Axxios and Braxxus Page 9

  That seems to do the trick, and off I go. The next shop holds no interest for me. It's run by an exotic female selling potions. She has almost snow-white skin and green lips. She tries to get me to come closer so she can rub something into my palm, but I have a good excuse not to get lured in.

  The next stall isn’t a stall at all. Toward the back of the space, there’s a rope hung between two trees about four feet off the ground. A multi-colored blanket is slung over the top of the rope, creating a triangular shelter like an old-fashioned pup tent.

  But it’s not the tent that catches my attention, it’s the animal? Male? Being? Sitting to the side of it.

  He’s definitely male. I know this because he’s wearing no clothes, not even a scrap of loincloth. His genitals are hanging out on display. He’s squatting, knees splayed wide, hands on the ground in front of him in a decidedly canine posture. His body seems otherwise humanoid.

  He has pointed dog-like ears, mostly hidden by his unkempt black-and-brown brindle hair. He has one ice-blue eye, one deep brown. His face has canine aspects in a way I can’t quantify because what I’m really aware of is the fact that his entire attention—his entire being—is focused on the huge haunch of meat clutched in my hand.

  I glance over at the guys and see that Axx is watching me like a hawk. I salute him with my free hand and give him a little smile, which seems to satisfy him; he turns his attention back to the display tables.

  The dog-man’s attention hasn’t wavered from my revensell. His lips are pulled back, exposing some wicked canines. He’s salivating and producing a low growl from the back of his throat.

  As I inspect him further, I notice what poor shape he’s in. I can see the outline of his bones through the skin on his legs and arms. His collarbones are pressing against the tanned flesh of his chest. This male is starving to death in front of my eyes!

  My glance darts to the twins and I catch Braxx’s eye. He’s happy as always as he holds up a knife of some sort. I assume he’s picked something he wants to buy. I can’t help but remember how emaciated he was when he first came on board. He’d been so poorly treated, so abused he was close to death.

  My eyes skitter to the male squatting in this open field. I don’t know if he’s even aware of my existence. He seems focused only on the meat clutched in my hand.

  I take one tiny step forward and his eyes widen as his haunches lift higher, as if he’ll pounce the moment I get within the circle of his metal chain.

  He’s staked to the ground, as well as wearing a pain/kill collar. He’s drooling more profusely now, deep growling noises are escaping from his mouth.

  “Shut the drack up!” an angry male voice yells from under the blanket tent.

  “Um,” I call. “Uh, sir, may I feed this…” I don’t know what to call the being on the chain.

  A shaggy head and rotund torso protrude from the makeshift tent. He’s a heavy, porcine humanoid with upthrust tusks and rounded eyes. His belly and arms are huge and beefy, yet his legs are almost spindly. He’s old, with wrinkles that lie in thick, dirty folds. By the look of him, that face hasn’t smiled in a long time.

  “Stand back, female. That geneslave’s a guard animal. He’ll maul you if you get too close.”

  “He looks hungry.”

  “He is. He’s always hungry. He’d eat half my paycheck if I let him.”

  “I’m done with my revensell.” I hold it up; I’ve taken maybe ten bites. “Mind if I give it to him?”

  “Sure, I’ll take it off your hands,” his voice is as oily as the rest of him.

  “I’d like to give it to him myself if that’s okay. What’s his name?”

  “Don’t have no name. I call him Drack. I’ll take that meat.” He points to the haunch with his filthy double chin.

  How do I keep the food away from this asshole and get it to the poor...geneslave?

  “He reminds me of my pet at home. I’d like to give it to him myself.”

  The male on the chain seems completely uninterested in the verbal exchange between me and his owner. His eyes haven’t left the meat.

  “Do what you want you crazy bitch,” the male says, then lazily ducks back into his tent.

  I glance over and see Axx and Braxx in sober deliberations as they haggle with their shopkeeper. I know they’ll blow a gasket if they discover I’m doing this, so I move quickly.

  I’m not stupid. I’m not getting close enough for those sharp canines to take a bite out of me. I grab a long stick off the ground nearby, wipe it on the inside hem of my dress, and poke it through the thickest part of the meat.

  “Here you go, boy.” I lift the stick toward him and edge closer.

  For the first time, his gaze leaves the food. He looks me straight in the eyes. I don’t know what a geneslave is, but I am absolutely certain he’s a sentient being. There’s intelligence in those large brown eyes.

  My feet don’t leave the path. I’m not getting closer until I see how close that chain will allow him to get to me.

  “Come on, boy. Come toward me until your chain is tight.”

  Perhaps he understands me, because he approaches me on all fours. The chain isn’t tight yet, though.

  “Hurry.” I glance at the guys. It looks like they’re almost done with their purchase. Somehow I know they’ll disapprove of me getting even this close to that drooling mouth full of sharp teeth.

  He inches closer until the chain pulls at his throat, then comes a bit closer, as if to prove he’s at the end of his tether.

  “There you go. Good boy.” I extend my stick just far enough for him to grab the meat with his hands. The whole time I’m coaching myself to just drop the stick if he tries to grab it and yank me toward him.

  I shouldn’t have worried, though. He slides the meat off, turns his back to the tent and proceeds to inhale the meat at a shocking rate. The smacking noises he’s making are nauseating, but I guess they’re a product of getting as much food down your throat in the least amount of time possible.

  “Did that stupid bitch give you all that meat, boy?” I hear from the sullen slaver. He pokes his greasy, snarled head out of the tent and moves to the male with surprising speed.

  It’s like watching a race where you desperately want one contestant to win. I want the male on the ground to scrape every morsel off the bone before the approaching asshole gets to him. No wonder the geneslave was inhaling that meat. He knew he had less than a minute to get his fill before it was yanked away.

  “Give me that, you piece of shit.” The old man kicks him soundly in his side. It doesn’t stop the dog-man, though. He just lies on the ground, his back toward his owner, and keeps tearing as much meat off the bone as is possible before the slaver touches the controller on his wrist to activate the geneslave’s pain/kill collar.

  The geneslave lets out an agonized yelp, yet somehow keeps getting food into his mouth until the second shock. All his muscles go stiff as an unearthly pain-filled howl escapes his lips. Then he goes limp.

  I must have screamed because Axx and Braxx are running toward me. I realize I have tears snaking down my cheeks. Although my captors never activated my collar, I’ve worn one. I can only imagine how painful that must have been for the male lying motionless on the ground.

  “Are you okay?” Braxx asks as he leans his face into mine, eyes wide in fright.

  I glance over to see Axxios nearby, gun drawn, ready to protect me.

  “I’m fine, guys. It’s just…” I point to the supine figure on the ground. The old shithead must be back in his tent. “That male was starving. I gave him my revensell. His owner shocked him to steal the meat out of his hands.”

  Axx, gun in hand, walks closer to inspect the male on the ground. “He’s a geneslave, Brianna. What were you thinking? How close did you get?”

  “I gave him the meat on a stick when he was at the end of his chain. I’m not stupid. What’s a geneslave?”

  Braxx’s arm circles my waist as he explains, “The Federation is rumor
ed to be doing genetic experiments. I’ve heard they throw genetic material into a test tube, let it gestate, destroy the obvious deformities, and raise the rest. Sounds like they’re trying to breed the perfect soldier.

  “They deny they’re doing such things, but rumor has it the Feds call them ‘Products.’ Folks around the galaxy call them ‘geneslaves’. ”

  Axx stalks over, flanks my other side, pulls me toward him, and presses a close-lipped kiss to my temple. I look at him, one brow raised in question. I’ve seen Axx in many moods. Most of them naked and sweaty. I’ve never seen him tender before.

  His response to my unspoken question is to give me a soft kiss on my mouth. “Don’t worry us like that again, Angel. Let’s all get back to the Slacker alive today,” he chuckles.

  “We can’t leave him here. That old fucker is going to kill him. Look how thin he is.”

  “We can’t bring every stray we find back on board our vessel, Brianna. Besides, geneslaves are part animal. We have no idea what that thing is capable of,” Braxx says.

  “Look at him, Braxx. You were an inch away from death, and you weren’t even as thin as he is. He’s being beaten regularly, he’s malnourished. Don’t you feel for him?”

  “Feel for him? Yes. Want to bring an unknown alien aboard our ship? No.” He shakes his head. “Besides, Captain Zar won’t allow it. He wouldn’t even let Petra come on board and she’s an Earth female. She had to buy her way onto our vessel. Our resources are limited.”

  “Please?” Oops, did I really say that? Was I asking like a five-year-old asks her parents to bring home a stray?

  “Did he speak to you, Brianna?” Axxios asks. “Is he even capable of speech? Is he a sentient being or just an animal?”

  How odd that Braxx is the harsher of the two, and Axx is trying to persuade me with logic.

  “No.”

  “Earth must have been a wonderful paradise if every injustice bothers you so much. The rest of the galaxy isn’t such a nice place. There’s war and famine and slavery here. We can’t right every wrong or correct every abuse, Angel,” Axx says. “I’m sorry you can’t fix everything you see that pulls at your heart.”

  I look at him to see if he’s mocking me, but his face is full of sweet concern. He kisses my forehead, like he’s bestowing all his strength and affection on me. This gesture is so tender my knees weaken. I have to reach up and hold onto his strong arms to steady myself.

  “We can’t fix this, Angel. I’m sorry,” he whispers in my ear and pulls me down the pathway.

  I look back, the male is still lying in the dirt, unmoving. I keep telling myself there’s nothing I can do, but my stomach churns with guilt.

  Chapter Ten

  Axxios

  Looking back, I think I’d noticed some changes before I saw the evidence of Braxx’s erection the other night. But the fact that my silver had an erection proves Brianna’s our bondmate.

  I had suspicions the moment I saw her. She’s the exact image painted on the rotunda of our room. But that could have been a fluke. It wasn’t surprising when Braxx called her ‘Angel.’ How could he not?

  But things have been changing inside me since Braxx came out of his coma. I’m more tuned in to Brianna’s moods as well as my own. When I stroke myself I imagine kissing her more and holding her after—which I never did before. Here on Fairea I’ve noticed my protective instincts are off the charts.

  I’d always wondered what would happen when...if...we found our bondmate. For most Mythrians, nothing changes for the gold. He continues to make most of the decisions, he maintains his aggressive drives, and his sexual appetites don’t change unless they increase.

  It’s the silver who does most of the transforming. He develops a sex drive while maintaining his ability to connect to his emotions.

  Some golds, however, develop a closer connection to their emotional side. I think that’s happening to me. And I’m not certain I like it. I don’t want to lose my edge. I don’t want to become weak. I’m the one who ultimately has to protect everyone.

  But I have to admit, Brie’s softening toward me today. She’s definitely letting down her guard, and that feels fantastic.

  Her delicate, little hand snags mine and nestles in my grip. I look over at her and catch her smiling at me. Her actions seem effortless and unaffected. She simply seems happy to be in my presence. I’ve never known her to act this way before. She’s holding Braxx’s hand in her right and mine in her left and looking around at all the chaotic hubbub as if it’s the most fascinating place she’s ever seen.

  “Did you each buy a knife? I want to see,” she demands.

  Braxx eagerly pulls her off the path between two booths so we don’t get trampled. As the day’s gone by the crush of people has gotten worse.

  “Look, Brie,” Braxx says excitedly, “I’ve never seen one like this. I think they’re only sold on the black market—and here.” He pulls out his knife. It’s about eight inches long, with a black metal blade. “But look!” He presses a button under the guard and the blade illuminates and turns red, converting it into a laser.

  “Can I see?” Brianna reaches out to touch it, but Braxx immediately pulls it away. “Super dangerous, Brie. This could slice off your fingers.”

  Brianna pulls her hand back as if it was burned. “Whoa, I wasn’t thinking.”

  He keeps a steady hold on the knife, but steps closer so he can show her where the hidden mechanism is.

  “Cool,” she says.

  “Right, lasers don’t get hot.”

  “Oh,” she laughs, “on Earth ‘cool’ means neat.”

  Braxx looks confused.

  “Okay, I’ll turn into a human thesaurus. Cool means good, interesting, excellent.”

  “Got it! You and this knife are cool.”

  “Axxios, make him stop complimenting me. He’s new at this. Teach him the rules.”

  “Great idea, Brianna. Since Braxx is new, let’s make new rules. We can vote on them. All in favor of forbidding the use of the word beautiful say yes.”

  “Yes.”

  “I only hear one ‘yes,’ you’re outvoted,” I pronounce. “All in favor of restricting compliments to the beautiful lady say yes.”

  “Yes.”

  “I only hear one ‘yes,’ you’re outvoted.” I nod my head with finality.

  “All in favor of no more massages, say yes.” I spear her with a look I hope is so blatant, so unambiguous she couldn’t possibly interpret it as anything other than the shameless proposition that it is.

  “Yes.”

  “I only hear one ‘yes,’” Braxx joins in the fun, but his eyes are burning with desire. What a revelation, to see my silver flirting shamelessly. I can’t wait to see more of his transformation. “You’re outvoted.”

  “Are you having fun with us Axx? I wish you could see your face. There.” She points at a hat shop two stalls down and pulls me until I’m standing in front of a mirror. “Look at yourself.”

  I peer at myself in the mirror. I haven’t seen this look on my face since I was a gray. I’m happy. The corners of my lips are turned up, my facial muscles are relaxed, and my eyes are sparkling.

  Realizing I haven’t experienced joy in twenty years makes my chest ache. Really? Has being a gold turned me to stone? I’d never acknowledged it before, but I always envied Braxx. Being silver, he never had the pressure I did. He could be childish and silly and have fun.

  When Braxx was still in a coma, Dr. Drayke showed me scans of my twin’s long bones. The doc said he’s never seen anyone who’d been so badly tortured. I haven’t had the heart to ask him about it, nor has Braxx mentioned it. I’d take the pain for him if I could. It’s what golds do.

  You’d never know what he’d been through by looking at him. He’s his usual happy self. This proves he’s stronger than I ever gave him credit.

  Gods! I love my brother. I reach over and pull him to me so quick and hard he falls against me to keep from tipping over. “I love you, gem. I never fo
rgave myself when I saw your ship blow up. I thought you were dead. I took responsibility. I’m so glad you’re alive.” I squeeze him tight.

  Instead of embarrassing him and causing him to pull away, he hugs me back. Perhaps he gave his staff to Brie because he’s got me in an impossibly tight hug. “I love you, too, Axx. I’ve missed you since you became a gold. You pulled away. Our bond was never the same. I felt abandoned.”

  He puts his lips to my ear, “This is the tri-bond, right? You have...emotions again? I get my brother back? I love you.” He pats my back.

  I’m pulled back to the present when the shopkeeper clears his throat loudly enough to be heard two stalls down. I step back, make certain Braxx has his staff in his hand, then step completely away.