Chosen (3 page)

Cassandra turned to her and smiled. “By the way, welcome to Earth.”

Chapter Three

Where was Tallon?

Shayla hadn’t seen him since they were separated at the foot of the hill over twenty-four hours ago. Tallon had been driven away in a metal vehicle—she’d ridden in the huge flying bubble that had nearly attacked them. It had not been an enjoyable experience.

But she’d learned a lot from Cassandra during the journey. This world was so different—no magic here, only technology, which seemed like magic to Shayla—vehicles that flew in the air, computers, televisions, and more people than she had ever realized could exist. All piled on top of each other in buildings that reached up to the sky.

They had treated her well, given her food and a room with the most comfortable bed Shayla had ever come across. She’d lain awake for a long while, wondering where Tallon was, how he was. But she could sense he was close and had finally managed to fall into an exhausted sleep. When she woke, it was to find her door locked, and as the day wore on, she’d grown increasingly impatient. Now, her brain was going to explode with frustration if someone didn’t come soon.

She wanted to see Tallon. No, it was more than that. The need to find him gnawed relentlessly at her insides. She didn’t understand why, but she couldn’t deny it.

Finally, Cassandra came to her. Shayla studied her warily. Cassandra had assured her that they meant her no harm—she was one of them—but still, she didn’t entirely trust the other woman.

Cassandra threw a bundle of clothes towards her. “Get dressed.”

Shayla slipped out of her shift and struggled into the strange clothes.

“Where’s Tallon?” she asked.

Cassandra studied her, head tilted to one side, brows drawing together. “What is it with you and the Warlock? You say he was sent to kill you, but you seem concerned about him.”

Shayla lifted one shoulder and tried to appear nonchalant. She didn’t want to go into her feelings for Tallon. She knew it would sound pathetic put into words.
I’ve had a crush on him since I was twelve, and he rescued my best friend.
It sounded feeble, even to her.

“Mind you,” Cassandra said, “he is gorgeous. I’ve one or two ideas about what to do with him myself.” She slanted a smile at Shayla. “Let’s wait and see if we can get him to cooperate. Maybe we’ll get our own pleasure slave.”

Shayla bit back the urge to shout, “Hands off, he’s mine!” but Cassandra had already turned away. Besides, Tallon was no more hers than he was Cassandra’s.

She led Shayla to a small box that carried them swiftly downwards until they were deep underground. The light was bright even here, strips illuminating gray walls. A ripple of unease ran through her as she followed Cassandra down the long, bare corridor. The weight of the building above pressed down on her. Shayla wanted to be up in the clear air again, but the need to see Tallon drove her on.

“Is he okay?” she asked.

“I’m not sure about ‘okay’. Rachel has been questioning him, and she doesn’t like Warlocks. None of us do, for that matter. But he is conscious, and he’s refusing to speak until he’s seen that we haven’t done something unpleasant to you.”

At the words, a warmth uncoiled deep inside Shayla. She wanted to analyze the feeling, but Cassandra had come to a halt in front of a metal door. Opening it, she gestured to Shayla to enter. The small, bare room was empty except for Tallon. Shayla gasped. He was kneeling naked against the far wall, his wrists shackled to a chain that stretched them high above him. His head fell forward, his long black hair curtained his face.

“Well,” Cassandra purred, “isn’t that pretty and waiting on his knees to serve us?”

Shayla stared at him. He was beautiful, his long body lithe but sleekly muscled, his skin pale, shadowed with dark, silky hair on his chest and belly. His sex hung heavy between his thighs. But as she continued to study him, she noticed other things. Dark red discolorations marked his skin from chest to his groin.

She whirled around to glare at Cassandra. “What have you done to him?”

“Taser, by the look of it. But don’t worry, it’s not permanent.”

Shayla’s insides clenched as she saw the evidence of his pain. She bit back the need to lash out at the ones who had done this, to scream at Cassandra to release him. Instead, she forced her breathing to slow. She couldn’t afford to lose her temper; she needed to understand what was going on.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“Well, you see, Witches have been escaping to Earth for a thousand years. We’ve always been safe here. Then you show up with a Warlock in tow. We have to be sure this isn’t some sort of plot to follow us here and destroy us all. But he’s tough—I don’t think he’ll break.” She slanted a smile at Shayla. “You know, Rachel thinks we might do better getting the truth from him if we torture you instead.”

Shayla had thought him unconscious, but at Cassandra’s words, he raised his head. His violet eyes were dark, glazed with pain, but they had lost that unfocused look. They flickered from Cassandra to her, widening as he took in her changed appearance.

He slowly rose to his feet. “Leave her alone,” he growled.

Pride rose up inside her at his words. Even naked and chained, he radiated raw power. She could see the male arrogance in his expression, and she knew then that they could kill him, but they would never break him. She squared her shoulders and swung around to face Cassandra. “So, do you plan to torture me?”

“Of course not, you’re one of us. But him”—Cassandra waved a hand towards Tallon—”he’s different. Most of the women here have suffered because of his kind. They want to kill him now. But I’ve been doing some thinking and it really depends on how well he cooperates.” She crossed the room to stand in front of him, reaching out a hand to stroke her fingers down his chest, scraping her nails across the masculine nipple. He tensed at the touch, his muscles locking. Her hand drifted lower, across his taut belly and she cupped his sex in her palm. She turned to Shayla. “He’s very well-endowed, isn’t he?”

Shayla wanted to scream at her to stop, but at the same time, she couldn’t turn away. She glanced at his face. A dull flush shadowed his cheekbones; his jaw was rigid. She peered down, and his cock twitched in the other woman’s hand. Cassandra stroked the hardening erection, teasing the silky skin, squeezing her fingers around the growing length.

Her lips curled up in a pleased smile. “Very obedient, isn’t he? A good little Warlock. Maybe we’ll let him live, after all.”

Tallon struggled to move away, but he was held immobile by the chains. “Get your hands off me,” he said, his voice filled with menace.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “Or else? Besides, wouldn’t you like the chance to find out what it feels like to lie with a woman?” She turned again to Shayla. “He’s a virgin, you know. They’re all virgins except for some of the elders who are chosen to breed. They’re not allowed to actually take a woman. Oh, they have the pleasure slaves to suck their cocks, but sex is a complete no-no.” She stroked him again, and he flinched against the unwelcome touch. “What a waste.”

Fully aroused now, his thick, long shaft arched up against his flat belly.

Shayla glanced back to his face. His eyes briefly locked with hers, then slid lower to stroke over her body in the tight clothes, lingering on her breasts, the length of her legs, then back to her face, growing hot. Shayla studied him in return, unable to turn away. Heat rose in her body, her flesh swollen and sensitive, a sudden dampness between her thighs. She pressed them tight together and saw him follow the small, telltale movement, his nostrils flaring as though he could scent her arousal.

Cassandra faded from the room, as every sense focused on Tallon. A connection forged between them, and the word echoed in her head.

“Mine.”

Chapter Four

“Well, well.” Cassandra cut through the link between them. “What is it with you two?”

The spell was broken. Tallon glanced down to see her hand still circling his cock, and a shiver of revulsion ran through him.

“Get your hand off me.”

Her grip tightened painfully. Then she shrugged and released him.

She turned to Shayla. “When Rachel brought him in here, do you know what the first thing he said was? ‘Where’s the witch? Don’t hurt her.’ Isn’t that sweet? And quite strange for a man intent on killing you. Isn’t that what your job was, Warlock? To murder a young and innocent witch who never did The Order any harm.”

Doubts crowded Tallon’s mind. He remembered his first sight of Shayla, the urge to protect, the sense of rightness that had swept over him when she had performed the moon magic. But those feelings went against everything he had ever been taught. He gritted his teeth. “We do it for the good of Arroway.”

“Oh, come on,” Cassandra drawled. “You’re not still buying into that load of crap, are you?”

His eyes narrowed on her. Whatever uncertainties he held, he could not refute the truth of the Laws of Segregation. “The Witches have the power to annihilate us all. Would you deny it?”

Cassandra pursed her lips, head tilted to one side as she studied him. “No. But then, so do the Warlocks, and I don’t see you stripping yourselves of your powers.”

Tallon knew she spoke the truth—in their own way, Warlocks were just as dangerous as Witches. But Tallon had grown up within The Order, and for a long time, he had believed all that he was told. As he’d gotten older, seen more of the world, the doubts had crept into his mind. But was he ready to cast aside all his early beliefs?

He felt as though he teetered on some sort of precipice—the world, as he knew it, lay behind him safe, secure. Before him, lay a new world filled with uncertainties, danger, and wild, uncontrollable magic. It called to him, and the truth was, he wanted nothing more than to leap forward into the unknown.

Shayla stood, gnawing on her lower lip. She met his eyes and a wave of emotion washed over him; needing and wanting all mixed up with an urge to keep her safe, to protect.

He shook his head and glanced away, he had to think clearly, and Shayla had the power to cloud his thoughts. “The Warlocks may have the power to destroy the world,” he said to Cassandra. “But we have discipline. The formality of our rituals prevents us from acting on whim. Witches wield the moon magic. They nearly destroyed the very fabric of the world.”

“Not they. One Witch, only one acting alone.” Cassandra’s voice was harsh. “Should all Witches suffer for that one mistake? On the actions of one woman, mad with grief, The Order consigned all Witches to mutilation or death.”

“They are not mutilated. They are cared for by The Order.” But even as he spoke, the doubts rose up inside him.

“If you still believe that, you’re a fool,” Cassandra snarled. “Female children born to The Order undergo magical castration at birth, their magic ripped from their very souls. Many die during the process, others are left damaged, bewildered, to live out the rest of their lives as slaves to The Order.” Her face twisted into an expression of scorn. “And if they’re really lucky, they get to be pleasure slaves. Get the chance to suck your precious cocks. What do you think goes through their minds as they kneel before you, Warlock? Do you think they appreciate the honor?”

“Stop it,” Shayla cried. “He’s not like that!”

Tallon glanced at her in surprise. His little witch was championing him. Why?

“They’re all like that,” Cassandra drawled. “Ask your mother. How many years did she spend on her knees before The Order?”

“Tallon’s different.”

“Of course he is.”

“It’s true,” Shayla said. “He saves them.”

“Saves who?”

“The pleasure slaves.”

A ripple of shock ran through him. How did she know that?

“My friend, Leah, was a slave for The Order. Tallon found her trying to end her life.”

Tallon remembered it well. It had been the start of his concerns. Up until that point, he had believed the pleasure slaves content to serve The Order. Discovering that Leah would rather die than continue to serve them had been a shock that had woken him from his complacent existence. But instead of questioning their way of life, he had sought the one job that would give him a measure of freedom and pushed the uncertainties to the back of his mind. He’d been a coward not to confront the Order, not to question them.

“He didn’t report her,” Shayla continued. “He listened to her and helped her escape. I was there, I saw him. And she told me what happened. That was nine years ago and there have been others since.”

Cassandra turned to him. “Is this true, Warlock?”

If The Order ever found out, Tallon would be punished. But what was the chance of that happening? What was the chance of him even getting out of here alive? And if he did escape, did he truly believe that he could ever go back to The Order now when there was no way he could fulfill his mission to destroy Shayla?

“They were no danger to The Order, they had no magic.”

Cassandra paced the room, deep in thought. Finally, she spoke. “It makes no difference. They were probably no more than a sop for your guilt.” She came back to stand in front of him. “But maybe we can give you a way to make up for it.”

Tallon watched her in silence. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this.

“What do you plan to do with him?” Shayla asked.

Cassandra’s lips curled into a slow smile. “We’re going to breed from him.”

Tallon felt his mouth drop open. It was the last thing he’d expected. “What?”

“Do you understand the reasoning behind your vows?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, but spoke to Shayla. “A Warlock mating with a Witch, even a latent one such as the pleasure slaves, produces potential Witches and Warlocks. The Order wants to control the breeding and hence the vows. So we’ll do our own breeding program. We’re going to breed Witches. Maybe if they’re born on this world, they will be able to use the Earth’s power as we used the power of Arroway.”

“He’ll never submit,” Shayla said. Tallon could hear the certainty in her voice and it warmed something deep inside him.

Cassandra folded her arms across her chest. “Well, you see, that’s the good thing about this world—he doesn’t need to. We’ll milk him of his seed and use technology to impregnate as many of us who desire it.” She looked at Shayla, one eyebrow raised. “You can be part of that.”

Shayla shook her head. “I told you. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I can’t stay here. I have to go back to Arroway.”

“You can’t go back,” Cassandra said. “Our magic here is too weak—you don’t have the power to make the return journey. A Warlock might do it. Their magic does not rely on drawing on the strength of Arroway as ours does. But forget it, there’s no point in going back. Arroway is dying.”

Tallon glanced at her sharply. “What?”

“It’s ironic, The Order claim they destroy Witches for the safety of Arroway, when in fact, it is that very destruction which is leeching the land of power. Witches draw power from the land, but the land also gains from the Witches, and neither can exist without the other.”

Tallon’s whole world tilted, his mind reeling in shock. Could it be true? But her words spoke to some truth deep inside him, crystallizing the doubts that had plagued him for so long.

It made so much sense.

The Order blamed the Witches for Arroway’s slow decline, and it was obvious that something was destroying their world. It was the one thing that had kept Tallon from a total break with The Order—the belief that they acted as they did to save Arroway. But the Witches were all but wiped out, had been for years and yet there was no respite for their world.

Cassandra turned to Shayla. “No, you must reconcile yourself to staying. You can have a good life here.”

“You don’t understand. I have to find my mother.”

“Forget your mother.”

“I can’t forget her. I have to find her before The Order does.”

“It’s too late,” Tallon said softly.

She swung around to face him. “What do you mean?”

“It’s too late for your mother. I delivered her to The Order the day before yesterday.”

He watched as the knowledge sank in, saw the horror dawning in her eyes. Pain and guilt warred inside him.

“What will they do with her?” she whispered.

Cassandra answered. “They’ll kill her, of course. Probably torture her first, in case she knows anything that might be of use. Isn’t that so, Warlock?”

He suspected she was right. The Order could be ruthless in observance of the laws, and Shayla’s mother had flouted them and managed to stay free for more than twenty years. They couldn’t allow that to go unpunished. He’d known that when he handed the woman over, but he’d still believed he’d had a duty to The Order, to Arroway.

Shayla peered up at him, her expression pleading. “Tallon, is it true?”

His guilt flared again. The Order had been his whole life, and this had just been one more job, or so he’d thought until he met Shayla. Now, he wanted to lie, to save her the pain, but he found he couldn’t keep the truth from her. She deserved to know what he had done. He nodded.