Mercenaries (18 page)

Then Zaria led him to just what he was looking for: the guardsmen's barracks. While she conducted a surprise inspection, Sebastian did a rough estimate of guard strength based on the number of bunks he counted.

As he trailed behind her wearing his best guileless expression, Zaria tore through the men's quarters, flipping open lockers, pulling swords from scabbards to check for rust, and generally sending the noncoms into a tizzy.

By the time she finished ripping strips off those who needed it, Sebastian felt much more confident in his manpower estimate, though not particularly pleased with the results. There were three hundred guardsmen altogether, far more than even he cared to take on by himself.

As he meditated on that disconcerting fact, the noncoms vanished to do their own strip-ripping, and he and Zaria headed for the door.

Suddenly she stopped in her tracks and glanced around. Preoccupied with his calculations, it took Sebastian a moment to realize she was reacting to low, feminine moans and male gasps.

Zaria turned and headed down a short corridor, following the soft, intimate sounds. Sebastian grinned and sauntered after her. Obviously, she meant to catch some fornicating guardsmen in the act.

She froze in the next doorway and stood staring inside, so tense she almost vibrated. Curious, Sebastian moved closer and glanced in over her shoulder.

Two guardsman had a pretty blond Thralline bent over a chair, wrapped in an intricate arrangement of ropes. One of them was pumping in and out of her from behind, while the other fucked her mouth.

“Oh, come on, Cherese, you can take more of it than that,” the man said, with a low, dark laugh. “Relax your throat.”

The blonde made a strangled, moaning sound of submission. He sank another inch deeper.

Grinning, Sebastian waited for Zaria to chew the three out for goldbricking. Instead, she whirled and hurried down the corridor, almost colliding with him in her haste. For a moment, she met his gaze, hers vague with startled arousal. A furious blush flooded her cheekbones before she ducked her head and slipped past him without so much as a snotty command to get out of the way.

Sebastian blinked and used his computer implant to do a quick scan of her retreating back. It confirmed what he'd glimpsed.

Zaria had found something wildly arousing in the sight of the blond being dominated.

I'll be damned, my little mistress has a submissive streak.
A hot grin of anticipation rolled over his face.
Well, isn't that interesting?

SEBASTIAN was still mulling the delicious implications of Zaria's erotic tastes when she unwittingly led him right where he most wanted to go.

When they stepped inside the soaring chamber, he first took it for yet another of the palace's pretty sitting rooms. The marble floor was covered in brilliant, jewel-toned rugs, while colorful tapestries depicted naked men writhing in blended agony and pleasure.

The furniture was made of some delicate white wood picked out in gold leaf and upholstered in the same jewel tones as the rugs. The arching ceilings were supported by the usual thick white columns.

But then he noticed something different about each of those supports—a strange projection sticking out from the base, thrusting upward at an angle. Eyeing one, he realized the projection was a rather intimidating dildo.

For a moment Sebastian thought the false cocks must be intended for female pleasure. Then he noticed the rings embedded in the column's surface, presumably to accommodate shackles. He winced and hoped Zaria wouldn't take it into her head to chain him to one of them.

“Hello, Sister.” Sebastian turned at the petulant voice to find Marcelle lounging sullenly in the corner on a pile of thick pillows. A bottle sat on a low table by her elbow.

Great, Bitch Sister had been drinking. This was going to get ugly.

That prediction proved true as she looked up at Zaria with something nasty flickering in her gaze. “What, out of the bedroom already, and you with a new Thrall?” Contempt dripped from Marcelle's voice. “What's the matter—couldn't he get it up?”

Deigning to address Sebastian, she added, “Don't feel bad. Her Thralls usually can't. She's too soft and spineless to get them hard.”

“Strange,” Sebastian drawled, knowing he should keep his mouth shut. “I didn't have any problem with that.”

Zaria shot him a warning look. “In any case, Marcelle . . .”

Before she could get the rest of the sentence out of her mouth, a man bellowed, “I said no! Kill me and be damned—I'll not bend a knee to any Domme bitch!”

Sebastian went still, staring at the closed door the cry had come from. Oh, now, that sounded interesting. Ferrau?

Before he could invent an excuse to investigate, the door opened. The Dominess stalked out and slammed it behind her. “That stubborn, arrogant little—” She broke off and began to pace the chamber.

Sebastian concentrated on doing absolutely nothing to draw attention to himself. He'd already noticed these people had a tendency to treat Thralls as furniture. With any luck, they'd let him spy in peace.

“Let me have him,” Marcelle said into the thrumming tension, sipping languidly from her goblet. “I'll bring him to heel for you.”

“No, thank you,” Ila growled. “You'd have us at war in a fortnight.”

“Not if the Dominor doesn't find out about it.” Bitch Sister's smile was chilling.

“Do you honestly think you could hide something like that?” Zaria demanded. “The minute he saw the scars you like to leave . . .”

Marcelle shrugged. “We'll just tell him Arnoux liked it.”

“And what's Arnoux going to say?”

“Anything I tell him to.”

Zaria threw up her hands. “You have no understanding of him at all! He is a Dom, not a Thrall, and you'll never make him anything else no matter how you beat him.”

“I will.” The Dominess's eyes narrowed and hardened. “That bastard Dominor dared say
my
daughter is unnatural and perverted. Well, we'll see who is unnatural.”

“Everyone knows the Dominess has only one perverted daughter,” Marcelle murmured into her goblet. “And it's not I.”

Zaria stiffened at the dig. Sebastian lifted a brow, waiting for the explosion.

It didn't come. Instead she turned toward the Dominess. “This is madness, Mother, and you know it. Return Arnoux to his father before you plunge us into war.”

“No!” Ila slashed her hand through the air. “We've come too far. It's war one way or another. But I'll have that boy's submission, if it's with my dying breath.”

“But why?” Zaria demanded hotly. “Why court an unnecessary war simply because Ferrau refused to agree to a wedding between Arnoux and Marcelle? Why risk the destruction of us all?”

“It's not an unnecessary war, Zaria!” Ila whirled on her, a snarl curling her mouth. “Marcelle is my heir! One day she'll be Dominess of Orva. To slight her is to slight our very dominality, our people and our power! If we ignore such a grievous insult, we'll look weak in the eyes of our enemies—enemies I fear far more than Xarles Ferrau. By breaking his son, I will demonstrate to any who doubt that we are a power to be reckoned with.”

“Only if we win the war, Mother,” Zaria said quietly. “Otherwise, we'll have brought down on our own heads the very destruction you fear.”

Marcelle's slurred voice sounded from the corner. “You waste your time, Mother. Zaria will never understand.” She lifted her head and curled her lip. “Submission is in her blood.”

“And stupid viciousness is in yours!” Zaria snapped, both fists lifted in fury. “If you'd been less bloodthirsty, the Domince would be in your marriage bed instead of a Thrall's chains. And none of us would be in this predicament!”

“Better a little fire than spinelessness.” Marcelle threw her goblet aside and rolled to her feet, her gaze suddenly sharp and clear.

Sebastian tensed as she loomed over Zaria. Had her drunkenness been feigned to lure her sister into some kind of duel?

“That's enough, Marcelle!” The snap in Ila's voice brought the Domina up short, eyes glittering with frustration.

Warning gaze fixed on Marcelle, Ila asked, “How went your inspection of the palace this morn, Zaria?”

It seemed Mother Dear wanted to change the subject. Smart woman.

With a savage curse, Marcelle flung herself out of the room. Sebastian relaxed. That was when he realized he'd been willing to blow his own cover to protect Zaria from her lunatic sister.

When had the little Domina gotten under his skin?

S
EBASTIAN managed to keep his mouth shut as Zaria mechanically reported the results of her inspections to her mother.

He maintained that careful silence at the noon meal that followed. Dutifully, he stood behind her chair like all the other Thralls and Thrallines, stepping forward to eat from her hand when she summoned him. It all would have made him feel like an exceptionally large Pekingese, if he hadn't been so busy trying to decide how to turn this twist to his advantage.

By the time they'd disposed of both the rest of her duties and started on the evening meal, he'd mapped out a plan to secure the Domince's freedom. He'd even pinpointed a couple of potential escape routes.

All he needed now was an opportunity.

As the serving Thralls bustled around with their trays, Sebastian used his internal com to reestablish communications with Nathan and his party. The mercenaries had withdrawn into the hills just beyond the palace's immediate environs to await his signal.

Nathan listened as Sebastian detailed his plans.

“Sounds good,”
the captain commed finally.
“I'll transport a combat force down from the
Starrunner
and have them ready to back you up when you give the word.”

“Give 'em all the copy of Zaria's vidshot I sent you,”
Sebastian told him.
“I don't want any of them hurting her by mistake.”

“You like this girl, don't you?”
Trin asked suddenly.

“Of course he does,”
Nathan said.
“Did you see that bust-line?”

“Hey, Zaria's more than the sum of her cleavage,”
Sebastian told them, glowering.
“She's bright, she's got guts, and she actually cares about her people. Which is more than the rest of her family can say. She . . .”

The com carried Nathan's hoot of astonishment.
“My God, he sounds like he's halfway in love.”

Heat flooded Sebastian's face for the first time in decades.
“Don't be ridiculous. I'm only interested in the tits.”

“I thought you said she was more than cleavage,”
Trin challenged.

“I lied,”
he said firmly, and stepped forward to accept a bite of fruit from Zaria's slim fingers.

Her smile made something turn over in his chest.

ZARIA walked into her quarters rubbing the knots of tension gathered in the base of her neck. She was only vaguely aware that Searle and Sebastian had entered after her. She was far too preoccupied with worry for her mother and the dominality.

Ila stubbornly refused to acknowledge that she'd put them on the road to destruction with her determination to tame the Domince. And Marcelle, vicious bitch that she was, was equally determined to take revenge on Arnoux for his father's rejection.

The two of them are going to be the death of that boy,
she thought, pacing the room in long strides.
But, what in the name of the Ten Gods am I going to do about it?

Suddenly Sebastian stepped up behind her, so close she could feel the heat of his body. “Get rid of your watchdog,” he breathed in her ear. “If you dare.”