Kidnapped By Her Husbands (Wings of Artemis Book 1) (2 page)

“Sit,” she repeated, and I did as she told me. Following orders seemed easier than not, at least for the moment.

Wanda wasn’t done. “Someone else will meet you here when you’re done. I have things to do, and the gods know I can’t get off this planet fast enough.” She shook her head. “I can almost feel the stink getting on me the longer I stay here. I want you to remember, after you watch this, how lucky you are. I want you to know that in the past, before we got more civilized, before our Nobles made us reevaluate the barbaric ways of our Post-Nuclear War age, that whores like you would have been strung up until they were publicly stoned and eventually killed. This is your second chance, Melissa. Be a good girl, and don’t make us regret saving you.”

Only one word out of what she said stuck with me.
Whore?
“Is that what I am?” I hadn’t known my own name when I woke, but I remembered what that slur meant. Did I take money for sex? My throat went dry. What had happened in my life? I rubbed my stomach and had a moment of comfort from the soothing action. Whose baby lived inside me? How low had I sunk?

With Wanda’s exit, the lights dimmed and, with nothing to see other than the screen, I settled in for whatever video she wanted me to watch. I had no doubt things could and would get worse. The thought jarred me.

Am I a pessimist?

A man crossed onto the screen. He stared at me, or at least his recorded image did. He looked old, balding, and his nose was red.

“My name is Rudolph Montgomery. You are in Master’s Rehabilitation.” That much I’d already been told. “Your mind has been wiped. In a few weeks’ time, you will thank me for doing so.”

Doubt it.
Since he wasn’t finished with his speech, I didn’t dwell on my lack of imaginary gratitude for very long.

“You were brought here because you committed a crime. As we live in a civilized society, thanks to the leadership of our Noble class, we no longer execute or permanently imprison women who break the law.”

Rudolph’s image faded and in its place appeared a building—a tall, black-bricked structure filled the whole screen. “One century ago, a plague ravaged our society. It was a different universe then.” Although his face was no longer on the screen, I still heard Rudolph’s rough voice as he narrated. “Our society barely survived a nuclear war. Fleeing a ravaged Earth, our people had lost most of our females. We wouldn’t get them back. Only one in two thousand babies born is a girl. Sometimes, we suspect that statistic is lower, although no one really wants to know. The Nobles rose and, even today, are a beacon of light in our world. We taught everyone how to treasure the women we have, how to live so that we might rise again.”

A picture floated on the screen. Six men, six women and a bunch of children of various ages stared at me. All the kids were male except for one adolescent female. I did a quick headcount—sixty total people were pictured, including Rudolph, looking slightly less stout than he did in his initial video. Wanda was there, too, smiling brightly like she’d won some kind of award. But it wasn’t the two of them who held my attention. It was one of the grown up, but clearly second generation, men who I couldn’t look away from. Dark-haired and blue-eyed, he looked tall. His gaze could only be called…hostile. I blinked. What could have made him so mad when they’d been taking a picture?

“The Nobles live and rule on Ochoa. We are a beacon of light to everyone.”

Seemed kind of presumptuous for this guy to call himself a beacon of light. But what did I know? I barely knew my own name. Maybe people did this all the time.

“All would be well in the universe, if not for the few, but deadly, rebels attacking our peace. They carry off our supplies, abuse our women, and they turn them into whores—” That word made me shudder.

“But this your chance. You should consider yourself lucky because you were caught. You were saved. You were given a second chance to serve humanity and have a good life. Study hard, be a good girl, and we will find you a husband. When these years are behind us, and the rebels have all been executed as they should be, you will be so glad you’ve been given this chance.”

The lights raised slowly. They were offering me an opportunity. I’d been a whore; the rebels had made me thus. What was the life in my stomach if not proof of my bad decisions? I didn’t have a husband, and I was pregnant. I rubbed at my eyes. It was a lot to absorb.

With a bump, the door to the room opened and a woman stood waiting. The newcomer was tall, slender, and had skin the color of caramel. She stepped forward with a small smile on her face. “It’s terrible, the video. I cried for a week. How could I have been the type of person who would side with rebels and let them turn me into a prostitute?”

I didn’t care for her word any more than the
w
one. All of it made my stomach turn. How many men had I slept with?

“But the good news is they aren’t kidding.” She put her hand on her chest, directly over her heart. “My name is Farrah. You’re Melissa. We can do this together. And, in time, there will be forgiveness. We’ll have a future.”

I stood. “I’m…”

She smiled before she embraced me. I stiffened in her grasp. What was she doing? Why had she decided to…hug me? “You’re overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling sick. I can’t imagine doing it with the addition of the baby you’re growing. We’re going to get through this. I’ll be your guide. I’ve been assigned to you, as my friend Kate was to me some time ago. She’s moved on now. And some day you’ll help the next person. We’re sisters. Starting over. Being given a gift.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever had a sister.” I finally let myself hug her in return. The feeling seemed foreign. My muscles wanted to revolt from the movement, but I did it, because I needed a friend.

“You probably didn’t, sweetie. There are so few women around. If you came from a family with more than one female, they’d have raised you on Ochoa like some kind of miracle, and you’d never have wound up here.”

I pulled away to look at her. “This is something I’ll learn?”

“I’m going to teach it to you, I promise.” She nodded, her smile brightening. “For now, you must be hungry.”

I wasn’t, but I didn’t want to argue. “Sure.”

“Great. Come with me. The first day of the rest of your life starts as soon as we walk out that door.”

I needed a future. My past was gone. And I’d been a…I couldn’t even think the word for it. If this really proved to be a second chance for both my baby and me, then I needed to jump in with both feet. What other choice did I have?

* * * *

I threw myself into my studies. With Farrah as a tutor, I became a prized student. I could recite, to the letter and verse, the laws regarding and models of behaviors expected of women. Whatever mistakes I’d made before, I wouldn’t make them again. I rubbed my belly often because it brought me comfort. Three months had made a huge difference in the size of my swelling stomach. Also, in how much I felt the baby. He or she—although it seemed more likely a he because there were so few females born—was very active.

I needed to make sure he had a blessed life. No one would ever have to know his mama had at one time been a whore. We’d both start over with the husband Master’s would grant me.

“I’m looking at this passage from Ochoa, Volume Three.” I turned to Farrah, holding up the book. I wanted her opinion. It was clear that a woman’s duty to her husband came first and to see to his happiness a close second, but where did children fall into the equation? If I worried about anything, it was that my future protector wouldn’t care for my unborn child, particularly since I’d never be able to tell him where my son came from. I hoped Master’s could find me someone kind to take on the job as father of my son. Even if my baby had a less than perfect pedigree.

What if he came from one of the bad, outlier planets?

Farrah blinked rapidly before she looked at me. “Sorry, I have a headache.”

Those had been happening more and more frequently to her. The doctors who checked us periodically didn’t seem concerned, and life went on in between her headaches as per usual. She placed her hand on mine.

“Don’t worry. The people who find us our husbands are good at knowing who to place us with. I’m sure yours will be accepting of the bundle you bring with you.” She smiled, her eyes lighting. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

Her husband was coming for her. We didn’t have very many details but, during one of her visits, Wanda told us he worked fairly high in the spiritual guild, which meant Farrah would get to continue to help people long after she left us. I would miss her tremendously. At night, when I lay in my bed alone in the room, staring at the ceiling and hearing the other women call out as their minds settled to their new erased status, the thought of staying in Master’s without her ached in my very soul. Her future gleamed bright, and despite my sadness, it filled me with joy to think of her being where she was always meant to be.

“I’m so happy for you.”

We were never supposed to lie, so I was relieved I could mean what I said. As much as I hated the thought of her leaving, her happiness in knowing she would at last became what she should have always been brought me nothing but joy.

“Still not sleeping?” She touched a finger under my eye, tracing the ever-present dark circles there.

I shook my head. How could I explain that I hated being alone at night? When I’d first awakened I’d been so out of it I’d hardly noticed but that had quickly changed. Whatever I’d been doing before to share a bed, I hoped it hadn’t travelled with me as some kind of need since my mind altering. I didn’t plan to share my space with anyone but my husband.

A loud boom sounded, and I fell over, grabbing onto my ears as I went down. The explosion jarred me and shattered my balance. Farrah didn’t fare much better. She lay next to me on the floor as we both groaned. I hated the rebels. How could I have ever been anywhere near them?

Their bombs couldn’t penetrate our walls, yet every time they dropped them, the residents of our rehabilitation center suffered from extreme ear pain. Something about the way sound moved over the materials that comprised the building meant we suffered from reverberations louder than the ones made by the actual explosions. The first time I’d experienced it, I’d thought for sure we were all dead. Now, they were mostly an annoyance.

Farrah groaned, and I suspected she’d hurt for a while. The bombs exploding happened more and more, once a day at least.

“Are you okay?” a muffled voice asked from above me. My ears pounded, making it hard for me to hear.

I looked up and stopped breathing for a second. The guard staring at me was…beautiful. I forced myself to look away. I wasn’t supposed to look at men who weren’t my husband. And one thing I knew for sure, none of the guards who worked at Master’s were in consideration for being our husbands. They weren’t high enough yet in the monarchy. Some day they might be, but not yet.

“Are you okay?” he repeated. The dark-haired, dark-eyed man had high cheekbones and thick eyebrows, which made him look even more intense in his black uniform.

My body heated before I spoke. “Yes.”

Lust and lies
. I was clearly not ready to be anyone’s wife. Why couldn’t I pull myself together?

Chapter 2

A Prince and a Kidnapper

THE
mystery guard extended his hand in my direction. The seconds ticking past didn’t erase the illusion, so maybe I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. He still stood in front of me with his hand out as if waiting for me to do something. Did he want to help me? The guards didn’t touch us. It was one of the rules, but maybe they made an exception when it came to safety? I’d fallen, after all.

His hand was big with long fingers. I stared at the tips of them, focusing on his nails. They were clean, short, and some were painted blue. For some reason, the bright color fascinated me. I could hardly look away. Everything was black or white in Master’s. We wore white robes over black, shapeless pajamas. Our feet were bare, our hair kept pulled away from our cheeks and neck, and our faces free of any cosmetics, although I’d be expected to wear them once I became wed—I’d been instructed on how to do so. Only our husbands would ever see us painted, and even then it would only happen if our spouses wished to see it, otherwise we stayed cosmetic free. If our husbands wanted us seen in public with makeup, we would be; he had final say in all matters.

I took his hand, the reason for my sudden disregard in protocol simple enough. I wanted to be able to rub the pads of my fingers over his nail polish. What did blue feel like? My white gown felt rough, and the black pajamas itched. What would blue do to my senses? Would it feel different?

He helped me stand. My belly often got in the way, but I remained relatively agile. After I was steady, the guard still didn’t release my hand. He squeezed it between his fingers and I gasped.
Touch…
We weren’t supposed to. My mouth went dry.

“Are you okay?” His voice sounded low and, after a second, his gaze travelled my body as though he searched for injury, pausing over my belly before finally meeting my eyes again. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” I dropped my hand and shoved it to my side. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked over my shoulder before reaching to help Farrah stand as well. A surge of anger filled me when he touched her hand the way he had mine. I struck down the emotion. Why would it make me upset?

He’d helped me, now he attended to her, all perfectly appropriate. I guess I’d liked the idea he’d focused on helping me.
Oh, by the heavens.
I sank onto the chair. I remained lustful, dishonest, jealous, and angry. They couldn’t put my name out to find me a husband. I was nowhere near ready.

The guard sat next to me, which jarred me from my thoughts. He kept a distance between us, so it wasn’t like we touched in any way or as though he did anything inappropriate, technically. His sitting next to me simply wasn’t done. Farrah looked away, quickly sitting down and reading her books. If she had a comment about his behavior, she’d save it for later. Although, a lady minded her own business. She’d likely say nothing at all.