Planet Athion: The Complete Series by Angel Lawson

31

Mercy

Kane,or whatever his name is, pushes me onto the stage. I cover my eyes; the lights are bright and glaring. It makes the crowd invisible—a dark blob in the distance--but I sense them out there. I know. I can feel their eyes on my skin. I’m in a room filled with my enemy and I just want to run. I remember what Rhise told me, and jut my chin in the air while holding my shoulders back. I kept an expression of calm smugness on my face. Or I tried—damn, I tried.

A voice echoes in the room, speaking fast—seemingly in a language I don’t understand. Maybe I don’t want to understand. I catch words. Mid-wife. Birthing. Breasts. A figure moves from the shadows and I feel gloved hands on me. My arms are raised, my height and weight declared. Red hair, natural. Blue eyes, 20-20 vision. My age, my birthing status—even the date of my last ovulation. It’s noted that I’m not a virgin—not on Earth, but that no alien has penetrated me yet.

A murmur ripples through the crowd.

I want to vomit knowing these hands are violating me, but I hold firm—chin in the air, shoulders back. I don’t break my façade until I hear the starting bid: a million credits.

My head snaps to the left, toward the voice, when I hear that number. I don’t know much about the Athion economy, but I know that credits work like dollars and a million is a lot. I can’t see the auctioneer, I just hear my sale taking place and my autonomy vanishing forever.

The numbers rise with every voice. Digital signs flash in the room. I blink into the bright lights on the stage, trying to keep up. At one point I think there’s a scuffle—a fight—but it stops as quickly as it starts.

“Sold! Lot number twenty-six. For six million credits, to the gentleman in the back.”

My hands shake. It’s over, that fast. I’m no longer Mercy Ladd, woman of Earth, midwife. I’m number twenty-six. Property.

“Come,” Kane says, leading me off a stage. “Good showing, dear. You fetched me a hefty sum. It was worth the problems.”

“Problems?” I ask, looking back over my shoulder, wondering who purchased me.

“Those pesky Custos. I should have known they wouldn’t give up so easily.” He gives me an annoyed grin. “I told you they were attached.”

That little seed of information nestled in my stomach. Kai. Dimka. Alex. They hadn’t forgotten me. Not yet. Maybe they would come. Although, I know as quickly as I think it, how foolish that idea is.

Kane looks past me, eyes lighting up. “Ah. Mr. Barron, you’ve come to collect your Master’s prize.”

I turn and find a human. No, not just a human, a massive man. He’s dressed in fine clothing, all black and gray. His hair is dark, black, and long, tied behind his neck. I don’t know how I know the difference between this man and a Trad, but I just do. It may be the slight imperfections; the slant of his nose, obviously once broken in a fight, the scar on his hand.

“As you can tell, Mercy is a fine specimen. Mentally and physically,” Kane says. “But—feel free to inspect her.”

The man, Barron, flicks his gray eyes at my patron before they land back on me. There’s something unsettling about the way he looks at me—my stomach twists nervously.

“What do you mean, inspect?” I ask but he’s already begun, starting with my hands, lifting the right one and skimming the soft pads of his fingers along my palm and wrist. He touches my elbows, shoulders, then walks around to my back and lifts my hair. I feel the soft lingering touch of his hand on the small of my back, grazing just above my backside. I try my hardest to keep the tears from building when his thumbs run under my breasts—I expect him to go further but he doesn’t. He’s thorough but manages not to cross the line.

“Would you like her to strip?” Kane asks, nonchalantly.

Barron considers, touching his hand to his strong chin. “No. I think my boss would prefer to unwrap her on his own.”

My heart plummets.

Barron hands a square card to Kane, which my patron happily accepts. “Is everything in order?”

“Yes. All her paperwork is signed and the credits are in my account.” He smiles wickedly at me. “Tell your Master to enjoy this one. She’s worth every penny.”

A large hand wraps around my upper arm and I glance up at the giant man, who doesn’t even acknowledge my presence. As we leave the room, I can’t help but wonder if this is how it goes from now on. Handed over from man to man. Nothing more than an object.

As disturbing as that thought is, something darker worries my mind. Kane used the title 'Master.' For Barron and myself.

That means the giant man gripping my arm is a slave, too.