Mary and the Minotaur by Honey Phillips
Chapter Two
Sendat scowled down at the scarred surface of the table he had commandeered in the back corner of the busy bar. He pretended to take a swig of the Yadek whiskey—expensive enough to show that he had funds, but not so expensive as to catch the eye of any ruffians on the lookout for rich targets. Not that he was particularly worried about being jumped. His size, his muscles, and his horns—not to mention the Bukharan reputation—would be enough to deter any but the most desperate males. He just preferred to avoid unnecessary violence.
“Are you all alone?”
The sultry voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see one of the Tajiri whores who frequented the bar standing by his table. She still retained a pretty face despite her profession, and she had the tall, athletic body he usually preferred, but he wasn’t even remotely tempted.
“Waiting for someone.”
She managed to look disappointed, even though he suspected her disappointment was as false as her tits. He tossed her a coin, then realized his mistake when her eyes lit up with an avaricious gleam.
“I could wait for you,” she suggested, then licked her lips. “Or join you both.”
“Not tonight.”
When she opened her mouth again, he let out a low huff, just enough to warn her off. Her eyes widened as she shrank back. Then she tossed her head and sauntered away, her tail swinging defiantly. He bit back a sigh. It would have been nice to lose himself for a few hours in a willing body—even if he had to pay for that willingness—but he knew that in the end it wouldn’t do anything but leave him feeling hollow. This job was already weighing on him far too heavily.
When he’d left the Emperor’s personal service and joined the Imperial Fleet, he had visions of making the Kaisarian Empire a better place. The Emperor had decided to integrate the Fleet, allowing members of any species in the Empire to join, and Sendat had been excited to be one of the first Bukharans. But life in the Fleet turned out to be more boring than he had anticipated—most of their time focused on displays of power rather than rendering actual assistance to any of the systems in the Empire.
When Captain Arulo had approached him about going undercover instead, he had accepted eagerly. The excitement had soon worn off. Although it was satisfying to bring down an illegal operation, the constant association with the worst kind of degenerates had turned him hard and cynical. This past year on Yangu, trying to track down the source of the illegal slave trade, had been the worst. He’d been forced to take part in a number of criminal enterprises, just to make the connections he needed.
Sometimes he felt as if he had become someone else entirely—someone he despised.
But what else was he going to do? Go back to formal uniforms and elaborate displays of military might? Retire to a shack on the beach and gather shells? He snorted, and the Gliese merchant at the next table jumped, then slid his chair further away from Sendat.
Once, his instinct would have been to apologize. Now he simply glared at the other male. The encrypted communicator on his belt suddenly vibrated. It was time. He scowled down at it, already dreading the evening’s activities. A band of illegal slaves was arriving tonight, and he would be participating in their sale and transfer. With any luck, he would be able to identify both the source and their destination. Even better would be identifying the mastermind behind the whole enterprise. Once he had enough information, he could call in the Fleet.
With another disgusted snort, he took an actual swig of the Yadek, enough to send a line of fire down his throat. Fuck. If he was resorting to alcohol to numb his unhappiness, it was definitely time to ask for a new assignment.
Several hours later, his frustration had only worsened. The shipment had been the usual mixture of pitiful males, many of them guilty of no more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A few would be sold to buyers here in the city, but the majority would be bought to be sent to the mines to dig for the gemstones that formed the basis of the Yangu economy. Most of the owners had switched to machinery, but machinery was expensive and it didn’t always identify the smaller gems. Some of the owners still preferred manual labor—and were none too picky about the source of that labor.
Based on what he had been able to discover, they had small groups of “legal slaves” who were housed and fed in accordance with Imperial law. But these wretches would be destined for the deeper pits where no representative would ever see them, and they would be worked until they died.
He had just shoved the last male into one of the temporary cages, keeping his grip firm but not cruel, when a low buzz of excitement filled the room. He turned around in time to see a drunken Ceekat stagger into the warehouse, trailing a female behind him.
He wanted to close his eyes and curse the gods, but like every other male in the place, his eyes were fixed on that small cloaked figure. Even beneath the oversized garment, he could see the swell of her breasts and hips. A hint of sweet, floral scent drifted across the space, and to his shock, his cock responded.
Not my type, he reminded himself, and then the Ceekat pushed back the hood of her cloak. Wide frightened blue eyes set in a pale, pretty face met his. Oh, fuck. This wasn’t just any female. This was a human, like the one who was now mated to the Emperor. She even bore a superficial resemblance to the First Consort.
“What the fuck?” he growled. The female jumped when he spoke, then looked up at him with those wide blue eyes. He expected her to shrink away as he strode over to them, but instead she tilted her head to one side and studied his face as he snapped at the merchant. “Who the hell are you?”
“Trothar Ad’Lison, scrap merchant,” the Ceekat mumbled. He attempted to make a formal bow, but he was so intoxicated he almost fell over.
Perhaps he could use the male’s drunkenness to his advantage and get him and the human female out of here before—
“How did you find us?” a cool voice interrupted his thoughts.
Mokuu, the Tajiri male running this part of the operation, had emerged from his small office. Fuck. There was no chance of getting the female out of here now—he would just have to play along until he could find a way to rescue her.
“Everyone knows what’s goin’ on here,” Trothar said, gesturing aimlessly around the warehouse. “Ask Bavalo. He knows me,” he added, referring to the guard who was supposedly watching the entrance.
Fucking Bavalo. He was as worthless as most of Mokuu’s other employees. No doubt the useless male assumed Sendat would take care of the intruder. Of course, the fact that he wasn’t incompetent was the reason Mokuu hired him in the first place.
Mokuu did not look happy about the male’s words, and for good reason. If this location had been compromised, they would need to move up their timing. Sendat had a different concern—if slaves had been moving through this warehouse on a regular basis, it argued that it was a much larger operation than he had originally suspected.
“Not here to cause trouble,” the Ceekat added as their forbidding expressions seemed to penetrate his drunkenness. “Just want to do some trading of my own. For this female.”
“Trade her? For what?” Mokuu asked.
“Another female. This one’s too soft.”
Sendat bit back an exclamation of disgust. How could any male not want that delightfully soft, curvy body for his own? He scowled and shook his head. “We don’t—”
“—have another female at this location,” Mokuu interrupted. “But we could make arrangements. Do you have something in mind?”
Trothar scuffed his feet along the floor. “I always wanted a Scraak female.”
Sendat did his best to hide his shock. This imbecile preferred one of the insectoid races to this beautiful female?
“I believe that could be arranged,” Mokuu agreed, even though Sendat was positive that he didn’t have such a female. “May I offer you a drink while I research?”
“Hell yeah.” The Ceekat started to raise his hand, then seemed to remember he was still gripping the wrist of the human female. He hesitated, then let it drop. Sendat wanted to roar with anger when he saw the red marks of the unworthy male’s fingers on her pale flesh.
The female took an uncertain step away from the Ceekat, and Sendat could see the impulse to flee on her face. Apparently, so could Mokuu.
“Don’t even think of trying to run, female. You will be punished.” His voice was cold, ruthless, and the female shivered, then raised her chin.
“My name is Mary,” she said in a low, sweet voice. “I think this is all some kind of misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?” Mokuu laughed, and Sendat thought he looked genuinely amused. “I’m afraid you’re the only one who doesn’t understand. You belong to me now.”
No!Sendat had to fight back the urge to challenge Mokuu on the spot. He couldn’t throw away months of work over a single female.
“I want her,” he growled anyway.
Mokuu raised an eyebrow with the smug superiority so common to the Tajiri. From the corner of his eye, he could see Mary’s gaze fixed on him.
“I hardly think you can afford her, Sendat.”
“Don’t care who buys her, s’long as I get what I want,” Trothar mumbled, his eyes darting between them.
“This is my operation,” Mokuu said coldly. “Sendat is well aware of that. We will discuss it after I find you that drink. Right, Sendat?”
Mokuu flicked a glance at him, and he forced himself to nod. Then Mokuu led the Ceekat into the office, leaving Sendat alone with Mary. His immediate impulse was to reassure her, but he couldn’t take the chance that she might inadvertently reveal his position.
“Your name is Sendat?” she asked softly.
He simply inclined his head, ignoring the rush of pleasure that swept over him at the sound of his name on her lips.
“Can you help me?”
“No.”
The answer sounded harsh, even to his own ears, but she didn’t flinch. Those big blue eyes were still fastened on his face. Before she had a chance to ask him anything else, Mokuu returned.
“Now what’s this about, Sendat?”
“I told you—I want her. I’ve never had a human.” He did his best to slip back into his usual callous role.
“I doubt you could afford her. She’s worth a fortune to the right buyer.”
Mokuu was right, but perhaps there was another alternative. If he could just get her away from Mokuu, even briefly, he would find a way to get her to safety.
“Too rich for my blood,” he agreed. “But I don’t want her permanently. Just to fuck for a few nights.” He forced himself to ignore Mary’s quiet gasp and kept his eyes on Mokuu. “I was thinking of a temporary arrangement—until you find a permanent buyer.”
“Hmm.” Mokuu looked from Sendat to Mary, his gaze calculating. “What if you damage her?”
“I won’t,” he growled, then forced himself to shrug. “I know not to damage my toys. Especially when I want my share of the profits from the sale.”
“I might be willing to consider it—for a sufficient number of credits.”
“How much?”
Mokuu smirked as he named his price. Sendat knew the other male was only playing with him, believing that the amount was far beyond his ability to pay. However, he had accumulated a large number of credits during his undercover work and he’d had no intention of spending those ill-gotten gains—until now.
“Done.”
Mokuu raised a brow, then shrugged and nodded. “Just remember that if she is damaged in any way, then you will owe an equal amount.” His eyes turned cold. “And you will pay—one way or another.”
Sendat didn’t pretend to misunderstand. The implication was quite clear. If he did not pay the debt, he would be forced into slavery himself.
