The Prisoner's Deception (Renegades Book 4) Read online

  He was thirty or so madith from the clearing when he saw them attacking the Hieladan. A familiar Hieladan at that. Though Danithor had only seen Adalth once, from a distance, the male was a distinctive, imposing presence.

  The villagers would die fighting him. Adalth was an ex-slave, pit fighter, and an all-around bastard.

  Resolved to leave, Danithor was turning when motion caught his eye.

  Moving on the snowshoes the old man had made for him, Danithor followed the figure deeper into the woods. A shaft of light through the thick snow in the forest canopy revealed dark hair and the soft, tender skin of a human—a female one, at that.

  Danithor froze. That a human should be here, now, at a time when he was so close to escaping! This was a gift from—no! He would not invoke that name, not for something like this.

  Still, it was a gift. He could sell the human at Caras. With the money he had already gained from his last job, even splitting it with Halver would be enough. His previous plan of rescuing his parents and son from his homeworld, Huan, and finding a safe place to take them suddenly expanded. Whereas before, in this scenario, he’d helped them find a home, he’d left again, shortly after to resume his life of crime so that he could support them. However, with the money he got for a human female, he could set up a legitimate business. He could become an upstanding member of society again.

  Tracking the loud female through the woods as she huffed and fought her way through the snow, Danithor moved towards her in small increments.

  She stopped in a clearing and looked up at the canopy of navy blue leaves and snow. Throughout spring and summer, the trees were a startling sight. Dark blue, teal, and black leaves stood out against the silver and grey trunks. When autumn came, the familiar shedding of the leaves hadn’t happened. Danithor asked Godan about it, and was told that the leaves died, but stayed on the trees, appearing exactly the same dead as they had alive. When spring came, the new growth pushed the old leaves to the forest floor.

  Danithor watched her from the shadows, seeing the fear and wonder battle across her face for dominance. When the war was done, it was resolve that won.

  She ventured beneath the snow. For a moment, Danithor’s throat constricted. If the snow should collapse, he was sure it would kill her. Spurred on, he quickly took off his snowshoes and followed her under the trees.

  In the darkness, Danithor’s vision improved. Huan lived in caves on their world. While it wasn’t their natural terrain, in the thousand solars since they’d been forced to go underground, they had adapted. Able to see better than the crashing human, he moved up until he was right behind her. The wind shifted, and he caught a whiff of her tantalising scent, clean and fruity. It was a fragrance that would net him a lot of credits, he thought to himself.

  Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around her small, soft body.

  ‘Ah!’ she cried out, struggling against him.

  Danithor grinned, taking in a deep breath, he caught more of her scent. He leaned in, unable to help himself, burying his nose in her hair and bathing in it.

  Moving her head forward, the female threw it back into Danithor’s armoured head. She grunted, then a moment later went slack in his arms.

  Danithor stood in the clearing with the unconscious female hanging from him, unsure whether to laugh or not. Huan heads were heavily armoured with V-shaped ridges running up along their bald heads. While he found the circumstances funny, the female might have done actual damage to herself.

  Sighing, Danithor placed her down on the ground. From this vantage point, he got a better look at her.

  Her black hair was loose and hung down her shoulders and over one breast. She was wearing the standard prisoner jumpsuit, which was completely unsuitable for the environment they were currently in. The Adosians won a prison contract from the IGC. But it was up to them what clothing and supplies were provided. Everything was basic and barely worth stealing, but stealing the supplies wasn’t why the villagers really went to greet each new batch of prisoners.

  Crouching, Danithor gently lifted her head from the ground and ran his hands over it. There was no blood in her glossy hair. There was no lump on her soft and tender skin.

  He placed her head back down and checked that her chest was moving and the human hadn’t killed herself. Up and down, up and down, he watched, fascinated by the movement.

  Shaking himself out of it, Danithor quickly ran through what he needed to do to get them both to safety. He had to get back to the cave, get her out of this cold and safe from the villagers who would, inevitably, follow.

  Grabbing a fur from his shoulders, Danithor wrapped it around her as best he could. He grabbed some cloth and compacted some snow, placing it against her head and securing it with the fabric.

  Drifts of snow spiralled to the ground in front of him. Danithor watched the canopy, distrustful that the snow would stay where it was. Occasionally the snow would grow too heavy for the tree roof to support it. A loud creaking noise would fill the wood as the icy, compacted snow began to break apart. Then the snow would fall, carrying branches and leaves to the forest floor and covering everything in a blanket too heavy for living things to push through to safety.

  Come spring, when the new leaves pushed the old out of place, the leaves would cover the forest floor, ready for the local wildlife to feast on when they came out of hibernation. Occasionally, they would find the defrosting remains of something that had once been alive and a fight would break out among the hungry predators. Most of the planet's natural inhabitants went into hibernation; the few that didn’t ate around the fringes of the forest to stay safe.

  Moving quickly, Danithor grabbed her bag and put it over his shoulder. He then picked the human up, noting how little she weighed in his arms.

  It would usually take him less than a hacri to get back to the cave. It took just over, with the little human in his arms.

  The entrance to the cave was hidden. Danithor made sure he wasn’t being followed and ducked into the hidden pathway and followed the path up the steep rock.

  There was a small cave entrance hidden up the pathway. Danithor sighed with relief when his feet hit the dry cave.

  As he took his first steps, he heard an engine. Looking up, he saw another ship descending close to where the prison ship had set down. More prisoners? He studied the silhouette against the dark sky. No, not Adosian. The silhouette suggested a Hinari ship. Had another prisoner arranged an escape?

  A creaking noise filled the wood, followed by the sound of the snow falling, breaking branches and landing on the forest floor. Danithor grinned as the snow rolled over the ground and covered what few spartan tracks he’d left once he cleared the tree canopy. He wouldn’t have to return to cover their tracks. He raised his head to the orange-gold sky and pretended not to thank his god for protecting them.

  Continuing on, the cave heated as he walked inside. The cliff was on the side of a volcano. Hot springs littered the cave system and it meant that it was always warm, if a little humid.

  He walked for another few metri, going deeper into the cave until he came to the bathroom. A hot spring stream ran from one side of the cave to the other, flowing under the wall and disappearing through the rock. In the lower stream, Danithor did his business. In the upper stream was a pool the previous occupant of the cave had carved for him and the Surilan slave he’d brought here to keep safe after they fell in love. He continued on, walking through it for a couple more metri before he finally came to a manmade wall separating the cave from the cabin Godan had built.

  Godan was Raqhan. In their space, slavery was a divine right. If Raqhan had children with slaves, they had to be sold on as any child born a slave, had to remain a slave. Worse, there was only one way to change your slavery status in Raqhan space. Earn enough credits in the fight pits to buy your freedom, and there was only one fight pit in Raqhan space that allowed that. Alidai. When Godan fell in love with his Surilan slave, he couldn’t stand by and allow her to remain a slave, or worse
, watch their children be stolen from them. He brought her to this abandoned world, disappearing so they could both be free.

  When Danithor arrived, several cycles before, Godan was an old man, dying and alone, his Surilan mate having passed away the year before. The two males became friends, and Danithor helped him in his last cycles, even providing him with death rites. It was the first time he’d done anything like that since—forcing himself to turn from painful thoughts, he walked over to the door and let himself in.

  The cabin Godan had built was at once simple and luxurious. It was one room laid out over three stepped levels. The top level was the kitchen and eating area, the middle level was the living area, and the bottom level the sleeping area. Taking the steps down, Danithor carefully laid the human out on his bed. He unwrapped her head, noting that the snow was melting quickly now that he was in the much warmer caves and cabin. He disposed of it in the sink and returned to her with the medical kit.

  While Godan was a self-imposed exile, he was also a man who had liked his luxuries and had left the planet to stock up often. Or at least he had until several prisoners had found and stolen his ship. Now rations were tight, and Danithor hoarded everything. But this human was worth more than any job he’d ever done.

  Walking back to her, Danithor had the chance to take her in properly for the first time. Someone had brutalised her. He sat down heavily on the bed as he took in the blue bruises that were fading to green and yellow around the edges. Her lip was freshly healed, with fading lines showing healing splits. She had bruising around both eyes, and her nose appeared to have been broken recently.

  Swallowing, Danithor reached to the magzip in her suit and tugged it open part of the way before stopping. There were bruises around her neck and down her chest. He pulled back the sleeves on her small, delicate wrists. Wrists that reminded him of the Totoro birds that somehow survived the brutality of his homeworld. Small and delicate, like this female.

  Both wrists had fading yellow bruises upon them.

  The prayer was on his lips before he could stop himself. It faded the words dying on his tongue and carrying his distant past with it. He wasn’t that male anymore. He hadn’t been for over six standard solars.

  Opening the med pack, Danithor got out the small scanner. He wasn’t sure if it would be calibrated for humans, but he ran it over her head anyway. The scanner confirmed his suspicions; she had a concussion. Gritting his teeth, Danithor picked up the one spray of nanobots he had and injected the female with them. She was worth the expense, and it would pay for itself once he got her to Caras. The injection also included a sedative, so she would sleep until morning while the nanobots finished their work.

  She was still cold, though. Her whole body was shaking. Danithor laid his hand over her and felt her skin, still ice cold. Humans were supposed to be warm, weren’t they? He reviewed everything he knew about humans. They were small, soft, warm, or was that their cunts? No, their cunts were hot and wet. Their skin was soft and warm.

  Growling at the fear of losing her, and this opportunity, Danithor undid her magzip and peeled the suit off her. Beneath her clothing, she was wearing a strange device that cupped her full breasts, and a covering for her sex.

  There wasn’t an inith of her body that wasn’t covered in bruises. Her ribs were the most faded. How had the fragile bones on this weak human stayed intact? He placed two fingers over them, one at a time, checking and testing to see if there was any sign they were broken. If they were, he couldn’t feel anything, but the nanobots would take care of them if there were.

  He pulled her into his arms to share his heat. He was holding her for almost a metri when he decided to take her back to the spring.

  Going back the way he’d come, the human in his arms, he stepped down into the spring fully clothed and submerged them both. He lowered her onto his lap, tucked against her body, and surveyed her face once more.

  Who had done this to her? Why? Humans were harmless.

  Danithor remembered the one with red hair he’d seen in the bar in Caras when he did the deal with the Kathen. She was taller, he remembered, and full of fire. He’d seen her and estimated the credits he’d get for her. Danithor studied the human and tried to estimate the credits he’d get for her.

  A number wouldn’t come to mind. No matter what price he settled on, as soon as his eyes roamed her face, the price went up.

  The price went up until she was…

  The thought trailed away. He had no answer.

  There was a smell. Tara only realised it was food when her stomach growled in response to the thickening scent on the air. There was definitely a mushroom smell, and though Tara couldn’t smell bacon and eggs, she was sure, in the fuzzy afterthoughts of her mind, that there had to be bacon and eggs. Who on Earth would fry mushrooms and leave out the bacon?

  Tara had no idea what she’d done the previous night, but she hoped to be regaled with tales of her stupid, brave deeds.

  She felt the aches and pains of what she hoped was a funny story involving at least one ‘chat’ to the police and no police ‘chats’ to the academy! Had she wrestled a bear last night? Or Sophia?

  Tara took in a deep breath and for the first time in a long time, the pinched, pained feeling was gone. Memories crashed through her mind. Endurance, Zoe, and the purple devil, Sophia carrying the full burden alone and the Hinari! That green bastard Hinari!

  Adalth!

  Tara opened her eyes and sat up in one fluid motion. The pain to her ribs was gone entirely, but the rest of the Hinari’s attention was still on full display for all to see.

  She was in some kind of cabin. An incredibly cute cabin, though it definitely had an interesting ‘a man has lived here alone’ smell to it permeating underneath the smell of cooking mushrooms.

  She was lying in a bed which was set at an angle to the wall in front of her. A log-burning stove sat in a corner, a glow coming from the small window, something suspiciously like a kettle sitting atop it. Tara turned. To the side was a chest of drawers. A small set of steps peeked out behind it, leading to the level above which she could see because it was almost parallel with the bed. There was a sofa on that level with a blanket folded on one seat, and a pillow sat atop it. Someone had obviously spent the night there, giving up their bed to her.

  Up one level from that, an alien man stood with his back to her, his bald head slightly bent as he cooked on a larger stove.

  The back of his head was cerulean, darkening almost to sapphire. He reached out a hand to something on the counter next to him. The back of his hands were also cerulean, but the palm of his hand flashed red before he picked up the item and went back to cooking, setting it down a moment later.

  He was tall and broad, though it was hard to judge from this angle. She couldn’t help noticing the firm, rounded buttocks filling out his pants and the way the muscles of his shoulders moved beneath the material of his clothes.

  Clothes. Tara realised she was in little more than a bra and panties. She quickly assessed her body, but for the second time on waking, was relieved to feel nothing that made her think this alien had assaulted her as she slept. In fact, she felt better than she had in days.

  Looking around, Tara found her jumpsuit folded on the floor of the level next to her, her boots sitting next to them. Grabbing them, she quietly moved across the bed, slipped out, and slipped her legs into the jumpsuit.

  ‘Ah, there you are. Hungry?’

  Tara yelped and covered her exposed upper half with her arms, turning her head to see the alien working at another counter, this one facing her.

  ‘Could you turn around please?’ she hissed at him.

  The alien smirked, his lips pulling to one side of his face. His eyes were lilac, she realised, his cheekbones sharp enough to cut through fabric. He had a square jaw. His face was red, though it was darker than she’d first thought. The red blended into the cerulean that covered the top of his head, which was covered in V-shaped ridges.

  The red cont
inued down his throat, but the rest of his neck was the same cerulean, though it was getting darker and darker until it was almost sapphire as it disappeared beneath the material.

  ‘Do you like my appearance, little human?’ he asked.

  Tara pursed her lips, refusing to be embarrassed about examining the alien. ‘You wish,’ she snapped. ‘Now, please turn around, I’ve asked you twice, politely. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me get dressed.’

  The smirk grew. ‘I’m not stopping you.’ He looked at her. The lilac swirls of his eyes seemed to be moving ‘But as you asked politely.’ He turned around and moved back to the stove. ‘First meal will be ready in a couple of metri. If you need to relieve yourself, there is a flowing spring, if you follow that door and the path. You’ll come to it and a pool. Please don’t defecate in the pool.’

  ‘I would never!’ Tara gasped, her voice several octaves higher than she’d like.

  The alien chuckled.

  ‘You’ll need to remove most of your clothing to relieve yourself. But there are towels there and a drying unit, primitive though it is. You are safe here. None of the other prisoners know this cabin exists.’

  As he’d been talking, Tara pulled the jumpsuit up and did up the strange fastener. She put her boots on, then walked up cautiously towards the alien.

  ‘Why did you bring me here?’

  He turned back to a slab of meat he was cutting into long strips and added them to the pan.

  ‘I grabbed you in the forest, thinking I needed to keep you from screaming. You tried to defend yourself and knocked yourself out on my head.’ He looked at her, amusement on his face. He rapped his knuckles off his head. ‘My people are naturally armoured.’ He smiled at her again. It was a beautiful, disarming smile.

  He was just as pretty as Marcus, in his own alien way. Her stomach lurched, and her heart fluttered. Tara bit the inside of her mouth and gritted her teeth in a desperate bid to control her automatic reaction.

  Attracted to an alien. Way to go, Tara!