Breeder (20 page)

“You still must exercise caution in your speech and your actions,” Omra warned. It would do no good to alarm her friend with dire predictions when Anika could do little about it, since undoubtedly the decision to join the Enclave was more Jergan’s than hers. But Omra would not forgive herself if she allowed Anika to believe prudence was not required.

“I am not worried.”

You should be
. Omra stifled a sigh of dismay. She’d always considered Anika courageous, worldly, and experienced, but her boldness resulted from naïveté. She was not a person who could provide her with counsel with respect to her arrangement with Dak. Not that she needed it anymore. She had gained all the clarity she needed. Dak had been occupied by a matter of great significance to Parseon, and she, silly female, assumed his distraction originated with her.

But despite Anika’s lack of judgment and sophistication, she’d been a true friend, had helped her countless times at the BCF. Omra owed her a debt of gratitude.

“Do you have coin?” Omra asked her.

“Jergan has it.” Anika shook her head. “Why would I need money?”

Once she’d thought the same, but Omra knew differently now. “I’ll tell you, because there is someone I would like to you to meet. But before we do that, we need to pay a visit to the panna baker.”

“Why would we want to do that?”

“I must collect my earnings.” If all her sweetcakes had sold like last week, she should have triple the money, and Dak’s courier would not have retrieved it yet. Of course, after she collected it Dak would learn she had disobeyed him. But that would not occur until later. In the meantime, she would have the resources for what she needed to do.

Anika gaped. “You have money?”

“From my sweetcake business.” Omra raised her head proudly.

“You have a business?”

Omra laughed and linked her arm through Anika’s. No one had paid her any mind, and she no longer worried about anyone noticing her insignia. “Come. I have much to share with you, and then I want to introduce you to a Terran vendoress and buy you a going-away gift.

* * * *

Tears filled Omra’s eyes as she watched Anika disappear into the crowd. She worried less now, knowing her friend clutched an entire bolt of fabric under her arm. Once more, Omra had spent her earnings, but again, it was for a good reason.

She scurried out of the bazaar. She wasn’t quite sure what time Dak would arrive, but she sensed she had to make haste. Intent upon her goal, she did not notice the beta sweeping manure in the streets until she bumped into him. Scars from a severe lashing marked his back above his uniform. She swerved to the side, an apology readied.

He lifted his head.

Words froze in her throat.

“You!” Spittle erupted from Sival’s mouth and sprayed her face.

Around her a stream of people flowed past, but within the space that encompassed her and the former BCF director, time stalled.

Malevolence contorted his features. “At last!”

He flung the shovel, splattering her legs with animal excrement. He lunged. Omra managed to twist out of reach so that his filthy, clawed hands skimmed off her shoulder. “No!” She tried to scream, but the sound barely squeaked out of her throat.

Run!

Fear rooted her to the street.

“Get out of the way, Breeder!” A passerby slammed into her. The shove propelled her into motion.

Omra fled. She churned dust and drew stares as she zigzagged toward the warren of Market aisles. Behind her, the director’s feet pounded the cobbled square. “Halt! Stop that breeder!” he shouted.

An alpha lunged for her, but she veered sideways, and his touch glanced off her arm.

Market streets radiated off the village center like spokes on a wheel. She dove for an arterial. The congestion could offer safety or the greater danger. Would she be able to lose him or would more people attempt to detain her?

She dashed through the crowd. “Let me pass! Let me pass.”

Over the Market din, she could hear the Director’s cry: “Catch the breeder!”

She swerved right to avoid an alpha who grabbed for her, and her toe hit an exposed rock in the road. She pitched forward, windmilling her arms to halt her fall. Her feet found purchase, and she spied a slim alley between adjacent hard-sided stalls leading to the next row.

She squeezed into the crevice, inching her way to the other side. She’d made it the length of one booth and was beginning the second when she heard a yell.

“There she is!”

She turned her head toward the way she’d come. The alpha who’d tried to grab her pointed into the passage. The director appeared and squeezed in after her. Omra scrambled for the other side. Something sharp, a nail perhaps, raked across her back. With curses ringing in her ears, she emerged into the corridor and sprinted at full speed to put as much distance as she could between her and Sival while he was still sandwiched between the stalls.

She spotted another opening and forced her way through. Her breath came in heaving gasps; her heartbeat drummed in her ears. Wetness trickled down her back. Sweat? Blood?

A vague sense of direction had bloomed into a makeshift plan. She would seek refuge in the Terran bazaar. Dak had considered it safe enough to permit her to explore by herself, and she sensed the Terrans would hide her if she asked. Her people? They would hand her over to Sival without question. Although Alpha’s insignia conferred status, her word was no match for any male’s.

She popped out into the next aisle and took off at a jog, unable to shake the worry that her would-be captor closed the gap, though logic insisted she was widening it. She wove through the crowd, the sensation of being stalked not lessening. Was that her breathing racing in her ears or Sival’s?

She twisted around to check—and slammed into a hard body. Strong hands clamped onto her shoulders.

Omra screamed. How could the director have gotten ahead of her? She whipped her head around.

“Easy there. Why do you run so?” came a familiar voice.

She looked up into the compassionate, concerned face of Veya, Tarbek’s beta. Relief weakened her knees. A male of status, he could vouch for her. “Please, I must hurry. A man who wishes to hurt me is chasing me.”

Veya’s gaze radiated kindness and sympathy but no urgency.

“I must go. I must get home,” she said.

“It is all right, Omra. You are safe.” His voice soothed. “You’re with me, and you are safe.” He continued to hold her in a secure grip. “Who is this male who would dare move against Alpha’s breeder?”

Omra’s chest heaved as she strove to catch her breath. “He is the former director of the containment center where I was held. He did not want Alpha to purchase me.”

The conversation was eating precious seconds. She peered over her shoulder. No sign of Sival. Yet. She squirmed, but Veya’s hold was as strong as telenium.

“I will conceal you until he leaves. Afterward I will escort you home.”

“Can you not take me now?”

He shook his head. “We should not risk encountering the male you fear. Should he convince a powerful alpha of his claim on you, my word would not protect you.”

Omra remembered the alphas who’d tried to detain her. Veya was right. “The Terran bazaar,” she said. “I can hide there.”

“Not a good place. You will stand out among those aliens.”

She recalled their strange dress, Tara’s pink hair, how few breeders had been at the bazaar. He was right. Her plan had been a poor one. “Where else can I go?”

“I have something in mind. Come with me.” He released her shoulders but gripped one arm. He led her down the corridor, ambling as if he had nothing more of import on his mind than taking a stroll.

“
Please
, can we hurry?” she cried.

“We must blend, Omra. Avoid calling attention to ourselves. How many other breeders do you see racing through the Market? Everyone who sees a running female will remember. They will question why you flee.”

How much wiser he was than she. It had happened exactly like that. And he was a beta, not even an alpha. No wonder males ruled Parseon. Her mental capacity could not compare to his cunning.

But did he have to creep
so
slowly? She scanned the crowd. Other people moved at a faster pace. Surely if they sped up a
little
, they would not attract notice. She had begun to question whether she’d been wise to trust Veya when he rounded the corner to the row where she and Dak had achieved release together, where he’d spanked her for calling out his name. Hitched to two beasts was a conveyance, its driver absent.

Veya strode to it and flicked back a loose tarp covering the wagon. “You will be safe here.”

Omra peered up and down the row. “What if the driver returns?”

“I saw him leave,” Veya said. “He has gone for supplies. He will not return with any haste.”

She still wasn’t convinced. “What if the director comes and looks under the tarp?” She would be a sitting waterfowl.

“I will stand watch. If he arrives, I will tell him this is my conveyance, I am awaiting the delivery of supplies, and I saw you run that way.” He pointed in the opposite direction. “I will offer to help him search for you, but I will lead him astray.” Veya brushed his sleeve as if it were dusty. “You can come out, and I will take you home.”

“Oh, thank you! That is a good plan.” Omra scrambled into the wagon, and Veya flicked the tarp back into place. She crouched, keeping still to avoid making any noise, and listened as his footsteps faded away. Had he left? Wasn’t he going to stand watch?

But then she detected a murmur. His voice or someone else’s? It was too far away to tell. Had Sival tracked her down already? She held her breath. Then footfalls neared the conveyance. Veya’s. She recognized his tromping step, and a
click
that reminded her of a PCD being snapped shut. Had Veya called someone on his personal communication device?

Omra pressed a finger under her nostrils to prevent a sneeze. The wagon reeked of animal excrement, and dust tickled her nose. Once a sneeze had changed her life for the better, but she doubted the outcome would be as favorable this time. Under the tarp, she cupped an ear. For the longest time she could hear only the beasts snorting and Veya pacing.

“I search for a female!” Sival’s voice rang out distinct and sharp, and she jumped. Her heart pounded. Would the director check inside the wagon? Would Veya keep his promise or betray her?

Just because he had looked upon her with sympathy and compassion the evening of the Alpha dinner didn’t mean she could trust him. What did she know of him anyway? His hold as he had ushered her through the Market had been gentle but implacable. Had he led her to safety or into the hands of danger? She pressed a palm to her chest.
Please. Please. Please.

Why hadn’t Veya located one of Alpha’s guards? They would have protected her. She wished she’d thought to search for one herself. Had she made the wrong choice by trusting Tarbek’s beta?

“What does the female look like?” Veya asked as if he’d never seen her before. He
sounded
convincing. Her doubts receded but not her fear. Sival could still rip back the tarp.

“Black hair. Very pale skin. She probably smells like manure,” Sival answered, and Omra realized she emitted the awful odor. When he’d thrown the shovel, he had splashed her with its contents.

“I
do
remember seeing her. She ran through here like a herd of beasts was chasing her.” Veya’s response was followed by a shuffling and a rubbing against the wagon. The conveyance rocked.

What was happening out there? She trembled in fear.

“Which way did she go?” Sival demanded, his voice seeming closer now.

“Let me show you.” Another bump against the cart, this time on the opposite side. More rubbing. “I followed her for a bit. Curiosity got the better of me, I’m afraid.” Veya sounded sheepish.

“I’m very glad it did. I would be obliged for your assistance, thank you.”

Two sets of footfalls stomped away from the conveyance. When the sound faded completely, Omra expelled a shaky breath of relief. Veya had protected her. But how long should she remain hidden? How far afield would Tarbek’s beta lead Sival? She wanted to be certain the director was out of sight before she emerged. Veya had said he would escort her home, but perhaps she would be more prudent to leave as soon as she could, rather than wait.

She would count to one hundred and then make a break for it. Fighting residual panic, which screamed for her to flee, she forced herself to pause between each count. But by ninety-four, she could stand to wait no longer and lifted her arms to raise the tarp.

Thud. Squeak. Squeak.

She froze at the scuffling. A man coughed. Her heart rate shot into the troposphere. Had Sival doubled back? She pressed her fists to her chest.

The conveyance swayed. The bridled beasts snorted. “
Ayaa
!” An unfamiliar voice barked. The wagon jerked. They were moving! She had to get off. Omra threw up her hands to fling back the covering. It wouldn’t budge. She tugged and pushed, but the tarp held fast.

Let me out!
Panic rose in her throat, but she stifled it. Sival might be out of sight but perhaps not out of hearing. She remembered Veya’s calm demeanor. She would learn from him and bide her time until she could be sure they’d cleared the Market. Then she would shout to get the driver’s attention. She could travel by conveyance faster than she could by foot anyway. She still might get home before Dak arrived.

CORREN STEPPED OUT of a vacant stall, planted himself in the middle of the aisle, and watched Enyi drive away with the breeder.
I am alpha
. Triumph swelled.

His two partners joined him as the conveyance vanished from sight. “Your contacts are readied at the interplanetary terminal?” he confirmed with Sival and grimaced. The beta reeked of excrement.

“I contacted them moments ago,” the former BCF director said. “As soon as the breeder arrives, the sale will be processed, and she will be transported to serve the Veronian emperor. I was beginning to think we would never get her.”