Home > Enslave Me Sweetly (Alien Huntress #2)(51)

Enslave Me Sweetly (Alien Huntress #2)(51)
Author: Gena Showalter

I heard the click of metal as Expensive Cologne reached the ground. He liberated me, hefting me into his arms. Immediately he began running, causing my neck, arms, and legs to bounce up and down. They were being paid to keep me unharmed, but at this rate they were going to break me in half. Finally, the three of us reached the getaway vehicle. About that time, a shout sounded in the distance. Lights turned on and illuminated the area.

“See what you did?” Cologne growled.

“Fucking hell,” Smashed Balls bellowed. “Drive, just drive.”

I was chucked unceremoniously into the back seat and left in a heap as the two men jammed themselves beside me. The sound of squealing tires erupted.

I almost sighed. My abduction was a success. For all of us.

Chapter 20

The car ride proved to be long and tedious. The men, now three in number because of the driver, talked and laughed about my fate.

“He’s going to do her hard,” one of them said.

They were talking about Lucius, who was to be my new master. My reaction? Mental eye-roll and gag. The fact that Lucius had already “done” me pretty damn hard didn’t factor into the picture.

“Lucky bastard,” the driver muttered.

Rough, scratchy fingers began stroking my jawline, and I almost jerked away from the unwanted touch but managed to restrain myself. Those fingers shifted, tugging at my hair. Several strands popped free, and I watched through cracked lids as the man stealthily slipped them inside his pocket. His movements brought a breeze of clashing scents: excitement, fear, and…roses? How odd. Why did he smell like roses?

“I’d like to take her for a ride.” The driver laughed crudely. “Yeeehaaaw, baby. Yeehaw.”

“Who cares about riding her? She’s solid gold.” Awe dripped from Ball’s words. “We could sell her ourselves and split the money. We’d make a shitload more than what we’re being paid now.”

“Yeah, and we’d also turn up dead in a matter of days.” Cologne. “That kind of puts a damper on spending.”

Driver: “Exactly. Don’t even joke about selling her. Wayne would kill us with his Mec voodoo.”

Balls snorted. “I’m not afraid of that other-worlder bastard.” The undertone of apprehension in his voice belied his brave claim.

Honest to God, I’d be doing the universe a favor if I slit each one of their throats. And I just might do it once I offed EenLi. How long did they expect me to sleep? How long did I have to listen to this crap without reaction? I kept my lashes cracked slightly open, trying to catch glimpses of the landscape outside. First I saw only night sky, but trees soon came into view. Their branches were bare.

Finally the car eased to a stop. Cologne gently lifted me out and carted me into a small, dark building. A residence? A business? I couldn’t tell. There were no surrounding houses, no signs. No telltale sounds. Moonlight danced upon the roof, spilling over and dripping onto the dry, brittle grass.

“Get her inside and put her with the others,” the driver said.

“I know what to do.”

With the others?That meant they hadn’t been sold yet. They could be saved. Excitement unfurled inside me.

My captor pushed the front door open with a booted kick, not bothering with an ID box. Great security. Inside, I heard the creak of old wood, then the grate of rusty iron. My arms and legs flopped up and down as Cologne descended a flight of stairs. The air became cold and dank, musky. In the distance, I heard the rattle of chains and female moans.

My excitement fizzled when I realized I, too, would be placed in chains. I, too, would be made a slave. How could I willingly, no matter the reason, allow this to happen? I asked myself again. If something went wrong…If Lucius…

No. No! I would not panic. This was the plan. I’d willingly—wholeheartedly—agreed to this, knowing what would happen. Lucius wouldn’t fail.I wouldn’t fail. I had my knives, and I knew how to defend myself. I was going to be okay.

This was the only way to find EenLi. This was the only way to find what magnetic device he used for interworld travel. This was the only way to save all the others who had been taken as slaves. I would not back out now.

“How long do you think she’ll be here?” Balls asked from behind Cologne.

“Not sure.”

“Do you think we could—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even hear what I—”

“No.”

Balls stalked in front of Cologne. Scowling, he inserted a key inside a lock then pushed open metal doors. The hinges screeched in protest.

“Out of my way, bitch.” Balls kicked a woman who huddled on the floor.

More chains rattled together. Feet shuffled; women whimpered. My determination to see this through intensified. I’d failed to save the two humans EenLi and his men had raped inside that warehouse, but Iwould save these women.

“Why can’t you leave them alone?” Cologne growled. “You’re going to bruise them.”

“We’re not to harm the Raka. These bitches don’t matter.”

“They’re to be sold, too. They matter. Maybe I need to talk to Wayne about your attitude.”

Balls shuddered. “You do that, and I’ll kill you.”

I was laid on a cold floor. My wrists were taken in a warm, callused clasp before being clamped in cold shackles. The heavy metal bit into my skin. So much for keeping me unharmed. My wrists would be raw within the hour.

“Let’s go,” Cologne said. “We’ve got to call Wayne and let him know she’s here.”

Balls hesitated. I think he was considering squeezing my br**sts or between my legs, but he thought better of it. The two men left, their bickering voices fading into the distance. I didn’t reveal my wakefulness, however. I remained exactly where I was, still and quiet, listening, waiting. I felt curious stares boring into me. How would the women react to me? What would they say? Minutes later, my patience was rewarded.

“I hate that man,” a woman spat.

“We all do,” several chimed in dispiritedly.

Footsteps slapped against the concrete floor; chains dragged and rattled. The scent of roses drifted to my nostrils just before a warm leg pressed against mine, offering me body heat. Roses. Like Balls. I knew what that meant.

“Poor thing,” said the woman who justifiably hated Smashed Balls.

“We’re all poor things,” another, more embittered female voice retorted.

“Have you ever seen so much gold?”

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