I raised my hands and jangled the cuffs at him. “Not going anywhere.”
A scowled at me some more as if that was his only facial expression, and I watched him storm off back to the others. They were obviously discussing me and my dangerous disease, at least that was what it seemed like from the looks they kept shooting in my direction. I would have laughed if the situation wasn’t both ludicrous and tenable.
“Should we kill her?” B asked quietly, his voice just low enough to carry.
Ah, fuck. I hadn’t considered that being an option. I’d just wanted to not have any of their hands or cocks in my pants.
“What if she infects us all?” C asked. Both were clearly talking to A, who seemed to be the leader. “Should we risk contaminating the unit? Or do we take her to a healer?”
“We will take her to the unit healer,” A decided. “If we brought her to our leader, he would take her for himself, and I am tired of giving all of the spoils and receiving nothing in return.”
“So she’ll be ours?” There was a slavish tint to B’s words that I really didn’t like.
“If the healer can save her, yes,” A said. “Otherwise, we’ll kill her and dispose of her body like we never caught her. That way Kohta will never find out.”
I leaned against the cart, trying not to stare too obviously up at the sky in my desperation to figure out what to do. Great. So while I hadn’t been raped, I had now convinced them that I had a fatal illness and they were going to take me to their healer so they could attempt to fix me so they could keep me as their sex slave.
I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse, really.
The cold was starting to get unbearable, so I curled up into a ball the best I could. It wasn’t a very useful one, given the whole handcuffs thing, but I did my best. I was still shivering, but at least it was a little less and the Caterri seemed to have gotten onto a different topic. At least they weren’t giving me the same leers they had, which was a change I could get on board with.
Instead of moping, I turned to look at the cart I was attached to. Cart was not really the right word. Hovercraft was closer, and even then, not entirely right. It was shaped like a wagon but with nothing touching the ground, instead hovering maybe a foot off the ground. It was clearly sleek metal, although the design itself seemed to be clumsily put together, like it was someone who had been gifted the original and told to replicate it without having any idea of what they were doing.
The Caterri were far different than I had expected from what I’d seen so far. No, not in them being lewd assholes, but in the technology they used. The Caterri we had faced at O’Rrin’s side were equipped with swords, not magic guns, and they’d never had something like the cart with them. Was it technology not granted to patrols, or was it something else? Had the group we’d come across tormenting the Setti been a rebel rank of soldiers?
So many questions, so few answers.
Then there was how they could understand me. Was it my translator, or was it theirs? Was their language recognizable that my translator could handle it, or was I relying on the one I used with the N’Akron?
Of course, that made me think of N’Ashtar. I thought of his tall, strong build, his gold eyes, his dark scales. The way his eyes could flash a darker gold in amusement, even when he attempted to look stern. The way the brow ridges tried to make him look intimidating but failed when he laughed. I turned to look in the direction I thought we’d come from, even though I was a bit turned around. I was tired, freezing, and had almost been assaulted, so wishing N’Ashtar would come rescue me was probably ridiculous. Wishing he was at my side was even worse. But I did.
“Here.” Squire’s voice caught me off guard and I bit back a squeak as I jumped.
I turned to look at the smaller Caterri just as a bedroll thumped to the ground, a surprisingly warm-looking blanket on top of it. “I also brought some food, although it is just our travel rations.” Squire actually looked discomfited at the thought. “We do not have much to spare, and I could not risk taking extra and having them find out.”
“You’re giving me your dinner?” I pieced together the dots.
He shrugged. “You need it more than I do.” He shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the handcuffs before rolling out the bedroll next to me. “I am not allowed to remove the handcuffs, so I am afraid I must feed you.”
“Not that things can get more embarrassing,” I muttered. I thought of my period, how I was probably bleeding through everything but not really giving a damn because none of it was mine. If they had to wash themselves in hand sanitizer when they were done, it was their problem.
“I am sorry for their behavior.” Squire spoke softly, breaking off a corner of what looked almost like an oatmeal bar before offering it to me. “I am sorry I could not stop them.”
“Why do you tolerate that sort of stuff?” I asked between bites. I was hungrier than I’d expected, although that wasn’t surprising given how little they had fed me. He was polite about it too, trying to make as little physical as contact as possible. I was surprised how soft his skin was against mine. They really were human-like on their upper torsos.
When Squire’s eyes met mine, there was a bleakness to them I had seen before. “Sometimes you do not have a choice,” he answered.
My
