EnforcersCraving (5 page)

“So he’s agreed to help you for an undisclosed price?”

Chelsea nodded, hesitated for a moment, then decided to opt
for honesty. “I suspect the price is sex.”

Sorcha flopped back into her chair. “What are you going to
do?”

“That’s the three-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it? I have
no desire to prostitute myself to get what I want but how can I live here like
this when Tansy could be on the auction block at this very minute?”

“Are you really willing to sacrifice yourself for her?”

“I don’t know,” Chelsea answered truthfully. “I’d like to
think I have the courage to do what it takes to save Tansy but my reaction to
Tarkan sent me for a loop. I’m the holdback kind of girl, I don’t even kiss on
the first date. I’m ashamed to admit it but I let him touch me in an intimate
way. And in that moment it was…”

Sorcha quirked an eyebrow. “Good?”

“Glorious.” Chelsea sighed. “I’ve never felt anything like
it and I’m worried it’s some alien-pheromone thing and my reactions aren’t my
own.”

“Can’t you just talk to him about it?”

Well she could, if she trusted him. “If he’s the kind of guy
who would barter with a women for sex, do you really think I could rely on him
for a straight answer?”

“Oh. Probably not.”

There was no probably about it. Chelsea wasn’t even sure she
could trust him to follow through, even if she did put out. A part of her, the
cowardly part, prayed she would never have to find out. “Hopefully Tollanare or
one of the Council members will help and I won’t have to deal with the
Enforcer.”

The following week was an exercise in frustration for
Chelsea. Every morning she and Sorcha helped each other dress in chemise,
corset and bustled day gowns before heading down to breakfast. They spent their
mornings being introduced to their new world and the amount of information was
boggling. Ivasta was ruled by six families and each family had a member on the
Council of the four main townships in Ivasta. The women were educated in
township politics, social mores, and general Ivastan history. The schism
between the two continents and the antipathy toward Brightstar was made clear
but there was only a passing reference to the plight of women on either
continent—and nobody was interested in answering any of Chelsea’s questions
about Tansy.

The afternoons were set aside for some of the most boring
activities Chelsea had ever had to endure. Knitting, embroidering, reading and
writing were all introduced as important feminine skills. Some of the women had
a grasp of these accomplishments—Sorcha turned out to be a knitting whiz—but
Chelsea had never had a knack for crafty pursuits. After day four of afternoon
torture, she gathered up her floor-length skirts and skulked off to the library
where she lurked every afternoon after that, grateful that her translator chip
extended to the written word.

The evenings were a different kind of torture. At six o’clock
without fail, Clemense would come into their room expecting them to be washed
and robed. Then Chelsea had to sit through a good half hour of having her hair
pulled, twisted and pinned into some intricate design, complete with ornaments,
and having her face powdered and painted.

Next came the corset, an item she’d tried to discard but the
scandalized Clemense wouldn’t hear of it. It seemed odd to Chelsea that going
without a corset was shocking, but wearing a dress cut so low she was afraid to
lean over seemed perfectly acceptable. Not to mention the fact that a “lady”
never wore underpants of any kind.

After the corset lacing, which seemed to get tighter and
tighter each night, she was swathed in a beautiful, expensive, impractical gown
of lace over silk. Regardless of the dress design or color, three things always
stayed the same. The neckline was always too low, the waist too tight and the
hem too long not to walk with care and concentration.

In the evenings they were expected to attend a formal dinner,
with a different dinner partner each night. Once the meal was completed they
moved into a separate room to mix over drinks and what passed for tea and
coffee in Sapphire.

Every night Chelsea tested the waters, trying to find
someone who could help her find Tansy but all she received in return were
deflections and patronizing hand holding. Half the men refused to listen and
the other half pretended to listen so they could peer down her cleavage. By
night five she’d decided Tarkan was going to be her best hope. By night seven
she had a plan.

Chelsea’s escape from Addestet House turned out to be easier
than it should have been. After a week of monitoring twenty-seven docile women,
the guards had transitioned from alert and wary to bored and disinterested. Chelsea
and Sorcha made it their business to chat to anyone who would give them time,
so it didn’t take long to work out where the lake was, how to get there and
where and when to dodge the guards.

As the women made the post-breakfast trek to their
classrooms, Chelsea slipped out a side door with Sorcha hot on her heels. The
Boston native happily volunteered to act as escort and potential troubleshooter
but they slipped unmolested through the kitchens and crossed the estate grounds
in tree-hugging bursts. The long skirts were a hindrance and Chelsea was
further hampered by the confining grip of the corset and her inability to take
a deep breath.

“This dress code is killing me,” she whispered to Sorcha. “How
a society that has access to space-travel and translator chips can compel women
to dress like an Edwardian princess beggars the imagination.”

Sorcha snickered, pressing herself against a nearby tree
trunk. “The dresses are a bit much, I’ll grant you, and having a lady’s maid
freaks me out, but I love the half-boots.” They sprinted for the next set of
trees. “In fact, I might even be happy here if they gave me enough boots.”

“What about the prospective husbands?” Chelsea kept her
voice low as her eyes scanned their surroundings.

“Fuck that. No amount of footwear is worth chaining myself
to any of the idiots we’ve met so far.”

“Amen to that, sister.”

Most of the councilmen and land holders they’d met so far
were either professional politicians or snake-oil salesman in nice suits. They
all made Chelsea feel like she was being measured for a marriage certificate or
a nice condo in an out-of-the-way location. She figured what Tarkan was
offering would be a lot less than a walk down the aisle, but the transaction of
one deed for another seemed a lot more honest and expedient than the social
chess match that was going on every night at Addestet House.

Chelsea and Sorcha came to the back wall of the perimeter
fence and hiked up their skirts in a manner that would have given Clemense a
heart attack. Chelsea eyed the old gnarled tree that she was about to climb and
prayed the young gardener they’d pumped for information hadn’t been lying to
impress them. As Chelsea dithered, Sorcha stepped forward and began scaling the
tree slow and steady, testing for handholds before she moved up. Clearly this
was a familiar task for the Bostonian and as Chelsea watched she wished she’d
been more of a tomboy and less of a girly-girl growing up. She took a deep
breath and prepared herself to follow Sorcha’s footsteps—nothing ventured and
all that.

The climb up the tree was easier than she’d anticipated but
the scramble over the high concrete fence and the uncoordinated slither down the
other side was as undignified as she imagined it would be. Sorcha broke the
fall as best she could and the stupid long skirts and petticoats offered
Chelsea a bonus level of padding and protection.

Once they set themselves to rights they headed off, skirting
the edges of town, walking arm-in-arm as though they had every right to be
there. There were enough women in the township to give them good odds at not
being recognized as long as nobody looked too closely, and they tried not to
draw attention to themselves by furtive behavior. Chelsea was a firm believer
in the “fake it ’til you make it” philosophy so they strolled along with
purpose but not speed.

When they reached the path that would take Chelsea to the
lake Sorcha leaned in and gave her a hard hug. “Be careful.”

“Are you sure you’re okay to sneak back in?”

Sorcha winked. “Nothing to it. Send word if you need me.”

Chelsea nodded and squeezed her new friend. She didn’t have
the heart to mention that by the end of the day she might not be in a position
to send for anybody.

Grinning with bravado she didn’t feel, Chelsea stepped off
the marbled walkway and followed the wide, sandy path that led into the lush
forest.

The foliage was thick and it took a moment for her eyes to
adapt to the cool shadows. Strange birdcalls rippled through the canopy and she
caught flashes of color out of the corner of her eye but the leaves were too
thick for her to recognize any true shapes. It was creepy, walking along a
track of diminishing width while unseen creatures called out to each other from
the bush. She wasn’t averse to nature at all but the nature here was a whole
bundle of don’t-know-what-to-expect. And her surroundings were enough like a rainforest
that she began imagining the alien equivalent of a giant boa constrictor
lurking in the trees, waiting to drop on her unsuspecting head.

Just as that not-comforting thought grew large in her mind a
man stepped out of nowhere and blocked the path. Chelsea screamed like she’d
been shot and her heart banged hard enough to make an escape from her ribs. She
had a moment of panic and she actually flexed her knees in preparation to turn
and run but she caught herself just in time. Wielding a ruthlessness she never
thought to own, she squashed her fear deep down inside her and imagined she
actually had a spine. Like it or not, this was her best and perhaps only chance
to find Tarkan and therefore her best chance to save Tansy.

The stranger crossed his arms. “Can I help you?”

She sized him up. He was big like Ari and Tarkan, and he
looked familiar enough that she thought he might have been one of the Enforcers
on the shuttle rescue. His silky, shoulder-length mane was mid-brown and he had
startling golden eyes. He maintained a relaxed pose but the sense of imminent
action hovered pretty close to the surface.

She took a deep breath, hating the fact that she didn’t know
who to trust, hating that she didn’t have enough information to function safely
in this world. “I’m looking for Tarkan…” Bloody hell, what was his last name? “Benny-something.”

The stranger cracked a half smile. “Tarkan Benestaire?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

“And why would I allow you access to the lake to see a man
whose name you can’t quite remember?”

She stepped forward, not allowing herself to be intimidated
by the fact that he was a foot taller than her and twice as wide. “Look, I’ve
had a shitty week.” Not to mention the fact that her feet hurt and her corset
pinched like a psychotic scorpion. “Nobody wants to listen to me, or help me in
the way that I need. I had to sneak out of the dormitory to come here and I don’t
know how much time I have before someone comes looking for me.”

She took a breath and tried not to sound so whiny. “Tarkan
said he’d help me. He said if I needed him I could find him at the lake every
morning after breakfast. So here I am.”

The stranger’s posture relaxed and his half grin broke out
into a smile full of sunshine. “Yes, here you are. My name’s Kaelum.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Or at least she hoped she would be. “Will
you let me through?”

“I’ll do better than that. Tarkan and Ari would have my hide
if I sent you down to the lake unescorted.”

He turned slightly to the side, lifted his head and made a
low trilling sound. After a few moments the tree canopy rustled and a flying
lizard came hurtling out of the trees. Chelsea screamed again, tucking herself
into a ball on the ground and wrapping her arms around her head. Her gasps were
harsh and loud in her ears and it wasn’t until her breathing started to slow
that she realized everything had gone quiet.

Peering around the crook in her elbow she saw Kaelum
standing there, watching her as though she might sprout a second head at any
moment. The offending lizard sat on his outstretched arm.

“It’s all right, Chelsea, you can stand up.” And damned if
he wasn’t using the kind of voice people normally reserve for scared animals
and fractious children. He gestured to the scaled monstrosity on his arm. “This
is Skalah, he’ll guide you down to the lake. Don’t be frightened.”

Chelsea blew out a breath and tried not to look as
humiliated as she felt. “Sorry.” She shrugged. “Everything is so different here
it’s hard to have a normal reaction to anything.”

“No problems.” He nodded toward the lizard. “You’ve never seen
a dragonet before?”

Oh, not a lizard. “No, we don’t have anything like his kind
on my world.”

Kaelum gestured her forward. “Come closer.”

Chelsea closed half the distance but stopped far out of the
dragonet’s reach. He was about three meters long from head to tail, all fine
lines and sleek angles and more like a seahorse than a lizard. His scales
ranged in color from bronze to orange to red and the wings that were currently
tucked tight against his body were an antique gold. The bottom edge of his
wings swirled with a delicate pattern that resembled peacock feathers.

“Have a good look. Skalah is a young dragonet and very
handsome.” She could hear the tease in Kaelum’s voice, but it seemed more for
the dragonet than her. “He’s happy for you too croon over him and tell him how
wonderful he is.”

Skalah made a chirping noise, bobbing his head up and down
in agreement.

Chelsea stepped a bit closer. “He understands you?”

“Yes, they’re perfectly sentient. The young ones are a bit
of a handful. They’re eager to please but their attention span isn’t what it
could be. We use them as runners, ferrying messages or smaller packages and in
your case Skalah will act as your guide. They talk to the dragons but not to
us.”

Skalah was looking at her, his orange eyes bright and
inquisitive. He seemed friendly enough. “Can I touch him?”

“Yes. Stand in front of him and go slow, let him get
acquainted with your scent. And when you pet him, make sure you run your hand
from head to tail. His scales are sharp if you run against them.”

Chelsea lifted her hand, allowing Skalah to sniff and nuzzle
her skin before turning her hand to stroke lightly down his head and neck. His
skin was leathery but soft, not dry and scaly as she’d expected. She stroked
again and on the third pass the dragonet shivered, lifted his wings slightly
away from his body and leaned into her hand, closing his eyes and chirruping
softly to himself.

“Wow, he’s pretty easy isn’t he?”

Kaelum snorted. “He’s young and there’s a beautiful woman petting
him like he’s something special. I don’t know any male, dragonet or Gemarran,
who wouldn’t purr under those circumstances.” He stepped back, taking the
dragonet out of her reach and moving his arm so he could address Skalah
directly. “If you really want to impress the lady, wake up and do your job.”

Skalah shook himself, opened his eyes and hissed at Kaelum,
showing a sharp row of teeth that were clearly designed for ripping and
tearing. Chelsea jumped back, crossing her arms over her body and trying not to
think about how close her hands had been to those sharklike teeth.

Kaelum ignored the hissing and gave Skalah his instructions.
“Take Chelsea to Benmonth and Tarkan but make sure you stay high on the beach. I
don’t want her getting close to the other dragons. And don’t let any of the
other Enforcers approach her, understand?’

Skalah trilled and bobbed his head up and down. Without
warning he launched himself from his perch on Kaelum’s arm, using his strong
hind legs to push off. The moment he was clear Skalah snapped his wings open
and pumped lazily, hovering just above their heads.

Chelsea felt her mouth drop open but she couldn’t quite
summon the presence of mind to close it. Skalah was breathtaking in flight, his
wings sparkling in the dappled sunlight. For the first time since she’d come to
this planet Chelsea felt a surge of pure, unadulterated joy.

On impulse she bounded forward and shouted up at her guide.
“Skalah, you are a very handsome dragonet and I am blown away by your
awesomeness.” He dive-bombed her and she laughed, turning back to Kaelum to
share the joke. He shook his head in mock reproof, waving her off.

Skalah led her farther along the path and she stuck close
behind him. She’d been listening to Kaelum’s instructions; he’d told the
dragonet not to let her near the dragons or the Enforcers and she’d heard it
for the warning it was. She had no intension of being caught where she shouldn’t
be, nor did she intend to make herself an easy target.

Channeling Tansy, Chelsea straightened her back, lifted her
head and acted like she knew exactly what she was doing and where she was
going. She strode along the sandy track as it snaked its way between thick
grass and lush foliage as if she did this every day. Her aplomb lasted for a
good five minutes, right up until the moment they broke through the tree line
and she got her first look at the lake. And its occupants.