Origin Page 2

  There he went with that languid, drawn out way of speaking. With his warm hands on my skin and the proximity of his body to mine, I felt that strange heat in my gut again. I quickly cut his hair free, squeezed the sides of the box knife again, and handed it back. Along with the hair.

  Clay peeked over his shoulder and laughed. “That is a lot, isn’t it? I always thought that long hair was impractical.”

  “Gwinarians make it work.” Me. I said that. I directly contradicted something a man said. Familiar fear poured through me, and I started to shake.

  Anders tightened his lips and leaned close to me. “Neither I nor Clay will ever hurt you. You can get away with saying anything you want. Test us as many times as you want. You will not be hurt again. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” I said, then took a deep breath. “But you need to understand something too.” I picked up the laser gun. “I’ve been someone’s property for longer than I can remember, and I’ve never been allowed to speak my mind. My reactions are ingrained. If you get mad every time I start shaking, you’ll be mad a lot.”

  Claybourne chuckled as he turned to continue down the narrow passage. “I knew it. Still fight.”

  “Don’t know why you’re laughing, Clay. You’re the one who’s gonna have to watch his mouth with that wicked temper of yours.”

  “Only with you, Sullivan. Only with you.” He suddenly stopped, lowered his voice to a whisper. “Hear that?”

  Something slammed on the other side of the wall and the loud noise was followed by a grunt of pain. I tapped on Anders’s arm and he looked back at me. Claybourne peeked over his shoulder. “We’re nearing the end and have to be quiet in this part,” I whispered.

  They nodded before continuing. The passage widened enough for us to stand together as we reached the door. The sounds of fighting had faded and we stood for a few moments while Claybourne rested his ear against the metal wall. He turned to us and winked at me. “I think the enforcers already passed through this way, but take the safety off your laser, just in case.”

  I nodded, careful to keep it pointed down afterward. Stomach in knots, I knew that once we passed through this door, we’d either make it or die. My owner would never let me live this time—not after helping the men who’d invaded his ship.

  Claybourne nudged the door open slightly to peer through, then pushed it wide. He shot the lone guard before waving us through. “Enforcers are that way, so we’re going this way.” He pointed, took off with a confident stride, Anders at his side. I followed, glancing over my shoulder every now and then because it felt like we were being watched. Then I remembered the cameras. My owner had them installed in the corner of every passageway. They were so small they blended right into the side of the round, blue lights lining the tops of the walls. Stopping, I stared up at the light I knew held the camera, hoping that he watched as I lifted the laser with both hands and shot it out.

  Lowering the gun, I found both men had turned to watch me. Anders was nodding in approval, a new light in his green eyes. “Seems our captain was right about you.”

  “Do you know where all the cameras are?” Claybourne asked.

  I slowly nodded. “My owner liked to make me watch things that went on up here.”

  Cursing, Claybourne turned and stomped off, muttering under his breath.

  If I’d had another life, I would have enjoyed watching him walk. He moved with purpose, shoulders forward, legs taking even, precise strides, head tilted down while it moved slightly left and right as he watched everything around us. He wasn’t as big as Anders, but I instinctively knew he was dangerous.

  We passed closed doors and I hoped the enforcers would take all the people enslaved on this ship and get them help, set them free. But I knew enough about the government to know that some wouldn’t make it—some would be resold. The only time my owner had shared me was when certain government officials came to dinner. He’d dress me up, show me off and make me pleasure them. I never understood why they wanted me when there were so many other slaves or willing volunteers in the rooms above they could do anything to. My owner didn’t let them mark me unless he was involved. That was for him alone and he reminded me every single time I performed for one of the men whom I suspected blackmailed him. They had something on him—something he wanted nobody finding out.

  Claybourne pointed at a blue light about three yards from him and I nodded. He shot out the light. “Thanks for giving us the drives. My brother has already hacked into Lashin’s system to find some pretty rotten files, but do you know what else the man was hiding?”

  I shook my head. “No, but there are others who do. He was being blackmailed.”

  The captain came back to me, started to put his hands on my shoulders, but I flinched back, causing him to frown. “I’m sorry. As I said before, I seem compelled to touch you. Do you know who blackmailed him?”

  “Not their names, but I would recognize them easily.” I looked away from him, feeling heat creep up my neck. “I was part of the payoff. Got to know them all personally.”

  “Bastilleen isn’t good enough for this fucker,” Anders muttered.

  “I’m not disagreeing with you this time.” Claybourne stared at me, eyes full of something that made my stomach twist up in shame.

  Should I explain I didn’t want to know those men and women personally? Would they think a forced woman could grow to love what was done to her? Because I knew that could happen. The things my owner forced me to watch over the years were proof enough. Some trapped in those rooms did grow to love it, especially when there were drugs involved. I looked at the door to my left and stepped forward, my hand shaking as I reached for the key panel. I never loved it. Any of it.

  This time, Claybourne did touch me. My hand. “Don’t,” he said, voice low. “You might not want to see what’s on the other side.

  “I’ve been forced to watch what’s on the other side of these doors since I was a young girl. I don’t want—” I broke off, chewing hard on my bottom lip. “I don’t want to leave everyone. Some of the government officials are just as bad as the man who ran this ship.”

  “I called someone I know personally to come in here and help these people. Someone I trust. Believe me, they will go where they need to go. We don’t have room on my ship for more people.”

  “Then why are you taking me?”

  “Because I find I have no choice.” He nodded at the big blond behind him. “And besides, Anders is already attached. I can tell.”

  “I am,” Anders agreed.

  I shook my head. “Don’t. Don’t get attached to me. Not me.” I shivered as a cold breeze crept down the passageway and into my chest.

  Anders cursed and quickly undid the metal connectors on his brown shirt before handing my gun to Claybourne and dropping the shirt over my shoulders. It draped me like a cape, but I slid my hands into the sleeves. The most warm, enticing scent wafted from the material. Underneath the shirt, Anders wore another sleeveless brown shirt and I had to look away quickly. His arms…

  Claybourne snorted. “Felt like scaring the woman with those tree trunks you call arms?”

  Anders leered. “Admiring them? Missing them wrapped around that tight body of yours?”

  “I do not.” Claybourne scowled and brushed past him. “Come on, we’ve dawdled enough.

  Anders and I followed and I felt small next to him. His arms were like tree trunks, as were his legs. His hair did look silly with a huge chunk off the back. A smile played about my lips, but I didn’t remember how to let it free, so it faded away only to fight to return when Anders leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Did he say we’d diddled enough, because you should probably know now that when it comes to Clay, there is never enough diddling.”

  I immediately pictured Anders “diddling” the captain, his big body pumping, ass flexing as he held the smaller man spread open underneath him. I’d seen that happen to others more times than I could count, but the thought of these two didn’t fill me with disg
ust—no, not disgust, but something…warmer. The heat that scorched through my lower body frightened me enough to nearly make me walk past Claybourne. I’d never felt anything like it before.

  He waved his hand at a blue light and I lifted my arms to aim at the camera I knew was there, staring into it for a long time first, hoping my owner watched me rebel. The shattering of glass added to the pleasure I already felt. Pleasure that shocked the hell out of me because I’d been sure I was defective somehow. Nothing that had been done to me—even the few who tried to make me enjoy it—had sent this strange, clenching warmth to pool between my legs.

  Watching the two beautiful men walk, I couldn’t stop my mind from supplying images, one hotter than the last. Did they drop the banter to truly make love to each other? Or had they ever been lovers, because it was apparent they weren’t intimate now—though the blond sure wanted to be. Had they touched and caressed? Kissed? I’d only been able to imagine that true affection existed out there, that some people touched for love.

  The young Gwinarian, Bastian, had told me there could be true beauty in a touch. I didn’t think it could be that way for me. But…I thought I might like to watch two consenting adults love each other in a setting that wasn’t one of payment for pleasure. My gaze slid down to Claybourne’s backside. Maybe he was the one who did the actual diddling. If there was one thing I’d learned after all these years, it was not to judge a person’s kink from their packaging. I’d seen the smallest woman dominate a room of huge men. Even watching that hadn’t worked for me. I’d been convinced that part of me had been destroyed, but here I was, escaping, making plans and thinking about people having sex.

  The stinging in my leg turned to a deep, aching stab of pain. I kept my expression clear, having mastered the art of hiding my suffering from a young age. When we reached the end of the last passageway, I didn’t hesitate this time. I shot out the camera.

  Anders put out an arm to stop us from opening the paneled door. “Clay, I got some crazy skitters crawlin’ up my back. This is too easy.”

  “Agreed.” Claybourne stepped close to Anders, spoke low. “I expected this part of the ship to be cleared out, but there should be an enforcer or two loitering to keep an eye on the rooms.”

  “The rooms are all locked,” I offered. “Only the top two decks have rooms for those who have paid to be here as entertainment. These are all people who were taken.”

  “Like you.” Anders wasn’t asking.

  I nodded.

  He clenched his jaw. “From here on out, no one is going to make you do anything against your will.”

  “I already told her that.” Claybourne put his ear to the door, listened for several long moments. He nearly fell through when the door swung open.

  I didn’t hesitate, lifting my gun to fire at the massive man in the doorway.

  “No!” Anders knocked the gun up, my shot taking out a couple of lights in the swing. “He’s with us.”

  Looking at the block of man filling the doorway, I decided I’d be keeping my gun with me at all times. Everything about him was wide, from his hips, to his shoulders to his bald head. Even his nose lay flattened and stretched across the center of his face.

  “Don’t let Juniper make you nervous. He’s a teddy bear.”

  I wouldn’t be taking their word on that one.

  “Thanks for clearing the way, Juni.” Anders slapped him on the shoulder as he passed him. I moved faster, staying close to the blond man. My gut had already told me I could trust him and the captain. I’d stick to them until I figured out where I’d go. And what I’d do when I got there.

  I’d been a slave most of my life and had no skills other than fixing myself up to look like a piece of art so I could kneel next to a man’s chair. Or maybe to keep perfectly quiet so he stayed relaxed and didn’t mark up my skin or break my bones.

  We finally reached a part of the ship teaming with noise. I stayed close to Anders, clutching the big shirt around my body with one hand while holding the gun under the material with the other.

  “Looks like we’re not getting out of here without talking to them first. This group is okay. It’s the one I called.” Claybourne strode up to someone he obviously knew and leaned in to speak quietly.

  The enforcer just behind the man smirked nastily when he got a good look at me. He must have made an even nastier comment because Claybourne suddenly moved and had the man by the throat. The much bigger man. Whipcord strength showed in the thick veins lining the captain’s wrist. It showed in the flexing muscles of his arm through the material of the shirt as he easily kept the man from getting away. He spoke loud enough for me to hear—for them all to hear.

  “She is a Gwinarian. We are returning to Kithra, so we’re taking her home.”

  Another enforcer stepped up, the blue lights reflecting on his white helmet, making it look polka-dotted. “Canfield, we believe this was the personal slave of Lashin himself. She must know things and will have to be questioned. According to our records, she’s been here for fourteen years. She was the slave of the person who ran this ship before Lashin changed his identity and took over eight years ago.”

  Anders turned and pulled my hand away from the front of the shirt. He quickly did up the fasteners then slid his palm over mine, threading our fingers together. I didn’t think to pull back, to protest, only looked up at him in surprise because I could actually feel the anger coming off him. Why did they care what my life had been like? They didn’t know me. For a smart-talking big hunk of a man, Anders had a soft center. And apparently, he didn’t care who saw it. I squeezed his fingers, earning a look of surprise.

  Claybourne hadn’t let go of the first man, who was starting to turn purple. “You’re telling me this woman has been enslaved since she was a young girl and instead of letting her go home, you want to what? Put her in a cell to be questioned? No.” He turned and aimed a look that would have scared me if he’d used it when he’d first come into my owner’s room at the man who’d spoken. “You can question her over vids when she is safely on my ship. I’m taking her to Kithra, where her people will care for her.”

  The enforcer held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Just let him go before he suffocates.”

  Claybourne dropped the man, who fell to his knees coughing and choking. He came back and stopped in front of me. “You do want to go with us, right? Because it is your choice. Do you understand me? You will always have a choice.”

  I looked around at the enforcers in their white uniforms, at the gathering of paying clients lined up like a chain against the wall, at the younger slaves filing into the area from the lower floors. “Can you promise me the ones here like me will get to go home?” I stared at Claybourne but I asked the question of the enforcer.

  “I can. Families will be notified as soon as we have all their names.”

  “Some of them…might not remember.” I finally looked at him, watched his expression, hoping for a hint of compassion. I found it in the softening of his eyes as he met my gaze.

  “Do you remember your name?” he asked.

  “No. But I do remember that my family was on Kithra, so there is no one to contact for me anyway.” I took a deep breath, knowing I could be making the wrong decision, but also knowing I needed to be far, far away from this ship. Strange at it seemed, even to me, some part of me trusted Anders and Claybourne. “I will go with them.”

  Anders didn’t let me go as we left the ship and walked through the space station toward their vessel. I stood out in Anders’s big shirt with the skimpy lace bodysuit showing underneath. I still wore the dainty black lace slippers that matched the outfit and every so often, pieces of trash dug into the soft soles, hurting my feet. But I never winced, never made a sound. The pain didn’t compare with the fire of my inner thighs anyway.

  We stopped and I gazed in skepticism at the tiny ship that would be my home for the trip back. I knew it would take at least a month for us to reach the Kithran Sector. The ship was really small. It could have
fit into a fourth of the lowest deck of the entertainment ship, but it was well cared for—shiny and clean.

  “Welcome to the Ultio Ultionis.”

  Claybourne waved his hand and the loud sound of hydraulics fought with the noise of the busy space station as the loading hatch came down. He stepped aboard and turned to hold his hand out to me. I glanced up at Anders, who smiled and lifted our linked hands before transferring my hold to his captain. But I wouldn’t move until I knew he was coming too. He seemed to understand, that crooked grin pulling his lips as he placed his hand gently on the small of my back. “I have to leave again. You need clothes, shoes and uh, other lady stuff. I’m sure there’s some kind of general store here.”

  Other lady stuff.

  I’d never owned anything, not even the makeup used to dress up my face for my owner’s guests. But I did have something. Something I decided to share with these men who were going out of their way to make me feel comfortable. I tugged Claybourne to a stop. Both men stood before me. “I lied to that enforcer. Partially. I don’t know my family name, but I do remember my first name. It’s Siri.”

  Chapter Three

  The clothes Anders purchased for me would have made me laugh if I remembered how. I did enjoy the curl of amusement in my belly as he scowled and dropped a small pile of them on the bunk in the small room they’d given me to use. He set a box of what I guessed were lady things on the small table bolted to the wall.

  “One store on this rock and the place was a joke. The clothes…well, they’re all plain and perfectly serviceable. It was either that or uh, more like what you have on under my shirt. I can imagine you’ve seen enough of those type clothes to last a lifetime. I got several pairs of shoes in different sizes. There was only one nice thing in that silly store.” He rummaged in the pile then pulled out a wrapped present from the bottom, handing it to me.

  I held the gift in my lap, not sure I could open it. A memory surfaced of another time, another gift. I saw a brief glimpse of a smiling woman with freckles like mine. A surge of love came with the memory. It wasn’t the first time I’d remembered her face. “I think the last person to give me a gift was my mother.”