Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Oh, my head. What the fuck?

Margot swam between consciousness and dream, her thoughts muddled as if her mind was swaddled in cotton candy. It was not a pleasant sensation.

She was gradually becoming aware of her surroundings, slowly, but surely. Something banged her arm. She felt her body bump and jostle. To her relief, when she tried to flex her fingers she found her limbs finally heeding her commands.

Okay, eyes. Open up.

That one took a few additional tries, but she managed to shake off the cobwebs and get a look at her surroundings.

Fuck.

She was aboard a familiar-looking ship. One of Gromm's small scout craft like the one she'd inadvertently destroyed. The grizzled men around her did not look amused. In fact, compared to her previous visit with them, they were downright hostile in their stares and sneers.

How did I wind up back with these ? —

The memory came rushing back to her. The combat. The ships crashing down through the trees. And then Rylinn. Rylinn and her aching neck from where he'd hit her with some sort of stun device.

That son of a bitch. Where is he? She craned her head, looking for the man, wanting very much to give her a piece of her mind. Sadly, he was nowhere to be seen. Either he was riding up front in the cockpit, or he'd jumped aboard the other ship. Whatever the case, she would have to wait to unload her ire upon him.

Margot tried to move but found her hands were tightly bound together, and adding insult to injury, they were also secured to a cord wrapped around her waist. Her upper body was pretty well immobilized, she realized. At least her legs were free, but in flight as they were, she wouldn't be running anywhere.

"I see the bitch is up," one of the men snarled, his eyes full of hate as they burned into her with an angry stare. "Ain't gonna be no grabbing anyone's weapons this time, girlie."

"Oh, darn. And it was so much fun last time," she shot back, resorting to sarcasm on instinct alone even though her logical mind knew it wasn't a wise choice.

"A smart mouth, eh?" he growled, slapping her across the face hard. "You cost us a ship! And some of our friends."

"And you're selling people, you fucking slave trader," she spat back, blood trickling from her mouth.

Little did they know, the tiny split in her lip would probably be healed by the time they landed.

The men looked at each other and laughed. It wasn't a happy sound.

"And?" another shot back. "We're not the first to do it. And we sure as hell won't be the last. There's good money to be made."

"It's wrong."

"Wrong? It's a fucking lucrative living is what it is. And I'll bet we'll get a good price for the likes of you. A really good price. What do you think about that? Any more clever remarks?"

"Shut up, Algur. You know Gromm wants her for himself," his comrade grumbled. "Much as I'd just as soon give her to the men, this one cost him a lot. Cost him a whole ship, not to mention a few of our friends. And he wants her intact."

The men grumbled, but no one wanted to cross their leader. Sure, they were warriors, fighters, mercenaries, and slave traders. But Gromm was a whole other matter altogether, and they knew better than to even entertain the faintest hint of double-crossing him. If anyone was so foolish, it would be the last thing they ever did.

Margot rode in silence the rest of the flight. The ship shook and rattled a bit and from what she discerned with her layman's eyes, it seemed to have sustained minor damage in the fight and was flying quite slowly from what she could tell. She just hoped it wouldn't drop out of the sky without warning.

As it worked out, the craft might have shuddered and bucked a few times, but it eventually made it back to the landing area beside the much larger base ship, settling down in a cloud of dust.

"C'mon," the nearest guard grunted, hauling Margot to her feet and shoving her out the open hatch.

It was nearly dusk, she realized. She hadn't been unconscious nearly as long as she'd initially thought.

"I said move it!"

Margot stumbled at the rough hands on her back but didn't fall. At least she was spared that indignity. She was, however, paraded through the camp, the woman who caused the death of their friends and, more importantly, cost them one of their scouting ships. From what the men had said during their flight, that loss had forced everyone to work longer shifts to make up for its loss, and they all blamed her for it.

Rightly so, of course. But that didn't mean she was at all happy about the angry stares confronting her as she was ushered ahead.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they redirected her outside the area she'd come to know, walking her past the outdoor holding cells she'd not been allowed to come near previously.

Are they going to lock me in there? she wondered, counting the many captured men and women waiting to be returned for their bounties, their captor leaving much richer, while they faced almost certain death.

A familiar face caught her eye. "Floxxia!" she called out when she saw the old woman up against the bars.

The Skrizzit's expression was one of mild shock suddenly replaced with what looked to be an expression of genuine surprise when Margot assumed she caught sight of the changes to the runes she'd only recently applied to the human. Sadly, the guard wasn't having any of that.

"Shut up. No talking to the prisoners, bitch. Keep your mouth shut and your eyes forward."

"But you still haven't told me where?—"

"You're going to see Gromm, obviously. And he's going to make you regret what you did."

"Look, I think that?—"

He smacked her upside her head. It was more of a shock than actually painful, for which she was quite grateful. Gromm wanted her unharmed—for now, at least—and that was her saving grace.

"I said no talking. You'll see Gromm and that's gonna be that, so shut up."

A worried look spread across Margot's face in spite of her best efforts to remain stoic. The man laughed with malice.

"What did you think? That you'd be welcomed back with open arms and given cushy lodging and special treatment after what you did? Not likely. Now keep moving. You know where you're going."

She did, actually. And once they shifted course back into the central parts of the tents comprising the camp she'd been allowed to walk in her prior stay, she knew the way quite well indeed. They were going to the ship. She was being taken to see Gromm.

They approached the large vessel, a familiar path she'd walked many times while staying inside as a guest. But now she was something else. And with that came the dubious honor of being taken into the heart of the ship to a very large, very secure room close to the command center. She was going to see Gromm in his personal chambers.

"Inside," the guard growled, shoving her through the open door. An open door that abruptly became a closed one behind her with a frightening thud.

Gromm was sitting on a chair large enough to support his ridiculous mass. He was shirtless, not even wearing his boots. Just another man relaxing in his cave, only in this instance his cave was a spaceship, and the man was a brutal slave trading mercenary.

Shirtless as he was, she could see just how ridiculous his musculature was, the rippling cords of them making him appear like some high school kid's attempt at drawing a superhero. Under any other circumstances she might have been tempted to quip about compensating for some shortcoming. But this was very much not the time nor place for taunts. She was mad, yes, but not stupid.

He rose, towering over her, his myriad rune tattoos shifting in his skin. Just as Floxxia had said, he was absolutely covered in them, looking almost like some sort of Skrizzit's scratch pad.

The colors and styles of the markings were varied, likely dependent on what pigment he had on hand and who the nearest available Skrizzit was. But one thing remained constant. All of them were interlinked by fine lines. Lines she now knew first-hand allowed them to share power throughout his body. And given the sheer quantity of them, he had to be quite powerful indeed. Far more than she'd originally assumed.

He walked around her, not saying a word, staring down at the tiny human as he paced just a step away. She smelled his sour sweat. He was the opposite of Braxxos in that regard. His diet, his lifestyle, everything about him felt artificial and gross. He stopped pacing.

"You cost me a ship," he said with a restrained calm in his voice that was somehow even more scary than if he'd been yelling.

"It was an accident, but?—"

" And you cost me two of my men."

She looked up at him looming over her, a flare of anger rising up in her belly. If she was going to die, at least she wouldn't grovel.

"You know what? Fuck you. You were going to capture the other survivors. You were going to sell them as slaves. That's fucking abhorrent. You are abhorrent."

Surprisingly, rather than lash out, he just chuckled, a low, evil sound rumbling out of his barrel chest. "Oh, so you're feisty now?" he said, picking up a fruit she knew was this world's equivalent of a coconut, more or less. He squeezed, crushing it easily in his bare hand.

Oh, fuck, he's even stronger than I thought .

Gromm reached out and patted her cheek with his now-wet hand. "Feisty is good. I like a woman with fire in her belly."

He ran his hands over her body, not sexually, but like a butcher sizing up his next lamb for slaughter. She shuddered despite her best efforts to remain strong. To remain defiant. But the frightening, blue-skinned man was triggering something primal in her. A fear that had evolved over millennia and was how creatures either survived or went extinct. The man was a predator, she felt it in her bones.

Her Infala also felt it, reacting hard, twinging and pulling on her chest. Fortunately, he didn't notice the faint glow that had flared up under her top. If he had, Lord knows what he might have done next.

Gromm's door rang out loud with the pounding of a fist.

"What is it?" he shouted, keying the opening controls.

Rylinn was there. He glanced at Margot, noting her frightened look, then back at Gromm. "Is this a bad time?"

"Not at all. Come in. I was just talking with my new plaything."

Rylinn did as he was asked, closing the door behind him and crossing to a chair, taking a seat and reclining as if he didn't have a worry in the world. He even took a bottle of what looked like some sort of alcohol and poured himself a drink.

"Help yourself, why don't you," Gromm said with an annoyed scowl.

Rylinn didn't seem concerned at all. He was amused, even. "Oh, I will."

Margot caught his eye as he sipped his drink searching desperately for any glimpse, any hint of his former persona. The man she'd gotten to know and who had been so kind to her before.

None was to be found.

Rylinn shifted his attention back to his employer. "So, you have her. My payment, please."

"Why the rush, Rylinn?" Gromm asked, digging in his desk.

"Oh, I'm not in a rush. And I'm not worried about catching the rest of our targets, but you sent me after this one in particular, and seeing as she's already slipped your grip once, I figure if I may wind up being paid for the same job multiple times, I'd just as soon be paid up front for each one."

Gromm laughed and tossed what Margot assumed had to be some form of digital currency chit to the tracker. Rylinn snatched it out of the air with ease, catching and pocketing it in one fluid motion. "Thank you. I look forward to our repeated business. She's more wily than you give her credit for."

Gromm dragged a metal hoop out of his drawer with a chuckle. "I don't plan on paying you again for this one."

"A shock collar? How quaint. I thought you didn't like using them."

"I don't. But I do keep a few on hand, just in case." Gromm turned his attention to his human captive. "Come here."

She was in no position to argue. Whatever momentary flare of righteous indignation may have inspired her to talk back, it had fled. She did as she was told, timidly stepping toward him. Gromm's enormous hands fastened the band around her neck with an audible click . It wasn't very big, cool on her skin and not heavy at all.

Rylinn saw her mentally processing. "It's a shock collar."

"I heard. And fuck you."

"You wish," he said, rising to his feet and patting his pocket where the chit now resided. "And thank you for a very lucrative payday."

With that he turned and walked out, leaving her very hurt, confused, and alone.

Gromm grabbed her arm in his meaty mitt and hauled her to the door. "Now get out. I'll play with you later. For now, you've got the walk of the camp. Stay out of my men's way and don't make a fuss."

"I-I can just walk out?"

He laughed, a cold cruel sound. "Oh, you can walk out of here all right. But know this. If you step outside the perimeter markers, I can promise you you'll wish you hadn't. The collar might not kill you, but it'll be a jolt you'll never forget."