Eland and Jeanne (Tales of the Shareem) (10 page)

To hell with it. He wasn’t a DNAmo slave anymore, and he was about to die.

Eland could barely see as he reached down and loosened the gag from Jeanne’s mouth, drawing it away. Freed, Jeanne’s cries of pleasure echoed through the room, mixing with her laughter.

“Gods, help me,” she begged. “
Eland.
Don’t stop. Never stop!”

His fingers shaking, Eland gently drew the vibrator from her, replacing it with himself. He caught her pleas on his lips as he kissed her, then thrust himself inside her once more.

Chapter Ten

When Rees entered the room a long time later, Eland raised a hand, warning him to stay quiet.

Jeanne was asleep, curled beside Eland, her restraints gone, a light sheet over her body. Her chest rose and fell as she slept without fear.

Rees pitched his voice low, expert at not waking a sleeping lady. “We need to go.”

The darkness that Eland had been able to push away since he’d come here and found Jeanne came rushing back. “I know,” he muttered. “Damn it.”

He could stay here forever, hide out for the duration, doing nothing but loving Jeanne and sleeping.

“Patrollers are starting to search this section of the city,” Rees said. “We can’t risk that one of Judith’s customers won’t mention the weird-looking guys who came to her back door. If we’re found, shit could rain down on Judith. And on Jeanne.”

Rees was right, though Eland didn’t want him to be.

Reluctantly, and carefully, Eland got off the bed. Jeanne slept on, oblivious. Exhausted. She was strong, but what they’d done today had worn her out.

“I know. It sucks.” Rees’s expression was hard. “But don’t worry. Another woman will come along and want you. Maybe she’ll be as pretty, and as much fun. They always want us,” he finished with a cynical twist to his mouth.

Eland paused in the act of pulling on his tunic. Then he settled the garment and thrust his feet into shoes.

“Rees,” Eland said, passing the man on the way to grab his robes. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Ignoring Rees’s frown, Eland strode out of the room, looping the robes around his body as he went.

***

Ten days passed. Jeanne made herself go home and then back to work, to continue with her everyday routine. The tedium of her existence, however, did nothing to assuage the certainty in her gut that she’d never see Eland again.

But she’d have to live with letting him go. Eland couldn’t be caught—getting himself off-planet was his best chance. She’d started discreetly inquiring about pilots that might be amenable to smuggling Eland and other Shareem off world. She didn’t find many.

Though Jeanne was careful to make these inquiries through go-betweens and was never specific about what human cargo they’d transport, what she learned was that such pilots would charge hideous fees to smuggle outlaws off-planet.

If Eland never came back to Jeanne, it would be a moot point. She wouldn’t know how to contact him to tell him she’d arranged transport for him anyway.

He was somewhere out in the city, lying low. Or he might have found another woman better able to hide him, and he’d do with her all he’d done with Jeanne.

She didn’t like to think about that either.

Jeanne took to heading to Judith’s bar after work every day, hoping against hope that Eland would be upstairs waiting for her. But every time Jeanne plopped herself on a barstool and ordered an ale, Judith would shake her head ever so slightly. He hadn’t come.

Patrollers wandered in and out of the bar from time to time, not asking questions, just looking around. They didn’t seem particularly interested in Judith, so they must not know she’d harbored Shareem in her upper rooms.

Fortunately, none of the patrollers were the one who’d questioned Jeanne at her apartment. Must be a different jurisdiction.

Finally, the patrollers moved their search along. Jeanne saw them on the streets around the neighborhood, but they stopped coming into the back alleys and to Judith’s bar altogether.

Once the patrollers quit dropping by, other Shareem started turning up—surreptitiously, never more than two at once. They’d be covered in concealing robes, or wearing off-world clothes. Those who didn’t know about Shareem
might
take them for off-worlders, but Jeanne recognized their Shareem-blue eyes at once.

Apparently word had spread that Judith’s bar was a fairly safe place, so they came in, had a drink and a little food, and disappeared into the darkness again. They came late, after most patrons had gone, but not too late, so Judith didn’t risk getting caught serving after hours.

Sometimes, a Shareem or two would go upstairs with Judith. Rees and Judith didn’t have an exclusive thing going, and she was happy to oblige the others. She’d invite Jeanne to join in, but Jeanne always said no. She was waiting for Eland.

Why, she didn’t know. But she wanted to wait.

Rees didn’t appear. Only a few Shareem seemed to know him, or even be aware of his existence. Judith had warned Jeanne not to speak of him, and Jeanne, though she was curious, agreed.

The one who knew Rees best was the Shareem called Rio ...

Rio had black hair and deep blue eyes with a dangerous glint in them. “And who might you be?” he’d asked Jeanne the first time she saw him.

Rio’s look said he offered wicked, wicked pleasure that could last all night, and he’d be ready for more in the morning. A lady would be thoroughly satisfied and thoroughly worn out when Rio was finished with her. Jeanne got all that with one sinful glance.

“No thanks,” Jeanne told him. “I’m waiting for Eland.”

Rio leaned on the bar next to her, his body heat blanketing her. “Yeah? That big lug?”

“Yeah, that big lug. I like him” Jeanne rotated her glass, feeling suddenly shy.

Rio studied her with a puzzled expression. “Right. Whatever. So while you’re waiting, how about I teach you a few things maybe he forgot to show you?”

Jeanne started to laugh. She should be offended, but Rio’s grin and sparkle in his eyes was hard not to like. “Thanks, but no.”

Rio spoke into her ear. “He might not be able to come back, sweetheart. I’m not saying that to hurt you—I’m saying it to be fair to you. We’re hiding and trying to save our asses. He might be holed up and unable to come out.” Rio straightened again and took a long drink of ale. “If he can’t see you again, I might just have to step into his big shoes.”

Rio was trying to make her laugh again, but Jeanne was numb. Her chest went tight, a hollow feeling nestling in her belly.

When she looked up, Rio was watching her, his teasing look gone. “You really like the shithead,” he said in surprise.

“Yeah.” Jeanne blinked back tears. “I really do.”

“Aw, sweetie. You can’t fall for a Shareem. It’s too fucking dangerous.”

“I know.” Jeanne tapped the side of her head. “In here, I know that. The rest of me isn’t listening.”

Rio rested one arm on the bar. “Back at DNAmo, when a lady volunteer decided she liked one of us—or we liked one of them too much—that lady was fired. And the Shareem in question punished. I’m thinking it won’t be too different now that we’re outside the factory. Hell—me standing here at this bar having an ale is a new and wonderful experience. But if I’m caught, I am so screwed. If you’re caught with Eland, because you can’t let him go … you’re screwed too.”

“I know,” Jeanne repeated. “Doesn’t change how I feel.”

“Huh.” Rio regarded her closely once more. “Eland’s a lucky bastard. But don’t wait for him, honey. You’re too pretty to be thrown into a cell.” He set down his glass and wiped his mouth. “I’d better go, in fact. Can’t stay in one place too long. You ask Judith to find me if you change your mind about me teaching you a few things.”

Rio touched Jeanne’s cheek, then before she could protest, he planted a kiss on her lips. He drew back, grinning, swatted her on the ass, and walked out, pulling robes up to cover his face before he stepped out into the night.

***

Rio came back more than once, and so did other Shareem. Jeanne still had not found a pilot willing to even talk to her without her paying, but she let Rio know she was trying. As she got to know more of the Shareem, she wanted to make sure they
all
were all right. Rio promised that, once she had good news, he’d pass on the message to Eland and Rees.

Not long after Jeanne had met Rio, a pair of Shareem who’d fallen in with each other in their quest to stay alive came into the bar. One had blond hair and the most perfectly formed male face Jeanne had ever seen. He was called Aiden, and his wink and quiet smile had her filling up with heat in two seconds flat.

The other was black-haired, like Rio, but without Rio’s good humor. Ky was a level three as well, but Rio said he took being a Dom too seriously. Ky’s subs obeyed, and the woman was rewarded with screaming pleasure. Or so Rio claimed.

Judith sampled the delights of all the Shareem who came in. Aiden and Ky specialized in ménage, she told Jeanne. Aiden was level one, meaning he knew erotic massage, how to use oils, and slow goodness. He’d soothe the lady first, then Ky would have her in restraints, while he went level three on her. Then Aiden would ease her down again.

Her description bordered on the graphic, and Jeanne had to go home, stand in her shower, cup her hand between her legs, and fantasize about Eland before she calmed down.

“So this is life outside DNAmo,” Aiden said one night, rolling a mug between his skilled fingers. “Skulking in the back streets, our only refuge a bar with a generous hostess.” Aiden caressed Judith’s backside as she came to the table to refill his ale—Shareem seemed unable to keep their hands off a woman’s ass.

“At least it’s better than the shithole we live in,” Ky grumbled.

“Hey, you picked it,” Aiden returned. “So whose fault is that?”

Ky, with his lighting change of mood, grinned. “Bor Narga’s.”

Aiden laughed, and even that was sensual.

The Shareem looked good to Jeanne, but she had no interest them, no matter how tasty. She wanted Eland. And worried for him.

When the patrollers started increasing coverage of Judith’s neighborhood again, the Shareem vanished like ghosts. One week they warmed the bar, the next, they were gone.

***

Eland watched from the shadows as Jeanne left her apartment in the small hours of the night. His eyes narrowed. Where the hell was she going?

He watched her most nights, pulling sun-blocking robes across his face, fading out of sight when even the hint of a patroller came along. He knew Jeanne went to work at the docks every day, then stopped at Judith’s for a drink before heading home. She did this every night.

He knew other Shareem went to the bar—they told him—but Eland and Rees hadn’t returned there. Patrollers had been watching for Rees specifically, he being the dangerous escapee that he was. Eland couldn’t risk leading the patrollers to Rees, or to Jeanne. Better to stay away, much as it killed him.

Jeanne rarely ventured out after she returned from Judith’s. Tonight, however, she pulled on robes against the midnight bite in the air and moved down the street. Eland stepped out from the alley and followed.

She went to Judith’s. The bar was closed, but Jeanne walked around to the back and knocked on the door.

A patroller walked past the alley and saw Jeanne, but turned away without paying attention. Women were allowed to move about the city as they pleased at any time of the night. If a woman was visiting a friend or relation, a patroller had no business interfering.

The door closed, Jeanne inside.

Eland waited until the patroller was well away. He could move in silence, and went unerringly to Judith’s unmarked back door and tapped out the special knock Rees had taught him.

Judith opened the door quickly. Her face fell when she saw Eland—she’d been hoping for Rees.

“You gonna let me in?” Eland asked.

Judith stood aside so he could enter. After she closed and locked the door, she said. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting you. But the more the merrier.”

Whatever that meant.

Judith took him upstairs to her apartments and they entered the front room.

Eland knew they were there before he walked in. Shareem—he swore he could smell them. Jeanne was with them, sitting on Rio’s lap.

Chapter Eleven

The sound that came out of Eland’s mouth surprised him. Surprised Rio too, and Jeanne.

The cross between roar and snarl welled up in his throat and he was across the room, yanking Jeanne away from Rio before he knew he’d moved.

“Hold it …” Rio began, but Eland wasn’t listening.

He had Jeanne by the arm, propelling her from the room and across the hall into the guest bedroom, the doors obligingly opening and closing for him.

“Eland … what …?” Jeanne’s words tumbled out. “What are you doing here? Why …?”

Eland was too incoherent to speak. A mad rage rose into his brain.