REYNARD SPOONS AGAINST the girl, his fiery passion still pumping his heart. Her body remains cool against his skin. He draws his fingers over her body. None of her flesh contains hair. He wonders what species she is. He doubts her ancestors were primates.
His hand slides around the curve of her abdomen. He searches her tummy. Not even a divot where the navel would go. Why would anyone pressing against such a beautiful naked woman be thinking of her biological development? All of her equipment functioned beyond expectations. I just need a few minutes to prepare for another round.
His stomach burbles. A quick snack will restore his prowess. Reynard pulls away from her. Despite her cold skin he wants to remain next to her. The rumbles remind him he must eat for energy. He nibbles on what he hopes is fish. Learning never to take full bites of alien food on the first chomp, he pecks at it until he’s sure it’s edible. Following a few full bites, his stomach ceases its grumbling.
He breaks his connection with her by untangling his leg from hers. His knees wobble, still weak from passion.
The wall she entered from contains no seam break.
“Master.” Her voice remains submissively soft.
“Are you hungry?”
She scoots from under the blanket. Reynard appreciates her making no effort to cover herself, but her gentleness borders on the subservient side. He finds it undesirable in women. Amye lacks acquiescence, and he admires her for it.
She hesitates.
“You eat, if you are hungry.” It’s been hours.
“Master.”
“Eat.”
“I eat only after you.”
This can’t be good.
“Then I’m full.” Even if I’m not.
“Does the food fail to please you?”
He returns to the bed, drawing her into his arm. His gaze draws instantly to the purple in her eyes.
“Everything about you pleases me. It would please me for you to share this meal with me.”
“I’m yours to command, Master.”
The girls back on the Dragon are going to kill me. “Do you have a name?”
“When designated to a mate, he is allowed to choose.”
“So you never had a name?”
“Mothers name daughters until the day they are won.”
Won. Like in a tribal competition. She was so compliant because she was awarded to me. Now Amye’s really going to shoot me. “What did your mother call you?”
“Leeka.”
He kisses her cheek. “Beautiful. You keep your name.” He locks his lips on hers, drinking in her splendor. Releasing for a breath. “I don’t want a slave. As a free woman, you have the option to return to my ship with me or stay with your people.”
“What makes my Master happy?”
“What would make me happy is leaving this room.”
“I will do anything for you, Master, but you leaving this room is not within my power.”
If she were an Osirian, her quivering face signals would mean she holds back tears, but Reynard’s not sure she has tear ducts. As much as he has focused on the purple, he hasn’t scanned around the outside.
“I am yours—forever, Master.”
“Are we to be together forever in this room?”
“I must—”
“I’m confused. If you belong to me, then what prevents you from opening the door for me?” Reynard scolds.
“If I take you from this room, then they will execute you.”
Oh. I’ve fucked up. “Who will execute me?”
“The Overlord.” For the first time she shivers, but not from being cold.
One of the Throgen Generals. I didn’t think this was his territory, but we know so little. “Why would the Overlord bother with me?”
She hangs her head. “He recovered you in an experiment. He forced the Bacooll upon you, and now I am your pair-bond.”
“What do you mean?”
“The body in the crumpled machine was lifeless. The Bacooll restored you.”
If the emergency tracking system still works—
“Where is the machine?” he asks.
Leeka averts her eyes to the floor. Reynard flips the hair off her shoulder, petting the side of her head. “I’m not going to hurt you, Leeka.”
“The Overlord will harm you.”
“No, he won’t, or he’d have left me dead.” More than likely, they used artificial life support this poor girl does not understand.
“You were dead.”
“I’ve no fear of the Overlord. Now how do I get out of the room?”
“Master, please. I am unable to grant this one request.”
“Then you don’t belong to me.” Reynard intends to debase her.
“I am forever yours. If you reject me, I will be put to death.”
“You say you are mine, but those are words. I live by actions.” What an asshole I am. An Osirian woman would shove me away for my behavior. Amye’d bust my nose. “Why would your people kill you?”
He touches her cheek and notes that her eyes well as if she were crying without tears.
“The Overlord took my people. He built a dome over the city and rounded up all the males. He keeps the mates and the children to force them to work the caverns north of the city. We care nothing for the plentiful stones other than in our rituals where a male child earns his adult place. Collecting stones means he’s allowed to select a girl as his mate. Now he forces them to take all stones.”
Slaves.
“The pressure in the caves is greater than the ocean depths. It crushes the men the longer they stay inside. Soon there won’t be any left.”
Genocide. The Throgen are no better than the Mokarran. “I’ll stop the Overlord. I need to contact my ship.”
“The craft they removed? Your husk was broken.”
“My ship is in orbit.”
“Orbit? Master?”
“Above your ocean.”
“There is nothing above the ocean, Master.”
Local superstitions. “I need my equipment, my clothes.” My gun.
“I’m afraid, Master.”
He clutches her arm. Squeezing tight to allow his anger to radiate into her. She doesn’t protest the rough grips, nor does she jerk away as instincts should order her to.
“If you are mine, then you must.” I’ll find some way to make it up to you. Manipulating women is Scott’s department.
Her porcelain skin maintains the red marks of his fingers. “I will retrieve them, Master, but you must remain in this room.”
“If I must.”
She sulks to the wall where she entered, disappearing through the opening.
Now we’ll see what my sword is made of. He grips the invisible hilt, and the katana blade flashes into existence. Following the forms instructed by Joe’s clan, Reynard admires the exquisite balance of the weapon. His feet slide into the proper fighting stance as he raises the sword above his head. The strength of the mountain flows through you. Bringing the cutting edge through the door, it tears as if he were slicing aluminum foil.
Panic grips Leeka as she races to Reynard in time to witness the sword flash from his open hand.
“Time to get this party started.”
“Master.”
He ignores the hysteria in her tone, scooping his arm under hers by the elbow. “We’re going to have to have a serious discussion about this Master thing. Where’s my gun?”
The whirl of robotic gears forces Reynard to crane his neck around. On either side of the door are two humanoids. Distant Osirian cousin species from their skin pigments and facial features.
Molded to their skin are battle armor plates, some with advanced electronic systems encompassing much of the metal. Augmented limbs with mechanical exoskeleton parts complete with rotten flesh in a nightmarish transformation. The marriage of cybernetics reaches a pinnacle of horror, as the backs of the skulls are cut away and replaced by CPU units and other computer hardware.
He doesn’t give the pair a chance to display their weapon capacity. The blade flashes and lacerates the first guard’s torso, shattering flesh, bone and metal, spraying the wall in greenish liquid. As the beveled end punctures the brain case through the mouth of the second guard, a mixture of crimson blood and hydraulic fluid burbles out of the orifice.
The shrill chortle forces Reynard’s eyes into a squint. He grabs Leeka’s arm, half dragging, half carrying her away from the slaughter. She gets her feet under her, matching his pace. “Master, please, they will destroy my people.”
“No matter what the Overlord promises, once he has all those rocks he will destroy your people.”
“Once the stones are gone, we mean nothing to him?” she realizes.
“You mean nothing to him now,” Reynard says. “Your people will be turned into those things I just killed.” So were those poor souls in Mokarran battle we witnessed. They take prisoners to grow their army.
“You are powerful to control such a weapon. Master, protect my people.”
“I need to contact my crew.” And I should be concerned as to why I’m not a mindless drone. Reynard takes her hand in his and squeezes it gently. “I’ll do everything possible to protect your people.” As soon as I figure out how.
The corridor opens into a mezzanine overlooking a courtyard with a central pool incrusted with diamonds.
“Are those the stones your males must gather?” he asks.
“The caverns around the city are lined with them.”
Some beam weapons utilize diamonds to focus the beam, but retrieving them at the bottom of an ocean can’t be cost effective.
Lumbering through the archway are bulky, scaled masses. Metal helmets augment their pea-sized heads. One of the creatures cracks its knuckles on a three-finger hand.
“Those things guard my people everywhere.”
“Robotic drones and hulking monsters. What else does the Overlord employ?”
“I don’t understand, Master.”
“Where’s my ship?”
She points to the archway where the orange monsters guard. “They only let women pass.”
“This isn’t going to be healthy.” Reynard vaults from the mezzanine. Gripping the sword as he falls, the blade drinks deeply the purple blood of the hulks.
The other creature backhands Reynard, sailing him across the room. His shoulder fractures against the pool.
Leeka’s squawk pierces the air.
Exposed muscle fibers leak blood as his scapula pierces the skin, leaving his sword arm useless. The monster looms over him, snatching his ankle. Pain and blood loss grapple inside Reynard’s brain, and his sword disappears.
