Page 66 of Seven Oars
Xorris reentered the Habitat with a triumphant bellow and a large bottle in hand. Smashing the top clean off, he grabbed Phex’s chin and upended the bottle over his face, sending down broken glass and drops of red liquid.
Phex went berserk.
“Hold him, you useless fucks!”
The pirates piled on, laughing, cursing, and hooting. It was just another game to them, one big grotesque spectacle designed to help them while away their useless and boring existence.
In their tangle, they shifted closer to Rosamma. She smelled their body odor and the sweet fragrance of the bottle’s contents.Charm spice.
Phex bucked hard, almost dislodging four aliens hanging on to him, and Rosamma’s heart nearly stopped.
His crotch was no longer flat.
Propped over Sassa, his arms bulging with dark veins, he shook his head as if to clear it, just as his lower body made a seeking motion toward the woman under him.
The pirates hollered.
Ugly.Ugly.
Rosamma could see tears on Sassa’s finely grained skin. So close…
She unclasped her hands and moved one toward Phex. Just an inch.
The pirates were paying her no attention.
She moved her hand closer, carefully, so that her bracelets didn’t jingle.
Her throat went dry. Her heart was beating way too fast. She held herself perfectly still except for her hand that crept forward.
When her fingers found the rock-hard flex of Phex’s veiny wrist, she let her energy slip into him.
He jerked and stilled. His breath sawed in and out of his slitted nostrils. He was weakened by the beatings and disoriented by the drug, but as she slowly fed him her energy, Rosamma could feel his control returning.
She ramped up the flow.
She didn’t have much energy, but all of it was his.
Oh, Ren, please forgive me.
All hope died inside her. She was never leaving this space station alive. It had never been an option. She was sorry it came to this end. She was so sorry…
She felt watched again and wanted to dismiss the sensation, but a movement in the distance caught her attention: a pair of boots hitting the mesh floor.
No.
She focused on maintaining contact with Phex and keeping the energy flow steady. He needed her. Sassa needed her.
Faster, faster…
The boots started walking toward her. Their progress was unhurried, and the steps light. Yet each one landed like a death toll.
She mashed her fingers into Phex’s flesh, trying to push the energy harder out of herself. She wanted it to become a torrent, a downpour.
The boots stopped beside her, slate gray and scuffed. Those tough, sturdy boots, large like the alien pirate who wore them, became Rosamma’s sole focus.
Yes, she was being watched.
The weight of his attention went all the way to her bones, a heavy burden. Without breaking contact with Phex’s wrist, she slowly raised her eyes from Fincros’boots to his scarred face.
