Torment

by Tana Stone

  His hand moved from her crotch and he tore at her shirt, finally ramming his hand underneath it. The contact of his calloused hands on her skin made her kick her legs out.

  Her boot made contact with one of his shins, and he yelped in pain. Tori’s rush of satisfaction was short-lived, as he quickly backhanded her, sending the side of her face into the stone wall.

  Son of a bitch. She spit out a mouthful of blood, hoping she hadn’t just also spit out a tooth.

  With a deadly growl, he was on her, pulling at her clothes and trying to get his hand down her pants. She gave up any pretense of being stoic and lashed out, kicking her legs and attempting to head butt him. She dodged another slap from the back of his hand, but he pressed his forearm across her neck and leaned his full weight against her.

  “I think you may have misunderstood me.” His breath came out in jagged pants. “This is going to happen whether you’re dead or alive. It doesn’t matter to me either way, so continue to struggle, if you want me to snap your neck.”

  Tori stopped flailing, her stomach sinking. She knew D’Vos was an asshole, but she hadn’t thought he’d go so far as to actually kill her. The pressure on her throat made her see black spots, and she went still.

  I can’t kill him if I’m dead, she told herself as he ground his cock against her. And Vrax can’t find me and get me out if I’m not alive.

  Tori knew two things for sure. Vrax would come for her, and she was definitely going to kill D’Vos.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You can’t stop now. Not when you’re winning.” The alien worked his bony hands as he paced in front of Vrax. The three promoters had intercepted him after he’d walked out of the stadium and into the tunnel, and now they gathered around him, faces pinched.

  “I’m done,” Vrax said, careful not to move his burning hands too much. “I need to find my mate.”

  “The female?” One of the other men stared at him in disbelief. “Isn’t she in the stands?”

  Vrax shook his head. He didn’t have time to argue with them. He knew Tori was no longer in the stadium, and he knew she was in danger. “She’s gone.”

  “Well,” the third said, his voice syrupy. “Perhaps she left for a reason. Women do not always want to be followed.”

  “That’s right.” Bony Hands snapped his fingers. “You should give her space. Go after her when you’re finished.”

  “I am finished.” Vrax pushed through them and continued down the passageway toward the holding room. “I just need my payment.”

  The aliens rushed after him, calling out reasons for him to stay.

  “Imagine how much more you’ll make if you keep fighting.”

  “You only started.”

  “The crowd loves you. You can’t let them down.”

  They followed him into the room as he pawed through his clothes—trying to ignore the pain of his damaged hands—and he glanced up at them. “Are you saying I can’t leave?”

  They seemed to shrink back from his menacing expression, shaking their heads. Apparently, his victories in the ring had impressed even the fight promoters.

  Vrax shed the loincloth costume quickly, pulling on his leather pants and releasing his hair from the topknot. He slipped his blades into his waistband, feeling more like himself, although he wished he had some healing leaves for his wounds. A pang of longing for his home planet made him sigh.

  Before the aliens could fire more protests at him, another male entered the room, his bulk talking up most of the doorway as he ambled through. Vrax assessed him quickly as someone who did not fight, but who ate well. Although the pale-haired creature was large, his girth was not muscle and his chins quivered as he moved.

  “I wanted to see the hero for myself,” he said, the smile plastered to his face strained.

  The air in the room changed, and Vrax knew instantly that his promoters knew this creature and did not like him.

  “I assume you came to pay up,” one of the three promoters said, squaring his shoulders.

  “I must admit you caught me off guard.” The large male looked Vrax up and down. “It’s been a long time since you put up a winner. How much do you want for him?”

  Vrax flexed his arms. “I am no slave.”

  The man tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “No? You look familiar.”

  Vrax also remembered seeing him, but only out of the corner of his eye as the male had been leading his new friend Zarda away from the slave market. He hoped this slaver wouldn’t remember where he’d seen him, and he hoped he hadn’t heard of Meridia’s death.

  Bony Hands stepped forward. “Regardless, you need to pay up. He beat your two fighters fair and square.”

  “Yes.” The slaver steepled his fat fingers. “And my Lantherian, too. Quite impressive.”

  So the alien with toxic skin was called a Lantherian. Vrax made a mental note to avoid those creatures from then on.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to come work for me?” The slaver gave him a slippery smile. “I could make you rich and famous.”

  Vrax shook his head as the promoters squawked out angry protests. “Only our payment.”

  He glanced over the alien’s shoulders and spotted Zarda and several other slaves waiting in the tunnel. His chest tightened. He hated the idea of slaves and especially of the alien, Zarda, being kept by this repulsive creature. No doubt the slaver would fight him until he died.

  “You see, that’s the problem.” The alien rocked back on his heels and his stomach jiggled. “I never expected these amateurs to produce someone who would win.”

  Vrax pulled himself up to his full height, towering over the others in the room. “Is that your way of saying you do not plan to pay your debt?”

  More loud complaints from the promoters, who’d now formed a semicircle around him.

  “This will never stand.”

  “We’ll report you to the fighting commission.”

  “You’ll never set foot in Kurril again.”

  The slaver’s face reddened. “I’m sure we can work out a deal. Perhaps you can wait—”

  “No waiting,” Vrax said, cutting him off. “How much do you have?”

  The alien produced a handful of metal discs, extending them for inspection. Vrax did not know what they were—he assumed they were these credits everyone talked about—but from the gasps and mutters around him, he suspected they were not enough.

  “That’s barely more than half,” Bony Hands said, his words sounding hissed.

  Vrax did not have time for more arguments or to wait for payment. He scooped the credits out of the male’s sweaty palm and deposited most into the spindly hand of one of the others.

  “I will take this and him.” He pointed his finger at Zarda.

  The alien slaver turned and stared open-mouthed into the tunnel where the alien stood. “Him?”

  “Him?” the others repeated, the shock clear in their voices. “The first one you defeated?”

  “You have no need for him,” Vrax told the slaver. “He is not a born fighter. He will only cost you food and lose you fights. Give him to me and your debt will be paid.”

  He raised a fist to silence the others, gesturing to the credits in the thin hand. “You have been well paid for doing little more than watching.”

  They muttered, but finally nodded their agreement.

  The heavy-set alien studied him for a moment, then waved a hand. “Take him. You are right. He is worth nothing to me. Even his screams do not entertain me.”

  Vrax pushed past him, pausing outside the room to untie Zarda from the alien next to him. “You’re with me.”

  The green-skinned creature blinked at him, his gaze darting from him to the slaver and back.

  “It’s okay,” Vrax said, taking him by the elbow and propelling him forward. “I bought your freedom.”

  Zarda choked back a sob. “I do not know what to say.”

  Vrax stopped when they reached the end of the tunnel and stepped out into the t
eeming city again. “Say you will help me find my mate.”

  Zarda placed a hand flat in the center of his chest and gave a brief bow. “You have my word, friend.”

  Vrax scanned the stream of aliens swarming around the fighting stadium and wondered how many had been cheering for him to rip another creature apart. Although he considered himself a warrior who relished battle, this entertainment baffled him. Everything about Kurril felt wrong and foreign to him, and he desperately wanted to find Tori and escape, taking her back to his planet and keeping her safe with him in his tent.

  Of course, this was laughable. Tori would never allow herself to be hidden away. She would insist on going on every dangerous mission and fighting in any battle. Knowing her, she would probably cause a few. The thought of his mate made his stomach churn.

  “Where is this mate of yours?” Zarda asked.

  “That is the problem,” Vrax said. “I do not know, but I am sure she is in danger.”

  Zarda let out a bitter laugh. “That does not narrow it down much, since we are in the Den of Thieves.”

  “I am sure she was taken against her will during the fight. She can’t have gone very far.” Vrax attempted to quiet his mind and focus only on Tori, despite the loud buzz of the crowd and the deception and malice that seemed to pulse around him. If she was out there, he should be able to sense her.

  The voices surrounding him faded as he searched for her, holding an image of her in his head—her unruly curls, her muscular body, her curvy mouth that loved to argue with him. A rush of affection flooded him, and he swayed where he stood.

  He’d been right. She was not far. He could almost feel the chill that engulfed her and also the darkness. For a moment, he worried that she’d been buried, but then he sensed walls. She was underground a building somewhere. But where?

  He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, his head aching from the effort. Zarda stood by his side, silently waiting.

  “Do you where someone could be held underground?” Vrax asked him, hoping the alien knew more about thee city than he did.

  “I do not,” Zarda admitted after a moment’s thought. “But I know someone who will know.”

  Vrax nodded, as the alien led him through the throng of people, the masses parting when they saw Vrax.

  Hold on, he thought, as he got a flash of Tori’s fear. I’m coming.

  He would find Tori, no matter what. And he would kill the creatures who’d dared to hurt his mate.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Tori flinched as D’Vos ripped the shirt off her body, and she steeled herself for his unwanted touch. The cool air of the basement made her nipples harden, and she cursed her body for reacting.

  D’Vos growled and let out a throaty laugh. “That’s what I like to see. A female getting excited for me. Maybe you aren’t so reluctant, after all.”

  “Untie me and find out,” she said.

  “When I have you ready and willing for me like this?” he said, taking her nipples between his fingers and squeezing hard. “Not a chance.”

  She jerked away, but he held tight, his grip making her grit her teeth from the pain.

  “And this way, it will be easier to kill you once we’re done,” he said, his voice soft and menacing.

  “All this because I didn’t want to screw you?”

  “No.” He twisted her nipples. “All this because you left me with a scar and got me demoted.”

  Tori laughed in spite of the situation. “The captain demoted you? I’m surprised he cared about how many women his crew raped.”

  “He didn’t care about that. He cared that he lost a crew mate who was still paying off her debt.”

  That made more sense, not that she ever would have been able to work off the debt she owed for getting passage off the Zevrian home world. Which was probably exactly why the captain had deemed her so valuable.

  “That’s okay,” D’Vos said, grasping a breast in each hand and kneading them so roughly tears sprang to her eyes. “You’ll pay it off with me, instead.”

  She tried to envision all the ways she could kill him to keep her mind off what was happening. First she’d strangle him until his face turned blue, then she’d kick him in the balls until those fell off. The thought almost made her smile.

  Her mind wandered to Vrax. She hoped he found her before they killed her. She knew enough about his sense of honor and loyalty to know that he’d never forgive himself, and she hated the thought of him suffering. She also hated the idea of never seeing him again. The barbarian might drive her crazy, but he was the only man she’d ever felt she could rely on. The only one she’d ever trusted.

  Tori closed her eyes as she heard D’Vos fumbling with his pants, pulling her arms desperately against the bindings one last time. She turned her head as his body pressed against hers, his chest armor scraping her breasts. His breathing was heavy, and he grunted as he tugged at her pants.

  Then his body went rigid, and he made a small gurgling noise. Did he really come already? She opened her eyes to see his eyes wide and blood trickling out of his mouth, as he slid down to the floor.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked past D’Vos’ dead body and the curved blade sticking out of his back. Vrax stood at the bottom of the stairs, his face dark with fury.

  “You came,” she said, her voice cracking. She’d never been as happy to see anyone in her life, even if she was half naked and tied to a wall.

  “I found her, Zarda,” Vrax called up. “Stay there, and I’ll bring her up.”

  She didn’t know who he was talking to, but she didn’t care. He was there, and D’Vos was dead. He’d tracked her down, even though she was tied up in some dark basement. He’d found her, despite everything.

  Vrax crossed the room in a few long strides, kicking the Zevrian’s body out of the way. He stroked the tip of one finger gently down her cheek. “Did he harm you?”

  Her pulse fluttered. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  His eyes searched her face, touching a tender spot on her cheekbone. “My tough mate.”

  She didn’t argue with him. She was so happy he was there, she would have agreed to just about anything he said. “You mind untying me?”

  He carefully unwound the ropes from her wrists and pulled them from the iron rings attached to the walls.

  She rubbed her hands to bring feeling back to them. “Where the hell am I, anyway?”

  Vrax’s menacing expression returned. “A place where they bring slaves when they’re moving them through the city.”

  “And how did you know to look here?”

  He motioned overhead. “Zarda knows someone who specializes in rescuing slaves. Once he gave us some options, I was able to narrow it down to where I felt you.”

  “Where you felt me?”

  “I told you.” He smoothed a curl of her forehead using the back of one hand. “You are mine. I can sense you now.”

  “I don’t know if I’d say I’m yours—” she started to argue, but was stopped when he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her gently and sending a jolt through her body. His desire surged through her, his feelings so tender that her arms went instinctively around his neck. Okay, maybe there was something to this mind connection thing after all.

  He pulled away, breathing heavy. “We should get you out of here.”

  “What about the rest of the crew? D’Vos said they were all going to… well, he said there were more of them upstairs.”

  Anger pulsed through him, as he cut his eyes to the dead body. “All dead.”

  She raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You and this Zarda killed them all?”

  “Mostly me,” Vrax said. “It was not hard. They were drunk, and I was angry.”

  Tori suspected that was an understatement as she could feel the remnants of his fury vibrating off of him. She could imagine what he might be like when he was really angry, and she almost felt sorry for the crew he’d killed. Almost.

  “Come. We should leave before any
more arrive.”

  She glanced down at her bare breasts, the shreds of her shirt hanging from her shoulders. “I can’t exactly walk around Kurril like this.”

  “No, you cannot.” He frowned, his anger clearly building again. “It is enough that another male saw you and put his hands on you, but I will cut down—”

  Tori put a hand on his chest. Calming down people usually wasn’t her strong suit, but the last thing they needed was Vrax going through the Den of Thieves murdering anyone who looked at her. “It’s over. You killed him. He won’t hurt me or anyone ever again.”

  He met her gaze, his eyes flashing. “You do not understand. It is my job as your mate to protect you, and I let another male take you and touch you.”

  “Whoa.” She pushed him back. “First of all, it isn’t your job to protect me. I’ve protected myself and my crew long before you showed up. And you didn’t let anything happen. D’Vos was an asshole who got the drop on me. End of story. So stop thinking that everything is about you, pretty boy.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “If you are my mate, you are mine to protect.”

  “Who says I’m your mate?” Why had she forgotten how arrogant and pushy he was?

  “I do.” His voice shook, but the hand he put on her waist was gentle.

  She realized that his voice wasn’t shaking with rage, it was shaking with fear. The same fear he’d felt when he’d been searching for her and the same fear she’d felt when she thought he might not find her in time.

  She rested her own hand on top of his. “Do you think you could tone it down with the whole mate thing?”

  His scowl softened. “For now.”

  She let out a breath, glad to sense him calming. Of course, the fact that she could so easily feel his emotions didn’t do anything but strengthen his argument. An argument she knew would be continued later.

  He glanced at his own naked chest, then his gaze went to D’Vos. He flipped the man over, unhooking his chest armor and sliding it out from under him, his movements jerky.

  “You want me to wear that?” she asked when he held it out.