Origin (3 page)

He waved his hand at a blue light and I lifted my arms to aim at the camera I knew was there, staring into it for a long time first, hoping my owner watched me rebel. The shattering of glass added to the pleasure I already felt. Pleasure that shocked the hell out of me because I’d been sure I was defective somehow. Nothing that had been done to me—even the few who tried to make me enjoy it—had sent this strange, clenching warmth to pool between my legs.

Watching the two beautiful men walk, I couldn’t stop my mind from supplying images, one hotter than the last. Did they drop the banter to truly make love to each other? Or had they ever been lovers, because it was apparent they weren’t intimate now—though the blond sure wanted to be. Had they touched and caressed? Kissed? I’d only been able to imagine that true affection existed out there, that some people touched for love.

The young Gwinarian, Bastian, had told me there could be true beauty in a touch. I didn’t think it could be that way for me. But…I thought I might like to watch two consenting adults love each other in a setting that wasn’t one of payment for pleasure. My gaze slid down to Claybourne’s backside. Maybe he was the one who did the actual diddling. If there was one thing I’d learned after all these years, it was not to judge a person’s kink from their packaging. I’d seen the smallest woman dominate a room of huge men. Even watching that hadn’t worked for me. I’d been convinced
that
part of me had been destroyed, but here I was, escaping, making plans and thinking about people having sex.

The stinging in my leg turned to a deep, aching stab of pain. I kept my expression clear, having mastered the art of hiding my suffering from a young age. When we reached the end of the last passageway, I didn’t hesitate this time. I shot out the camera.

Anders put out an arm to stop us from opening the paneled door. “Clay, I got some crazy skitters crawlin’ up my back. This is too easy.”

“Agreed.” Claybourne stepped close to Anders, spoke low. “I expected this part of the ship to be cleared out, but there should be an enforcer or two loitering to keep an eye on the rooms.”

“The rooms are all locked,” I offered. “Only the top two decks have rooms for those who have paid to be here as entertainment. These are all people who were taken.”

“Like you.” Anders wasn’t asking.

I nodded.

He clenched his jaw. “From here on out, no one is going to make you do anything against your will.”

“I already told her that.” Claybourne put his ear to the door, listened for several long moments. He nearly fell through when the door swung open.

I didn’t hesitate, lifting my gun to fire at the massive man in the doorway.

“No!” Anders knocked the gun up, my shot taking out a couple of lights in the swing. “He’s with us.”

Looking at the block of man filling the doorway, I decided I’d be keeping my gun with me at all times. Everything about him was wide, from his hips, to his shoulders to his bald head. Even his nose lay flattened and stretched across the center of his face.

“Don’t let Juniper make you nervous. He’s a teddy bear.”

I wouldn’t be taking their word on that one.

“Thanks for clearing the way, Juni.” Anders slapped him on the shoulder as he passed him. I moved faster, staying close to the blond man. My gut had already told me I could trust him and the captain. I’d stick to them until I figured out where I’d go. And what I’d do when I got there.

I’d been a slave most of my life and had no skills other than fixing myself up to look like a piece of art so I could kneel next to a man’s chair. Or maybe to keep perfectly quiet so he stayed relaxed and didn’t mark up my skin or break my bones.

We finally reached a part of the ship teaming with noise. I stayed close to Anders, clutching the big shirt around my body with one hand while holding the gun under the material with the other.

“Looks like we’re not getting out of here without talking to them first. This group is okay. It’s the one I called.” Claybourne strode up to someone he obviously knew and leaned in to speak quietly.

The enforcer just behind the man smirked nastily when he got a good look at me. He must have made an even nastier comment because Claybourne suddenly moved and had the man by the throat. The much bigger man. Whipcord strength showed in the thick veins lining the captain’s wrist. It showed in the flexing muscles of his arm through the material of the shirt as he easily kept the man from getting away. He spoke loud enough for me to hear—for them all to hear.

“She is a Gwinarian. We are returning to Kithra, so we’re taking her home.”

Another enforcer stepped up, the blue lights reflecting on his white helmet, making it look polka-dotted. “Canfield, we believe this was the personal slave of Lashin himself. She must know things and will have to be questioned. According to our records, she’s been here for fourteen years. She was the slave of the person who ran this ship before Lashin changed his identity and took over eight years ago.”

Anders turned and pulled my hand away from the front of the shirt. He quickly did up the fasteners then slid his palm over mine, threading our fingers together. I didn’t think to pull back, to protest, only looked up at him in surprise because I could actually feel the anger coming off him.
Why did they care what my life had been like?
They didn’t know me. For a smart-talking big hunk of a man, Anders had a soft center. And apparently, he didn’t care who saw it. I squeezed his fingers, earning a look of surprise.

Claybourne hadn’t let go of the first man, who was starting to turn purple. “You’re telling me this woman has been enslaved since she was a young girl and instead of letting her go home, you want to what? Put her in a cell to be questioned? No.” He turned and aimed a look that would have scared me if he’d used it when he’d first come into my owner’s room at the man who’d spoken. “You can question her over vids when she is safely on my ship. I’m taking her to Kithra, where her people will care for her.”

The enforcer held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Just let him go before he suffocates.”

Claybourne dropped the man, who fell to his knees coughing and choking. He came back and stopped in front of me. “You do want to go with us, right? Because it is your choice. Do you understand me? You will always have a choice.”

I looked around at the enforcers in their white uniforms, at the gathering of paying clients lined up like a chain against the wall, at the younger slaves filing into the area from the lower floors. “Can you promise me the ones here like me will get to go home?” I stared at Claybourne but I asked the question of the enforcer.

“I can. Families will be notified as soon as we have all their names.”

“Some of them…might not remember.” I finally looked at him, watched his expression, hoping for a hint of compassion. I found it in the softening of his eyes as he met my gaze.

“Do you remember your name?” he asked.

“No. But I do remember that my family was on Kithra, so there is no one to contact for me anyway.” I took a deep breath, knowing I could be making the wrong decision, but also knowing I needed to be far, far away from this ship. Strange at it seemed, even to me, some part of me trusted Anders and Claybourne. “I will go with them.”

Anders didn’t let me go as we left the ship and walked through the space station toward their vessel. I stood out in Anders’s big shirt with the skimpy lace bodysuit showing underneath. I still wore the dainty black lace slippers that matched the outfit and every so often, pieces of trash dug into the soft soles, hurting my feet. But I never winced, never made a sound. The pain didn’t compare with the fire of my inner thighs anyway.

We stopped and I gazed in skepticism at the tiny ship that would be my home for the trip back. I knew it would take at least a month for us to reach the Kithran Sector. The ship was really small. It could have fit into a fourth of the lowest deck of the entertainment ship, but it was well cared for—shiny and clean.

“Welcome to the
Ultio Ultionis
.”

Claybourne waved his hand and the loud sound of hydraulics fought with the noise of the busy space station as the loading hatch came down. He stepped aboard and turned to hold his hand out to me. I glanced up at Anders, who smiled and lifted our linked hands before transferring my hold to his captain. But I wouldn’t move until I knew he was coming too. He seemed to understand, that crooked grin pulling his lips as he placed his hand gently on the small of my back. “I have to leave again. You need clothes, shoes and uh, other lady stuff. I’m sure there’s some kind of general store here.”

Other lady stuff.

I’d never owned anything, not even the makeup used to dress up my face for my owner’s guests. But I did have something. Something I decided to share with these men who were going out of their way to make me feel comfortable. I tugged Claybourne to a stop. Both men stood before me. “I lied to that enforcer. Partially. I don’t know my family name, but I do remember my first name. It’s Siri.”

Chapter Three

The clothes Anders purchased for me would have made me laugh if I remembered how. I did enjoy the curl of amusement in my belly as he scowled and dropped a small pile of them on the bunk in the small room they’d given me to use. He set a box of what I guessed were
lady things
on the small table bolted to the wall.

“One store on this rock and the place was a joke. The clothes…well, they’re all plain and perfectly serviceable. It was either that or uh, more like what you have on under my shirt. I can imagine you’ve seen enough of those type clothes to last a lifetime. I got several pairs of shoes in different sizes. There was only one nice thing in that silly store.” He rummaged in the pile then pulled out a wrapped present from the bottom, handing it to me.

I held the gift in my lap, not sure I could open it. A memory surfaced of another time, another gift. I saw a brief glimpse of a smiling woman with freckles like mine. A surge of love came with the memory. It wasn’t the first time I’d remembered her face. “I think the last person to give me a gift was my mother.”

“There will be better gifts.”

I put my hand on the plain brown wrapping. “I don’t need gifts. And one serviceable outfit would have been plenty. I don’t know how to pay you back for all this.”

“Money isn’t something Clay or I worry about. We have plenty. We co-wrote a software program with Clay’s brother, Jackson, and it got popular. But even if I’d scraped together the funds for these pitiful clothes, I wouldn’t want you to pay me back. Open your gift.”

Carefully, I unwrapped the brown paper, revealing a Dranellian cotton blanket in the prettiest electric green and black. “I remember these colors. Vordun flowers on Kithra were like this. Green with black centers.” I rubbed my palms over it, reveling in the soft, lush material. Blinking back tears, I didn’t look up. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Hey, this sad little room needed some color. You can’t look at yourself, after all.”

“I am colorful.”

“You’re beautiful.” He cleared his throat and stepped back toward the paneled door. “We run our ship on the standard twenty-four hour day and night. Lights brighten when it’s morning then dim when it’s night—that sort of thing. This door will not be locked from the outside. You are free to roam the ship because no one on it will hurt you. The rest of the crew will start trickling in soon. There’s a shower room through there.” He pointed at the other gray door in the room. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a real galley on this ship. We do have two fully stocked simulators and they are in what we call the galley at the end of this section. Clay is two doors down. I’m next door. You can call for me anytime you need me. All you have to do is choose the call buttons on the panel either by your bed or on the wall here.” He pointed to the square button-covered panel by the door.

Overwhelmed, I hugged the blanket to my chest, blinked at him.

His gaze dropped to my thighs and he cursed. “I’m so sorry! We have healing gel and other medical supplies in the med scanner room. I’ll grab them and be right back.”

He ducked out and a real smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. It made my lips tingle. I touched them in wonder before sliding the Dranellian blanket over my cheek. It was mine. Truly mine.

I had no idea why these men had rescued me. Maybe it was to take me home as they said—which seemed awfully generous. A knock sounded and I pulled my gaze from the other generosity—the pile of clothes—and looked at the captain standing in the doorway.

“Anders is bringing the medical supplies. We do have a scanner if you think there might be infection.”

“I don’t need to see a scan. There’s infection, but the gel should take care of it just fine.”

“There isn’t another woman on the ship to offer a gentler touch to clean those if you need help. Well, there will be, but trust me, she isn’t gentle.”

The snort that escaped my nose surprised us both. He lifted an eyebrow.

“The only person more sadistic than my owner was my former owner. She was never gentle. Gender has nothing to do with compassion.”

“Do you want Anders to do it? For a big lug, he has a gentle touch.” He cleared his throat, frowned. “Or so I’ve been told.”

I shook my head, wondering why he’d felt the need to tack on that last part. “I can take care of myself. But thank you.”

Anders returned with a metal box full of stuff. On the top rested a bandage gun and the tube of healing gel. “We’ll leave you to settle in.” Claybourne pointed to the wall units next to the palm panel and bed, repeating what Anders had already told me. “Call me Clay. We’ll hear you no matter where we are.”