Checkmate (10 page)

He did it. Grasping the shoe in his teeth, he brought it
across the dais to her, crawling on his hands and knees. Though he nearly
tipped over more than once, he finally laid it in her lap. Elation surged
through her, ridiculously out of proportion to the silliness of the task he’d
just performed.

She smiled and brushed damp hair back from his face. “Stand
up.”

He trembled so much he had to put a hand on the back of the
chair. Devonne stood then turned and pushed him into the chair. Disappointment
and irritation crossed his face. She peeled off the leather pants and climbed
onto the chair as well, kneeling so that she faced him, thighs spread with her
knees outside his legs.

Flames and Stars, he was gorgeous, even with sweat slicking
his skin and dampening his hair. Her cunt was so hot and tight. Cream poured
from her, mingling with the perspiration on his legs.

She kissed him as she shifted forward and up, wiggling her
way over his hard, quivering cock. She sank down, impaling herself on him.

“Devonne,” he moaned, burying his fists in her hair as she
slid up and down him. Deep, deep inside. Breaths huffed in and out of him in
loud bursts, growing harsher each time she impaled herself fully. Her cunt
clenched around him, jolting when his penis hit the pleasure spot. It took only
a few bounces to bring him to a roaring orgasm. She wound her fingers in his
hair and lifted herself again.

A few more bounces, and the spasms of an explosive climax
jolted through her as well, making her scream and hang onto him.

Devonne leaned into him, holding his penis inside her like a
treasure she didn’t want to lose. She rested her head on his shoulder and his
arms went around her. Together they gasped and panted their way back to calm.

She couldn’t imagine doing this with any other man in the
universe. Life would be emptier without him, but she’d have some incredible
memories.

* * * * *

On day nine, the lawyer looked very grim when he met her in
the dressing room. Devonne’s heart lurched.

“What is it?”

“A real challenge today. Possibly a real battle. You and
Raje have to fight a corbret. Since it will be totally intent on killing and
eating the two of you, you’ll have to either kill it or disable it completely.
They didn’t tell me what weapons you’ll have. No special clothes.”

“What’s a corbret?”

“One of the Creator’s most unattractive productions. A big
hairy slobbery thing. Cross between a really big, mean lion and a borgez. Not
as good-natured as either the lion or the borgez. However they’re dumb as
posts, so it’ll be your brains against its brawn.”

“I’d rather it were my beamer against its brawn, but I doubt
we’ll be that lucky.”

She was right. The Sangari guard handed her a sword and a
net as he escorted her out to the field. There was no ring or other equipment
on the field when she met Raje in the middle.

“You know anything about swords?” she asked him.

“You swing them and hope the blade hits something. Someone’s
been reading their ancient Earth history.”

“Or watching old Earth vids about gladiators. Hell. At least
the critter’s supposed to not be very bright.”

“Advantage us.”

But then the gate screeched up and the “critter” lumbered
out. All ten feet of length and seven feet of height of it. All six rows of
razor-sharp teeth. “Shit,” Devonne said. “It doesn’t need to be smart.”

“But
we
do.”

“Yup. Got any really smart ideas?”

“Run like hell?”

“Keep thinking.”

The creature had either seen or heard them and was rumbling
toward them. It opened its mouth and emitted a roar that would have intimidated
a rabid lion. It didn’t move quickly but its size meant it covered ground fast
anyway.

They slid to the side and ran to the other end of the field.
The creature turned and followed. When they sped away it turned and advanced on
them again. They let it chase them around for several minutes as they watched
it, hoping to see an obvious handicap. Nothing showed.

“I suspect it can outlast us,” Devonne said.

“Yeah. But we should be able to out-maneuver it. There are
two of us.”

“Keep going.”

“I was hoping you’d looked at the course chart.”

“All that occurs to me is that one of us could distract it
while the other…”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Search for a weak spot? It
worked before.”

“It’ll be a hell of a lot harder to find one on this thing.
I’m thinking more of a hack and slash approach. We take turns with one of us
distracting it while the other tries to get in a solid cut or stab.”

“I haven’t got a better plan.”

They spent the next half an hour or so doing just that. One
of them would try to lure the beast into paying attention to it, while staying
clear of the deadly teeth and claws. Meanwhile the other raced in, stabbed or
slashed at it and retreated just as hastily. By the end of that time they were
hot, tired and running out of energy. The creature bled from dozens of cuts but
it didn’t seem to have slowed noticeably. Raje’s arm was scratched when he’d
failed to dodge one rake of its claws.

“We can’t keep this up,” Devonne pointed out, while they
waited for the corbret to catch up to them again. Her chest burned from the
exertion and each breath hurt.

“Eyes,” Raje said. “We need to take out its eyes.”

“Gotta get past all those teeth to do it.”

Raje glanced around the arena. “Can you hold its attention
for a couple of minutes, and then draw it over there to the grate?” He pointed
to the barred gate that had slid upward to let the creature onto the field. The
Sangari had closed it again to keep anyone from retreating that way. It had
about ten vertical metal bars and three horizontal cross-bars.

“Raje, I don’t—”

“We’re running out of options.”

It scared the shit out of her. For the first time, fear that
they might not survive roused and shook her.

“All right.” She turned and kissed him hard before she moved
away and feinted toward the beast to draw its attention to her. Out of the
corner of her eye, she saw Raje head toward the grate. The corbret turned to
follow him. Devonne stepped toward it and jabbed until she had its attention
again.

Maneuvering it over to the grate so that it would be
positioned for Raje to make his move proved a tricky business. If she just ran
directly to it, she’d end up with herself between the man and the animal. She
had to circle around to get it to chase her past the grate.

Quick glances his way showed her when Raje reached the
barrier and climbed up to the highest horizontal bar. She continued to tease
and lead the corbret, making an arc that took her around the middle of the
field and angled toward the wall. One claw caught her shoulder in the process,
leaving a burning slash. Finally she reached the wall, ten feet from the grate,
turned to her right and led the creature past it. Raje held very still, hoping
to keep the corbret from noticing his presence until too late.

Devonne raced ahead. A strange, unhappy roar from the
creature told her Raje had made some kind of move. She turned back and sucked
in a harsh breath. Raje had leapt onto the corbret’s neck, grabbing a handful
of fur to hold onto when the creature attempted to shake him off. Her heart
stopped beating. Breath clotted in her throat for several long minutes as he battled
to stay aboard and position his sword for a downward thrust. She whispered
heartfelt prayers to the Creator.

The corbret rose up on its two hind legs, forcing Raje to
use both hands to stay on. It continued to toss its head, trying to shake him
off. In the process it exposed its chest and underbelly. Devonne saw the
opening. She raised her sword to chest level and wrapped both hands around the
handgrip. Holding it pointed out in front of her, she charged into the beast,
zigzagging to avoid claws, and drove the weapon as hard as she could into the
corbret’s chest. It sank deep, up to the hilt. Blood spattered her.

The creature’s furious roar grated on her nerves and made
her shake as she retreated. Claws groped blindly for the source of its agony.
One nearly raked her. She stepped back, out of reach, wiping her eyes.

The corbret swayed back and forth, still emitting that
horrible roar. She couldn’t find Raje in the mass of waving limbs and flying
fur. Her heart clenched and stomach twisted.
Where was he?

An earsplitting scream came from the creature, then it
slowly collapsed into a heap of fur and teeth and claws. Its moans gradually
faded. Devonne ran around it and found Raje, half pinned beneath one of the
monster’s gigantic rear legs. She heaved it up enough to let him slide out and
helped him stand.

They held onto each other while the crowd went berserk with
cheering and stomping.

“Have I told you yet that I love you?” Raje asked.

Relief made her so weak she almost collapsed. Instead she
plastered herself against him. “I’ll bet you say that to all the women who slay
corbrets for you.” The words came out breathy and unsteady.

“Nah, I reserve it for one special one. Devonne, seriously,
I want—”

The Sangari guards chose that inopportune moment to surround
them.

They watched each other for as long as they could while the
guards escorted them out opposite sides of the stadium. She treasured the look
in his eyes as they were parted. The love and admiration and gratitude found a
permanent place in a corner of her heart. He mouthed the words, “I love you,”
as he reached the far end.

* * * * *

Both lawyers waited in her dressing room the next day when
she arrived for the last of the challenges. She’d been fighting a crushing
sense of dread ever since she’d recovered enough from the previous day’s
challenge to start to wondering what this day would bring. Anything worse than
the battle with the corbret would probably defeat them.

It didn’t do her nerves any good when she heard the lawyers
arguing hotly, and they jangled even worse when the men saw her and lowered
their voices so she couldn’t hear their words.

She went right to them. “What is it?”

“Not good,” Whetlock said.

“Really not good,” the other one agreed.

“Another fight?”

Both nodded.

“To the death?”

They nodded again.

“What is it this time? They found something even nastier
than the corbret?”

The two men looked at each other. Whetlock sighed. “Not
another animal.”

“Machine?”

“No.”

Devonne’s stomach twisted and clenched. “Each other.” She
forced the words out. “We have to fight each other.”

“No.”

Relief had just started to settle in when Whetlock said,
“Another couple. The couple you had sex with a few days ago.

Chapter Eight

“Shit. They can’t be serious. I may barely know them, but we
made love with them. Now we’re supposed to kill them?”

“You only have to kill one. All four of you fight, until one
of the four of you is dead.”

“No.”

They both looked at her.

“There are limits. I won’t do it. I won’t kill one of them.”

“Raje said the same thing at first,” his lawyer said. “Then
he thought about it and asked me to give you a message. They wouldn’t give him
anything to write with, so I’m delivering it verbally. He asked me to tell you
he was going to do it and begged you would too. He has a plan. It might not work
and there’s some risk even if does, but he thinks it will work and you won’t
have to kill anyone. He asks you to trust him.”

Trust him
? In some things, maybe, but where his own
self-interests were on the line?

Devonne turned away as she struggled with her reaction.
Trust him. That was the core issue. She trusted him as a partner in battle or
in sex. She knew what he was capable of in those fields. But ever since she’d
learned who he really was, she hadn’t trusted him to make life-affecting
decisions for both of them. He was asking for that now. He’d been a
near-perfect partner so far in the challenges, even when it meant doing things
he despised. But winning in those had benefited him.

Winning this challenge would be in his own best interest,
too.

Could she trust that he understood her reservations and
respected them? And if he did, could she trust that he’d act in a way she’d
accept? Even if it put his own safety in jeopardy? Did she dare?

“He also promised that he’d let you make the final
decision,” the lawyer said.

“Word of the Creator, how do I make a choice like this?”

Neither of the two men could give her an answer. The Creator
wasn’t offering any opinions either. Only she could decide.

“Yes,” she said finally. “We’ll do it.” The Creator help
them all if she’d made the wrong decision.

The others nodded, though neither looked happy about the
situation.

“No special clothes,” Whetlock said. “I believe it’s going
to be knives again.”

The Sangari guard arrived for her. The lawyers both wished
her good luck. It would take more than that but a bit of luck wouldn’t hurt
either. She took the knife from the guard without paying much attention to it.

As usual Raje entered the field from the side opposite her
and the other couple on her right and left. For the first few minutes, though,
she had eyes only for Raje. Relief and gratitude showed on his features when he
caught sight of her then his expression turned grim.

The four of them met in the center of the ring with the
Sangari guards standing between them. She looked at Alden and Elissa, catching
them staring at each other in a private exchange of love and helpless fury. Her
own anger spiked. The next time she looked at them, all she saw was fear and
determination in their expressions. She sought Raje’s gaze, but she couldn’t
read anything there when she met his eyes.

The guards stepped back out of their way. One said, “Go,
now.”

For a moment, they all did nothing but stare at each other
and raise their knives into a ready position. Then the other couple moved fast.

The fight was short, fierce and ugly.

Devonne gave Alden and Elissa credit. They had a plan and it
wasn’t a bad one. They guessed they’d be overmatched and came up with an idea
to win quickly. As soon as the Sangari guards pulled back, both of them charged
straight at her, intent on taking her down fast.

It damn near worked, too, since Devonne wasn’t prepared to
have both of them come at her like that. Thank goodness, they underestimated
her quickness and agility. She dodged them both while stepping back and away.
She parried Alden’s feint and pushed Elissa off so hard the other woman almost
lost her balance and went down.

It gave Raje time to enter the fray. He took on the more
immediate threat of Alden, leaving Devonne to go after Elissa. Alden proved a tougher
opponent for Raje than either of them would have guessed, but the other woman
was no fighter. After a brief struggle, Devonne knocked away Elissa’s knife.
The woman continued to fight tenaciously but with no skill, trying to work
around Devonne’s weapon to scratch or gouge. In one small piece of luck, she
knocked Devonne’s arm hard enough to jar the knife from her hand and send it
flying across the field. With both of them weaponless, the advantage still went
to Devonne’s quickness and strength. Devonne grabbed the other woman, spun her
around and snaked an arm around her throat. Circling Elissa’s midsection with
her other arm, Devonne pinned her arms to her sides. She struggled but couldn’t
break the hold.

Give her credit. Elissa realized that since neither of them
had a weapon she was in no immediate danger. She didn’t call for aid from her
husband, made no attempt to distract him. In that assumption, she wasn’t
entirely correct. Devonne felt sure she could snap the woman’s neck if she had
to. Or perhaps Elissa did know that, too, and calculated more accurately
Devonne’s unwillingness to do so.

Raje and Alden were joined in a more desperate battle,
bodies close, knife hands locked together over their heads and arms straining
for leverage. Their struggle brought them around in an arc that granted both
men a view of the two women. Alden broke off the fight with Raje and sped
toward Elissa. Raje followed right behind.

When Alden reached between the two women to try to free his
wife, it gave Raje the opening he needed. A quick chop across the hand sent
Alden’s knife sailing away. Raje then pulled the other man backward and sent
him rolling to the ground. Alden lay on his stomach, winded. Raje settled a
boot on his neck to hold him there. He held the knife in his right hand, poised
for a devastating, downward thrust. The crowd roared its approval.

Elissa screamed and started to struggle, clawing and
flailing to get out of Devonne’s hold to reach her husband.

Devonne held her tight, wondering how she’d feel if that
were Raje on the ground about to be impaled.

Time slowed as Devonne held the woman and looked over at
Raje. Would he truly plunge the knife down into the other man? The crowd
chanted for him to deliver the blow.

Raje stood a moment, catching his breath, then he glanced at
the man below and looked up at Devonne. He waited. Waited for her verdict.

She shook her head. Everything else retreated to the
background as her awareness centered entirely on Raje. What would he do?

He nodded acceptance.

All but maddened with fury and despair, Elissa clawed at
Devonne’s arms and tried to bite her way out of the hold.

“Stop!” Devonne told the woman. “Be quiet and we may all get
out of this with our lives yet. It’s
his
only
chance
.” She nodded
toward Alden, who also struggled fruitlessly to crawl out from under Raje’s
leg.

When Raje brought the knife down on Alden’s back, Devonne’s
heart clenched and sudden raging fury stabbed through her.

Before the shock wore off, however, she realized he’d merely
pricked the man’s shoulder, just enough to draw a bead of blood.

Raje held up the blood-stained knife for the crowd to see,
raising it high in the air, pointed upward. He raised his other arm as well.

“You have his blood,” he shouted, loud enough for the
microphones to pick up at high volume. The crowd screamed and stomped.

“You have his blood,” Raje repeated. “Is it enough?” His
shouted words held some plea, but more triumphant acclamation.

Elissa and Alden both stopped struggling. The crowd quieted,
considering his question. They’d been promised death. Would they settle for
blood?

If it worried Raje, he gave no sign as he spoke again.
“You’ve watched us today and these past nine days. You know what we can do.
Have we not entertained you well?”

The crowd roared approval. “We have,” Raje agreed. “Now you
see I have this man’s life in my hands. But his blood is on my knife and that
is enough for me. We are humans. We may take each other’s lives out of
necessity, but we do
not
take them for sport!”

The crowd quieted, waiting. Devonne held her breath.

“I ask you again now, have we entertained you well?” The
crowd cheered. “Very well?” Again the crowd agreed with a roaring frenzy of
stomping and whistling. “Then I ask you this.
Give me my victory
!”

The crowd’s noise swelled even further, to levels she
wouldn’t have believed possible. Her ears began to hurt.

Flames and Powers, the man was incredible. Who else would
even try to manipulate a huge stadium full of aliens?

“Hell, no wonder the Gambrian people adore him and the royal
authorities don’t,” Devonne muttered.

In a box that partly overhung the field, a large Sangari
rose. The crowd roared again. When the Sangari raised his arms, though, they
quieted abruptly. Their leader, she presumed.

The Sangari waited until the place became eerily quiet
compared to the frenzy of just moments before. “We agree you have given us good
entertainment. You’ve proved yourself a worthy warrior in battle and in mating.
The Sangari salute you and grant you victory.”

The crowd went into another orgy of cheering and stomping.

Raje stepped off his opponent and turned. He bowed to the
Sangari leader, gracefully and very low. After he straightened, he held up his
arms again to request silence and waited for it. “Your Esteemed Majesty, my
heartfelt gratitude for the boon. You truly show the greatness of the Sangari
spirit in granting this, and my people will long recall your generosity.
Because Your Greatness has shown yourself so worthy and so full of all that is
admirable and honorable among the Sangari, I dare venture another request.
Grant the boon of victory to this couple also. They’ve fought with courage and
determination against odds greater than they knew. They, too, are worthy of
victory.”

The crowd cheered, though not so loudly as before, while
their leader hesitated. Finally he raised his arms again and said, “We grant
this also. We beg the Gambrian House will bear in mind our generosity.”

Raje bowed again. “We will not forget.”

Alden stood up. Devonne released Elissa, who raced into his
arms. Devonne went straight to Raje.

They had little time to embrace each other, however, before
an award ceremony commenced. Sangari guards, now dressed in rainbow-hued tunics
over black trousers, led each of them to a small stool and helped them up. The
guards presented each of them with a bright orange leaf the size of her hand, a
necklace of rancid-smelling flowers and a piece of parchment paper covered with
Sangari script. She hoped it proclaimed her a free woman, quit of all debt to
the Sangari.

When the ceremony concluded, the man in the box stood. The
Sangari guards on the field retreated and Jason Whetlock ran to meet her. He
congratulated her and Raje on their victory and Raje’s daring appeal. Alden and
Elissa also embraced them and offered profuse thanks. Tears ran freely down
Elissa’s face and even Alden’s eyes showed suspiciously bright.

Raje’s own lawyer didn’t appear right away, but came in as
various Sangari officers and guardsmen were congratulating them. The lawyer’s
serious expression stood out among the exuberance of everyone else. It
unsettled her. The troupe of four other grim-faced men with him added to the
gloom.

“Your Highness?” One of those men said, drawing Raje’s
attention. “Might we have a private word with you?”

Raje looked askance at them, until he met his lawyer’s eyes
and the man nodded.

“Would you excuse me for a minute?” he asked before he went
to them and conferred with the group. It took more than a minute, but not much
more. His face, too, was grim, when he returned to her.

“Devonne, I need to go with them back to Gambria, right now.
My father died last night.”

“Oh, Powers. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” he admitted. “We didn’t agree on much of anything
and we weren’t close, but still… I’ll never have a chance to try to work things
out with him. Not that it was likely, but…” He stopped and swallowed. “I hate
to leave right now, when there’s so much we need to say to each other.”

“This is more important for now,” she said. “Go with them.
We’ll talk later.”

She’d said that to him once before, and it hadn’t happened.
Her fault, then. Would she have a chance to fulfill the promise this time? A
chill of foreboding shook her.

He pulled her to him and kissed her hard before he walked
out of the arena with his lawyer and the group of Gambrian officials.

The Sangari arranged for her return to her ship, dropping
Alden and Elissa off at a terminus where they could get transport back to their
own world.

* * * * *

She didn’t see Raje again, but she followed the news vids
from Gambria. Reporters informed the universe of the death of the first heir
and the return to their world of The Rebel Prince, the former second heir, now
first heir. The funeral was a solemn event lasting most of a day and night.
Since the Gambrian royals wore face-shrouding gear in public, she didn’t get a
good view of him. But she listened hungrily to every word spoken about him, and
there were plenty of those. Reports on his period of mourning for this father,
rehashes of discussions and negotiations with the current regime and finally
the newsflash that he’d been granted the council chair normally held by the
first heir.

To Devonne, it sounded like a death knell for any future
relationship with him.

The news discussions turned to speculation about a marital
alliance for the first heir. Those confirmed her belief that any relationship
she had with him would be limited to brief, occasional, and likely illicit
meetings. Because she didn’t think she could take that, she ignored the two
messages he sent, some months later, asking to talk with her.