Chapter 12 Mercy in the Darkness, Lorian #2
“The collar can induce pleasure as effectively as it can pain,” Kry explains. “Most find the former more difficult to resist than the latter. Breaking the mind through the body's betrayal is an Octopod specialty, you know.”
The woman's soft thighs press together, and her hands clench into fists at her sides as she fights the unwanted sexual sensations. Her green eyes meet mine as her body betrays her.
The sight unsettles me, not only for her sake, but because I feel my own body respond in ways I resent. “Enough.”
Kry's tentacles curl in amusement. “So you do have an interest. I've heard rumors about your preferences, Lorian. How you enjoy breaking strong women. This human pet could provide you with weeks of entertainment before you tire of her. Then maybe you could settle with one of those Reima Two socialites who throw themselves at your feet.”
“The credits will be sufficient,” I say coldly. “Have them transferred to my account, along with confirmation of the shipment's release.”
Disappointment ripples across Kry's features. “As you wish. Though the offer remains open. Perhaps as a gift, to ensure no lingering resentment between our organizations?”
“I don't accept gifts that require feeding,” I reply. “Just the credits.”
When the transaction is complete, I verify the shipment's security codes and the credit transfer personally, avoiding looking at the humans still displayed like merchandise in the chamber. But I can feel the redhead's eyes on me, watching, perhaps hoping.
As we prepare to leave, something in me shifts. I make a decision from the darkest part of my soul. I cannot save these women. I cannot take them with me. But I will not leave them to suffer.
“One moment,” I say, turning back toward Kry. “I'd like to inspect the human merchandise after all. A final consideration.”
“Of course. Perhaps you've reconsidered our generous offer of human flesh?”
I approach the women, activating the neural implant embedded in my right wrist with a subtle mental command.
The microscopic delivery system under my fingernails warms as it synthesizes the compound Quietus, a rare assassin's tool that’s banned in seventeen systems. Colorless, odorless, and absorbed instantly through skin contact. Death comes painlessly within the hour.
Mercy, in its darkest form.
I move to the blonde first, lifting her chin as if examining her features. My fingers brush her neck, just below her ear, as if I were caressing a lover instead of delivering the lethal nanites.
“Impressive bone structure,” I comment dispassionately, seeing the brief flash of recognition in her blue eyes. She knows. Somehow, she understands what I've done, and gratitude crosses her face before she lowers her gaze again.
Next, I move to the woman with the fluffy hair, checking her brown eyes, running my thumb along her lips as if assessing her value. I give one final slow brush of her lower lip, and she closes her eyes. Another silent acceptance.
“Healthy specimens,” I note to Kry, who watches with obvious satisfaction.
Finally, I reach the redhead. As I brush my fingertips across her cheek, deliberately gentle, delivering the final dose, her green eyes meet mine. No doubt she can feel the heat from the Quietus, and I hope she understands what I've done.
I'm not going to leave them to suffer in this hellhole. I hold eye contact with her, silently praying to the goddesses for them all to pass peacefully. But I’m surprised by what I see in the auburn-haired woman’s eyes. Rather than gratitude or relief, I see determination, and I feel guilty.
Her hand quickly grabs my wrist; her grip is surprisingly strong. “Take me with you,” she begs fiercely in her human tongue.
I'm stunned by her boldness.
The collar crackles a warning from her Octopod handler, and pain crosses her face, but she doesn't release me or look away.
Oh, sweet human, you’re dead already. I’m sorry. I step back, breaking her hold and wiping my hand casually against my trousers, activating the neutralizing agent that prevents any accidental transfer of the toxin.
“I've seen enough,” I tell Kry. “I'll pass for now.”
As we turn to leave, the redhead calls out to me, her voice breaking through the pain of her collar, “Please! Take me with you! Don't leave me here with these monsters!”
I look back as the Octopod handler yanks hard on her collar, sending her sprawling onto the slick floor. Her naked body slides through the viscous coating, and even in this desperate moment, despite myself, I can't help noticing the curves of her attractive body.
I am a monster.
“Control your merchandise,” I say to Kry, my voice like ice. Then I force myself to walk away, to keep my stride measured and controlled as we exit the hellish chamber, the desperate pleas cut off by the closing doors.
Even though I can no longer see her, her green eyes still haunt me, and to my disgust, my body still burns with unwanted arousal.
The image of the redhead's gleaming naked body, the pink flush across her skin, the unruly hair between her legs, and the unwilling response to the sexual stimulation—it all triggers the most sinister parts of me.
As we return to Nocturne’s Edge, I try to force these thoughts away, appalled with myself. But the weight of what I've done—the mercy killing and then walking away—sits heavy in my chest.
Rafe would say I've grown soft. Perhaps he's right.
But after my latest interaction with Autumn, now that I know humans have souls, I cannot treat them like the mindless creatures I thought them to be before.
I think about our new employee and hope that if she were taken by Octopods, that someone would give her the same mercy that I gave those unfortunate women.
“Sovereign, we have confirmation. The shipment is being loaded into our hold,” my lieutenant reports.
I nod, my mind is still in that chamber. “Set a course for the Celestial Spire when it’s all accounted for.”
“And the Octopods, Sovereign? Do we leave them a message?”
“I already left a message.”
The Nocturne’s Edge pulls free of the station. I stare into the stars and try to stifle my guilt, but it lingers. The memory of that woman’s desperate plea echoes in my thoughts, and I tell myself that I made the only choice I could.