The Red Woman on Mars

Prologue

Seven years, three months, and eighteen days into Vivian Bowen’s indefinite detention at the Sumter Refugee Camp, she finally found an escape.

In her family’s government-issued tent, Vivian was curled up on her cot lost in a novel when a sharp, acrid smell reached her nostrils. Was the stew bubbling over? Vivian tucked her book under one arm and went to investigate.

Outside, dark smoke snaked up to the sky, originating from a small fire spreading on the tent’s canvas surface. With a steady stream of cursing, Vivian grabbed the basin of suds used for washing dishes and poured it over the fire. A hiss erupted as water doused the flames.

Vivian stared down at the ruined corner of the tent, chest heaving. A ragged hole the size of a dinner plate marred the bottom corner. How much would a proper repair job cost them? More than the meager savings her family had stored in the jar hidden at the bottom of their clothes bin.

Ringing laughter made Vivian whirl around. Max Rinaldi stood several feet away, his meaty hands on his hips and his head thrown back in amusement. Vivian’s whole body went rigid. She took two shaky steps toward him. “Are you insane or just stupid? You could’ve burned down half the camp.”

“Nah, these tents are barely flammable. Took me forever to get yours to light.” He let out another peal of laughter.

“You should see your face!” His eyes traveled slowly down her rail-thin body.

Vivian crossed her arms over her oversized T-shirt, one hand still clutching her book.

“I can’t stop thinking about the way your tight ass felt pressed against my thighs last week.

” He idly pulled a sharp white shank out of one pocket and twirled it between his fingers.

“I hate you.” Vivian touched one hand to her throat involuntarily, feeling the lingering scab from where that shank had cut her.

“There she is,” he murmured. “I know you’ll be a hellcat in the sack.”

“Leave me alone.” Vivian shifted uncomfortably. The normally noisy camp was eerily quiet. Typically, her neighbors would be outside, tending cooking fires, hanging laundry, kicking soccer balls, and trading gossip. But now, not a single person was in sight. No one would be coming to her aid today.

“I’m here to make sure our message from last week stuck. No more stealing from my brothers and me.”

Vivian eyed the marred tent and swallowed her rage.

Even if she found the accusation of stealing ridiculous, the memory of how easily Max had overpowered her the week before was too fresh to argue.

All she and her friends had done was collect extra cans of beans and boxes of pasta to ensure the camp children were fed during shortages.

But hoarding food was a strategy the Rinaldi brothers used to keep control of the camp, and they weren’t willing to give up any power.

“No more,” she agreed.

“You could use protection, Vivian. A girl like you has no sense for the proper order of things. I could make it real comfortable for your parents. And what’s your sister’s name?

” He snapped the fingers on his free hand.

“Delilah. She’s growing up to be quite the vixen.

I bet she’s going to need looking after. ”

“Keep Delilah’s name off your lips,” Vivian retorted before she could stop herself. She was going to get herself killed if she didn’t learn to keep quiet.

“A hellcat,” he repeated. Vivian wanted to slap the smirk off his mouth.

“What’s this book you’re holding so tightly?

” With one quick movement he snatched it from her hand.

A few of the edges of the ancient yellowing pages crumbled to the ground.

He flipped to the front cover. “A Regency romance?” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Didn’t know that’s what you were into. I could rustle up a top hat if that’s what turns you on. ”

Vivian was going to murder him. She was going to take that stupid shank and shove it directly into his throat and then stand over his bleeding body as he took his last gurgling breath.

If only she wasn’t so frail.

Max opened the book to the middle. “ ‘He freed one breast from the tight confines of her corset and brought his mouth to her aching nipple.’ Very nice.”

Vivian’s face was hot, and she felt the sting of unwanted tears threatening to fall. “What do you want with me? Why are you really here?”

“Relax, Vivian. I’m no rapist.”

Just a bully and a thief. An arsonist. And probably a murderer.

“I could give you this.” He traced one meaty finger down the page. A few more yellowing pieces floated down onto the hard-packed dirt. “I heard a rumor that the Martians have built their whole society around a Regency fantasy. I think we could manage a little roleplay in the bedroom.”

Vivian gritted her teeth. “No, thank you.”

“Fine.” He shoved the book back at her, and Vivian staggered as she caught it with one hand. He pulled an imaginary hat off his head and gave her an elaborate bow. “Pleasure to see you, my lady.” Max Rinaldi sauntered away, his hands in his pockets and thumbs through his belt loops.

Vivian let out a slow breath as she watched his retreating back.

At least her parents hadn’t been around to witness the confrontation.

Even defeated as he was, she didn’t think her father could have swallowed Max’s behavior.

And Delilah, always eager to make dangerous men happy, probably would have started flirting.

“You seem to have a problem on your hands.”

At the edge of the next tent stood a woman. Her elegant navy pantsuit and black leather valise conveyed quite clearly that she was not a refugee. A missionary? The rare government representative?

“I have it under control,” Vivian snapped.

She’d handle Max Rinaldi.

Somehow.

The woman came closer. “A man like that isn’t going to let up until he gets what he wants. He may not have any power outside the walls of this camp, but in here, he’ll always find a way to assert his power over you.”

“And?”

The woman flashed a badge. “I’m with the Arcadia Group, representing the interests of the Martian dome on Earth.”

Vivian jerked her head. This was a new one. “Hello.”

“How would you like a ticket out of here, Ms. Bowen?”

“Mars?” Vivian hadn’t been outside the high walls of the Sumter Refugee Camp since she was a teenager. People like her were lucky to get a work permit for a factory in Charlotte, not travel to another planet.

“I’m looking for women just like you. Women who are interested in the adventure of a lifetime.”

“Women,” Vivian repeated skeptically. “Only women?”

“To be precise, healthy cis women who have no kids, partner, or addictions. Ages eighteen to twenty-five. A surprisingly hard set of criteria to fill.”

“To do what?”

“Marry a Martian and have their children.”

Vivian barked an involuntary laugh. “I’m not having children.”

The woman tilted her head, taking in the tent community.

People were starting to emerge from their homes now.

A few cooking fires had been relit, and one girl who couldn’t have been older than fifteen sat on a stool outside her tent with a baby nursing at her breast. Two skinny half-naked toddlers ran screeching in between the tents with no minder in sight.

“Of course you don’t want children here. Who would?” She gave a flick of her fingers, as if dismissing the refugees en masse. “The wealthy Martian oligarchs of the Arcadia Dome are seeking a group of Earther women to travel to Mars to marry them and bear their children.”

“Like an arranged marriage?” She looked down involuntarily at her historical romance novel. Some things were better off staying in fiction.

“Not exactly. You’ll have the choice of a spouse. In fact, you’ll be courted. You know the Martians—any excuse for a ball with them.”

Vivian did not, in fact, know anything at all about the Martians. “Not interested.”

“This is a job, Vivian. You’ll be paid.” And she named a sum so outrageous Vivian opened her mouth in shock. It was more money than she could hope to acquire in a lifetime. Enough to buy a permit to leave the camp for good. But perhaps not enough to buy three permits.

“I have a sister,” Vivian ventured. “She’s turning eighteen in two weeks.”

“Delilah is welcome to join you. I do have a quota to fill.”

Vivian touched her throat. What was preferable?

To get in bed with Max Rinaldi or an unknown Martian?

There would inevitably be a baby either way.

Birth control was illegal in the Carolinas, and Vivian wasn’t fool enough to trust Max to pull out.

If she stayed and acquiesced to the dubious protection Max offered, would she end up a tool of the brutal gang that ran the camp, turning on her own friends and their children?

And Delilah—Vivian couldn’t bear to see the light go out of her sister’s eyes.

They’d both been lucky to stay under the radar of the Rinaldi brothers and their men for all this time.

If Vivian hadn’t been arrogant enough to believe she could get away with changing the camp’s status quo, she might have escaped their notice longer.

But to leave the camp for good, with Delilah by her side. To earn the funds to buy her parents a way out. Hadn’t she been dreaming of a chance like this for seven years?

“Alright,” Vivian said slowly. “I’m in. Take me to Mars.”

After seven years, three months, and eighteen days, Vivian finally found an escape—into a gilded cage.