Captive Read online

  “Me?” She was as incredulous as Moe had been only minutes before. “You’ve obviously been stunned too many times.”

  “Whose fault is that?” he teased. Not bothering to wait for her reply, he continued. “Have you never wondered why no one ever turned you in before? I’ll bet you have friends you don’t even know about. People who have been rooting for you for years. People who admire your spirit and your ability to thwart Pelarus. If you were to come forward, the masses would rally behind you.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?” Klara certainly didn’t.

  Or did she?

  She thought back. All the shouts and threats and raised fists… Yet no one had ever caught up with her or any member of her gang. She could wear a cloak that didn’t do very much to conceal her identity, and still no one reported her. Well, perhaps that last captive she’d tried to sell. She never told her friends, but she’d had to let the man go. Just as she’d ultimately done with Moe.

  That explains so much. She’d been making money selling captives, but the supply had dried up when the buyers stopped buying.

  “Pelarus must’ve gotten to my buyers,” she mused. “That’s why they stopped paying for captives. Then the Nedwuts started chasing us. I always wondered why they were willing to accept bribes. They were probably told to do that in order to starve me into submitting to Pelarus.” She looked at Moe. “And then you came along and he really got desperate. You were right. He knew you were a threat. That is, if I truly accept that Pelarus wants me as his concubine. Seems like an awful lot of trouble for one woman.”

  “One very special, beautiful, talented woman.” Taking her hand, Moe raised it to his lips. Sparks of desire skimmed over her skin, then dove deep inside her, lightly caressing her heart before landing squarely in her core. “Oh, yeah. You’re worth the trouble. Even if all he had to do was give orders to his henchmen. You’re worth that and much, much more.”

  Chapter 11

  The trouble with spearheading a revolution was that you couldn’t simply overthrow the government and kiss the place goodbye. If you succeeded and survived, you were required to hang around for the aftermath. And Klara wanted to leave Haedus Nine. Desperately.

  Even though it was the only home she’d ever known, she felt no sentiments toward any part of it. Her gang would undoubtedly jump at the chance to come with her.

  If Moe was right about this trust fund and that there was a home waiting for her on Terra Minor, that was probably the best place for her to go.

  Or it would have been if she hadn’t met up with Moe.

  His presence changed everything, and she still wasn’t sure how to feel about him, or what she should do. Was she supposed to go with him wherever he went? He used to have a ship, but now it was gone. How could he replace it if he’d already spent his share of the money? He talked like he had money in a bank somewhere. She had no idea how that worked. Surely he hadn’t made a deposit while he was here on Haedus Nine. Or maybe he had. He’d talked like he’d been paid a large sum for the delivery he’d made, and while he’d had a substantial amount of credits in his wallet, there wasn’t that much. Did depositing money on one world mean he could access it elsewhere? Did banks communicate with one another from planet to planet?

  God, I feel so stupid.

  It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know how the galaxy worked. She’d never truly been part of it. Her mother had taught her as much as she could, but her education had also been scanty, and anyone working as a hooker usually did so because there were no other options. Here on Haedus, Delaroh had worked in a bar. If she’d done any sex work, Klara hadn’t known about it.

  “You haven’t a clue how people feel about you and your gang, have you?” Moe said, interrupting her thoughts. “Tell me, have you ever actually spoken with any of the locals?”

  “Not for a long time,” she replied. “We keep to ourselves.”

  “I’m guessing your mother was something of a heroine for refusing Pelarus, and you’ve taken it a few steps further. First by stealing from him, and then by competing with him for gladiators. You’re a rebel and you don’t even know it. I’ll bet you have quite a reputation around here. What’s surprising is that no one has ever said anything to you.”

  “That’s because I have no reputation,” she insisted. “If anything, I’m an outlaw who the local merchants would love to see thrown in a dungeon or the arena. They’d probably cheer like crazy when some vicious bastard finally killed me.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” he said. “I truly do. Your wanted posters are probably covered with graffiti from your admiring supporters.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she studied him for a moment. He seemed sincere, but what he was suggesting couldn’t possibly be true. “Where are you getting this crap? I don’t have any supporters, admiring or otherwise.”

  “I think you’re wrong,” he said. “Let’s do a little experiment, shall we? Let’s walk to the bank and see what happens.”

  “Out in the open?” Even Temfilk seemed aghast at such careless behavior. “No way!”

  Nexbit brushed the handle of his pistol with trembling fingers as though ensuring he hadn’t dropped it. “We’ll stun any Nedwuts we see, right?”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” Moe said. “But if we don’t run into any, we should be fine.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Nobody bothered you in that bar,” he said, with all the patience of an adult explaining a difficult concept to a child. “If they had, I’d have noticed, because I was itching for a fight. I’m guessing even after you stunned me, nobody lifted a finger to stop you from dragging me out of there.” His intense gaze never left hers. “Did they?”

  “We didn’t drag you,” Nexbit said helpfully. “I morphed into a Terran and carried—”

  “That’s irrelevant,” Klara snapped. With an apologetic glance at the Sympaticon, she continued, “Nobody stopped us because they either don’t care enough to get involved or they lack the courage to intervene.” Moe couldn’t be right. No possible way.

  Moe shook his head slowly. “I don’t believe that’s the reason. I believe their lack of interference is actually a sign of respect.”

  “Moe, are you sure those stuns didn’t rattle your brains?” To his credit, Temfilk sounded more concerned than sarcastic. However, Klara was inclined to agree.

  “My brains are fine.” Moe sat back on his heels. “I’m an outsider. I can see what you don’t see. Tell me this: has anyone aside from Nedwuts ever come looking for you?”

  Frowning, Klara thought back over the past year or so. She’d been chased quite a lot and always by Nedwuts. She’d assumed it was because Pelarus only hired henchmen who were larger and stronger than the average Haedusian. Granted, Terrans and Herps also fit that description, but so far, she’d only dealt with Nedwuts. “Well, no.”

  “You see? If the local merchants were after your hides, they’d have put together a posse and come after you long ago, and they probably wouldn’t have hired Nedwuts. I’m guessing Pelarus doesn’t give a damn if you steal pizzas, even if you steal them from him. He wants you, and if he never bothered you until recently, it could be that he didn’t know you were still alive. But it’s more likely that since you’ve grown up, you appeal to him as much as your mother did. Maybe even more.”

  Fury ripped through Klara like a Timaval wind, and she leaped to her feet. “He’d like to control me the way he tried to control my mother. She never submitted to him, and neither will I. I’d die first!”

  “That’s the spirit!” Moe said, grinning. “Now you need to show the rest of this town exactly how much spirit you have.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s walk down the street like we own the place and see who applauds.”

  As Klara took Moe’s hand, her rage dissipated slightly, soothed by the warmth flowing from him. Touching this man made her anger, however righteous it might have been, seem somehow inappropriate. Images of a life with him
flickered past her mind’s eye. Safe, comfortable, loving…

  “We’re more likely to be shot at than applauded,” Temfilk muttered, bringing Klara’s thoughts back to the current reality. “But I’m game if you are.”

  Nexbit sighed. “Me, too.” He nodded toward the Racks. “And they’ll do anything you ask them to.”

  Klara wasn’t so sure. The Racks had always seemed to trust her, and she hated to betray that trust. “What about you guys? Do you understand what’s going on?”

  Bik’s gaze was even more adoring than usual, and Jal and Lis both nodded with unabashed enthusiasm. “Yah, boss,” they said in unison.

  “Those are the first intelligible words I’ve heard them say,” Moe said.

  “That’s because they never learned to speak properly,” Temfilk explained. “We think they might’ve been too young when they were taken from their parents. Hadn’t learned the Rackensprie language, much less Stantongue. They seem to understand us well enough, but ‘yah, boss’ and ‘no, boss’ is pretty much the extent of their vocabulary. We’ve never been able to make much sense of their chatter.”

  For a moment, Klara could’ve sworn she saw tears welling up in Moe’s eyes.

  “That’s so sad,” he whispered. “They were really taken that young?”

  Oh, god. He’s not only gorgeous, honest, and kind—not to mention the fastest being I’ve ever encountered—he actually has a heart.

  Blinking hard, Klara swallowed her own sob, hoping her voice didn’t betray her. “We have no idea how long the kidnapper had them before dumping them here. But that’s what we’ve decided.” As she stroked Bik’s head, his eyes took on the same dreamy expression they always did. “I’ve heard that Racks are disagreeable as a rule, but these guys have never been anything but sweet with us.”

  “That’s because you’ve taken care of them and treated them with kindness,” Moe said gently. “Believe me, it makes a difference.”

  Honest to Leon, if he keeps that up, I’ll be crying too.

  “Maybe so,” was all she managed to say. She scratched Jal and Lis beneath their chins—their preferred caress—and each of them responded with the blissful coo that never failed to make her smile.

  “Okay, gang,” Nexbit said after a rather awkward silence, during which Klara refused to look Moe in the eyes for fear of losing any semblance of control. “Let’s get moving. I can hear my breakfast calling me.”

  Moe had heard sadder stories than babies being taken from their parents before their language development was complete, but not lately. To be honest, he’d never liked Racks very much. But Klara was right about these three. They were cute to the point of cuddliness. No wonder she cared so much about them.

  But, of course, they were hungry, too.

  “I’m all for that.” He squeezed Klara’s hand. Bless her, she’d done her best for her gang, and they obviously loved her for it. Any children of hers would know the same devotion.

  And she’s already used to managing what are essentially triplets.

  Except for the pregnancy and giving birth part.

  Moe had never deluded himself that such things were fun for any woman, even though his own mother had borne three litters and would have cheerfully had more if nature hadn’t taken a hand in ending her childbearing years. She’d already exceeded the usual number of Zetithian litters as it was.

  He smiled to himself. For all practical purposes, Klara had already had her first litter. With the help of the three Racks, caring for the next one would be a piece of cake. She might think of her gang as a bunch of orphans, but they were a family—she had two brothers and three kids. Anyone mating with Klara would have to be willing to accept a package deal.

  A brief reflection on this possibility didn’t deter Moe in the slightest. Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, he stepped out of the shadows and into the street. He peeked over his shoulder to be sure the others followed. They all looked terrified, but gamely marched on.

  At first, nothing happened. Then slowly, people began to take notice. Perhaps it was only the novelty of seeing two Zetithians out for a stroll, but before long, a crowd began to gather. People began calling out to one another, drawing them from buildings only slightly less ramshackle than those in the Barrens. A few entrepreneurial types appeared to be taking bets, although the details of those bets were unclear.

  Nexbit and Temfilk weren’t taking any chances. Temfilk actually had his pistol in his hand, while Nexbit merely rested his hand on the grip. Moe had never credited his mother with the way he walked before, but with Klara by his side and a pistol strapped to his thigh, mimicking Jack’s swagger came naturally. Klara was also armed, and from the way the tips of her fingers brushed her own weapon, she was itching to draw it. However, if she felt any fear, she hid it well; the hand she’d placed on his arm wasn’t trembling, and she held her head high.

  He had no doubts that the gawkers were focused more on her than anyone else, because she was nothing less than magnificent. With her hood thrown back, the early morning sunlight glinted on her shining black curls, accentuating the striking orange streak at her temple. Her gait was firm yet fluid, her posture flawless. She was a goddess worthy of worship, a fierce warrior queen, and the most fascinating woman he’d ever encountered.

  I’ve really got it bad.

  If she didn’t want to be his mate, Moe wasn’t sure he would ever recover. Even without a trace of desire, her scent was the most delightful fragrance he’d ever inhaled. He longed to taste every delectable part of her and make love with her that night and every night for the rest of his life. But in order to do that, he had to protect her from Nedwuts, Pelarus, and any other being that threatened her safety.

  A tall order before breakfast, perhaps, but not insurmountable.

  An elderly Haedusian female called to them from her doorstep as they approached, the fierce wind whipping at her ragged clothing. “Klara Tavock!” she cried. “I must speak with you!”

  Klara turned her bemused gaze toward the woman as she shuffled along the dusty path from her door, carrying, of all things, a sheet of paper that turned out to be one of Klara’s wanted posters.

  The old woman looked up at Klara with beseeching eyes. “I had begun to fear this day would never come. Please, will you sign this for me? I want proof of our meeting.”

  Klara gaped at the poster. “I’ve never seen such a thing. Where did you get it?”

  “From the market square,” the woman replied. “We ladies take them down as soon as those filthy Nedwuts put them up.” With a cackle of laughter, she added, “I have quite a collection. Over fifty at the last count.”

  “And you want me to write my name on it?” Klara couldn’t have crammed more disbelief into her question if she’d tried.

  “Oh, yes, please.” She offered Klara a sharpened stick and a tiny bowl of what appeared to be homemade ink. “And I would be ever so grateful if you were to write To Velkma above your signature.”

  In a desperate attempt to stifle his own laughter and to keep from saying I told you so, Moe pressed his lips together so tightly a fang pierced the inside of his upper lip.

  Temfilk was less discreet. Grabbing Moe’s hand, he pumped it up and down, crowing, “Leon be praised! You were right!”

  Velkma eyed him curiously. “Who is Leon?”

  “The Norludian god,” Temfilk replied, with the air of one explaining what should’ve been obvious to anyone.

  “Odd name for a god,” Velkma observed with a shake of her head. “But then, I’ve often heard that Norludians are very strange beings.”

  To Moe, this was a prime example of the pot calling the kettle black, but he refrained from comment.

  Astonishingly, Temfilk also let it pass, although that may have been more due to the horde of female Haedusians approaching them than any discretion on his part. What was even more astonishing was the number of posters snapping in the wind. Apparently, Velkma was only the first of many would-be autograph hounds.

&
nbsp; “Your mother was very brave to have refused Pelarus,” Velkma said. “And she was much admired for her courage. We would have helped you before this, but until these posters began going up, we feared you had died. You have been far too good at hiding. But now”—she gave Klara’s cloak a reverent stroke with a gnarled hand—“you are here, and we will do our very best to help you.”

  Nexbit cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose that help would include breakfast, would it?”

  “If it costs anything, he’s got money in the bank,” Temfilk said, aiming a thumb at Moe. “At least, he says he does.”

  “No payment is necessary.” Velkma smiled, revealing more sharp white teeth than Moe had ever imagined a Haedusian would possess, especially one that looked as ancient as this lady. “It would be an honor to share my breakfast with each of you, meager though it is.”

  “Meager beats none,” Temfilk declared.

  Klara put up a hand in protest. “We aren’t exactly starving. We were only trying to find a bank so Moe could withdraw enough cash for us to have breakfast at a restaurant.” She glanced at Moe. “Withdraw is the right word, isn’t it?”

  Moe nodded. “Although I think we need to hear more of what Velkma has to say before we move on. Something tells me she has some very valuable information.”

  Klara rolled her eyes. “Thanks for not rubbing it in.” She turned toward Velkma, whose puzzled expression begged for an explanation. “He told us we should’ve been talking to the townspeople before this. Apparently, he was right.”

  “Indeed,” Velkma said with a grave nod. “We could have saved you a great deal of worry and hardship.”

  “Possibly,” Klara conceded. “But dealing with us might’ve put innocent people in danger of reprisals from Pelarus. We didn’t want that.”

  If anything, this made Velkma gaze at her with even more admiration than before. “You truly are a remarkable woman. You have become a symbol of hope to those who live under Pelarus’ oppressive rule. We should’ve sought you out before this.”