Please, Goddess—I don’t want to die! she thought, gazing down into the glaring silver-blue gaze of the huge Havoc. I don’t want to die…
* * * * *
The Master’s face was all he could see. The thinning gray hair, the greedy eyes, the fat jowls that quivered in anticipation when the Master came to get what he wanted…
But suddenly the hated face melted away. The thinning gray pate was replaced by a long, black main of silky hair. The narrow lips turned full and lush—the color of ripe berries. And the small, greedy eyes became large and dark and full of pain.
Thrace stared in confusion as the transformation took place. Who the hell was this female and why was he choking her?
Gods—he was choking her! Choking a female—hurting a female! Though the Havoc did not bond with females for life like their genetic cousins, the Kindred, they still had a strict code of honor when it came to the other sex. Foremost in that code was that a Havoc never, never physically injured a female.
Gods! He let her go, forcing his hand which had been clamped around her slim throat to relax and drop to his side. She fell back choking, her hand going to her throat as she tried to get enough air.
Thrace was horrified at what he’d done to her. Who was she, anyway? She looked like someone he knew or had met once in another life. She had creamy, light brown skin the likes of which he’d never seen before. It was beautiful…unusual…and vaguely familiar.
The female, he thought. The one who was talking with the damn slaver just before he started the pain collar. The one who…bought me? Did she buy me? Does she think she’s my new Mistress?
Suddenly an agonizing bolt of pain hit his ankle and traveled up his entire body. He felt every muscle locking up, going rigid with pain. And then…nothing.
* * * * *
“He’s out.” Sidna was breathing hard. “Are you all right, Trin?”
“I…think so.” Trin massaged her throat delicately. “He’s got a hell of a grip.”
Sidna sighed in relief. “Thank the Goddess he didn’t get both hands around your neck or I would have been too late.” She handed the stunner back to Trin. “Here. I was coming to bring this back to you when I saw what was happening. I don’t like to say I told you so but it’s clear he’s a vicious, savage beast.”
“He’s not.” Trin coughed, feeling the burn in her throat. “He let me go before you stunned him.”
“He what?” Sidna frowned at her.
“I think he was having some kind of a nightmare. He was thrashing and moaning and I was trying to calm him down. He grabbed me when he was still half asleep and he was trying to say something. I think…” She frowned. “I think it was ‘Master.’”
“Great.” Sidna put a hand on her hip. “So you’re saying he had a nightmare about his last master and his response was to try and choke him? What does that say about what kind of slave he is, Trin? Why do you think he was being sold in the first place?”
“I don’t know,” Trin said stubbornly. “But I still don’t think he meant to hurt me.”
“Well, whether he meant to or not, he nearly killed you. You’re going to have some serious bruises there.” Sidna examined her neck critically. “Will you please move him into the brig now?”
“How?” Trin demanded. “He’s out cold and he’s huge, as you pointed out. The whole crew together isn’t strong enough to move his mass from here to the brig.”
“Well, you have to at least restrain him,” Sidna said. “I mean it, Trin—it’s not safe to let him stay loose. The whole crew is in danger this way.”
“I guess you’re right,” Trin said reluctantly. “Do we still have the manacles we used on the Gox?”
“We do. Want me to bring them up?”
“I guess you’d better.” For some reason, Trin still felt reluctant to shackle the big Havoc. She honestly didn’t think his attack on her had been on purpose. But she could tell that Sidna wouldn’t feel safe otherwise and that probably went double for the rest of the crew.
“We’ll chain him to the cot for now,” the medic said. “But if he wakes up in a belligerent mood, I still think we should move him to the brig. We can hold a blaster on him and force him to move there under his own power if we have to.”
“All right.” Trin sighed. “Go get the manacles.”
After Sidna left, she stared down at the huge Havoc who was still out cold. Who had he been seeing when he tried to choke the life out of her? And what had happened to him to provoke such a murderous reaction?
She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
Chapter Four
Thrace woke for the second time, gasping like a male whose head has finally broken the surface of a pounding sea. In his case, a sea of nightmares. Memories he’d carefully suppressed for years were crowding into his mind, flowing in like cold, slimy sewage trying to drown him.
Gods, where am I? He looked around the small room he was in. It was dimly lit with bare metal walls. A cell of some kind? He tried to sit up but his body wouldn’t obey. Then he heard a metallic clinking and felt the manacles around his wrists. A surge of panic hit him and a low growl began to build in his chest.
The Master! He’s chained me up again! That means it’s only a matter of time before he comes in and—
“So you’re finally awake. Again.”
The unfamiliar voice made him jerk his head—the only part of him which was able to move freely. A familiar face came into view—a female with creamy, light brown skin and long black hair. She was lovely, with big, dark eyes and delicate features. Her full lips were the color of ripe berries.
And there were finger-shaped bruises in a ring around her slender neck.
Thrace had a vague memory of throttling her and felt a surge of shame. I did that to her. Me—I did it. But why?
He seemed to remember bad dreams, memories coming back of things he’d buried years before. The Master, he thought uneasily. I thought she was the Master…
But why was he thinking of that bastard now? What had unearthed the bad memories of the past?
As he stared at the female’s face, it all began coming back to him. The seedy portside bar on Padge where he and Solar had gone to drink while The Empress was repaired. Being captured by the slavers…sold on the auction block at the Flesh Bazaar…. Sold, apparently, to this female here. The one who had been eyeing him before that bastard of a slaver used the fucking pain collar on him.
He opened his mouth to talk—to demand that she untie him—but nothing came out but a low croak. More memories came back.
That fucking slaver—the paralytic he injected into my vocal chords… But shouldn’t it have worn off by now?
“Don’t try to talk,” the girl said. Her slim brown hand came towards his face and Thrace tried to jerk away, certain she was holding some kind of a weapon. Retribution, maybe, for the way he’d hurt her.
“Hold still, she admonished him. “You’re sweating like crazy—I’m trying to cool you down. Not that it ended very well the last time I tried it.” She touched her fingertips to her bruised throat and winced before reaching for him again.
Thrace watched as her hand descended to his face. He tried to raise his own hand to stop her but the manacles held him fast. He was tied down and helpless—there was nothing he could do.
He felt his breathing go short and sharp as his heart started to pound. There was nothing worse than this feeling of helplessness—the feeling of being tied down and unable to move while another acted upon you.
Ha—“acted upon you.” That’s a nice way to put it, growled a sarcastic voice in his head. Really fucking poetic considering—