Blood of the Neko - 13. Chapter 13

"I missed you, and now you're all mine," Borin was saying, his rancid body pressing up against Kayden's thin, aching one, but Kayden didn't hear him.

'Mine,' a deep voice echoed in his memories, dragging him from the numb, listless place that he'd been retreating to ever since he'd been dragged back into the hunters' camp. The place where he wouldn't feel anymore.

'Mine.'

'Yes, always.'

His mind flooded with images of his master, his lover. Damien. His master leaning over him, caressing his body and kissing his way down his ribs. His lord nibbling at the sensitive junction of his neck and shoulder, creating small bruises. Sometimes he would be littered with his master's marks, his love bites. "Mine," Damien would say. "All mine."

And he was. Damien was not only his lord, but he was also the master of his heart. He always had been, ever since Damien had claimed him, marking him as his with the offer of the silver chain. And that's all he wanted to be.

'I love you,' his master's whisper echoed in his brain, and he gasped at the powerful feeling that washed over him.

Kayden had never doubted his master's love.

Until now.

As the deep blue eyes of his master floated in his mind's eye, he ached at the thought of the hurt and betrayal he'd last seen in Damien's eyes. The anger he'd felt at the accusation that Damien thought Kayden could ever love anyone else welled up in him again.

He'd shoved Lord Whitmore, and that both terrified him and sparked his courage a bit. Suddenly, Kayden realized he wasn't the weak slave he'd been before, that he'd changed. He was more. He could face his master and tell him he was wrong and stupid and an idiot, and Damien wouldn't hurt him for saying it. He would face his master and make him believe.

Kayden clenched his jaw with a renewed determination. He wasn't going to just slide back into his old life as a slave. He was the Duke's companion, his lover, his protector, and he wasn't going to let these men take that away from him so easily.

Borin didn't notice the fierce scowl that morphed on the trembling neko's face from fear to hate. He didn't notice the boy's hands renewing their grip on the rope holding him. Borin was focused on sliding his hands down the young body. He was leering as he crouched down to untie the expensive breeches on the lean waist.

Kayden's hiss at the man's tugging fingers attracted the attention of one of the nearby slaves. His sad eyes wracked with pity. But Kayden didn't look away this time. He stared down the man, infusing him with strength. The slave straightened when he saw the determined look on the boy's face.

The slave growled lowly, "Leave him alone."

Borin startled at the bold demand of the slave, turning slightly to snap a retort. But it was enough of a distraction for Kayden to act. He whipped his legs up, snapping them around Borin's neck and tightening them. For once, he was glad of his small body; his small legs could clamp down around the man's neck easily under his chin.

Borin gasped in shock, but Kayden only tightened his hold. Kayden was afraid the man would manage to scream and wake the others, so he used every leg and thigh muscle that he had built up in all of his climbing and jumping and running and riding... until he choked off all the air the man was trying to drag in.

He ignored the man's clawing hands on his legs, he ignored the fact that he was choking the life out of a man. None of that mattered. He wasn't going to be afraid any more. He wasn't going to let these men destroy his life.

It seemed like forever, but finally, he felt Borin's body collapsing under him. He held on as long as he could, hoping it was enough to keep the man from just coughing air back into his lungs then standing up and killing him. But when he released his grip, the man dropped to the ground. Kayden watched the man in the moon light for a few seconds, but he didn't move.

Kayden's green eyes shot up at a sound, but only met the glittering eyes of the two slaves, watching him with awe and eagerness. They snuck glances back at the men in the tents. There was a snuffling sound as one of them rolled over, but none of the hunters woke.

Kayden let out a deep breath, trying to think. He'd reacted to the man's groping, but he hadn't thought about what he'd do next. If the hunters woke and found Borin unconscious, or could he hope dead even, he knew that he wouldn't survive their wrath.

If he was going to survive, he needed to do something now. Borin had the keys to the slave's chains, but there was no way either he or the other slaves could reach them. Kayden's eyes darted up at his straining arms. They ached, his wrists were bleeding from the rope burning into them with his movements. He scrambled at the knots with his fingers, but the strain of his body on the ropes kept them too tight to even try to maneuver into loosening.

A slight noise from one of the slaves drew his attention. The man was pointing at the branch. Kayden twisted to see how far the branch was. It was only a foot or so above his head. He tried pushing off the ground to jump up, but he could barely touch the ground, let alone get enough leverage to jump high enough to grab the limb. Then he tried maneuvering Borin's slumped body under his feet, but he only succeeded in straining his wrists more.

Kayden panted heavily, his efforts quickly draining what little energy he had. But the grins and nods of encouragement from the other slaves bolstered his resolve. He glanced up at the limb again. With a heaving breath, he gripped the rope in his hands again, and using every stomach muscle that he'd managed to build, he levered the lower half of his body up until he could scramble at the limb with his feet.

Sweat dripped from his face and neck as he strained to keep pulling his body toward the limb. He gasped loudly, exhausted when he finally managed to wrap his legs around the branch, holding himself upside down with his thighs.

A snort from the tents caused him to freeze, and even the two slaves glanced worriedly over their shoulders. But when no movement came, they resumed watching Kayden's efforts.

Kayden hung there, staring up at the limb for a few moments, catching his breath. The knot holding him to the tree seemed impossibly far away. But he could practically feel the excitement of the other slaves, their hope kept renewing his strength.

With his muscles screaming at him, he curled the upper half of his light body toward the knot. Body shaking with the effort to hold himself up, he tugged at the knot furiously. But his fingers were weak and numb from holding the rope already, and he had to drop back down. He bit back a cry as the rope yanked his wrists when his torso dropped.

"Try again," one of the slaves encouraged. "You can do it."

But Kayden was exhausted, his tail drooped limply, his head falling back, shaking. "I can't," he whimpered.

"You can," the other one hissed softly. "Don't let them win. You don't belong to them."

'Mine,' the voice insisted in his head.

Kayden choked back a sob at his master's voice, those deep blue eyes drowning him in his love. "Yes, yours."

With a grunt, he heaved himself back up to the knot. His fingers yanked relentlessly, almost blindly, as tears leaked from his eyes, seeping back along his temples into his damp hair.

He almost cried out in frustration as he felt his ab muscles screaming at him to give up. When they finally won the battle of wills, and he dropped back again, he was so shocked when his arms dropped free that he almost fell. He managed to clamp his legs back on the branch, allowing himself to swing freely upside down for several minutes, unaware of the other slaves' excited movements.

Looking at the ground, he wanted to just let go and drop, but that would be dangerous--landing on his head like that. Adrenaline surged through him at the thought of how close he was now. Flexing his fingers one last time, he curled up, grasping the branch as best he could with his tied hands. He managed to hold on long enough to drop his legs and get them somewhat under him, before he collapsed in a heaving mess on the ground next to Borin.

He vaguely heard the hushed whispers of the other slaves urging him on, but his body didn't want to respond. It had done all it was going to do right now, no matter what his brain was insisting. It was several minutes, lying there with a sheen of sweat cooling over his body, before he could even think of moving.

His grunt was met with furious shushing sounds from the slaves, and he felt his fangs bite into his lip as he kept his voice from screaming out the pain that wracked his body. He could do it. He had done it before.

He finally dragged his aching body over to the collapsed hunter. He still couldn't tell if the man was breathing or not, but he didn't respond when Kayden felt along the man's belt. He sighed at the feel of the man's blade under his quivering fingers. He barely managed to get a grip on the hilt and slide it free, his fingers felt so numb with pain.

He fumbled for a moment with the knife, nearly breaking down in tears when it kept slipping from his fingers.

"Psst, kid," one of the men hissed to get his attention. Kayden dragged his gaze up to see the man beckoning him, waving him over. Kayden finally understood that the man was offering to cut the rope for him, having watched Kayden struggling to do it himself.

With strands of hair sticking to his face and neck, he managed to crawl the few feet over to the other slaves, his hands and wrists stinging with the effort. As soon as he was close enough, the slave grabbed Kayden's shaking arms and dragged him closer.

Straining against his own collar, the other slave leaned over and grabbed the knife from Kayden's slack hands. For a few moments, Kayden allowed himself to let go in the hands of the other men. He didn't have the energy to feel a moment of panic at the unfamiliar hands on his body.

"Shit, he's just a kid," he heard one of them whisper. He wanted to protest that he wasn't a kid, but it wasn't worth the effort. He knew he looked younger than he was, thanks to the hunters starving him for years. Even though he was filling out now, he didn't look anywhere near the seventeen, almost eighteen years, that he actually was.

Kayden felt the tugging on his arms as one of them sawed through the blood-encrusted rope. The one holding him in his lap was smoothing back his damp hair. Kayden took the brief respite to rest. Behind his closed eyes, he could see the proud, smiling face of Joseph Nash. The guard would be proud of how far he'd gotten, and he prayed that Damien found the guard and saved him. The faces of Brenner, Finn, Ellis, Ysmenia, John and even Garin swam in and out of focus as he imagined them grinning at his success so far. Damien, he imagined, was the one holding him, petting him as he always did.

He felt his wrists drop apart abruptly, and his eyes shot open. He started when he realized it wasn't Damien holding him. As he dragged his body up, he nodded gratefully to the slaves.

"The key," the one who had freed his hands whispered, pointing over to the prone Borin.

Kayden drew in a deep breath, as if he could pull energy from the cool air and drag it into his body. Steeling himself against the misery he knew moving would cause, he crawled back over to the hunter. A quick search of pockets revealed the key to the locks. He tossed the keys over to the older slaves, which they scrambled to grab and furiously went to work unlocking each other's collars.

When they were free, they darted over to him, lifting him up to carry him with them.

"No." Kayden pulled away from them, managing to stand on his own. He glanced back at the other hunters in their tents. "I need to try to stop them."

"No, just come on," the blond hissed, grabbing his arm.

Kayden knew the man would never understand. They had just been with the hunters for a few days. They didn't understand how many lives these men had destroyed. How much fear they had instilled in him. How many scars they had left on both his body and his soul.

He couldn't walk away knowing they'd continue to rape other people's lives like they had his and so many others.

"Go," he whispered heavily. "Get to the main pass and head down it as fast as you can. My master will be going that way. He'll protect you."

"He'll want you too," the man argued.

"And I'll come, behind you."

Neither man looked happy, but they realized they weren't going to change the young neko's mind either. Kayden could see the beginning of the rosy hue of dawn starting to peek over the mountain as the two men disappeared into the dark of the forest. He wouldn't have much time before the hunters awoke.

He crept around the edge of the camp. Ehern's tent was at the far edge. While he didn't have a specific plan formulated in his head, he knew attacking them outright with a knife or even a gun would only allow him to stop maybe one of them, two at most, before the rest would realize what was happening. The men were much bigger than he was, so he held little hope of being able to subdue them and manage to keep them quiet in the process.

He supposed the thought, a viable plan, had been there ever since he first watched the hunter feed poisoned gruel to one of the slaves that was too old to sell. Over the five years he'd been a slave with the hunters, he'd seen at least a dozen or so slaves that were either too old or too rebellious to sell fall prey to Ehern's poison. It had an acrid scent, like spoiled almonds, but most humans didn't notice it. He had hated that smell.

Especially when he'd scented it on Damien's plate last year.

He rapidly pushed back the thoughts of the Marquis's attempt to poison the duke, and the subsequent whipping he'd received from the man. All that mattered was that the duke had come for him. Damien had finally believed in him and knew his brother for the traitor that he was.

He reached the edge of the tent and snaked his hand around to the box that Ehren keep all of his utensils of torture in. He winced as a chain rattled when he dug to the bottom, feeling for the flask of poison. His hands curled around the vaguely familiar metal container and shook it. It felt about half full.

A snort from one of the other tents had him freezing momentarily as he scooted across the camp to where the hunters had dropped their water botas next to the water bucket. He quickly yanked the cork out of the first bota, wrinkling his nose at the sharp scent of some sort of ale.

He dumped some of the poisonous liquid into it, recapped it and swirled it before laying it back down. After repeating the process with the second bota, he debated dumping the rest of the poison into the water bucket, but he thought maybe they might recognize the scent before consuming any. Mixed with the ale, it wasn't noticeable, but with the plain water it would be.

As the sun dawned its golden rays over the trees, he scooped a bit of water from the bucket, quenching his parched throat. His trembling hand dropped the ladle with a sharp rattle. He hissed at his stupid pain-addled clumsiness as he heard a sharp movement from one of the tents.

Fuck. He staggered a few yards away from the camp when he heard the first grunt and yell. He was still way too close, and he could never out run them in his current condition. He darted behind the nearest tree, hearing the roar of anger well up from the tents. His arms felt so heavy and leaden that he didn't think he could manage a climb as he stared up at the thick limbs above him. Sheer fear and willpower finally won out as he dragged his body up the tree, collapsing among the branches and praying he didn't finally pass out and fall.

yeah, I know three cliffhangers in a row!  I'm a cliffhanger queen!  There's plenty of chapters still to come... 22 total, so hang in there...
Thanks for reading!