But it had only been for a second. She’d felt him push his way inside her, smelled him, felt like vomiting...
And then he wasn’t there anymore. There were just noises and grunts and screams and...
Keirth had killed him. Keirth had saved her.
But Keirth wasn’t talking to her. He was sitting in the pilot’s seat, punching things in on the console.
Abruptly, the visual of hyperspace switched off.
“Gives me a headache,” said Keirth.
Ariana had thought it was pretty. But she didn’t protest. She hugged her knees closer to her chest. What would happen now? “Where are we going?” she asked.
Keirth didn’t look up from the console. “I picked random coordinates. I don’t know. When get there, we can pick another destination if you want.”
They were on a ship to nowhere. She wasn’t a virgin anymore. Was she? Did it count, what Risciter did? It had only been a moment. And Keirth was a wanted criminal, because they’d think... What would they think? Risciter had told the comm that both of them were dead. When they found the bodies on Scranth, would they know that Risciter had been lying?
Somehow, she didn’t think they would.
She looked at Keirth. She’d started this whole mess trying to save Risciter. But she’d ended up cheering Keirth on inside her head as he’d killed Risciter. She was glad he was dead. Everything was different now. Everything.
* * *
Sergeant Nol Praxider of the Intergalactic Police stepped out of the brothel on Scranth. He took in a long breath of clean, fresh air. Praxider wasn’t a stranger to scenes of slaughter, but this was perhaps one of the worst he’d ever seen. So many bodies. So many dead.
They wouldn’t even have found them if it hadn’t been for the distress call from the Duke of Risciter. The brothel was so remote, and its clientele probably not men on the right side of the law, that even if one of them had discovered it, they probably wouldn’t have reported it. Praxider thought of all these dead bodies rotting as the elements reclaimed the group of cottages. He shuddered.
But even with the tip off, things were not cut and dry. The Duke had claimed that Keirth Transman, the man he said had committed these murders, was dead. But there was no sign of Transman, and the duke himself had been killed viciously. Praxider had yet to count the number of stab wounds in the duke’s body. The only other body in the place that had been dealt with similarly was that of the madam’s, who also sported numerous stab wounds. That hadn’t been what killed her, though. She’d been killed by the cut to the throat, like all the other women’s bodies. Only the men lacked the trademark throat slash of this killer, including the duke, who seemed to have stabbed in a fury. Perhaps Transman only cut the throats of women.
It was obvious, though, given that the duke was dead, that Transman hadn’t been nearly as dead as the duke had thought.
The case bothered Praxider. He knew, of course, that there had been a distress call from Miss Ariana Gilit, claiming to have been captured by a man they now knew to be Keirth Transman. The Duke claimed that Transman had also killed Miss Gilit, but her body wasn’t here. Was she alive as well? Had the duke been mistaken about that?
Or had Transman taken her body with him? A man who slit the throats of this many prostitutes clearly was a sick man. Maybe he wanted to do disgusting things to Miss Gilit’s body.
But one thing bothered Praxider more than anything. If Transman had wanted to kill Miss Gilit, why had it taken him so long? Why not kill her right when he captured her?
He looked back at the brothel. Would he find his answers inside? He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He didn’t want to look at all the dead girls again.
* * *
The Duke of Tramet read the story on the nets with a heavy heart. So, Keirth was a murderer, was he? He shouldn’t have hoped for better, he realized. If only he’d gotten to the boy sooner. His mother had made it damned difficult, though, hadn’t she, traipsing all over the galaxy the way she had? It was a miracle Tramet had even known about Keirth in the first place, let alone tracked him down and followed him.
He supposed it should have been expected. The boy’d had a terrible life. His mother had seen to that. She’d raised him amongst lowlifes. She’d exposed him to all kinds of horrific things. The boy probably couldn’t help but absorb all that and come out mean.
Ah, but Tramet was making excuses, wasn’t he? Did it really matter why Keirth had killed people? He’d killed people. Tramet didn’t do himself any favors by harboring any more sympathy for the boy. He’d have to let it go.
It wasn’t worth it anymore. Keirth was a monster. Tramet wanted nothing more to do with him. Besides, since Risciter had been his only lead, and Risciter was now dead, the trail had gone cold. It was time to give up.