Finding Lara (Distant Worlds Book 3) (10 page)

Barnos wanted to ask her many
things.  Mostly about what had happened after the betraying Shakien knocked him
out, but with the audience they probably had, he couldn’t.  He settled for
something he could ask.  “Are you alright?”

“Define alright?” she
quipped, her eyes just a little shiny with suppressed tears that showed even
through the brave face she was putting on.  Then she shook it off moving closer
to him so that she rested inside his open arms.  His naked open arms, since the
towel hung loosely and only covered him from waist to knee.

“Thaos?” she asked in
barely a whisper.  When he saw that she might add more, proving she maybe did
not grasp the scope that listening devices could have, he did the only thing he
could think to shut her up.  He kissed her.  Though if pressed he would admit
he would have kissed her anyway.  If he were going to die in the near future,
he would rather go with the taste of Lara on his lips than anything else he
could think of, and if it was also seen as a staking of his claim to the big
blue barbarian so be it.  She whimpered prettily against his lips, and fell
into his damp naked chest, kissing him back.  Her wispy scarves did nothing to
protect either of them from the feeling of hot flesh.  Barnos groaned and
pulled her in tighter, so that he could feel her nipples bead against that
barely there fabric rubbing his chest.  Even knowing that they were going to be
interrupted before anything could really happen he enjoyed the taste and feel
of her.  Doing what he always did where a beautiful woman was concerned, he
enjoyed the moment.  He would deal with the consequences when it came raging
back through the door.

Which it did, in the form
of that same blue barbarian he now wanted to kill more than ever.  He pulled
back and looked at the man over Lara’s head.  She was blinking dazed eyes,
turning her head to look at the door when he pushed her behind him and faced
the enraged barbarian.  The enraged armed barbarian.

“Lara,” the big brute
said, making her name sound exotic with the heat and accent he connected to the
one word.  Lara blew out a shaky breath, and Barnos could feel her pulling her
calm back around her like armor.  “Come to me.”

Everyone knew she didn’t
have a choice, not with his hands on the blaster at his belt and his rage-filled
eyes on Barnos.  Especially Lara.  She walked around Barnos with swollen red
lips and glassy eyes, but she trailed her hand along his skin as long as she
could, extending her arm full behind her before her fingers slipped away from
his side.  Lara was making her own point, her head held high, and her eyes
serene.  Barnos smiled again, big and brash in the brute’s face, admiring both
her brass and the little trails of moisture making her dress more revealing
than ever through the paper-thin fabric.  The barbarian growled, taking her arm
a little too tightly and pulled her around so that she bounced against his
side.  Lara did not look at him, or react to the shackle of his hand on her
small arm.

“What, no bandages? 
Shocking.”  Barnos quipped.

“The doctor will see you
soon enough,” looking unhappily at Lara in his hand, the brute seemed to
dislike the blank look that Lara had once again masked herself with. 
An
interesting survival mask she has
, Barnos thought.  And effective if the
bemused look on the blue face was any indication.

“Why did you bring her in
here?” Barnos asked, studying the man with the glint of heat in his eyes
turning swiftly from desire to anger.

“I wanted to see what you
were to her,” he actually answered, which Barnos did not really expect. “Now I
know.”
What the hell was he playing at?
 

“Now you know shite.” 
Barnos gave him a baring of teeth that no one would ever call a smile.  “Touch
her, barbarian, and there will be nowhere you can hide from me.”

The barbarian gave him
back his own baring of teeth, his hand on Lara’s arm pulling her closer to his
side swiftly so that she fell into the man and was held against him.  Close. 
His eyes flicked to her face, but except for a slight tightening of those rosy lips,
she kept her peaceful expression.  It was as if she could not be touched when
she did not wish to be.  But the man never looked away from Barnos.  “You have
no threat here, slave.  I hope you enjoyed your goodbyes.  You won’t be touching
her again.  She belongs to me now.”

Barnos laughed a big hard
sound that made Lara flinch from the bite of it.  “Forcing a woman is not
claiming her. It’s just rape and any fucking bastard with a dick can do that. 
If you really could claim her I might be worried, but to do that, the woman has
to actually want you.  If you value the pathetic life you have, barbarian, take
this warning to heart.  She is not for the likes of you.”

“You think you are better
than I am, slave?”  Something had made the man furious.

“Too fucking right,”
Barnos shot back on another big laugh.

Forge pulled out a
blaster and Lara gasped trying to pull his arm down from where it was aimed at
Barnos, but she did not have the reach or the strength to do it.  “I could kill
you where you stand.”

“Then do it and be
damned,’ Barnos said suddenly coldly furious, his eyes taking the rage of the
man before him and directing it back. 

It was a long drawn out
dangerous moment before the blue barbarian holstered his weapon.  “She may have
wanted you,” he finally said grimly taking Lara none too gently to the door, “but
it isn’t you that has her now.”

Barnos called after them
both as the man shoved her through the door before him.  “Take what she doesn’t
offer and it’ll be death that comes calling one dark night.  Soon.”

This time it was Forge
who laughed.  “Death is an old friend of mine, pirate.  We have danced many
times and for less worthy prizes.”  Then he closed the door, and Barnos was
locked in and Lara was on her own. 
Shite.

Lara stood just outside
of Barnos’ door and waited for whatever was coming.  The guards looked to Forge,
but he only had eyes for Lara.  He waved them off to other duties without
looking anywhere else.  She kept her chin high and her face blank.

“You were different with
him,” he stated flatly.  Lara did not understand the depth of feeling he was
emitting.  It made no sense in this instance so she focused on his eyes.  He
allowed nothing to show in his face but she could feel a . . . longing that was
more than the lust she was expecting from him.  “Answer!” he spat out, a rage
that was far and away what it should be for the circumstances, making her jump.

“I know him,” she finally
said carefully.

“Do you love him?”

That made her blink and
forced the blank expression from her face.  It was not a question she had been
expecting.  In fact, this whole conversation was confusing her.  “I don’t know
him that well,” she finally answered, clearing her throat at the uncomfortable
thought.  Barnos was a pirate.  A bold, raunchy, outspoken pirate, who seemed
to have no normal conscience and delighted in mayhem.  He was not the hero of
her girlhood imaginings, nor even a good man.  By most definitions, he was a
very bad man; even she was not naive enough to think otherwise.  Falling in
love with him would be beyond foolish.  Ridiculous and cliché.  She was emphatically
not in love with him, even if his touch moved her as no one else’s ever had.

“You say that like you
mean it.”  Forge looked her over carefully, looking for she knew not what.

“I do mean it,” Lara said
with firmness, thinking of how dumb she would have to be for that.

“Then you will consider
becoming my mate?”  Forge’s words caught her off guard, had her coming back
from thoughts of Barnos and his mastery of kisses to the present danger.

“I thought your boss
refused you,” she said carefully, her eyes on the flash of his as they trailed
over her yet again.

“I am Brutan; I am not so
easily ruled.”  His words were proud.

Lara tilted her head and
wondered if she was finally experiencing a lost in translation moment.  She
licked her suddenly dry lips.  “I don’t understand.  You are bound to the Hyperion’s
rule as much as any of the slaves here.  Frot can order me dead or to someone
else as he sees fit and you would obey him.  How would I be your mate?”

“I am not a slave, not
anymore,” he said, his eyebrows lowering in anger.  “I have earned my place
here.  I have earned the right to mate.”

“But . . . you can’t, can
you?”  She wondered if she looked as confused as she felt.  “I mean, not with
me, not without permission.”

“If anyone tries to take
you I will kill them.  I could leave this place anytime.  I am not as kept as
they think I am.”  He ran a finger down her cheek, his voice lowering.  “I
would take you with me if you chose me.”

Lara sighed out a long
breath and shook her head, pushing away his hand.  “Then it is worse than I
thought.  You do terrible things here, and for what?  Money?”  She looked at
him sadly.  “When you above all the others know what it means to be a slave
here.  How can you do what you do to other living beings?  If you know how to
escape, why not help the others?”

“I do what I always do,”
he growled, clearly not liking her questions.  “I survive.”

“Is that enough then?” she
asked softly.  “To survive?”  She shook her head sadly and stepped away from
him, her answer in her eyes.  “You think you have escaped the games?  That you
are less trapped than the lowest slave here because you are no longer pitted in
the fights?  You are no different than the rest of them.  Worse, because they
have no choice, and you do.”

His hand was suddenly
wrapped around her throat, lifting her to the tips of her toes.  Lara wrapped
her hands around his to hold herself up and keep from choking.  His gold eyes flashed
anger into her gasping face.  “I am no slave!”

She could not speak, and
his hand would not budge from her throat no matter how she struggled.  Just as
fast, he released her and she stumbled, nearly falling, her hand going to her
throat, her eyes accusing.  She choked out the words “No,” she inhaled harshly
letting him see everything she was feeling.  “You are worse.”  When she could
do it, she stood to her full height, chin held high, and allowed her serenity
to cloak her once again.  “I am the Lady Lara of the Heti people.  Daughter to
High Ambassador Tryne.  I do not associate with slavers.”

For one moment, she
thought he was going to strike her, maybe kill her.  The rage she could feel
coming off him was disproportionate to the circumstances, but he didn’t.  Instead,
he took a bruising hold on her arm and led her stumbling back to her room.  He
said nothing further, and neither did she, but she felt enough of his careening
emotions to know that he was not finished with her.

Forge practically threw
her into her room and slammed the pad on the wall.  It was a struggle to hold
those burning eyes while the doors closed but she did anyway.  Wearing her hard
won serenity like a shield, she faced him down.

When the door finally
closed her inside her small cell, locking her in until the next fight, it was
almost a relief. 

Compared to the cell
Barnos was given after his win it was small, but it had a bathroom and food so
she knew she was still considered a favored slave.  One more day survived
without being tortured, raped, or killed.  One more day for Tolan Lark to pull
off his big rescue.  She fell back onto her bed and wished herself far away
from the death games and brutal men.  Well, except for Barnos.  She wrapped her
arms around herself and thought about the pirate.  Brutal he might be, she
thought remembering his fight, but he had his own redeeming qualities.  She
remembered the way he kissed wearing nothing but a towel over damp skin.  It
was a better way to fall asleep then the alternative thoughts that wanted to
crowd her brain, but it was not exactly conducive to rest.

***

After a restless few
hours of sleep, Lara was hauled out of bed to begin her further duties.  Interpreting
for the slavers and their newest trainees.

She thought she had seen
the worst the death games had to offer with the fights.  But looking on the
faces of the ten ‘exotics’, as they called them, she knew she was wrong.  The
moment she saw the faces of the half dozen children looking up at her she
suddenly understood Tolan Lark a lot better. Thaos was there, as were many
different species that would one day be too dangerous to capture.  They found
them young so that they could be trained as slaves.  Unlike the rest of the fighters,
these were not trained daily for combat.  These ones were taught they had no
hope of life but what their jailers gave them.  Looking around at the predatory
young, she understood Tolan even more.  They were attempting to make nothing
more of them than pets.  Realizing more than she liked of what was in store for
the new recruits, she swore then and there that she would find a way to save
them all.  Forge escorted her as usual.  Frot met them and explained her
further duties.

“We have new arrivals
that do not speak ship standard, but a collection of heathen dialects we have
no hope of learning even with the latest language uploads.  You are an
interpreter.”  He waved her forward.  “Interpret.”

She looked at the
children, for no matter what they looked like, winged, horned, clawed, in many
different colors, taller than her or otherwise, these were all still the
children of their people, and from them she could feel nothing but fear and
confusion.  And, in a few cases, hopelessness.  She sent soothing vibes to them
without thinking about it, and felt all of them turn and look at her.  A few of
them had psychic abilities and they latched on to her mind as if she was the
only port of safety in a terrible storm.  She gasped and clutched at her belly;
bent over in sudden pain, she tried to retrain herself to breathe.  “They are
starving,” she gasped out, the tears overflowing her eyes.  It was an effort to
get the words out, the hunger a gnawing ache in her belly.  She had been hungry
before but never this all-consuming raw ache.  What would a person do to end
that terrible hunger?  What would she do?  It was too awful to contemplate, but
the answer was very nearly anything at all.

“They will perform better
if they have something to work towards,” Frot said dismissively.  She could
hear the impatience growing in his voice.  “Come now, time is wasting.  Either
do what you were brought here for, or I may decide you were not worth making my
best commander so very discontent and give him what he asks for.”  She was
almost too miserable to respond to that, but she felt a spike of satisfaction
and turned, letting Forge see her utter disgust in him with the suffering
captured children just behind her.  But it was Frot’s next words that took away
all expression from the big brute’s face.  “Along with anyone else who wants a
piece.” 

If she could speak, she
would have said, “I told you so.”  But the thought of being anyone’s for the
taking in this place was a horror for later.  Another wave of pain and hunger
beat at her until she forgot everything but the children.  She turned back and
looked at them.  She recognized all of them from her diplomatic studies.  Her
father had always been proud of her memory, and her gift for picking up
languages fast, even as he despaired of her ability to hold her tongue.  It
seemed fear was a better teacher than love in this case, because she did not
shout and rage at the injustice around her as she yearned to do.  She just
started interpreting, and swore as she gave the instructions and warnings that
Frot deemed necessary, that she would free these children, whatever the cost to
herself.  Some of the words came out hard; telling starving children they would
not be allowed to eat until they fought well in their first battle made her
feel like razors were scoring her mind, but she said it, because they needed to
know.  As much as she wished otherwise, she was not in a position to free them
from this nightmare so they needed to understand it.  She wanted to tell them
all that she would save them eventually, they just had to hold on. But there
was too great a chance that this was a test for her, and someone in the guards would
speak the language well enough to understand if she deviated.

When she turned to Thaos
and saw the stoic little face upturned to her, his eyes shining with a hidden
hope, she could not stop the tears from falling. So, she just ignored them, and
gave him the same directive she had given the others.  She hoped he could read
more on her face, but he did not betray himself or her if he did.

The two Baralians were
where the hunger she was feeling came from.  Sold to the death games’ representatives
by one of their own for food; they had been hungry before their slavery
started.  Now they were nearly feral, which explained the chains holding them
down when the others merely had the standard shackles.

Lara turned back to Frot,
Forge, and the rest of the guards circling them, her face striving for
serenity, even if her eyes were still wet from crying.  “These two had not
eaten in days before you bought them and brought them here.  They are mindless
with hunger and will attack anything and anyone until you feed them.”  Since
that did not receive anything but a satisfied look, she went on.  “You will be
forced to put them down soon if you do not feed them something.  And you may
lose other prisoners or guards in the process.”

Frot looked the two over
dismissively. 

Lara gritted her teeth
around the words she wished to say.  “They will hear no commands like this.”

Frot finally sighed, motioning
to one of the guards.  “Put these two in a ring with a few of our more viscous
fighters.  The Gorgon I think and the other Hortiem.  I want to see how they
fight like this.  Could be a show worthy of spectacle.”

“Or it could get a lot of
people killed,” Lara practically spit the words through her anger.  Frot gave
her a less than pleased glare and she glared back without even thinking about
it.  “They have no thoughts left but to feed.  You unchain them and they will
kill everything in their paths.  Even this young, you have to see that they are
a danger to themselves and others.”

Forge grabbed her arm in
a bruising grip and yanked her to him before Frot could speak, the anger
beginning in his eyes.  “You will hold your tongue until you are told
otherwise, or they will not be the only ones going hungry,” he growled his
warning.  She felt his sudden spike of fear and wondered at it until she heard Frot
speak.  Held in front of Forge with the base commander behind him, she could
not see his face, but heard the anger and the cruel promise in his words just
the same.

“I am beginning to think
I have been too lenient with her, Forge,” Frot said coldly.  “Do you suppose a
night in your keeping would teach her her place?”

Looking into Forge’s eyes
Lara knew her own widened in horror, before she could control her expressions. 
The big barbarian smiled down at her, but it was less the happy smile that she
was expecting.  And his eyes gave nothing away when he answered just as coldly
back.  “I will
explain
her new reality to her in ways she will not
forget.”

“See that you do,” the commander
ordered with grim satisfaction.  “Right now, get the Baralians ready to fight. 
You can have your fun later.”  Then he added almost on an aside.  “But be careful
of the merchandise.  We want her broken to heel, not dead.”