Sarai Page 3

  Alekyn jerked his arms, pulling his sarai away from Tig. “Mine!” he snarled, and then looked abashed.

  Tig jumped back, his face warm with embarrassment. “My apologies, brother. It’s just that your sarai smells so good, almost intoxicating. If it is a breeder — even if it is not — do you think we could come back and look for others of its kind?”

  Alekyn wasn’t sure. “It depends on its breeding status, although maybe we could get a dispensation to come back. After all, my little thing will need the company of others of its kind when it is not servicing my needs.”

  “If it is a breeder …” Tig mused, “there won’t be an issue about coming back.”

  “None whatsoever,” Alekyn agreed.

  If the healers determined his sarai was capable of bearing him young, he would help his pardmates find more like his little creature. His eyes gleamed — they would each of them have a sarai, and they’d keep their breeders in a traditional family harem, safe and protected. Visions of Naferi pardlings racing around, play-fighting with their sires, learning to hunt, learning to fight, lit his mind’s eye.

  His little one moved restlessly in Alekyn’s arms. He pushed his fantasies to the side and tightened his grip on his sarai. That was all for the future. Right now they had to return to the ship and go back through the void.

  Once they had his sarai onboard the ship, Tig could attend to its physical hurts, and when they were home the healers could work out whether it could breed. Whatever happened after that was up to the Goddess.

  A far-off high-pitched sound had him wheeling around. In the distance he could see blue and red lights flashing — two small vehicles, followed by a larger one emitting that goddess-awful sound, had appeared. Somehow his sarai had sent off a message for help, and here help was, roaring and screaming towards them. He hoisted his sarai over his shoulder and gestured to Tig.

  “Time to move — we don’t want to confront them right now.”

  Tig was already moving fast into the nearby darkness. Alekyn cursed as a beam of light danced around the ground near him. He turned and raced after his pard, knowing that his little one’s kind had seen his silhouetted outline. Still, it was only a matter of time now before they knew all about the Naferis and PanGal — and the threat of the Zill, if he were any judge of matters.

  Chapter Three

  JAMIE STRUGGLED TO WAKE UP. For some reason, his eyelids seemed almost too heavy to open…maybe he hadn’t gotten enough sleep during the night? He’d been tormented by nightmares in which strange metallic-skinned monsters endlessly stalked him, creatures with fangs ready to rip into his flesh, a smell of burning, even an odd, uncomfortable feeling of being carried upside down. He shivered. God-awful dreams. Thank fuck he was awake.

  He grunted and tried to rub his eyes, and found he couldn’t. He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes, trying to control the panic spiraling through him.

  Shit, what the hell was this — not only were his arms restrained to the sides of the cot he was on, his legs were strapped into stirrups attached to some sort of device that separated and raised them.

  Under the light sheet, he could feel sweat pouring off his body, his heart racing insanely fast. Where was he? What had happened? Who had done this to him? A psychopath? Was some madman even now watching him on closed circuit television, grotesquely excited by his obvious fear? He’d seen a few television shows featuring that sort of thing…the victim usually ended up horribly dead unless rescued in the nick of time or managed somehow to escape.

  He tried again to jerk his feet out of the restraining stirrups, but couldn’t budge them…that left timely rescue.

  Which also seemed unlikely, he acknowledged, as he forced himself to calm down and take note of his surroundings. He discovered that a strap across his neck wouldn’t allow him to raise his head, so his vision was restricted to what he could see immediately to the sides of his body, but he saw enough to learn that the room was small and utilitarian. Some sort of machine was monitoring his vitals — he worked that out by watching as it registered the ebb and flow of his panicked heartbeat — and a small tray table against one of the walls held an assortment of implements, most of which looked vaguely medical. It was just a stark little room…except for the weird frame holding his legs apart and the restraints preventing him from moving.

  His arms and legs were aching now; his throat was dry. He inventoried the rest of his body as much as he could. There didn’t seem to be anything much wrong with him, no bruises that he could see, no sore spots, although his jaw ached a little — he looked at his raised hips and shuddered…but nothing felt amiss; he didn’t think he’d been raped and surely he would know, even if he’d been unconscious while it happened. Wouldn’t he?

  Or was that something still to come? His heart rate accelerated again; to help settle himself again, he tried to remember what he’d been doing before he’d fallen asleep — or been drugged or somehow knocked unconscious — and woken to being a prisoner. He remembered the sunlight on the drying wheat, the mad whirr of a bird’s wings, roaring sounds, and…cats?

  What the hell…cats? A sudden memory assailed him — a beast, standing on two legs, fangs bared, claws reaching for him, the retort of the shotgun and the sound of smashing glass. Jesus, he thought, horrified, it was real, not a nightmare.

  A faint ting announced the opening of a door; his view was obscured by his lower body, so he had to wait until whoever entered came closer to him. His mouth gaped — the creature from his nightmares stood beside him, studying him, but this time its tawny-golden mane flowed from its head in a heavy plait that slipped forward over his shoulders.

  “You are awake, little thing,” the voice was deep and oddly soothing. “Excellent. Now that the regenerator has eased your injuries, the healers wish to examine you. They are very eager, as am I, so this will not take long.”

  “What…you speak my language?”

  Idiot! Of all the things he could have said, Jamie couldn’t believe he’d asked that.

  The creature came closer, frowning as Jamie instinctively cringed away. “Of course not. The healers loaded our language into your brain while you slept.”

  “They what? They put stuff in my head?” Jamie’s voice rose in panic. “In my head!”

  “Naturally, how else are we to communicate with you? We know nothing of your world, little thing, or your language.”

  “Stop calling me that, you oversized, kidnapping cat-bastard!” Jamie couldn’t believe the words that spilled from his mouth. Sheer terror was driving him now, and it seemed to have extracted his brain cells as it zoomed along.

  The catman didn’t approve of his rebelliousness. His eyes narrowed into blue slits, his voice stern. “You are upset, little thing, but you should not speak to me like that.”

  Jamie stared at him disbelievingly. “Of course, I’m upset,” he struggled uselessly against his bindings. “What the hell are you on about — untie me, goddammit!”

  The catman shook his head, sighing. “It seems you may need considerable training, my sarai, but do not fear, I will look after you …”

  He reached out and gently stroked a lean finger down Jamie’s cheek. “All will be well, sarai.”

  Jamie tried to shake his head, but the straps held him still. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying. Training? What training? None of this makes sense. Let me go, now!”

  The catman shook his head. “I’m sorry, sarai, I can’t do that until the healers have looked at you. Once they confirm your breeding status, I will take you to my pard’s den and you can begin your new life …”

  Jamie stared at him, horror etched across his face, then he relaxed marginally. Calmness spread through his consciousness. This wasn’t real. He’d been working too hard at his studies and he’d obviously had some sort of psychotic break. He nodded sagely; he’d just have to go with the hallucinations until he was cured.

  He’d like to think he was the victim of some elaborate joke, but the fire ha
d seemed so real — maybe he’d lit it himself? God, he hoped not. But if it had been some sort of joke, with actors hired by his brothers or Glynn or all of them together, he was going to murder them. No, stop that — better to think he’d gone mad rather than people he trusted had done this to him. He found himself focusing on the last thing he’d heard.

  “Wha…what do you mean — your den?” he pushed the words out of his suddenly dry throat.

  A purr rumbled from deep within the catman’s chest. If he was an actor, Jamie thought, he’d gotten right into the role — even the tips of his fingers showed retractable claws, dark and sharp against his golden skin.

  “Den…our home, soon to be yours as well,” the catman murmured reassuringly. “You will like it…it is large and comfortable and has a beautiful garden. When you’re more settled, I’ll take you to our retreat overlooking the Vamiet Forest, a wild and beautiful place.”

  The catman actor’s voice sounded so matter-of-fact, so convincing, that Jamie felt seriously agitated.

  “Cut it out, man! I don’t care where you live and I’ve never heard of the Vamiet Forest. It’s obvious that I’m ill, but you’re just a figment of my imagination so stop telling me stuff about places that don’t exist.”

  “Don’t exist?” the creature puzzled. “Figment?”

  For a moment they stared at each other in mutual confusion, then the catman visibly collected himself. “I don’t know what you are talking about, but no matter. Tell me your name, little thing.”

  There it was again.

  “Enough with the “little thing” stuff, dude — you might be a giant but I’m not little,” Jamie answered heatedly. “And don’t tell me you don’t know my name. If you’re a figment of my imagination, you don’t need to know my name.”

  “But I don’t know your name, nor am I a figment of your imagination. That is just confusion and shock talking.” He paused, before adding helpfully, “My name is not Dude, it is — ”

  Geez, talk about sticking to the script.

  “I don’t need to know your name, just untie these things and let me up, okay?” Jamie snarled

  The catman’s head shook from side to side. “I can’t do that, sarai. The healers will be with us shortly.”

  Double geez. “Come on, mate, you know bloody well my name is Jamie Munroe…somehow my brothers and my best friend have set this up — it’s been fun,” he added through gritted teeth. “Not — but now it’s over. I want out of here. Now.”

  The catman’s elegant eyebrows rose. “I understood but part of that,” he replied, “but I am pleased, Jaimimunrow, that you recognise me as your mate.”

  “Jamie,” Jamie snapped. “Not Jaimimunrow, Jamie. Munrow — Munroe, dammit — is my second name, you dork. Oh shit, this is ridiculous. And I am not your mate!”

  “I am not a dork, I am a Naferi,” the catman responded, and then shook his head. “But no matter, the trip through the void has obviously disturbed your thought processes, Jamie, but soon all will be well and we will have you comfortably settled.”

  He leaned forward and pulled teasingly on one of Jamie’s ears, before adding repressively, “But if your address to me continues so disrespectful, my mate, you will find yourself over my knee for a good spanking.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, dude?” Jamie demanded and jerked himself against his restraints with all his might.

  The catman sighed heavily. “My name is not Dude, my mate. It is — ”

  The tinging of the door interrupted him, and he turned away from Jamie. An older catman appeared, his gaze dispassionate and impersonal, resolute with some hidden purpose.

  Jamie’s heart seemed suddenly to pitch itself down into his already churning stomach. He recognised that look — it was the sort of look that told him he wasn’t going to get out of whatever he’d gotten into…it was sort of look that told him he was in deep, deep shit. He sighed. Again.

  _________________________________

  THE OLDER CATMAN WORE a blue robe embroidered with silver sigils around its collar. Jamie decided he didn’t like the look of him at all.

  “If you’re some sort of doctor, I don’t want you to touch me,” he hissed. “I don’t give you permission to touch me in any way.”

  The first catman smiled at the newcomer. “I’m afraid he is not going to cooperate, Healer Tiff.”

  Healer Tiff nodded and spoke into his collar. A few seconds later, the door tinged again and two younger catmen came in; they were wearing blue robes as well, neither of which were as heavily embroidered as Tiff’s.

  “The specimen is recalcitrant,” Tiff informed them. “You will need to hold him steady while I examine him. Major Alekyn, you might like to stand aside while we conduct our examination.”

  “I will do so, Healer Tiff. Jaimimunrow — ” he corrected himself. “Jamie, do as the healer tells you and this will not be so bad.”

  “Fuck you!” Jamie yelled, struggling furiously against his bonds. “Let me go, you arseholes…I don’t give you my permission…you can’t do anything to me.”

  One of the aides snickered, garnering a quelling look from Tiff. “I’m sorry, sir, he’s just so…so feisty for such a little thing. And pretty too,” he added admiringly, stroking Jamie’s heaving chest.

  Alekyn growled softly and the aide’s ears flattened nervously as he quickly removed his hand. “Shall I gag him, sir?”

  “Shit, what is with you people? I’m not little…let go of me, let me go! Don’t you put that on me, don’t you bloody dare put — ”

  One of the aides held Jamie’s jaw open while the other positioned a ball gag in his mouth. As Jamie’s eyes spat venom at them, one of them pulled back the light sheet covering him. To his horror, the device holding his legs began to rise, elevating his lower body; at the same time, the device spread his legs apart so widely his hips began to ache. He was totally exposed and vulnerable, powerless to move or yell or protest in any way.

  Jamie’s breathing ratcheted up into desperate panting as he pulled at the restraints without success. With his head positioned below his hips, he could see his cock and balls flopping limply to one side. It looked deeply disturbing and it was deeply frightening.

  He noticed that the first catman — Alekyn? — had moved closer again, his attention fixed on Jamie’s junk, the bastard.

  With wide horrified eyes, drool dribbling around the gag and down the sides of his face, dripping onto his neck, Jamie watched as Healer Tiff was gloved by one of his aides. When the second glove snapped into place, Tiff stepped between Jamie’s legs and ran his fingers impersonally over Jamie’s cock, feeling along its length, pulling it a little before gently replacing it; then he lifted Jamie’s testicles as if calculating their weight.

  “Maist, record this, please. Visual as well as audio.”

  One of the aides nodded and produced a small recording device.

  Tiff resumed his examination as Jamie tried to writhe away from his touch. “Examination of specimen XTT743, captured and claimed by Clan Furis,” he intoned somberly. “The specimen, a member of a hitherto unknown species from a world in the newly discovered Solris Void, is male. It is apparently young and is certainly vigorous. Its genitalia are external — two nipples situated in the first quarter of its chest mass. Its penis is of reasonable length proportionate to its body mass. It has two testicles. While small in stature, its muscular development is sturdy; there seems to be sufficient space for…”

  Jamie grunted furiously around the gag, trying to dislodge it, as Tiff’s voice droned on in a professional monotone. This was unspeakable…

  “Samples taken while it was in stasis suggest it shares Foretimer ancestry with Naferis; I am about to test its compatibility with Naferi physiology…”

  The words sounded darkly like the tolling of a plague cart’s bell. Jamie stilled, terrified and appalled in equal measure, as Tiff reached for an impossibly long, improbably wide implement. At a nod, the two aides seized Jamie’s hips and thighs
, holding them even more rigidly as panic-stricken he struggled furiously. Then Tiff introduced the implement to Jamie’s anus, pressing it firmly, unrelentingly inward.

  Jamie could feel his screams welling up at the pain, could feel tears pouring down his cheeks, but he was now completely incapable of moving. Desperately his eyes tracked around the room until he met Alekyn’s gaze, mutely beseeching him to make them stop.

  Unbelievably, the blue gaze fixed on his prone body was concerned. “Healer Tiff, Jaimie Munroe is deeply distressed…the probe is hurting him. Please provide some pain relief before you proceed.”

  Tiff looked nonplussed at the interruption, and then stared at Jamie before removing the probe. “So he is, Major Alekyn. My apologies, I did not realise your creature could be so sensitive to pain. Maist, sedative and painkillers…he is evidently more fragile than most specimens we see.”

  “Does that mean he can’t be bred?” Alekyn asked anxiously. Jamie’s eyes bulged with a new horror — bred, what the fuck were they going to breed him to, some catwoman? So why the anal probe…some sick alien humor?

  Tiff harrumphed, “Not at all, not at all…he evidently doesn’t self-lubricate, so you will wait until he is prepared for breeding.”

  “So, he is suitable?” Alekyn sounded relieved and Jamie wondered why — did they want to breed him and the unknown catwoman to create some sort of exotic species of pet?

  Maist had returned, a tray holding a vial of oil and what looked like an injector in his hands. Tiff immediately took the injector and pressed it against Jamie’s thigh. His sight fading as the sedative took effect, Jamie saw Tiff tip the oil over the end of the implement and then lean forward once more. “Yes, most definitely; in fact, the best I’ve ever seen. He will carry kits more easily than most …”

  Thank god, thought Jamie, I had it wrong. No breeding for me, I’m just going to carry their kits.

  _______________________________