Chapter 8
Kiera
He hadn't won the right to be the one to take her to the crèche.
But he did find a way to accompany her, maybe simply by the fact that he outranked all the guards taking her there.
It was a silent group of four of them, two guards, Loren and Kiera, waiting for a downward elevator, something so prosaic as to be surreal.
She hoped the crèche would be somewhere off the property they were already at.
Any place where she had a chance to slip away.
She didn't think they'd go after her family then.
Her being sent here was to keep them safe, but Kiera was willing to risk getting away because she didn't think the crèche would be informed of that.
The Council had made its decision and that kept them from hurting her.
Past that, she was breeding stock. She didn't think one cow would be singled out in a dairy farm.
The comparison wasn't quite accurate but it still made her want to spit. The idea of keeping her family safe by allowing herself to be pimped out. More than that, really. Bred. Like an animal.
Idiotic then, that she kept sneaking glances over at Loren, blushing when she'd find him looking and accidentally catch his eye. She was acting like she was back in high school, like the time she developed a crush on a football player every single one of her friends said was bad news.
That hadn't come to anything. This had.
And if she was to be bred, if the Council had put her up for grabs, then maybe Loren first…
Her mind snapped back into clarity. She had no intention of making the trip to the crèche. Something had to distract the attention of the guards, maybe even Loren himself. So far he'd surprised her repeatedly. Maybe he could do it again.
And as for her family, like she'd been thinking before her thoughts had wandered off into a lustful muddle, the crèche undoubtedly didn't have a purchase order, she thought bitterly.
They probably just ho-hummed and accepted new girls, tossed them into the pool of flesh which in her dazed and overwhelmed mind, looked exactly like that – a hotel swimming pool full of nearly naked women struggling to keep their heads above water. Or each other.
If she ran, the crèche would never know.
Neither would the Council, now she was off the table, so to speak. The only one who would know would be Loren, who would have to help her if she was going to get away.
Only there was one glaring flaw in the plan.
Sav. Loren's brother. He was bigger, darker, meaner, his beard more full and to Kiera, who wasn't big on beards, more threatening.
He wasn't going to forget her or that she was being taken to the crèche.
She imagined he was even now waiting for the end of his shift or whatever it was Vampyren did before their free time started up.
He would come for her.
She shivered. She had no doubt he would hurt her. Maybe he couldn't kill her, but he didn't have to touch her gently.
The guards stood on either side of the doors at the front of the elevator as it descended.
Loren stood to her left, holding her arm in a tight grip.
With the guards standing in front of the panels, she couldn't see the floors light up and the display over the door had burned out or been dismantled for whatever reason.
But the elevator went down and down, dropping until she shivered with anticipation.
When they opened, there would be the glass and steel lobby of the building and beyond the banks of windows, the snow-covered city.
She could almost taste the bite of cold air.
But when the elevator doors opened she faced a floor of office building replete with banks of hallways and doors to offices, some open, some closed.
And in the center, facing the elevator, what would have once been a typing pool, a sort of bullpen but now full of women, some as scantily dressed as her imagination had conjured up.
It was blisteringly hot for someone still dressed in Chicago winter outdoor wear.
Of course it was. Vampyren males came here and took off at least some of their clothes. Their comfort would be important. And moreover, the women stuck here would dress in less and less as they sought anything to cool down.
The heat felt like a slap in the face. Like proof of what had happened to her. The crèche was not off-property, there would be no chance to run, and Kiera was pretty certain she had just been delivered to Hell.
"I'll come back," Loren said in a low voice, standing a distance from the guards who remained at the elevator. There was a stairway, but it was probably either locked or guarded at the bottom and top floor exits. There was nowhere else to go.
She saw a wizened woman standing nearby waiting, her face a mask of wrinkles but her body hard with muscle even if she was older. So someone had known she was coming.
Everything she'd hoped hadn't come to pass. Everything she had dreaded, had.
Not true. My family is safe.
So they said. Why was she taking the word of the alien invaders?
Because she had nothing else.
Loren had pulled her aside and now he repeated himself. "I know you don't care. But this is the best I could do. Believe me – " He stopped as if realizing that probably wasn't an option, cleared his throat and said, "Mahn? The leader of the Council? He's dangerous."
"You all are!" she spat.
She wanted to hit him. The urge to batter his face, to kick and claw, rose hard. At the same time, she identified it as the same force that had been behind her dropping out of college and ending up an unemployed waitress before the invaders had come.
When the going got tough, she didn't just run, she often made certain that she identified every other course of action she could take, and systematically destroyed them so she didn't have to deal with almost being successful, almost surviving whatever it was, and knowing that she hadn’t.
If she sent him away, if she made him her enemy, he might rape her but then he'd be done with her and she wouldn't have to hope.
Hope, she'd discovered long ago in her own twisted, scared world, was often far more terrifying than its opposite.
Loren, meanwhile, only nodded at her words. "Generally an invasion of sweet talking and gentle beings fails fairly quickly."
He said it so straight faced it took a second before she began to giggle. He'd made a joke! The big strong, everyone-of-them-an-alpha Vampyren male had made a joke.
She laughed because she couldn't stop herself, and his expression didn't change from menacing space vampire – except for one corner of his mouth. Which twitched.
When she subsided, he leaned in close again. "I'd wanted to keep you with me. I know that's not a comfort to you, but I won't hurt you. I admire your courage. But while you're here it won't serve you well. Survive, Kiera. This is not your story forever."
It would be if she became pregnant.
It would be until she became pregnant.
For someone who prided herself on taking care of herself and on being independent, it was every bit of horrifying and every bit forever.
He leaned down and stroked her hair one more time and Kiera felt the wash of flowers like something in her blood. There was no way to stop herself leaning into his touch, or leaning after him as he joined the guards and went away.
The older woman came toward her. When she was close enough she took Kiera's arm, the way apparently everyone was meant to do. "I'm Marybeth. Matron of this crèche. Come with me and we'll get the intake exam taken care of and – "
Kiera instantly pulled away from her, yanking her arm free and taking several giant steps backwards. "You're not going to touch me!" Bile rose in her throat.
Instantly women behind her had hold of her, by the arms, by her hair, there had to be three or four of them, and the matron was moving up close again.
Kiera didn't think. She heaved herself up against the arms holding her and kicked the older woman, getting her in the face but with less force than she'd intended, because Marybeth was already backing off.
"It's all right!" she snapped at the women who held Kiera. "Let her go. Let her go!"
The hands fell away from her. Kiera turned fast but she couldn't tell which of them had snarled a fistful of her hair. It had hurt. She owed whoever it was a good hair pulling.
The older woman ran a hand over her face.
"I'm not going to touch you." She held up a device like they used on Star Trek for medical and scientific scans, only she thought this one probably worked.
Vampyren technology, then, because she didn't think humans had anything like it. "I'm just going to scan you."
Kiera jerked her head angrily to indicate the world beyond this prison. "The assholes already did. That's how I ended up here."
Marybeth nodded tiredly. "Yes. I scan for more.
I won't touch you. Just need a few key facts.
" The machine hummed as she waved it around Kiera who stood tense, every muscle fighting back against a touch that truly didn't come.
"But if you'll take a piece of advice without literally trying to take my head off? "
Kiera was surprised to find herself blushing. She nodded, mouth closed tightly.
"Two things. First, we have classes late at night, dawn, really, when the Vampyren don't come often, teaching us the metaphysics of soul and body, divine and flesh."
Kiera blinked. "Why?"
The older woman nodded, as if finding Kiera and her question reasonable. "Because they will come for you and they will fuck you and breed you, and the more you can divorce yourself from the idea that your body is yourself and not your spirit, the better your mind will hold together."
Kiera shuddered again and swallowed down rising nausea.
"Learn as fast as you can to get past the embarrassment and humiliation and outrage at what's happening to your body. Exist in your mind and spirit. That way, neither will break."