No Mercy (12 page)

“Come here and let me help you down.” He beckoned her with one hand.

Stepping to the edge of the compartment, she reached her hand down, expecting him pull her into his arms, but instead he yanked her over his shoulder. The impact of his firm shoulder knocked the wind out of her and she panicked, fighting for air.

“Hold still there, angel.” He slapped her on her bare backside. And started to move off with her dangling over his shoulder like some kind of human shawl. “I know you're eager for playtime, but at least let me get you to our rooms before you start squirmin' all over me.”

A few of the men laughed and she looked up, indignantly, her eyes meeting a pair of icy blue ones. So, Fenton was here. Had he betrayed them? The cool, assessing way he studied them gave away nothing.

With her eyes finally adjusted to the light, Gia took in her surroundings. They had stopped on a hill, overlooking a valley below. They were in some sort of desert city. People milled around what looked like a marketplace, buying, selling, trading, going about life as usual. Higher up, what looked like military barracks swarmed with uniformed men, broken occasionally by the colorful, sheer garb of a camp follower.

Craning around, she gasped at the grand citadel actually carved out of the craggy mountainside. Arching windows with attached shutters stood open, like thousands of eyes watching them. Red-gold pillars flanked each landing on the massive staircase Zan climbed up and up to the mouth of the palace.

Crossing the threshold, Zan didn't even pause as he strode purposefully away. It would almost be romantic, if he wasn't a total barbarian. Gia caught a glimpse of the sand-colored foyer that seemed to soar up into infinity and then it was gone as they turned down a narrow corridor.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

This time when his hand touched her backside, it was more of a heated caress. His answer, when it came, was low and made her shiver. “To my rooms, of course. I'm hungry for some more avenging angel.”

She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but she knew her best chance for survival meant that she had to stick close to Zan.

She didn't have to like it.

Z
an knew Gia was spitting mad by the time the doors closed to his rooms. He'd humiliated her, treated her like a possession, and he was prepared to deal with the fallout now that they were alone. The indignity he'd heaped on her had all been for show, but all she knew was that he'd thrown her naked into the back of the transport meant for toting luggage and left her alone on the journey from the northern base to the capital city. He had no doubt that the second he put her down she'd go for his eyes. Or maybe his nuts.

The entire trip had taken less than three hours by sonic transport. Xander was the only person in the Hosta System to own such a vehicle. If they could steal it, no one would be able to catch up with them. Of course, it wasn't meant for interstellar travel, so they'd be back to the run-and-hide game. Right now, Xander had accepted him back into the fold. The man was lonely and Zan was his blood. He believed his son had chosen to return, had said as much on the long ride while rehashing the glory of their past exploits. Zan could do nothing to make him the slightest bit suspicious.

His father and half his army believed he was in here fucking Gia. His gaze took in the room, all the places that might have hidden cameras. Xander liked to watch, and his flesh and blood wasn't off limits. There would be no conspiring with her in here.

The bathroom was a different story. The walls were solid, and no decorative statues and awnings meant fewer places to hide any spy equipment. Instead of setting Gia down, he strode through the outer room and the bedroom, turned the shower on, and plopped her down. The falling water would distort their voices to the listening devices in the other room.

Gia opened her mouth, but he clapped a hand over it. Her cheek was swollen from where he hit her, her perfect skin marred from his blow, and guilt flayed him. Turning away, he searched every inch of the bathroom to ensure their privacy. Given time, he could build a frequency disrupter to muddle the signals in the outer room, but this would do for now.

Squaring his shoulders, he prepared for the hit as he said, “We're alone.”

Gia didn't budge. He waited, unwilling to lower his guard until she lashed out at him, but she just stared unblinkingly. Minutes passed and the silence dragged on, making him itch.

He stepped closer reached for her injured cheek. By tomorrow it would be purple and blue and then fade to green and yellow as it healed. The thought of seeing it for days made him nuts. He was such a bastard, he deserved her wrath. “Come on, baby, let me have it. I hit you and humiliated you. Punish me.”

“You did it to save my life,” she said tonelessly. “I know that.”

“I'd give anything to go back to that other shower, before he showed up and ruined it all.” He'd known heaven inside her body, holding her in his arms and sharing himself with her, every last bit.

“Well, we can't,” she said crisply, and turned her back on him, stepped into the running water and washing the grit and dust from her skin. “All we can do is move forward from here. What happens next?”

Her dismissal made him ache. Before he knew what he was doing he stepped into the shower, fully clothed and dropped to his knees. Wrapping his arms around her waist he rested his cheek against her soft belly, ignoring her protests. He just needed to hold her for a minute, to remember why he couldn't drop the charade and die like a man.

She was so soft under his whiskered cheek, so warm and alive. He would do everything in his power to keep her that way. But he'd hurt her. Struck her as part of an act, exposed her beautiful body to a camp full of men. Treated her like a thing, his new favorite toy, when she was so much more than that. He always hurt the people he cared about.

Always.

“I need you to forgive me.” He didn't turn to look up at her, afraid to see refusal forming on her face. Hope was a powerful force, and he wanted it on his side for just a little longer. “For everything I've done, everything I will do.”

She didn't speak, and he held his breath as the water beat around them. Her sweet, feminine scent engulfed him and he gripped her tighter, afraid to let her go.

A hand ran through his hair. She traced down the braid, stroking it softly, lovingly almost, before pulling the tie free. Then, working slowly, she unfurled the locks until his hair hung down his back. He'd take it; whatever her tender gesture meant, he would relish it.

Letting out a shuddering breath he turned and kissed her right above the indent of her navel. Her hands worked through his hair slowly, steadily, and he took that as permission to kiss her lower, but her other hand cupped his chin.

“No. We need to strategize, figure a way off this rock.”

“I'm working on it,” he promised her. “If we can contact my ship, let them know where we are, they'll come for us.”

Her eyes narrowed and her posture changed. “You mean Duffy will come for you.”

Zan could see it in her green eyes, the knowledge of what he'd done to Duffy. Shit. Of all the memories he didn't want her to have, that one was right up there at the top of the list. How could he explain it when he barely understood the reasons driving his actions?

“I've known Duffy a long time.”

She stepped back, out of his reach. “By known I'm guessing you mean in the biblical sense?”

Frustration welled in him. “Strictly speaking, but it wasn't because I wanted to.” At least not at first.

Water dripped from her tight breasts until she crossed her arms over them, her body language completely closed down. “You don't have to justify yourself to me. I don't own you.”

How to make her understand? His culture was so different from hers and she'd been brutalized because of it.

“There's something I need to tell you about before you see it for yourself. Every year there's a tournament that pits men against one another. We call it the ranking. The winner is considered the most dominant male and has his pick of all the highborn females to claim as his own. It's how our society is structured.”

Gia's eyebrows drew down. “Okay. What's that got to do with me? Or your relationship with Duffy, for that matter?”

“The ranking provides structure, keeps order. If a man doesn't like his supervision he can challenge him publicly, try to win himself a higher spot in the societal hierarchy. As captain of my vessel and as Xander's son, I've always been ranked at the top of the pack. The challenges have been few because of my reputation. It's a good thing, because any man I rank I'd have to kill. Duffy was the only one I've ever ranked, years ago.”

She cocked her head to the side. “I'm still missing something.”

“I fucked him. That's how we show our dominance; we fuck the lower-ranked men. I couldn't come, of course. He submitted to me willingly, no wrestling, no force, even though he's a damn fine fighter with a dominant streak of his own. He wanted to be my second, and having him as such was good for me. He took on any challengers so I didn't have to.”

Her lips parted, forming a small “o.” He pushed on, the need to confess everything to her damn near overpowering him.

“We went on like that for decades. Duffy wanted more though, more than I could give him. He was either gonna challenge me or leave, and without his loyalty my crew would fall apart. I knew what he wanted and, because of my condition, couldn't deliver. So I gave him the fantasy to keep him by my side longer.”

“It was a lousy thing to do, Zan. Manipulating another person like that, using his own feelings against him to get what you wanted.”

He knew. “There's more.”

“I don't know if I can take much more.”

“You have to.”

“Why?”

He sucked in a shuddering breath. She would hate this part, probably hate him for his role in it. “Because you're going to be in this year's mix of eligible females. And I have to win you in a ranking ceremony or someone else can claim you.”

 

Gia's head was swimming, and she stumbled back out of Zan's hold until her back hit the cool wall. The goose bumps on her skin had nothing to do with the water from the shower. Never mind the way he'd played Duffy like a freaking violin. Had her lover really just told her that he was going to have to fuck—and consequently kill—a bunch of men to keep someone else from screwing her? The man who'd knelt before her and begged her forgiveness had vanished. Gia was glad for it too, because the sight unearthed things better left buried. She remembered her mother's boyfriend, the one who used to get drunk and knock her around and then plead with her to give him another shot. And her mother, weak-willed fool that she was, agreed. That choice earned her bruises, fractures, and eventually her daughter. Because he was the man reeking of cheap whisky and sour sweat who'd snuck into Gia's room when she was sixteen. He was the one who'd stuffed a rag in her mouth, lifted her nightgown, and . . .

No!
Her brain shrieked and closed down the flood of memories before they completely paralyzed her. Between the attack the day before and Zan's actions, all of her own darkness was churning beneath the surface, a tide of rage and madness ready to suck her down with the undertow if she let her guard down for another minute. If she stopped fighting she might never surface again.

“Goddamn it, I'm not someone's lost luggage. There will be no
claiming
me by you or anyone else!”

Zan remained on his knees, kept his distance. He should have looked ridiculous, fully clothed and soaked through, but instead he radiated power, control. “If there were another way, believe me I'd take it. No man deserves to die because I lose control of my seed. If Xander's feeling the bloodlust, he might kill them anyway. My father's a sadistic bastard who likes to watch his minions fuck each other over in every way imaginable.”

“How many?” Gia asked, her voice hollow.

“How many what?”

“Men do you have to . . . ?” She swallowed, unable to finish. It was one thing to imagine seeing him with another man in the heat of passion, but to imagine him brutalizing other men, maybe even killing them for her sake, made her feel sick.

“As many as want to challenge me. I've been gone for a long while, and the young bucks will be itching to try to best me. It ain't rape, not really, because they know what they're in for by challenging me and could avoid it if they were of a mind to, so stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Anger shone in those golden eyes. “Like I disgust you. If you'd rather be picked like a wildflower by whatever man wins the ranking, I'll stand aside. Is that what you want?”

“No.” Closing her eyes, Gia schooled her features. He was offering to be her champion and risk exposing his secret to protect her. “I'm sorry. We need to work together, not fight. What do you need me to do to help?”

A shuffling sound, and she opened her eyes to see him rising up to tower over her. Extending a hand he pulled her to her feet and brushed his lips over hers. “Rest up. I'll have one of the maids come by later with a tray and to help you prepare.”

“Prepare for what?”

“To be fucked senseless. If I stand any chance of controlling my seed during the ranking, I need to come as much as possible between now and then.”

“You don't need me for that,” she whispered, fighting down the surge of lust that rose up inside her.

“I want you. Not my fucking hand or some device. I want to be inside your sweet, hot pussy, to be reminded why I'm bothering with this.”

“Why are you bothering? Because I have your memories?” she asked.

Slowly he shook his head. “No. Because you're with me and I look out for what's mine.” He stepped out of the shower and left the bathroom.

Damn him, he didn't hear a word she said! She didn't belong to him, and just because she chose to share her body with him, was stuck with him for the duration of this nightmare, didn't mean he was allowed to brand his name on her ass. Property of Zan in his fucked-up dreams! As soon as she thought she had the chance Gia would hightail it out of his line of sight, find another man, and screw him until she couldn't even remember the golden-eyed space pirate or the way he consumed her with those eyes.

Even as she tried to work up indignation at his claim, to remember how manipulative he really was, a small corner of her mind leaped for joy at his declaration. She decided to lock that piece in the closet until it came to its senses.

Mechanically, Gia finished her shower. Wrapping a towel around herself, she moved into the other room. The bed was more of an oversized pillow covered in piles of blankets. Again, there were no suitable clothes, so she just dried herself and climbed beneath the covers. Exhaustion swept over her and she drifted off to sleep.

The clink of metal startled her and she sat up. The room was dark, but someone had lit some candles that flickered and cast shadows on the walls. Movement drew her gaze, and a small, curvy woman bowed at the end of the bed. “I am Shalla, sent here to serve you.”

“Gia. Nice to meet you, Shalla.” The scent of roasting meat made her mouth water and her stomach rumble. Gia nodded to the tray in the woman's hands. “Is that for me?”

“Yes. My lord ordered you a veritable feast.”

It took every effort not to snatch the tray from the woman and dig in. “I don't have any clothes.”

“I will avert my eyes if you wish.” Shalla smiled.

Taking the topmost blanket, Gia wrapped it around herself before getting out of bed and moving to sit at the small oblong table. She wasn't about to eat naked with anyone but Zan. Imagining him equally naked and feeding her little bits of whatever smelled so delectable made her pulse pound. Despite everything she still wanted him, more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. That thought unsettled her, but she reasoned that he was her only true ally, so of course she was attached to him. Shalla stood by her side staring off into space. “Aren't you having any?”