Spliced AU Stand Alone Story - Part 1/2
Sorry for the long hiatus. It's been a busy summer for me, but I think things will be calmer again now and I should have time to resume regular updates soon. In the meantime, I have this to share. I wrote it late last year, based on a prompt: Matt, cage. I was saving it for a time like this.
It's completely independent from the main story (hence the AU). Hope you all enjoy.
Seething, Matt kicked the bars.
The slaves in the other cages jumped, giving him nervous looks. Their tiny prisons were evenly spaced in two rows, creating an aisle between them, with more empty ones at the far end. The eyes of the slave across from him darted between Matt and the door, fearful that he’d draw their captors’ attention. Only one of them dared to make a shushing sound, the others too well trained to give even a semblance of an order to a free man, no matter his current predicament.
Let them come. I’m not fucking scared. These Tercottans wouldn’t dare do anything to him, not when he was valuable to them alive. Alive, not unharmed, he suddenly realized, correcting himself. His caution overcoming his anger, he stopped, letting his feet drop to the cage’s floor. The bars were too firm anyway, and it’d be far more difficult to escape with broken ribs and a concussion.
His eyes drifted over to the nearby slaves. All valuable merchandise these criminals would sell on some black market. They huddled in cages like his own, high enough to sit in but not stand, standard fare for transporting slaves.
Except I’m not an ashen fucking slave. His hand clenched around one of the bars. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been trapped in here; he’d been ambushed and drugged and woken up in this place. The distant rumble of the engine told him they were on a ship, but he’d no idea how long they’d been traveling. They were deep in the cargo bay, without even a window for a compass.
With growing apprehension he realized they might not even be on Karta anymore. He examined his surroundings more closely, but failed to determine what class of ship he was on. The main lights in this bay were off, leaving only the emergency lights to allow meager visibility. From the design of it though, he could see this was a Tercottan ship, not a Kartan one. Outsiders weren’t generally very welcome on Karta, but, he thought with a snort, pirates didn’t ask for invitations.
No, they just took what they wanted. His stomach churned. From the snide words he’d caught when they captured him, they planned to ransom him. Normally it would make sense; he was from a prestigious Kartan family. But they didn’t know his father.
My loving father will be happy to have an excuse to be rid of me. In fact, Matt wondered with rising paranoia, maybe his father had hired these men himself, or brought him to their attention. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. His father had been short with him for years, obviously disgusted with his disappointing son, but lately he’d been ignoring Matt altogether. As if he’d already labeled him a lost cause.
I did everything the bastard wanted, and yet in his eyes I’ll never be good enough for the family name.
Despair made him slump against the bars, arms curling around his knees. There’d be no ransom. This gave his father the perfect chance to ‘lose’ him. He was going to die on this fucking ship. Staring at the bars blankly, he thought over his wasted life. He could see his tombstone already, “Matthias Muldane, beloved to none, lifelong fuck up.”
No, he wouldn't let that happen. His stubborn nature reasserting itself, he sloughed off the depression. There had to be a way out of here. He pulled at the lock on the door, but it was as sturdy as the bars. He needed something to pry or pick it with. An examination of the floor around him revealed nothing useful, but he spotted something near one of the slaves’ cages.
“Toss that over here.” The doe-eyed slave with long dark hair was reluctant to do anything that would bring trouble on his head, but he wouldn’t resist a direct order from a superior. Unhappily he obeyed, tossing the stick over.
Matt hefted it in his hands. The branch was far more brittle than he’d hoped. It must have blown in while the Tercottans were loading the cargo hold. With no other alternatives he tried it anyway, attempting to use it as a crowbar. Cursing under his breath, he only succeeded in breaking the thing and giving himself a few splinters. Disgusted, he threw the split branch toward a wall, brushing the random bits off of himself and away from the cage door.
For a long time he considered other possibilities, refusing to give up. Eventually he dozed off though, huddled in his coat, unable to do anything but sleep. He was jarred awake what felt like hours later when one of the Tercottans entered the cargo hold. An unruly mane fell past his shoulders, and he looked in need of a shave, but his clothes were good quality, although in a strange, colorful style that Matt assumed must be Tercottan. He approached the cages carrying a box.
Matt summoned some bluster. “How dare you fucking do this to me? Release me!”
The Tercottan grinned, showing teeth in need of a trip to the dentist. “Ah, the spoiled brats are always easy to tell.”
Matt scowled at the older man. He hadn’t been called a brat since he was ten. “Fuck you.”
“All you gotta do is sit there quietly til your family pays up, but ya can’t even manage that,” the asshole said, shaking his head. Placing the box on the floor, he moved across the room, retrieving a silver rod. Holding it out, he approached Matt’s cage. “Mouthy brats gotta be taught ta mind their manners.”
Matt tensed against the back of the cage, but there was nowhere to go. He kicked at the rod as the Tercottan shoved it in, seeking to turn it aside. “Motherfucker.”
He succeeded the first two times, the long rod passing through the bars on the opposite side while leaving him untouched. On the third try the bastard feinted, changing his angle, and the rod pressed against his hip, delivering a bone jarring shock. As he lay dazed, his body twitching, the Tercottan shocked him again, forcing a scream out of him.
His spasming limbs keeping him down on the floor, he glared at the Tercottan, watching as he removed containers of synth food from the box. He distributed them to each of the slaves, pausing outside of Matt’s cage empty-handed to say, “Brats don’t get to eat. Maybe you’ll behave next time.”
“Fuck you,” he managed, but the words lacked strength, and the Tercottan laughed at him. Too caught up in his agony, he barely noticed the door slamming shut.
“Are you all right, sir?” a blond slave to his left asked, his gaze sympathetic.
A laugh choked out of him. “No.”
“Try taking deep breaths, sir. I think it will help.”
It did help, especially with the blond's soft voice talking him through it. By forcing his breathing to slow, his heart stopped feeling like it was trying to hammer its way out of his chest. It was a while before the shakes stopped, his brain finally regaining control of his muscles. The thought overwhelming his mind was, I never want to feel that ever again.
He sat up slowly, his whole body feeling raw. Accomplishing even that little felt like a victory. The five slaves were eating the synth food, but rather than feeling hungry-not that he would’ve had much appetite for that crap-he felt nauseated. The shocks had left his stomach feeling uncertain about anything, much less bad food.
But he did have another pressing need. On the floor of the cage there was a panel that lifted up, revealing a hole for waste. It was embarrassing to unzip his pants and use it, but still preferable to pissing himself. Unflinching bars, cages bolted to the floor, and a waste system-these bastards had thought of everything. His imprisonment was both offensive and effective. He wouldn’t be able to escape until they opened the door for him, and they wouldn’t be doing that for anything short of their final plans for him.
Time passed slowly with nothing to do, and eventually he fell asleep once more, his body wrung out. The opening of the cargo door awakened him again, two different Tercottans appearing. This time Matt just glared at them silently, but they ignored him anyway, eyes on the slaves.
After some murmured conference, they dragged out two of the slaves. A peremptory cuff across the face warned the clones not to struggle. With an uneasy feeling, Matt watched them drag a brunette female and the blond male who’d spoken to him earlier from the room.
“Come on, slut,” the taller man said, pushing the cowering blond through the open doorway. There was a ring of finality to the shutting of the door behind them, echoing through the cargo hold. Matt looked over at the remaining slaves, observing the restless shift of limbs and the fear in their eyes.
The minutes ticked by slowly, and Matt found himself assaulted by an unfamiliar feeling. He was still scared about his own fate here, but he was also worried for the blond slave. Worried. About a slave. Matt tried to shake the emotion away but couldn’t. The blond had a pretty, fragile face, the kind that tears only enhanced. It would encourage the men to be rough with him.
The door finally opened, and the Tercottans escorted the slaves back into the hold. Their clothes were missing, welts covered their backsides, and they were limping. Telltale fluid dripped down their thighs. The woman’s eyes glistened with tears, but she didn’t speak, only letting out a whimper when one of the men grabbed her arm and shoved her back into her cage. Another shove and a clang, and the blond was locked back into his cage as well.
“Don’t worry,” the shorter Tercottan said, leering as his gaze roamed over the other slaves, “you’ll all get your turn.”
His taller companion reached into the box their friend had left behind. He gave more synth food to the slaves they’d just returned. “Here, sluts, even giving you a reward.”
“Thank you, sir,” the woman said in a broken voice.
The blond took a little longer. “Thank you, sir.”
The man snatched the food back from him. “A little slow to show your gratitude, slut. Perhaps you need a lesson in manners.”
“I’m sorry, master. Please, I did not mean to seem ungrateful. Thank you, thank you,” he replied, nearly babbling in his panic.
Matt debated whether to intervene. He understood teaching slaves proper respect and discipline, but this asshole was taking it too far. Particularly considering these slaves didn’t belong to them; they’d fucking stolen them. However, Matt didn’t think speaking up would do anything but make the situation worse.
Thankfully, the slave’s groveling seemed to satisfy the bastard. “Better,” he said, putting the food back down in front of the cage.
They left after that, silence descending on the room again.
Matt studied the blond. He ate only half of the synth food, putting the container aside after a few minutes and curling up on the floor of his cage. Naked now, he was shivering. Fingering the coat he wore, Matt debated whether to give it to him. He was just a slave; he should be used to enduring things. Plus it wouldn’t do for Matt to give him the coat just to then be cold himself. But the slave had tried to help him. He didn’t like the feeling of owing him anything.
“Here,” he said, removing the coat and tossing it towards his cage.
The blond’s eyes widened, looking at him with something akin to hero worship. “Thank you, sir,” he said, sounding much more sincere than he had earlier. He slid his arms into the sleeves and closed the front, huddling in it. The coat hung overlarge on his small body, like a boy wearing his dad’s clothes.
More time passed, and Matt periodically kicked the bars in frustration. He hated feeling so helpless, and being forced to wait and see what would happen only made the situation worse, as did the growing certainty that he was doomed. While his father would not pay any ransom, his grandfather would. Unfortunately, even if his father was innocent in all this, he wouldn’t tell Matt’s grandfather what was happening. They loathed each other with the heat of ten suns.
The door opened again, the Tercottan bastard who’d shocked him entering the room. Light from the hallway spilled into the room, and the man paused, looking at the cages.
Before Matt could figure out what the bastard wanted this time, another figure appeared in the doorway, shooting the Tercottan in the back. As he watched the man topple to the ground, Matt wondered, What the fuck?
The stranger turned about with his weapon at the ready, searching for any further threats. Finding none, he switched on the lights and approached the cages.
It gave Matt a closer look at him. He moved with lithe grace, his lean body easy on the eyes, as was his face. His brown hair was pulled back into a tail, which gave his handsome features a more severe appearance, but he looked to be somewhere in his twenties.
His gun lowered to his side now as he looked at the cages. “Are you all okay?”
They were being rescued? His pessimistic mind had thought this man another pirate of some kind. Relief swept through him. “Yes, just get me out of here.”
One dark eyebrow crooked up at Matt, before his gaze focused on the slaves. “Where are the keys?”
One of the slaves pointed over at the wall. “There I think, sir.”
He retrieved them, but ignored Matt, who stared at him aghast. Instead he went to the female slave first, the one who no longer had clothes. She wouldn’t even get out, trembling in the back of her cage.
The stranger crouched down, speaking to her in a gentle voice. “It’s okay. I’m here to help you. I won’t hurt you.”
She watched him with wary eyes, until he took off the jacket he wore, offering it to her. Snatching it from him, she pulled it over herself. The man smiled at her. “You come out when you’re ready.”
Matt found himself watching the way the stranger’s shirt tightened across his shoulders as he pushed himself to his feet. He went to the blond slave next, opening his cage and asking if he was all right. Their rescuer’s eyes shifted from the coat on the blond to Matt before turning back to the slave. More soft, encouraging words followed, and then he was moving on to the next slave.
“Open this fucking thing.” Matt scowled, pissed that he’d been right next to his cage and still ignored him.
A glare from the stranger. “In a minute. You’ll live til then.”
He let all the slaves out first, checking over each of them, before deigning to bring his attention back to Matt, who’d been cursing him under his breath.
The man sent him a look. “That tact thing, ever heard of it?”
“No need to let me out last,” Matt said.
The stranger grinned. “Technically, no need to let you out at all.” Considering he was reaching for the lock as he said it, Matt didn’t take it a real threat. Opening the door, he held out a hand to help Matt up.
He took it, feeling heat lance up his arm as their palms touched. His gaze flew to the man’s brown eyes, and he read the same surprise in them that he felt. Then he was on his feet, the man letting go of him, and part of him mourned the loss of contact.
Their eyes remained on each other for one long moment, and then the stranger turned away. He went back to the female, who was still cowering in her cage.
Meanwhile, the blond slave sidled closer to Matt. Eyes properly downcast, his hand fingered the edge of the coat. “Sir, did you…”
“Keep it for now.”
The slave knelt, the motion not as fluid as it should’ve been, but the pirates were no doubt to blame for that. “Thank you, sir.”
Matt stroked the blond’s hair in acknowledgment before letting his hand slide away.
Having coaxed the woman out at last, the man took out his PC and made a call. “I’ve got them. You have everything secured?”
“Yeah, we’re coming to you right now.” It was the gruff voice of an older man.
“Good,” he said, before hanging up.
“What’s your name?” Matt asked him.
“Alex Senneth.” The man didn’t even approach him, much less shake his hand. “You’re Matthias Muldane, right?”
“Yeah.” Matt frowned in confusion.
“Your grandfather will be very happy to have you back.” Alex grinned. “He decided he’d rather pay someone to rescue you than pay ransom to the pirate bastards who abducted you.”
Matt smiled. Yeah, that sounded like his grandfather.
The door opened then, revealing a middle-aged couple and a younger woman. The latter walked straight to Alex, linking her arm through his. The way they leaned into each other spoke of long time intimacy. “Everyone okay?”
Matt’s disappointment at seeing Alex with the woman was palpable. But while that feeling was understandable, the immediate jolt of jealousy took him by surprise.
“Yeah,” Alex was saying. He directed his next words at the older man. “Two of them need to be looked at. The others seem to be okay, but we should make sure.”
“Of course.” The man turned to the slaves, a kindness in his demeanor despite his brusque voice. “Gonna take you all back to our ship and take care of ya. All right?”
It was met with uneasy silence, and Matt rolled his eyes. You didn’t confuse slaves with questions; you gave them orders.
“Let’s go then,” he said. Eager to get the hell out of this room, Matt headed for the door. Rising, the blond followed after him, and he heard more footsteps as the other slaves followed the blond.
Unsure which direction to go, he waited out in the passageway. Alex came out after the slaves, and guided them to their destination.
As he followed Alex off the Tercottan ship, Matt felt a rush of relief and gratitude, the fear plaguing him since he’d awakened a prisoner finally dissipating. But even amidst the solace of reaching safety, his eyes couldn’t help lingering on Alex’s ass. The man had a fine one.
Part 2
It's completely independent from the main story (hence the AU). Hope you all enjoy.
Seething, Matt kicked the bars.
The slaves in the other cages jumped, giving him nervous looks. Their tiny prisons were evenly spaced in two rows, creating an aisle between them, with more empty ones at the far end. The eyes of the slave across from him darted between Matt and the door, fearful that he’d draw their captors’ attention. Only one of them dared to make a shushing sound, the others too well trained to give even a semblance of an order to a free man, no matter his current predicament.
Let them come. I’m not fucking scared. These Tercottans wouldn’t dare do anything to him, not when he was valuable to them alive. Alive, not unharmed, he suddenly realized, correcting himself. His caution overcoming his anger, he stopped, letting his feet drop to the cage’s floor. The bars were too firm anyway, and it’d be far more difficult to escape with broken ribs and a concussion.
His eyes drifted over to the nearby slaves. All valuable merchandise these criminals would sell on some black market. They huddled in cages like his own, high enough to sit in but not stand, standard fare for transporting slaves.
Except I’m not an ashen fucking slave. His hand clenched around one of the bars. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been trapped in here; he’d been ambushed and drugged and woken up in this place. The distant rumble of the engine told him they were on a ship, but he’d no idea how long they’d been traveling. They were deep in the cargo bay, without even a window for a compass.
With growing apprehension he realized they might not even be on Karta anymore. He examined his surroundings more closely, but failed to determine what class of ship he was on. The main lights in this bay were off, leaving only the emergency lights to allow meager visibility. From the design of it though, he could see this was a Tercottan ship, not a Kartan one. Outsiders weren’t generally very welcome on Karta, but, he thought with a snort, pirates didn’t ask for invitations.
No, they just took what they wanted. His stomach churned. From the snide words he’d caught when they captured him, they planned to ransom him. Normally it would make sense; he was from a prestigious Kartan family. But they didn’t know his father.
My loving father will be happy to have an excuse to be rid of me. In fact, Matt wondered with rising paranoia, maybe his father had hired these men himself, or brought him to their attention. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. His father had been short with him for years, obviously disgusted with his disappointing son, but lately he’d been ignoring Matt altogether. As if he’d already labeled him a lost cause.
I did everything the bastard wanted, and yet in his eyes I’ll never be good enough for the family name.
Despair made him slump against the bars, arms curling around his knees. There’d be no ransom. This gave his father the perfect chance to ‘lose’ him. He was going to die on this fucking ship. Staring at the bars blankly, he thought over his wasted life. He could see his tombstone already, “Matthias Muldane, beloved to none, lifelong fuck up.”
No, he wouldn't let that happen. His stubborn nature reasserting itself, he sloughed off the depression. There had to be a way out of here. He pulled at the lock on the door, but it was as sturdy as the bars. He needed something to pry or pick it with. An examination of the floor around him revealed nothing useful, but he spotted something near one of the slaves’ cages.
“Toss that over here.” The doe-eyed slave with long dark hair was reluctant to do anything that would bring trouble on his head, but he wouldn’t resist a direct order from a superior. Unhappily he obeyed, tossing the stick over.
Matt hefted it in his hands. The branch was far more brittle than he’d hoped. It must have blown in while the Tercottans were loading the cargo hold. With no other alternatives he tried it anyway, attempting to use it as a crowbar. Cursing under his breath, he only succeeded in breaking the thing and giving himself a few splinters. Disgusted, he threw the split branch toward a wall, brushing the random bits off of himself and away from the cage door.
For a long time he considered other possibilities, refusing to give up. Eventually he dozed off though, huddled in his coat, unable to do anything but sleep. He was jarred awake what felt like hours later when one of the Tercottans entered the cargo hold. An unruly mane fell past his shoulders, and he looked in need of a shave, but his clothes were good quality, although in a strange, colorful style that Matt assumed must be Tercottan. He approached the cages carrying a box.
Matt summoned some bluster. “How dare you fucking do this to me? Release me!”
The Tercottan grinned, showing teeth in need of a trip to the dentist. “Ah, the spoiled brats are always easy to tell.”
Matt scowled at the older man. He hadn’t been called a brat since he was ten. “Fuck you.”
“All you gotta do is sit there quietly til your family pays up, but ya can’t even manage that,” the asshole said, shaking his head. Placing the box on the floor, he moved across the room, retrieving a silver rod. Holding it out, he approached Matt’s cage. “Mouthy brats gotta be taught ta mind their manners.”
Matt tensed against the back of the cage, but there was nowhere to go. He kicked at the rod as the Tercottan shoved it in, seeking to turn it aside. “Motherfucker.”
He succeeded the first two times, the long rod passing through the bars on the opposite side while leaving him untouched. On the third try the bastard feinted, changing his angle, and the rod pressed against his hip, delivering a bone jarring shock. As he lay dazed, his body twitching, the Tercottan shocked him again, forcing a scream out of him.
His spasming limbs keeping him down on the floor, he glared at the Tercottan, watching as he removed containers of synth food from the box. He distributed them to each of the slaves, pausing outside of Matt’s cage empty-handed to say, “Brats don’t get to eat. Maybe you’ll behave next time.”
“Fuck you,” he managed, but the words lacked strength, and the Tercottan laughed at him. Too caught up in his agony, he barely noticed the door slamming shut.
“Are you all right, sir?” a blond slave to his left asked, his gaze sympathetic.
A laugh choked out of him. “No.”
“Try taking deep breaths, sir. I think it will help.”
It did help, especially with the blond's soft voice talking him through it. By forcing his breathing to slow, his heart stopped feeling like it was trying to hammer its way out of his chest. It was a while before the shakes stopped, his brain finally regaining control of his muscles. The thought overwhelming his mind was, I never want to feel that ever again.
He sat up slowly, his whole body feeling raw. Accomplishing even that little felt like a victory. The five slaves were eating the synth food, but rather than feeling hungry-not that he would’ve had much appetite for that crap-he felt nauseated. The shocks had left his stomach feeling uncertain about anything, much less bad food.
But he did have another pressing need. On the floor of the cage there was a panel that lifted up, revealing a hole for waste. It was embarrassing to unzip his pants and use it, but still preferable to pissing himself. Unflinching bars, cages bolted to the floor, and a waste system-these bastards had thought of everything. His imprisonment was both offensive and effective. He wouldn’t be able to escape until they opened the door for him, and they wouldn’t be doing that for anything short of their final plans for him.
Time passed slowly with nothing to do, and eventually he fell asleep once more, his body wrung out. The opening of the cargo door awakened him again, two different Tercottans appearing. This time Matt just glared at them silently, but they ignored him anyway, eyes on the slaves.
After some murmured conference, they dragged out two of the slaves. A peremptory cuff across the face warned the clones not to struggle. With an uneasy feeling, Matt watched them drag a brunette female and the blond male who’d spoken to him earlier from the room.
“Come on, slut,” the taller man said, pushing the cowering blond through the open doorway. There was a ring of finality to the shutting of the door behind them, echoing through the cargo hold. Matt looked over at the remaining slaves, observing the restless shift of limbs and the fear in their eyes.
The minutes ticked by slowly, and Matt found himself assaulted by an unfamiliar feeling. He was still scared about his own fate here, but he was also worried for the blond slave. Worried. About a slave. Matt tried to shake the emotion away but couldn’t. The blond had a pretty, fragile face, the kind that tears only enhanced. It would encourage the men to be rough with him.
The door finally opened, and the Tercottans escorted the slaves back into the hold. Their clothes were missing, welts covered their backsides, and they were limping. Telltale fluid dripped down their thighs. The woman’s eyes glistened with tears, but she didn’t speak, only letting out a whimper when one of the men grabbed her arm and shoved her back into her cage. Another shove and a clang, and the blond was locked back into his cage as well.
“Don’t worry,” the shorter Tercottan said, leering as his gaze roamed over the other slaves, “you’ll all get your turn.”
His taller companion reached into the box their friend had left behind. He gave more synth food to the slaves they’d just returned. “Here, sluts, even giving you a reward.”
“Thank you, sir,” the woman said in a broken voice.
The blond took a little longer. “Thank you, sir.”
The man snatched the food back from him. “A little slow to show your gratitude, slut. Perhaps you need a lesson in manners.”
“I’m sorry, master. Please, I did not mean to seem ungrateful. Thank you, thank you,” he replied, nearly babbling in his panic.
Matt debated whether to intervene. He understood teaching slaves proper respect and discipline, but this asshole was taking it too far. Particularly considering these slaves didn’t belong to them; they’d fucking stolen them. However, Matt didn’t think speaking up would do anything but make the situation worse.
Thankfully, the slave’s groveling seemed to satisfy the bastard. “Better,” he said, putting the food back down in front of the cage.
They left after that, silence descending on the room again.
Matt studied the blond. He ate only half of the synth food, putting the container aside after a few minutes and curling up on the floor of his cage. Naked now, he was shivering. Fingering the coat he wore, Matt debated whether to give it to him. He was just a slave; he should be used to enduring things. Plus it wouldn’t do for Matt to give him the coat just to then be cold himself. But the slave had tried to help him. He didn’t like the feeling of owing him anything.
“Here,” he said, removing the coat and tossing it towards his cage.
The blond’s eyes widened, looking at him with something akin to hero worship. “Thank you, sir,” he said, sounding much more sincere than he had earlier. He slid his arms into the sleeves and closed the front, huddling in it. The coat hung overlarge on his small body, like a boy wearing his dad’s clothes.
More time passed, and Matt periodically kicked the bars in frustration. He hated feeling so helpless, and being forced to wait and see what would happen only made the situation worse, as did the growing certainty that he was doomed. While his father would not pay any ransom, his grandfather would. Unfortunately, even if his father was innocent in all this, he wouldn’t tell Matt’s grandfather what was happening. They loathed each other with the heat of ten suns.
The door opened again, the Tercottan bastard who’d shocked him entering the room. Light from the hallway spilled into the room, and the man paused, looking at the cages.
Before Matt could figure out what the bastard wanted this time, another figure appeared in the doorway, shooting the Tercottan in the back. As he watched the man topple to the ground, Matt wondered, What the fuck?
The stranger turned about with his weapon at the ready, searching for any further threats. Finding none, he switched on the lights and approached the cages.
It gave Matt a closer look at him. He moved with lithe grace, his lean body easy on the eyes, as was his face. His brown hair was pulled back into a tail, which gave his handsome features a more severe appearance, but he looked to be somewhere in his twenties.
His gun lowered to his side now as he looked at the cages. “Are you all okay?”
They were being rescued? His pessimistic mind had thought this man another pirate of some kind. Relief swept through him. “Yes, just get me out of here.”
One dark eyebrow crooked up at Matt, before his gaze focused on the slaves. “Where are the keys?”
One of the slaves pointed over at the wall. “There I think, sir.”
He retrieved them, but ignored Matt, who stared at him aghast. Instead he went to the female slave first, the one who no longer had clothes. She wouldn’t even get out, trembling in the back of her cage.
The stranger crouched down, speaking to her in a gentle voice. “It’s okay. I’m here to help you. I won’t hurt you.”
She watched him with wary eyes, until he took off the jacket he wore, offering it to her. Snatching it from him, she pulled it over herself. The man smiled at her. “You come out when you’re ready.”
Matt found himself watching the way the stranger’s shirt tightened across his shoulders as he pushed himself to his feet. He went to the blond slave next, opening his cage and asking if he was all right. Their rescuer’s eyes shifted from the coat on the blond to Matt before turning back to the slave. More soft, encouraging words followed, and then he was moving on to the next slave.
“Open this fucking thing.” Matt scowled, pissed that he’d been right next to his cage and still ignored him.
A glare from the stranger. “In a minute. You’ll live til then.”
He let all the slaves out first, checking over each of them, before deigning to bring his attention back to Matt, who’d been cursing him under his breath.
The man sent him a look. “That tact thing, ever heard of it?”
“No need to let me out last,” Matt said.
The stranger grinned. “Technically, no need to let you out at all.” Considering he was reaching for the lock as he said it, Matt didn’t take it a real threat. Opening the door, he held out a hand to help Matt up.
He took it, feeling heat lance up his arm as their palms touched. His gaze flew to the man’s brown eyes, and he read the same surprise in them that he felt. Then he was on his feet, the man letting go of him, and part of him mourned the loss of contact.
Their eyes remained on each other for one long moment, and then the stranger turned away. He went back to the female, who was still cowering in her cage.
Meanwhile, the blond slave sidled closer to Matt. Eyes properly downcast, his hand fingered the edge of the coat. “Sir, did you…”
“Keep it for now.”
The slave knelt, the motion not as fluid as it should’ve been, but the pirates were no doubt to blame for that. “Thank you, sir.”
Matt stroked the blond’s hair in acknowledgment before letting his hand slide away.
Having coaxed the woman out at last, the man took out his PC and made a call. “I’ve got them. You have everything secured?”
“Yeah, we’re coming to you right now.” It was the gruff voice of an older man.
“Good,” he said, before hanging up.
“What’s your name?” Matt asked him.
“Alex Senneth.” The man didn’t even approach him, much less shake his hand. “You’re Matthias Muldane, right?”
“Yeah.” Matt frowned in confusion.
“Your grandfather will be very happy to have you back.” Alex grinned. “He decided he’d rather pay someone to rescue you than pay ransom to the pirate bastards who abducted you.”
Matt smiled. Yeah, that sounded like his grandfather.
The door opened then, revealing a middle-aged couple and a younger woman. The latter walked straight to Alex, linking her arm through his. The way they leaned into each other spoke of long time intimacy. “Everyone okay?”
Matt’s disappointment at seeing Alex with the woman was palpable. But while that feeling was understandable, the immediate jolt of jealousy took him by surprise.
“Yeah,” Alex was saying. He directed his next words at the older man. “Two of them need to be looked at. The others seem to be okay, but we should make sure.”
“Of course.” The man turned to the slaves, a kindness in his demeanor despite his brusque voice. “Gonna take you all back to our ship and take care of ya. All right?”
It was met with uneasy silence, and Matt rolled his eyes. You didn’t confuse slaves with questions; you gave them orders.
“Let’s go then,” he said. Eager to get the hell out of this room, Matt headed for the door. Rising, the blond followed after him, and he heard more footsteps as the other slaves followed the blond.
Unsure which direction to go, he waited out in the passageway. Alex came out after the slaves, and guided them to their destination.
As he followed Alex off the Tercottan ship, Matt felt a rush of relief and gratitude, the fear plaguing him since he’d awakened a prisoner finally dissipating. But even amidst the solace of reaching safety, his eyes couldn’t help lingering on Alex’s ass. The man had a fine one.
Part 2