Laura Jo Phillips (4 page)

“I realize that you are in need of sustenance,” the figure said.  “I apologize for the lack but, to be honest, I did not wish to conduct this interview with you while you were both worried about your surroundings and at full strength.  As soon as we are finished, I will have food and water brought to you immediately.”

“Who are you?” Slater asked.

“My name is Xi-Kung,” the figure replied.  “I am Xanti.”

Slater had never heard of the Xanti before, but he did not wish to admit it so he remained silent. 

“I also apologize for the circumstances in which you find yourself,” Xi-Kung continued.  “We had little time to remove you from your hiding place aboard the cargo ship before you were discovered.”

“Discovered?” Slater asked.

“You were not aware of it, but a contingent of Jasani security officers had boarded the ship you were on and were searching for you.”

Slater forced himself not to react to that news.  His tongue flicked out, testing, tasting, but he was unable to detect whether Xi-Kung was lying or not.  In truth, he could detect very little from Xi-Kung’s scent.

“I must thank you then,” Slater said carefully.

Xi-Kung bowed his head briefly.  “The Jasani were searching every ship in the sector, so we had no choice but to bring you aboard one of our own vessels.  Since we did not want to be found either, once we had you safely aboard we had to focus on our own escape.  We felt it was better to allow you to remain unconscious until we approached our destination.  In a few short days we will set you back on your home world.”

“Truly?” Slater asked in surprise.  When he left Jasan he’d had several months of travel ahead of him before returning to Onddo.  “How long have I been here?”

“Approximately nine months,” Xi-Kung replied.  “We would have reached our destination sooner, but we were...diverted.”

Slater thought about that for a moment, but the thought slipped away beneath his more immediate concerns.

“Thank you for aiding me,” he said.  “Why did you?”

Xi-Kung smiled, but Slater was certain it was not an expression intending humor.  “We wish to have a compact with you, Slater Sugetku.”

“What sort of compact?” Slater asked, not entirely certain he knew what a compact was.

“We know that you are Narrasti,” Xi-Kung said frankly.  “We are fully aware of your history, and that of those who now call themselves Jasani.  Like the Narrasti, the Xanti also have an ancient score to settle against them.”

“You want my help?” Slater asked doubtfully.

“Yes,” Xi-Kung replied.  “You have proven yourself to be quite resourceful.  It is unfortunate that your human puppet failed to fulfill his purpose, but the blame for that is not yours.”

“He failed?” Slater asked, surprised at the depth of his disappointment. 

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Xi-Kung replied.  “He very nearly succeeded, but the Jasani Princes were able to save the female’s life.  Nevertheless, we were impressed that you came so close to success, in such an ambitious goal against such powerful enemies, and they never knew a thing about it.”

Slater inwardly preened at the praise, but remained silent.

“We wish to combine forces with you,” Xi-Kung said.

“In what way?” Slater asked.  Forces? he wondered.  What forces?

Xi-Kung smiled again, only this time Slater felt the humor behind it.  “I shall tell you,” he said.

And he did.

Chapter
3

“Your luggage has been stored in an Unclaimed Locker,” Jackson said, frowning as he looked at the vid screen in front of him.

“Is that a problem?” Saige asked.

“Not really a problem,” he replied.  “It just seems odd to me.  You were due to arrive this morning.  Generally luggage isn’t tagged as
unclaimed
for a couple of days.  Maybe it was tagged that way because you were reported missing,” he suggested.

Saige shrugged.  So long as they retrieved her belongings she didn’t really care.  She experimented with stretching out her arms and legs while Jackson called his brothers on the vox and asked them to get her luggage for her.  She was relieved that she had more movement and less pain, and that the numbness in her hands and feet was fading.

“Saige,” Jackson said.  She looked up at him.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want you to get the idea that we don’t care how you came to be in that crate in the cargo bay,” he said.  Saige shuddered.  She didn’t even want to think about that right now. 

Jackson nodded as he watched her reaction.  “We do care, very much.  But I can see that you’re not ready to talk about it yet.  Besides, it would probably be best for you to tell your story to the Princes anyway.  For now, let’s just get you cleaned up and relaxed.  When the Lobos get here, we’ll get you into a ground-car and on your way to Lariah.  Once you’ve had a chance to rest and eat, there will be plenty of time to discuss what happened.  All right?”

“Yes, very much all right,” she replied. 

“Rob is getting your luggage for you, and I need to call the skyport to talk to the Lobos.  Do you want to wait or would you like to start that shower now?”

“Now please,” she said.

Jackson smiled, rose from his desk and walked around it to where she sat on the only comfortable chair in his office.  He bent down and lifted her into his arms. 

It suddenly occurred to Saige that she was no light-weight little girl.  “Um, I think I can walk,” she said.  “You don’t have to break your back lugging me around.”

“A small thing like you is hardly going to break my back,” he said with a grin as he carried her to the small private bathroom in his office.  He lowered her feet to the floor and waited until she got a good hold on the sink before releasing her completely. 

“How are you doing?” he asked, watching her critically.

“I’m good,” she replied.  Jackson raised a brow and she laughed.  “Okay, I’m a little shaky, but I think I can manage.”

“I have very good hearing, so if you need anything, just give a yell.”

“Thanks, Jackson,” she said.  Jackson nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind him. 

Saige had some urgent needs to fill before she did anything else.  Once that was done, she rose to her feet unsteadily, but she was pleased to note she was getting better almost by the minute. 

 She turned to look at herself in the mirror and grimaced.  Her hair was dull, dirty, and stuck together in clumps all over her head.  Her skin was pale and she had dark circles beneath her eyes.  What bothered her the most were the two long strips of bruises running across either cheek from the corners of her mouth up toward her ears.  From the gag, she realized.  They were black and purple and she knew it would be weeks before they faded completely.  She raised her hands and sighed when she saw that she had the same black and purple bruising around her wrists.  She had no doubt she’d see the same marks on her ankles the next time she was able to bend over far enough to look at them.

 “Apparently, being locked in a crate for a couple of days is not a beauty treatment,” she whispered at her reflection.  She shrugged.  It could have been worse.  A lot worse.  She counted herself lucky that all she had were a few bruises.

She turned away from the mirror and reached into the small shower stall to turn on the water.  As she waited for the water to get hot, she removed her pajamas, starting with the pants by pushing them down and letting them fall to the floor.  She stepped out of them, and started on the buttons at the front of the top.  Her fingers were still a little numb so it took awhile to get each button undone but she stuck with it.  She wasn’t quite ready to try lifting her arms over her head so unless she wanted to shower with the top on, she had to unbutton the thing.

When she freed the last button from its hole she shrugged her shoulders and let the top slide down her arms to the floor.  She looked down at herself and frowned, confused for a moment by the round purple splotches she saw on her breasts.  She pressed a finger against one lightly, and gasped at the pain. 

They were bruises, she realized with surprise.  Bruises on her breasts.  She had
bruises
on her
breasts
. 

She wondered briefly why it was that she could easily accept the bruises on her face, wrists or anywhere else on her body, but finding them on her breasts was so shocking that she couldn’t seem to absorb the information.  She turned back to the mirror and raised herself up on her toes so that she could see her breasts in the mirror. 

Looking at them this way made it very clear what had happened.  Someone had grabbed her breasts very hard while she’d been unconscious.  There were at least three clear handprint shaped bruises, and several smaller round bruises that she guessed had been caused by someone pinching her.  Suddenly she felt sick.  She hurried to the toilet and lowered herself painfully to her knees. 

Several minutes later she pulled herself back to her feet and got into the shower, turning her face up into the spray so she could rinse her mouth out a few times.  That done, she just stood there for a while, letting the hot water pour over her.  She was afraid to inspect the rest of her body, afraid of what else she might discover, but she knew she had to do it.  She just needed time to work up the nerve for it. 

She reached for the clean cloth and new bar of soap that Jackson had put in the shower for her and began slowly washing herself.  She eventually discovered that she had a few other bruises that appeared to have been caused by squeezing and pinching, like those on her breasts.  There were some on her thighs, a couple on her stomach and several on her rump, but none of those were too large or too painful. 

Her greatest relief came when she discovered that she had not been raped.  She had no soreness, no tenderness or bruising on or around her vulva, and no bleeding.  Her relief was such that she spent a few minutes sobbing quietly into the shower spray. 

Gathering herself together, she reached for the bottle of shampoo on the shelf and washed her hair twice, rinsing until it felt squeaky clean.  When she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower she felt better than she’d thought possible under the circumstances.  She toweled herself dry, noting that her legs and arms were much stronger now.  She was still sore, particularly in the joints, but the numbness was completely gone.

A soft knock on the bathroom door startled her and she raised the towel to cover herself automatically before shaking her head at herself.  If someone was knocking, it probably meant they weren’t about to barge in. 

“Yes?” she called.

“Saige, we have three suitcases here.  Tell me which one you want and then step into the shower and I’ll slip it in there for you.”

Saige thought for a moment, trying to remember what was in each suitcase.  “The blue one please,” she said as she stepped into the shower and pulled the glass door closed behind her. 

The bathroom door opened just enough for Jackson to slip the blue suitcase in, then it closed firmly.  Saige stepped out of the shower and opened the suitcase, glad that she had remembered correctly.  She pulled out her toiletries case and unzipped it with a small sigh of relief. 

Several minutes later she emerged from the bathroom in a pair of soft, stretchy pants, an oversized pink sweater and a pair of sandals.  She was wearing a soft camisole beneath the sweater because her attempts to put on a bra were simply too painful.  The sweater was the loosest item of clothing she had with her and though she felt uncomfortable without a bra on, she didn’t really have a choice.

“Feel better?” Jackson asked, noting Saige’s swollen eyes but not commenting on them.

“Yes,” she replied.  “Thank you so much for letting me use your shower.”

Like most warriors, Jackson and his brothers had only a small amount of healing magic.  More than some were gifted with, but still only enough to heal minor injuries that didn’t really need to be healed to begin with.  It was enough that he was able to sense that there was something wrong.

“Saige, are you injured?” he asked carefully.

Saige blushed, but nodded slowly.  “I have some…bruising,” she admitted. 

Jackson felt his temperature rise, edging rapidly towards a blood-rage.  “Were you…,” he tried to think of a delicate way to put it, but she shook her head sharply at the expression on his face.

“No,” she said.  “Not that.  I was just handled a bit roughly while I was unconscious.” 

Jackson noted the protective set of her arms crossed in front of her, and again he had to fight down a blood-rage.  It took several long moments before he felt able to speak normally.

“When you get to the ranch there will be an Alverian Empath there who is also a Healer,” he said as he stepped around her to retrieve her suitcase from the bathroom.  “Her name is Riata.  She is a very kind woman and an excellent Healer, as well as a good friend to Lariah.  I have no doubt that she will be pleased to Heal you so that there will be no lingering pain or marks on your body.”

Saige liked the thought of the bruises being healed.  She did not need the physical reminders.   

“It is going to be a while before the Lobos arrive,” Jackson said as came out of the bathroom with her suitcase.  He put the suitcase with the rest of her luggage and waved toward a door on the other side of his office.  “There is a small sitting room through that door.  It’s not much, but it has a sofa you can lie down on if you’d like to rest.  There is another door leading into the hall, but it’s locked and I have the key.  Nobody will be able to disturb you.”