Broken (11 page)

“Okay,
okay.
Twenty-five.”

She
spun around.
“Seventeen.”

Mack
glared at her. “Twenty and not a damn gem less.”

“It
better
be
charged,” Sky said, pulling out her gems
again. “You can buy a dozen heat cubes with that many amethysts and sell them
at a profit in the swamps, and you know it, so don’t fuck me over.”

“It’s
charged,” he said, sourly.

She
waited.

“Fine.
Count out your stupid shit in privacy. I’ll go get it,” he snarled and stalked
through the flap of leather covering the back door.

Sky
carefully counted out twenty-one amethysts, making sure to have the pouch put
away before Mack came back. When he plopped the book-sized power cell on the
counter, she frowned. “That’s a delicate piece of equipment.”

“Fuck
you.”

She
shrugged and walked forward. “Turn it on.”

He
scowled at her, but flicked the test button. The indicator on the side showed
green. “Okay. Here are your gems.” She opened her palm.

Mack
leaned forward greedily, pulling a loupe out of his pocket. He plucked one of
the gems out of her hand and examined it, grunting.
“Top
quality.”

“I
don’t deal in crap, you know that.”

He
stuffed the loupe back into his pocket. “There are twenty-one here.”

“What?
Maybe I’m a nice person.”

He
gave her a hostile look.

She
chuckled. “I want a backpack, too.”

He
sighed,
then
bent down. When he stood back up, he
tossed a canvas sack on the counter. “Take it or leave it.”

She
shook her head.
“Fine.”
She poured the gems into his
palm,
then
gathered up the sack and power cell. She
couldn’t get out of this hellhole fast enough.

“See
you around, Sky,” Mack called as she walked out the door.

She
didn’t bother to wave. The ass had better keep his distance or she’d knife
another part of his anatomy.

****

Three
hours later she was halfway home and debating whether she should just make
camp. Exhaustion dragged at her muscles. The third time she stumbled, she
stubbed her toe so hard she almost broke it.

“Damn
it,” she said, stopping to wait out the waves of pain. “That’s it. I’m done for
the day. They’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to leave.” The thought of
Jaxt
and
Zoen
made her feel
lonely and stupid, so she immediately began to gather wood for a fire.
Anything to keep herself occupied and her thoughts off the two sexy
Xyrans
.

A
short time later, she gnawed on her dried snake and tried not to think about
the leftover turkey she’d left for them to eat. She’d stopped in enough time to
make a secure camp before the sun went down, but now twilight had her spooked
for the first time in ages.

“Stop
it. You’re fine,” she told herself. She looked around. Nothing stirred, not
even a mouse. She giggled, thinking about the old nursery rhyme, but then a
stick snapped down trail and she froze, heart pounding. Several minutes later,
nothing happened. “You’re hearing things now. Great,” she told herself, giving
up on the food. She stuffed it back into her bag and leaned back, using the
power cell as a pillow. She’d be home soon enough.

And
then
Jaxt
and
Zoen
will be
gone.

****

Sky
woke trying to scream, but she couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t see
anything.
She pulled her axe free and swung, hitting someone pretty
hard, judging from the shriek of pain. She heard rough voices. Then the hand
over her mouth moved, and she suck in huge gulps of air, still fighting. Her
left hand went to her phase blade, but it was snatched away before she could
use it. She struggled with the blindfold over her eyes, and then someone
punched her so hard she fell, the world hazing over.

****

“Do
not touch her,” a harsh voice said in accented English.

Sky
opened her eyes.
Damn, my head hurts,
she thought, trying to keep still.
She had no idea where she was, except it was clearly not on Earth. The telltale
rumble of a badly tuned starship engine vibrated the metal decking against her
cheek.

“Why?
Human women are cattle. There are so many of them,” another male voice argued.

Aw,
shit. They’re
Xyrans
!
She recognized the accent. A hand touched her foot
roughly. Sky forced herself to stay limp. She needed more information before
she acted.

“Can
you not you smell her?” the first voice asked.

“She
smells strange. They all do. I do not care.” The hand around her foot
tightened, and he began to drag her along the floor.

Sky
swallowed, flexing her fingers beneath her torso. Her captors couldn’t see her
hands, fortunately. Somehow,
Zoen’s
golden knife was
still taped to her inner thigh. They hadn’t done a very good job of searching
her, the fools. She would
stab
out their eyes before
she let anyone rape her again. The hand on her ankle let go.

“Phew,
you are right. What is that stink?”

Sky
had no idea what they were talking about. She couldn’t smell anything except
the rusting metal beneath her face.

“She
has been bonded.”

The
second male sucked in air. “Bonding with a female is forbidden.”

“No,
the lords can do it, if they want. But who wants to?” The male laughed.

“The
human male sold us defective property,” the second
Xyran
said angrily. “We should cut off his balls for this.”

“He
is already dead,
Fruk
. Remember? You cut off his
head.”

“Ah, the one with the half-ear.
I remember now,”
Fruk
said,
tapping the side of Sky’s foot.

Rage
welled up. Mack did this to her?
Good thing he’s dead or I’d cut him to
pieces for this,
she thought.

“Put
her in with the others. Lord
Kaxt
will have to figure
out what to do with her.”

“Lord
Kaxt
, bah.
May he rot,”
Fruk
spat on
Sky’s leg. “He thinks he can control everyone.”

“He
is leader of one of the most ruthless tribes.”

Sky
wondered if Lord
Kaxt
had any relation to
Jaxt
. Their names were too similar for coincidence.

“He
does not control as much as he used to, not anymore,
Trezor
.
Not since his son swore blood-oath to that half-
Alphan
slave.”

Her
blood ran cold.
Jaxt’s
father was responsible for the
abductions?

“It
does not matter. Put her in the cage with the others before she wakes up. She
killed
Valzo
while
she was blindfolded,
remember? Unless you want to be around when she wakes up? I thought you liked
your slaves comatose,”
Trezor
taunted.

Footsteps
across the floor had her tensing, but the remaining
Xyran
didn’t do anything except pick up her foot and drag her again, cursing under
his breath. She remained relaxed, not wanting him to know she was awake. When
her head bumped over a threshold, she almost lost it as the pain in her head
swelled, but then he let go. She heard footsteps, and then another door clanged
shut. Sky tentatively opened her eyes.

Chapter
Nine

Jaxt
stared at the
Xyran
smugglers’ ship, skin flickering
through a dozen different colors. His rage was matched only by
Zoen’s
, who stood at his side, fists clenched.

“We
shall find her,”
Zoen
said quietly.
Too quietly.

Jaxt
looked at his
bondmate
, his blood-sworn kin, and felt
the energy in his body flare painfully.
Zoen’s
skin
was lurid red, the color only seen when a
Xyran
loses
all control, right before going on a berserker’s rampage. He’d never seen
Zoen
look like that, not even in battle—not during the
terrible skirmishes they’d had on the trophy moon of
Dero
,
not on Talus, not on any of the other dozen worlds where they’d fought
together.

“She
has the tracker,”
Jaxt
said, wrestling his skin back
to flesh-normal with effort. Perhaps if he calmed down, so, too, would
Zoen
.

“Yes.”

“We
have the power cell.”
Jaxt’s
put a hand on
Zoen’s
wrist.

His
bondmate
bared his fangs and hissed at him, quick as
a snake striking prey.

Jaxt
glowered, standing straighter. “Stand down,
Zoen
. I
am not your enemy.”

“I
am going to rip them to pieces,”
Zoen
said, low and
heated. “I am going to paint their ship with their blood until not one is left
alive.”

A
fierce determination filled
Jaxt
. “Yes. And I will
help you.”

****

“Who
are you?” a young blonde woman asked tentatively. She sat crouched in the
middle of the group of ragged women. They wore a motley collection of worn-out
clothing: a few dresses, leggings, but no shoes. Most of the cloth was grey and
torn from too many
washings
.

Sky
pushed up from the floor to a sitting position, blinking to clear her eyes. Her
head still hurt like hell, but at least she could think. She looked the women
over, frowning when she saw a couple of girls who couldn’t be more than
fourteen, maybe fifteen.

“I’m
Sky. Where are we?”

One
of the older women looked away, clearly on the verge of losing it entirely. She
had bruises from her cheek down to her collarbone.

“Your
hair is all different colors,” one of the girls said, smiling shyly. “And it
sticks up!”

“
Shh
, Louisa,” the woman next to her said.

“No,
don’t shush her.” Sky touched her hair lightly. “I don’t mind.” Her hair felt
flat on one side, probably from her capture, so she fluffed it up with her
fingers into the loose style she preferred. “I cut my hair like this because I
like it. It’s easy to take care of. And I dyed it these colors to blend in with
the land where I live.” She smiled gently at the girl. “It makes it hard to
find me.”

“Somebody
found you, or you wouldn’t be here,” the slightly older girl said. She stood
up, brushing off the women’s hands when they tried to keep her down. “Leave me
alone. She’s not going to hurt me.”

Sky
rolled her shoulders and arms, trying to figure out how damaged she was.
Surprisingly, except for her head, she felt mostly okay. She stood up, testing
her balance.
Also good.
The girl walked over to her.

“You’re
Sky Martha Strider, aren’t you?” the girl asked.

Sky’s
raised an eyebrow. “No one has called me by my full name in years.”

“They
talk about you, you know. ‘
The one who got away.’”
The
girl used air quotes to back up her belligerence.

It
would take a lot more than one small girl’s attitude to ruffle Sky.

“Cori,
come back,” an older woman called, her tone resigned.

“It’s
okay,” Sky said, trying to figure out what she was supposed to have gotten away
from.
Her life?
Graeme?
“I
don’t know what you mean. I didn’t escape the
Xyrans
,
as you can see.” She swept her arm out to encompass the cell. She looked
around: grey metal box, check.
One door, check.
Basic latrine in the corner, check.

“I
heard you escaped the refugee camps and live on your own. No one does that,”
Cori stated, not moving.

How
to respond to that? Sure, she’d escaped the refugee camps, but living in the
smugglers’ settlement with Graeme hadn’t been particularly fun. “I didn’t try
to live on my own until I was strong enough to take care of myself,” she
hedged.

The
girl’s shoulders slumped, breaking Sky’s heart.
Dammit, no more strays,
remember?
she
told herself.
Look what happened
last time. You got attached to
Jaxt
and his stupid,
sexy blood-kin.
She swallowed down a pang of worry over them. She hadn’t
brought back the power cell like she’d promised.
They’re giant alien
warriors. They can take care of themselves. And it seems they were right about
putting that tracker in me, too.