Whispers in the Dawn (19 page)

Ralph arrived quickly, as if he had been waiting in the wings for his father’s summons. He stood at ease but Pardua felt the tension emanating from him, saw the fear in his gaze. And the heavy bruise under his eye.

In that second, Pardua made the discovery of his life. He enjoyed, actually thrived, on the smell of another being’s fear. The more one killed, the more one wanted to kill.

A man of few words, he asked, “Why did you bring Harley into the organisation?”

His son swallowed hard and flushed an unhealthy pink. “I didn’t do that. Sir.”

“But now I have a traitor in my midst. Someone I trusted. Someone who knows more about me than perhaps any other man alive. Why is that?”

Ralph shook his head, at a loss for words.

“Answer me.” His mother had been a whore, taken off the street of some planet he had long ago forgotten.
Like mother, like son
, Pardua thought irritably.

“I don’t know, sir,” Ralph responded, every word forced.

“Are you jealous because he took your position? Why weren’t you smart enough to keep it?”

“Devious enough, you mean?” Ralph questioned, showing his spirited backbone for the first time.

Pardua snarled. “You don’t deserve my sympathy.”

“Harley isn’t your problem,” his son said. “He’s mine.”

“Is that why he pounded you into the wall? Did he give you a headache?”

Ralph said nothing again. He wasn’t normally the type to fight back.

Pardua’s annoyance flared to dangerous rage. Without warning, he lifted the gun from his desk and aimed the small piece of metal at his only son’s heart. “You betrayed me. Here’s your punishment.”

The words were so simple, so understated as the bullet sliced through the air. Ralph fell to the floor, gurgling as the blood seeped from his mouth.

“One less traitor to deal with,” Pardua said, blowing the wispy trail of smoke from the end of the gun. “Now for Harley. He double-dealt with me, and now it’s his turn to be exterminated like the bug he is.”

Pardua hit the button on his comspeaker again. “Get this mess out of my quarters,” he yelled at the flunkie who responded.

He was gratified to see the short but sturdy man haul his son’s body out into the corridor. Fear was quite an inspiring emotion, Pardua thought idly.

“I will find you, Dakoda Harley, and I promise you won’t die as easily as my son did. You’ll die slowly. As slowly as I can manage. Along with Roland Baylon’s woman. You deserve no better.”

He strode out into the corridor and started shouting orders. It was time to make a concerted effort to find the son of a bitch.

Harley awakened to a piteous mewling coming from the woman beside him. His heart broke in two at the terror and grief in the sound. He had to hold her in his arms and protect her, even if it was only against a dream.

He reached over and stroked her shoulder with an angel-soft touch. Her eyelids trembled. She was about to awaken.

A high-pitched scream resonated around him. He hurried to throw his hand over her mouth. He had to keep her quiet to prevent her from alerting the soldiers to their presence.

She went wild, scratching and clawing at his fingers before he lifted her against his chest and pinned her hands behind her with one of his own. “Odessa,” he whispered, hoping to snap her out of her nightmare. “Odessa.” The stifling air smelt of stark fear.

Although he couldn’t see her face, he knew the moment she opened her eyes. Her body shook against his. She struggled to free herself.

“Odessa,” he whispered. “Please. Let go of the nightmare.” He wanted to tell her she was safe but he couldn’t bring himself to lie, to give her hope, no matter how fledgling it was.

She slumped against him. “Promise you won’t scream,” he pleaded.

Odessa nodded. He released her, and she took great gulps of air before she looked over her shoulder at him. “I know how to get us out of here,” she croaked.

Her face was much too pale. “I won’t even ask what you dreamed,” he said gently. “How do we get out of here?”

“With those,” she said, pointing an elegant finger at the helmets resting on the floor, side by side like lurking sentinels.

“Oh no. Those aren’t the solution. They’re the problem. We have to find a ship.” Had she gone insane as she slept?

She turned around and buried her fingers in his shirt, leaning against his massive chest. “I was wounded earlier today, or was it yesterday? Doesn’t matter, but I wondered why I didn’t die.”

Harley frowned. “I didn’t find any evidence you were injured.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I know you didn’t. It didn’t make any sense because
I knew
I had been shot. I felt it, and yet when I woke, when you were groping me,” she continued, with a twinkle in the blue jewels of her eyes, “I slapped you and took off in a hurry.”

“Uh-huh. You didn’t care for my hands all over your bare stomach.”

“Well, as long as you didn’t push up my bra or anything,” she teased.

“Okay. Go on. You should have died from that kind of a wound. How could you have healed so quickly?”

“Don’t worry about that,” a voice interrupted them. “I’ll make sure this time she dies, and she’ll know it.”

Harley glanced upwards at the speaker. Baylon had an old-fashioned rifle trained on Odessa.

Harley’s heart sank. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. First Baylon had killed Abby, and now he planned to kill Odessa. Harley hung onto her, his fingers digging into her arms, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“You lying bastard.” She pushed to her feet. The whisper of leather brushed against leather as Harley rose behind her. “You dumped me here. You deserted me, knowing what kind of hell this station was for women.”

Instead of appearing appalled, Roland’s lips twisted in an ugly smile. “Of course I did. I’d had enough of you. This station was perfect for you to learn a little about what life is really like. You’ll learn your brothers and that crazy fool of an uncle can’t protect you from everything.”

Either he hadn’t combed his short, burnt-umber hair, or else he had been in an unusual hurry. The top buttons of his baby-blue cotton shirt were unfastened and tiny strands of reddish brown hair peeked out above the uppermost button. The jovial demeanour he had once cultivated had degenerated into a glowering, forbidding countenance. The black trousers he wore were stained at the knees with a white powder-like substance.

She clenched her fists at her sides. “When I get my hands on you, you’ll regret having met me.”

He burst out in cruel laughter. “You always thought you could handle yourself. My, how misleading our thoughtless inventions of ourselves can be. I wouldn’t threaten me if I were you. I’m the one holding the gun.”

Harley’s fingers tightened around her arms. “Easy,” he whispered behind her.

“Looks like you’ve acquired a real champion. Did I tell you what happened to his wife?” Baylon sneered.

“Don’t press your luck,” Harley warned. His arms shook. His fingers trembled with rage.

“Or else what?”

“Odessa has nothing to do with your little vendetta. If you have to take it out on someone, take it out on me.”

“How very gallant of you,” came the sarcastic response.

“He’s mine first,” Odessa ground out.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to his wife?” Roland didn’t wait for her reply. “She burned to death in a warehouse while she was on a GDA mission with ol’ Harley, here. He should have died too, but he got luckier than he deserved.”

Harley tensed behind her. “Abby died a horrible death because of you. You are going to pay for what you did.”

“Really?” Roland’s eyebrows shot up. “Look at this. A lynch mob. Only thing is”—he paused melodramatically—“I’m still the one holding the gun.”

Harley muttered, “Damn you to hell.”

“So what were you going to tell this man, Odessa, about how to get off the station? What remarkably stupid suggestion were you going to make?”

“I was going to tell him that all we had to do was hire a ship,” she lied, realising with a sickening feeling that Roland had never thought of her as smart and capable and pretty. He had used her, relieved her of her virginity. The insight made her want to rip him apart more than she had when she had found herself stranded. Had she truly been able to hear his voice along with her uncle’s from within the helmet in her dream?

Roland stared incredulously, then burst into mindless laughter. “That’s rich. A ship to get you off the station.” He sobered. “Women have no power here unless a rich man takes her between his legs, kind of like Harley did, but I’m sure you had your own agenda with her, didn’t you, old man?”

Harley hissed out a frustrated breath.

“Why don’t you tell Odessa what you really wanted with her?”

Harley made a choking noise behind her, forcing her to turn around. The colour had leeched from his cheeks, making his tanned skin look sallow. His eyes were unreadable.

“Come on, old boy. Tell her you wanted the same thing I did.”

Odessa decided to brave the storm brewing all around her, knowing that even if she and Harley escaped Roland, they would still have to get past Pardua and his soldiers. She turned back to Roland. “He made no bones about what he wanted. He was looking for you,” she said evenly.

“My, my, and you still hung out with him, knowing he was using you to get to me? Pity, but that’s not really what he had in store for you.”

“Couldn’t have been any worse than being with you,” she flashed back.

“Oh my, you’ve gained some spirit. That’s not allowed on this station. Not for women. But I know how to cure you of it.”

Harley interrupted. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh?” Roland knitted his eyebrows together in a classic frown. “Which would be the worse fate? To burn to death in a warehouse, or to be given to any man who wants you for a small fee? How would you live with yourself knowing your wife burned to death and your whore is forced to sleep with other men?”

Odessa watched his hate-filled expression. “How many women have you done this to?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

“Oh, a few. They’re easy to lure with adventure and love and wealth. They just don’t know where they’re headed until I put them into Pardua’s care.”

So he was a flesh peddler as well, she thought in disgust.

“I should have guessed,” Harley said, his tone. “And you accuse
me
of using other people.”

Roland shifted from one foot to the other. “Pretty women are worth a lot of money to a man who hasn’t had any fun in a while.”

“Then why didn’t you sell me?” Odessa’s heart almost stopped. She hated the heartless devil. How could he promise women riches and love and then sell them?

“I used you to lure Harley out. Had a debt to settle, my dear. But I’m not finished yet.”

“Over my dead body,” Harley growled.

Roland burst out laughing again. “Of course, over your dead body. Do you think I’d have it any other way?”

“He means to kill me and then sell you,” Odessa heard Harley whisper in her ear.

“Brilliant deduction, Watson,” the other man sneered.

Her breasts rose and fell with her shallow breathing. She’d seen how a life of prostitution had shredded Violette’s spirit, although the woman had held onto the remnants of her dignity. Odessa had no idea what to do. The solution that could save them lay so near, yet so far away. “I’m going to make sure you get what you deserve, even if I have to kill you with my bare hands. I won’t ever let you sell another woman into slavery.” Shrinking back from the horrific idea, she stepped back against Harley.

Someone sidled into the tunnel and up behind Roland.
Which is the lesser of two evils now?
she wondered bitterly.

The time for action was now or never. Odessa knew she had to take a chance with her newfound knowledge. She gently scraped her heel against Harley’s toes several times, hoping he would quickly catch onto her indication that she planned to launch herself.

With split second timing, she lunged to the side and dropped to her stomach, sliding forward on the slippery floor, hoping to act like a bowling ball rolling towards a standing pin. Harley lunged in the opposite direction. She bit back a cry of anguish as, once again, she felt a burning pain in her lower back caused by a bullet. Her collision with Roland’s ankles made her give an agonised yelp.

Even though he had braced himself, Roland crashed backwards into Pardua. As bullets ricocheted in the confined area, gunfire deafened her and tears blinded her. Odessa clamped her palms over her ears, willing the horrendous noise to stop. Something fell on top of her but she couldn’t say with any certainty what it was, although it was spongy and soft.

A deafening stillness descended. Was someone whimpering?

“Are you all right?” she heard Harley ask in a soft whisper.

“I’m not sure. I was hit again.”

“I know,” came the murmured reply.

Strangely enough, she had felt the searing stinging for only a few seconds, holding onto consciousness as the bullets flew over her head. Now she felt nothing, as if her body was paralysed.

“Can you wiggle your fingers?”

“Is Roland dead? Where is Pardua?”

“Let’s worry about you first, okay?”

Reluctantly she agreed, and observed her right hand. Her brain said she was clenching and unclenching her fingers. However, there was no movement. “No,” she moaned. This couldn’t be happening. The thought of being paralysed for life frightened her more than dying.

“Just stay low for the time being,” Harley continued in a low voice. “I’ll get you help. I promise.”

“I know what the answer is,” she managed as he got up.

“Well? I’m waiting, too,” another voice said.

Odessa turned her head, appalled at hearing Pardua speak. She couldn’t fail to see the shokkgun he was training on Harley.

Their eyes met. Pardua laughed. “You only took out one of us, my pet. That was one less than you needed to clear the field, but I understand you owed him one.”

She let her cheek rest on the warm floor. There was no way to win. A few feet away, Roland’s dead eyes stared at the ceiling.