Prologue #2
She stared at me, her eyes unfocused, pupils dilated. Something was wrong. The way she swayed against the rock, the glassy sheen to her stare—this was more than exhaustion.
"Hey," I said, sharper this time. "Stay with me."
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Just a soft moan, barely audible, and then her fingers slipped.
I moved on instinct, closing the remaining distance and catching her before she hit the ground. She was lighter than I expected, her body slack in my arms. The gossamer fabric slid against my fur as I adjusted my grip, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back.
Her head lolled against my chest, another weak sound escaping her throat.
They'd drugged her. The Kwado were known to keep their guests compliant with substances in the food or water. Whatever they'd dosed her with was hitting her now, adrenaline no longer enough to keep it at bay.
Fuck!
I couldn't leave her here. Even if I wanted to—and something in my chest twisted at the idea—the guards would find her. She'd be dragged back inside and punished. Or worse.
I shifted her weight, settling her more securely against my chest, and moved back through the garden, keeping to the shadows, avoiding the open paths. Her breathing was shallow but steady, her body warm against mine. Too warm, maybe. Fever? Or just the drugs working through her system?
My hiding spot was tucked behind a maintenance shed near the eastern wall. A gap between the structure and an overgrown hedge that the gardeners had apparently forgotten existed. I'd stashed my gear there: weapons, pack, emergency supplies.
I laid her down carefully, propping her against the trunk of a small tree. Her head lolled to the side, a soft whimper escaping her lips. I grabbed my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The gossamer thing she wore wouldn't keep her warm.
"Stay quiet," I murmured, though I doubted she could understand me in her drugged state.
"I'll get you out." I spoke the words in English, not knowing if the Kwado had fitted her with a translator.
My cousin Siemba was mated to a human female who'd insisted that all operatives within Asad Intelligence learn the language.
I was particularly fond of Earth curses.
I worked quickly, checking my ammunition, water supply, and medi-kit. Basic field supplies, nothing sophisticated, but it would have to do. She needed real medical attention. A healer who could identify whatever cocktail of drugs was moving through her system.
My cousin Tarrick was in cloaked orbit above the planet, waiting for my call. His ship had a full medi-bay. Most of the humans we rescued needed it. But I couldn't call him from here. The compound's surveillance would pick up the transmission and triangulate my position within seconds.
I needed distance. At least three kilometers before I'd be outside their monitoring range.
I shouldered my pack, then crouched and scooped the female back into my arms. She made another soft sound, her head settling against my shoulder. Her hair brushed my neck, and I caught her scent—something sweet beneath the garish perfume they'd doused her with.
I moved through the darkness, keeping low, my steps careful and measured. She proved a slight weight in my arms. I'd carried much heavier loads over longer distances. The real challenge was staying quiet, staying invisible.
The perimeter wall loomed ahead, two meters of reinforced composite.
But I wasn't going over the wall. There was a drainage culvert on the eastern side, where runoff from the gardens flowed into the surrounding scrubland.
Narrow, barely wide enough for a body, but it would work for escape just as it had for my entrance.
The culvert was dark and damp, smelling of stagnant water and rotting vegetation. Perfect.
I went through first, dragging my pack behind me, then reached back for the female. I pulled her through as gently as I could manage. She didn't wake, didn't protest. Just let me maneuver her like a doll.
We crawled through the darkness, the culvert's walls pressing close. Ten meters. Fifteen. The air grew fresher, the smell of open space replacing the compound’s artificial gardens and the culvert’s stench.
Then we were out, emerging into the scrubland beyond. The twin moons were rising, casting pale light across the rocky terrain. I could see the compound behind us, the lights bright against the darkness, but we were outside. Free.
For now.
I gathered her back into my arms and started moving, putting distance between us and the compound.
One kilometer. Two. The lights faded behind us, swallowed by the darkness.
Outside the estate, the landscape was more varied, less swampy.
I found a natural shelter—a stand of boulders with a crevice leading to a small cave sheltered by the rock.
I laid her down and checked her pulse. Still steady. Still breathing. Her skin was hot to the touch now, definitely a fever. Whatever was in her system was getting worse.
Her eyes snapped open.
I barely had time to register the movement before she was rising, her arms wrapping around my neck with surprising strength. Then her mouth was on mine, desperate and hungry, her lips parting with a soft sound that went straight through me.
Shock froze me for half a second. Then instinct took over, and I kissed her back.
Goddess, forgive me. I kissed her back. My hand came up to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through that golden hair, silky to the touch.
She tasted like whatever they'd given her—something sweet and chemical—but underneath was just her, warm and alive and pressing against me like I was the only solid thing in the universe.
Her fingers dug into my shoulders, her body arching into mine. The fever made her skin burn where we touched, made her movements frantic and uncoordinated. She made another sound, something between a whimper and a moan, and I felt it in my chest, in my blood.
Wrong. This was wrong. She was drugged, didn't know what she was doing, didn't even know who I was.
I pulled back, breaking the kiss even as every instinct screamed at me to keep going. Her eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide, her lips swollen and parted. She tried to follow me, tried to pull me back down, but I caught her wrists gently.
"Easy," I said, my voice rough. "Easy. You're safe. You're okay."
She blinked at me, confusion flickering across her face. "Fuck me, please."
Then her eyes rolled back, and she went limp in my arms, unconscious again.
I sat there for a moment, heart pounding, trying to get my breathing under control. My lips still tingled and my hands were shaking.
Fuck!
I pulled out my comm unit and powered it on, waiting for it to sync with the satellite network, praying the compound's surveillance didn't reach this far.
The unit beeped denoting the signal was acquired.
I keyed in Tarrick's emergency frequency and waited.
Five seconds. Ten. Then his voice crackled through. "Cristox?"
"I need extraction," I said, keeping my tone low. "I've got a human female, drugged, needs medical attention. How fast can you get here?"
"Drugged?" Tarrick sounded like he'd been asleep. "With what?"
"No clue." I glanced at her. "But it's powerful. She just kissed me and asked me to fuck her."
For several seconds, only static crackled over the line.
"Is she feverish?" Tarrick asked slowly.
"Yes."
"And she goes in and out of consciousness?"
"Yes." Dread prickled over my pelt. "What?"
"Mumje."
My stomach lurched. "No."
"Cristox—"
"No." The idea made me sick.
"The symptoms match," Tarrick said quietly. "Fever, altered consciousness, hypersexual behavior directed at whoever's nearby when it peaks. How long has she been with you?"
I gazed down at her unconscious form, and how her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. "Twenty minutes, maybe more. She escaped the compound before passing out."
"Goddess." Tarrick's voice was tight. "Cristox, mumje doesn't just make them compliant. It rewires them. Bonds them to whoever they're with when the drug fully activates. She kissed you?"
"Yes." The word came out strangled.
"Then you're already in her system. Her body's trying to imprint on you."
I felt sick. Mumje was illegal on every civilized world in the Alliance. It stripped away free will, turning sentient beings into devoted slaves who would do anything—anything—for the person they bonded with.
I looked at her face, peaceful now in unconsciousness, and wanted to put my fist through something. She hadn't chosen this. Hadn't chosen to run, to find me, to kiss me. The Kwado had taken her choice away.
And I'd kissed her back. I felt like an ass.
"How do I fix this?" I asked.
"Depends," Tarrick said grimly. "If she only got mumje, you can keep her sedated until it wears off, but..."
"But what?" I demanded.
"Remember those dead humans we found on Uridian Prime?"
My stomach roiled. Of course I remembered. Three females left in a room to die.
"Alliance medics determined they'd been given mumje along with something else. Venerem."
This just kept getting worse.
"Venerem." I spat the word like poison. Because that's what it was. An aphrodisiac so potent it turned its victims into creatures of pure need, their bodies burning with a craving that wouldn't stop until it was satisfied... or their bodies gave out.
"Slavers use it," Tarrick said quietly. "On the ones who fight too hard. Mumje makes them devoted, but venerem makes them desperate. They'll do anything to ease the ache."
I glanced down at the woman in my arms, and rage flooded through me. The Kwado had done this to her. They’d pumped her full of chemicals designed to break her, to turn her into a willing participant in her own enslavement.
"If she has both in her system..." I began.