Please Goddess, he prayed to the entity that all Kindred worshiped. Bound and I are in a terrible spot. We need blood and we need it soon or we’re going to be coming to meet you before the sun touches the horizon. Please, send us help—send someone to save us!
As he finished his silent prayer, he became aware that someone had come up to the side of the razor-wire enclosed area and was staring in at him and Bound.
“Well, well,” said a female voice. “What have we here? Slaves fit only for the Death Mines?”
Looking up, Gaze saw a tall, skinny Yonnite Mistress. She was wearing a red dress that seemed to be made entirely out of thin crimson strings, none of which covered her breasts or sex in any way. She had a couple of black leather straps that Gaze recognized as pain collars dangling from one hand and there was a cruel smirk on her red lips.
Inwardly, he groaned—Goddess, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind! What are you thinking?
There was no answer from the Goddess and Gaze realized there was nothing he could do but sit there and guard his brother and wait for his fate to be decided by a female he didn’t even know.
It was enough to make even his eternal optimism fade.
SIX
Weakly, Gaze bared his fangs at the female and tried to hiss at her, but his throat was so dry all he could manage was a hoarse cough. Still, he seemed to have made an impression.
“Well—look at that!” The skinny female in the red dress opened her eyes wide with surprise. “Has he got fangs?” she demanded of the Horvath guard, pointing at Gaze. “What kind of Kindred did you say he was?”
“Blood Kindred, Mistresss,” the Horvath hissed evasively. “They all have fangsss.”
“Not like that,” the Yonnite Mistress protested. “I’ve never seen a Blood Kindred have fangs like those before—so long and sharp!”
“The better to bite you with, Mistress,” Gaze growled hoarsely, glaring at her through the razor wire. “My brother and I aren’t just Blood Kindred—we’re Pitch-Blood Kindred. Which means we need to drink blood and we’ll happily make sure your blood is on the menu. If you buy us, we’ll drain you dry!”
That, of course, was an exaggeration. Even the thirstiest Pitch-Blood didn’t need to drain anyone dry. Just a few mouthfuls of blood would restore him to full health and even Bound wouldn’t need much more than that. But there was no way the evil Yonnite Mistress could know that.
“Is that right? Hmmm.” The Mistress didn’t look worried a bit, though she was looking strangely thoughtful. “It would seem that these two are a danger to whomever you sell them to,” she said to the Horvath guard.
“No! No danger, Mistresss,” he protested. “These slavesss are perfect for the Death Minesss!”
“I don’t think so!” Suddenly, a new female came charging up to the cage.
Gaze looked at her in surprise. The new female looked nothing like the skinny mistress in the red dress. In fact, she couldn’t have looked more opposite if she tried.
To start with, the dress she had on wasn’t in the least revealing. It didn’t show her breasts or sex, though it did cling to her curves—which were lovely and full.
An Elite, Gaze thought, which was the name the Kindred gave to a female who had been blessed by the Goddess with extra generous curves. All Kindred warriors loved Elites, but Twin Kindred were especially attracted to them.
But it wasn’t just the modesty of her dress or the fullness of her curves that set her apart. The little Elite had creamy brown skin, which Gaze had only seen once, during a trip he and Bound had made to the Kindred Mother Ship which orbited a small planet called Earth. Apparently some of the inhabitants there had the same gorgeous skin tones for he had seen several Kindred warriors with such brides.
The lovely Elite also had long black hair and dark eyes that were filled with fire.
“I don’t think so,” she said again, glaring first at the Horvath guard and then at the other Mistress. “You are not going to send these poor males to the Death Mines.”
The skinny Mistress put a hand on her nonexistent hip.
“And who’s going to stop me? I was here first and I’m already bidding on these males for my mines.”
The Elite turned to the Horvath who was watching the exchange between the women with slitted yellow eyes.
“Whatever she bids, I’ll double it,” she proclaimed.
The skinny Mistress narrowed her poison-green eyes.
“Fine. Then I bid five thousand credits for each of them.”
“Five thousssand?” The Horvath widened his yellow eyes in surprise.
Gaze was surprised himself. He didn’t know the cost of a male slave here on Yonnie Six, but he was betting that five thousand apiece was high at a bargain basement establishment like this.