Page 3

CHAPTER 3

R ona wasn’t sure which was worse—the mercenary’s demand, or the crowd’s reaction to it.

Sure, there were some gasps and murmurs of surprise, but they were not nearly as loud as the sounds of protest that had accompanied the fee the Merc had quoted earlier.

It was obvious where everyone’s priorities lay.

It was also fairly obvious why the Mercs wanted a woman as “collateral.”

Rona grimaced with disgust. She knew these men were no knights in shining armor.

Chivalry did not exist here on the Outworlds.

Still, she couldn’t believe they would actually stoop so low.

Was this a common practice among the members of the Mercenaries Guild?

Rona had never heard of it before, but maybe others had?

Brundage, for example.

The little man seemed more than eager to meet the Mercs’ wicked demands.

At the moment, he was patting the air with his hands, exhorting the crowd to be quiet.

“Please!” he said. “Please! We must think of the good of the whole village!”

There was only one way in and out of the Common Hall—the same wide door through which the Mercs had entered a few minutes ago.

A few of the women tried to make a run for it, but the crowd was too tightly packed, and the men around them seized their arms, arresting their flight.

The bastards were actually going along with it!

Unbelievable.

Actually, no.

It wasn’t all that hard to believe, was it?

When the chips were down, people were more than happy to sell out their fellow man—and even happier to sell out their fellow woman.

“That’s better,” Brundage said from the platform.

“Now, let’s give these fine gentlemen what they ask. If all the women would kindly come up to the stage so the Guildsmen can make their selection.”

Fuck.

That.

Rona backed away from the railing and started to melt into the crowd.

With her close-cropped hair and unfeminine clothing, there was a chance she could pass for a—

“ Woman! ”

The cry exploded across the balcony.

Before Rona had a chance to fully blend into the crowd, arms seized her and shoved her forward.

She looked to see who had called her out.

It was the same guy who’d grabbed her ass earlier.

He was wearing a big shit-eating grin.

“Thought you could slip away, didja? Shoulda been nicer to me, sweetcheeks. Maybe I woulda helped ya out.”

He patted her butt as she shuffled past.

Rona experienced an urge to draw her knife again, but she suppressed it.

No point bringing more attention to herself than necessary.

The best thing she could do now was just keep her head down and try not to stand out.

She descended the stairs to the ground floor and wended her way through the crowd to the platform.

Most of the other women were already gathered there, maybe a hundred in total, all of them packed together in a staggered line.

They looked scared. Even the professionals seemed apprehensive about being handed over the Mercs.

Rona climbed onto the platform and squeezed in among the others.

“Now then,” Brundage said.

“That should be all of them. Do you fine gentlemen see anything that catches your eye?”

Rona scowled.

The little creep sounded like he was actually enjoying himself.

Yet at the same time, she took a strange comfort in the councillor’s words.

She would not be catching anyone’s eye tonight.

Not with her mannish hair and grubby miner’s clothes.

It made her feel a bit guilty thinking that way, because it meant one of the other women would have to go with those beasts instead…

But hey, better them than me, right?

That thought only gave Rona another, sharper twinge of guilt.

The Mercs were pacing in front of the stage now.

Even though their feet were on the bare ground, their eyes were level with those of the women standing on the platform before them.

Rona didn’t dare look at the big men.

She dropped her gaze to the boards and imagined she was somewhere, anywhere else.

Her tiny hovel. The mine.

The hill outside of town where she would sometimes go to look at the stars and the occasional ship streaking across the night sky.

Her heart was drumming hard.

She could see a big shadow moving in her peripheral vision.

It passed in front of the woman standing beside her.

Then it passed in front of Rona herself.

And stopped.

Oh God, oh God, oh God…

The Merc was so close, she could smell his sweat, mixed with the odors of gun oil and machine grease.

Could he smell her too?

Rona wondered. Could he smell her fear?

“What’s your name?”

The voice was so low, so very, very deep, that it seemed to shake the entire hall.

Rona could feel it rumbling deep inside her body, tickling her in places she didn’t want tickled.

He isn’t talking to me.

He can’t be. No way.

A gloved finger touched her chin and nudged her face upward.

Before she had a chance to stop them, her eyes lifted and locked with the Merc’s own.

Behind the slate-rimmed pupils, Rona could see the red-coal glow of the augmetic implants within.

Implants which allowed the man to see God knew what.

Through her clothing.

Through her skin. Into her very soul.

A sudden surge of heat blasted through Rona’s body, an uncomfortable amalgam of terror and lust.

“I asked you a question, woman. What is your name?”

“Go fuck yourself,” she said.

“ That’s my name.”

The gasp that rippled through the Common Hall was the biggest one yet, and it seemed to suck all the air out of the room.

Nobody was more surprised by her response than Rona herself.

Where had that come from?

What the hell had she been thinking?

Nobody talked to the Mercs like that.

Nobody.

She cringed in anticipation of the retaliation she knew must be coming.

Gloved fingers grabbing her by the throat and squeezing hard.

A knife between her ribs.

A bullet in her brain.

But the man named Aeron did no such thing.

The only hint that he’d even heard her at all was the merest suggestion of a smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

For a long moment they just stood there staring at each other, her defiance meeting his amusement like a pair of crossed blades.

Then Brundage came scurrying over.

“My sincerest apologies, good sir! This woman’s name is Rona. She is but a lowly miner. Perhaps one of the other women would be more pleasing to your—”

“A miner, eh?”

The Merc took Rona’s hands and turned them palms up.

He brushed his thumb across her calluses.

That simple, gentle touch sent another wave of heat rushing through her.

Stop it! she thought.

Stop!

She suddenly remembered the slur the man upstairs had used against her.

“Brundage is right,” she said, her voice low.

“You won’t find me pleasing. I don’t like men.”

It was only half a lie.

She didn’t like most men.

Certainly none of the ones in the village.

Aeron smirked again.

“No?” he said. “You will when I’m through with you.”

What he did next was not gentle, and it happened so fast, Rona didn’t have a chance to react.

First, the Merc unzipped the front of her jacket.

Then he grabbed the two sides and pulled them down, exposing her chest and pinning her arms to her sides.

She was wearing a dirty white tank top underneath, but the thin fabric did little to conceal the erect buds of her nipples.

“I thought you didn’t like men,” the Merc chuckled.

“I don’t…”

His right hand let go of her jacket, and it came up to fondle her left breast through her shirt.

Rona tried to pull away, but the platform was too crowded for her to move.

The Merc thumbed her nipple, sending tingles of unwanted pleasure racing through her.

“Stop that,” she hissed.

He didn’t stop. His hand and his eyes remained on her chest, but when he spoke, his words were addressed to Brundage.

“Tell you what… you let us breed this one, and we’ll cut our fee in half.”

“ WHAT? ” Rona shouted.

But neither of the men seemed to hear her.

Brundage was bobbing his head agreeably.

His hands were clasped in a gesture of gratitude.

“Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you! The woman is yours to use however you see fit. I promise, no man here will object.”

“What the fuck?” Rona snarled.

“You don’t own me, Brundage! You can’t just give me away!”

But as she looked around the Common Hall, she could see that what Brundage had said was true.

No one was coming to her rescue.

Even the other women on the platform were backing away, leaving her to the mercy of the Mercs.

“It’s a deal then,” Aeron rumbled.

“Zeth here will draw up the contract.”

One of the hooded Mercs stepped forward and took out a small tablet from his vest. Meanwhile the other one, the one named Murdok, grabbed Rona around the waist, and lifted her off the platform as easily as if she had been a child.

When he set her down on the ground in front of him, her eyes barely came up to his chest.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take a few more women with you?” Brundage asked.

“One for each of you, perhaps?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Aeron answered.

“My comrades and I split everything three ways.”