Sex Slaves 2: Waiting For Yesterday Page 11

  Another explosion occurred, the ground shaking beneath her.

  Dree closed the door quickly, tears burning her eyes while she looked around at the room she’d been left in. Boxes of supplies, more than likely ammunition and parts for the carriers, were stacked along the walls. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust, while her heart raced and a putrid taste rose to her throat. Her hands shook and her legs were wobbly. The burn from the scrape on her leg, when she’d fallen into the room, began to consume her and she looked down at the long rip in her new gown. A gown she’d so frivolously purchased.

  Screaming and yelling subsided outside, and Dree no longer heard anything flying overhead.

  “Please forgive me.” She knew her words were silly. But her heart ached for knowledge of Marc, and the Gren, who had risked his life to save hers.

  Chancing a peek outside, she opened the door, the smell of dirt and burning flesh clogging her senses immediately. Someone howled pathetically, but she had to take a moment, standing there, the sensation to vomit overwhelming her.

  These attacks would have happened whether she’d been there or not. But she couldn’t get the growing thought out of her head that Marc’s rescuing her, yet again, had put this town in jeopardy. There was no way of knowing if he would have housed his headquarters here if she hadn’t been with him. And the thought that he’d altered plans, attacked sooner than he’d anticipated because of her, made her sick to her stomach.

  With a quick glance she noticed Trent Dar no longer lay on the ground. If he were dead would they take his body? Or had he only been injured? There was no way he could have crawled away that fast if he’d come to, injured, and working to get out of the way. But she didn’t see him anywhere.

  She wouldn’t have more people dying because of her. A sickening feeling rushed through her, clamping down on her heart, when she realized that she needed to leave, somehow strike out on her own, and prevent anyone else from dying because of her.

  Grabbing the bottom of her torn dress, she hiked it up above her knees, and darted across the smoke-filled area. Too much was going on for anyone to notice her, she was sure of that. She ran behind the houses, away from the fires, just as she had done when her home burned on Poltar.

  What seemed like hours later, Dree stopped running, looking around the open field where she stood and back toward the town of Lengorc. A dark cloud of smoke covered the area where she had been. Tears burned her eyes, tracing hot paths down her cheeks. Her insides clenched with misery. A fear burned her insides alive. Never had she felt so alone as she did now.

  Thoughts of Bean, of Pren and the others still at the castle filtered through her. Was the castle under attack?

  “Please be okay.” She stared up at the sky, the brightness of the two suns making her squint. “Even if I were there, what could I do?”

  A rumbling noise just about made her jump out of her skin. Dree froze, her hands going up in a self-defense reaction. Unable to hide in the open field, she stood there, knowing she would be dead any minute. Her heart raced painfully in her chest while a cold sweat broke out over her skin. Looking around frantically, she noticed several older model carriers, similar to the kind that brought shipments of goods to the castle, driving toward her. She watched while they slowed to a stop.

  There was no way she could outrun laser fire. One of the doors of the carriers slid open and she watched a man climb out and stand next to it. He appeared to be waving at her.

  “You there,” he yelled, obviously talking to her since there was no one else around. “What are you doing there?”

  She had no idea what to do. Clad in the simple gown, with no means of defending herself, she felt too vulnerable. But there was no hiding the fact that she stood in the middle of the field, not moving, staring at them.

  If they were friend or foe, she had no choice but to respond.

  “Running,” she yelled.

  The man gestured with his hand for her to approach. Her legs were stiff, sore from her quick exodus, and her feet burned. The undergrowth seemed to tear at her flesh when she began moving, approaching the carriers while panic rushed through her. Being at someone else’s mercy was getting a bit old.

  “Hurry girl. Get in.” The man talking to her was older, more than pudgy, and gesturing furiously for her to hurry.

  He didn’t sound aggressive. His appearance showed no indication that he meant to be hostile.

  “For the gods’ sakes, hurry and get in before the Bortan descend on the chaos.” He stepped back into the carrier, reaching to help her aboard.

  His last words made Dree hurry. Just thinking of how the Bortan raided her planet, and the destruction they were capable of had her realizing boarding with this stranger was much safer than risking running into the cruel man/machine beings.

  “Where are you headed?” She climbed in, almost falling to the side when the door shut at the same time that the cruiser took off again.

  Dree looked up at the woman driving while the lady looked over her shoulder at her briefly, before returning her attention to the road.

  “Back to the farm,” the older man told her after adjusting himself against the opposite wall of the carrier and then plopping down, his brown trousers bunching up, revealing thick hairy ankles. “Won’t be no market to buy in today.”

  “Do you know what happened back there?” The woman driving spoke, not taking her eyes off the road. “We heard rumors the King would attack, but do you know why?”

  Dree could guess at the answer. There were easily several reasons why. That these people might not know any of them made her wonder. She stared at the back of the lady who focused on her task. Thick black hair tumbled over her shoulders, balled up at the end in a round bun, making it impossible to guess its length. The lady wore trousers like the others in the carrier, but she was younger, much younger, possibly about Dree’s age.

  “I’m not sure what is happening.” She decided saying less might keep her safer longer.

  The man in the passenger seat hadn’t addressed her yet. She studied his back, noticing only his dark hair and large stature. He didn’t turn around to address her but focused his attention out the window.

  Dree adjusted herself on the floor of the carrier, crossing her legs, content to sit out the ride in silence.

  Her legs were stiff when the carrier finally slowed, turning off of the road and then parking. She climbed out first, staring at the plush land around her, when the lady who had been driving walked around to stand next to her.

  “You hardly have a thing on.” The woman stared down at Dree, more than likely taking in her lack of tattoos.

  Dree in turn took in the woman speaking to her. A colorful vine pattern crossed around the woman’s arms, ending between her fingers. She’d never seen ink like that on someone before, but liked it. The woman’s expression showed her dislike of Dree’s appearance. Her dark eyes glanced down to Dree’s bare feet, and then back up to her face.

  “I didn’t have time to prepare for the attack.” And it was true. Not that she would have had any clothes to change into, but this woman didn’t need to know that.

  “Obviously.” She turned to the man who had rode in the passenger seat. “Alert everyone that there’s been an attack. I’ll head up to the house in a few minutes.” She turned back to Dree. “Come with me. Let’s find you some better clothes.”

  The woman still didn’t look satisfied with Dree’s appearance after she’d lent her brown trousers and a button-down shirt. Shy of the tattoos and the woman’s dark hair, Dree thought they looked somewhat alike, the clothing doing nothing to show off either of their figures, but decided not to comment.

  “Thank you,” she said, and the woman shrugged then turned to leave the small living quarters.

  Trepidation trickled through Dree while she followed the silent woman toward a large home. Made from the same green stones so common in Lengorc, the house stood on top of a hill, reminding her oddly of her master’s home back on Poltar.

>   In the short time since she’d arrived, no one had given her any indication that these people were hostile. They’d offered her a ride and she’d been given clothes. Although not very social, there was no reason for fear. At least none that was apparent.

  But Dree couldn’t get her heart to stop racing. She was further from the castle and her people than she’d ever been. It was impossible to say where Marc was at the moment, or if he even knew she was missing. And there was nothing that she could do to find out how anyone was doing, or if they were still alive.

  Sucking in a tormented breath, she held her head high when they neared the large home.

  “If you want work here, you better be ready to tell them what you can do.” The woman hadn’t said a thing since she’d given her the clothing.

  Dree stared at her, a few loose strands of black hair partially blocking her view of the woman’s face. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask for work. Dree exhaled, wondering how she would ever make it on her own when thoughts of taking care of herself were still so foreign.

  She needed to quit thinking like a slave. The only problem was she had no idea how a free person thought.

  The woman stepped onto the long porch, her boots clicking across the smooth wooden floor. Dree followed silently, her bare feet padding against the cool surface.

  “Wait here.” The lady didn’t look behind her but continued into the house, leaving Dree standing at the door.

  Taking a step or two into the foyer, the smooth wood under her feet felt cool. Dree took in the simple home, elegant in a way that wasn’t flashy. Whoever lived here hadn’t been here long. The smell of fresh wood proved the house had recently been built.

  A hard knot twisted in her stomach when footsteps sounded on the floor. The woman reappeared, a man with her. Dree held her breath when she saw the tall good-looking man approach. Grey eyes, almost lavender, pierced her with a scrutinizing stare.

  “We have no need for sex slaves.” His tone was harsh—and familiar.

  Dree’s mouth went dry while her palms grew damp. A heat rushed through her, embarrassment burning her cheeks. Her heart raced, but she’d come too far, risked too much to walk away with her head down.

  “I’m not a sex slave.” She swallowed a thick lump that lodged in her throat and forced herself to look in the eyes of her former master’s enemy. “As you well know. I am free, Trev of Kopah.”

  She thought she saw humor dance in the man’s eyes. He tapped his finger to his lips, studying her. Then slowly he walked around her. More than anything she wanted to back away from him, refuse to be studied like a slave on the seller’s block. But something inside her, maybe old habits that hadn’t yet died, held her in place. She held her head high though, refusing to humble herself in front of this former sex breeder from Poltar.

  What was he doing here? So many questions raced through her mind. He said he had no need for sex slaves, so obviously he either had as many as he needed, or simply had no interest in a former Torl sex slave. Either way that was fine. Dree had no desire to be owned by this man, or any man. Freedom had come at a high price, and she would do all that she could to keep it.

  Nonetheless, Trev of Kopah was Torl’s enemy. He recognized her for what she was, and she had just let him know that she knew his identity. And she was on his property, in his home. Fear gripped her, making it hard to keep her knees from wobbling. Her heart raced so hard she was sure he could hear it. And try as she would, it was real hard to keep her head and think straight when she worried she had walked into some kind of trap.

  This man might have been from her home planet but none of that mattered. He wasn’t Torl. And nothing would replace the wonderful life she’d had with her old master. Unable to take it any longer, she turned to look at Trev.

  He stood to her side, still tapping his finger against his lips. “What do you want?” he asked her.

  “Nothing.” She clasped her hands behind her back, meeting his brooding stare. Her body still shook with fear; standing up to this man took all the strength she could find. Searching for words on top of that proved almost impossible. But she had to show him she knew how to be free. “I ran from the explosions. Your slaves picked me up and brought me here.”

  The woman coughed loudly. “I am hardly a slave,” she snapped. “Some appreciation I get after giving you clothes.”

  She turned and stomped out of the house, slamming the door not too kindly behind her.

  Trev of Kopah actually smiled. “There are no slaves here. We no longer deal in that business. We are farmers and I fear you’ve just upset one of my better employees. It’s not a good idea to get on Borna’s bad side.”

  He sounded so nice, almost too nice. And he was the closest thing she’d seen of home since her arrival on Benox. But she couldn’t let her guard down. In spite of the nerves that were wound so tight in her that she could barely breathe, she somehow had to keep her wits about her.

  Dree wrapped her arms around her waist, gripping herself in an effort to stop the growing pain of fear building in her gut. “I didn’t mean to offend her.”

  “What was that racket?” A woman came down the hallway, her tone alarmed and worried.

  Dree turned to look at her and her mouth fell open. Everything around her suddenly started to spin, her fears and embarrassment, her panicking and her worries all coming to a head at once.

  The woman stopped in mid-stride, staring at her as well. A slow smile appeared on her face.

  “Dree. I never thought I would see you again.” She held her arms open, walking toward her.

  Dree stared back in disbelief. She accepted the hug, adjusting herself so as not to hurt Marla of Torl, who was quite obviously very pregnant.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dree sat in a large airy room, simple yet classy, facing her former mistress. She’d never been more nervous in all of her life. More than anything she wanted Marla of Torl to see her as independent, confident, sure of herself. But she couldn’t relax, had no idea what to do with her hands, and seemed at a loss for words. Her incompetence irked her.

  “You must tell me everything.” Marla glowed from the life growing in her, obviously quite happy. “How did you escape Poltar? And where have you been all of this time?”

  Dree glanced past Marla to Trev, who leaned in the doorway, appearing quite relaxed and just as happy. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what the two of them were doing here on Benox together.

  “A shuttle brought some of us over. We were told there would be jobs for us.” Dree remembered those days too clearly. How naïve she’d been to think a shuttle driver cared at all about helping them find work. “Of course he lied. He’d thought he could sell us to King Sorale, but the king took advantage of his incompetence and then ignored us after he had us.”

  “So where have you been all this time then?” Marla shook her head, not appearing surprised by her comments about the King.

  “We’ve been at the castle.”

  “There are others from Torl with you?” Marla grinned, turning to look up toward Trev.

  He moved to stand behind her, caressing her shoulder. Dree tried not to stare, unnerved by the fact that these two known enemies were obviously so intimate with each other. The Torl and Kopah sex plantations were known rivals on Poltar. Marla had never spoken nicely of them. She wondered how long it had been going on. Maybe the two of them had an affair without their fathers’ knowledge. Dree glanced toward the window. None of that mattered now.

  “There are a handful of us.” She chewed her lip, wondering if she might be able to get questions answered. “Do you know if the castle was attacked?”

  “You don’t know?” Trev frowned at her. “I thought you just said that is where you have been staying.”

  Dree’s heart almost stopped. She would never be a warrior, never have the skill to interrogate without giving away her own secrets. She shifted in the chair, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

  “I ran away,” she lied. “The att
acks happened while I was in Lengorc.”

  “I believe the House of Torin attacked the kingdom. Where the attacks occurred and whether the King is still in power, we haven’t yet heard.” Trev showed no indication whether he thought any of this a good thing or not.

  But Dree had just learned one thing. Neither of them knew the outcome of the attacks. She still didn’t know if Marc was okay, or not. Something clamped down hard on her heart, the pain wrenching through her. She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles white from how hard she held her hands. The material of her trousers itched, and she desperately wanted to pull at the collar of her shirt. She wasn’t accustomed to so much clothing, and the misery of not knowing how Marc was soaked through her, adding to her discomfort.

  “You are welcome to stay here.” Marla’s tone was soft, obviously sensing her sadness, but misunderstanding its source. “We will do our best to let you know the standing of the kingdom as soon as we know.”

  A thought stirred inside Dree, something she had to take a chance on. “I escaped looking for a better place for all of us, all of us from Torl.” She glanced up at Trev, worrying he wouldn’t like hearing the name of her former home, even though his large hands caressed Marla’s shoulders. “I need to find out if the others are okay. They are relying on me.”

  Marla smiled. “You always were the mother hen, taking care of everyone. Who else is at the castle?”

  “Bean and Pren, and some of the younger ones.” If she could convince them to help her go after the others, she would be able to find out where Marc was.

  Marla smiled sadly, but Trev simply shook his head. “I will stress that you have your freedom. In no way will we force you to stay here. But right now is not the time to venture into the kingdom. I’m sorry. You are welcome here and once we have word from our contact, we will be sure and let you know when it is safe to return.”

  Dree nodded, lowering her head. She needed to thank the gods that she was safe, and had found what appeared to be wonderful sanctuary. But her heart weighed heavy, needing desperately to know what Marc was doing, and even more so, if he worried at all about her whereabouts.