Page 39 of Tempting Jupiter (Arena Dogs #2)
Chapter Twenty-Five
The shackles that weighed down Jupiter’s wrists and ankles slowed his steps and tugged at his joints.
He’d never worn anything so heavy, but it was the feather-light band circling his throat that worried him.
Head held high, he moved steadily toward the slaver, walking along a silver path on the floor.
The man sat in an ornate chair on top of a raised stage at the opposite end of the room.
Every man present had to look up to meet the slaver’s gaze.
The women at his feet stared at the floor, heads bowed.
“That’s far enough.” The guard at the end of the silver path brought Jupiter to a stop with a cudgel poked in his ribs.
The guard beside him struck the backs of his legs. “Down, dog.”
Jupiter made no move to obey. Another blow buckled his legs but he remained standing.
The slaver grinned, showing perfectly white, even teeth. “Now, Thompson. I know I told you this one is special. We must treat him gently.” There was little censure in his tone.
“It was just a nudge, Morgan. Not a scratch on him.” Thompson smirked. “We won’t screw up your chances with that hot little snatch.”
Jupiter hid the anger Thompson’s words churned up in his gut.
Instead of lashing out he noted that the slaver’s men didn’t fear him, if the relaxed way they spoke to the bastard was any measure.
His cruelty must be reserved for the poor souls he bought and sold.
The masters of the arena would never tolerate being spoken to in such a way.
The guard between Jupiter and Morgan snorted. “Give him a shock and he’ll kneel just like any other slave.”
Whatever was coming, Jupiter didn’t want to be helpless for it—unable to move in his own defense. That would be the result, if the guard activated the slender shock collar at his throat. Jupiter knelt on the cool silver path. The shackles clicked against the surface as they made contact.
Morgan’s neatly trimmed eyebrows lifted. He descended the steps from his throne, halting directly in front of Jupiter. “I see Thompson explained the collar.”
“Yes,” he growled. The guard on the transport ship had demonstrated its power.
The jolt it sent through him at the touch of a button had disabled him completely.
He’d been shocked many times before, but the shock whips used in the arena didn’t compare to the jolt from the band.
He hadn’t been able to move for nearly a half hour.
“And he told you about the perimeter transmitters?”
Jupiter resisted the urge to growl again. “Yes.” Even if he overpowered his guards before they could engage the band, perimeter triggers would disable him the moment he attempted to leave the slaver’s ship.
“Good.” Morgan circled around Jupiter like an arena opponent, searching out weaknesses. “I don’t want an accident. The collar isn’t meant to cause lasting injury, but it has crippled one or two of our stock. Physiology is so variable. You can never be sure.”
Jupiter listened to the sound of the man’s boots as they hit the floor. The clank of heel to metal changed to a more muffled thud when he stepped off the path. Thud, thud. Then back when he stepped behind Jupiter. Clack, clack, thud.
“I’ve heard your physiology is quite unique.” Thud, thud, clack . “How long was he down when you did the test, Thompson?” Morgan stopped directly in front of Jupiter.
“Half the normal,” answered the guard.
“Half? That’s impressive.” Morgan stepped backward and sat on the top step to his stage.
It put them on a more equal level, eye to eye.
Jupiter tried to lift his hands from the metal floor, but the shackles at his wrists had grown impossibly heavier. He pulled until he got them an inch above the floor then dropped them. Clank . It had to be magnetized, but did magnets extend beneath the rest of the floor?
“Don’t feel bad Jupiter. That’s your name, right? Not Seneca.” Morgan shook his head. “You see, Owens has told me all about you. Your strength’s your weaknesses. He is eager to have both you and Seneca back.”
Jupiter kept his expression blank. “What of your promises to the female?”
“Oh, I intend to keep them. She’ll have a chance to bid against Owens. But we both know she’s low on funds. The rumors say she tried to hock her ship before resorting to selling you to me.”
That gave Jupiter a good deal more satisfaction than he wanted. At least betraying him hadn’t been her first choice. “Why would she make you promise, if she doesn’t plan to pay?”
“That’s a very good question.” Morgan slapped his thigh and opened his eyes wide as if Jupiter had sad something to surprise him.
“Feeona isn’t a fool. She has to know Owens can outbid her.
No matter how precious the cargo she picked up on that backwater colony.
Owens can afford to buy that whole planet.
” He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles.
“Either she’s playing some sort of a con, she is Roland’s protégé after all, or she’s setting up a double-cross.
Maybe she plans to use her body to persuade me in her favor.
” The man threw back his head and laughed.
Red stained Jupiter’s vision. He strained to slide his hands and the shackles a few centimeters to the side. He stretched and strained different parts of his body, hoping to disguise the movement as idle resistance to the restraints.
Morgan’s laughter fell away, leaving only a trace of excitement lighting his eyes. “I wager it’s betrayal. But who does she plan to betray. You? Me? Owens? Or all of us? I just love her unpredictability. She and I will make great partners.” He sneered at Jupiter’s seemingly idle movements.
A centimeter more.
Morgan sat straighter. “Are you bothered by that thought? Does it make you agitated?” Morgan huffed as he got to his feet and started circling again.
“You still care about her.” His voice rose and fell with disbelief.
“My God. She already sold you to me,” he tapped his chest as he paced.
“Morgan St. Germaine, the most ruthless, most renowned flesh trader in the sector. How ignorant can you be?”
Sparks of anger flicked along Jupiter’s skin.
He strained more obviously. Morgan expected his restlessness now.
Jupiter knew his efforts would gain him little.
He couldn’t escape. Not yet. He should play the ignorant slave Morgan expected.
Let the man drop his guard, but the shackles chafed at his dominant nature.
Such primitive restraints were only used with the monsters of the arena, not the gladiators. He wasn’t the monster here.
Morgan took hold of Jupiter’s jaw and jerked his face toward him.
“Did you think she was some sort of noble rescuer? She tries to play it like she’s above live trade.
Like hiding in the shadows is more honorable than being known throughout the sector.
But she’s just like Roland, keeping her more unsavory trade hidden. ”
Jupiter jerked his jaw free. “Sounds to me like you’re the one infatuated with the woman.”
“I always suspected there was more to her and now I know.” He poked a thumb into his chest. “I did a bit of digging. Do you have any idea what she was doing on Petro-5?”
Jupiter strained. The shackles moved. Only a little farther.
“She was smuggling children out of one of those factories and it’s not the first time. She’s been slaving on the side all along.” Morgan made a humph sound. “Children. Any idea what happens to child slaves?”
Jupiter remembered. He remembered the young Dogs who died in the dirt on the training field.
He remembered the pups led away to be whored out in the brothels.
Could Feeona truly be selling children? That couldn’t be possible.
The same children she cried over in that awful pit.
Children like she’d once been. Impossible.
This man didn’t know anything about Feeona. His Feeona.
One last jerk and his hands slipped over the edge of the metal path. The terrible weight fell away leaving only the inconsequential heaviness of the metal at his wrists. Only the metal path was magnetized.
Morgan’s eyes slid down to the floor. His eyes widened in recognition.
His muscles tensed and his chest filled with the air that would form a shout.
Jupiter swung the shackles over his head and twisted his body.
The weight increased, but with some distance between the shackles and the path it was manageable.
Momentum carried him toward the guard reaching for the remote tucked into his belt.
Jupiter punched toward him, landing a blow to his torso.
The remote slipped from Thompson’s scrambling hands.
Adrenalin kicked in and Jupiter jerked to his feet, twisting back to Morgan.
Jupiter lunged for the bastard, taking them both to the ground.
They hit the floor together with a dull thud.
They were no longer on the path. Jupiter could move freely and he wasted no time wrapping his shackled arms around the man’s neck.
He pulled back until the links stretched across Morgan’s throat.
He pulled enough to make sure Morgan felt the threat but killing him would accomplish nothing.
Keeping Morgan between him and the guards, Jupiter growled out a single word. “Stop.”
The guard who’d been scrambling for the remote froze. The guards who’d been running toward them followed his lead.
“You might kill me,” Jupiter spat. “But not before I kill your master.”
Morgan stayed silent, hands locked tight around the chain at his neck.
“Kick the remote over,” Jupiter demanded.
The guard closest to the device did as he asked.
“Now that I have your attention, I want you to listen carefully.” Jupiter stood, dragging Morgan with him, and spoke directly against the man’s ear.
“I allowed your men to take me without harming them. I made no attempt at escape on your transport. If I wanted you dead, I’d have killed you already.
” He was safe at least, until that damned auction.
“But you will remove these shackles and cease your useless chatter.” He lifted the chain from Morgan’s throat and lifted his arms free.
He shoved Morgan toward the guard and extended his arms, presenting the shackles for removal.
“Then you will lead me to my cell and leave me in peace.”
The guards all stood motionless, mouths hanging open like buzz-fly traps. Morgan rubbed at his neck as if he could rub away the shame of being bested by a slave.
Jupiter shook the shackles. “Now!”
Morgan scowled, but he seemed to know there was no point in pretending to be able to control him. “Do it, Thompson.”