Page 39 of Warrior's Captive
The escort said nothing.
A vicious twinge of pleasure wove through Tai’ri, and he leaned into his character, spending the next several moments insulting his absent host, criticizing the decor, food and wine and then turning his pithy comments on the stature and dress of the escort.
The room plunged into darkness. A pulse later, light burst from the ceilings, casting patterns along the walls as a sudden deep beat of music filled the air. Doors opened and out streamed dancers, several with instruments, and in various states of nudity. Males, females, Tai’ri counted at least four different species including his own.
A few broke off to attend each patron, but Tai’ri waved his away, annoyance across his face, and stared broodingly into his wineglass.
So the broker wanted to ply them with wine, disorient their senses with mood music likely embedded with subliminals, and rouse their ardor with the old trick of using sex workers. By the time the auction began, the broker was hoping they’d all be slightly more drunk, slightly more disoriented, and all itching for release with something to tease jaded senses.
The entire display piqued his curiosity. Most of these affairs were quiet, discreet, lights dim and sober. He began to revise what he knew about this particular broker.
He wanted to talk to Evvek, but there would be listening devices everywhere. They couldn’t drop character for one moment.
The central dais lit up, and the dancers began to gyrate around it as it opened, the platform revealing their host.
“Welcome,” he cried, throwing his arms wide. “Tonight, I am honored to bring before the elite of Naidekai City the highest caliber of alien delicacies for your amusement. After the general viewing you will all be escorted to private rooms for the auction. Let the viewing begin, and unlike other hosts—I encourage you to touch the merchandise.”
He smiled beatifically, then stepped off the dais.
“Damn,” Evvek muttered as a procession of aliens began to appear on the dais.
Tai’ri studied each, capturing their images to transmit to Vykhan. There was no room for anger, for the sickness in his gut as males and females, at least two humans big with child, stood in front of the audience. Some stood tall, hips cocked. Others grim, and yet others . . .
Some of them might be here of their own accord. The others were not.
The dancers melted away, music softening into a background hum and the lights adjusted. The escort appeared at Tai’ri’s elbow and he stood with a loud sigh.
“Finally. Next time I’ll be certain to dispense with the preliminaries. I can get far better opera in the Theater district if that’s what I wanted.”
He and Evvek traded more insults as they walked down another hall, the other patrons leaving in different directions.
They entered a square room with three-way windows and two rows of deep seats. Beyond the windows was another dais under a spotlight, and darkened glass belonging to the other private rooms surrounding it.
Tai’ri sat, and ordered more wine, using his most belittling tone.
Watching the stony faces of their escorts ice over as they stared at a far wall brought him sweet, sweet satisfaction.
Satisfaction turned to ashes when moments later a side door opened, and out walked a slender male of medium height. Their host. “So honored you have graced us with your presence,” the broker said in a surprisingly deep, smooth tone.
Tai’ri stared at the Aeddannar. Green skin, wispy white hair and over large, glittering eyes. Purple lacquered nails shimmered, matching the multitude of chains draping his neck and forehead.
“A lack of punctuality is a sign of a deteriorated mind,” Tai’ri said, every emotion in his body solidifying into icy resolve.
The broker approached with a light step, coming a length too close for Tai’ri’s liking and lifted his palms toward Tai’ri in a conciliatory gesture. “My apologies. We were finalizing the last touches on our offerings for the evening. I do expect you will be pleased.”
Tai’ri sighed heavily. “I hope so. I’ll be disappointed if you’ve wasted my time.” He paused. “I would like to know with whom I’d dealing.”
“You may call me Zhiannur.”
The reply was so smooth Tai’ri knew it was a false name. But still, it was another piece of information.
Tai’ri inclined his head, dismissing the male. Unblinking eyes flickered, then the broker lowered his feathery lashes and spread his arms with a smile and a bow, backing out of the room.
Moments later a seven-foot-tall Hyunthu female emerged onto the dais, green skinned and double jointed, lidless swirling eyes sweeping across the darkened windows as if she could see through each one. Delicately, she picked up a gavel.
A panel slid out of the wall and lit up, preparing for Tai’ri’s bids.
“Let us begin,” she said in a crisp, cool voice. “Our first offering for the evening, a Drathokian male from the Broma system . . .”
