Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14) Read Online Free PDF

low croak. More memories came back.
    That fucking slaver—the paralytic he
injected into my vocal chords… But shouldn’t it have worn off by now?
    “Don’t
try to talk,” the girl said. Her slim brown hand came towards his face and Thrace
tried to jerk away, certain she was holding some kind of a weapon. Retribution,
maybe, for the way he’d hurt her.
    “Hold
still, she admonished him. “You’re sweating like crazy—I’m trying to cool you
down. Not that it ended very well the last time I tried it.” She touched her
fingertips to her bruised throat and winced before reaching for him again.
    Thrace watched
as her hand descended to his face. He tried to raise his own hand to stop her
but the manacles held him fast. He was tied down and helpless—there was nothing
he could do.
    He
felt his breathing go short and sharp as his heart started to pound. There was
nothing worse than this feeling of helplessness—the feeling of being tied down
and unable to move while another acted upon you.
    Ha—“acted upon you.” That’s a nice way to
put it, growled a sarcastic voice in his head. Really fucking poetic considering—
    The
hand reached his face and something soft and cool and slightly damp caressed
his forehead. Thrace
jerked again—this time in surprise.
    “See
you big silly? It’s just a wet cloth. Just to make you feel better.” The girl
spoke to him in a soft, coaxing voice, almost as though she was talking to a
wounded animal or a sick child. “Not gonna hurt you, big fella,” she went on,
stroking his hot cheeks with the cloth too. “Just trying to help you get well.”
    Thrace stared
at her uncertainly. He had nearly choked the life out of her—why was she
touching him so gently? And why was she talking to him like he could barely
understand him? He opened his mouth again.
    “Un…tie,”
he finally managed to croak.
    “I
can’t do that, sorry,” she said.
    “Un… tie!” Thrace demanded more forcefully,
though it hurt his throat.
    “I
can’t and it’s your own fault.” The girl frowned at him. “I can’t let you go,
not after you did this.” She touched her bruised throat with her fingertips
again. “Not that I think you did it on purpose,” she went on quickly before he
could formulate a reply. “But I’m pretty much the only person who feels that
way. The rest of the crew all think you’re some kind of crazed psychopathic
monster and honestly, they didn’t have that high of an opinion of you even before you tried to strangle me. Because
you’re male, I mean.” She sighed and shook her head. “If I let you up to roam
around the ship I’d have a mutiny on my hands.”
    Thrace looked
at her appraisingly. So she was the captain of a ship—which was probably where
he was being held. The question was, how the hell did he get loose and get out
of here? Experimentally, he tried the manacles again but they were incredibly
strong—some kind of alloy maybe. Thrace doubted he’d be able to
break them.
    “Those
are plasti-dura-steel,” she said conversationally. “We used them last cycle
when we transported a Gox. Have you seen them? They’re these huge, hairy
beasts—about your size but they have two hundred times the strength of a normal
male. So you might as well give up. You’re going to be manacled to your cot
until I can be sure you’re not a risk to me or my crew.”
    Thrace opened
his mouth but his voice didn’t want to work at all now. Damn it, when would the
paralytic wear off? Or were his problems vocalizing due to the merciless bout
of agony he’d experienced when the slaver used the pain collar on him? Either
way, when he tried to speak, all that came out was a croak.
    “Look,
you’ve been out for hours,” the girl said. “Are you thirsty?”
    Thrace tried
to say “yes” but again, only a dry croak came out this time.
    “Don’t
try to speak—your voice needs to recover like the rest of you,” the girl
admonished. “Just nod your head if you want a