Whispers in the Dawn (2 page)

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Authors: Aurora Rose Lynn

BOOK: Whispers in the Dawn
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The woman’s eyes were lined heavily with black eyeliner, and her mascara made her lashes seem ultra-long. The firmness of youth had begun to slip away, but it was her lips that drew attention to her otherwise pale and haggard face with its still-flawless complexion. Her mouth was heart-shaped, and painted in a garish crimson red so as to attract immediate attention. Her grey hair, which must have once been wonderfully black, was unwashed and uncombed. She appeared as though she had risen from a restless night just moments earlier.

“I’m not exactly lost. I’m wondering where my boyfriend went off to.” Odessa tried to keep her voice level, to keep the panic from showing through. She smoothed her black pantsuit down her thigh over and over again with short fingers, reminding herself she was not a full-time occupant of Romaydia. Certainly she would go mad if she were.

“Did he love you and leave you?” The woman spoke softly, almost as if she was afraid to give voice to her thoughts. Her eyes darted every which way in a quest for only she knew what.

“Um, no,” Odessa said, instantly noticing the hint of compassion in the woman’s eyes. And pity.

Odessa worried her lower lip. This was supposed to have been the adventure of her life, a chance to show her brothers she could manage on her own—with a little help from her new husband. Except the groom had run off. There would be no happily ever after.

“Men are fickle creatures. They take what you give and then they dump you,” the woman said gently.

“Roland didn’t dump me,” Odessa protested, although she now knew what the woman had said was too close to the truth. Would Roland truly abandon her in the middle of a space station, unable to find her way home for lack of money? Raging anger began to replace the panic.

Odessa observed a human walking by with an odd helmet on his head that looked like an upturned bucket. He seemed to be lost to his surroundings, his eyes glazed over and his cheeks glistening with a sheen of perspiration. On further scrutiny, there were others wearing the unusual helmets and strolling about aimlessly.

Odessa turned back to her companion, who had followed her gaze. The woman shrugged her bare shoulders elegantly. “They do it all the time on this station, so don’t be surprised if your lover boy did the same to you.”

Odessa took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting to ten. At first she thought the woman had been talking about those wearing helmets, but then realised she’d spoken about men. Odessa knew she was deluding herself, but she refused to accept that her fiancé could possibly ditch her. “Why don’t you understand, Roland wouldn’t do such a thing? We experienced something very few people ever do—love at first sight.” She sighed. Her voice wasn’t very convincing, even to herself.

Once again, the woman raised her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. “You are the type who gets hit the hardest, since you and your man—I’m guessing—hadn’t known each other for a long period of time before committing to each.”

How did this woman know Roland had done just that? He had lavished gifts upon her, from sparkling diamonds to crystal figurines to evening gowns she would never wear more than once. She’d loved him for the gifts, but she’d loved him more for being laid back and for being a carefree man.
Until today
, she reminded herself ruefully. Today had been a turning point, when he had urged her to deliver the package herself. And she had fallen for his disappearing trick.

“Do you want me to continue?” the woman asked, tossing a stray lock of hair over her shoulder. “He said he wanted to marry you, but he didn’t have time before you left Earth. He promised to marry you here on the station when all his business was concluded, right?”

Was the woman a mind reader? Odessa caught sight of a loathsome octopus-like being floating by, its tentacles wreathed in a rainbow-coloured light. She would have fled, if she could, from the dangerous energy it radiated.

“He’s a Seikalis. You’ll have to watch them when it comes to scouting them out. They pay the best, but their legs can burn into a human’s tender skin. If you know what I mean.”

Odessa had no idea what the woman was referring to, and tried not to let her ignorance show on her face. “I have no reason to scout them out. I have no interest in other men.” Not at all, and perhaps never again. She would find her way home with her tail between her legs, so to speak. All she had to do was find a spaceship to carry her home, like a prince on a white horse.

“Ah. You’re thinking just like Poppy did. That’s not her real name, but she thought her Freddie was going to come back for her one day soon. She’s still waiting for him. After five years. She refuses to give up, but I hate to tell her, she’s stuck here because she’s female. If she does get a chance to leave, a rich Seikalis will come along, woo her and take her off the station. She’ll never be heard from again. That’s how it is. For a woman, there is no way off the station. No one wants useless females.”

Odessa couldn’t believe what she’d  heard. Every word this woman had said had been softly spoken, but without inflection. It was as if she no longer possessed a soul. A hardness began to gnaw at Odessa’s insides. “We aren’t useless females,” Odessa objected. Obviously the rules on Earth were different from those on Romaydia, where women could do what they wanted, the way they pleased, without a man’s help.

“Maybe where you come from, dear, but here, it’s different. It’s a man’s world. Women are ruled by men. If you don’t like that idea, you can struggle but, inevitably, you’ll give in. Why not save yourself the heartache?”

“Women fly starships where I come from,” Odessa insisted, although she had only heard about women who piloted starships and other types of aircraft.

“Women don’t fly anything here. They serve only two purposes—catering to a man’s stomach or his sexual needs. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Ah, to be young and innocent again,” the woman mused. A twinkle of regret lit the depths of her eyes, the exact shade of her dress.

Odessa didn’t respond. She guessed the woman must be in her mid-fifties, but she could have been younger. Life hadn’t treated her kindly.

“You’re new here. You have a lot to learn. When you accept your man ditched you, you’ll have to find work to survive. On this station, you’ll find there’s only a couple of ways to make a dollar, and one makes much more than the other. That is the best way to feed yourself and maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll find a man who’ll take you for the night and pay you well so you can live through the next day.”

“Roland didn’t dump me. He’s just playing one of his interminable jokes,” Odessa stated too forcefully, from between clenched teeth. Briefly, she wondered if she was trying desperately to persuade herself of this truth. The woman had only confirmed her gut instinct—that the station was unsafe.

The woman shook her head, once again throwing her grey over a creamy shoulder. “Believe what you want, but don’t you be surprised if the truth hits hard. When it does, know that you’re not alone. My name’s Violette, and I’m easy to find if you ask around for me.” She leant forward. Odessa smelt apples and cinnamon and stale cigarette smoke in the woman’s hair. “You probably don’t want the advice, but don’t talk to men here. They’ll think you’re propositioning them and since you’re not in the market—yet—you don’t want to do that. When you’re ready, though, most of the girls know where to find me.”

“I’m sure I won’t be searching you out. I’m going home,” Odessa said with a lot more confidence than she felt. Unwittingly or not, the older woman had unearthed Odessa’s surfacing fears. She couldn’t take care of herself any better than a worker bee could without the queen in its hive. Why had she allowed herself to be so blinded by Roland’s charm and
savoir-faire,
to blindly believe he was who he claimed to be? What kind of trouble had she become entangled in?

The woman gave a small, sad smile. “If you say so. Information around here is power. Don’t forget that.”

Before Odessa could reply, Violette turned her back, walked into the surging crowd, and was lost to sight seconds later. “Well, that’s enough of that.” Odessa unconsciously puffed out a little breath, blowing her short bangs up, which promptly fell down.

“Roland, I’m going to kill you when I find you,” she muttered, wishing she had a sharp object and he was in its direct path. She gritted her teeth in frustration. It wasn’t funny that he had left her in the midst of a culture she was unfamiliar with, and to make matters unbearable, she had no money, no spare change of clothes and knew no one. She didn’t have any idea how to get hold of her brothers, who might be able to help her—if she was willing to admit she had been in the wrong in running away with Roland Baylon.

For a millisecond, she let herself entertain the reassuring notion Roland would return for her. But the idea evaporated and she quickly spiralled downward into fear and uncertainty.

If she ever found Roland, she would string him up by his toes until he begged for mercy. What would he think of
that
for a hearty but humourless prank? She came to the conclusion she was alone and needed help with obtaining information as to how to get off the space station, and how to obtain lodging, if nothing else. Odessa hustled off in the direction Violette had taken, deeper into the station’s maw.

After sqeezing past one alien after another, each appearing stranger than the last, and desperately searching for a hint of Violette’s dress, Odessa finally caught up with her. She pressed her fingers delicately against the woman’s upper arm to halt her.

Violette spun around, her face a study in wretched terror. “Oh,” she exclaimed, relaxing marginally upon seeing Odessa, although she remained uneasy. “It’s you.”

Odessa didn’t know why the woman had panicked at the simple touch. “Can you tell me where the Air Controller’s office is? Please?”

Violette shook her arm free. “Trust me, you don’t want to go there.”

“But I have to.” The Air Controller, according to what little she knew of the station, was the man to ask about cargo ships and where they were headed.

“Women don’t go by themselves to the Controller’s offices. Not unless they’re heavily escorted.”

“Why not? I can handle myself.”

Odessa observed Violette’s expression of grave doubt. “You have to rethink what you can do here. What’s safe for a woman on your planet isn’t on Romaydia. You can get yourself killed for asking a simple question.”

“I have to try and get to the Controller’s office anyway.”

Violette examined Odessa’s face, her eyes questioning and momentarily sharp. Before Odessa could say anything, the mask of hopelessness slipped back into place. “Why?”

Odessa swallowed. “I just need to. That’s all.”

“To find that boyfriend of yours?  You won’t find him. He’s long gone off the station.”

So her motives were plainer than the nose on her face. “That too,” she replied, a little irritated. “Now, are you going to tell me?”

“If I told you, I’d be putting your life in danger. You don’t know these men. They’ll kill you to cover up their indiscretions, especially since you’re perceived as a visitor here. Visitors, especially of the female persuasion, have other uses than asking questions they have no hope of getting an answer to.”

Odessa refused to listen. She stormed off towards the edge of the public area, to the doorway where the
Drifter
should have been, hoping she could stop someone and ask for the information she needed. Surely someone would know where the Controller’s offices were.

Warding off the panic that had lodged near her breastbone, but determined she would get off Romaydia no matter what the consequences, she was about to turn around when strong arms grabbed her from behind. She cried out, but the sound was lost amidst a woman’s simultaneous, high-pitched laughter echoing a few feet away. By the time Odessa could cry out again, her captor had clamped his hand over her mouth and started to haul her off into a darkened corridor. Odessa fought to breathe and release herself from the tight hold, but to no avail. Apparently Violette had been right—Romaydia was no place for a single woman.

 

Chapter Two

 

 

 

Odessa thrashed about, trying to free herself from the tenacious grip of whoever was holding her. She didn’t think the man was Roland. Her attacker’s smell was that of strong tobacco, not like her fiancé’s expensive colognes. Her captor had pinned her hands painfully behind her and covered her mouth with a sickly smelling cloth. Abduction attempts weren’t part of the adventure scenario, were they? Might he be Roland after all, playing another of his tasteless jokes on her, forcing her to think he had abandoned her and then having her seized by one of his buddies?

Terror struck her as she remembered Violette’s warning. What if she was being captured by a man who wanted to take his pleasure of her? She wouldn’t be able to bear that. Adventure wasn’t about having choices taken away, but about expanding horizons.

She did the only thing she could think to do. She raised her foot and slammed her heel into her captor’s instep. He made a choking sound. He released her just enough to enable her to squirm out of his hold and wriggle around. She would show him what she thought of his underhanded tactics to get what he wanted. She would mete out the punishment he deserved.

As she turned around, a man-shaped blur whizzed by. Without warning, her captor was lifted into the air. His feet dangled at least twelve inches from the floor. For a moment, Odessa gaped in amazement at her raging rescuer before he threw his prize against the wall behind her. She cringed at the sound of flesh slamming and bone cracking against the metal decking.

“Vermin,” she thought she heard her rescuer say, before he brushed his hands against his leather-clad thighs. Magnificent thighs that made her mouth water and her brain appreciate the form of the male body, and forget the immediate danger her attacker had placed her in. The man who had assaulted her had an ugly scar marking the length of his cheek, and greasy hair and torn clothing. Odessa didn’t pause to think. She hit him in the shin with a swift, vengeful kick.

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