My Forever (18 page)

“How did you know?” Lucas asked, not bothering to hide his contempt.

“Your employees were more than cooperative in giving me information. I found it a little too coincidental that you used your power then disappeared at the same time the human who was living with you did. It doesn’t match your MO of solitude to take a plaything with you into hiding. Naturally, I deduced that you had bonded with him. It was appalling to find you had lowered yourself to mate with a human, but after seeing him, I can’t say I blame you.”

“How did you find us?”

“We’ve been keeping tabs on Bastian for years. It took us a while to locate him. He’s not exactly sociable with his own kind, but after that I knew it was only a matter of time before you contacted him again. Don’t worry. He’s of no use to us. My men have already informed him that if he gets any bright ideas like running to the Queen or attempting a suicide rescue, your life will be forfeit. Other than that, he’s free to do whatever he wants.”

“And what about my mate?”

Connor fixed him with a vacant, black stare. “That depends on you. I can offer the same proposal for him as I did for Bastian. If you work for me, I’ll see that he spends the rest of his years living comfortably and financially stable—under supervision, of course.”

Lucas’ suspicions rose. The ability for mates to speak telepathically with each other was common knowledge to his people. The only way to keep him from talking to Kyle and finding him was if his mate remained in an unconscious state. “What are you not telling me, Connor?”

With a malicious twist of his lips, the commander replied, “Oh that’s right. You haven’t been around to hear about our latest breakthrough. You remember Sereck, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “He developed this wonderful drug that inhibits certain receptors in the brain, effectively cutting off the ability to receive messages sent telepathically. There is no lasting damage as far as we know, but I’m afraid you two won’t be communicating with each other again.

“The injections need to be administered bi-weekly, but I think we can wait for yours until we get to the compound. The dose we gave your little toy was laced with a powerful sedative. He’ll be out for hours.”
 

Clenching his fists, Lucas turned his gaze out onto the flat land passing by. One swift hit with the heel of his hand would end Connor’s miserable life and give him a hell of a lot of pleasure, but he stifled the urge. “He is my mate and you will refer to him as such.”

“Fine. I’ll keep my men from your pretty little
mate
if you agree to come on board.”

“I want him put up in a house and given a monthly allowance that will support him no matter what he wants to do with it. I also want real-time video recordings of him every week. His privacy is not to be disturbed, however. Install the camera in a fitting location and access it via remote control so that I can see that he is unharmed. One bruise or scar on him and the deal is off. Your health depends on his.”

Connor leant back to put more distance between them even as his chest puffed up in triumph. Lucas let him have it. Bastian was still free and his power undiscovered. It would take his friend some time to find Kyle, but he had no doubt that Bastian wouldn’t stop until his mate was safely in his care again. The only decision to make was whether or not he should join them after their escape. Both men would run with him regardless of how long it took to shake the Mackaeo, but if they were caught again, Kyle and Bastian would suffer far worse than they were now.

No. He couldn’t leave. The risk was too great. Tsielen bonded for life, but that didn’t make Kyle incapable of loving others. Lucas would rather he find happiness under the protection of Bastian than take that slim chance that he become a prisoner for the remainder of his days.

* * * *

Several hours later, he could make out the lights of the compound in the empty darkness of the desert night. Instead of the main entrance, the driver took them in through the back.

“Not going to gloat about your victory in retrieving a deserter?”

Connor flicked him an annoyed glance. “No one leaves the Mackaeo. You died days after you left. Killed in action by a rogue Tsielen.”

“So only you and your men know I’m alive?”

“Yes. I’ll not be made a fool of.”
  

All this time he thought he’d been chased by the entire Order. Disclaiming Connor’s false report by somehow making others aware of his existence was a fleeting idea and quashed as quickly as it came. It would only make things worse. If he weren’t placed in custody and executed for renouncing the vows he took to protect his race, he would be reinstated into the Order and essentially returned to his former life.

As for exposing Connor and his band for the lying thieves they were, it would be his word against the head commander of the Mackaeo. He had no proof. Had he accepted Connor’s initial invitation to join his group and gathered evidence, participation would have been necessary. Thus his crimes would have been no less punishable than that of the others. Extenuating circumstances did not exist among the rules of the Order. Kyle would still be denied contact with him owing to the law prohibiting members of the Mackaeo to take a mate, and the relative freedom Connor was proposing for his mate would be forfeit.
 

Once in the main garage, they took the outer elevator directly down to the first floor below ground level. There were three floors underground consisting of the weapons rooms, training facilities, and storage and holding cells for those criminals waiting for transport and sentencing. Above ground lay the separate living apartments for each Mackaeo, spread out in a circular pattern with a larger building in the middle where they could congregate for meetings and social gatherings.

Connor and the driver walked him down a long enclosed corridor containing several doors leading to the holding cells and unlocked one on the far end. Inside was a standard sized cot and other basic amenities.

“These living arrangements won’t last long. During the past few months we’ve been sizing down each compound and putting up others. Spreading our ranks to cover more of this country and others. In about a week, you’ll be assigned an apartment with Rodego.”

“How kind of you. So I’m assuming that this compound will be run solely by you and your men?”

“Yes. It should make your life and our operations run more smoothly, don’t you think? I’m not a completely unreasonable man. You’re not a prisoner here, merely a comrade who will remain under close supervision for the duration of your stay.”

“You mean for the rest of my life.”

Connor shrugged nonchalantly. “Someone will be in shortly with your injection and some food. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll have a file sent to you on your upcoming assignment.”

They left him alone, locking the door from the outside. Shortly afterwards, a man came in with a tray of food and a needle containing the serum that would temporarily sever the mental link between him and his mate. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to submit to the injection and refrained from ripping the man’s throat out.

Lucas spent the rest of the night exercising. It helped him to focus, but every alternative for his situation or plan of escape ended with there being too much risk to Kyle. The only thing that would bring him peace would be the knowledge that Bastian had managed to find his mate and ensure that he was happy. Unfortunately, Connor would never let him know if it happened. It would diminish too much of his control over Lucas.

Chapter Ten

Kyle awoke to the jostling of a hard body pressed tightly against his. Firm muscles flexed along his flesh underneath his layer of clothing as body heat warmed his chilled skin.
It had all been a dream.
The men. Lucas’ panicked warning. Bastian fighting to get to him. All of it. He wasn’t sure which of his Doms was carrying him now, but the presence of either one was strong enough to drive his fears away.

Snuggling in, he inhaled deeply and immediately tensed. The scent was wrong, as was the pressure of the fingers on his arm and thigh holding him in place and bordering on painful. The low chuckle that drifted to his ears sent a fissure of alarm racing down his spine.
 
Opening his eyes, he peered up into a face that didn’t even slightly resemble those of his Doms.

Not a dream.

Kyle shoved at the man’s chest and bucked his legs out. His sudden action gained him a few seconds to roll out of the large arms and land clumsily on his feet but a hand clenched his hair and wrenched him back. An arm banded around his arms and chest, constricting his airflow and lifting him from the ground.

“Don’t bruise him. We need him ready for auction by the end of the week.”

Flinging his legs wildly, he felt a sliver of satisfaction when his right foot connected with something solid followed by a curse. When his eyes flew open again, it was just in time to see a fist hook towards his stomach. Engulfing pain radiated from his gut but his body was denied the involuntary reflex to curl in on itself. More hands snatched his ankles and stretched out his tender abs between two men. Still he continued to struggle.

“This one’s a fighter. It’ll lower his value.” The voice came from the man crushing him.

Another off to his side replied, “After the auction, I’ll teach him his place. It’ll take us at least two weeks to deliver him to his new owner. He should be healed up by then.”

Unmitigated terror leapt into his heart and he doubled his efforts but they were in vain. A heavy iron door was opened leading to a small, windowless room made entirely of cement with a floor drain in the centre. The two men holding him flung him inside where he landed roughly on the ground, rolling several feet with his momentum.

“Strip.”

Kyle rose shakily to his feet and glowered at the pair blocking the doorway. They parted to admit a third, who stood taller than them by at least five inches, with a bald head and square body. His eyes appeared black in the dim light of the overhead, caged bulb and his face expressionless. He nodded to the others, who began to advance on Kyle. He was outnumbered, outmuscled and definitely not dealing with his own species, but still he had to fight.

His swing at the first man was easily dodged and a vicious punch to the back of his head sent him reeling into the second. They had him stripped of every article of clothing before he could manage to look up again. Through blurred vision, he saw that all three were once more at the door. One held a thick hose with its large nozzle pointed directly at him.

Kyle scrambled until his back hit the wall but there was nowhere to run. The man flipped the latch on top and an explosive current of water shot out. It hit his face before he could react, burning his eyes and blasting down his throat in a choking torrent. The force kept him braced against the wall like a magnet and it took all of his strength to twist to the side to shelter his face and crotch. Thousands of sharp, icy needles stabbed him mercilessly. The freezing barrage numbed his skin instantly but the biting pain—like knives cutting every inch of him—remained.

The stream switched angles and drove him up from his crouched position. Just as he was about the move to his other side, it hit his cock and he screamed in agony. Kyle lost track of time. The slicing pain and aching numbness sapped every ounce of energy from him until he was reduced to a quaking mass of sodden flesh and bones.

The pounding flow ended abruptly. Hands jerked him in different directions as another set of clothes was tugged over his naked body. The movements cleared his ears of water and he was able to make out parts of the conversation going on around him.

“…see the scars on his back? Do you think Deluc…”

“…obviously he was a slave once, he will be again…”

“…find a buyer who enjoys the harsh stuff. We’ll still get a decent cut. He’s got the looks…”

Kyle felt himself being hoisted over the shoulder of one of the men. They were walking again and the action caused the shoulder blade to jut into his tender stomach. It wasn’t long before he was tossed onto another hard cement floor with the sound of a door slamming shut ringing in his ears. In misery he lay there, rattling with convulsive shivers and lacking the strength to draw his arms and legs in close. A moan escaped at the feel of a gentle touch to his side.

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

The tone was high-pitched and soothing, that of a young woman. She brushed her fingers through his soaked bangs and lifted them. Cracking his lids open over what felt like layers of sand, he made out the form of a small yet voluptuous woman hunched over him.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

When his frozen lips refused to shape a reply, she called out to someone and slowly raised him into a sitting position. A man appeared, perhaps a few years older than him, and hooked Kyle’s left arm over his shoulders while the woman took his right. Too weak to protest, he was led to the back of the room where more men and women sat huddled together for warmth.

After laying him down on a threadbare blanket, the woman spooned him from behind while the man tucked another, slightly thicker covering over them. He was dimly surprised to find the woman taller than he’d first guessed. Her chin rested just above the crown of his head and her long limbs draped over his.

Then the pain of heat set in. The piercing sting of needles returned and set fire to his skin and extremities. Humiliation flooded him as whimpers he couldn’t suppress escaped from his raw throat, attesting to his weakness, but the woman merely held him closer.