The Novice Prey & the Daring Prey (27 page)

“Well,” Alexa took another long sip, drawing the moment out. “I started out this morning on the stage out of Gordburg. I got out at the first dinky little town on the route and I've been traveling on foot ever since.”

“On FOOT?” one of the other men exclaimed. “You sure you've been here before?”

“Yeah, she's been here before.” The new speaker was tall, heavyset and wore a battered black slouch hat. “I saw her. All of her. You were in that special competition last year, weren't you?” he challenged.

“Yes, I was,” Alexa nodded.

“Knew it,” the man said. “Couldn't forget that hair. You won it too, didn'tcha?” He grinned broadly, showing unexpectedly white teeth.

“Yes, I did,” Alexa nodded again. “And then I found out that I'd beaten the unofficial record of some little blonde who called herself Elf-Girl. Any of you gentlemen know anything about her?”

A couple of the men laughed. “I saw her,” one spoke up. “The guy who caught her put her on display one afternoon so that anybody who wanted could have a look at her. Pretty little thing she was. Hasn't been back since.”

“I understand she raised quite a ruckus when she was here,” Alexa said. She was enjoying being the center of so much male attention. Even the heavyset man staring at her and obviously remembering her naked in her cage didn't bother her. Well, this was Gordburg.

“That she did,” one man admitted. “Even managed to turn a couple of other females loose before she got caught.”

“Well,” Alexa said after a deep draught of her ice water, “I came back hoping to break her official record.”

“That'll be kind of hard to do, what with you making such a splash about it.” Alexa looked up at the sound of a new voice, deep and gravelly. She saw her two unsuccessful pursuers saunter into the saloon. They looked dusty, probably from falling.

“Thanks for the advice,” Alexa smiled. “Can I buy you two gentlemen a beer? You gave me a real scare there.”

“Coffee suits us better,” the taller man said as he moved through the small crowd, which parted for him. He pulled up a chair and sat down at Alexa's table. His companion did the same. They looked at Alexa across the space of the table, and their gazes made her feel just a bit uncomfortable. To hide that, she signaled for the saloon's lone waitress, a cute brown-haired young woman in an old dance hall costume to come over. When she did, Alexa asked for three coffees, cream and sugar on the side, and then turned her attention back to those two men. The other men began drifting away to other tables, but stayed close enough to listen in on the conversation.

“Who might you fellows be?” Alexa asked them.

“We're the Anderson brothers,” the tall, gravelly-voiced one replied. “We come here every year. Got kind of a little business capturing females, giving them a little bit of training, and putting them up for auction. We always split the take with them. I think you'd fetch a really nice price.”

Alexa couldn't help giggling at such a peculiar offer. “Thanks,” she said, shaking her head. “But I'm not in this for the money. I'm just trying to beat an old record.”

“Why?” the shorter Anderson asked.

“Why not?” Alexa countered. “Why do you two do what you do?”

“Actually, there's three of us,” the gravel-voiced one said. “We were going to meet our brother back there when we spotted you. We didn't think you'd be so hard to run down. What are you, some kind of athlete?”

“Personal trainer,” Alexa shrugged. The Anderson brothers didn't seem impressed. The coffee came, and for a moment there was no conversation.

“What's your name again?” the gravel-voiced one asked.

“Alexa Marx. That's Marx with an 'X'.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you set us back half a day with your little act. We've got to go back and meet our brother, but we would surely like to run into you again.”

“Like I ran into your brother there?” Alexa couldn't help taunting them a little as she nodded towards the man she'd knocked down.

“Thank you for the coffee, ma'am,” the gravel-voiced Anderson said. With that, he and his brother got up and moseyed out of the saloon. At least, they walked the way that Alexa always thought 'moseyed' meant: Just a mite slower than walking speed, with an air of confidence that was almost tangible. Neither of them looked back, and Alexa wondered if she hadn't pushed things too far with her last comment. Well, it was too late to take it back now, and she was hungry. She looked around for the waitress.

Sometime later, feeling pleasantly full, she exited the saloon, looking for the trading post, or general store, or emporium, or whatever they called it here. She'd originally thought to grab a quick bite here and leg it for the next hamlet down the line, but her encounter with the Anderson boys had taken too much out of her for her to do that now. She hadn't sent anything along on the stage for her to pick up here, and what she was wearing was too dirty and dusty for her. As long as she had that chip in her earlobe, though, she could buy anything she needed. Right now, she needed a change of clothes, followed by some quiet time to think about what she should do next. She saw a rambling wooden building with a sign over it that read 'General Store', and went on in.

It took only a minute for her to discover that her shopping choices were pretty limited. She could get any kind of pants she wanted as long as they were jeans, and any kind of shirt she wanted so long as it came in one of three or four styles. Socks came in white cotton only, so did underwear. It was only a step and a half up from roughing it the way she'd had to when she visited Will. The only advantage to shopping under these conditions was how much time it saved. She was done and on her way back to the saloon in fifteen minutes with her purchases neatly wrapped in a brown paper package tied up with twine. Once she got back to the saloon she could see about renting a room for the night. Then she could shower, change her clothes, and spend a little time looking around town. With any luck, that might take another fifteen minutes.

“Well, hello there!”

Alexa was so startled to hear Mike's voice close behind her that she almost dropped her package as she whirled to face him. He didn't look angry, but he didn't seem all that happy to see her either.

“Hi, Mike!” she said with as bright a fake smile as she could manage. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, as it happens,” he replied. “You left without saying goodbye.”

“Well, you were asleep, and you looked so peaceful that I didn't want to wake you.”

“That was very thoughtful of you,” Mike commented, “but I'm here now. Tell me, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Oh,” Alexa shrugged. “You know. See the sights, chill out, that kind of stuff.”

“And maybe rest up a bit from your narrow escape earlier?” Mike raised an eyebrow.

“Um... what are you talking about?”

“Oh, please.” Mike snorted. “You're the talk of the town here, Alexa, just like you're the talk of the town back thataways.” He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder in the very general direction of the hamlet she'd left him in. “What are you trying to do?”

“Trying to beat the record,” she replied as she clutched her package to her chest defensively.

“What record?” Mike asked.

“Elf-Girl's,” Alexa replied.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“You know, you could probably do that a lot easier if you didn't make such a play for attention everywhere you went,” Mike suggested.

“And what's the point of breaking a record if nobody knows that you've done it?” Alexa asked.

“Well, for one thing, in this case you'd have a better chance of succeeding. Then you could crow about it all you wanted. This way, you're just getting a lot of men interested in running you down.”

“Really?” Alexa asked coyly. “And are you one of those men?”

“I am now,” Mike replied, a bit grimly. “I feel like I owe you for what you did back there.”

“Oh, no need to thank me. I was happy to do it. Really.”

“I didn't say I wanted to thank you,” Mike corrected her. “I said I feel like I owe you.”

“Owe me what?” Alexa took a half-step back from him.

Mike smiled crookedly. “Gee, I don't know,” he said. “Screwing with me? Using me? What am I, the first notch on your belt?”

“Look, you screwed with me too,” Alexa pointed out. “We screwed together. I didn't hear you complaining at the time.”

“Well, I gotta say I wouldn't mind doing it again,” he admitted. “Have you had lunch yet? My treat.”

“Okay,” Alexa agreed with a smile. “Just let me get a room for the night first.”

“We could share a room,” Mike suggested.

“Thanks, but just lunch will be fine,” Alexa called back over her shoulder as she headed towards the bar. She laid her package down on it and signaled for the bartender, who was talking with two customers at the other end, to come over.

“I'd like to rent a room, please,” she said to him.

“I'm sorry, ma'am,” he said with a shake of his head. “We're full up for the night.”

“What?” Alexa wailed. “Is there any place else here that rents rooms?”

“One or two,” he replied. “But I expect they're already full up too, since I sent some folks looking for lodgings along earlier.”

“How could this happen?” Alexa asked.

“The season's started,” the bartender replied with a shrug. “It does happen sometimes. There's been talk of opening a rooming house, but it would only get used for about half the year, so it's just been talk so far.”

“Problem?” Mike inquired as he came over.

“Yeah, there's a problem!” Alexa exploded. “There aren't any rooms available!”

“I see,” Mike said. “So what are we going to do?”

“'We?'“ Alexa snapped at him. “What do you mean by 'we'?” You find your own damned room!” She turned back to the bartender and favored him with her sweetest smile. “Isn't there anything you can do to help a girl out?” she asked hopefully.

“Well,” the bartender rubbed his chin. “I can call for one of the proctors, and maybe she could be of some help.”

“Oh, would you, please?” Alexa responded. “It doesn't have to be anything special, just someplace where I can get a good night's sleep.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“This sucks,” Alexa complained. She spread a second blanket over the thick layer of straw and looked around for the pillow she'd brought along. She was still dressed as she had been that morning, her newly-bought clothes still tied up in their brown paper package. Putting on fresh clothes without showering first seemed like a waste of time, and in the wilderness with Will she'd had to wear the same clothes for more than one day before. She didn't much care for it, but she could endure it.

“I think you look pretty good in there,” Mike chuckled as he leaned on the door to the stall she was in. “You're a mite overdressed, though. I could help you with that.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Alexa snapped. She'd been in a foul mood ever since she'd found out that there were no rooms available, and having Mike tag along with her everywhere she went had not cheered her up at all. Now here she was in the barn where the naked females were kept, fixing up a place where she could sleep. There was a sort of lavatory available, in case she needed to use one, but the only shower available was out back and outdoors. She'd had a look at it, and from the way it was set up and all the chains hanging around it, it was clear that it was used by men to wash their females and show them off to anyone who happened by. She dearly wanted a shower, but not so bad as to use that thing. There was absolutely no kind of screening around it, and no way to rig any up. She was just going to have to rough it for tonight.

“Oh, come on,” Mike went on in an infuriatingly jovial tone. “It's not like I'd see anything I haven't seen already.”

“Will you go the fuck away?” Alexa demanded.

“No,” Mike replied easily. “And according to the proctor, I don't have to. I'm not allowed to touch you without your consent, and I can't harass you with foul language, but as long as I behave like a gentleman there's nothing you can do to send me away.”

Alexa wanted to throw something at him. “Shouldn't you be off finding your own place to stay for the night?” she asked.

“Nah,” Mike answered, shrugging. “I'm not really tired. Had a nice, long nap earlier.” He grinned at her wickedly and Alexa glared back.

“You look real good naked,” he continued. “If you want to raise a fuss, you could strip down and let folks have a look at you.”

“Will you please knock that off?” Alexa asked as she turned away from him to put the finishing touches on her bed for the night. “I'm not taking anything off, for you or anybody.”

“Kind of disappointing to hear that,” Mike said. “I mean, I'm probably your biggest fan. And I really like the way you have your pubes trimmed down to that wide stripe. I'd like to run my fingers through it.”

“Go away.” Alexa ordered.

“Why?” Mike asked. “I'm enjoying myself.”

“Oh, are you?” Alexa strode over to him, so quickly and so determinedly that he actually stood up straight and backed away from the door to the stall.

“You listen to me, Michael Andrew Jackson,” she began, jabbing a finger towards him, her expression a mixture of anger and frustration.. “You're enjoying it all way too much, and I'm sick of it! You're acting like some stupid teenaged boy, and it's not scoring any points with me, you hear?”

Mike just looked at her. “I don't have to score any points, Alexa Marx,” he said calmly. “I just have to catch you. I mean to do just that, and when I do I'm going to put you through your paces, and you'll have to score points with me, you hear?” With that, he turned away and walked out of the barn. Alexa went back to her makeshift bed and laid down. There were naked females in the other stalls, but she was perfectly safe in hers. The proctor who had found her this rough lodging, a woman named Miranda, had scrawled a warning in chalk on the low door to the effect that the occupant of this stall was to be let alone, and no man was to enter the stall without her permission. Will had told her about the incredible amount of authority that proctors wielded so long as they wore their distinct black dresses, the ones that looked like they should be worn by an old-time widow or schoolmarm, and Alexa had no doubts that the scribbled warning would keep her safe, and that no one would dare to try to rub it away.