“Hey,” Eland whispered. He carefully lifted his hand and gestured to the door that half hid him.
If it were possible for the other guy to go any more still, he did. Then he slowly turned his head, and Eland saw the gleam of Shareem-blue eyes.
The two stared at each other for a moment, neither saying a word. Then the other Shareem unfroze and moved down the alley toward Eland. Though the Shareem was easily as big as Eland, he had a way of walking, deliberately hunched over, that made him look smaller and weaker than he was.
Eland thought he had met all the Shareem at least once, but he’d never seen this one. He knew in his gut, though, who the man was.
Eland moved aside as the Shareem caught the door and slid inside in one smooth motion. He closed the door just as smoothly.
The next thing Eland saw was a small square of light held in the Shareem’s hand. It illuminated the stone walls and metal staircase, and the Shareem, who pushed back his hood to reveal pale hair woven into a tight tail.
“Rees?” Eland asked.
“That’s me,” Rees said in a voice that was both nonchalant and amazingly confident. “Who are
you
, and where the hell are we?”
***
“Reports are that last night a male matching the description of a Shareem was spotted in this area,” the patroller said to Jeanne. “You see anything?”
Jeanne shook her head. “I sleep hard. I work at the docks, and we start early. I’m pretty much dead to the world in the middle of the night.”
The patroller gave her a sharp look. She’d refused to sit down, and stood in the center of Jeanne’s small front room, giving the place a once-over. “I never said what time he was seen.”
Jeanne shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Nights I’m not out with my friends I come home, eat, watch a vid or two, and go to bed. I didn’t hear or see anything before I went to bed, so I assume it was after.”
The patroller listened while her gaze took in every space in Jeanne’s living room and the kitchen in its alcove. She focused on the bedroom door.
“Mind if I search the rest of the apartment?”
Jeanne
did
mind, but again, if she argued, the patroller might come back with a large search team and take the place apart. Jeanne had found no sign herself that Eland had been there, but she hadn’t done a thorough scan, like patrollers would.
Jeanne waved her hand toward the bedroom. “Go ahead. If anyone is hiding here, I want to know about it.”
The patroller gave her a look and headed for the door, which opened to her touch. She stepped inside the bedroom, Jeanne behind her, and pulled out a handheld.
“What does that do?” Jeanne asked, hiding her nervousness.
“Looks for DNA. If someone other than you has been here, we’ll know.”
Terrific. Jeanne’s heart beat faster, and she resisted gnawing on her lip. Eland’s clothes had been gone when she’d woken. Her clothes washer had gone through two cycles, leaving her with a bunch of clean, dry towels, which she’d put away before she went to work. Eland must have used the cycle before that to wash his own clothes, all while Jeanne had been sound asleep.
In the shower, though, in the bathroom, Eland had stroked his hard, dark cock under Jeanne’s gaze until he’d come. She remembered his seed falling to the floor, sliding down the drain. Would there be evidence of that?
The patroller flashed the handheld around, checking its readings. She moved slowly through the bedroom and paused at the bed. Jeanne held her breath, but apparently the reader found nothing.
When the woman went into the bathroom, Jeanne squeezed her hands together, her nails pressing into her palms.
The handheld remained quiet as the patroller waved it over the walls, the floor, the sink, the shower, the toilet. Nothing.
Jeanne started to let out the breath she’d been holding, realized the patroller would hear it, and felt herself turning purple to contain it. The patroller didn’t notice, her gaze fixed on her handheld.
“Nothing,” the patroller said, sounding disappointed. “Looks like your place is Shareem-free.”
Jeanne tried to laugh. “Will we need our apartments sprayed for them? One dose for scorpions, one for sand roaches, another for Shareem?”
The patroller smirked. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea. What the hell were those people thinking, making creatures like them? And then letting them loose?”
“I’d never even heard of this DNAmo place until today,” Jeanne said, following the patroller back out to the living room.
Now that she’d cleared Jeanne of colluding with a fugitive, the patroller became chatty.
“Yeah, they were all about making perfect people. Which is fine when you go to the Ministry of Families and have them take anything harmful out of your DNA so your kids are all right, but they made people from scratch. Making servants to work for rich people is one thing. But creating guys who do nothing but have sex? That’s gross. Highborn women will do anything to break up their boredom. These guys went for fantastically high prices. A bunch already sold off-world too.” She shook her head, including Jeanne in her bafflement about what the rich would do.
“Sold them?” Jeanne asked, shocked. “Like slaves? That’s illegal. Bor Narga hasn’t had slavery in centuries. It was one of the first laws.”
“Exactly. DNAmo broke the most basic laws of Bor Narga. Women on the ruling council knew, but they looked the other way, because of course some of them were enjoying these Shareem on the quiet. Highborn women, I swear, are the biggest hypocrites. But a couple weeks ago, one of the Shareem escaped, and DNAmo had to admit he’d broken free. They couldn’t control him, they said. He’s dangerous and they don’t know exactly what he’ll do.”
“Shit,” Jeanne said. Was Eland this escaped Shareem? He’d certainly been fleeing and hiding. But then, if all Shareem were to be terminated, why
wouldn’t
he hide?
“That one, they think, already made it off-planet,” the patroller went on. “But when DNAmo was raided, a bunch of others escaped. We have some rounded up, but the rest scattered. They’re really smart, they say, and they could be anywhere.” The patroller’s tone became serious again. “They tie up women and force them to have sex, and they don’t think it’s wrong. That’s what DNAmo bred into them. So if you see one, do not approach. Call for a patroller immediately. All right?”
“Right,” Jeanne said fervently. “That’s good to know.”
“Thanks for being so cooperative. Makes it easier on me. I know a lot of people don’t like patrollers, but we’re just trying to do our frigging jobs.”
“No problem. I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”
“Good. See you, Jeanne.”
Jeanne nodded, and the patroller went out the door into the warm night. Jeanne locked up behind her, sank down on the couch, and put her head into her hands.
The patroller’s grim description of crazy men, built by monomaniacal scientists to bind women and take them against their will was very different from what she’d seen in Eland.
The man was walking sex, that was true. Everything he did, every word he uttered was seductive. Even begging for water had been sensual.
Though Eland had dared Jeanne to watch him, to show him herself, to be with him, at no time last night had he slammed her down and helped himself. His kisses, his touch, while strong, had been gentle. He’d been asking her every second to give in to him, but not forcing her. Mastering her but not with brutality.
He’d known how to erase every bit of his DNA from her apartment before leaving. Was that what they’d been programmed to do? So that their highborn clients wouldn’t get caught with forbidden Shareem?
Or maybe the patroller’s handheld simply didn’t know how to pick up Shareem DNA. If they were the products of many different people, maybe their DNA was different.
But Eland had indicated that he was all Bor Nargan. Every bit of him taken from Bor Nargan citizens. So the handheld must be able to discover traces.
Jeanne sighed and lowered her hands. One thing was certain—she had to find Eland before the patrollers did.
She’d help him get to safety, off-planet if she could. Despite what the patroller had said, she knew Eland wasn’t dangerous. She’d worked at the docks a while now, and had encountered dangerous men. Eland wasn’t like them at all—
he
was the victim here. Jeanne would help him any way she could.
But first, she had to find him.
Jeanne stood up, washed her face, had a quick bite of a protein bar, and went back into the hot night.
Chapter Six
Rees proved to be good at lifting food and drink when no one was looking, and he an Eland shared the meager portions in the stairs. They slept during the heat of the day and used nighttime to explore
.
Rees was tireless. He and Eland walked through miles of tunnels, swarming up and down stairs, exploring every level, Rees flashing his light around.
“What do you keep looking for?” Eland asked him after they’d lived like this a couple of days. “There’s nothing down here.”
“Sure there is. These look like old maintenance tunnels, from when everything was wired. Bet the grid is still tied into it, though.”
“Good for the grid. How about figuring out how we’re going to get off-planet and not be caught?”
Rees turned around. The light limned his face in stark lines, showing a handsome man, but not one face-sculpted into perfection. Rees was rough around the edges, as Eland was. Level threes often were hard-faced, the better for playing Dom. They looked the part.
Eland, though, wasn’t sure what level Rees was. Eland’s friends at DNAmo had been easily classified. Aiden was a level one, obsessed with everything sensual, like oils, scents, the feel of different textures. Anything to make a woman melt in his hands.
Justin and Rylan had been level twos—fun and games. They laughed and joked a lot, and had all kinds of sex games to play. They went for things like furry handcuffs and strip poker.
Level threes were far more basic. Eland’s friends Rio, Ky, and Kieran were level threes, who tended to be straightforward, dominating, and didn’t always bother with sensuality and games. They were hardcore, they liked it that way, and the women who went for them knew what they were getting.
Rees gave off signals of all three levels, and some Eland couldn’t read. Shareem were good at interpreting body language, but Eland got weird vibes from the man.
“How the hell did you escape DNAmo?” Eland asked him.
Rees shrugged as he studied a power conduit on one of the half levels. “Luck.”
“Luck, my ass. We’d been looking for a way to get out of there for years, but only you did it. I’d never even heard of you until you escaped.”
“They didn’t let me mingle much.” Rees’s back was to Eland as he examined the controls, but Eland saw his shoulders tighten. “You’re right, it was also a hell of a lot of planning.”
“Couldn’t take us with you?” Eland asked, half joking.
Rees glanced at him, his eyes in shadow, but Eland saw pain there. “You’re out now, aren’t you? I couldn’t do anything about you while I was busy saving my own ass. They were going to kill me.”
“I heard you were seriously dangerous,” Eland said, his tone skeptical.
“I am. But not to other Shareem.” Rees’s voice became a growl. “They shit on all of us.”
“Don’t worry, big guy. I’m not afraid of you.”
Rees’s bad mood evaporated. He laughed softly and turned back to the power box. “Good. Makes a nice change.”
Eland sank to a stair and folded his arms. “What, everyone’s terrified of you, are they?”
“Yep. I’m unpredictable and slightly insane. But give me some good ale, and I’m fine. Ah.” Something snapped, and then dim lights appeared up and down the stairwell.
Eland looked around, relieved to be out of the constant dark, but the power brought another worry. “You didn’t just signal everyone from the top of the hill to the lowest patrol station that someone was down here, did you?”
“Nope.” Rees closed the panel. “I’m good with electronics, which is one reason I escaped. They thought it was so much fun watching me figure out how wiring and electrics worked, until I used it to make me disappear. Well, that and the help of one brave woman. Hope she’s all right.”
“I’m sure she’s fine. The ladies always were when we finished with them. Satisfied and happy.”
“That’s true. Especially with me.”
Eland made a derisive noise. “What are you, the ultimate Shareem? They programmed a big ego into you, boyo.”
Rees shrugged. “Ego has nothing to do with it. They made
you
a level three to do certain things. They made me to do ... other things.”
Eland eyed him. “Like what?”
“Nothing I want to talk about.” Rees examined another control panel. “Wish I could use my skills with electronics to figure a way to get food without going out into the markets. Doesn’t matter how much we cover up, we stand out.”
“Cause we’re giants compared to most Bor Nargan guys,” Eland said. “I was going to pretend to be an off-worlder, but I don’t know enough to pretend. My luck, I’d run into another off-worlder who expected me to speak his language. I’d imitate him and end up saying something horrible about his grandmother. Then I’d be arrested by our patrollers
and
his.”