Page 56

Chapter Fourteen

T yree

We made it to the ship and left atmo so fast it was almost like a dream. I could feel the vessel lurch into hyperdrive almost immediately. At least Grace’s concerts paid for that. Axxios is an excellent pilot, the Emirusian navy won’t be able to find us, nor will the cartel. We’re safe when we’re flying; it’s just when we land for supplies that we have to worry.

The rescued female and the devil were taken to medbay by a contingent of five gladiators. I’m with Grace in her room. She’s still in a daze as I peel her filthy blood-soaked dress off her and help her into the shower. I look down and realize I’m nude—it doesn’t matter. I stash the huge red gemstone necklace in a drawer, I’m not sure why, then run the dress to the garbage jettison bay. I know she’ll never want to see that bloody reminder again.

She’s finishing her shower when I return to her room. I help her into a t-shirt and panties, then jump into the shower. She didn’t want to leave my side, so she’s sitting on the toilet with her head in her hands.

“That was so terrible,” she tells me when I’m toweling dry. “I couldn’t bear to see Mauritious hit you with that whip. I felt every sting of the lash myself.”

I startle. Those sound like the words of a truemate. I’m certain it’s just an Earth expression; I caution myself not to get my hopes up.

When I was under the spray of the water, my pain was deadened. Now that I’m dry, my back is on fire. I glance over my shoulder at the mirror and can’t believe what I see. My skin is shredded. It doesn’t even look humanoid. I do the math; Grace mentioned ten lashes well before the torture was complete. Ten strikes with a whip of ten tails—there are over one hundred slashes on my back, buttocks, and thighs.

“Tyree, you need to go to medbay. Let’s have Dr. Drayke treat your wounds and give you something for the pain.”

“Yes, Amara . I’ll go—after you’re asleep.”

“I’ll be fine. You need to go to medbay now.”

“Let’s watch that vid of the snow bear of planet Zath you found so boring. As soon as you’re asleep I’ll go. I promise.”

“No. I’ll go with you so you don’t have to worry about me.”

I don’t want her anywhere near that devil, so I compromise and tuck her into bed. “I’ll go straight to the doc, Grace. I’ll come back as soon as I’m patched up.”

I put on a loincloth—even that small scrap of fabric pressed against my flesh feels like needles of fire—then wend my way to medbay.

Doc’s in a private exam room with the female. Five armed gladiators are squeezed into another room with the devil. I guess I’ll have to wait my turn for the doc to treat my back. I won’t feel comfortable until that animal is locked in the cellblock deep in the belly of the ship.

Dr. Drayke leaves Tawny’s exam room and steps into the hall with Shadow and me. He is the calmest, most logical male on the ship. I’ve never heard a sharp or unkind word from him. I’ve also never seen this particular expression on his blue face. His lips are pressed together so tightly they’re quivering.

“I’m just about done here. I just...I just needed…” His words sputter to a stop. He glances at the floor, then whispers, “I may need you to physically restrain me. I’m having very vivid fantasies of killing the male in the next room with my scalpel. That is strictly forbidden by my Lord God Anteros. Why is that devil on board this vessel?”

“She wouldn’t leave the dungeon without him. We didn’t have time to inquire about her reasons.”

“I’ve never seen anything this disturbing in my career,” he whispers to us. “Bruises in every stage of healing, from fresh to weeks old, indicating severe and chronic abuse. Particular attention was paid to her...sexual parts.”

He looks at the door to the devil’s room as if he could stare through it. “She tells me that animal did most of it. And she wouldn’t come here without him?”

“If you can get her patched up, let’s do it, doc. We’ll get him in a cell and escort her to a cabin near the females where she can heal and feel safe. I plan on speaking with Zar. I think we’ll need to conduct a tribunal. Death doesn’t seem too small a punishment.”

“Indeed,” the doctor says, lips compressed in a thin line. We accompany him into the room where he finishes applying salve and plas-film to fresh wounds on her back. She’s huddled under a thin blanket covering her chest and legs.

“We’ll call Anya and Zoey to medbay and have them bring clothes and show you to your new cabin. It’s bright and clean and comfortable. You’ll be safe there,” the doc says in an attempt to sound upbeat and cheery.

“I won’t go without Devi.” Her jaw is stiff. She looks adamant.

The doc’s eyes widen in shock. Evidently, he didn’t understand the part about “she wouldn’t leave without him” when we told him the story.

“Surely you know he needs to be locked up,” the doc explains rationally.

“Okay. I’m used to that. Can you put us in the same cell, though?” Her voice is resigned, almost without hope.

“Perhaps you don’t understand. You don’t need to be in a cell. Just him. You said he did this to you, correct?”

“Yes, much of it.”

“This is illegal and immoral and will require punishment, Tawny. He needs to be locked in a cell. You do not.”

She shakes her head and lies on her side on the table. “Please don’t separate us,” is all she says, before pulling the covers over her head.

The doc finishes with her and leaves the room, advising her to get some sleep. “I know your back needs attention, Tyree, and according to the rules of triage, you should be attended to next. But I’d like to give that male a quick exam and get him in a cell, then take care of you. Any objections?”

“I agree. Get him the drac k out of here.”

Shadow and I squeeze into the small exam room crammed with Devolose and five other gladiators. The doc gives him a perfunctory once-over. Even though I have to peek between two comrades, I can see welts and scars all over the male’s red-and-black flesh. All I can think is, “good, he deserves it. That and more.”

“Take off your loincloth,” the doctor directs, unable to keep his loathing out of his tone.

For the first time since I’ve seen this male, I observe something that passes for emotion flit across his impassive face. His hands are slow as he unties the cloth, then pulls it away from his body. Every male in the room flinches.

“Gods!” Steele hisses as his head jerks back involuntarily.

There is an ugly, badly-healed wound where his penis has been severed from his body. There is a small hole I assume he pisses out of. To say the appearance is shocking is an understatement. I feel the slightest moment of compassion for the poor bastard, then conjure up images of the things he did to the girl in the next room. He deserved it.

Dr. Drayke gives the area a cursory examination with his gloved hands. “Having trouble urinating?” he inquires dispassionately.

The devil shakes his head no.

“You may put your clothing back on.”

Shadow and I leave the room and make another attempt to convince Tawny to go to the cabin already prepared for her. She got so upset arguing with us, we finally acquiesced, and the gladiators escorted them both to a cell.

I’m in an exam room with the doc. “Most of these cuts will heal well, Tyree, but there were a few places where the flesh was shredded so badly I needed to apply medskin. It will adhere to your existing flesh and eventually mesh with it.”

He applies an analgesic salve, which puts an immediate end to the fiery pain, then places a layer of plas-film over the top.

“You’ll mend fine, Tyree. You’re a good male. You saved Miss Grace. I know it’s none of my business, but...you care for her a great deal, don’t you?”

“I want her to be my mate,” I tell him seriously, looking him in the eye.

He smiles for the first time today. “You two are good together. I’m so glad for you both.”

“Don’t get too excited, doc. She’s not on board with the plan.”

Grace

I was in a sleep filled with dreams of dark dungeons, pain, and claustrophobia. And blood, rivers of blood. Tyree enters my cabin quietly, but I startle awake, glad to be out of that dreamworld.

“Tyree, how’s your back?”

“It will heal. More important, how are you, Grace? You’ve been through so much.”

I don’t know what to say. I think I’m in shock, and God knows he should be, just look at his back, it’s cut to ribbons.

“Get some sleep, Tyree. Lie with me.”

“I’m surprised you’d want a male anywhere near you after…”

“You used the right word before when you called him a monster. Not all males are like that. You’re not. You saved my life. I don’t know how you did it.”

“I’ve got more psychic power than I thought. I paralyzed all the guards. Evidently, it didn’t work against the Emperor. For him, I used a different magical ability—you, Grace.”

I’m quiet for a moment. What happened in that hallway is kind of a blur. I don’t even want to recall everything, but I remember enough. I understand the word ‘bloodlust’ now.

“Yeah, I don’t know how I feel about that. I killed a person, Tyree. If you’d asked me a few months ago the likelihood of me killing another human being, the answer would have been zero.”

“He wasn’t a human being, Amara . He was an animal. A feral one. It was kill or be killed. You did what had to be done. Without your quick response, we might all be dead.”

“Thankfully, I don’t remember exactly what happened after he pulled me out of my seat and dragged me down the hallway. I do remember I couldn’t stop stabbing him.”

He slides in next to me, smoothes my hair away from my face, then kisses my cheek. “He would have killed you, Grace. You had to kill him first. You did what had to be done. I’m so proud of your strength. To think that a few days ago you were afraid of performing. Now you’re a female to be reckoned with.”

I feel a chuckle rumble deep in his chest. “The males will be afraid of pissing you off; they’ll avoid you in the hallways. After cursing out the Captain of the MarZan ship, and what you did to the Emperor, your name will be spoken in hushed tones with both fear and admiration.” He tousles my hair. “My Amara . Get some sleep. I’m right here.”

I awaken with a start the next morning. I was having nightmarish memories of what happened yesterday. I open my eyes to Tyree’s poor, lacerated back. Dear Lord, he went through so much.

I replay those awful moments yesterday when the captain of the guard was flaying Tyree’s back with that hideous whip. There was so much going on: fear for Tyree, terror for my own life, as well as the Emperor pawing my breasts with that evil look in his eye. But the thought that was uppermost in my mind much of the time?

My concern for Tyree, more even than for myself.

I care deeply for Tyree. Why I came to this epiphany a moment away from death in a dungeon, I don’t know. I must be the densest female in the galaxy.

My stomach feels like it’s eating itself in anxiety as I admit to myself just how deeply I’m connected to him.

Tyree’s shaggy golden mane calls to me, but I restrain my fingers from combing through his hair. All these tender feelings, all the caring and concern I have for him, and the fact that part of me wants to wake him with kisses—they mean nothing.

Because the other half of me still pictures my mom watching her boyfriends hurt me, then turning a blind eye in order to keep them in her life. I never want to be that weak. I never want to give that much of myself away, and if I tell Tyree how much I like him it will give him power over me. I’ll never let that happen.

So I keep my hand at my side. I don’t wake this beautiful man with my kisses. I don’t offer to go get him breakfast because he’s got to be in pain and he just saved my fucking life. I’m having an intense internal argument with myself, taking both sides in a debate about going with my heart or following my better judgment.

The last time he and I talked, Tyree said he’d never bring up the truemate thing again. Even though we slept in the same bed last night, he’d never presume I’ve changed my mind, he knows me well enough for that. I feel terrible for this, but I’m certain we just need a clean break.

I’ve never been so happy to hear a knock at the door in my life.

Thank goodness Callista has perfect timing. I pull the sheet up to Tyree’s waist, tug my t-shirt down, and rush to answer the door.

“Sorry to bother you, but it’s after lunch…” She’s standing just inside the threshold, and by the look on her face, she didn’t expect to see my bed occupied by the hunkiest male on the ship. “I can see you’re busy, I’ll come back later.”

“No, that’s okay,” listen to how casual I sound. You’d think I’d been a consummate liar my entire life. “What’s up?”

“I’ve never been a busybody before, but I just can’t sit by and watch this happen.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The girl you two liberated, Tawny. Dr. Drayke says she was badly beaten and abused by that asshole you brought on board. Thank goodness he’s locked up tight in the cell block where we were imprisoned before the rebellion. But are you aware she won’t leave him? She refused to even look at the cabin we prepared for her. Right now she’s sleeping in one of those horrible cells. With him!” She steps farther into the room and paces in tight little circles near the door.

“It’s clearly Stockholm Syndrome, Grace. I’ve got to help her understand she isn’t bound to that devil! I want to get her out of the cellblock and away from him and his influence. She doesn’t know me from Adam. You rescued her. Perhaps she trusts you. Come with me. Help me talk some sense into her.”

I’m a quiet person. I’ve never tried to persuade anyone to do anything. I’m a horrible choice for this job. However, I’d give anything to leave my room right now, to avoid any difficult discussions with Tyree. He’s still lying in bed, his back toward the door, although he has to be awake by now.

“Well, if you really think I could be of service...I’d be happy to help. Have a seat. I’ll be out of the shower and completely dressed in five minutes.”

I know she didn’t believe my time frame, but I’m dressed, my wet hair pulled into a ponytail in less than seven minutes. Before I leave, I set Tyree’s clothes in a neat pile on the bed. I hope it’s a clear message for him to vacate before I return.

A few minutes later, my jaw tenses as we enter the hallway connected to the cell block. My God, this brings back horrifying memories. I’d contemplated suicide every waking hour for days on end when I was here two months ago. I felt so alone, so isolated, so hopeless. My life is immeasurably better now—partially due to Tyree. He’s a terrific male. I enjoy him so much.

I think of our silly food fight the other day. He even makes watching boring vids fun. And he’s so solicitous about my needs and wants...and desires. Too bad he’s stuck on this truemate thing. I simply can’t give away my self, my autonomy.

My fear ratchets up ten notches after we cross the threshold of the cellblock, and it goes through the roof when the door closes behind me. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Callista looks at me, white showing all the way around her eyes—she feels it, too.

“You sure we want to do this?” I ask. “I hope it goes fast, I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Me, too. But let’s give it our best shot, Grace. The girl is young and scared and obviously confused. We have to try to get her out of his clutches.”

They’re both in the third cell; the one Anya and Zar occupied. This is where their love bloomed. It strikes me that Tawny and the red-and-black devil should be in any cell but this.

It looks like someone allowed them to drag a second mattress in there. Both beds are pulled together on the floor. Tawny and the devil look like they’re spooning under the covers. Bile rises in my throat as I picture being in that position with one of the Urluts, the boar-like aliens who kidnapped me from Earth. I can’t imagine wanting one of them near me, much less touching me. Unlike this bastard, they never laid a hand on me and certainly never tortured me.

“Tawny? Remember me? We didn’t get introduced, but I’m Grace. I helped you escape.”

She rises from the bed, steps over the devil lying next to her and stands a foot inside the bars across from us. “You killed the Emperor. I watched you stab him until your arm was too tired to move.”

I feel Callista’s eyes bore into me. I suppose it is kind of shocking for her to know that quiet, unassuming Grace stabbed that motherfucker so many times she was drenched in his blood.

“Yes. No one should allow themselves to be treated badly. If someone hurts us, we should rise up if we have the means to do so.” I wait, hoping to see awareness and agreement dawn on her beautiful, bruised face—nothing.

“I’m Cally. I was a prisoner in one of these cells a few months ago, Tawny. We rebelled. We defeated our captors. None of them will torment us anymore.”

She looks at us, eyes empty, with zero comprehension.

Cally goes on, pointedly glancing at the male on the floor, then back at Tawny. “I’m not a psychiatrist or anything, but I think you’re suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.”

Tawny shakes her head, her features tight, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t remember all the specifics, but I think patrons at a bank were held hostage by some bad guys and at the end of the ordeal they wanted to protect their captors. They named a syndrome after it to show that sometimes people get their thoughts turned around when they’ve been in grave danger. They think the aggressor is their friend.”

Tawny shrugs, looking clueless.

“You admitted to Dr. Drayke that he,” Cally points at him, almost as if she’s a witness in a courtroom drama, “tortured and abused you, yet you want to stay in this horrid cell with him. We have a lovely cabin in a wing of this ship where all of us women live. We’d love to be friends. We want to help you. We don’t understand why you’re sleeping on the floor with a male who hurt you.”

“I don’t know you. I don’t know either of you. I know Devi. I want to stay with him.” Her shoulders pull back, her chest thrusts out, her jaw is rigid. “I’m not confused. I don’t have Stockholm Syndrome. I’m staying right here.” She points at the floor. “With Devi.”

Cally’s mouth works although no words come out. Her eyes shine brightly with unshed tears. “Tawny. Think about what you’re doing. He’s not safe.”

“I don’t have to explain things to you. I don’t owe you anything.” She takes a deep breath, glancing back at the male who’s under the covers behind her. “I have no idea how long I was in captivity. What year is it?”

Her eyes widen in shock when we tell her. “I was in his clutches for three years.” She shivers in repulsion for a moment, absorbing the enormity of that fact. “There are only two living people who know what happened during those...what, thousand days? Only the two people on this side of these bars know the truth. I’m staying here.” With that, she turns on her heel and steps over the prone figure on the floor. She climbs under the blanket she shares with her abuser and turns her back to us.

“I’ll be back, Tawny,” Cally says, her voice strong and firm. “You’ll see the truth when you give it some thought. You’re just all turned around inside.”

Silence.

We exit the cell block.

“Not exactly the outcome we’d hoped for,” I tell Cally.

“My heart hurts for her. She’s totally brainwashed.” Cally shakes her head sadly.

“It will just take time. We’ll help her see the truth, and when she does, we’ll bring that bastard to justice.”

I grab some lunch from the dining area and bring it back to my cabin. I hope Tyree got my hint and cleared out.

He made the bed and left absolutely no trace of himself in my room. Maybe it’s better that way.

I sit on the little chair in the corner, eating a mystery meat sandwich. Maddie called it Crayton Dergar , but it was barely edible and the fancy name was like putting lipstick on a pig—it didn’t dress up the taste.

It’s quiet in here. Too quiet. I don’t like the silence. I miss Tyree’s jokes and, frankly, I miss his presence.

I can’t help but think about Tawny. How pathetic. Her resemblance to my mom irritates me. I don’t like weak women. She’s giving up her happiness, her comfort, her safety, for what? To please a man Tyree described as an abusive monster?

That’s spineless and pitiful, and I try not to have sympathy for her—but I do. I feel sorry for her neediness, her willingness to sell her soul for approval from that despicable male. I never want to do that.

My thoughts stop. They grind to a halt like when a stick is thrown into the gears of a machine. Although I have crystal clarity about why I don’t want to be Tyree’s truemate, that whole line of thinking doesn’t make sense anymore.

I review my concerns: I don’t want to give up pieces of myself to please anyone. Riiight.

Then I page through the book labeled Tyree in my mind. I look at every chapter, every scene of every minute we’ve spent together, from when he was three-foot-tall little female elf Tyree, to big, strapping gorgeous muscular Tyree. From watching vids during a sleepover, to throwing food in the kitchen, to fighting for our lives on Emirus, to making love on that bed.

The bed stares at me accusingly. I stare back. Then I return to paging through my Tyree book. I’m looking closely, but I can’t find one chapter or page or paragraph where he tried to take me away from me . I can’t find one sentence where he told me what to do or asked something of me that wasn’t in my best interests. Not. One.

The only tense moment between the two of us was about my inability to say I didn’t want to eat the sack of shit. And the tension was because he was encouraging me to speak up for myself—the opposite of telling me what to do.

He risked his life to stay behind and save Tawny. He was more worried about my safety than his own in that dungeon when he was practically being flayed alive. This man would never, ever want me to do anything that wasn’t good for me. How did he describe a truemate? Linked, connected, eternally joined. Would that be so terrible? Really?

My breath huffs out as it dawns on me, not in tiny increments, but in one big avalanche—I love him. I love him and he loves me. He said it. He’s shown it—over and over in fact—repeatedly, and in many ways.

How long would it have taken me if I had dated Barbarian, or Rocky, or Butch or any of the guys my mother went out with to figure out they were assholes? Less than an hour. How long would it take to figure out the male in the cell with Tawny is a devil? A minute—just look at him.

I’m not stupid, or gullible. I’m smart. I’m smart enough to discern a good male from a bad one. And I’m smart enough to know I’m in love with Tyree—and he would never hurt me.

If there’s anything I learned in that fucking dungeon, it’s that life is short. I could spend the next week or month or year debating and wondering about this decision—I would have done that in my old life. But the new Grace is resolute and strong. I have all the information I need to make a decision—in fact, the decision’s already been made!