His Human Prisoner (Zandian Masters 2)

Prologue

Lily flattened herself in the tiny washroom near the old airship’s controls. A scrape ran the length of her leg, and her slave’s dress had been soiled during her escape from her master’s pod. She’d barely made it onto the ship her fellow runaways had selected on the fly to hijack. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead.

Please don’t let any being use the washroom before takeoff.

This plan had been eighty planet rotations in the making. It had been a miracle she’d managed to get out at the appointed time to meet the others. They’d chosen a day and a time. Picking the craft to board had been left to the chance of the day, but this one actually seemed to be ideal—a rusty old ship with just six crewmembers to overpower. She’d hidden close to the cockpit to aid in taking the pilot and first mate.

She peered through the slats in the door and watched him—a huge male of a species she’d never before seen—flick on the engines. A small, wizened female entered and settled into the copilot’s chair.

Oh veck. Was she Venusian? If so, she would intuit Lily and the other slaves’ presence on the ship. Venusians possessed extrasensory abilities.

The pilot initiated hover movement, easing out of the dock. If she weren’t holding her breath, praying she made it off Ocretia without getting caught, she would admire his muscled shoulders, the bulging biceps and corded muscles of his forearms. He sat taller than an average human by at least a foot and his skin had a purple tinge to it. Two horns on the top of his head gave him a rugged, fierce appearance.

He steered the ship through the incoming traffic, weaving in and out at a speed that made her stomach lurch.

She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to Mother Earth. If all went well, she’d be free in a matter of hours—a slave no more. Unless he heard about the other missing slaves, her elderly owner wouldn’t notice her absence until late that night, and even then, he’d never suspect she’d made it to the dock and onto an airship. Ocretions grossly underestimated human intelligence, and Lily had always played the simple, docile sex slave for him. Not that the old male had been able to use her for that purpose much. No, she’d been lucky with him. She’d only had to look beautiful in her scanty uniform and endure his petting while she served him.

The pilot punched up the speed, zooming into the outer layer of traffic, farther away from the territory of her odious captors. Traffic grew lighter and lighter until, at last, they made it into free space. The pilot set the controls and stood up.

“You should take care of the stowaway in the washroom,” the old Venusian said.

“Are you vecking kidding me?” He cursed. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” He marched over and threw open the door.

She pointed her laser gun at his throat, but the huge male batted it to the floor as if she’d held a twig. Because it was too far away to reach, and his speed and strength greatly exceeded hers, she held her hands up and put on her best helpless female eyes.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She feigned weakness, knowing her beauty and slight stature worked in her favor. Seven years as a sexual slave had taught her a great deal about minimizing injury from males.

His brows shot up as he took in her appearance, and she knew what he saw. A slip of a human female, scantily dressed and possessing the qualities considered beautiful by most beings. Though she was used to inspiring hunger in males, the flash of it in his eyes came with particular satisfaction.

He was younger than she’d guessed initially—not much older than she, if she measured by human standards, but his eyes and the scars on his handsome face told a story of a life hard lived.

So they had something in common.

She let the miniscule sex servant’s dress she’d stolen to escape slip down her shoulder, revealing skin and the suggestion of one breast.

The pilot’s eyes traced down, stopping at the place her nipple lay hidden beneath the cloth.

It puckered under his gaze. Her body’s reaction surprised her. She never grew aroused from a male’s attention, not even in the throes of sexual activity. It seemed purple skinned and horned was her type. Go figure.

“Oh no, pet.” He shook his head, apparently steeling himself against her helpless female act. “You picked the wrong airship to hide on.” After picking up her weapon, he grasped her wrist and pulled her out under the lights, giving her another head-to-toe sweeping glance. To the Venusian, he said, “Why didn’t you tell me before we took off?”

The old female blinked her protuberant emerald eyes. She smelled of brownbeer, and her short, black hair stuck up at all angles, as if she hadn’t brushed it in days. “She means something to you.”

His eyes narrowed, and his gaze returned to her. “Veck. You know I don’t believe in that excrement.”

The Venusian shrugged. “Denial will not change your destiny.”

He rolled his eyes and gripped Lily’s elbow, steering her into the bowels of the ship.

She took note of where in his belt he tucked her laser gun, biding her time.

The pilot kicked a sleeping chamber door open and stepped inside with her. “What’s your name?”

“Lily.” She made her voice sound breathy, sweet.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Anywhere. Wherever you’re going.” Again, she tried to appear fragile, in need of protection.

He scowled.

Holding his gaze with her own, she eased down to her knees.

His eyes changed from a purple-ish brown to a light violet, and the sexy horns stiffened and leaned in her direction.