Kaitlyn O'Connor (7 page)

* * * *

Loren woke to the smell of food. She was still tired enough she might have ignored it, but her stomach didn
‟
t. She supposed she must have been fed via tubes while she was in the pod, but her last real meal was a distant memory. Lifting her eyelids, she stared at the wall a few moments and finally turned over to glance toward the door.

There was a tray of food sitting just inside her cell on the floor, having been slid through the door via a gap at the bottom. Struggling upright with the blanket wound tightly around her was a feat, but she managed it and moved to the tray, hoping the trader had left feeding instructions and she wouldn
‟
t discover the food was as alien as the place she was in.

Her hopes were dashed when she
‟
d looked the food over, but it smelled appetizing enough she picked it up and moved back to the bed with it.

Her unconscious hope that the men had had their fill of staring at her were also dashed as she settled to carefully testing the food. She was peripherally aware of the traffic past her cell and the men pressing themselves to the bars to stare at her, but she
‟
d, also unconsciously, made 29

the decision to pretend they weren
‟
t there. She wasn
‟
t certain of just how long she could hold on to her sanity otherwise, because it made it impossible to forget, even for a handful of moments, that one of them—or possibly more—would be allowed to get to her when he finished bashing some other poor soul
‟
s head in.

Both aspects of her situation were disturbing on a primal level. They were all humanoid, just as she was, and similar to what was familiar to her, and yet too different for her to face the prospect of being fucked by any one of them with anything approaching acceptance, let alone anticipation. She didn
‟
t think if it had
been
human men she could have viewed it any other way—not when she was being offered up as a prize.

Human men, she thought, that could do what they did would be dangerously aggressive if they had to fight first to get their hands on a woman—especially when it was clear to her that none of the men had had any chance at all at a woman until the fish-man had bought her and the others. They wouldn
‟
t be lovers. They would be conquerors, determined to take whether she cooperated or not.

She didn
‟
t think the alien men were going to be any different at all in that respect. Their hunger was almost palpable. She wasn
‟
t deluded enough to think she was that appealing to them as an individual.

None of them saw anything but a hole to fuck when they stared at her through the bars and the bastard that had bought her had fully expected just that reaction. She was the „tease
‟
he was using to build their natural aggressions to a dangerous level so that they would put on a good show for his patrons.

Unfortunately, as scared and mentally deficient as she was because of that, it hadn
‟
t taken her long to figure out that the only way he could capitalize on it was to keep the game in play.

This
time when they went out to fight, they would have nothing on their minds beyond winning the chance to try to fuck her to death, but that aggression would be a hell of a crowd pleaser and word would spread. The next time around, fish-man would pull in even more spectators to watch.

He was alien and she knew she was gauging him as if he was human, but she didn
‟
t think she was wrong, unfortunately. She thought his words and actions had already made it clear that he thought very much like a human counterpart would—at least in some respects. His mind might work very differently in some respects, just like his appearance was drastically different, but greed seemed to be a trait that was universal.

Despite every effort not to think about it, her mind wandered after a time to the Hirachi and her offer. She didn
‟
t know if she was more humiliated that they seemed to have declined her offer or that she
‟
d made it at all. It had seemed like an uncontrollable impulse at the time, but she
‟
d come to realize it really wasn
‟
t. It had been her survival instinct kicking in, her primal understanding of nature. They not only looked like the biggest, strongest, and fiercest of the lot, they
‟
d shown a tendency to protect and her subconscious mind had registered that even though she hadn
‟
t consciously been aware of it.

It had been the most natural thing in the world to offer what she knew they wanted in exchange for the protection she needed, even if she was embarrassed because it was both demeaning to her as an individual and socially unacceptable in her own culture.

Her parents, she had no doubt, would be horrified if they
‟
d had any way to learn of it, but she realized there was little point in worrying about it. It wasn
‟
t likely they would ever know that their daughter had prostituted herself to survive—or at least offered to—despite the rigid principles they
‟
d tried to instill in her.

30

The worst of it was that she didn
‟
t think she would
‟
ve felt the least bit ashamed of it if they
‟
d taken her up on it—if they hadn
‟
t made it clear that
they
thought the offer was shameful and had been embarrassed for her.

Hurt and anger, spawned mostly by defensiveness, flickered through her at the reminder.

They had to see just by looking at her that she wasn
‟
t capable of defending herself against what she was up against! If the situation had been different, she might have had some chance of using her skills or her wit to overcome her lack of strength and the disadvantage of being about half the size of most of them! She had nothing to work with, though! Nothing! Even if she could figure out a way to escape, there was no place to run
to
for safety! Not that she could discern, at any rate.

Surely, if there
‟
d been any sort of lawfulness about the damned place, neither slave auctions nor gladiator fights would
‟
ve been allowed? She was trapped in a den of thieves and murderers!

The gladiators probably weren
‟
t any worse than the men that were free to walk around—maybe not even as bad.

It crossed her mind to wonder if there was any chance in hell of getting her hands on one of the ships she
‟
d seen and escaping, but only in a fantasy sense. Getting out when she would have to run the gauntlet of men just panting to get their hands on her and fuck her blind was an insurmountable obstacle as far as she could see. And even if she managed to survive that and get out when she knew the fish-man must have security, there was the space station itself—filled with men. It wasn
‟
t likely a naked female would make it very far—not close enough to a ship to smell freedom.

And then there was the technology of the ships themselves. She didn
‟
t doubt that she could figure out how to fly one, given time, but she wouldn
‟
t
get
that time. Setting aside every other obstacle, even taking into account that she had some familiarity with some alien technology since she
‟
d spent nearly five years of her life studying it, she didn
‟
t think the odds were in her favor that she would manage to get a ship with technology she already knew and it could take a very long time for her to figure it out if it wasn
‟
t already at least a little familiar.

Even if she could manage all of that, though, she was an engineer, not an astronomer or a cosmologist! How would she find her way home?

She wouldn
‟
t. As sick as that made her, she knew she could never manage that. It was extremely doubtful that she could manage any of her fantasy scenario of escape, but she also knew that there could be some remote possibility, that she might discover them given time.

Finding her way back to Earth just wasn
‟
t possible—unless the fates smiled upon her and she happened to grab a ship with the coordinates already in the computer.

She thought that was unlikely in the extreme, however, even though the thought made her heart leap with hopefulness briefly. There was no getting around the fact that the aliens hadn
‟
t seemed to recognize them as a species familiar to them, and that seemed to indicate they weren
‟
t in the habit of visiting Earth.

On one level, that was comforting. It meant that, aside from the lizard-man who
‟
d captured her, Earth people were relatively safe, but it also meant she had to try to accept that she was never going back. Whatever happened, she was never going to see home or her parents again.

Those thoughts made her feel like crying but, in the scheme of things, she thought that would probably be the most useless excuse for letting down her guard and making herself vulnerable—more vulnerable than she was already.

31

Loren dawdled over her meal, not only because her thoughts were distracting her, but because she was wary of the food and because she hoped the men would tire of staring at her and she could put the tray back near the door for pickup without running the risk of being grabbed and slammed against the bars. Although she made it a point not to look directly at them, however, for fear she
‟
d encourage them, she watched the opening out of the corner of her eye for an opportunity.

Not that any of them appeared to need any sort of encouragement from her! They didn
‟
t seem nearly as interested in their own food as they were in amusing themselves by staring at the

„treat
‟
Lecur had bought them.

Unfortunately, the Hirachi weren
‟
t among those who clustered at her door or shuffled past, craning their necks to get a good look as they did. In point of fact, there wasn
‟
t as much traffic period as there had been the night before. A group of red-skinned aliens elbowed their way to the door and held that position throughout most of her meal, ignoring the attempts of the others to dislodge them.

“You be my woman, little ting, I take care,” one of them called out to her. It was the tone that snagged her attention. Unlike the „offers
‟
the others—except for the Hirachi—had flung at her, it didn
‟
t sound like a threat. It was said quietly, almost soothingly—for her, not for the entertainment of the others.

Her pulse leapt. Should she consider it, she wondered? She certainly needed
someone
and the Hirachi hadn
‟
t exactly jumped at her offer.

It unnerved her so thoroughly when she finally flicked a look at the red-skinned aliens, though, that it wiped the thought completely from her mind. They didn
‟
t just look
more
savage than the Hirachi, they looked like demons! She didn
‟
t get more than a vague impression of the faces once she
‟
d spied the horns curling on either side of their heads and caught the full impact of sunburn red skin and bodies so massively muscular and ropy they almost looked more as if they
‟
d been peeled of flesh than that their skin was that color.

Feeling her eyes widen with horror, she glanced away quickly. “That
‟
s…That
‟
s…So kind of you to offer,” she managed faintly. “I already told Balen, though….”

The comment—or her reaction—pissed them off. They pushed away from the bars abruptly and left. She didn
‟
t know whether to be relieved or not. She
needed
allies! She wasn
‟
t trying to make enemies.

And the worst of it was she didn
‟
t know that any of the Hirachi would take her up on her offer!

She was still berating herself for her cowardice and lack of judgment when she caught a flash of yellow skin at the door. The Hirachi were the only aliens with that particular color.

Relief immediately assailed her. One of them, at least, had come back. She had another chance.

Maybe this time she wouldn
‟
t screw it up!

32

She glanced that way as casually as she could although every muscle in her body had tensed.

It made her belly flutter when she saw it was Dakaar. He smiled at her a little tentatively and she felt both better and worse—better than he still seemed inclined to smile at her and worse because she knew she must have really insulted him. “I thought you were angry with me,” she said questioningly.

His smile fell. He frowned and she wondered abruptly if her speech patterns sounded as choppy and hard to understand as theirs did to her. “I no angry. Thought you misunderstand.”

Loren slipped off the bed awkwardly, trying to balance the tray and hold on to her blanket at the same time. Unfortunately, she
‟
d succeeded in getting up without exposing herself before it occurred to her that she
‟
d missed an opportunity to try to seduce him with her feminine charms!

Damn it!

She considered „losing
‟
it when she knelt to set the tray down at the door, but discovered she simply couldn
‟
t bring herself to do anything so blatant. When she straightened, she saw that the others had joined him. “I don
‟
t think I did,” she said a little stiltedly, forcing herself to move a little closer. “You said that you would protect me—because it
‟
s the way of your people to protect the weak. And I said that I would…take care of your needs the best I could.” A blush mounted her cheeks at the lie that trembled on her tongue. “It
‟
s the custom of my people. A man offers what he has to offer and a woman offers what she has in return.”

It wasn
‟
t until she
‟
d voiced it that it occurred to her it wasn
‟
t a lie. Maybe it was a very simplified version of the truth, but it was still true.

Unfortunately, it had occurred to her after she had that she wasn
‟
t in any position to offer the only thing she had in trade. “I meant it. I still mean it…but….” She broke off. “Lecur said he would give me to the winner of the games. There
‟
s nothing I can do about that,” she said anxiously, hoping they
‟
d understand and not consider it a breach of promise.

On impulse, she settled her hand over Dakaar
‟
s where he gripped the bar. It was unfortunate that she noticed when she did that his fingers were webbed. It counteracted the weightless feel of delight just to feel contact with another being, making her belly drop with an unexpected rush.

“We not same, little ting. It no matter to me. Lau-ren beautiful to my eyes.”

Loren felt her chin wobble, both because he
‟
d noticed she
‟
d frozen and because he was so sweet. She met his gaze with an effort, trying to ignore the flutter of uneasiness in her belly because his eyes looked so strange to her. “I
‟
m not used to seeing…anyone that isn
‟
t the same species as I am,” she said earnestly. “That doesn
‟
t mean you aren
‟
t pleasing to me.”

She held Dakaar
‟
s gaze for a moment and then met Balen
‟
s and finally Kael
‟
s. “You look a lot like my own people.” She smiled faintly. “Except a lot bigger. There
‟
s no point in lying and saying that doesn
‟
t unnerve me, but it
‟
s mostly the size, you know?” She felt her face redden as her mind instantly leapt to the size of their cocks, but then they
were
discussing fucking! There wasn
‟
t any point in trying to whitewash it in her mind to make it more palatable! “And you
‟
re a lot more handsome than most of the men I know…uh…used to know.”

They all looked pleased but extremely skeptical—especially Kael.

“We win de game,” Balen said confidently. “None udders are as good as a Hirachi warrior.”

He looked uncomfortable as soon as the boast left his mouth. “Mean you no worry. We take care ob little ting. No let udders touch.”

Dakaar pushed a folded blanket through the bars. “Bring you dis.” He pointed to the barrier she
‟
d erected for privacy. “Make more comfortable.”

33

Loren took the offering automatically, but then she merely stared at it in dismay, knowing he would be doing without a blanket if he gave it to her. It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse it, but she realized as soon as she met his gaze that it would wound him, and probably embarrass him, if she refused it. She smiled with an effort when she looked up at him. “This is so sweet! So thoughtful! It makes me want to cry.”

Dismay flickered across his face. “No happy gift?”

Loren sniffed the urge back and smiled. “It
‟
s a
wonderful
gift—all the more because I know you
‟
re going to be cold without it!”

Balen shoved something white through the bars. When she looked down, she saw it was a comb, not wonderfully fashioned, but useable. It looked as if it had been made from some animal bone. He had to have made it for himself. He couldn
‟
t have much to work with, which probably meant he
‟
d spent a great deal of time on it—and probably also meant that he was going to do without. Her chest tightened with emotion. She struggled with it, smiling at him gratefully. “I made dis. Make special one for little ting later. Pretty. Work better. Now dis all Balen have. Not good, but make hair pretty.”

“Thank you so much!” Loren gasped, struggling with the urge to kiss him. She
‟
d had to use her fingers to try to get the tangles out of her hair after she
‟
d bathed and she knew it had to be a wreck—especially since it had grown so long! She hadn
‟
t wanted to think about the implication—that she
‟
d been in that pod for months, but there was no other explanation for the fact that her hair was so much longer than it had been.

Kael shouldered Dakaar out of the way and held up something unrecognizable—at least,
she
drew a blank. She could see that he
‟
d fashioned it from a piece of his blanket and pieces of his loincloth because there were thin leather ties attached to it and the moment she recognized them, her gaze had flickered to his loincloth.

She took it, studied it without comprehension, and finally looked up and smiled brightly.

“Thank you so much! This was so thoughtful!”

His face darkened. “Cover
tup
,” he said uncomfortably, pointing toward her crotch and then indicating his loincloth. “Udders no stare at pretty ting den, yes?”

Loren felt her face heat but delight filled her. She chuckled, examining the gift far more appreciatively when it dawned on her that it was a loincloth, and then grinned at him. “Nobody gets to look at my
tup
from now on but you guys!” she said teasingly.

Their reaction startled her, unnerved her more than a little, but also sent a heated weakness through her. All three of them looked at her with such hunger that it created a chain reaction within her.

Kael swallowed convulsively. “Touch?”

Loren had no idea whether he was just asking to touch her or if he meant he wanted to explore her „tup
‟
, but she barely hesitated a moment. Dropping the blanket, she pressed herself against the bars. She could feel a tremor in his hand when he pressed against the bars on the other side and reached through to run his hand lightly over her back. She strained up on her tiptoes to give him better access, but the difference in their height was almost as frustrating as the bars. She couldn
‟
t get close enough to press her lips to his—or any part of him.

It occurred to her, though, that now was the time to discover if there was going to be a serious problem holding up her end of their bargain and as unnerving as she found it, she stroked her hand along his belly and cupped his sex. She felt the jolt that went through him when she did, 34

but he pressed himself more tightly into her palm.

Either the damned leather made it feel more massive than she thought it ought to be or she was in serious trouble! She toyed with the idea of slipping her hand inside for a better feel, but discarded it. She didn
‟
t think she could be that bold and it might well prove to be a dangerous tease when he was already shaking with need.

He seemed to realize the futility of the entire business about the same time she did. Lifting the hand he
‟
d been exploring her back with, he smoothed her hair and touched her face. Lau-ren be mine lover?” he asked hoarsely.

“I don
‟
t know how the hell we
‟
ll manage it through the bars,” Loren muttered in frustration.

He grinned shakily. “Find way. Promise, be gentle. No hurt little ting.”

With obvious reluctance, he moved away. Dakaar and Balen promptly surged forward, but Dakaar was faster. He strained against the barrier, reaching for her. “I touch, is ok?”

Loren was shaken, a little stunned, and thoroughly confused when they left. It was hard to reconcile the reality of the Hirachi—or at least, Kael, Dakaar, and Balen—with their fierce appearance and frightening strength and size. They
‟
d been so needy they
‟
d been shaking with it and they
‟
d still managed to restrain themselves enough to keep from bruising her. In point of fact, none of the three had done much more than stroke their hands over her back and along her sides. None of them had touched her breasts or her sex.