fear, but she didn’t drop her gaze. No way was she going to let him know how terrified she was, even though she felt her legs tremble. She focused all her energy on her rage instead, imagining all the ways she would kill him when she had the chance.

  “You’re the one who’s going to die, D’Vos. I hope one lay is worth losing your life over.”

  He smiled, leaning close and stroking the side of his hand down her hair. “Really? And who’s going to kill me? You?” His gaze flicked to her hands tied above her head. “The big brute you were with last night? I don’t think so.”

  Tori’s stomach tightened at the mention of Vrax, but she tried to not let on.

  “I’m afraid he isn’t an option,” D’Vos continued. “He fought a Lantherian and came out on the losing end, I’m sorry to say.”

  Tori bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming. She knew Lantherians had skin that was toxic, but Vrax wouldn’t know that. Had he really fought one after she’d been abducted?

  No, she told herself. D’Vos was lying. He had to be. Vrax couldn’t be dead. But if he was alive, why couldn’t she feel anything from him? Her heart pounded as the possibility hit her that the Dothvek might not be coming to save her.

  “That’s right,” D’Vos said, his hand drifting from her hair down the length of her neck. “Now you understand. No one can save you this time. It’s just you and me. Until I’m done and invite the rest of the crew down to have a turn.”

  Tori lunged at him, snapping her teeth at his fingers. The thought of Vrax being gone sent rage pounding through her veins, although she refused to believe it. That Dothvek bastard was too stubborn to die.

  D’Vos jumped back, shaking his head and chuckling. “Always the temper. You know, it’s my favorite thing about you. Your
lack of self-control. Not ideal in a subordinate, but perfect to fuck.”

  “Why not make it a fair fight, D’Vos?” she asked. “Untie me and you’ll have a real challenge.”

  “And get another scar?” His voice lost its jovial tone. “I don’t think so.” His arm shot out, pinning her neck against the wall. “The thing you hate most is not being in control. I promise that you won’t be in control of anything I do to you, you mouthy little bitch.”

  Tori tried to swallow, but his hand was crushing her windpipe. She gasped for breath, the sound coming from her throat thin and desperate. He relaxed his grip but did not remove his hand. Instead he kept her head pinned back as his other hand squeezed one of her breasts hard.

  She inhaled sharply, but didn’t cry out. She didn’t care what he did, she was not going to give him the satisfaction of her screams or her tears. Focusing on a spot over his head, she pressed her lips together and tried to think of anything but the Zevrian so close to her that she inhaled his foul stench with each shallow breath.

  Tori tried to open her mind to Vrax. She refused to believe he was dead. She just needed to send him her thoughts so he could find her, if his mind thing worked that way. She cursed herself, wishing she’d actually paid attention when he was going on about it.

  It didn’t matter. Vrax was alive, and he would come for her. He’d called her his mate, hadn’t he? The word, which usually made her curl her lips in revulsion, now gave her a rush of hope.

  D’Vos moved his hand roughly down her body, jamming it between her legs and making her flinch. He groped her without any finesse, his fingers thick and fumbling.

  “I hope you’re wet for me,” D’Vos said, “or this is really going to hurt.”

  She knew she wasn’t, but she didn’t make a sound. She just had to survive this so she could kill him.