Barbarian's Redemption.

Ruby Dixon.

For seasons, I have waited for her - my perfect mate.

In a tribe full of happy couples, I am alone. But I am not content to remain this way. There are no eligible unmated females left, so I will do whatever it takes to bring females back to our tribe...even if it means doing something wrong. Even if it means I must purchase my mate on the intergalactic black market. I will do anything to possess her, to claim her as my own.

But will my ruthless move turn my female against me before we ever meet? Can she ever forgive a male that bought her freedom?.

1.

ELLY.

"Look alive, ladies," Gail says softly in the corner of her cell. "We've got company."

The other human slaves stand in their tiny cells, moving to the front bars to see. I know better. I've been a slave for a long time now, and buyers are never something to look forward to. Granted, being kept on a slave s.h.i.+p is just as bad, but at least it's a familiar sort of 'bad.' I can deal with familiar bad. It's the bad I don't know that terrifies me. But I've learned a lot in my ten years of being a slave. I don't get up. I push my filthy, matted hair forward to cover my face, just enough so I can still see out but they can't see my face. I hunch my shoulders and roll them slightly forward so my b.r.e.a.s.t.s look smaller and my collarbones more prominent.

I want to look as awful as possible so no one buys me. Especially so no one buys me as a playmate.

"What do you see, Gail?" The tall blonde holds on to her bars and presses her face between them. "Where?"

"At the far end of the hall," Gail murmurs, voice low and calm. Gail's our unofficial watchdog, since her cell's near the front of the long hall and she can see out one of the small windows into the next room. Gail's been here almost as long as I have, and she's the closest thing I have to a friend-or at least, she would be if I ever talked to anyone. "They're speaking with Big Cheese," Gail tells us.

A few cells down, the girl with the pink-dyed hair sobs. She's new and hasn't yet learned to hide her emotions. "A-are we going to get sold?"

"Maybe," Gail says. She puts her hands on the bars of her small cell and stands on her tiptoes, trying to peer out. "Y'all be quiet so I can listen."

The cages of humans go silent. We all want to know what Gail's hearing, even me.

Gail tilts her head, listening. She learned the alien language from her last master, she told me once when I realized she could understand them. He trained her so she would know what he asked for. Judging from her expression, he didn't ask for anything good. Not surprising. At this point, I'm used to terrible treatment. As far as owners go, these slavers aren't so bad. We get fed at least once a day, sometimes twice when they're feeling generous. I can stand up in my cage, though the tall blonde in the cage next to me can't. And so far no one's tried to have s.e.x with me. All in all, I've had worse.

Which is why I'm uneasy that there are buyers here. This place isn't great, but there's worse out there. I know the others want to get away...but they're still so new. They don't know how bad it can be out there. I've had three owners in ten years. I know just how bad it can be.

"They're here to buy humans," Gail says after a moment. Her small hands are tight on her bars, and she tries to climb a little higher. "Saying something else, too, but I can't make it out. They don't speak any languages I know."

"What do they look like?" someone farther down the line asks. Might be Kate. "Do they look nice?"

"They're blue," Gail says. "And really, really tall. I see horns, too."

"Horns? Like devils?" the blonde next to me asks.

Gail steps back and waves a hand, indicating we should all be quiet. "They're coming!"

Immediately, everyone scurries to the backs of their cages. The blonde tries to cover her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with her tight curly hair, but it's not long enough. I watch as Gail folds her tiny body close, tucking her legs under her and crossing her arms over her chest. She's probably twice my age, but she's supple and lithe, her dark skin gleaming in the low light of the cellblock. Everyone's quiet, waiting.

There's a hiss of air, and then the door opens.

The first thing I notice is that they're not wearing masks when they enter, or the nose-clips that filter toxins out of the atmosphere. My first master made me wear one of them because the atmosphere he preferred was poisonous to humans. And a lot of the 'shoppers' that come through to gawk at humans wear masks over their breathing orifices for the same reason. They also usually don't buy, which means that these particular shoppers might be more than just browsing.

That worries me.

I watch them from under the curtain of my filthy hair. Gail's right; they're extremely tall, and it doesn't just seem that way because Gail's so tiny. They're taller than humans by at least a foot, and the horns make them seem even more imposing. Their bodies are big and muscular, their skin a denim shade of blue. They're strong. I'm starting to get scared. I hunch my shoulders a little more, doing my best to seem helpless. I'm a pro at being avoided. Heck, I've managed to be here for almost a year, so I'm hoping one of the other girls looks a bit more appealing than me. It's awful to think that way, but I don't have a choice.

There are two men eyeing the rows of cages, walking behind the slavemaster. The slavemaster is all smooth rolling words in his native tongue, gesturing at the line-up of the human cages. He must smell a sale, because he's especially oily today, all big hand motions and b.u.t.t-kissing that's obvious even without knowing his language. The big blue men don't look especially thrilled at the sight of us. One of them seems to be older than the other, face lined and dark hair shot with gray, like Gail's. He peers in on my cage and then flinches backward at the sight of me, saying something. Probably worried about how unhealthy I look. The slavemaster murmurs something apologetic, and I can guess what he's saying. Turning 'she's mean' into 'she's got a lot of fire' or 'she needs taming' or something along those lines. These guys can spin anything. I can ask Gail later what they said, if she's still here. If I'm still here.

The younger one says something to the other and they seem to argue. He gestures, holding up fingers. Five. Then he points at our cages and makes another sweeping gesture. Oh no. Are they here to buy all five of us? There are five humans locked up, and I've never seen anyone leave with more than one girl. One of my old masters told me we were expensive pets, and I guess we are. That's why the slavemaster looks overjoyed at the conversation.

He really, really does want to buy all of us.

I feel sick to my stomach at the thought. I'm safe here. I'm not safe if I leave with these two blue aliens. These men look brutal, strong enough to snap Gail in half, or me, or even the big strapping blonde to the other side of my cage. If they're mean, it's going to be really bad for us. I have no misconceptions of what they expect when they purchase slaves, hence my protective layer of filth.

Normally, I skate through a purchasing round by the fact that I'm scrawny, underfed and filthy. No one gives me a second look when there's a plumper, more attractive female nearby. It's my defense mechanism. But if they buy all of us...it means they don't care how dirty or thin I am. They just need a lot of humans and they don't care what we look like.

The thought is terrifying. I've heard stories of some alien races that like to throw 'dining' parties and eat people. Is that what we're all being bought for? A feast?

Living in a cage isn't much of a life, but I don't want to die, either.

"It sounds like they want to take all of us with them," Gail whispers from her spot in her cage. "They're just haggling over the price. They want to pay less for you, Elly. Says you're not healthy."

I feel a tiny surge of hope at that. If I look too sick, maybe they can leave me behind.

The men continue to argue, and the older one keeps glancing over into my cell. The younger one argues and pulls out a bag, counting out the small squares that I know pa.s.s for intergalactic currency of some kind.

"The older one wants to leave you, but the younger one says their agreement was five. I don't know why they need five, they just keep saying that over and over again." Gail frowns to herself. "Says they promised something called a 'bek.' Do you know what alien race that is?" She looks over at me, her eyes dark, worry on her face.

I shake my head slowly, watching as the men count out money.

"Well, sounds like we're gonna find out."

The men pause, and the older one gestures at Gail and says something.

"Oh, h.e.l.l no, you did not just call me old," she mutters under her breath. "He's trying to get a d.a.m.n discount for you and me. Cheap-a.s.s b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Poor Gail. She sounds offended. I'm not. I want them to not be able to agree on a price. I want them to leave me behind.

The men continue talking for a moment more, and then the younger one makes an angry sound and hands over his entire bag of credits to the slavemaster, who quickly pockets it. The older one just shakes his head, his mouth flattening into a firm line, and spits out a few words. I catch a glimpse of fangs. Oh Jesus, fangs too? I fight the rising panic that I'm feeling, because this can't be happening. I can't be sold to someone this big and scary. I can't.

The slavemaster utters a few pleased words, and then heads over to the far end of the hall of cages, unlocking Gail's first. He talks all the while, pulling a few force-collars off the wall and offering them to the elder of the two buyers. The one says something to Gail, and she taps the translator in her ear.

"I can hear just fine, and I heard what you said. All these other girls don't speak your language, though."

He puts a finger to his ear and then says something to the younger male. A moment later, he speaks again. "Can you understand me?" His English is thick and heavily accented but understandable.

I hear someone else in the cages gasp.

Gail nods slowly. "Yes. Thank you."

"The collars will not be necessary, will they? I a.s.sume you are as civilized as the rest of your people?"

"If you mean will we run away, I can't speak for the others, but I won't. Where are you taking us?" She crosses her arms under her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s, standing tall and proud despite her diminutive height.

"Can you take us home?" Kate cries out, hope in her voice. The other girls murmur, and I feel a stab of excitement in my belly.

The older one shakes his head. "Your planet is off limits. Even purchasing you is taboo. I risk enough buying you from this flesh peddler." He glances over at the slavemaster, who's beaming and giving him approving looks. "I am purchasing you for a friend."

It sounds so reasonable, but I grow cold. My very first master, the one that kept me in his private zoo, gave me to his 'friend.' Just because he says he doesn't want us for himself doesn't mean we're not in danger.

We're still slaves. We're still not free.

"Come," the older one says. "We're wasting fuel with every moment we idle here. I want to get you deposited and then I can be done with this business."

The younger one nods, a nervous look on his face. "I'd like to get out of here before anyone records that our s.h.i.+p is here. I don't like the thought of spending the rest of my life in a Ktharian jail."

The elder one grunts. "Let us go, then." He nods at the slavemaster, and Gail's cell is opened. She steps out calmly, waiting, and looks over at me.

It's gonna be okay, she mouths and gives me a small thumbs-up. So confident. She doesn't know, though. None of them do. We don't have any idea of what's coming ahead. It could be an utter nightmare.

I'm not going down without a fight, though. So when they open my cage, I flinch back, huddling in the corner. If I thought snarling would do any good, I'd try that, too. The slavemaster sighs and says something to the others in his strange language.

"Get out here already," the younger one says, impatience stamped on his face. "I know you can understand me. Come on. We don't have a lot of time."

Does he think I'm going to go with him willingly? After what I've seen and lived through? He's just my newest captor. I'm never going to go easily, because it doesn't matter. You can be the most willing slave in the world and someone will always want to hurt you just because you're property. So I remain huddled against the wall and ignore him, keeping my face angled down so my hair can s.h.i.+eld the fear on my face. I hate letting them see I'm afraid.

The slavemaster offers a collar, but the older one declines. Now they're all frowning at me. Like I'm the problem.

I hug my arms tight to my chest, keeping against the wall. And when the big one comes in, my fear and instincts take over. He reaches for me with one big hand...

So I bite it.

He jerks away, and as he does, it knocks me backward. My head hits the wall, and I'm dazed. Ears ringing, I gaze blearily up at them as the slavemaster steps in and gives me a whack with the shock-stick. Electricity shoots through my veins, and I can't breathe, every muscle in my body screaming to a halt. I s.h.i.+ver, and my mouth falls slack as I collapse to the floor. I can feel the drool sliding down my cheek, but I can't close my mouth. I can't do anything.

As if this is no big deal, the slavemaster steps next to my fallen body and calmly snaps the collar around my neck, then pats my cheek. Good dog.

I hate him. So much.

"Oh, Elly. Be careful," Gail says in a soft voice. "Don't get started on the wrong foot, honey." Then, louder, she says, "Elly's had some bad owners in the past. She doesn't trust much."

"She bit me," the older one says, voice stiff with anger. He cradles his enormous hand like I did real damage. Please.

I feel a little trickle of fear at that. Gail's probably right. I need to calm down. To go quietly. But every bone in my body won't let me give in. I can't do this. I can't just go with them like I'm happy to be property.

To be a good dog. f.u.c.k that.

So when the slavemaster barks the word that I know means 'get up,' I test my muscles. They're working again, and I crawl slowly to my feet. They're watching me, the slavemaster with a benevolent but annoyed expression on his face that fills me with helpless anger. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help myself-I leap forward and bite him. Just because I'm never going to be his good dog.

The blast of the shock collar knocks me unconscious.

When I wake up again a short time later, I'm in a strange, well-lit place. I immediately think of the old zoo, with its constant overhead lighting and the calls of exotic birds a few cages away. I blink and look around, surprised to see a horned blue female waving a scanner over me.

"If you try to bite me, I'm going to put you back under and surgically remove all your teeth," she says in a dry voice. Her hands are wrinkled, her face lined, and she doesn't look friendly. "Got it?"

I pull my legs up tight against my body and huddle on the table I'm sitting on. I eye the room, looking for the familiar, but I'm here alone. The other humans aren't anywhere to be found, and I don't recognize this place.

The blue woman finishes running a scan on me. "You're dehydrated and malnourished. I'm going to give you a shot that will replenish some of the missing electrolytes and provide some vitamins, but you need to make sure you're eating enough."

I just stare at her, hugging my knees closer.

"Right. They said you weren't a talker. This makes my job so fun, doesn't it?" She shakes her head and stares down at an electronic pad, tapping out commands. "You have intestinal parasites, too. Can I give you something to kill those, or do you want to keep them?"

Keep them? Who on earth would keep a parasite? I stare at her.

She shrugs. "I've heard of weirder. Okay, well, I'm going to give you a pill that will kill them. You can choose to take it or not." She moves to another wall panel and taps a few b.u.t.tons. A couple of pills slide into a small metal cup, plinking as they do. "I would also recommend a good scrub and a de-lousing since you're pretty keffing filthy, but that's just me." The woman turns and holds the cup out to me, waiting.

I want to knock it out of her hand, but...I also don't want intestinal worms. I hesitate and then grab the pills, shoving them into my mouth and swallowing quickly.

"All right. That wasn't so hard." She gives me a brisk look and puts her pad away. She taps her wrist and speaks into it, changing languages. I can't make out what she's saying, but a moment later, the door to the bare, strange room I'm in opens up, and it's the younger blue guy.

He waves at me. "Follow, please."

I glance between him and the female. I'm not sure I want to go with him. The female is taller than I am, and leaner, but I have more of a chance to take her down than him. The male's easily twice my size.

"I wouldn't try it," the woman says. "I didn't take the shock collar off you." Her smile is thin and unamused. "I'm not stupid."

I reach up and sure enough, the awful collar is still around my neck. I feel another burst of helpless anger. I'd growl at them if I thought it'd do any good. With this thing on, though, they can disable me with the touch of a b.u.t.ton. I hate them. I hate it.

I hate these blue people that pretend to be nice but it doesn't reach their eyes. It's like they're going through the motions of being polite but there's no real caring there.

The male gestures at the door. "Come on. I'm not going to ask you again."

I slide off the table and get to my feet, and I notice I'm wearing a thin paper gown of some kind, like in a doctor's office. It's the first piece of clothing I've had in almost a year, and it feels weird against my skin. Makes me feel itchy, too, and I realize just how dirty I am.

Doesn't matter, though. I'm staying dirty for now. Dirty's safe. No one wants to touch dirty.

The big horned male makes another impatient gesture at the door, and I hastily move forward, my steps wobbling. I feel a little lightheaded, and my head throbs. I step into a shadowy, unfriendly looking hallway that seems made entirely of metal. It reminds me of something from a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p movie. My captor grabs a small bundle from a shelf and then gestures that I should follow him.

I do, because I don't know if I have any other options. Not with the shock collar on. I don't mind the occasional slap with the shock-stick because they're mild, and a lot of the time, it's worth it. Bite the slavemaster? Totally worth the shock. Slap food out of an a.s.shole guard's hand? Totally worth the shock. But the shock collar isn't mild. I've seen a big lizard-man slave have his brains melted and dribble out his nose after being zapped with the shock collar too many times. After that, I learned to fear the collar.

Fear's a powerful motivator for a slave.