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Nightbred(97)

By:Lynn Viehl


“No, no, not until we get them out of here.” Sam took off at a flat run for the walkway between the casino and the old ship.

* * *

Chris pressed back against the mast as two more guards walked within inches of her and Werren. Although she knew they couldn’t see or hear them, she still whispered. “How long do you think it’ll take Sam to get the people out of the casino?”

“Not very long,” Werren said. “Dutch ordered all the guards over to the Horde.” She hesitated before she asked, “If we live through this, what will happen to us?”

“You won’t be sex slaves anymore.” Chris glanced at her. “Why?”

Her mouth tightened. “We have not lived in the world beyond this ship for centuries. When they were mortal, the other women were harlots. This is all we know, this life.”

“I used to work in the sex trade,” Chris told her. “I had no family, no education, no skills, and it was the only way I could survive. Walking away from that scared me, but not as much as what I knew I’d become if I kept doing it. That’s the first step. You’ve got to want a better future for yourself.”

“I have no future. Your master will kill me for abducting his lady.” Werren looked miserable. “I deserve it.”

“Maybe you do, but that’s up to Sam,” Chris reminded her. “And if she wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.” She saw a blur of movement overhead on the walkway to the casino. “Sam’s coming back. Something must have gone wrong.”

“Oh, no.” Werren looked out at the boats approaching the ship. “Your master and his men—” Her eyes widened, and she made a choking sound before her expression blanked, and the illusion concealing them abruptly shifted away.

“How like women, to hide what whores they are.” Dutch jumped down from the quarterdeck and seized Chris by the throat, holding the blade of his sword in front of her nose. “I had such plans for you, Pearl Girl. You were to be the first I changed once I had back my gems.” He dragged her over to the side of the ship. “Now you’ll feed me and the sharks.”

A shard of glass slashed down in front of Chris’s face and smashed against Dutch’s fist. Analise threw away the fragments left in her hand. “You turn her loose, Dutchman.”

“I never liked tupping you, you old bat, even when you made yourself pretty.” He touched the medallion at his throat, and Analise became a statue. “I never want to see your ugly mug again.”

The old woman made jerky movements as she clawed at her face, and as Chris shrieked for her to stop, she felt Dutch’s breath on her throat and the agonizing stab of his fangs.

Blood poured down her chest when he lifted his mouth and made an obscene sucking sound. “Not as sweet as I thought you’d be.” He turned his head as Analise collapsed to the deck, and Werren staggered over to him, dragging a struggling Sam along with her as she reached out and took the sword Dutch held out to her.

“Let her go,” Chris choked out, but Werren pulled Sam away until they disappeared behind the mainmast.

“Lucan,” he shouted, and Chris looked down to see her boss standing on the tower of a marlin boat. “Tell your men they and your territory are mine now, or my whore will behead yours.”

“He’s not here to surrender to you, you fool.”

Chris looked over as the two tresori traitors appeared, both pointing guns at Dutch.

“What shit do you spew now?” Dutch demanded as he jerked Chris around and used her as a body shield. “You said if I took his woman that he would give me anything to get her back.”

“We told you that so you would bring Alenfar here,” one of the traitors sneered. “He will be the bait we use to draw out the smith, and find the jewels for our master. For that, we need to control him—with his woman.”

“You used me for this?” Dutch sounded stunned. “But the jewels belong to me. Your master be damned.”

“You will never have them.” The tresora grinned, and then froze as a weapon fired. He glanced down with a puzzled expression at the front of his suit, and the gun he held pressed against the wet scarlet stain on his shirt.

“Anything gold touches is mine,” Dutch said, his tone gloating. “Like the ring on your finger.”

The tresora shot himself a second time and toppled over.

Dutch turned his head toward Werren, who was rushing toward him, and she stopped in her tracks. As the second tresora saw her lift the sword she still carried, he shot wildly at her. She neatly decapitated him before Sam lunged at her and kicked the sword out of her hand. They struggled for a moment before Sam slammed Werren into the mainmast. As the senseless woman fell against her, Sam hoisted her over her shoulder and started toward Dutch and Chris.