“Hold still, Brother—as much as you can,” she heard Rarev murmur to the hapless Charn. Then, with one swift move, he used his claws to slash through the thick black leather of the pain collar with a single swipe.
The collar parted and fell on the floor, spitting sparks from the severed electronics and wires inside it. The look of agony left Rarev’s face as his jaws relaxed and his eyes stopped squinting in pain.
Charn simply lay there panting, his broad chest expanding and contracting over and over, taking deep, ragged breaths as he tried to regain his equilibrium.
Mistress Tatterass, however, wasn’t nearly so calm.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she shrieked at Rarev. “Do you know how much that pain collar cost me? Now how am I going to get him to behave on the way home? You owe me thousands of credits!”
“I owe you nothing and Charn will not be going home with you,” Rarev said, straightening up to frown down at her.
“What? But he is my property! You can’t just take what someone else owns!”
“I can if what you’re proposing to ‘own’ is another person,” Rarev growled. “Charn is free now—you’ll never be his Mistress again.”
“Thank you,” Charn nodded gratefully to Rarev. “I never could have escaped the pain collar on my own.”
Rarev nodded back at him.
“You are very welcome, Brother. Enjoy your freedom.”
“What? But you can’t do this!” screeched Mistress Tatterass, her face turning red with fury. She turned to the Director of Mining. “I demand that you help me! I came here in good faith to compete in your foolish Trials and now I’m being robbed by one of the other contestants. You must stop this at once!”
“I’m sorry, Mistress Tatterass, but Rigellens find the idea of slavery repulsive and wrong and we are disgusted by anyone who practices it,” the Director of Mining said, stepping up. “I request that you leave our planet immediately. This poor male you forced to pretend to be your mate will be offered sanctuary here until such time as he chooses to leave.”
“What? No! No, you can’t do that—you can’t!” The Yonnite Mistress exclaimed.
“I can and I have,” the Director said grimly. He raised his voice and called, “Guards? Please come and escort Mistress Tatterass to her ship. She is leaving our fair planet now!”
At once, two blue-skinned Rigellen guards entered the room. They each took an arm and dragged the Yonnite Mistress, who was still shrieking and screaming that she had been robbed, out of the room where the Trials were being held.
After she was gone and her angry shrieks had faded, the Mining Director looked down at Charn, who had gotten to his knees by this time.
“Please forgive me for not seeing your situation earlier, friend,” he said earnestly. “I had no idea you were being kept in bondage!”
“Neither of us did,” his slime-wife said from his shoulder, her purple eyes wide. “We thought the scent of desire we caught from you was proof of your relationship.”
“That was a pheromone spray my Mistress…my ex-Mistress used on both of us.” Charn shook his head. “Can’t believe I’m really free of her.” He put a hand to his neck, as though he also couldn’t believe the pain collar was really gone. “Thank you for offering me sanctuary,” he said to the Mining Director. “I’ll be happy to stay here until I’m able to contact my former Mistress—who is the true Mistress of my heart.”
“Will you go back to being owned again?” Rarev asked, frowning.
Charn shook his head.
“Not in the literal sense, no. But to be honest, she already owns my heart—as I’m sure your own lovely lady owns yours, Commander.”
His words brought Em back to herself with a shock. She had been watching with admiration as Rarev freed the poor bodyslave and cheering internally as the awful Mistress Tatterass was bested and dragged away. Now she realized all over again that she and the big Monstrum were about to face the same questions that had just tripped up the Yonnite Mistress.
The realization made her feel sick to her stomach and it seemed as though a cold hand slipped into her chest and squeezed her heart.
What were they going to do?
19
Rarev made his way back to the crystal dome and ducked under it to sit across from Emilia once more. He was aware that in the next few minutes, they might lose any hope they had of protecting the Earth from the Darklings. Because, as Mistress Tatterass had proved beyond the shadow of a doubt, there was no getting around the effects of the truth berries they had all ingested.
Still, there was nothing to do but wait for the panel of judges and the Director of Mining to come over and ask their questions.
Across from him, he could tell that Emilia was nervous. Her face betrayed nothing—she was probably used to presenting a calm outer façade no matter what the circumstances, due to the nature of her job. But her hands were twisted tightly together—her fingers clenched until the knuckles were white. Also, he could smell the fear seeping into her lovely scent.