When a man swept her over his shoulder, she let him.
Now wasn’t the time, but as soon as she could, she’d stab Criass in the neck.She was damn sure he didn’t have a heart.
Chapter Six
Iphara Island
Planet of Yithia
Year of 2254, August
Noonespokeasthey hurried across the foyer.Any Yithians along the way kept their gazes down.That didn’t give Wren a sense of peace.Shit was happening in this place that had to remain a secret.Why here, though?What was so special about this facility?The wide passages, decorated with tiny statues, narrowed until they reached an elevator.Its size was like a hospital’s, able to take a gurney.Still, it wasn’t huge enough for eight yellow men, their hostages, and Wren.The soil-scented air said they traveled far underground.She shivered, the cold seeping through her thin clothes.
The cage jerked when it stopped.Not that she had time to find her balance.In one surge, she was shoved out the door.She stumbled but managed to catch herself, splaying her fingers on the smooth wall to do so.She’d half expected to be in some sort of mine with rock-hewn walls, poor ventilation, and flickering light.The air was stale but had a chemical tang to it.Metallic panels and doors lined a narrow passage that headed left and right of her.
She had no doubts these men would go through with their threats.This place had a laboratory feel to its polished floors with sluice holes for easier drainage.No windows revealed what was inside each room; only narrow portholes high on the doors offered a glimpse.She couldn’t pause long enough to peek.
They veered to the right as the rest of the group joined them.A sharp jab at her back drove her into a square chamber with a shelf stacked with white towels or clothes.Many drain holes ran along the other end.A coiled pipe that looked like a fire hose screamed this room’s purpose.A hot shower would be preferable to what they planned.She gritted her teeth then winced when her fresh bruises pinged.
“Strip, and stand against the wall,” Criass commanded.“If she gives you trouble, stun her.”He smirked before leaving her alone with the other purple-robed men.They dumped the women with less care than the Yithians had shown.
She gaped.Pale yellow skin and tentacles for hair?Molods?Meloids?It didn’t matter who these aliens were, but she had heard of their species.She frowned.Weren’t they trade-faring people, dedicated to negotiating the best bargains?These men defied all she’d learned about them, not that it was much.
A few women moaned and sat up.Fear contorted their features; some sobbed or whimpered.
“Strip,” a man said while uncoiling the hose.
Wren hesitated.The promise of a dousing, no matter how unpleasant, was too tempting to fight.Oh, to be clean again and not smell of piss… But she’d be naked.
“Turn around,” she said, running her gaze across the voyeurs.
“Why?”One scowled, the black markings on his brow like tiny diamonds.
“For modesty,” she said and waited, folding her arms across her chest.“Do this, and we will give you no reason to stun us.”
“What?”a brunette asked, staggering to her feet.“I will not stand naked—”
“To be clean, I’ll promise anything,” Wren snapped at the woman.“Don’t ruin this for me, for a chance to feel human…”
The others scrambled up, a few waking the last three still unconscious.All the women stared at the men until they offered their backs.Only then did they undress.Wren had never stripped faster.She was careful with the dagger, not wanting it to fall out and draw attention.With her boots set to one side and her dirty clothes draped over them, she faced the Hose Man.
A wall of foam descended, drenching her.Instinct had her closing her eyes, but a woman cried out.The shit had to burn then.Wren didn’t dare peek.A click preceded ice-cold water blasting over her.It stole her breath.Goose bumps exploded into existence, chattering her teeth and summoning shivers.
She spun on the spot, hissing when the water reached warm parts of her.But at least it would wash away the foam.A few women pleading for the water to stop made Wren scowl.She said nothing, not knowing when next she’d get to be clean.
The spray shut off, leaving her dripping and trembling.Another man handed them each a garment while the hose was reeled in.
Wren yanked the robe on over her damp body, then slipped her feet into her boots, careful not to cut herself on the dagger.The others pulled on sneakers, boots, slippers, or sandals.None of the men stopped them.
Her hair wet the collar of the robe, but she didn’t say a word, letting the men lead them single file to another room nearby.It had the look of a holding cell with a wide, metal bench lining the perimeter.A pale barrier formed the moment all the women entered the space.Wren studied it and grimaced—a forcefield of a sort.
“What’s happening?How did we get here?”the brunette demanded, her face crumpling into a sob.
“We are Yithian prisoners on Iphara, their island,” Wren said, sinking onto the bench.She cupped her cheek and worked her jaw.
“Yithians?”A petite blonde woman gasped, her eyes wide with fear.“I was in the park—”
“Fishing,” a redhead muttered.“Took me right out of my boat.Name’s Terry.”
