Illicit Desire: Outlawed Realm, Book 2 (4 page)

Good God. This was getting worse by the second. “So they could be born and used as pleasure slaves?”

“No,” Damir shot back. “You don’t understand.”

Regina matched the woman’s frown. “Actually, I do. Ever hear of Josef Mengele? He tortured countless innocents, murdering them or ruining their lives to create what he considered the perfect race.”

Color rose in Damir’s cheeks. Meelo took her hand. She pulled it away. “It was our duty to explore the infinite varieties possible within the human genome. We believed our experiments had a biological basis, so we could study and prevent any future disease. We never meant to harm anyone. In the beginning, our rulers said the babies would go to those in high office who were childless and unable to breed.”

Regina didn’t want to ask but couldn’t help herself. “Where did they go?”

Damir bowed her head. Meelo spoke haltingly. “As Lukan was our first, he remained with us until he reached what you call majority on this side. We wanted to make certain he was healthy. That he would thrive. We learned later that the others were taken after birth to an area within E4’s Pleasure Palace, where they were seen to by a team of scientists, given the shelter and nutrition they needed.”

But not love or freedom.

Damir’s hand went to her throat. “Too late we realized what our leaders really wanted. An endless supply of pleasure slaves, delivered to the rulers when they reached maturity. Our people didn’t know about any of this. Meelo and I found out by accident. By then, we weren’t able to halt the experiments.”

“That’s bull,” Regina said.

Nikoli grabbed her arm to keep her from moving closer to Damir. Regina pushed his hand away and advanced. “You continued this insanity even though you knew what was going to happen?”

“We had no choice,” she argued. “They would have destroyed Lukan if we interfered. We weren’t allowed to show him any kindness or love while he was with us, but it was there.”

Tears glistened in her dark eyes. “It’s still there. We had to save him, then and now.”

Regina regarded Lukan, again taken with his male beauty and his seeming indifference to what was going on. Damir’s obvious grief hadn’t creased his brow or brought any emotion to his handsome face. He watched her as a stranger would.

What must his childhood have been like? Had he run to them, wanting a hug with Damir and Meelo turning away or scolding him? Had he learned not to cry? Not to feel? Not to hope? Did he even know why he was on this side? Or was he so accustomed to taking orders that he hadn’t questioned the journey in the least or even cared what happened to him?

Regina fought an urge to take Lukan’s hand, assuring him everything would be better and that he was safe now. Not knowing that, she certainly couldn’t promise it. “What’s wrong with his eyes? Why can’t he tolerate light?”

“There’s far less on E4 than here or on my dimension,” Meelo explained. “After so many years at the Pleasure Palace, his eyes adjusted to that environment.”

“Why did you bring him here?”

Meelo’s attention moved to Lukan, his previous control replaced by undisguised affection for the young man, proving Lukan was more than a creation. He was Meelo’s son. “We couldn’t let him be exterminated.”

“What? Are you joking?”

“I wish he was,” Nikoli answered. He joined Regina, slipping his arm around her waist as though to keep her from moving any closer to the man or lashing out again. “Meelo and Damir learned that male slaves aren’t allowed to live past thirty. Although time moves more slowly on E4 and its inhabitants don’t age as quickly as those on my dimension or yours, E2’s rulers insist their entertainment be of a certain age. Fresh and different from those who’ve gone before. Lukan turns thirty this year. Females aren’t allowed to live beyond twenty-six, if they survive that long. Some are given to that fucking bastard Vakar.”

Nikoli’s hatred surprised Regina. He wasn’t a brutal man. The last time he’d shown this much loathing was when Andris held her in his grip, threatening to turn her, after which Andris promised to kill Nikoli, then give her the last of his blood. Her mouth went dry, rasping her words, “Who’s Vakar?”

Would he come here looking for Lukan?

Nikoli tightened his arm around her. “E2’s most powerful leader. A sadistic monster and liar. Our people looked up to him as the standard by which they measured themselves. He never showed emotion. He was always in control, so fair and objective in his dealings with the populace.”

“The Pleasure Palace on E4 was his idea,” Meelo offered.

“What does this have to do with you?” Regina asked Nikoli. “What are you supposed to help Lukan with?”

“Arez.”

Regina turned at Lukan’s voice, vibrant and deep, as powerful as his build. He crossed the room, stopping just short of Nikoli. The faint scent of lime soap wafted around him, along with something else musky and sensuous. Cologne? Or part of his genetic makeup, engineered so he’d be even more enticing. “Arez?” she asked.

Ignoring her, he spoke to Nikoli in E2’s language. Nikoli’s arm fell away from Regina’s waist. He moved to the side with Lukan, listening intently to him.

“What’s he saying?” Regina asked Damir. “Doesn’t he understand English?”

Lukan interrupted Nikoli. “Such a simple language,” he said, his accent the same as Damir’s and Meelo’s, his contempt quite clear. “No different than your pathetically simple race.”

Right. Clearly, he wasn’t as perfect as Regina had thought. “So you do understand English.”

“Of course,” Meelo said, then boasted, “Already Lukan speaks five languages from this realm.”

Damir nodded quickly. “He learned them by using the Rosetta Stone from a place called Amazon.”

“They bought him the software,” Nikoli said.

Regina blurted, “From E2 or E4?”

Nikoli pressed the back of his hand against his mouth as though to keep from laughing. “No, of course not. They ordered it when they came to this side weeks ago.”

Weeks? They hadn’t just arrived a few minutes before? What had they been doing all that time? She noticed Meelo’s and Damir’s clothing—white polo shirts and khaki pants that were well tailored and expensive. Lukan’s sunglasses weren’t cheap Foster Grants but pricey Ray Ban’s, like the ones she’d bought Nikoli. Where’d they get all that stuff? Had they moved through a portal into someone’s house just as Regina and Nikoli had done with the inventor, taking what they needed to survive? Had they stolen that individual’s credit cards and cash? “Where’d they get the money?”

Nikoli smiled. “Blackjack.”

“The game?”

Meelo nodded. “Damir and I saw how your people make great deals of money from places called casinos. So she learned how to count cards. It’s very easy. She needed no more than a few hours to understand the concept and not to win too much at once. Lukan took even less time to become an expert.”

“He taught himself to read and write before he turned three,” Damir offered. “We weren’t supposed to allow it, but he was so curious.”

Regina’s head swam. She pressed her fingers to her temple. “Why wasn’t it allowed?”

Meelo answered. “Slaves are supposed to be kept in what you call an illiterate state, as helpless as the leaders can make them so there will never be any thought of escape, only service, then death. They don’t even have names. They’re known only by their genetic code.”

“Marks that can’t be removed,” Lukan said. He pulled up his sleeve, exposing the inside of his wrist. What looked to be a series of moles formed symbols on his skin, similar to a DNA profile on this side.

Regina turned away, unable to bear the sight. In her practice, she’d treated patients whose parents brutalized them emotionally, either to bolster the parent’s own shaky self-esteem or to cripple their child’s spirit so their son or daughter would never leave home. But this? She fought a wave of revulsion. “Did you at least call him Lukan as a child?” Had they given him that small kindness?

“Arez named me, not them,” Lukan snapped, his anger barely contained. He spoke to Nikoli. “Help me now.”

Regina’s skin prickled with alarm. Although she understood Lukan’s fury at what everyone had done to him, she didn’t like seeing it. “To do what?”

He frowned at her. “Save Arez from Vakar and E4.”

“She’s one of the females who’s about to turn twenty-six,” Meelo said. “She’s among those who Vakar will have for his sole use.”

“If she dies,” Lukan warned Nikoli, “so will you. So will your woman. I’ll make certain of it.”

Regina grabbed Nikoli’s arm.

Damir moved past them, resting her hand on Lukan’s chest, speaking softly to him. “The choice to help you is Nikoli’s, not yours.”

Lukan’s jaw tightened. Although Regina knew it was impossible, he seemed to get broader, taller. She worried he’d strike the older woman.

If Damir feared the same, she didn’t show it. She seemed to know what was in Lukan’s heart.

At last, he backed away until Damir’s hand touched nothing more than air. He muttered, “I will not lose Arez. I can’t.”

The misery behind his defiance and bravado pained Regina. She recalled Nikoli’s arguments about sacrificing his life to save her from the vampires. Like Nikoli then, Lukan had given up any hope of a future now. All that mattered to him was Arez’s safety. “Who is she to you?”

He turned away, his shoulders rising and falling with his rough breathing. In the hall, the antique clock chimed. Outside, someone jogged, the sneakers slapping hard against the concrete sidewalk. A lone dog howled, followed by the swish of a car’s tires on the street.

“She saved me from death,” Lukan said at last. “She showed me mercy and kindness when no one else did.” He faced them, desire and love for Arez sparkling in his beautiful eyes, making him seem more a boy than a man. One who still needed that hug denied him so many years before. One who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted now.

“I offered her my protection and love,” he said defiantly. “I swore I’d see to her freedom.”

Chapter Three

At this hour, the place of bathing teemed with movement and sound. Water gushed from large spouts in the dark stone walls, splashing into the enormous pool. Threads of steam rose from it to bead on the ceiling and smooth black floors. Cinnamon and jasmine, known aphrodisiacs, scented the humid air. Hundreds of candles burned in the circular space, eating away at the shadows, allowing no one a chance to hide.

Naked as always, Arez stood in a line of other females the male slaves would soon bathe, preparing them for the rulers whose salacious appetites were as varied as the women they mounted and used night after night. The girl in front of Arez looked nothing like her, even though they’d come here at the same time. Whereas Arez had caramel-colored skin, the other young woman was quite pale, her flesh appearing too delicate to touch.

The crisscrossed marks on her buttocks from her most recent punishment contradicted that notion. During her whipping, she’d cried for the ruler to use a stronger hand, liking the bite of his strap against her skin. Her wheals were identical in color to her straight red hair, reminiscent of ruby silk.

The young woman in front of her turned at a clanging noise from behind. One of her eyes was a pale blue, the other green, both colors at odds with her skin that was nearly as dark as the floor and her curly mane. Other young women had wavy blonde hair that ran the spectrum from gold to silver, or red and brown tresses in a variety of shades. A few, like Arez, had black hair with either reddish or blue highlights. No two of them were alike, their coloring, hair and facial features as distinct as hers.

All of their purposes the same. To obey and please.

Arez had never known anything else. As a child, her caretakers warned that once she reached a certain age, she’d satisfy the rulers at all cost. It wasn’t only a duty but an honor. To bring so many powerful men a smile or a sigh of contentment meant more food of better quality and gentler treatment from the guards.

She’d never expected or hoped for more until she’d met Lukan.

The thought of him caused warmth to seep through her body. Its heat settled in her cheeks and belly at the memory of their first encounter. Unlike the other male slaves who’d bathed her in this room, Lukan dared speak to her, risking punishment.

“Does it hurt?” he’d asked.

His question had stunned Arez, generating a mixture of surprise and confusion. She didn’t know what to think of anyone asking if she experienced pain. It was her duty to give what she could, no matter the discomfort.

Lukan seemed intent on her well-being, no one else’s. For such a large man, he treated her with great care, making certain not to touch the raw skin on her wrists where fetters had held her too tightly the night before.

“Is the water stinging you?” he whispered, his words barely audible above the splashing noises the others made.

Arez experienced no discomfort, only an unfamiliar rush of happiness at his gentle stroking, his strong voice so filled with concern. She shook her head, then dared to whisper as he had. “Not at all.”

Carefully, he brushed Arez’s wet hair from her throat and breasts and said no more, until the following day when he bathed her once more.

With his hands between her legs, cleansing the folds of her sex, he whispered, “I’ll be careful not to hurt you.”