Wicked Beloved

Wicked Beloved

by

Susanne Saville

Copyright © 2012 by Susanne Saville

All rights reserved. No part of this book may
be used or reproduced in any manner without permission, excepting
brief quotes used in reviews.

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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. All names,
characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously and not to be confused with fact. Any
resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons,
living or dead, is merely coincidence.

CHAPTER
ONE

Dzer-Jin Vonn, predator-class assassin,
still could not believe he had allowed himself to be dragged inside
Kefu port’s chattel shelter. Slaves from across the universe could
be found here, and for a fraction of their market value, because
these were the pre-owned ones, the ones who had been given up for
one reason or another, the ones nobody wanted at auction. Lagi had
begged Dzer-Jin to come shopping with him, and for their
friendship’s sake he’d complied. Now he regretted it.

Pleas followed their progress down the
cage-lined aisles.

“
I’m good. I am, I’m
good.”

“
I’ll make you feel so, so
special, baby.”

He shut his ears to the imploring cries. If
the poor things didn’t convince someone of their merit, they’d be
euthanized when their allotted time expired. He was certain death
was kinder when it came unannounced. His assignments never suffered
this sort of agony. They never knew what hit them. He hated the
shelter.

Lagi was interacting with an Oide girl now.
Like all her species, she had fine bones. Easily broken.
Musculature unfit for fighting. Not a threat. Decorative, though.
Purple stripes zigged across her skin.

She was telling Lagi what a good servant she
would be for his latest hetaira, for both of them when he returned
from long flights. Not that she could really say otherwise.

Attention wandering, Dzer-Jin let his gaze
drift down the row of cages. A couple of barred doors down sat a
female who appeared surprisingly un-alien. No stripes, no extra
limbs, no antennae. She could walk the streets of Kefu and be taken
for a native.

Only the unique color of her hair might make
someone look twice. Thick, heavy, fiery orange waves of it fell to
her shoulders. He couldn’t tell what color her eyes were, but they
appraised him coldly in much the same way he was assessing her, and
he found that both unexpected and amusing.

At his grin, her eyes widened. She
immediately looked away. Her gaze repeatedly darted up to his and
fled back to the floor while her cheeks turned a mottled pink.
Unlike the others, she had said nothing this entire time. He
started toward her cage and she scuttled to its back wall at his
approach.

Drawn up in a ball with her arms hugging her
knees, she peeked at him from beneath her bangs. Large bones. Well
nourished. Muscles evident but lacking tone. Unlikely threat. Which
made her earlier arrogance all the more interesting. She still had
spirit though unable to defend herself. Foolhardy. But
interesting.

She shifted, seeming uncomfortable under his
relentless gaze, and he recognized the small square box of a
universal translator embedded in the collar encircling her throat.
She wasn’t local to any of the nine systems then. He wondered how
far she’d been brought.

He waited. Hunting had taught him patience.
Still she refused to interact with him. Her wary eyes watched,
waiting for him to make the first move.

“
Hey,” he said softly and
gave her a small—he hoped unaggressive—smile.

She blinked rapidly, several times in
succession, and he had the distinct impression she was startled, or
maybe bewildered, by his greeting. Perhaps her translator wasn’t
operating correctly.

Lagi bounded over, colliding against him
with the playfulness of a small child. “What have you found?” He
leaned toward the front of the cage and the female pressed herself
back against the wall in response. He made a disappointed, chiding
sound and wrinkled his nose. “Oh, no, you don’t want that. With
your appetites, you need something with more life in it.”

Dzer-Jin shook his head. His own hetaira
I’eke provided enough of a coital outlet, and pets required the
sort of commitment he could not promise. “I’m not shopping here,
you are.”

Lagi pulled a mocking face. “Oh, that’s
right, you’re an uncompromising Palatin. You never play with used
or broken toys.”

“
I’m neither used nor
broken.” The girl had spoken. Her voice was pleasant, low and
reserved. But her eyes were glaring daggers at Lagi. She certainly
wasn’t broken. No slave was allowed to look at anyone like
that.

Lagi turned and smirked at him. “Looks like
she’s just your type then.” He patted Dzer-Jin on the back before
returning to the cage of the female with the purple stripes.

The flame-haired girl watched him go then
swung her attention back to Dzer-Jin. Her eyes trapped his in a
direct, unwavering stare and, still on her knees, she crawled to
the front of her cage.

They were close now. The bars separating
them would be of little hindrance to his blade, were she a target.
He watched the muscles of her throat work as she swallowed, noted
the slight tremor in her hands. The smell of her fear was different
from what he was accustomed to, but still a sweet scent. He
wondered if she knew precisely how much she had to fear.

She cleared her throat.
“Listen. I’ll make a bargain with you. You don’t hurt me, and I’ll
be the most perfect slave you’ve ever had, you’ve ever even
seen
.” Desperation
tinged her tone. Despite her previously aloof attitude, she was
indeed conscious of the precariousness of her continued
existence.

A polite cough at his elbow made him turn.
The shelter clerk stood there, eyes locked on the crest embroidered
at Dzer-Jin’s shoulder denoting his senior rank and unparalleled
number of kills, before looking up at him with a subservient and
ingratiating smile. “I don’t think you want this one, Palatin. Let
me show you what we have in—”

Dzer-Jin, having already thought of six
different ways to terminate the man, interrupted. “What is
she?”

“
Tellurian.”

“
Never heard of
them.”

“
They’re a fairly new
discovery. Tellurian females’ main selling point is their ability
to accommodate sexual partners without needing to be aroused
themselves. You don’t have to do a thing. And you don’t have to
wait for them to go into heat, either, unlike those cheap
primitives from Yeoun. Tellurians are always, if not enthusiastic,
at least available in one way or another.”

“
I see.”

“
Couple that with the
distance involved in importing them, and you won’t be surprised to
learn they’re one of the market’s most expensive species. You’ll
rarely see them in a shelter. I suppose she’s rather a bargain, for
a Tellurian.”

“
Then why discourage her
sale?”

“
She is … recalcitrant.”
Dzer-Jin lifted an eyebrow and the clerk continued, “Untrainable.
Uncooperative. She won’t even scream properly.”

“
How many days has she
left?”

“
A few. But the
gladiatorial transport arrives tomorrow and I expect they’ll buy
her. They always take untamable Tellurians when they can get
them.”

Dzer-Jin frowned. Take them to be torn apart
for the crowd’s enjoyment. He felt such sloppy executions to be a
personal affront.

“
How many
owners?”

“
Just the one.” The clerk
paused and sighed. “She’s been checked by our vet, she’s in perfect
health, but in the interest of full disclosure you’re going to want
to see her skin.” He unlocked the cage and ordered her
out.

For a moment it looked like she might
refuse. Then she crawled out the door and started to rise. Wincing
with the effort, she wobbled on unsteady legs.

Without thinking, Dzer-Jin caught her elbow
to support her. She recoiled from the touch, lost her tenuous
balance and would have collapsed if he hadn’t stepped behind her to
grasp her other arm as well. She held herself rigid, her back
stiffly arcing away from his front, obviously trying not to touch
him and yet dependent on his support to stay upright. He looked
down at the top of her head and wondered what she was thinking.

“
You really shouldn’t
touch the merchandise.” The clerk tut-tutted.

“
You really should let the
merchandise out more often. There’s not room enough to stand inside
that cage.” Dzer-Jin glanced down at the female again. “Steady
now?”

He could barely hear her whispered, “Yes,
thank you.” Nevertheless, he released her and stepped aside.

The clerk ordered her to remove her long,
loose shelter gown. She glanced at Dzer-Jin, and her cheeks once
again had turned that mottled pink color. The clerk repeated his
order, his voice strident now, and clapped his hands together. She
winced at the sharp slap his palms made and, bowing her head, began
working the large, flat buttons until the gown fell away and pooled
soundlessly at her feet.

“
It’s her back, mostly,”
the clerk explained, but Dzer-Jin could see that.

Cringing in on herself, she had turned her
back toward him. Her pale hide was marred by a vast array of cuts,
welts, bruises and burns spanning from her shoulder blades down to
the backs of her knees. The oldest injuries were about four months
healed, he guessed. The newest only just beginning to scab over. At
least nothing looked infected.

For something that didn’t want to be hurt,
she certainly had collected a lot of wounds. From their appearance
and design, he reckoned she had a high pain threshold. Normally
that would make her a good blood-play partner, another addition to
her value.

As he closed the small distance between
them, he knew she heard his approach because her entire body
flinched like she expected to be struck. He stopped but she
remained in that cowed position, head ducked and shoulders hunched.
As he watched, a tiny shiver ran through her frame and her flesh
pebbled.

Wondering whether she was frightened or
cold, he leaned toward her and inhaled her scent. Although she
awaited mistreatment, he did not detect fear as he had earlier. She
was nervous, yes. But more…resigned.

When he didn’t move away, yet didn’t touch
her, she turned and raised a trembling arm to shield her face while
glancing up at him. Her eyes were dark blue, like jewels. He gave
her his best nonthreatening smile and caught the scent of her
blossoming hope even as her eyes warmed. Then the clerk barked a
reprimand, swatting her defensive arm down, and she cringed
away.

“
Did I ask for your help?”
Dzer-Jin let a sharp edge curl through his words. He glared at the
clerk.

It was the clerk’s turn to wince. “My
apologies, Palatin. I only wished you to have an unobstructed view.
If you like, I can have her restrained.”

“
No, I’ve seen
enough.”

Dzer-Jin crouched down, picked up her
garment, and stood, drawing it up her body and helping her get her
arms back inside the sleeves. She re-fastened the buttons as
quickly as her shaking fingers could manage. Head bowed, she never
looked at him.

As he watched her, he had the strangest urge
to shield her from…he wasn’t sure what. Possibly himself. She was
obviously ignorant of what he was, to let his mere smile kindle
such hope inside her.

Even allowing for her unfamiliarity with the
insignia he wore, the poor alien had no sense of character. If she
would willingly offer to obey to the likes of him, she would easily
make the offer to someone who would abuse her until she expired. Of
course, that was if the gladiatorial games didn’t get her first.
She would not last long there, that was certain.

No, the Tellurian had little chance of
survival. Which was how it should be. The weak died and the strong
survived. Ensconcing her in his flat would not only be a waste of
his resources, it would be ignoring natural order.