A message from Ellora’s Cave, Inc. USA and Ellora’s Cave, Ltd. UK senior editor Cris Brashear: because this is a serial as opposed to a series, and because of the fact that THE HUNTER picks up where THE FUGITIVE left off, I highly suggest rereading Part I of the serial before commencing Part II if it’s been more than a few days since last reading it to keep the flow of the story and the suspense intact.

Warm Regards,

Crissy

Warning:

The following material contains strong sexual content meant for mature readers. “DEATH ROW: THE HUNTER” has been rated NC-17, erotic, by three individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic file in a place where young readers not meant to view this ebook are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy…

Chapter 17

My Beloved Nellie,

I see the way you look at me, the fear so apparent in your eyes, and it breaks my heart as nothing else could. I know what is happening to me, lass. I know that it’s just a matter of time before I am lost to you completely.

Will you ever know how much I love you, Nellie? Will you ever remember all of those precious years we spent together as a normal mother and daughter? Will you remember the walks in the rain, and the snowball fights every Christmas in the Winter Dome of the biosphere? Will you remember the giggles we shared every Sunday morning when we watched the virtual cyber-toons together?

Or will you remember me like this.

Like…a monster.

Oh, my beautiful Nellie, please don’t remember mommy this way…

Sinead Kan,

December 24, 2230

Chapter 18

January 9, 2250 A.D.

When she was certain the coast was clear, Nellie motioned with her hand for Cyrus 12 to follow her toward the next set of large boulders. The formation of rocks, which she assumed had been scattered throughout the jungle by Underground dwellers for concealment purposes, was perhaps another four or five miles away by foot.

She had known from her studies years back that the ancient Mayans had used the network of underground caves in their worship of the gods. She had not realized until the past two days just how many of these caves there were. It made the task of finding the Xibalba all the more difficult.

Xibalba, she thought on a sigh. She didn’t even know if it existed or not. The word meant Underworld in the ancient Mayan tongue. The Mayans had believed that the mouths of the caves were the entrance to the spiritual underworld of the gods. Nellie just hoped that the mouths of one of these caves would prove to be the entrance to her own salvation.

She traveled through the jungle in silence with her faithful droid at her side, surrounded by the sounds of nocturnal creatures rising from their slumber to hunt. Cyrus 12 stayed on constant alert for sub-human and hybrid animal activity, while Nellie remained in the lead, going in the direction of…

She wasn’t certain. She only knew that her instincts were telling her she was headed in the right direction, and instincts were all that she had to go on at this point.

If this Xibalba existed, she adamantly vowed to herself, then she would find it.

* * * * *

The next several days proved to be the hardest of Nellie’s life, and yet conversely, she became a more powerful woman for it. She grew stronger physically, learned how to feed and care for herself in an extreme environment, learned even how to wield deadly weapons to their best advantage.

The days were long and hot, the nights cold and lonely. She was more thankful than ever for Cyrus 12’s companionship, realizing as she did that her droid was now the only manner of friend she would ever have—could ever afford to have.

Some nights, even most nights perhaps, her mind would wander back to the Underground catacombs and to the mysterious man named Kerick who had stolen her away. As she lay beside the ever-vigilant Cyrus 12, her gaze staring unblinking into the makeshift embers of the dying fire they’d built for warmth, she wondered if he ever thought about her since she’d escaped him, or if he’d simply gone out and stolen another female as a replacement.

She frowned, cursing herself as an idiot for even contemplating the question to begin with. Sweet Cyrus, did the answer really matter? Did she even care?

Nellie sighed, her eyes feeling dried out from a prolonged lack of blinking. There was just something so solid about that man, so powerful. Ironically enough, the steel resolve and physical strength that had scared her so mightily when he’d first stolen her from the Altun Ha biosphere seemed as though they’d be a blessing now, an assurance that she’d live to see tomorrow instead of dying out here in the jungle tonight. She knew death could be lurking just around the next corner, could take her unawares at any given time…

But sweet Kalast, that hardly meant she should think back on her captor! He had been interested in mastering her, in fucking her, not in helping her develop a serum, she reminded herself.

Nellie took a deep breath and expelled it, then settled in next to Cyrus 12 under the animal furs. The droid wrapped a toned silver arm around her middle, offering silent comfort while the scientist slowly drifted off to sleep.

There was no use in thinking back on the past, and especially not on the enigmatic Kerick. Chances are, Nellie knew, that she had already been replaced by another female captive anyway. But if she hadn’t…

No. Even if she hadn’t been replaced she could never go back. Not just because he was bound to be angry with her for escaping after the trouble he’d gone through to capture her, but also because they had different, disparate goals.

Kerick wanted sex. Nellie wanted a safe haven to work in while she developed the serum. And so she would continue down the path she had chosen, while praying to Cyrus that the path led to the Xibalba.

Nellie closed her eyes on a sigh, telling herself not to think about it. She ignored the voice in her head that reminded her of how intrigued Kerick had seemed by her talk of the serum, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 19

January 21, 2250 A.D.

By the fourth week of Nellie’s disappearance, Kerick’s desire to recapture her became an all out obsession. She was all he could think about, all he ever dreamed about—all he wanted period.

For fifteen years he had controlled his bodily needs, not even allowing himself to masturbate except for on the rarest of occasions. At the time he had needed to exert that physical and mental control over himself, for it had helped him to retain his sanity in Kong. And, he conceded, it had also helped him to keep from grieving over never thrusting inside of a woman again.

But now he was free, a fact his body and mind refused to overlook. And the urge to mate, the urge to bury his cock deep inside of her tight, wet cunt, came upon him frequently and violently. His mental faculties felt no more advanced than an animal’s these days, as it seemed he was finding a place to be alone every other hour just so he could violently jack himself off.

He needed Nellie, he mentally reiterated for the millionth time. He needed some information—anything—even the smallest of rumors to go on, and he would find her.

As Kerick prowled toward the commons chamber—the Underground earthen room used as a communal dining place by seven or eight different tribes of outlaws who dwelled within these particular catacombs—he told himself he would make it through the meal long enough to ascertain if any of his men had picked up on Outside whisperings of Nellie, and then he would go. He couldn’t stand to be in the commons chamber longer than was necessary anyway, for he was damned tired of watching his brother fondle all over the female he’d claimed while Kerick had been forced into celibacy, separated from his own.

Had he once thought it amusing when his seventeen-year-old brother had captured a wench for his own use? He grunted. When Kerick himself had possessed his own woman, yes he had found it amusing. Now that he was alone, however, the amusing had mystically devolved into the annoying. Suddenly he understood how Xavier must feel.

Upon entering the commons chamber, the first thing Kerick saw was young Kieran standing over his claimed property, pounding into Karen’s pussy from behind like a battering ram. The wench was gasping from atop the stone table she’d been bent over, her breasts jiggling as she moaned during each hard thrust.

Kieran’s eyes were closed as if concentrating intently on the feel of his captive’s cunt, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as he pounded animalistically into her flesh from behind.

Kerick’s eyes shuddered, lust coming upon him. He had a feeling he knew what he’d be doing after the meal, and he also had a feeling he knew who he would be doing it with—himself, he frowned.

Sweet Cyrus he needed to find Nellie.

But as lustful as he was, it was more than his need to own her, more even than his need to thrust inside of her and pound away at whim that made him obsessed with finding her. He was also terribly worried about her and was desperate to protect her.

On the Outside, and especially in the Underground, rumors abounded like wildfire. Yet Kerick had heard no whispers of a female scientist on the run. It was as if Nellie had been erased from existence.

But in his heart he knew she was alive. Knew, too, that he would find her. Only this time, when eventually he recaptured her, he would make no foolish mistakes. He would master her immediately.

And he would make certain she never escaped him again.

* * * * *

It wasn’t until a bit later, a few minutes after Kieran’s lust had been properly satiated, that Kerick realized he now had a sister-in-law. When the young Master and his new wife sat down to eat, he saw that the wench was wearing nipple chains. The last time he had seen her that hadn’t been the case. Her nipples had been bare.

So Kieran had managed to get the wench pregnant, he mused. She had to be with babe. Otherwise his brother wouldn’t have been able to marry her. In a world where males outnumbered females almost five hundred to one, the laws of neither the biospheres nor the Outside worlds would permit for a wench to be forcibly married to a male who couldn’t breed her.

Kieran had proven his virility. And now his woman wore the nipple chains. No male save his brother would ever dare touch her again.

Kerick’s eyes flicked down to his sister-in-law’s breasts. A thin gold hoop circled the base of each nipple, the thin metal bands serving to keep her nipples plumped up. A delicate gold chain ran from the post of one hoop to the post of the other, symbolically binding her from the touch of other males.

His thoughts immediately returned to Nellie as a primordial jealousy knotted his insides. His brother now had the reassurance that no other male would ever touch his female. Kerick, on the other hand, had nothing.

His jaw tightened as he broodingly studied the new couple. He had to find Nellie. Now.

Kieran grinned as he flicked at one of his wife’s nipples. “Notice anything new on her, brother?”

Despite his melancholy mood, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The urgency Kerick felt to recapture his female before another male took her didn’t lessen, yet he couldn’t help but to take a moment to share in his brother’s happiness. Kieran was to be a father. “Congratulations to you both,” he murmured. “And welcome to the family, Karen Riley.”

His sister-in-law was polite enough to quietly murmur a thank-you to him, but she skittishly avoided his gaze—a fact Kerick found unsettling for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was as if she was hiding something, or perhaps plotting something, and was worried he would see right through her.

Or perhaps he was seeing conspiracies where they didn’t exist, he sighed. Ever since Nellie had fled from him, his grim mood had grown all the grimmer.

Still, he would keep an eye on Karen Riley. A naïve male in the throes of an all-consuming lust and love (and who’d been seventeen-years-old for approximately five hours) could be fooled. Kerick could not.

“She didn’t get her blood this moon cycle,” Kieran arrogantly informed him. The muscled arm that lay across his wife’s shoulder tightened, drawing her in closer to his side. “My babe is in her belly. Best birthday offering I’ve ever had.”

Kerick’s gaze flicked towards the new bride. She was pale as a sheet and slightly shaky. Almost as if she was in shock from the realization that she was pregnant. What had the wench expected to happen when Kieran had been eagerly mounting her day and night? Surely she was old enough to know how babes came to be in a female’s belly. She had to be nearing forty, close to Kerick’s own age.

“I’m happy for you, brother.” Kerick’s steel gaze trailed away from his sister-in-law’s and back to his younger sibling’s. “In truth, I am.”

And, Kerick realized, he really was happy for him. Kieran had been deprived of everything growing up, including a home and most of his family. Their maternal grandmother had raised him, and had dutifully brought the younger Riley to visit Kerick in Kong once a year. She had been old and frail, but she had also been smart enough to never let the Hierarchy get wind of how Kerick and Kieran were related.

Now their grandmother lay dead, her remains lodged deep within the belly of the earth. She had held on for as long as she could, but in the end old age and grief over having lost her only daughter to infection overtook her. While their grandmother had been alive, she had dutifully prayed to Cyrus every day, begging for a cure, pleading with the fates to spare her daughter…

Margaret Riley had done the unthinkable and gone into a remission of sorts for many years. Yet inevitably, tragically, his mother’s illness had reclaimed her body and soul a final, shattering time. Kerick simply counted his blessings that Kieran had not picked up their mother’s infected gene. His brother had undergone extensive testing from Underworld scientists and was without a doubt clean.

Kieran’s birth had been the result of a rape, of a male who had forced himself upon their mother until her belly had swollen with child. It was true that in their world forcing a wench to have sex was as commonplace as breathing, but nevertheless there were still rules governing the act. Kieran’s father had broken them all.

The sadistic bastard had shown their mother no kindness. He hadn’t even married her after she’d ripened with child, insisting he’d never wed with an infected freak. He had even gone so far as to inform Margaret that he had enough yen to buy a biosphere-raised female whom he could breed, so he had no intention of ever laying eyes on Kieran after his birth.

Not that his mother had given a yen, Kerick remembered. Margaret Riley had always been a fighter and pregnancy hadn’t changed that facet of her personality. If anything it had made her tougher and a thousand times more determined to invent a cure for her infection. But in the end she had been lost to them, Kerick had been so grief-stricken that he’d immediately taken out those he knew to be responsible for her regression, and Kieran had ended up being raised by their grandmother.

Marion Riley, Kerick thought nostalgically; were it not for their grandmother, the brothers would be virtual strangers today. But she had intervened and had made it possible for them to develop their brotherly affection. She had dutifully sent virtual messages to Kong once bimonthly, allowing the brothers to speak to one another as if they had been occupying the same chamber. The wily wench had even managed to make the virtual messages untraceable so the Hierarchy could never find Kieran. Their grandmother had done all she could do and more, and for that Kerick would always hold her memory in the highest esteem.

Kieran grinned, his next words breaking Kerick from his thoughts. “Alaisdair wants me to share her, you know. But I ain’t.” His smile devolved into a scowl. “I don’t share.”

Kerick snorted at that. Kieran had obviously inherited his possessiveness. “I don’t blame you, brother,” he mumbled, his mind wandering back to Nellie as it was prone towards doing. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Kieran sighed. “You’ll find her, Kerick. Nobody doubts it, you know.”

Kerick nodded but said nothing. If it was possible to find her, he would. He just needed a lead, any lead…

Xavier entered the communal stone chamber with a naked woman and her five Masters. Kerick immediately recognized the smiling and very pregnant female as Xavier’s younger sister Madra. Madra had been purchased with five hundred stolen yen by the Tomi family about a year ago, so she now served in the role of wife to the fifty-year-old patriarch of the clan, as well as to all four of his grown sons.

By whom the babe in her belly had been sired of was anyone’s guess, for it went without saying that all five of her husbands had mounted her. It was common for brothers to pitch in their yen and buy a communal wife, the general feeling being that so long as the males were of the same direct bloodline it didn’t matter who sired the wench’s children for the babes would still be of their line.

Kerick idly wondered how he’d grown to be such an oddity. Where most Underground men accepted, even expected, to share a wench, Kerick knew he’d kill any male who ever thought to touch Nellie.

Nellie, he mentally sighed. It always came back to Nellie. She might have escaped, but he still considered her to be his possession. He had no idea why he was so obsessed with her, a wench he barely knew, but there it was.

Perhaps it was because Nellie reminded him of his mother in fundamental ways—both were scientists, both were fighters. Perhaps he hoped that where he hadn’t been able to save Dr. Margaret Riley, he would be able to save Dr. Nellie Kan. That Nellie possessed an earthy, exotic lure didn’t exactly hurt matters, he conceded.

Xavier motioned toward him, inducing one of Kerick’s eyebrows to raise slightly. He murmured to his brother that he would bring his birthday offering down to him later, then stood up and walked towards his longtime friend.

Xavier O’Conner was roughly the same age as Kerick, thirty-eight to be exact. When Xavier had been captured by the Hierarchy and sent to Kong to work as a slave laborer for Federated Earth until his execution, Kerick had already been imprisoned for five years and their mutual friend Elijah for one year.

He had never expected to see either Xavier or Elijah again. When Kerick had first arrived at Correctional Sector 12 he had fully expected to be executed within a fortnight of arriving—when he learned he had been sentenced to fifteen years of slave labor before being put to death in the pit…well, that was when his plans for escape had begun to formulate.

Being reunited with his trusted friends had been both a solace and a sorrow. A solace because he was again surrounded by men he could trust, men he vowed to escape with. A sorrow because he knew there was no longer anyone on the Outside trained enough to continue the systematic assassinations of the Hierarchy leaders that the three of them had begun so many years back.

But they were free again. A fact every Hierarchy leader of Federated Earth was surely aware of by now. A fact that would cause every Hierarchy leader from Altun Ha to Dublin to exist in a constant state of paranoid wariness, inducing them to double their guard and tighten the security within their sectors.

As if that mattered. As if Kerick Riley, known as “The Grim Reaper” amongst his enemies, hadn’t considered the fact that they would do that very thing. Stupid, the lot of them.

“I’ve got news, old friend,” Xavier said on a grin.

Kerick grunted, then followed him to where they could converse in private. Growing up, Margaret Riley had often teased the boys that their personalities were like yin and yang, light and dark. Where her son Kerick was brooding and intense, his friend Xavier was easily humored and laid back. Elijah Carter had been somewhere in the middle, neither dark nor light of mood and expression.

Margaret, his mother, had often referred to them as her three babies, her prides and joys…her little killing machines, Kerick thought with a small, nostalgic half-grin. Ah—the wonders of boyhood.

“What the kong are you smiling about?” Xavier grumbled, now frowning. In truth, he only frowned when Kerick smiled—probably because the gesture mightily confused him.

Kerick shook his head slightly, snapping back to normal. “Nothing,” he muttered. “I was just thinking back on when we were boys.”

Xavier nodded. By mutual, silent understanding they never spoke of Dr. Margaret Riley aloud. And especially not to Elijah. Where Kerick and Xavier missed her as sons missed a mother, Elijah missed her as a lover who’d had his soulmate cruelly snatched from him.

Elijah and Margaret had never consummated their relationship, both Kerick and Xavier knew. The ebony giant had been deeply in love with Kerick’s mother, a short, pale woman twice his age, but he had honored her desire not to be mastered when she could go out of remission at any time and turn on the only man she had ever known love of the heart with.

If Elijah regretted having given Margaret Riley the choice to gainsay him, he’d never said as much aloud. But then Kerick and Xavier were thoughtful enough not to question him. The memory of Margaret Riley was a sacred one to Elijah, one he’d allow no man to cheapen.

Indeed, when Margaret Riley had been lost to them a final time, it had been Elijah, not Kerick, who had dealt the deathblow to Kieran’s father, the man directly responsible for his mother’s devolution. Kerick had managed to track down and exterminate all of the Hierarchy leaders responsible for Margaret’s demise save Maxim Malifé, Malifé having gone into hiding and thwarted him. By the time Elijah had hunted the sadistic man down and done away with him Kerick had already been captured and imprisoned within Kong for four years. Elijah had joined him not long thereafter.

“You said you had news.” Kerick motioned toward an empty stone table away from the throng of Outlaws. “Get on with it.”

Xavier grinned, taking the cold slab of a seat beside him. “It’s amazing what one can learn at the Pussy Parlours, amigo.”

Kerick grunted but said nothing. It was by now a bit of a running joke amongst Xavier, Elijah, and Kerick that Kerick was the only one of the three of them that hadn’t been inside of a cunt since their escape. Elijah had the wench he’d stolen to release himself into—a wench who bore a strikingly eerie resemblance to a young Margaret Riley—and Xavier had become a connoisseur of droid Pussy Parlours.

But Kerick didn’t want to empty his seed into an emotionless droid. He was saving everything he had, not to mention every bit of stored up anger, pent up jealousy, and prolonged frustration, for Dr. Nellie Kan.

He knew the intensity would be hedonistic for him and frightening for her. But a certain level of fright was needed to successfully master her in a short period of time. It would cause her woman’s heart to appreciate the gentleness he’d show her towards the end of the mastering, cling to it and thereby to him.

“Here’s the bones of it, amigo,” Xavier said in low tones, breaking Kerick from his thoughts. “Two Outlaws claim to have run into a redheaded woman and a droid out in the jungle a few days back.”

Kerick stilled, his jaw clenching. “Run into her?”

Xavier sighed. “They didn’t fuck her if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” He grinned. “Seems the doctor and her droid made short work of them. She knocked them out with makeshift weaponry when they tried to claim her, but apparently she couldn’t bring herself to kill ‘em since they’re alive to talk about their humiliation. Sweet Cyrus, how embarrassing!”

Kerick snorted at that. “I’m surprised they spoke of it with you,” he rumbled out. His eyes twinkled with an odd sense of pride upon hearing of Nellie’s escape.

Xavier’s easy grin faded. “Not willingly they didn’t, amigo.”

Kerick nodded, the silent implication that Xavier had tortured the information out of them not a surprise. It was the way of the Underground, a place where only the strongest survived. In a bleak, desolate world where the majority of men grew old and died without having ever thrust inside of a real woman’s flesh let alone impregnated one, shedding the catacombs of one or two more males was hardly frowned upon. In fact, just the opposite.

“Did they give you coordinates?”

Xavier frowned, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Yes.”

Kerick absently flicked a hand toward him. “So why the frown then?”

“Because the coordinates were near the Crossroads.” He sighed. “If that redhead and her companion truly are Nellie Kan and her droid, they could be anywhere, old friend.”

Kerick agreed, yet he felt his hope rekindle despite the news, felt the familiar adrenaline surging through his veins. The Crossroads was an area within the belly of the earth where seven Underground passages converged, allowing Outlaws to choose from seven disparate routes that all led to far reaching points of the biospheres within this part of Federated Earth.

It was true that Nellie could have taken any of those routes, but it was also true that she was still alive. She had to be, Kerick thought with mingled impatience and possessiveness. Redheads were a rare breed of female. That the two Outlaws had spotted one was a good sign of her survival.

But what was she doing on the Outside? Kerick uneasily asked himself. Surely the wench would have headed back to the Altun Ha biosphere…

The droid was with her, he remembered, his body stilling. She had returned to the biosphere. Which meant someone or something had forced her hand into fleeing from the perimeter of protection.

She knows something. Find her before the Hierarchy does…

Kerick rose from the slab of stone, impatiently shooting up to his feet. He waved off Xavier’s assistance when his friend prepared to stand up. “I hunt alone. You need to remain behind to watch the others.” He turned his head, his gaze narrowing at his sister-in-law. “Keep your eye on that one,” he rumbled out.

Xavier followed his line of vision. “All right. But why?”

Kerick’s answer was slow in coming, thoughtful. “I don’t trust her. She’s going to try to escape or…something.” He didn’t know what, only that his instincts always seemed to be on full alert whenever he was occupying the same chamber as her. “Just watch her,” he muttered.

Xavier nodded. His gaze strayed to where his sister Madra was seated naked on the lap of her eldest husband. He absently watched his sister groan as a second husband sat on his knees before her outspread thighs, lapping at her cunt. The eldest husband rubbed her ripe belly, then massaged her stiff nipples as she shuddered and climaxed.

“Consider her watched,” Xavier promised, his gaze flicking back to Karen. “I won’t let the wench out of my sight.”

Kerick nodded, satisfied. Xavier was always as good as his word. “Tell Elijah where I’ve gone,” he threw out from over his shoulder as he strode away. “When I return, we will resume our planning.”

As he made his way deep into the belly of the earth, Kerick half wondered if one of the reasons he was so desperate to find Nellie was out of the primitive desire to insure that his bloodline carried on when he died. The final battle with the Hierarchy would most likely be the final battle he ever fought in the mortal realm. Getting Nellie ripe with his child before the onslaught would at least allow him to rest in peace, knowing as he would that a fundamental part of him had managed to survive and would flourish.

Nellie might have been biosphere-bred, but she was capable, cunning, and strong. Any child he put in her womb would live to see old age.

Of this Kerick was certain.

Chapter 20

“Happy 14th birthday, Nellie,” Nicoletta Kan murmured. She turned to Nellie’s mother, then gently squeezed her hand. “She’s beautiful and brilliant, Sinead, as are you.”

Sinead Kan smiled proudly, tears that would never fall making her eyes glisten. She squeezed Nicoletta’s hand back. “Promise me you will always care for her. Promise me…”

Nellie’s smile faded as she listened to her mother’s troubled voice. She had tried to forget for a moment—just for a moment—that her mother’s devolution was growing worse, that Sinead would soon be lost to her, and to Nicoletta, for all time.

Nicoletta. Her father’s second wife. It was illegal within Federated Earth for a male to possess more than one wife, yet the Hierarchy always overlooked the law where wealthy, powerful males were concerned. Nellie’s father had proven to be no exception for he owned a grand total of five.

“Of course, bella,” Nicoletta whispered in her throaty Italian accent. Her eyes softened, grew worried. “Do not think upon what has yet to transpire, my friend.”

Nellie drew in a deep breath and shakily expelled it. She was thankful indeed for the friendship Nicoletta had gifted her mother with. She supposed the two women, “rivals” for Master Kan’s affection, should have hated one another. But they didn’t. They adored each other.

Perhaps because Nicoletta hated Master Kan with as much venom as Sinead did.

The Master’s other three wives, all of them shallow and vain wenches, worshipped their husband. But then they were more interested in the elevated status marriage to him had brought them than in concerning themselves over trifles…such as the fact that they were wed to a demon wearing human skin.

“I know,” Sinead answered, trying to hide her pain behind a smile. She forced a chuckle. “I need to quit sounding so morbid and so…” Sweat broke out onto her forehead. She closed her eyes tightly and expelled a raspy breath. Nicoletta instinctively shot up to her feet, her hand reaching for the flash-stick she had made a habit of carrying.

Nellie’s breathing grew labored as she slept. Her head thrashed back and forth, violently ramming against Cyrus 12’s silver breasts. “Oh no, mommy. No, please don’t…”

“Oh God!” Sinead cried out, pain lancing through her. “Help me God!”

Nellie’s piece of birthday cake fell from her plate, forgotten. She paid no attention as the honey-cake plopped onto the floor of the auto-kitchen, the thick sugary frosting sticking to the expensive tiles. She was too busy crying, too busy softly weeping as she watched her mother turn into…a monster.

“Sweet Cyrus!” Sinead screamed as she shot up to her feet. Nellie’s hand flew up to cover her own mouth as she watched blood spurt from the puncture wounds her mother’s jutting fangs caused. “Why would your father leave you here with me?” she cried out in a tortured voice. “He knows what I am!”

He made you what you are, mommy, Nellie thought. She said nothing, just watched as she prayed to Cyrus that her beloved mother might be spared.

“Fight it!” Nicoletta pleaded, even as she grabbed Nellie by the arm and backed up a few steps. “For the love of the ancient saints, Sinead, fight it!”

Sinead screamed, clawing at her face with the dagger-like nails that shot up from her fingers. “I cannot!” she wailed. Her voice turned deep, demon-like. It reverberated throughout the chamber. “For the love of my daughter, Nicoletta, kill me!”

Nellie shook her head back and forth. Oh no—please no!

“Do not do this to me!” Nicoletta screeched. “Fight it, Sinead! Fight it!”

But there was no more battle to be fought, Nellie realized on a sob, as she watched her beloved mother turn on the woman who had been Sinead’s best friend.

Sinead picked Nicoletta up off of the ground like a doll, her hand wrapped around the other woman’s throat. Nicoletta’s face swelled up and turned purple, her throat issuing hellish gurgling sounds as she was slowly strangled to death. The flash-stick dropped from her hand, clanging on the hand-painted tiles…

Nellie’s gaze darted toward the weapon.

“I told you,” Sinead said to Nicoletta in the darkest, deepest voice Nellie had ever heard, “to kill me.” Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile, her unblinking eyes glowed a blood-stained crimson. “But now I’m hungry.”

Her breathing labored, her young breasts heaving up and down, Nellie watched in horror as her mother’s mouth slowly opened, revealing two rows of serrated teeth. Oh no. Sweet Cyrus, please—

Nicoletta’s brown eyes widened in terror as the suffocating woman watched her best friend reel her into the awaiting mouth. She tried to scream, Nellie could tell, tried to call out for help, but she was being strangled…

Nellie scrambled to the floor. She reached for the flash-stick.

Sinead pulled Nicoletta closer. And closer…

Nellie’s heart rate shot up. Perspiration dotted her brow.

“Mommy, no!” Nellie called out in anguish as she jumped up from the tile floor and pointed the flash-stick at Sinead. “Let her go! For the love of the woman you once were, I beg you not to make me do this!”

But it was like bargaining with an animal—a predator whose instincts were telling them that they needed to feed.

Or a demon being demanded by its master to kill.

The gurgling sounds Nicoletta made grew raspier, more tortured. Sinead’s mouth opened wider, her claws digging into Nicoletta’s neck and puncturing the skin…

“Noooo!” Nellie screamed as she raised the trembling hand holding the flash-stick. “Noooo!”

Nicoletta fell to the floor like a broken doll, forgotten. Sinead turned on Nellie, her mouth twisting into a lunatic’s smile, a low hissing sound issuing from the depths of her throat. There was no Sinead left. There was only a monster.

“Forgive me, mommy,” Nellie murmured, a single tear tracking down her cheek. She aimed the flash-stick directly at Sinead’s heart. “I will love you forever.”

Closing her eyes, unable to watch as she murdered her own mother, Nellie detonated the weapon. A beam of energy pulsed out from the flash-stick, killing Sinead Kan instantaneously, charring her flesh until it fell from the bone.

Nellie stood there, in shock, for what felt like an hour. She couldn’t seem to move, couldn’t seem to speak, couldn’t even cry.

A murderer. She was a murderer.

Her beloved mother was dead.

“She loves you,” a soft, raspy voice whispered as a gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Sinead will always love you, bella Nellie.”

The tears came all at once, making Nellie gasp for breath. “Nicoletta,” she sobbed as she turned into the other woman’s embrace. “Oh Nicoletta…”

Nellie cried out as she shot up into a sitting position, waking up in a cold sweat. Her breathing was labored, perspiration dotted her brow.

Her mother was dead. She’d killed her own mother…

Her nostrils flared in anger. In hatred. You are the murderer, father. Not me. How could you do that to your own wife? To your own daughter?

Nellie fell back onto the animal furs, breathing deeply to steady herself. She gazed up into the night sky, unblinking.

She would end it. She had always known it was her destiny to end it.

“Let’s resume trekking,” Nellie murmured to Cyrus 12. She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “We must chance venturing into the Underground again,” she whispered. “We must find the Xibalba.”

Chapter 21

January 22, 2250 A.D.

The Crossroads

Kerick followed the tracks of two sets of foot impressions—one left behind by what had to be a droid, the other left behind by what was no doubt, at least in his mind, a human wench.

The foot impressions could belong to none other than Nellie and her machine companion, he told himself, his sharp gray eyes flicking about the cavern. Underground dwellers could not afford to own a droid. And even if they could afford to, they had no legal means for purchasing one.

Kerick came to a halt when he reached the large Underground portal of the Crossroads. Outsiders carrying torches trekked by foot all around him, some of them accompanied by a communal wife, but most of them traveling alone.

His gaze flicked about, considering the seven different routes she could have taken. Tracking foot impressions would be impossible from this juncture forward, he realized, for too many travelers were even now leaving behind their own marks, unwittingly covering up the tracks Nellie Kan and her droid had left behind.

If I were a wench traveling by foot without a Master, which way would I go?

His eyes narrowed in concentration as he considered the options. Cavern 1 led to the north-east, Cavern 2 to…

His body stilled. Adrenaline coursed through his blood. There could be but one path.

The path less traveled by…

Kerick walked slowly toward Cavern 7, the route that led into the deepest part of the Earth’s belly. He stopped when he reached it, his eyes flicking over a stone sign with Spanish writing carved into it.

AVISO: ZONA PELIGROSA. WARNING: HAZARDOUS ZONE.

Squatting down on his thighs and using his torch to shed light on the dirt ground, Kerick’s steel gray eyes methodically studied the packed mud of the cavern’s floor. His gaze narrowed in concentration as he searched for clues that would tell him whether or not Nellie had traveled down this route—foot impressions, fibers from body décor—anything would give him the answer he sought.

“I’m going to find you, Nellie Kan,” Kerick murmured, his eyes scanning the ground with the efficiency and detail of a hawk’s. “One way or another you will be—”

His words came to an abrupt halt when the light from the torch hit upon…something. He reached toward the object, carefully picking it up between his thumb and forefinger.

Hair, he thought, his body stilling. He had found three strands of dark red hair.

Kerick’s jaw clenched in resolve. He had been led a merry chase, but the hour of Nellie’s mastering was within his grasp once again.

His gaze flicked down the long, wide corridor of Cavern 7. “One way or another, you will be mine,” he murmured.

* * * * *

“Cyrus 12?” Nellie whispered. She swallowed roughly as her eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness. The torch had gone out at least fifteen minutes ago, the light from the wick having been snuffed out during the small avalanche she’d managed to survive. Now she understood why Cavern 7 was considered a hazardous zone. She just prayed to Cyrus that her droid had managed to survive the impact, for it had been her droid who had shielded her from the falling rocks.

Nellie bit her lip. She would never forgive herself if Cyrus 12 had been crushed beyond repair. The droid was a machine, true, but she was also the scientist’s faithful companion. “Cyrus 12?” she asked again, her voice a bit shaky.

She knew that they had fallen into some manner of antechamber, but hadn’t a yen as to what it was or where it could possibly lead to. If only she could find a way to ignite another torch—

Nellie’s heart all but stopped when three men bearing torches entered the antechamber. The trio looked to be brothers, for all of them were possessed of the same blonde hair, lanky build, and scratchy body décor. She tried to shield herself, tried to duck behind a boulder before they saw her, but she didn’t move quickly enough. They came to an abrupt halt the minute they spotted her, their faces shocked. And then their expressions changed…

Her cat-like green eyes widened in alarm, recognizing those expressions for what they were.

Lust. Gluttony. Malicious intent.

She swallowed again, her heart rate soaring. Without Cyrus 12’s protection, Nellie realized she would never escape this antechamber without being raped.

Or worse yet, raped and claimed.

“Well lookie at what we got here, amigos,” the tallest one said on a chuckle. His grin widened, showcasing his rotted teeth. “And here I thought we was just gonna find us some more flint today. Looks like we’re gettin’ us a cunt instead.”

Nellie gulped. Her gaze darted nervously about the dimly lit antechamber as she tried to find a method for escape. And a weapon to defend herself with.

“Sweet Cyrus, but ain’t she pretty!” the youngest one said excitedly. “We’re gonna have us the hottest pussy in the Underground!”

“Not so fast,” the third man said warningly. He was shorter than the other two, but the gruffest looking of the bunch. This was obviously the trio’s leader. “We gotta get her pregnant before we take her back to the tribe, otherwise everybody will wanna poke her. Nester,” he said conversationally, as if Nellie wasn’t standing there listening to all this, “go build us a fire. We’re gonna be here a while. Zeb, you help me corner the wench.”

Nellie closed her eyes briefly, steeling herself. The thought of being mounted and continuously impaled by these three disgusting males was enough to induce vomiting. She had to find a way out! she thought hysterically. Sweet Cyrus, please…

“Come here, little wench,” the tallest one said quietly, holding out his hand to her. He made kissing sounds with his lips, as if calling to a dog.

Her nostrils flared at the insult. Obviously he’d never been around many females. She scurried back, yelping when she accidentally hit her head on a boulder behind her.

Now she did sound like a dog, she thought grimly.

“Look at them big breasts,” the tallest one—Zeb—said in awe. “Holy kong, she must be biosphere bred.”

Nellie’s heart rate picked up, thumping against her chest. She took off, madly dashing away as fast as her feet could carry her. “Help me! Somebody help me!” she cried out as she ran between boulders.

She was tackled a few seconds later, inducing her to scream. Two sets of meaty hands dragged her to the ground, simultaneously covering her mouth. She gasped when her stomach hit the rough earthen floor, the wind knocked out of her on impact.

By the time she could breathe again, it was too late. Nellie closed her eyes and softly cried while the two men tore at her tattered body décor.

Chapter 22

It had taken the trio of Outlaws less than a minute to discard her body décor. It had taken them less than five additional minutes to gag her and then subdue her flailing body.

Staked out spread-eagle on the ground, her arms pinioned above her head and her ankles tied to her thighs and bolted to the ground so she couldn’t straighten out her legs, Nellie could only lie there and watch as the two males stared at her exposed cunt.

She flinched when one of the males grabbed his own erection and squeezed it, his meaty hand pressing against the rough wool of his trouser-like body décor. She tried to scream, but the gag made it impossible.

“Where the kong is Nester?” Zeb asked, his voice incredulous. “I’m gonna fuck her without him if he don’t hurry.”

The leader of the brothers looked around the antechamber and sighed. “Don’t know. I’ll go find him.” He turned to Zeb and, in a lightning-fast motion, wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in close. “If you fuck her before I do, I’ll kill you. Y’hear me, boy?”

Zeb nodded between gurgling sounds. The leader released him. “I’ll be right back.”

Nellie closed her eyes briefly, thankful for the small reprieve. She tried to calm down, for she knew her labored breathing was causing her large breasts to heave up and down, which was only serving to snag Zeb’s undivided attention. Attention she most certainly didn’t want.

The brothers were truly the ugliest males she’d ever laid eyes on. But it was more than the ugliness, more even than the rotted teeth and oniony breath, that had all of her senses on full alert. It was that bizarre gleam that haunted their eyes…

They had been infected, she knew. The disease was only in the beginning stages, but there was no guessing how long it would take before they turned. She could only hope that she managed to escape them before it happened.

Otherwise, today’s rape victim would be tomorrow’s dinner. And then there would be no serum. She chilled at both thoughts.

Ten minutes later, Zeb was pacing the antechamber floor, clearly torn between following orders by waiting on his eldest brother to return, and using Nellie before the brother did make his reappearance. He was growing more and more anxious and agitated as each second ticked by, a state of chaos that was making Nellie more nervous as well.

It was getting chilly inside of the antechamber, inducing Nellie’s nipples to harden. She could feel cold air hitting her pussy, which was quickly making her all the colder. She wanted to ask for an animal fur, but the gag prevented her from doing so. She couldn’t even motion with her hands or legs that she needed to ask a question because she had been well secured to the dirt ground.

Finally, Zeb stopped his pacing. He turned his head toward Nellie, his hands on his hips. “I’m gonna go find my brothers. Don’t even think about gettin’ away, wench. Horan would kill you. He ain’t right in the head sometimes.”

Which meant the eldest brother’s devolution was growing more acute than the others’.

“I’ll be right back.” Zeb reached down and pinched her nipples, making her flinch. “Then I’m gonna suck on these babies all night.” With that he stood up and stalked from the antechamber.

Nellie laid there, cold and shivering, for what felt like hours. Perversely, her mind often wandered back to her first captor, a grim reminder that if she had to be held against her will by a male, at least she would have been detained by an attractive one not showing signs of devolution had she not fled from him.

But that didn’t matter. And, she reminded herself, she wanted to be captured by no man. What she wanted was to escape.

Think, Nellie! Think!

Nellie began to systematically check the binds for weaknesses. She struggled against the hemp ropes, hoping to tatter them against the nails the brothers had used to stake the bindings into the ground.

But by Kalast, it was no use. The harder she struggled, the tighter the binds became.

She cried quietly from behind the gag, praying for help.

Just then she saw the shadow of a large male appear against the far wall of the antechamber. He was carrying a torch—

Nellie blinked. He was carrying a torch and he was…hooded.

Sweet Cyrus. Could that be—

No. No, it wasn’t possible.

Nellie’s cat-like green eyes widened as she watched the male slowly walk towards her. It felt like it took forever before he finally came to a standstill before her splayed out body, but when he did, he at last lowered the black hood…

Kerick.

Nellie gulped from behind the gag as she watched those intense, familiar eyes trail up and down her naked body. He looked at her with lust, with need—with anger.

“I told you once that you could never escape me, Nellie Kan.” His words were rumbled out in that dark, forbidding voice of his. The voice that said she had reached the end of the line and that she would belong to him until the day she died.

That explained what had become of the brothers. He had picked them off one by one, systematically hunting them down like prey. That way there had been no screams.

She swallowed nervously.

Kerick’s steel gray eyes flicked up from her cunt to her face. His jaw was clenched, his muscles visibly corded. “One thing I am not, wench, is a liar.”

Chapter 23

Nellie screamed from behind the gag, her body thrashing madly against the binds to no avail. Kerick made no move to stop her, just stood over her like a grim guardian and stoically watched as she wore herself out. He had removed his cloak several minutes ago, and now wore nothing save the black woolen pants that were molded to his muscled lower body like a second skin.

By the time she calmed down and quit fighting, she was exhausted. The fact that she was having difficulty breathing was visible by the dramatic heaving of her breasts. Kerick came down on one thigh beside her, a callused palm running over her belly. “I’m removing the gag that you might catch your breath,” he murmured. “I’d advise you not to scream.” One eyebrow rose slightly. “Unless you desire to watch me kill any male who might enter this antechamber.”

Her body stilled. She hesitated, then shook her head no.

“Good girl.”

His muscled arms reached up, the roped veins there bulging as he worked at the knot behind her neck. The familiar scent of him reached her nostrils—a clean but masculine aroma that was both oddly comforting and understandably frightening.

Comforting because it was familiar. Frightening because she had no idea how roughly he would handle her.

Given the circumstances, given the fact that to him she was but an escaped piece of sexual chattel he’d managed to recapture, she expected that his anger was bound to manifest itself and that a great deal of pain would be forthcoming. Masters in general were not known for their kindness. The reputation of Underworld Masters didn’t even bear dwelling upon.

Would he beat her? Nellie nervously wondered as the gag came off and she was able to suck in a deep breath of air. Would he use her roughly, then pass her around to others to do the same with?

She closed her eyes briefly to steady herself, her thoughts tracking back to her sire and some of the severe punishments he had handed out to each of his five wives over the years. At some point or another he had beaten them all within an inch of their lives—some were whipped, some caned. He’d even infected one…her mother.

Kerick placed one large palm on her belly, breaking her from her thoughts. She sucked in her breath when his fingers began to lazily trail downward, knowing as she did what he meant to touch.

Nellie took a deep breath and blew it out. Her gaze was fixated on her captor’s throat, for she wasn’t feeling quite bold enough to look him in the eye just yet. “I suppose you mean to punish me,” she whispered a bit shakily. It wasn’t like her to show a weakness, but there it was. She was tired and cold and—

“Of course,” he rumbled out. “Whether or not you earn further punishments is entirely up to you, little one.”

Little one. Nellie blinked and looked away, hating how secure she felt by his patronizing words. She was hardly a little girl anymore, yet the words conjured up an imagery of a naïve young lass being guarded by her strong, invincible protector.

Kerick’s callused fingers ran through the thatch of dark red curls at the juncture of her thighs. Softly. Soothingly. Over and over. Again and again. It felt so relaxing that she almost—almost—drifted off into slumber.

His fingers trailed down further, inducing Nellie’s muscles to clench, her mind again worried that he would handle her roughly. His callused thumb settled against her clit a moment later, making her gasp. He worked his thumb in slow, methodic circles, arousing her within mere moments.

Nellie’s breasts began to heave up and down in a slow, sensuous gyration. Her rouge nipples stabbed upward, achingly swollen.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, his intense eyes raking over her exposed cunt and nipples. “Let go for Master, Nellie.” He applied more pressure to her clit with his thumb, simultaneously speeding up the circles he was making on it.

Nellie gasped, her eyes closing on a soft moan. She was irrevocably lost in a whirlwind of arousal a moment later—too turned on to be frightened about what punishments might await her, too turned on to care about the precarious position she was in, spread-eagle and splayed out before him.

“Let go for Me, Nellie,” Kerick rumbled out again, his voice dark and coaxing. He rubbed her clit faster, his saturated thumb running easily over the slippery piece of flesh. “Let go for Master.”

With her hands tied together and staked to the ground above her, and with her thighs and ankles tied together and staked out at either side of her body, fighting her captor wasn’t an option. But then judging by the way she felt now, she doubted she would have fought him even if she hadn’t been.

Nellie gasped, her back arching and her breasts thrusting up on a groan. “Please,” she whispered. “Faster.”

He complied, his thumb working faster and faster still. She moaned low in her throat, her eyes squeezing tightly shut as her body prepared to orgasm. She could feel the climax coming on quickly and knew it would be violent. Faster and faster his thumb rubbed. Faster and firmer and—

Kerick removed his thumb, allowing her no release.

Nellie’s eyes flew open. She whimpered. “What the kong are you doing?”

His steel gray eyes clashed with her wide green ones. “You will not come,” he murmured, “until Master is pleased with His wench.”

She gulped as she watched him stand up and shed the remainder of his body décor, wondering how long he meant to torture her this way. She was to find out all too soon.

Over the course of the next hour, Nellie was turned into a writhing, gasping, moaning, groaning, begging, pleading, wanton woman. Kerick kissed her everywhere, sucked on everything, teased her with the promise of being impaled, but allowed her to feel no more than the head of his manhood before pulling back.

She didn’t know how he could stand it, for she could see the clenching movement his jaw made every time he withdrew, could see too how corded and tense all of his muscles were.

He was like a machine. A gigantic machine with the mental and physical resolve of a droid.

She was going to go mad.

“Please,” Nellie groaned for what felt like the thousandth time. She moaned as she watched him palm her breasts as best as he could, then swirl his tongue around her aching, jutting nipples. His hard, naked body was settled atop hers and she could feel his thick erection poking against her belly. “Please,” she begged louder.

But he paid her no attention. He popped a rouge nipple into his mouth and suckled hard from it, making her moan. He sucked on it until it was so ruby-red and swollen that it was painful. Then he switched to the other one, his mouth latching onto it and suckling while his hips gyrated back and forth in slow, methodic circles, teasing her with what could be but wasn’t quite hers.

“I’m going mad,” she dramatically declared, her voice a pathetic sob. Her head began to thrash from side to side, her moans tortured. “Please!” she groaned, unable to take it anymore. She took her pleading a step further, begging him for what it was she wanted in more precise terms. “Please fuck me!”

The torture grew worse. He unlatched his mouth from her nipple, releasing it with a popping sound. Kerick then ran kisses all the way down her body, his tongue darting around her labial folds to lazily lap at them while his hands gently kneaded her breasts and plucked at her nipples.

“Sweet Cyrus, please!” Nellie sobbed, pathetically close to crying. Her head resumed its thrashing, the jarring action growing more and more violent, more and more desperate. “Please fuck me! I beg you to fuck me!”

Nothing.

“Please!” she screamed, her voice frantic as her head thrashed harder and harder. “Master please fuck me!”

Kerick impaled her pussy, driving his cock in to the hilt.

Nellie cried out, coming violently and instantaneously. “Yes! Yes! Oh yes!” She knew she sounded pathetic, but no longer cared. She groaned long and loud, gluttonously loving every moment of her release.

Only when it was over and the tremors of climax began to wane a bit, did she realize that although Kerick’s cock was buried deep in her flesh, he was purposely keeping his body still, granting her no friction in order to come again. And she did want to come again—sweet Kalast but she felt like she had ten gallons of juice stored up for him.

Her breathing was labored, inducing her breasts to heave up and down beneath his palms. She softly moaned at the feeling of having them kneaded so expertly by his large, callused hands. She glanced up at him, noting the steel resolve of his clenched jaw, the tenseness of his well-honed muscles, the seriousness of his intense, forbidding expression…

He wasn’t going to give her more, she knew. Not unless she gave him what he wanted in return. But what could he possibly want from—

Nellie’s breathing stilled. Her eyes widened as she remembered the magic word that had gotten her impaled.

Kerick had finally buried his cock in her pussy when she’d called him…

Master.

She swallowed roughly, realizing as she did that she would get no more release without showing him more obedience. She groaned, any resistance she might have put up quickly thwarted by the callused hands kneading her breasts, the palms running over her aching nipples, the motionless but pulsating cock she could feel buried deep inside of her, teasing her with what could be…

“Master, please.” Nellie took a deep breath and expelled it. “I—I’m sorry I ran from You. I’ll be a good girl. I—I promise.”

Kerick rewarded her words, his hips gyrating slowly back and forth. He moved in and out of her flesh in long, leisurely strokes—enough to make her moan, yet not fast enough to produce the friction necessary for orgasm.

“Please, Master,” she begged, frustrated by her lack of ability to throw her hips back at him. “Please fuck me hard.”

His hips moved a bit faster, yet still not fast enough. She didn’t know whether to grit her teeth or sob like a martyr. Or both.

“My body is Your vessel.” She gasped when he gave her one hard stroke, rewarding her continued compliance. “My cunt and nipples belong to You and only You—oh yes.” She groaned when he gave her one more hard bang, simultaneously realizing that she knew she’d never have to worry about him passing her around to others to share of. He was far too possessive.

“I will obey You always and never run from You again—oh yes! Oh yes!” Nellie moaned when he gave her three hard, deep strokes in rapid succession. She reveled in the grunting sound he made, understanding the sound meant that he too was near the end of his limits. Assuming, of course, that he had any.

Sweet Cyrus, but she was taking no chances, she thought hysterically.

“I accept the nipple chains without proof of Your ability to breed me—Please! Oh yes! Oh—more!—I accept the brand of your line without You having paid yen unto my sire…” She gasped when he gave her five hard, fast stokes, her head falling helplessly back onto the dirt ground. “I will never touch, submit to, desire, or think of another male…”

Kerick fucked her hard, plunging his cock into her flesh in fast, deep strokes. She cried out at the hedonistic friction, coming violently and instantaneously—again.

“My good and obedient wench.” He ground out the praise, his muscles flexed and jaw clenched as he rode her body ruthlessly. He pounded into her long and hard, fucking her in the way they both wanted it, needed it. “Come for Master again, Nellie.”

She did—over and over, again and again. Unable to move, unable to do anything besides lie there and take the gluttonous fucking he was giving her, she moaned loudly, her head thrashing from side to side as he impaled her cunt time and time again. “Yes!” she cried out. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

He mounted her impossibly harder, groaning as he repeatedly buried his thick cock in her flesh. She could hear the suctioning sound her pussy made on each of his upstrokes, could feel how hard her nipples were jutting up to stab against his chest.

Nellie gasped when she came again, having never known a woman could orgasm so fiercely and so many times in one session. She threw her head back and moaned, greedily loving it when he fucker her harder and harder and—

Kerick’s muscles tensed from above her, the roped veins of his musculature prominent. “I’m coming,” he growled as he mercilessly fucked her. “I’m coming.”

He closed his eyes and groaned long and loud as his body convulsed atop hers. His teeth were clenched and his muscles corded as he spurted hot cum deep into her cunt. “My pussy,” he growled, plunging in and out of her flesh until he’d drained every last drop from his sac. “All Mine.”

It was long minutes later before Kerick finally pulled out of Nellie’s body. Even more time went by before he cut away her binds, allowing her body to move about for the first time in hours. It gave Nellie time to think about all of the vows she had made while in the throes of uncontrollable lust—vows she knew she would be expected to keep.

She swallowed nervously as she watched him place first one gold hoop, and then another, around her stiff nipples. A delicate but strong gold chain threaded with rubies was next laced from one nipple ring to the other, the chain dangling down a bit so as not to be in the way of his mouth when he desired to suckle of them.

Nellie glanced up at him curiously, surprised that an Outlaw could come up with the yen to buy such an expensive piece of matrimonial body décor. Kerick didn’t satiate her curiosity with an answer, of course. He leaned his grim face into her breasts instead and placed a soft kiss on either nipple. “Mine,” he murmured. “All mine.”

The branding came next, an electro-tattoo that was impossible to remove with any manner of technology. But then brandings had been created with the purpose of never being able to get rid of them, for males weren’t likely to steal away a female whose body was permanently marked by another Master’s brand.

On her hands and knees before him, her buttocks raised high into the air, Nellie offered Kerick no resistance as the electro-tattoo was carved into her right buttock. It didn’t hurt, not really. She could feel a slight pinching sensation, a bit of pressure perhaps, but nothing more than that.

She found herself wondering what the carving looked like, but knew she wouldn’t have the answer until she happened upon an image-map. All that she could be certain of was that his first and last name were permanently engraved on her right buttock…

Her curiosity grew. She didn’t even know his last name, she thought, that realization occurring to her for the first time.

Kerick ran a possessive palm over the electro-tattoo, his hand coming to a rest on the side of it. “Mine,” he murmured as his lips came down and kissed the branding. “All mine.”

Chapter 24

The two female scientists emerged from the shadows, crawling out from behind the scattered boulders after the new Master steered his wife from the antechamber. A pair of intense gray eyes watched Kerick’s retreat, mourning from the loss of not being able to call out to him.

They had been so close—Dr. Kan had almost been within their grasp. But then Kerick had come in before they had been able to reach her and now Nellie Kan belonged to him, to Kerick, irrevocably.

Kerick.

The scientists located the crushed body of the droid and, after ascertaining that she was salvageable, hitched her up to an electro-cart to be taken back to the Underground lab.

“Should we follow them so we know where she’s been taken to?” Dr. Patricia Haley asked in her native Spanish tongue. “Dr. Kan still has the journal, I’m certain. My readings gage that it’s contained within a vacuum-sealed container in the satchel she still carries.” She sighed. “If Dr. Kan won’t be joining the Xibalba, then we need that journal back.”

The intense gray eyes flicked towards her. “We need Nellie’s help, my friend. The journal is not enough. If it were then we would have developed a serum long ago.”

Dr. Haley arched a shapely black eyebrow. “I saw the way he looked at her. That male will never let her escape him.”

“No. He won’t.”

“Then—”

“But he’ll still bring her to us. When she tells him what she knows, his curiosity, if nothing else, will bring him back to Cavern 7.”

Dr. Haley blinked at that. “This is a male we are speaking of, my friend. They are not a species well known for their cunning intellect. Or their compassion.”

“That male is different,” she murmured.

Dr. Haley snorted at that. “How so?” she asked dryly, her arms crossing under her breasts.

The intense gray eyes flicked toward the other female scientist. “Did I tell you his name?” she whispered.

Dr. Haley hesitated, her curiosity piqued. She shook her head.

“Kerick.” The gray eyes closed, as if savoring the name on her lips. “Kerick Riley.”

“Sweet Cyrus.” Patricia Haley clapped a hand over her own mouth, her shock evident.

“He’ll come back,” the other scientist murmured, her usually stoic eyes showing a bit of vulnerability. “I know he’ll come back.”

Chapter 25

January 23, 2250 A.D.

The trek back to the catacombs felt as though it was taking forever. Kerick hadn’t wanted to gamble with Nellie’s life by stopping to fuck her en route, and so it was taking every last bit of resolve he had to not give in to his more primal urges and mount her every way imaginable.

But good Cyrus, it had been fifteen years since he’d plunged into a wench—fifteen years. And the wench he could now plunge into at whim was Nellie Kan…Nellie Kan Riley.

He owned her, he thought possessively. She would never spread her thighs for any male but him.

Sinking into Nellie’s pussy back in Cavern 7 had felt as exquisite as Kerick had known it would. She had been tight and wet and greedy—

And he wanted more.

And more. And more. And more.

He wanted to suck on her stiff nipples—nipples that were now adorned with his rings. He wanted to lap at her puffy cunt, then turn her over and fuck her hard from behind, the proof of his permanent ownership visible on her buttocks as he repeatedly sank into her.

He wanted to do a lot of things, he thought, his manhood growing swollen. Yet at the same time he knew it was necessary to never let himself forget that he needed to maintain a rigid control where she was concerned—at least until she’d been totally mastered by him.

First things first, he needed to get her into the security of the catacombs. Once there he would isolate her from all other humans but himself, allowing her no contact with anyone until he was certain he had her unequivocal trust and devotion.

Both ingredients were necessary. Both ingredients would insure her survival. He could then get her to talk about what she knew in regards to the Hierarchy.

“Are we almost there?” Nellie asked quietly. She cleared her throat. “I’m very tired,” she whispered.

He believed her. She sounded more than a wee bit drained.

His steel-gray eyes flicked down, scanning her naked body. She wore no body décor but the nipple chains, a fact that he and his cock couldn’t help but to notice and appreciate. “Soon, Nellie. Perhaps another half-hour at best.”

She nodded, but said nothing.

Kerick ran a possessive palm over her backside, his hand settling on the branding. “How does it feel?” he asked with genuine concern, though Nellie probably didn’t yet know him well enough to recognize the barely perceptible difference in his tones. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head, but again she said nothing.

His eyebrow rose. Ah. The silent treatment. So that was how it was to be.

She was a stubborn wench, Kerick realized, but then that was one of the many reasons he had been so attracted to her from the beginning.

His callused hand squeezed her buttock, the subtle reminder of who owned her clear. “I will let it go this time,” he said softly, “but in the future when I ask a question with words I expect an answer that also contains words.”

He saw her jaw clench and wanted to sigh at the telling reaction. But he didn’t, of course, for he had known from the beginning that Nellie would not be mastered so easily.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have given a yen, for he would have let the mastering progress at its natural pace. But there was no time for that now. Her life, whether or not she yet realized it, depended upon his strength.

And on his ability to get her to talk.

* * * * *

And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea…and they worshipped the beast, saying, Who is like unto the beast? Who is able to make war with him?

And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads: And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark…

Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast for it is the number of a man; and his number is six hundred, threescore, and six.

Nellie’s eyes flicked up from Margaret Riley’s journal to the stone and thatched door she was hoping Kerick wouldn’t be walking through for a while. He had said he would return in a couple of hours with food, which should give her enough time to study the diary—an activity she hadn’t been fortunate enough to do while trekking through the jungle with Cyrus 12.

And Jesus said unto him, Come out of the man, thou unclean spirit.

And he asked him, What is thy name? And the demon answered, saying, My name is Legion, for we are many…

“My name is Legion,” she murmured. “For we are many.” Her eyes darted from the passage Margaret Riley had scrawled out from the Book of Mark back to the original passage copied from the Book of Revelation.

And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea…and they worshipped the beast, saying, Who is like unto the beast? Who is able to make war with him?

“Who is able to make war with him…?” Nellie bit her lip as she considered which of the many Hierarchy leaders that description fit. The problem, insofar as she could see it, was that the description fit at least five men of Federated Earth.

1.                 Kalif Henders—the owner of Fathom Systems and her former boss, Vorice Henders, brother. His estimated personal holdings, she recalled from a virtual program she’d seen on him, were in excess of 2.7 trillion yen. Although he had never been appointed the High Chancellor of any particular biosphere, it was implicitly understood by all and sundry that he owned the United Americas of Earth.

2.                 Creagh O’Malley—a Dublin biosphere born multi-billionaire who was the High Chancellor of the United Republic of Europe. O’Malley and Henders were thought to have strong ties to the other, but rarely were the two ever seen together in public.

3.                 Maxim Malifé—No. Scratch him off. He’s dead, Nellie thought.

4.                 Tozeki LeJuene—born in the African Congo biosphere, he was High Chancellor of the United African States, and was reportedly the man Henders was most dependent upon for the import of Erodium from planet Kalast—Erodium being necessary to manufacture the yen chips hosted in humanoid brains for buying and selling purposes.

5.                 Abdul Kan—my sire, she thought with a heavy heart. Master Kan, a citizen of the United Americas of Earth, had been born and bred in the Arabian biospheres. His personal assets were near the range of 1.3 trillion yen and he held a close connection to Creagh O’Malley, the two having roomed together at virtual university years back. Master Kan was the owner of Kan Technology, a conglomerate organization that provided Fathom Systems with, among other things, the necessary human guinea pigs to test yen chips and other technology on. The guinea pigs were often taken from correctional sectors, or bought from poor families with too many sons.

Nellie ran a punishing hand through her hair, feeling, for the millionth time, indirectly responsible for the torture and death of so many males. She knew she couldn’t have said anything that would have stopped her father from selling slaves to Fathom Systems, of course, but she could have gone public with what she knew about the illegal activity and stopped it that way.

She took a deep breath and blew it out. So many valuable years and so many valuable lives had been wasted. And all because she had once believed, naïve as it sounded, that her father would change and see the error of his ways with a wee bit of coaxing.

Stupid. She had been more foolish than she felt comfortable admitting.

Nellie closed Margaret Riley’s journal and vacuum-sealed it away. That accomplished, she secreted it away within the hidden chamber of her satchel and placed the satchel where it had been before Kerick had taken his leave.

She glanced around the chamber that was her new home—at least for the time being, making certain that all was as it should be. Yes, she thought, everything looked right.

The underground earthen and stone room, though smallish, was comfortable enough. Lit torches sat in sconces, providing light. Animal furs were strewn all over the chamber, providing warmth. A crude non-automated kitchen sat to one side of the chamber, a rudimentary entertainment area to the other, and the bedchamber at the far corner. Her gaze next fell to the large, and rather decadent, pillow-bed.

She had been surprised upon seeing it, for she was fairly certain that there hadn’t been such a lush looking bed here when she’d escaped. Which meant that Kerick had acquired it just for her—which also meant that he had spent time thinking about how to make her more comfortable here while they had been separated.

She didn’t know what to make of that fact. She didn’t know how to feel about that fact.

Kerick was an enigma to her. She was wed to him—wed for Cyrus sake!—yet she didn’t even know what his last name was. (Or what her last name now was for that matter.) He was grim and brooding, yet also gentle and protective—she knew he would protect her with his life.

And he was now her husband—her Master. Which meant he would expect her to carry on as his wife. He would expect her to be docile and submissive, to regard his word as law and truth, and to cater to his every desire and whim.

Or at least that’s what she’d been taught at the elite deportment school she had attended all those years ago. For two solid years she had been trained in the art of being a proper wench and wife—trained against her will, of course—so she knew all there was to know about pleasing a Master.

Theoretically speaking, anyway. She had no practical knowledge for she’d never actually been mastered by a male. She’d had obligatory sex with Dr. Lorin, of course, but that was far different from being mastered.

Nellie sighed, rubbing her temples. Did she want to please Kerick? Could she trust him enough to open up to him and ask for his assistance that she might create the serum, or should she carry through with the first plan she had concocted, which consisted of trying to find yet another way to escape him?

She chilled at the thought of how displeased he would be if she tried to run from him again. So far he had dealt with her in an unexpectedly gentle fashion, given that he was a male at any rate, and she had no desire to mess that up.

Nellie knew that one thing was for certain: even if she did manage to escape Kerick again, he’d find a way to hunt her down and bring her back to the catacombs. Only the next time…

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. She knew he wouldn’t be so gentle with her if there was a next time.

Nellie plopped down onto the pillow-bed with a sigh, the sensory chains she once again wore making a jingling sound. She had two choices, she knew. She could run and break his trust or she could stay and try to gain it.

If she ran from him, she would be facing not only his wrath but also the possibility of dying out in the jungle. But if she stayed then she could theoretically be wasting a lot of time because, if after trying to gain his confidence he decided not to help her so she could finish the serum, she’d have to make a run for it anyway.

Nellie bit her lip, weighing the options. Running would be very difficult, especially since the cavern she had found the zida stones in had been sealed off. That meant that the only other true choice was to stay—and hopefully win him over.

Her gaze flicked down to the pillow-bed she was sitting on, her thoughts backtracking to the years she’d spent in deportment school. She knew Kerick would want some pussy when he returned…

Nellie took a deep breath and expelled it, her mind made up. She would stay. She would prove herself to be loyal and obedient in order to gain his trust. And somehow, some way, she would get his help.

Chapter 26

Kerick entered the chamber, his expression remote and grim. He threw a satchel into the corner, then turned to look at her. His steel-gray eyes were as harsh and intense as ever, perhaps more so. Nellie bit her lip as she regarded him, wondering what he was thinking.

“Nellie, stand up.”

The command was barked out, his voice broaching no argument. She immediately complied, determined to gain his confidence. She shot up to her feet from the pillow-bed, then stood there before it as he’d ordered her to do.

Kerick blinked. He looked…confused by her quick compliance. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for that. Cyrus knows she was hardly the docile, biddable type.

His eyes raked over her nude body, hovering at her nipple chains then on downward to the thatch of dark red curls at the apex of her thighs. She cleared her throat and glanced away, uncomfortable with the knowledge that her body had reacted to his stare. “When the Master enters the chamber,” he began, his eyes flicking up to her face, “it is the duty of—”

“Oh yes, I forgot,” Nellie interrupted. Deportment school had been a long time ago after all. “I apologize.”

He blinked again.

Nellie turned on her heel and climbed into the pillow-bed. Her back to him, she got on her hands and knees, pressed her face in close to the bedding, and raised her buttocks high into the air. She even wiggled her butt invitingly, having remembered that small bit of advice doled out by the drill instructor.

Apparently it worked. His next words were spoken thickly.

“Yes—well…that’s good.” She could hear his footfalls growing closer, so she wasn’t surprised when she heard him come to a halt behind her. His callused palms began kneading her lightly tanned buttocks, making her wet.

One of his hands left her buttocks and began stroking her pussy from behind. She moaned, throwing him another inviting butt wiggle.

She heard him sigh as if exasperated, which both confused and embarrassed her. Perhaps she hadn’t done this correctly after all, she thought. Sweet Cyrus, she hadn’t been in deportment school for years! What did the arrogant man expect?

“Nellie,” he barked. “Turn around and face Me.”

She hesitated for a moment, but then complied. Exasperated herself, she threw her hands up in the air, the jarring action causing her nipple chains to make a twinkling sound. “Is this not what You want? What have I done wrong now?”

His jaw clenched. “Perhaps you are doing this just a bit too right,” he hissed.

Now she was the one doing the blinking. “I, um…I do not follow.”

“Where did you learn this!” Kerick bellowed. His nostrils flared. “Who has mastered you before Me? And how is it that you do not bear a brand from any but Me?”

Ah—he was jealous. The outrageous emotion shouldn’t have aroused her, but it did.

Nellie frowned disapprovingly—whether at him for growling at her or at herself for being aroused by an emotion she had no business desiring, she couldn’t say. “So if I was mastered by another, then does that mean You wish to let me take my leave of You and the catacombs?”

His gray eyes narrowed menacingly. “Not a chance,” he said distinctly, each word spaced out. “Not a chance.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You are the only Master I have ever known,” she admitted.

“Then how—”

“Deportment school.” She shrugged. “My sire sent me to deportment school for two years so I’d know what a Master would expect of me.”

Kerick grunted. He sounded both irritated and appeased. “The males of the biosphere are too weak to break their own wenches?” he asked incredulously. “They rely upon droid schoolmarms to see to the task?”

She nodded. “I suppose that about sums it up, yes.”

He grunted again. “Tell me, are they able to actually fuck their wives, or does it upset their delicate constitutions too much to do that as well?”

Nellie hid a smile. This was the first time Kerick had ever shown a sense of humor in her presence. That he had decided to develop one when she was doing her damnedest to keep her emotional distance was a bit off-putting. “I assume they are able to breed their wives, yes.”

He sighed, surprising her. Kerick wasn’t given to showing weaknesses, and that sigh clearly stated that he was exasperated.

“Nellie…”

“Yes?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I will be right back.”

She blinked. She was having a kong of a time trying to figure him out. She wanted to ask him where he was going, but decided he probably wouldn’t answer her anyway so why bother to ask. She’d only get irritated when he didn’t. “Are we not going to eat dinner?” she inquired instead.

Kerick threw a dismissive hand toward the corner of the chamber closest to the door. “In My satchel you will find provisions. Ready them for us to eat and I shall return in a few minutes.”

Nellie had to wonder at the calculating expression on his face, but she said nothing. She nodded instead, leaving it at that. “It will be ready when You return.”

* * * * *

Kerick wanted to hit someone or something—namely the weak male who had sent Nellie to deportment school. Didn’t her sire understand how strong the bonds between the Master and the mastered became when all was said and done? It was a mental process as much as a sexual one—a process he had effectively been robbed of before he’d even known Nellie had existed.

He supposed he could go through the motions of mastering her, yet he doubted the result would be as powerful since she had been desensitized to it at a young age and knew what to expect.

That meant that he needed a new game plan—another way to engage Nellie’s emotions. Docile compliance spawned nothing but stoic acceptance. Emotions—especially extreme, severe emotions—would give him the result he needed to make her cling to him in a short period of time.

He needed her to cling to him. And if he were honest with himself, the reasons weren’t totally for Nellie’s benefit. He had his own selfish reasons for wanting to be cherished by her, though he hated admitting needs so romantic in nature were a part of him.

He realized, of course, that Nellie would prefer to keep her emotions under lock and key…

Kerick’s jaw clenched. He also realized that he’d never allow that to happen.

Chapter 27

January 24, 2250 A.D.

It was a little after midnight when Kerick returned to the chamber. Nellie immediately went to the pillow-bed and got in the head-down-ass-up position. She heard Kerick mutter something about droid schoolmarms, which she found decidedly irritating. There was simply no pleasing the man, she thought with down-turned lips.

“Nellie, come to the table and share dinner with Me,” he rumbled out.

Her belly clamored at the reminder of food. It had been hours since she’d eaten. “Okay.”

When she turned around, the first thing she noticed was that the calculating look Kerick had sported upon leaving the chamber had grown even more acute. She stopped cold in her tracks for a brief moment, a bit alarmed. But not wanting to give away her fright, she quickly recovered and walked the rest of the space that lay between them.

His callused hands found her breasts and began to gently knead them. She blinked a few times in rapid succession, trying her damnedest to ward off the arousal she was experiencing. And then his fingers began to pluck at and tweak her nipples and she knew she was a goner. It was all she could do to not moan like a wanton.

“My rings look beautiful on them,” he murmured, his expression intense and brooding. “I’ve never seen nipples of this rare rouge color before.”

“Oh.” It was all she could think to say. She was having a hard enough of a time trying to keep her eyelids from hooding in desire and her legs from going weak.

He gave her a deeper nipple massage, forcing her to moan for him. “Do you like that?” he murmured, his voice thick. “Would you like to sit on My lap while you eat, that I might massage your nipples and cunt?”

She wanted to scream out a yes, but refused to. It was her objective, she reminded herself, to gain his trust without breaking to his will. “If it pleases You,” Nellie hedged. She closed her eyes briefly, arousal making them difficult to keep open. “Then it would please me as well.”

The next thing she knew she was in his lap with her legs spread wide apart, her back to his chest, while she dined on cheeses, a tasty meat she wasn’t familiar with, and a flat bread. He leisurely toyed with her nipples—plucking at them, plumping them up with his fingers—and occasionally ran a callused hand down her belly, then onward to her cunt to play with it.

Within minutes she’d had her fill of food and was moaning instead of eating. She dropped a piece of meat onto her trencher and turned around in his lap. Straddling him, she could feel his erect cock poking through the black body-molded braies he wore.

“Please,” she whispered, her eyelashes lowered. “Will Master please fuck me?” She ground her hips against him, letting him know how much she wanted it.

“Look Me in the eye,” Kerick murmured. “Always look Me in the eye when asking for a boon.”

A boon? Nellie thought incredulously. A boon? She sighed. Considering how worked up he’d purposely gotten her, it probably was a boon, she thought grimly.

But look him in the eye while asking to be mounted? It was the very thing she didn’t want to do. It was easier to guard oneself, after all, if she could pretend that the man whose confidence she wanted to gain was a nameless, faceless entity.

A fact he was no doubt aware of. Damn him.

No—she couldn’t look him in the eye, she realized. It made her too vulnerable. If he rejected her, which she highly suspected he was going to do in order to prove his power over her, then she would feel humiliated.

Which was no doubt the point of all this, she thought acidly.

His thumb found her clit. He applied pressure to it, rubbing her intimately in lazy, but firm circles.

She gasped, her head falling back and her eyes closing.

His mouth latched around a plump nipple and suckled it vigorously, heady mmm sounds coming from low in his throat while his thumb continued to stroke her clit.

She moaned, her fingers threading through his hair. “Please,” she breathed out. She opened her eyes slowly, hesitantly making eye contact. She swallowed when their gazes clashed, having never felt more naked than she felt at this moment. “Will Master please fuck me?” she asked quietly, her voice vulnerable.

He looked pleased—arrogantly pleased. Her nostrils flared as she looked away, preparing for rejection.

“Of course,” he murmured.

Her breathing stilled. Her head shot back, and she looked at him dumbly. “Err…you will?”

“Yes.” Kerick reached into his braies, freeing his cock. The thick piece of male flesh jutted out from his groin looking ready and eager. “So long as you are honest with Me, and always give Me honest reactions, I will deny you nothing. Save the right to leave Me, of course.”

She wet her lips. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Naked honesty?” she muttered.

He nodded slowly, his steel gray eyes clashing with hers. “Naked honesty,” he murmured.

She cleared her throat and glanced away, unable to hold his gaze. “All right,” she whispered.

Kerick cupped her chin, forcing her head up until she met his gaze again. “Always look Me in the eye,” he reminded her.

It took a long moment, but eventually she nodded. She had no idea why he wanted her to look at him and couldn’t decide what to make of it. “All right,” she repeated, this time meeting his gaze. “Naked honesty.”

His hands found her hips. He nudged her body up, telling Nellie without words to mount him. She did, guiding the opening of her pussy to the head of his cock. She closed her eyes at the same time she threw her hips down, doing her best to impale herself on him. But he stopped her with his hands, his muscled biceps flexing.

“Look at Me while you fuck Me,” he said in low tones. “Do not close your eyes, Nellie. I am your Husband, not a body part.”

She flinched as though she had been struck. This was more difficult than even she had thought it would be, but at the same time she didn’t want him feeling badly because of her. She supposed she shouldn’t care of his feelings, but found that she did.

Nellie opened her eyes, her gaze slowly clashing with his. He allowed her to sink down on him then, which she did, enveloping his cock on a groan.

“Your pussy feels so good,” Kerick murmured, his intense eyes narrowed in desire. One callused hand came up, threading through her dark red mane of hair. “Cyrus smiled on Me the day he delivered this intelligent, wonderful woman into My safe-keeping.”

She maintained his gaze, but suddenly felt like crying. No male had ever spoken to her so sweetly. No male had ever spoken to her as though she mattered. “Thank you,” she said a bit shakily. She cleared her throat and blinked a few times in rapid succession, trying her best to rein her emotions in.

They began to fuck—slow and leisurely. And always they maintained eye contact. Nellie rode up and down him, moaning as she enveloped his cock into her sticky flesh, over and over, again and again.

And always they maintained eye contact.

Kerick played with her nipples, murmured words of praise and thanks to her, told her how beautiful she was, how much he admired and cherished her…

And always they maintained eye contact.

The naked honesty, Nellie admitted to herself as she threw her hips down and grinded her cunt onto his cock, was getting to her. She’d never felt more vulnerable, more exposed. Everything was right there for him to see—the years of loneliness she’d spent since her father had forced her from Nicoletta, the deep-seated fear of abandonment she’d carried around inside ever since her mother had died, the bleakness she’d felt at knowing she’d never be able to have both her treasured career and the security of family every woman wants…

When you look another person in the eye, there is no way to lie. All of your emotions, all of your vulnerabilities, no matter how greatly you might wish to mask them, are there for the other person to either cherish or tatter.

Kerick was choosing to cherish them. She felt her eyes well up with tears.

“You are so perfect,” he murmured. “Inside and out.”

And then there were his eyes to consider, she thought shakily. They were dead—unless she was around. Bleak—unless she was around. Guarded—unless he was making love to her.

Loneliness—he had known so much loneliness…

A single tear tracked down Kerick’s cheek, causing Nellie to lose it completely. She began to softly cry as she rode him, tears streaming down her face unchecked. “Kerick…”

She reached for him then, threading her fingers through his hair and bringing his face down to meet hers. She kissed him with everything she had in her, the very first time she had allowed, let alone wanted, a male’s lips to touch her own.

If he had meant to break her with naked honesty, it had worked, but in the process he had broken himself.

She slipped her tongue past his lips, needing to be as connected to him as possible. The kiss was unguarded in a way Nellie had never been before, a freeing, intimate experience she hadn’t allowed herself prior to this moment in time. Kerick was just as caught up in it, his tongue aggressively thrusting into her mouth to take over the lead.

When they finally let each other go from the kiss, they fucked hard—animalistically.

And always they maintained eye contact.

Nellie arched her back as she rode up and down him, her large tits jiggling from the fast movement. Kerick’s jaw clenched, the vein on his neck prominent as he cupped and kneaded them.

“Come for your Master, Nellie,” he ground out, his callused palms kneading her breasts as though he meant to brand them. “I need to feel your sweet cunt coming for Me.”

Nellie rode him harder, her pussy making suctioning sounds as she repeatedly enveloped him. “Kerick,” she breathed out, her eyes widening, “Master.”

She came hard, screaming as they stared into each other’s eyes, the orgasm more intense than she’d ever known. He followed quickly, his nostrils flaring and his breathing heavy as his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips and he poured his hot cum into her cunt on a groan.

When it was over, when both of them had been drained, she collapsed against his chest and cried softly, the feel of his arms wrapped securely around her making the tears fall freely. Nellie couldn’t remember having ever cried in front of another human since her mother had died, let alone in front of a man. But she couldn’t seem to help herself.

He didn’t take advantage of her vulnerability, didn’t make light of it or try to push her away for showing a soft side. Kerick held her instead, kissing her forehead and telling her of how wondrous she was, telling her of how he’d never let anyone hurt her, telling her of all the babies he wanted to put in her belly…

Nellie clung to him, letting the tears fall until they were done, feeling more vulnerable yet more protected than she’d ever before felt. She fell asleep in his arms that eve, in the throes of a deep slumber by the time he carried her to the pillow-bed and fell asleep on it beside her.

As the years passed by, Nellie would never forget this night. It had been a catalyst in her life, she would one day admit to her husband—a powerfully beautiful, and powerfully frightening, moment in time.

Chapter 28

January 28, 2250 A.D.

The next four days proved to be the most intimate, and freeing, that Nellie had ever known. She and Kerick got to know each other in non-sexual, as well as sexual, ways. Nellie told him about being a scientist, about the serum she had been working on, and about her employer breaking into her domicile when Kerick had captured her the first time. She admitted that that was the reason she and Cyrus 12 had fled the Altun Ha biosphere and told him that she hoped he would support her endeavor to continue her work and finish the serum here in the catacombs.

He had adamantly said of course, which had elated her. Her trust in him soared higher after that.

But for reasons she couldn’t quite pinpoint, perhaps because she was so used to keeping it a secret, Nellie never once told Kerick about Margaret Riley or about the doctor’s secret journal. Margaret, her posthumous heroine, was her one final secret—for now. She knew that eventually she would have to tell him, most likely after he had stolen all the necessary equipment she would need to continue her grueling work.

Nellie wasn’t the only one who talked. Kerick, contrary to her expectations, was very open about his life and experiences with her. He never spoke of his mother other than to say he’d lost her to infection, so Nellie rightly assumed that the subject was too painful for him and never broached it. She could understand his feelings, for she hadn’t spoken of Sinead with him either, other than to tell him that she too had lost her mother to infection.

Where Kerick didn’t speak of his childhood at length, he did, however, tell her about his detention in the Kong Penal Colony, a subject that sparked some sort of a distant déjà vu kind of feeling for reasons she couldn’t place. He spoke of the loneliness, of the systematic abuse doled out to the slave laborers, of how some of the laborers were taken away to be used as guinea pigs for Fathom Systems…

She’d swallowed nervously when he’d told her that, not quite able to bring herself to admit that the man responsible for all that was her sire. Kan, after all, was a common last name in Federated Earth, as common as Jones or Jackson had been hundreds of years ago, so she wasn’t surprised by the fact that he’d not yet made the connection between his wife and Abdul Kan.

As close as the two of them grew in those four days in non-sexual ways, so too did they further their intimate bond with constant sex. Nellie’s favorite activity was to kneel at Kerick’s feet while he talked to her about his life, sucking on his cock as he opened up his heart to her…

Kerick groaned as Nellie sat on her knees before him, deep-throating his cock. The smacking sounds her lips were making as she sucked on him were as exciting as the suckling itself. She was moaning low in her throat, as if his cock was the best treat she’d ever tasted, and her hands were expertly massaging his balls, tightening them up as his arousal grew.

“As I was saying…”

Her cat-like green eyes closed as if in bliss, and her lips devoured his cock. She took him all the way in, until the head of his manhood damn near touched her tonsils.

Sweet Cyrus—who gave a yen what he had been saying.

“Nellie,” Kerick groaned, his fingers threading through her hair. She looked so beautiful and wondrous, sitting naked and submissive on her knees before him, wearing nothing but nipple chains and the brand he knew was on her ass. Her full lips sucked on him faster, the smacking sounds growing louder and louder.

Kerick’s muscles corded and tensed as he prepared to orgasm. He had never felt so connected to another human being as he felt at this moment. He wanted to tell her he loved her, tell her that he would always love her, and yet the words stopped at his lips, perhaps afraid that they wouldn’t be returned.

“Nellie.” He groaned loudly as he came, hot liquid spurting into her mouth on a roar. She drank every bit of it, lapping it up as though she couldn’t get enough of it.

When it was over, when he had come down from his high, he picked Nellie up and carried her to the pillow-bed. He didn’t bother telling her what he was going to do, he just did it. Without a word, his face dove between her legs and he greedily lapped at her cunt, licking her labial folds and sucking on her clit until she came hard and violently for him.

Even then he found that he couldn’t stop. His face remained buried between her legs, sucking on her flesh until she’d come twice more and had insisted that she could take no more. By then he was hard again.

Turning her over, Kerick murmured for her to get in the head-down-ass-up position. She immediately complied, further arousing him.

He sank into Nellie’s flesh on a groan, the sight of the branding on her ass a powerful aphrodisiac. He possessively ran a rough palm over it, watching her ass jiggle as he fucked her hard from behind.

Her body still at the height of sensitivity from all the orgasms she’d just had, Nellie couldn’t seem to stop coming. The harder he banged her, the louder she screamed—and the more she came.

Kerick grabbed her by the hips and fucked her possessively, plunging in and out of her cunt with domineering strokes. “More!” he heard her beg. “Master, please fuck Your pussy harder.”

He went wild on her then, his hips pistoning back and forth as he greedily stuffed her flesh full of cock and cum. He broke on a roar, his teeth gritting and jaw clenching as he spurted his seed deep inside of her.

Long moments later, when his breathing returned to semi-normal, Kerick gently nudged Nellie’s body, getting her to lie down on her side. He followed her down to the pillow-bed with his own body, his cock never leaving her pussy.

Side by side, their bodies still joined together, they fell into an exhausted sleep in the animal furs.

Chapter 29

January 29, 2250 A.D.

“What the kong are you doing?” Kieran bellowed.

Karen yelped, not having heard him enter the Underground corridor. Her sensory chains jingled as she turned on her heel to face him. “You scared me,” she breathed out.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’ll just bet I did.”

“It’s—it’s not what You think.”

“Uh huh. So you weren’t trying to get into the sealed off cavern again then?” Kieran crossed his arms over his chest. “You were looking for a gift for Me, is that it?” he asked sarcastically.

Karen blushed, looking away.

“Why do you want to leave Me?” he gritted out. His anger quickly dissipated, turning into vulnerability. “I’d do anything for you,” he said softly. “I love you.”

Karen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The boy was getting under her skin.

Who was she fooling? Sweet Kalast, Kieran was already under her skin.

“If I ever left,” she quietly admitted, “it would only be for a while. And I’d always come back to You, Master.”

Kieran’s nostrils flared. His eyes searched hers. He uncrossed his arms and pushed away from the corridor wall. “You ain’t leaving Me—not ever.”

She put up a palm, then softly rested it on his chest when he stood before her. Her head came up and she met his eyes. She told him the truth, or as much of it as she could tell without betraying the Xibalba. “I have to go, Kieran. I must. For You, for our unborn child…I have to go,” she murmured.

His jaw clenched. “Why?”

She sighed, knowing she could never divulge her reasons to him. For if he did know why…

She couldn’t even imagine what would become of her.

Karen shook her head, looking away. “I can’t tell You.” She sighed again. “I wish I could, but I can’t. You must trust me in this and let me go.”

“No,” he ground out. “I will never—”

“I vow I will come back,” Karen promised, her eyes meeting his once again. “I vow it,” she adamantly repeated.

Kieran closed his eyes briefly, sighing. “Tell Me why you must go.”

“I’ve told You that I cannot—”

“Then the answer is no.” His jaw clenched. “If you cannot trust Me, Karen Riley, then I cannot trust you.”

His expression grew remote, which she found oddly depressing. She had grown to cherish the unguarded manner in which he dealt with her. “Kieran…”

“No!” he barked.

She offered him no resistance as he forcibly steered her from the corridor.

* * * * *

Naked save the nipple chains and the ever-present sensory chains she wore, Nellie felt a bit anxious as Kerick led her down the long earthen corridor that led to the commons chamber. This was the first time since her arrival in the catacombs that she was obliged to be near other Underground dwellers. She wasn’t certain of what to expect.

Dozens of male eyes were on her as she and Kerick made their way into the commons chamber. Their eyes seemed glued first to her dark red pubic hair and then to her large breasts. It occurred to her that most of these males had probably never seen a female who had been biosphere engineered and bred. Either that or it was the rare coloring of her nipples and pussy hair that they enjoyed. She felt a bit embarrassed when they began applauding, cheering Kerick on for having recaptured her.

“Way to go!” one shouted out. The others followed suit, praising Kerick for the capture of his rare prize.

They were celebrating the fact that Kerick had proven to be more cunning a hunter than she was an escapee. Her nostrils flared at the perceived insult.

“Stop it,” Kerick murmured, steering her toward a table where a young but heavily muscled male was seated on an animal fur covered stone chair. A female wearing nipple chains, a woman in her late thirties that she could safely assume was his wife, sat at the young Master’s feet, suckling his cock as he ate his meal from a trencher. “They are not making jest of you. They are but congratulating Me.”

She sighed, realizing as she did that this wasn’t worth fighting about. “Fair enough.”

“Did your droid schoolmarm tell you of what is expected from a wife when partaking of a meal with unmated males not of her or her Master’s line?”

“Of course,” Nellie sniffed, suddenly feeling defensive of her schooling. “I had a high-class education.”

He grunted, obviously unconvinced where the merits of her educational background were concerned. “I will introduce You to My comrades after the meal, as is the way of it,” Kerick said in low tones so nobody could hear them. “Until then, I ask as a favor to Me that—”

Nellie stopped in her tracks. She turned to face him. “I won’t embarrass You,” she said, a bit hurt that he’d thought she might even consider it. “I know what is expected of me in public, Kerick. Having the manners of a hybrid pig is Your field,” she said sweetly, “not mine.”

He frowned, but leaned down to kiss her. “Let us eat.”

“Kerick,” she said weakly, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the eyes on her.

“Yes?”

“Can we leave as soon as we’re done eating?” She cleared her throat, glancing away. “This is a bit much a bit too soon,” she whispered.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Of course.” He waited for her to look back up at him. “I have a stolen virtual movie chip in My satchel. If you’d like, we can watch Cabel Modem’s latest show after the meal.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t know You owned a virtual movie lab. I didn’t know one could in the catacombs.”

“Well now you do.”

She grinned, the first time she’d ever done that in front of him. His eyes widened a bit, then softened as if studying it. “Which show is it?”

He blinked, returning to normal. “Savage Alien Love, or some such drivel. It’s a wench-flick. You will like it.”

She nodded, then followed him to the table. She deeply suspected he had stolen the virtual movie chip expressly for her, but said nothing.

Kerick took his seat at the communal table. He sat in an animal fur covered stone chair that was actually quite comfortable to lounge on due to all of the padding. Once there he motioned for Nellie to follow suit.

Nellie took her societal place at his feet, kneeling down onto the lush animal furs that had been splayed out on the dirt ground for her to sit upon. She waited for Kerick to remove his stiff cock from his black braies, then immediately began to suckle it while he ate his meal and talked with his friends.

She wasn’t precisely certain why females were expected to do this when dining in public. The only thing she could figure was that it stemmed from a primal need Masters had to remind unmated males who it was that owned the wench sitting submissively at His feet, sucking Him off. In a world were females were rarer than uncorrupt Hierarchy leaders, she was hardly surprised.

Nellie’s gaze flicked to the woman seated beside her, the one kneeling at the young Master’s feet. Apparently her Master had already came for she was being fed from his hand. The woman smiled. “I’m Karen Riley,” she whispered. “Your sister-in-law.”

Without removing Kerick’s erect cock from her mouth, Nellie smiled back at her. She obediently sucked on it even as she listened to the other woman speak. Wait a minute, she thought hesitantly. Had Karen said that her last name was…

“And you are Nellie Riley,” the woman said meaningfully, startling Nellie to the point where she all but gagged on her Master’s cock. “It’s my humble pleasure to meet you, Doctor.”

Nellie Riley. Nellie…Riley?

The woman’s eyes sharpened. “Yes,” she murmured. “That Nellie Riley.” She accepted another food bit from her Master’s hand and swallowed it quickly, watching as Nellie feverishly suckled Kerick’s cock. “We must help each other,” Karen said in a barely audible whisper. “And soon.”

No, Nellie thought, her heart thumping like mad in her chest while she sucked her Husband off. Surely Kerick couldn’t be…that Kerick? Margaret’s son?

“Elijah,” Kerick said, turning Nellie’s attention to what was transpiring above-table. “With Maxim Malifé dead at your hands, that leaves only four more that we must take out.”

Nellie’s eyes widened. She suckled Kerick fast and furiously, wanting him to come so she could whisper with Karen.

“True,” Elijah’s deep voice concurred. “Tozeki LeJeune, Kalif Henders, Creagh O’Malley, and…”

Nellie’s heart began pounding in her ears.

“…Abdul Kan,” Elijah finished. He snorted, his tone arrogant. “I’m enjoying this, amigo. Those bitches all know by now that you have escaped from Kong. Those bitches are aware that the Grim Reaper has returned from the land of death.”

Sweet Cyrus. Nellie closed her eyes and sucked faster. Her head bobbed up and down in lightning-fast motions that made her dizzy. She was rewarded for her hard work a few moments later when Kerick’s cock spurted, hot cum shooting down her throat.

She drained him dry, making certain no juice was left, then turned wide eyes on Karen. “What is going on?” she whispered. She accepted the piece of meat Kerick handed down to her as he continued the conversation with his comrades, eating it out of his palm. She chewed quickly. “Who are you?”

Karen listened to the talk above-table for a protracted moment, making certain her Master was embroiled in the conversation. “A scientist like you,” she whispered back. “I came here to bring you to the Xibalba but was captured by your Master’s brother in the process.”

Nellie closed her eyes briefly, overwhelmed by all that she had learned in what amounted to less than five minutes time.

“The serum, Doctor,” Karen whispered. “It must be finished. Now.”

“I agree,” Nellie whispered back, accepting another piece of meat from Kerick’s palm. “Kerick will be acquiring the necessary equipment that I might—”

“We’ve no time for that. We must flee. Together. Tonight.” Karen’s nostrils were flared, her expression one that would broach no argument to the contrary. “More rides on this than you can possibly know,” she said, her voice breaking into a quiver.

Nellie wanted more information, but realized that time was of the essence. When the males were finished with their conversation, the women would be brought above-table. Who knew when they could speak freely again after that. “I cannot,” Nellie whispered. “But I can promise to get that equipment just as soon as—”

Karen held up a palm, silencing her. “Please,” she begged. “Please come with me.” She spoke the rest quickly, accurately guessing that the conversation above-table was almost finished. “Meet me at the corridor that leads into the cavern with the zida stones this eve at midnight. I’ve figured out a way to break its seal.”

Nellie was given no time to reply for Kerick was bringing her up to sit in his lap, as was Karen’s Master doing to her. She sat in his lap, her back to his chest, his hands kneading her large breasts and massaging her nipples for all to see while he introduced her to his friends.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nellie politely murmured first to Elijah, then to Xavier, and finally to her brother-in-law Kieran. Her eyes shuddered as arousal gnawed at her. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Chapter 30

Nellie climbed out of the pillow-bed at ten minutes of midnight, careful not to wake Kerick in the doing. She had never been more frightened, more on edge, than she was at this moment, for if he caught her…

She swallowed against the lump in her throat as she collected her satchel. If he caught her he would never forgive her.

Stopping only long enough to make certain he was softly snoring, she quietly exited their chamber, then ran down the corridor to where she knew Karen would be waiting. Just as she’d known she would be, the scientist was there, looking as nervous and uncertain as Nellie felt.

Karen’s eyes lit up when she saw her. She motioned with her hands for Nellie to hurry.

By the time Nellie reached her side, she was panting for breath. “I cannot go with you—not without telling Kerick,” she told a defeated looking Karen. “But,” she said quickly, “I’ve brought copies both of Margaret Riley’s journal and my own notes. There’s enough information here to get started on the serum. I vow to you that I will follow soon on your heels to finish it.” She sighed. “With or without Him.”

Karen looked hopeful again. “Thank you,” she murmured. “But you do not know how to find the Xibalba—”

“Cavern 7?”

Karen’s eyes widened. “Yes,” she whispered. “The third boulder on the right in the inner most antechamber.”

“Go quickly.” Nellie handed over her spare copy of notes to Karen then shooed her toward the sealed off entrance of the cavern containing the zida stones. “I’ve already figured out why you need that serum—now go!” she whispered fiercely.

Karen nodded. She stopped long enough to kiss her cheek, then opened the trapdoor she’d figured out how to break the seal on. “Tell Kieran I’ll be back, Cyrus willing,” she murmured. “I…” She glanced away and sighed. “This will hurt Him and I don’t want Him hurting.” Their eyes clashed. “Make Him understand,” she whispered.

Nellie smiled. “I will,” she said reassuringly, though she didn’t know if that would be possible or practical. She glanced over her shoulder, freezing when she saw the shadows of men coming upon them. She turned back to Karen. “Go!” she adamantly whispered. “Go!”

Karen disappeared through the trapdoor and Nellie sealed it behind her. She was so worked up by the time the trapdoor had been resealed that she felt as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

She turned on her heel, preparing to go back to her chamber, when four grim looking faces stopped her dead in her tracks. Nellie’s eyes widened. Her gaze flew up to meet the only one here that mattered to her, the one who was looking at her as though she’d ripped out his heart. “Kerick…”

“Do not,” he hissed, “speak to Me, wench.” His nostrils flared. “Go back to our chamber and await Me there.”

Nellie swallowed roughly. “I didn’t try to run from You—”

“So you say.” His jaw clenched. “Remove yourself from the trapdoor that My brother and My men might collect Karen.”

“No don’t!” Her chin came up determinedly. “It’s vital that You let her go—”

“Go to the chamber!” he bellowed. “Go now!”

Her nostrils flared. But, deciding that she wasn’t likely to sway either him or the three other males determined to recapture Karen, she walked away from Kerick, then ran down the corridor.

Apparently he decided not to take any further chances where she was concerned, for by the time she had reached their chamber he was stalking in behind her, slamming the thatch and stone door in his wake.

Minutes ticked by. Neither of them spoke.

Unable to endure the bleak quiet any longer, Nellie turned around to face Kerick. Her jaw was clenched as tightly as his, her nostrils were flared as outrageously as his, her breathing every bit as labored as his. “I said I didn’t try to run!” she shrieked. “I expect to be believed given this past week we’ve spent together!”

His intense eyes bore into hers, looking more desperate and more vulnerable than she’d ever thought possible. “I want to believe you,” he said hoarsely. I want to—”

Her eyes gentled, but she remained firm. “Then believe me, Kerick. Please.”

She broke eye contact and began to pace the chamber. She threw her hands up in the air, aggravated that she had no real way to prove her words. “I admit I helped Karen to escape, but her reasons for needing to go are valid—I will explain them to You later,” she said quickly before he threw out some arrogant, irritating line about wenches belonging with their Masters. “But—but!—I did not run from You. If I had, I’d have been gone long before You entered that Cyrus-forsaken corridor!”

Kerick’s nostrils were still flared, his breathing still harsh, but he looked as though he was calming down a bit. And better yet, he looked as though he was finally starting to believe her.

“I’ve never felt so broken in My life,” he murmured, his gaze clashing with hers, “as I felt when I woke up and thought you had run from Me.”

Nellie hung her head. “Kerick…I won’t leave You.” Her face came up. She sighed as they resumed eye contact. “I vow it.”

He nodded, letting the silence stretch out between them for a protracted moment. But finally he said, “You have much to explain to Me.”

“Yes.”

“You can explain in the morn.”

She blinked. “You don’t want to know right now?”

“No.” He slowly began to shed his body décor as he backed her up toward the pillow-bed. “I need to be inside of you, Nellie,” he said hoarsely. “I need you period.”

Nothing else needed to be said. She felt the same way. She’d never felt so alone inside as she’d felt during those tense minutes when she’d thought Kerick wouldn’t believe her innocence.

Within moments Nellie was lying flat on her back, her thighs spread wide for his thrusts. Neither of them was ready to speak of romantic love to the other, yet the emotions were in their every kiss, their every touch.

Kerick wrapped a palm-full of her dark red hair around his hand, then sank into her cunt on a groan. Nellie groaned with him, frantically meeting him thrust for thrust.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding on while he gave her a hard ride. His buttocks clenched and contracted as he repeatedly plunged into her pussy, drilling into her mercilessly.

They fucked hard that eve, sexually bonding with each other in an almost desperate fashion. Nellie never wanted the sweetness to end, never wanted the night to turn into the dawn, for she knew that once she told Kerick everything, their lives would forever be changed.

She and Kerick would stay together forever, she realized. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem as Nellie saw it was figuring out, given all the obstacles that lay ahead, how to make forever last until they were both old and gray.

She fell asleep in his arms pondering that question, clinging to her beloved Kerick as he had hoped she one day would.

Chapter 31

January 30, 2250 A.D.

Karen ran into the middle antechamber, knowing that the men were fast on her heels. Her breathing was labored, her breasts bobbing up and down, as she dashed toward the Xibalba.

Just one more antechamber, she told herself firmly. Keep running!

The sounds of three sets of footfalls grew closer, frightening her. She rounded a corner and almost screamed when she bodily clashed with her leader. “Oh thank Cyrus,” she breathed out, her hand flying up to cover her heart. “You frightened me.”

Intense gray eyes clashed with hers. “Let’s go,” the woman said. “In here.”

The two women filed behind a boulder, hiding themselves away in a large crevice. They remained totally still as they listened to the males run in to the antechamber.

“Fuck!” Kieran swore. “I’ve lost her.”

Karen closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, hating that she had to do this to him.

“Let’s break up, amigos,” she heard Elijah call out, a voice that induced Karen’s leader to flinch. “Xavier, you take the outer antechamber, Kieran hunt the middle one. I’ll search the inner one. Let’s meet in the middle antechamber in twenty minutes.”

The males split up and went about their work. Karen and her leader stood quietly, unmoving, scarcely even breathing for the next twenty minutes. When the specified rendezvous time at last came upon them, the women quietly scurried from the boulder’s crevice and made their way into the inner antechamber.

“Let’s go,” the leader murmured, opening the third boulder on the right for Karen to sneak through. “You first.”

Karen nodded, doing as she had been instructed, the notes still firmly in her grasp. She turned around once she was in, preparing to help her leader climb through the trapdoor, when it suddenly swung shut and was sealed off with a dull thud.

What the…?

* * * * *

Elijah’s hand clamped down on the wench’s shoulder. He had known that if he waited long enough his patience would be rewarded. He hadn’t recaptured Karen yet, true, but if this wench knew what was good for her then she’d tell him how to get to her.

“Where is she?” he gritted out as he turned the female around to face him. “Where is—”

Elijah’s words faltered as his jaw dropped open. Wide brown eyes clashed with intense gray ones.

In shock, his hand fell from the woman’s shoulder and he stumbled back a few paces. “Sweet Cyrus,” Elijah murmured. He ran a hand over his jaw, his eyes unblinking. “Is it—is it…”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Is it you?”

Coming soon:

Also by Jaid Black:

Ellora’s Cave

www.ellorascave.com

Table of Contents

Chapter15

Comingsoon:

AlsobyJaidBlack: