Sheikh's Purchased Princess (2 page)

“I don't know where—”

“Be quiet now,” the woman said, her voice soft, and she set down the box and came to sit on the hard floor next to Emily. Emily's mouth snapped shut, and she watched the woman warily. The woman nodded in approval at Emily's quick obedience.

“Good,” the woman said. “You might last until we get to Mirago after all.”

“Can I ask…?”

“You may not,” the woman answered grimly. “Questions…knowing too much, this is the way that you will end up dead and buried in the shifting sands. It has happened to others just like you.”

Emily’s heart beat faster. What the hell had happened to her?

“I am Oma,” the woman continued. “It is my job to make sure that you are presentable, but believe me when I say I want the best for you. I want you to survive, and if you do exactly what I say, you can. Do you understand?”

Something about this woman told Emily to trust her. Indeed, tied up and locked in a concrete room, she had little choice. She nodded.

“You are silent; that is good. Silence is obedience, and that is what the men here like.”

Men?

“Whatever life you had before, you must forget it. It is an old woman's saying in my country, ‘a woman's past is pain, and her future is trouble. It is only here and now that we may have some joy.’ There will perhaps be some joy for you, but first…first there is this.”

“What happened to me?” Emily asked, her voice as soft as she could make it. She kept her head tilted so that the camera could not see her move her lips, and Oma nodded approvingly.

“You have been taken,” she said bitterly. “You have been kidnapped for your good looks and your youth, and you will be sold to the highest bidder when we come to Mirago in a few days.”

“Sold?” Her voice became no more than a breath, and she could feel a panic clawing at her throat. This wasn't real. It couldn't possibly be real. This was something that happened in the movies—it couldn't happen to someone like her.

“Yes,” Oma said. “Sold. You are quite the prize for the Razorback, and he will collect a great deal of money for you. Do not think that will protect you, however. If you are disobedient, if you do something to embarrass him or to hurt your value…you will disappear like so many girls before you.”

“So I will be a slave, or I will be dead,” Emily said, still incredulous.

“Think of it instead as being alive or being dead,” Oma replied. “Where there is life, there is hope, after all. Right now, girl, I want you to choose. Life or death?”

“Life,” Emily said, some strength coming back to her voice. She had to survive, no matter what. She had been hungry and in danger before. She could survive this.

Oma smiled, and it transformed her into a beauty. Suddenly Emily wondered who this woman was, why she was here. Before she could ask, however, Oma reached over and cut her bonds. Her hands tingled as the blood rushed to them, but she was so grateful to have her hands free that she could have cried.

“Good. Remember that survival is not always easy. You are not allowed what free people are allowed. You have no dignity. Nothing belongs to you, not even your body. Right now, you need to take off your clothes.”

Emily had thought that she was prepared for anything, but her brain short-circuited at Oma's calm words.

“What—?”

Oma's hand lashed out and caught her a stinging slap on her cheek. She bit off a yelp and turned to the older woman, shocked by the betrayal.

“The first lesson is to follow orders without question,” Oma responded. “That slap is the gentlest treatment you will ever receive. If you had defied your master in that way, he might have had you dragged out and beaten with a whip until your blood ran down to the sands. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Emily whispered. The enormity of her situation finally struck her. She clamped her mouth shut against her rising screams.

“Then take off your clothes.”

Biting her lip hard enough that she was surprised it did not draw blood, Emily stood slowly. Oma watched her with eyes that were dark and sad, but she gave no support. She would have to do this herself.

Slowly she stripped off her clothes, trying to keep her mind away from the terrible reality of what she was doing.

It's just like changing at the gym,
she told herself.
It's just like a bunch of people getting ready for the showers after a game or a swim or some exercise.

That helped a little. Her clothes were limp and filthy, but when she finally shed them, she had never felt more bare. She started to ask Oma what she should do next, but the other woman stood as well.

“Turn towards the camera,” she said. “Drop your hands.”

With a soft cry and her eyes tightly shut, Emily did as Oma said. Suddenly she could feel a thousand eyes on her, running over her like insects. It seemed like an eternity before Oma spoke again.

“Good. Lie on your back.”

Emily wondered if she was in shock. It was as if the past few minutes had been too much, and now she was only a doll that moved when she was told. Everything felt distant, even when Oma spread her legs, her touch gentle but unyielding.

“Are you a virgin?”

Heat flushed her body. “Yes.”

When Oma’s touch grew more invasive, Emily only moaned and turned her face away.

“I see no evidence to disprove that. That is a very good thing for you. You can sit up now.”

“Why is it good?” asked Emily dully, curling in on herself.

“Because that means that you will fetch a much higher price,” Oma replied, her voice brutally practical. “That means that on our travels to Mirago, you will be kept safe.”

This was her life now, Emily realized. She was nothing more than her worth to slavers. She was nothing more than a piece of meat to be sold.

“What happens now?” Emily asked as Oma opened the box.

“Now you will clean yourself and put on these clothes. You have gone through the worst of it for a little while. We have a few days before we leave for Mirago, and in that time, I will teach you what you need to know.”

The box held a small basin and a jug of water for her to bathe with and a pile of fabric that looked more like lacy scarves than clothes. Before she reached for them, Emily looked up at the other woman.

“Have you helped many girls like this?”

Oma nodded, and there was a world of pain in her eyes.

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

It took Oma a long time to reply.

“Because I wish someone had done the same for me,” Oma said quietly, and Emily knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that escape was hopeless, at least for now.

“All right,” she said softly. “All right.”

Hesitantly, she reached a hand to touch Oma's, and Oma clasped it lightly before letting go.

“Come. Let us get you bathed. There are many important things for you to learn.”

Chapter Three

Adnan planned his arrival in Mirago carefully. The border town was sprawling, a den of sin and iniquity where every perversion could be satisfied. It drew people from all over the world, among them the rich and famous, the powerful and elite.

He made it a point to remove anything that might identify him as the sheikh of Nahr, but he pulled his most expensive clothes from the closet, had the most expensive sports car pulled from his collection.

When he looked at himself in the mirror, he had to smile grimly. Adnan was a large man, topping six feet with close-cropped dark hair. With his dark skin and his nearly black eyes, there was always something intimidating about him, but right now, in his well-tailored clothes, he looked like nothing more than a rich man out to have some fun. He had never felt more serious in his life, however.

“Well, how do I look?” he asked Roja, who was dressed in his customary black.

“Like a rich man who wants others to know it,” Rojas responded. “Do you have the itinerary?”

“Memorized,” Adnan said. “We do the circuit, and hopefully in that time, someone will alert the Razorback that there is a prospective customer for him.”

“Yes. See his wares, pretend to be dissatisfied, walk out. After that, we can take him.”

The plan was simple enough. The risk to himself was fairly low overall, but Adnan couldn't stop his heart from beating a little faster as he stepped out into the hot night, his bodyguards by his side. He could take care of himself quite easily, but tonight, he needed to show the city that he was a man of means, one who needed bodyguards.

As he toured the city, he found himself wishing that he could have a drink or two. Mirago operated under no law, and the city wallowed in a desperation that made him sick. He saw men beating each other bloody for money; he saw women watching him with dull eyes devoid of hope. It was an evil place, and he wished all over again that he had the power to wipe it off the map.

If this mission succeeded, however, there would be at least one victory to celebrate, so he kept his mind in the moment.

It only took a few stops before a skinny man sidled up to him, an ingratiating look on his face.

“You look like a man who knows quality, I think,” the man said, his voice a grating whine.

“I like to think I am,” Adnan said, even if he instinctively wanted to punch the man. He had that kind of face. “What kind of quality do you think I am interested in?”

The man made a gesture with his hands that left very little to the imagination, and Adnan allowed himself to sneer. It was very easy.

“I'm not a man who wants to lower himself into the garbage for one night,” he snorted. “I deserve better than that, I think.”

He made to turn away, but the skinny man didn't leave.

“Ah, the great lord wishes to buy rather than rent,” he said with a rather unnerving giggle. “Well, all things are possible in this great city under the mountain.”

Adnan frowned, tapping his finger impatiently on his phone. He looked every inch the bored, spoiled lord this man thought he was. He spun the tension out for a little longer.

“And I suppose that you think you have something that I want.”

The skinny man's smile grew slyer and more repugnant than ever.

“I might, yes I might, great lord—”

Adnan exploded into motion. In only a second, he had closed the space between them, knotting his fist in the man's shirt. He hauled him up with a single hand until the man's toes were barely touching the floor, and he did all of this while maintaining a bored expression on his face.

“If you don't tell me something that I actually want to hear in ten seconds, I am going to let my men get their exercise by kicking you to pieces,” he said, keeping his voice idle. It was difficult to talk to a human being this way, even one that made his skin crawl, but Adnan wondered if there was a part of himself that liked it just fine.

“I will, I will,” the man said in a shriek. “Oh great lord, I will, but only it is difficult to speak of such things in public, yes? Some kind of discretion is needed.”

“Discretion…I would have doubted that you could even pronounce the word if you hadn't done it just now.”

Adnan dropped the man carelessly, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief to wipe his hands.

“All right. Where I can find the merchandise that you are promising?”

The man was shaking his head.

“No, no, we will bring it to you, at least, we will do so the first time,” he said. “After that, if the great lord wants another…”

Adnan narrowed his eyes.

“That sounds like a scam if I ever heard one.”

“It is the only way the Razorback will do business,” the skinny man said with a shrug. For the first time, he said it in a way that made Adnan believe him, and inwardly, the sheikh swore. The plan had been to get into position by following a contact to wherever the Razorback had his hideout, but the precaution of meeting at a place that Adnan designated threw a wrench in the works.

“All right,” he said, as if it didn't matter to him at all. “Talk to my bodyguard. He'll tell you where we are staying. I am available tonight. If you cannot provide me with something interesting by then, I am not interested.”

The skinny man was all smiles suddenly, and as he bowed his way back to speak with a bodyguard, Adnan could feel his stomach turn over. What the hell was going on here? How could people decide that they owned others?

Even as he asked himself that question, he knew the answer all too well. People did this because they knew they could get away with it. He would have to play his part or end the whole operation. When he thought of Roja's vengeance, he knew that he had to stay in.

He only hoped that it would be over soon.

***

“I hope this ends soon,” Emily said, swallowing hard.

Oma hummed as she put the finishing touch on Emily's makeup.

“It is better instead to hope that you will find some kind of safe harbor,” she corrected. “Death is an ending, after all.”

Over the last few days, Emily had come to realize how lucky she was to have Oma. When they came to the holding station where another half-dozen girls were held, it was clear that their keepers had not been nearly as careful with them. They cried, they rocked themselves into a stupor, and they could not believe what had happened to them. Emily would never have called herself happy, but she was at least grimly determined to do what had to be done.

They had waited for several days in that dark place, and finally one of the armed and masked men had come down. A quick conversation with Oma later, and he had ushered her and Oma into a car and taken them to a hotel room. Emily's nerves were frayed from the constant vigilance, but Oma told her to be calm.

“This is where you prove yourself,” she said. “If you make a good sale, you can be free of these monsters.”

Emily could have snorted. Free of these monsters and with someone who was willing to spend money to own a woman. She couldn't see how it was better. She was learning to keep her barbs to herself, however. Instead, she had decided to be watchful and to be clever. At any moment, she might have an opportunity to escape, and when it came, she had to be ready.

Oma closed the makeup kit with a note of finality. “There, you're done.”