CHAPTER TWENTY ONE



The tall, red-headed woman stood in the stable courtyard. She was perfectly still, focusing her energies before starting her callisthenics routine. She was a calmer warrior than the others, having been trained in a different stable than the others. Only Snake shared the same fighting technique. When she was ready to begin, she tensed her muscles ready to pounce, only to be stopped by the sound of heavy footsteps. She didn't need to open her eyes to know their source. As the tall shadow fell over her, she looked up.

"What's the matter, baby?" Her voice was soft, her eyes searching those of her lover.

"Have you noticed something different about Hunter?" The big man wore an expression of total befuddlement.

Megan couldn't resist that look, and stole a quick kiss from her partner. As she pulled back, she knew that she wouldn't be exercising any time soon, consciously relaxing her warm muscles. She reached for Wolf's hand and they walked towards their room. They entered the renovated stable block and made their way to the small apartment they had made. After they arrived, the sleeping situation had rapidly changed from one shared room, to a series of apartments. The twins, had the largest space and Snake and Savage the smallest. It worked out well. When the twins had been killed, the practical side of the warriors had won through, meaning that the barracks now consisted of three apartments. The couple lowered themselves onto a small green sofa they had been given, body's facing each other.

"So, have you noticed anything about Hunter?" Wolf was like an over protective big brother where the other gladiator was concerned. He couldn't always look after her, but he could always worry.

"Like what?" She knew what the fidgeting man was talking about, but couldn't help teasing him.

"For the last few days she's been in a daze. Every time you talk to her she just phases out. Not to mention that she and Francesca are even more inseparable now than before. God, if they walked any closer together they'd be sharing the same skin. It's just not like her." His face was grim, worry etched in every line.

"You are such a dummy sometimes Mathew. Francesca and Hunter have finally taken the plunge. They must have admitted their feelings to each other, and I gotta say its about time!" The smile that lit up her lovers face was almost blinding.

"That's fantastic!" He leaped from the sofa, intent on finding his friend.

"Matt, sit down. I think this is a new thing for them. Leave them alone, Hunter will tell you when she's ready." She kissed a stubble covered cheek. "Just be happy for them."

"You've got the brains, I got the looks. A winning combination." He smiled at her as she moved to lean against his chest.

"Now that you've ruined my practice time, you'll just have to entertain me for thirty minutes. I wonder what we can do to fill that time." Her voice turned sultry as strong arms wrapped around her.

**********

Blue eyes studied the hand clasped within her own. Her long fingered, well manicured hand engulfed the smaller one it held. The hand in her grasp was golden and marked. To the woman looking down at it, it was perfection. Every scar and symbol on the other woman's body was a sign of her strength and the courage that she showed in trusting the woman beside her.

"I did that once." The amused voice snapped Francesca's attention to the woman sitting at her side.

"Um, did what?" The heiress was a little confused.

"I looked at your hands. Compared them to mine. They say a lot about a person, yours are beautiful." Hunter lowered her eyes with the last words, still not totally comfortable talking like this.

"Great minds think alike." She smiled as she gently squeezed the hand she held captive.

"Do you think you we should tell everybody?" The question had been worrying at her since they shared their first kiss three days ago.

"I think it's a little early for that. We barely have anything to tell. I think we should get used to it first." She noticed the smaller woman looking at their clasped hands. "We won't hide this, us. People will see what they want to see. I want to walk holding hands, and hug and kiss, Rhani. I love you."

The blond actually blushed at the reassurance. "We should tell the children, make sure they don't mind. They are what's most important."

"I know. We'll let them see us together for a little while and then explain, alright?" The sandy head nodded. "Wanna make out?" As the blond smiled and leaned forward, the brunette thought that acting like a teenager again wasn't so bad. Not bad at all.

**********

"Sal, I need to tell you something." The grey haired man looked up from his newspaper. "I think you might need this." Darla handed her attentive husband a large glass of scotch.

Salvatore accepted the glass with a bemused look on his face. Whatever his wife was about to tell him must be important if she was giving him scotch. For the last six months she had been trying to get him to stop drinking liquor. She had his full attention.

"I was walking through the grounds yesterday and I saw something." She really didn't know how her husband would take the news. "I was walking through the ornamental garden and I heard voices. One was Francesca's, so I headed towards it. That's when I heard what they were saying. They love each other Sal." She waited.

"I know that Darla. They're friends, they always loved each other when they were children. I thought they might grow closer again." At the look on Darla's face he realised that he wasn't getting it at all. "What am I not getting?"

"I was so close to where they were sitting, I could see them through the hedge. They were holding hands. And before I could look away they were kissing." This time the full impact of her words sank in.

"You're telling me that my daughter is a lesbian." He couldn't quite grasp what he was hearing.

"I don't know Sal. I do know that she loves Hun...Rhani, whatever we call her now. I have never seen her so happy, Sal. That can't be wrong can it? We always wanted her to be happy." She looked deep into his eyes.

"I only want her to be happy, but this is going to be so hard, Darla. It's not bad enough that she'll be a woman partnered to a woman. The fact that her partner is a slave, or even an ex-slave will put them through hell." He was as open minded as the next man, but homosexuality had been one of the old prejudices that had not yet loosened it's hold. That coupled with the loathing directed at slaves by the free would make a hard combination for anybody to beat.

"I know. If they really do love each other, they will make it. We have to support her, no matter what." Darla hoped that she got through to her stubborn husband.

"I'll try." He just didn't think the rest of the world would be so understanding.

**********

Francesca laid on her side under silk sheets and stared at the profile of the woman beside her on the bed. Hunter laid on top of the sheets, staring at the ceiling. They had slept this way every night since their first kiss. Neither one of them was ready to take it the next step, but they still wanted to be close. Hunter would lay on her back, with Francesca beside her and they would talk, rebuilding old bridges and making new ones. Through it all, Hunter remembered her duty to protect her lover. She slept on top of the covers so that if danger arrived she could spring into action without being tied up in Francesca. Tonight was shaping up the same way.

"I want to know what you were like as a teenager? I've told you about me, so it's your turn." The finger brushing through blond hair halted suddenly. "I mean, if its not all really painful."

Hunter reached up and took the hand that had been in her hair and drew it close to her heart. Francesca grasped the opportunity to snuggle closer to her bed mate, resting her head on a convenient shoulder. "My life wasn't all doom and gloom. Well, not until I was seventeen or so." She couldn't believe that she could make light of the past like this. Something about laying in the taller woman's arms just pushed it away.

"So tell me a story."

Hunter tried to find a story she could tell Francesca, discarding one after the other. Many of the things which she had taken pleasure in, the other woman wouldn't understand. She wanted the other woman to know everything, but now wasn't the time. Finally, she settled on one of her more harmless exploits.

"When I was about fourteen, Jordan and I decided we'd play a prank on one of my trainers. He was a real shithead, he'd beat us and not feed us for the smallest things. So, this one time he had punished me by taking away my food privileges for three days. Jordan was more pissed off than me, because she was going to make me something nice as a birthday treat." Francesca interrupted the other woman.

"They punished you or your birthday?" Francesca couldn't contain her disgust at people who would do that to a child. She could clearing remember the events of all of her birthdays and what age she had been, the fact that Hunter only thought she was fourteen at the time tugged at her heart.

"Well, it wasn't a holiday camp, Chess. I was a commodity, it was like animal training. If we were bad, or didn't learn a new trick we got punished. I really didn't know any different by that point." She let out a low chuckle. "I was actually quite spoilt. They let me have my own room, but I think that's because I could be really vicious cause I was so strong. And they let Jordan come and see me whenever she wanted. It always amazed me that I was so popular with the other gladiators."

"Your just irresistible." Her voice was light, teasing, but inside she was in turmoil.

The fact that this special woman would think that she had been treated well in that environment. And, always in her mind, with every word that Hunter spoke, the spectre of Jordan loomed. Francesca didn't want to be jealous of the dead young woman, a girl who had brought so much joy to the woman in her arms. Her heart wouldn't listen to her head though, the resentment that she felt was too strong, so she did the only thing she could. She pushed it away, locking it in a cage of her own making, hoping against hope that it would not come between her and her new found lover.

"What did you do?"

"So, there we were in my room. Jordan's pacing around like a caged tiger...

"How can you just sit there?" The slim blond waved her hands around agitatedly. The girl on the bed looked on, amused. "They do all this evil shit to you, and you just take it." Her circuit of the room brought her close to her companion, her hands still waving. The younger girl ducked out of the way.

"Jordan, calm down. I made a mistake and I got punished. It's over." She locked green eyes onto her lover. "I can't been given special treatment. I am just happy that they let me be with you. It's enough." The older girl melted at those words, moving to sit beside her on the bed.

"You really are a silver tongued devil, aren't you?"

"So you keep telling me." The teasing remark earned her a stinging slap on the arm. "Hey!"

"Oh, poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?" She stole a quick kiss on the lips.

"I'm pretty sure that's not where you hit me." At the look she was given. "Not that I'm complaining. No sir, not me."

"I'm just...It makes me so sad that I can't give you all the things I'd like to. I can't take you out, or buy you things." Her eyes were glazed with unshed tears.

"You give me everything, Jordan. You stay with me, when you could have anybody you want. You take care of me when I'm hurt and you love me. That's all I want, all I need and all I can give to you."

"It's enough." Then they were kissing again.

Several minutes of kissing passed, the two youths wrapped up in each other. They laid on the narrow bed, Jordan slightly on top of Hunter. The room was tiny, containing only a bed and a tiny bench which doubled as a table. She may not have had too share her space with the other slaves , but she had much less room to live in. The barracks were huge, each slave having a footlocker, clothes cupboard and bed, meaning that their individual areas were much bigger then Hunters.

"I wish we could get back at the old goat."

"Um, been there, done that. That's why I'm here." It was a sore subject between the pair. Each blamed themselves for the events that led Hunter to this place.

"I don't mean hurt him. Well, maybe a little. We could humiliate him....Yeah, that'd work." A worried look spread across the warriors face. "I'll arrange everything, you just need to be there."

"I hate when you get that look in your eyes."

"What look?" Guiles eyes turned to her. The picture of innocence.

"That look. I know I'm going to regret this, what's the plan?"

It took a few days for Jordan to set the plan in motion. She was good friends with a lot of the kitchen staff, and a few small bribes meant that she had access to Trainer Petersons food. She got a healthy quantity of slow acting laxatives and was ready to go.

"HUNTER!" The small blond warrior snapped to attention. She had been lounging against the wall with the other gladiators, waiting for her turn.

"Sir."

"You match up with Red." A Shout rang out over the sand. "FIGHT!"

The tall, paunchy man moved to the side, watching the youths spar with critical eyes. He hated the way that the girl-warrior was treated. She was property, to be treated like the commodity she was and scrapped when she was broken. Not to be coddled and allowed a lover, especially not a free woman. It was obscene. He saw a vicious blow land on Red, flawing the boy.

"ENOUGH!" Two medics flew into the training ring and carted the teenager off to the infirmary. Peterson wound up to tear a chunk out of the girl before him. "How dare you! I know you know better than to damage your fellow fighters. You are an abomination! You are going to regret ever setting foot..." He trailed off suddenly as his stomach began to roil. He tried to ignore the discomfort and continue. "You will be sent to the...Argh!" The pain doubled in intensity, focussing solely in his stomach. He felt like his intestines were about to explode. He couldn't take anymore, casting one hatful look at the young girl in front of him before running to the exit.

The gladiators all watched, smirking as he tried to leave. The man was moving in a combination of a skip, trot and sprint and looked like an utter fool. Before he could reach the door the sound of a wet fart echoed from wall to wall. A large, dark stain appeared on the back of his pants as he gained speed, finally managing to escape. The thirty boys and girls broke out in hysterical laughter. Hunter looked up at the observation seats, sharing a beaming, loving smile at Jordan.

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She woke from the dream, tears falling from her eyes as she remembered. They had loved each other so much, and now the bitch who made her beloved a slave, got to have her. The dark basement closed in around her as she wiped the tears away, she would free Hunter if it killed her. They would be together again. It was meant to be. Jordan had worked hard to punish the Prince family, she wouldn't fail now.




CHAPTER TWENTY TWO



It was time. She had waited long enough. The damn Princess had dug her claws far enough into Hunter. She would set the gladiator free. She would do what she could never do when they were young. She would be the protector.

Since seeing the two women kiss in the clearing, Jordan had been livid. She had stopped showing up for work. The station kept calling their errant officer, simply to be ignored. When she had started threatening the singer, she had been able to keep working, showing no evidence of her endeavours to her colleagues. Since the gladiators showed up her ability to stay detached had slipped, until she could no longer function. She had to make a move now, while she still had access to police resources.

She had been planning this since the beginning. She had scrapped together enough money to buy two small homes in different locations. Neither in the same name. Being a police officer had taught her how to hide from pursuit, how to leave no trace. Her goal may have changed but the plan would stay the same. She had originally planned to take the heiress by force, torture her and then return her to her family as an example of what happened when you treated people like property. Now that Hunter was in the equation, she would have to kidnap them both, so as not to incriminate the slave. Then they would run away together. Run away to a country without slavery.

She methodically packed the equipment she needed into her duffle bag. The dark basement room was now as empty as the rest of the house. She had burnt and sold everything that gave a clue to who she was. Her police uniform and badge were hanging in her locker, pristine, not showing a trace of their wearer. As she zipped the clack bag, pulling the balaclava over her face, she bid farewell to the life she had lived for almost ten years. A choice she had made to bring here to this place.

Throwing the keys into the middle of the deserted lounge room, she was gone. An engine starting up was the only sound in the now derelict building.

**********

Francesca wished that they could walk down the street like the other couples, holding hands or arm in arm, but she knew it wasn't possible. All slaves on the street had to be identified as such. Hunter wore a bright blue armband, the logo of the Prince corporation emblazoned across it. That meant they had to walk as they always had, with Hunter slightly behind and to the left. She looked over her shoulder and shared a secret smile with her lover, at least they were together.

Today they were on their way to see Francesca's record company. They had been surprising understanding about her situation and had not pressured her to get back into the studio. The heiress had been the one to contact them. She had been feeling inspired lately, writing song after song. She wanted to be back in the studio again, so here they were.

They were approaching the large office building on foot, having been dropped at the park by the chauffer. They had eaten lunch in the park, out of the way of prying eyes. The park was only minutes away from the office complex, so Hunter didn't think it would be too risky. They hadn't even been hounded for autographs, which made a pleasant change.

As they began to cross the street a slow moving car approached from the other direction. Hunter saw that one of the windows was open, but the moderate speed put her mind at rest. An assailant would be going at high speed, ready to hit and run. As they waited on a traffic island for the car to pass, a loud crack ripped through the air. Too late Hunter saw the sun glint off a weapon, then everything went black.

Francesca's mind froze. Hunter crumpled at her feet, a tranquilliser dart sticking out of her neck. As she knelt to check on her partner another shot rang out, followed by a sharp pain in her back. She crumpled on top of the warrior. It all happened in less than a minute.

The car stopped in front of the two prone figures, shielding them from view. The lithe figure jumped out, opening the rear door and dragging both women in as fast as possible, slamming the door on a tangle of arms and legs. Seconds later she was speeding away. She made sure not to break any traffic laws, it wouldn't do to get caught now.

As she moved onto the interstate she pulled the mask over her face, ruffling a hand through her flattened hair. She glanced at the two unconscious forms in the rear, unmoving. They should stay out for several more hours, she had put enough drug in the darts to lay out a race horse. She couldn't take any chances.

The nondescript red family saloon blended with the other cars on the busy road. A woman on her way home, not a care in the world. Not a sign of what she had done.




CHAPTER TWENTY THREE



Hunter swam to consciousness through a fog, blearily becoming aware of herself. As her mind cleared, she began to take a mental inventory of her situation, careful not to open her eyes. She knew that it was best not to alert her captor that she was awake. Her head still felt like it was full of cotton wool and the inside of her mouth was like the Sahara. Must have been one hell of a dart. She moved down her body, lightly bunching each muscle, soon discovering that she was immobilised, tied down. A sudden chill washed over her skin, raising gooseflesh in it's wake. I'm naked...Great.

She focused all her attention on the room around her. She inhaled deeply, surprised when no dust tickled her nose. The room actually smelt fresh, clean with the feint odour of perfume. Not your average underworld hideout. She could make out flickering light through her closed eyelids and warmth on her face. Wherever she was it was still daytime. All the while she was listening. The soft breeze rustled fabric, warm furniture creaked as it expanded. There was no sign of civilisation, no cars or planes. It was unnerving, even in the mansion the sounds of the rat race intruded. Sure that the room was empty except for her, she slowly opened her eyes.

The light was soft, diffused by gauzy drapes on the windows, but the light still stung enough to bring tears to her eyes. She cast her eyes around the room, noticing the polished wood floor and plush rugs. Gothic style antique furniture filled the large room, making it into a scene from a romance novel. In the back of her mind something was pushing forward, but stayed just out of reach. She craned her neck to see the door, it was heavy and didn't fit with the decor of the room. It was the door to a cell. Suddenly an object on the floor caught her eye. It was a black pump laying on its side, alone on the cream rug.

Francesca! It hit her with the force of a blow, they had both been taken to this place. Hunter's heart began to race wildly - if Francesca wasn't here, in this room, where was she? What was the maniac doing to her lover? She had no doubt that this was the work of the stalker who had come back with avengeance. Fear mixed with guilt. Fear of what was happening to her beloved and guilt that she hadn't been her first thought. How could she forget about her?

She began to struggle with her restraints. She was spread eagled on the mattress her hands and feet bound at the four corners. The cuffs were bound so tightly that she had no room to flex her muscle, making her struggle ineffectual. With the drug still running rampant through her system, it wasn't long before she was breathing hard and aching from the strain. Finally she relaxed, realising that it was futile. She would have to bide her time, wait until their kidnapper made a move.

She relaxed, allowing her head to drop down to the pillow. In her minds eye she pictured Francesca, alone and afraid. She tried to focus, but the dark woman's face broke through her resolve time and again. Her blood boiled as she thought about what could be happening to her lover. As she was about to redouble her efforts to break free, the sound of a key turning in a heavy duty lock made her freeze. She watched entranced as the bolts shifted and the handle turned.

The door swung open onto a dark hallway, no daylight seemed to penetrate the recesses of the building. The figure in the doorway was bathed in shadow and Hunter couldn't make out any details. Then, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud a woman stepped into the light. She was tall, slim and dressed in soft linen pants and a sleeveless silk shirt. She walked through the doorway and made her way straight to the prone warrior.

Something about the woman struck the gladiator as familiar. She focused on the approaching figures face. It was angular and surrounded by a halo of short blond hair. Her lips were full, but her eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. Mirrored sunglasses. It was the police officer who had been at the house so much, who had been at the funeral reception. Who had driven them to the station. A sudden thrill ran through her, if the police had found them they were saved.

Her hopes were squashed as the woman reached the side of the bed. Rather than reaching over and unfastening the restraints, she sat on the edge of the mattress and reached out a hand. She extended a finger and ran it down the centre of the Hunters naked chest, earning a shudder from the body below her. Dread surged through Hunter, her hopes crushed by that one, gentle caress. This was the one. She had been among them all this time, and none of the warriors had seen it. Before she could begin to berate herself, the slender woman began to speak.

"I've missed you so much." Long fingered hands continued to trace patterns around her torso.

Hunter latched onto that voice, it was so familiar. She had never really heard this woman speak before. When they had been in the car together, she had been in to much pain to pay her any attention. This was a voice from her past, a voice she knew as well as her own. The voice was the same, but the face was wrong. The chin too sharp, the cheeks too high, the lips not quite full enough. These were changes that age could not have made. Then the hand moved off of her body, taking hold of the sunglasses and pulling the off.

"Jordan." It came out as a choked whisper. She was trapped in soft blue eyes that she had drowned in time after time. The face was different, but those eyes and that voice remained the same.

"I knew you recognised me. All those times I saw you at the mansion, I knew you were just waiting. I knew that you trusted that I would set you free. Even with all the brainwashing that bitch has done to you, you love me." She lent down and place a soft kiss on Hunter's lips, not seeming to notice that she didn't respond.

"You look different." This was way to much information, but the gladiator knew that she had to get some answers, Francesca's life may depend on it.

"When they took me away, after the rebellion, they couldn't really hurt me. You can't kill the free that easily. So they gave me a tonne of money and told me that if I ever went near you again they'd have you killed. I couldn't risk your life like that. I had to be close to you, so I used the money to have facial surgery." She looked momentarily lost. "You do like the way I look? Don't you?" Hunter nodded. "I watched all of your fights, from the front row, I was always there. It almost killed me to see you hurt and not be able to care for you. I joined the police force, because I wanted to help people as I couldn't help you. Some of the scum that walk free, well they need to be put down. Trials are to good for them, so I did the job that everybody is to afraid to. I did it all for you, to make you proud when I set you free."

Hunters eyes went wide at this revelation. Jordan, her Jordan, could never take a life. She had always been so loving and gentle. The woman in front of her was crazy. She snapped, she gave up everything to stay with me and they took it all away. She didn't know who to blame. Something still didn't make sense; why had she gone after Francesca?

"Why did you start stalking Francesca Rose?" It couldn't be about her, she had only come to the house after all this started.

"Don't you remember? They did this to you. They let you be sold. You loved them and they didn't care about you. All the bad things that happened to you, they were responsible. You loved their daughter. I couldn't afford to buy you, even with the money they gave me. I would never be able to get you back, so they needed to be punished. To loose the most precious thing they had. I did it all for you." Jordan didn't seem to see the stricken look on her warriors face. "When they bought you, it was like God was smiling down on me. I could set you free and get vengeance. Don't you see, this was all destined."

As she reached out a hand to caress a scared cheek, Hunter snapped her head away sharply, repulsed by what she had heard. The woman she had loved had turned into a murdering, obsessive lunatic.

"How could you? If you hurt Francesca, I will kill you." Her voice had dropped to it's most dangerous register.

The hand that had been so willing to caress her before, rocketed forward in a hard blow. Crimson spread across the abused skin. Hunter could do nothing but spit the blood from the inside of her moth. She had bitten her cheek at the impact. Jordan jumped up from the bed, and stormed towards the windows. She opened the tall French door and walked out onto the balcony. Hunter was left alone, trying to make sense of it all.

**********

The room was cold and dark. The wooden floor was bare. There was no furniture and the only window was boarded shut. Tiny slivers of light penetrated here and there. One such beam touched the trembling body of the woman curled on the floor. Her body spasmed as the drugs worked their way through her system bringing her to wakefulness. She laid on her belly, her hands tied behind her back. Already purple bruises had begun to form on her arms and neck where she had been vicious man handled.

Her blue eyes finally fluttered open. Tears began to cascade down her cheeks as she realised that she wouldn't get out of here alive.

**********

Why doesn't she understand?

I thought she'd been brainwashed.

I'll have to deprogramme her.

What if she isn't under their control?

She is.

But if she's not?

She loves me.

Didn't look that way at the lake.

Shut up.

Looked like she'd found someone new.

Shut up!

You don't understand.

Tell me.

We were made for each other, we've always been together.

Always?

And forever.

You know, you make a lot of sense.

She should understand.

She will.

Go to her. Tell her.

What about the bitch?

You'll just have to take her out of the equation.

Jordan straightened up from the rail on the balcony, taking in a deep lungful of the fresh air. She allowed the sun to beat down on her face for w few moments while she smoothed out her blouse. Running a hand through her hair, fluffing it gently in the breeze. She turned and walked back into the room.

For the second time she sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at the woman who had filled her dreams for so many years. Hunter wouldn't look at her, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the opposite wall. Jordan could see the imprint of her hand still lingering on the tanned flesh of her cheek. She leaned forward and placed a soothing kiss in its centre.

"Don't touch me." It was a growl.

"You don't mean that, Rhani. I know you still love me." She reached out and forced the prostrate woman to face her. Her grip was firm, almost painful on Hunters jaw.

"How can I love you after what you've done?" She narrowed her eyes. "You killed Douglas." It was a statement not a question.

"Yes. I got close to him before I started all this. We were having an affaire. He would tell me things, pillow talk. It was useful stuff. I never meant to kill him, not until you showed up."

"Me." She couldn't quite grasp how this woman's mind worked.

"I needed to move things along. I killed him so that the bitch would go to prison for murder. Don't you see? She would be under other people's control, locked up and abused. Just like you." Her thumb began to make lazy patterns on the soft skin.

"Jordan, you need to listen to me, alright." An absent nod was her only response. "The Prince's didn't know what my parents did. My parents told them that I died. Francesca was crushed for a really long time. I swear. Thank you for thinking about me, but this is wrong." She paused for just a moment. "Why didn't you go after my mother and father?"

"I looked for them. They died in an auto accident when you were fifteen. God had already punished them. He told me I have to complete the task. All for you. You don't see it yet. I've seen what they've done to you. They are using mind control, drug therapy to make you believe them. Once you purge them out of your body you'll see the truth."

"Jordan, let me go! I can't love you anymore. I love Francesca. You need help." The moment the words were out of her mouth she knew that she had made a mistake.

"Don't you ever call me crazy again!" Another blow hit the side of her face, this time making her see stars.

Jordan moved over to a large cabinet, reaching inside she withdrew something darkly metallic. Hunter instantly stiffened. In her hand the tall blond held a gun. She turned back to her prisoner, gun raised aiming at her chest.

"You need to be purged. Its the only way to set you free from their power." The shot rang through the room, penetrating into the bowels of the house, drawing a whimper from a cold dark room. Jordan sat beside her beloved. "I love you. It'll be alright." She cooed as she stroked blond hair off her forehead.

Hunter felt the bullet rip through her shoulder, sending lances of fire through her arm and chest. In her weakened state her body began to quickly go into shock, tremors running through her. Blackness began to creep into the edges of her mind. All the while the soothing voice was there, chasing her into unconsciousness.

**********

To Francesca, it seemed like hours had passed since she had heard the sound of a single gunshot. She knew that Hunter was dead. The maniac had killed her. I just found her. She had been crying ever since, heart wrenching sobs had slowly turned into forlorn sniffles. She had managed to get into a sitting position and had shuffled into a corner. She drew her knees up to her chest and buried her face in them. Her hands were still painfully trapped behind her back.

She was lost, so deep in her own sorrow that she failed to hear the footsteps approaching from outside. As Jordan got closer to the barred door she finished fastening the last button on her overalls. She didn't want to get any blood on her good clothes, she had to stay nice for Rhani. She unlocked the large padlock and opened the heavy door. Light from the hallway flooded the darkness.

The door opened frightening Francesca further out of her wits. She scrunched her body into an even tinier ball. The light was blinding after the almost pitch darkness and her eyes could not seem to adjust. Suddenly hands grabbed her shoulders and dragged her into the middle of her room. She struggled, but was too weak to hurt her captor. Soon she was laying on her back with her arms trapped painfully under her.

The tall figure loomed over her. She could not make out any details, only being able to make out a darker figure in the dark room. Then blows were raining down on her already abused body. First a punched her face and arms while heavy boots kicked at her exposed stomach and groin. In desperation, Francesca turned onto her side, desperately trying to shield herself. Before she could raise up her knees and solid kick landed on her stomach. She tasted blood in her mouth.

"She's mine." A growl.

A kick to the head and the world went black.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR



It had taken almost two days to find her. It might have taken longer had Salvatore not had the foresight to buy his daughter a tracker. Francesca kept it with her at all times, tucked inside her bra. When the heiress had been reported missing the head of the Prince dynasty had alerted the police to the presence of the tracker. Not being police issue it was a wide-band tracker. It only provided the basic area, not the exact location.

This created a large scale search of the forest area where the transmission originated from. Police teams visited each and every single cabin in the woods, scouring them from top to bottom and questioning the owners. They used maps to find the properties, but would have missed the one they were looking for if not for one thing. The cabin burst into flames on the morning of the second day. Huge plumes of smoke billowed into the air. The fire services were deployed with the cops on their tail. The cabin had not been on any map of the area, and would have been impossible to find otherwise.

When the emergency services arrived the top level of the two story building was collapsing into itself. The firemen couldn't go in to the unstable structure. they worked frantically to put it out, all hands at their pumps. The police fanned out around the site looking for any signs of the kidnapper. Deep in the woods one young sergeant found deep tyre tracks. Forensics were soon on their way as the building continued to fall around them.

Hours later, the fire was out. The top level of the building had been totally destroyed but the ground floor had barely been touched. The police swarmed into the secured building, fanning out along the corridor. With flashlights held high they began to enter the pitch dark rooms. Smoke hung heavy in the air and water dripped down the walls, creating small puddles on the floor.

"In here. Hurry!" One officer stood in an open doorway, his flashlight focused on a dark lump in the rooms centre.

Several other officers responded to his call, moving into the room. They tested the integrity of the room, ensuring that it would not collapse around them. The paramedics were called in from outside, rushing to the side of the fallen woman. Time was of the essence as they loaded her onto the stretcher. Soon she was on her way to hospital, leaving behind a small pool of blood on the floor.

**********

Salvatore sat vigil beside his daughter. The doctors had told him that although she had been badly beaten and suffered a concussion and some bleeding, she was out of danger. They now just had to wait for her to come round. Her left arm was in a cast and she had a catheter, the bruising in her abdomen causing so much internal swelling that her bladder was slightly damaged.

The old man smoothed a lock of hair away from her forehead, wincing as he took in the sight of her swollen face. Butterfly stitched held together a cut on her cheek and her lip. Her skin was hot and clammy to the touch, the angry bruises creating their own energy source. He closed his eyes and settled in for the night, knowing that Darla would relieve him in the morning.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Francesca was afraid. Above her she could hear the sound of glass breaking, but she couldn't move. She could smell smoke but she couldn't see the flames. Al around her was darkness, above and below. She was laying on air. Her body was numb. She was sure that tears were running down her cheeks but she couldn't feel them.

"Rhani, help me."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Salvatore woke when he heard the whimpering coming form the bed. Francesca was thrashing in her sleep, small moans and cries escaping her lips. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Sal tried to calm her down, he took hold of her shoulder gently. He felt her body shudder in pain, and then she was still. He couldn't believe it, she had sunk back down into unconsciousness.

"Don't worry Princess, papa's here. Papa's here."

Sal and Darla continued to take it in turns to watch over their youngest child as the days turned into a week. When they were not in the hospital room, they were looking after the children. Nathaniel and Rodrigo also took turns sitting with their sister. They would visit together, trading off of each other. They would bicker and reminisce about their childhood in the vain hope that it would bring their sister back to them.

After her reaction with Salvatore on the second day she had made no move towards waking up. Even the children had not elicited a response from her. Her body was recovering remarkably quickly, the bruises already fading to a sickly yellow. The butterfly stitches had been removed, leaving her looking much more human. The swelling in her abdomen persisted.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

She was walking down a narrow corridor. Candles held in sconces on the wall lit her way. She didn't know where she was, but she knew that she had to keep moving, keep following the lights. The hallway stopped abruptly, a door blocking her path.

She reached for the brass handle, ready to pull it open onto the unknown. Before she could touch the handle she drew her hand away. The metal was hot. Suddenly she could feel heat radiating from the wood, just before it burst open. It splintered into a thousand flaming peaces. Francesca shielded her face with her bare arms, but the wood didn't touch her.

This can't be real.

She walked into the room, unable to stop the motion of her feet. In front of her stood a little blond girl, no more than nine years old. Sad green eyes looked up at her from a bruised face. The innocence that should have been there was nowhere to be see, just a hollow well of sadness.

"Hello Chess."

This isn't possible.

Suddenly the child began to grow before her eyes. Limbs grew longer, filling with muscle. Skin became stained with the inc of tattoos. Scars danced their way over flawless skin. Deep green eyes replaced by laser efficient blue. Flames grew up around her, licking at her skin. Consuming her.

This is a dream.

Arms formed in the flames, wrapping around her torso, caressing her like a lover. They whispered like voices, to low for her to hear. She moved forward, determined to get closer to her lover.

"She's mine."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Francesca sat bolt upright in the sterile hospital room. Pain shot through her back and neck at the sudden motion. Tears were wet on her cheeks and her breathing came in ragged gasps. Darla was by her side in seconds, wrapping her arms around her sobbing daughter. She thanked God over and over for letting her baby come back to her.

Darla reached over and press the nurses call button. Soon Francesca's doctor and a team of nurses were in the room, clustered around her baby. She didn't want to leave the room, but she knew it was for the best. She made her way into the corridor and headed for the nearest payphone.

"Hello, Prince residence." Sal sounded so tired.

"Honey, she woke up." She couldn't contain her tears. "Come quickly and bring the children, I know she'll want to see them."

"We'll be there in ten. Now go kiss our Princess and tell her we're on our way." They hung up at the same time. Salvatore rushed to get the children into coats and shoes while his wife went back to their daughter.

Now they just had to find Hunter. Then everything would be okay.

**********

The next day the children sat with their mother while their grandparents went for some cafeteria lunch. The children were so pleased that their mom was alright that they didn't want to leave her side. All three of them were snuggled up to her. She stroked Terrance's hair where he sat next to her, using their closeness to keep herself sane.

"Mama, where's Hunter?" Becca's voice was so sad, it alone brought tears to her eyes.

"I don't know, sweetheart. Everything is being done to find her. They will find her. They have to." The last part was whispered. Becca nodded tearfully, hiding her face in her knees. She loved the warrior very much.

Francesca was sick with worry over the blond bodyguard. She knew that she was alive, no bodies had been found in the cabin, save her own. She had to believe that Rhani was alive, she couldn't take loosing her all over again, it had been hard enough the first time. This time she had so much more to loose. This time she could fight to get her back, and she would. She wouldn't stop until Hunter was back by her side, where she belonged.

I will find you.

Come back to me.

**********

She laid there in agony, her shoulder throbbing softly. The countless other welts on her body creating a background hum of pain. The straps on her wrists and ankles chafed. She stared at the ceiling, trying to distance herself from this room. From this bed. A long slender arm stretched over her chest, pinning her more firmly to the bed. The soft breathing of the woman next to her feathered over her breasts. She could feel the soft rise and fall of her naked chest as it brushed against her side as Jordan laid curled around her.

Francesca, I'm sorry.




CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE



"I'm sorry, Mr Prince, but we've come to a wall. There was no sign of them at the cabin. What tire marks we did find trailed into nothing. Whoever is behind this thinks like we do. If I didn't know better I'd say it was a cop." The reedy police officer was clearly perturbed.

The two men stood huddled in the hospital corridor, heads bowed towards each other. Salvatore had been intercepting all police information before it got to Francesca. He didn't want his daughter to be further upset, he could cushion the blow far better than any cop could. Every day the news was the same. No information. No evidence. No clues. No leads. It was taking its toll on his youngest child, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"Just keep trying. I better go and break it to her." A familiar black cloud descended behind his eyes.

They turned from each other, the blue clad man striding purposefully down the hall while the tycoon made his way, dejectedly, to his child's side. He stood outside the grey door trying to compose himself, it wouldn't be right to walk in there with the bad news written so clearly on his face. Each day Francesca would look at him expectantly, just waiting for the news that Hunter was there, and each day she would be disappointed. He knew that it was crushing her, but he could do nothing but tell her the truth and hold her together as she crumbled.

Salvatore walked through the dull grey door and was greeted by the sight of his daughter laughing. It warmed his heart to know that she had not lost all of her joy. The children seemed to be acting as a balm to her battered soul. Darla noticed her husband enter the door before any of the other occupants of the room, catching his eye she instantly knew tat there was no news. She reached across the bed to grasp her daughters hand, letting her know that her father had arrived.

Salvatore approached his youngest child, bending down to place a soft kiss on her uninjured cheek. Her beautiful face was still bruised, the deep blue colour fading to a sickly yellow after almost two weeks of convalescence. Most of her injuries were healing quickly, she had been lucky, the effects of the beating could have been much worse. After several blood transfusions and rest she was almost ready to be sent home. Bruising and a cast were the only evidence of recent events.

"Any news Papa?" It was always the first thing out of her mouth. She would look at him with her wide blue eyes, so hopeful.

"Not today, Princess. But I do know something that she brighten your day." He saw her expression waver. "You can come home today. Maybe this is just the tip of a good news ice burg." He knew the joke was a poor one, but he was rewarded with a watery smile from his daughter. She was thankful for her fathers efforts.

Darla gathered the three children together and ushered them from the room, intent on giving her husband some time alone with their child. Terrance and Rochel ran ahead of their grandmother, their excitement over the mothers impending release and the unspoken promise of ice cream a potent combination. Becca held on tightly to Darla's hand, her little face sombre and her feet dragging. Feeling the child's distress Darla crouched down and scooped the six year old into her arms.

"What's the matter Rebecca? Aren't you happy that mummy is coming home?" She peered into sad brown eyes.

"I love mummy, Nana. You know that." Said with the indignation that only a child can use.

"Then what's the matter?" Becca had always been the most subdued of her daughters children, reminding the older woman of Francesca after Rhani had been taken. She honestly wanted the child to be happy.

"I just want Hunter to come home too. She makes mummy laugh and she plays with me." Her voice went down to a whisper. "I wish Hunter was our daddy."

"They'll find her. Now go catch up with the others before they eat all the ice cream." Telling her grandmother her worries seemed to have perked Becca out of her funk. She bounded out of Darla's arms and down the corridor. The older woman was left shaking her head in bemusement. I think Francesca is going to have to have a little talk with her children about the difference between mommies and daddies, a wry chuckle passed her lips as she followed her grandchildren at a more sedate pace.

**********

Large hands fluffed the pillow behind her head for the tenth time in what felt like as many minutes. Francesca was overwhelmed by the support that her brothers were showing her but she could only take so much. Straightening herself on the couch she turned to the two men seated in the arm chairs beside her.

"Boys, you can relax. I'm not going to break, I actually feel fine except for my arm." At the raised eyebrows from both men she realised that it wasn't entirely true. "I miss Hunter. But bugging me isn't helping."

"We only want to help you Francesca, just tell us how." Rodrigo's usually jovial face was anything but. He had a caring side that few but Francesca and Darla saw. Francesca felt tears start to well up in her eyes.

"Tell us about Hunter." Nathaniel was gruffer, more uncertain than his younger siblings, but he too wanted to be useful.

"I can't...I...She's in so much danger." The tears began to cascade down her face, choking sobs stealing her breath. She felt gentle arms wrap around her, her head rested on a broad shoulder. Beside her Nathaniel held his baby sister in his arms, while in front of her Rodrigo took her slender hands in his.

"You don't have to talk about the kidnapping Princess, don't cry." He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles soothingly.

"You know about us?" Francesca's tears gradually stopped as she looked shyly through her lashes.

"I'm not blind." Rodrigo smiled.

"And I'm not stupid. So together we worked it out." Her older brothers usual dry delivery made her smile, just a little.

"We're in love...um..." She felt suddenly giddy as she said those precious words. A blush covered her face.

The two older men shared a smile. Maybe they weren't very good nurse maids, but they were pretty good brothers. Pretty nosey too. At least this should take her mind off the horrific events of the last few weeks and hopefully remind her of happier times.

**********

"Wake up baby." It was a faint whisper, dreamlike.

In her dream she was floating on a cottony soft cloud. Only the cloud was wrapped all around her like a cocoon, not simply underneath her. It seemed to be getting tighter and tighter, seeping through her skin. Invading her brain.

"Wake up!" The voice seemed to be getting closer. Was it Chess? Was this cloud nine?

"Wake up, damn it!" The voice was loud and angry. Hunter knew that sort of voice, that sort of command. She tried to comply, but her body would not cooperate. The cottony cloud in her brain made her too confused.

Sudden white hot pain lanced through her shoulder. A scream was ripped from her throat as she sudden hit consciousness head on. Electric eyes blinked open, trying to hold back the stinging tears that the pain created. If she could she would have rocketed upright, gasping for air. Restrained as she was she had to made do with dragging in painful breaths from her reclined position.

"There you are. I thought you'd never wake up." Jordan trailed gentle fingers over Hunters burning cheeks. "Sorry I had to do that, but I couldn't let you sleep the day away, now could I?" She smiled beatifically down at the younger woman before planting a rough kiss on her lips.

Hunter didn't bother to struggle, she had at the beginning, but after weeks or torture and violence she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. Francesca had died in the fire, she had nothing to fight for. She waited for the kiss to end, which seemingly took an eternity, the thrusting tongue in her mouth making her want to gag. Then it was over and she was left alone for a few blissful moments of clarity. It wouldn't last long, her head was only clear in her first waking moments, as soon as Jordan returned she would be rendered helpless.

Hunter began to feel all of the sensations that constantly coursed through her body. The one that screamed for attention was her right shoulder. The gunshot wound still occasionally seeped blood, the area around it was red and swollen. Infection had started to set in, and the fact that Jordan would use it as another way to control her kept it open. She craned her head as best she could to get a glimpse of it, and was dismayed to see a yellowish ooze leaking out of it. The infection was getting worse. Her body temperature was too high, a fever having taken residence in her body over the last few days.

She heard Jordan's footsteps approaching the door to the room that they shared. The apartment was small, but beautifully decorated. In her more coherent moments Hunter wondered how the other woman could afford to rent it without a job. Such contemplation was rare. As the door began to open, the warrior sent up a silent prayer to the woman that she loved. She hoped beyond hope that the spirit of the other woman heard her thoughts.

Jordan sat down on the edge of the bed and gazed adoringly down at the other woman. She knew that Hunter didn't remember that they were in love yet, the mind control was still too strong but she was working on that. Each day she added new chemicals into the other woman's body, it was just a matter of time before she found the antidote to the mind altering chemicals that the Prince's had pumped into her.

"Time for you medicine baby." She swabbed an area on the other woman's arm, just below the elbow. Expertly she injected the contents of the syringe into a vein.

Almost instantly Hunter felt herself slipping away. All day she would walk as though through a fog. Jordan was in total control of her body after the injections, she became nothing but an automaton. Even had she been mentally unencumbered, her body was too weak to attempt an escape. Jordan quickly unlocked the restraints from her wrists and ankles, freeing the other woman. She ushered her into the bathroom gently, with great care.

Hours passed, with the woman going through the motions of a domestic couple. Jordan would direct Hunter and she would obey simple instructions through her haze. As the day progressed Jordan injected further dose of medication into her lovers body. However as night grew closer the final injection began to wear off, once again freeing Hunter from the fog. Jordan was no fool, already having tied the other woman down on the large, soft bed.

Hunter knew what was coming, she had been ordered to strip naked while still compliant and now laid spread eagled and bound. They had played out this scenario several times. She now watched, her head propped up on pillows, as the lithe blond stripped out of her own clothes. Slowly, Jordan climbed onto the bed, crawling her way up her captives body. She felt the burning heat coming off the gladiator in waves, but cast any thoughts of fever aside. Hunter was in the heat of passion. She lowered her head to the other woman's breast, taking a nipple into her moth. As she began to suckle she heard a whimper. She smiled around the flesh and began to caress it with her tongue, until she hear the words.

"Help me Chess." It was a whispered sob, barely loud enough to hear, but Jordan did.

The tall blond bit down harshly on the nipple, tasting blood on her tongue as her teeth sliced through flesh. She pulled away from the body below her, climbing to her feet. She took in the sight of her ravaged breast, the nipple almost severed. Her anger kept on building, even as she took the medical supplies out of a drawer and crudely reattached the flesh.

"She still has power over you." A hard slap landed on her face, followed by several punches to her mid-section and wounded shoulder. "I will purge you, I promise. You will be free of that witch." The irate woman threw clothes on quickly before returning to the bed with a syringe. As soon as it emptied into the other woman's neck she was unconscious. She then left the room, slamming the door hard behind her.

**********

The phone was taken from her hand by gentle fingers and placed carefully in its cradle. Francesca stood staring at it, like a creature of myth which had just jumped out at her. All around her he house was buzzing, the police having traced the crazed and threatening call. Yet she felt frozen, had she just heard what she thought she had or was she dreaming again?

"Princess, are you alright?" Darla was worried by her daughters lack of reaction to her kidnappers call.

"Mama, was that real?" Her blue eyes were pleading as they turned to the older woman.

"Yes, it was real. The police are on their way to the house it came from now. they should be there in twenty minutes."

"Rhani's coming home." Francesca was almost giddy with joy. "I never thought that I would be so happy to be sworn at, abused and threatened with death in my life."

"This is good news, Francesca, but don't get your hopes too high. You could be disappointed. I mean, I could hear what that lunatic was screaming. This is a delicate time." She could see that her daughter was not to be deflated. Lets join your father in the study, the police told him they would keep him informed."



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX


Once again Francesca was left crushed by the news from the police. She had been hysterical after their call and needed to be sedated and taken to bed. Salvatore and Darla were worried sick about their daughter, she couldn't take much more disappointment. The older couple had been present when the detective had arrived at the mansion over two hours later. They had known that the news couldn't be good. There should have been a call. As soon as they heard the knock on the door a cloud of foreboding had descended on them...

...The door opened to reveal the stoney face of one of the case detectives. Salvatore simply stood back and allowed the other man to walk through the door. He closed the door and walked towards his study without looking back. He knew that the other man would follow. As they walked into the study, he saw his daughters face drop. He moved to sit beside his wife and daughter, leaving the detective the seat behind the desk.

"Its bad news I'm afraid. We found the apartment building but they were already long gone. I don't know how she does it. There were a few more traces this time, daily use items left in the cupboards, but as yet the only prints we've found are the slaves." He continued to look at his notes. He never noticed the venom directed at him by the young heiress.

"I understand that you want her caught Mr Prince, but you shouldn't be too concerned about the slave. We found a fairly large amount of blood on the bed as well as some signs of infection. It doesn't look good for her." A low keening began to come from the young brunette. The detective looked up from his notes and saw the murderous rage in the singers eyes.

"How dare you! She is not just a slave! She will not die! She can't!" Her voice was getting louder and louder as tears streamed down her face. As she spoke she rose from her seat, only to fall to the floor in a heap, sobbing uncontrollably.

Salvatore glanced at the detective, making it clear that he was to stay where he was. He knelt down and scooped his shuddering child into his arms and carried her out of the room and up the stairs. As he was taking her to bed, Darla called up a medic to come and sedate her child.

Half an hour later, with Francesca passed out, her parents sat opposite the police officer. They were ready to hear everything. The detective told them everything that the police had found. the only thing that even remotely resembled a clue had been the word 'box' that had been crudely written onto the pillow in blood. It had taken the cops on the scene a while to decipher what the word actually said, if it was a word at all.

"So, you see, we really have nothing more to go on now than we did to start with. If you can tell your daughter what we found when she wakes up, maybe she can tell us something." When the young man left they were both in a state of shock...

**********

Darla convinced Salvatore to hold back the information for a few days to allow Francesca a chance to calm down and come to terms with the new information. She seemed to be coping considerably better than they could have hoped. Francesca had been the one to explain what had happened to the children. Terrance had taken it in stride, being the strong little man he thought he should be. Rochel was upset, but her tears had been the short lived tears of a confused child. Becca on the other hand was almost as devastated as her mother. Francesca had cradled her in her arms and rocked her until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

When she thought that Francesca had had enough time to remain calm, Darla gave her the police information that they had received. She left the younger woman alone to read, if their places were reversed she would want to be alone to read about Sal. Francesca was left in her room, sitting on Hunter's side of the bed as she spread the paper around her. The first thing to catch her eye were the photographs of the apartment. It was small, yet stylish. It had not been destroyed in any way. It looked clean and comfortable. She riffled through the pictures of each room until she came to the bedroom.

The room was large, dominated by an equally large double bed. What made her heart start to beat faster was what was on the bed. The binds on the bed were obviously used to tie the warrior down, imprisoning her. Tears began to leak from her eyes as she got to the photo of the bed itself. The sheets were stained with Rhani's blood and some yellowing stains that looked like some sort of infection.

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to regain her composure as she shuffled to the last photo. When she opened them again what she saw hit her like a blow. It was a word, written in blood. To other people it would have been almost unreadable, childlike scribbling. But Francesca it was easy to read, Rhani had always written like a blind spider crawling over the page. She read the single word over and over, trying to understand what it meant. It was obviously a message for her.

'Box', what sort of box?

Is there something in a box in the apartment? That couldn't be it, the police would have found something.

Maybe I have something that can help. But what?

She lay back on her bed, the rest of the information in the brown folder forgotten as she tried to imagine what her beloved was trying to tell her. As she allowed her eyes to roam around the room she noticed something metallic sitting behind her mirror on the dressing table. She got to her feet fast and looked at the thing that was tucked almost completely behind her free standing mirror.

She reached out and picked up the small metal box. She found herself looking down at the remote to Hunter's voice inhibitor. The device that could, by remote activate the chip inside Rhani's body. The 'box' that could be used to find the young woman. Francesca put all this together in a matter of moments, suddenly letting out a whoop of excitement.

She threw open the door to her room and ran at breakneck speed down the stars and into the kitchen where her parents were having afternoon tea. One of their idiosyncrasies. Darla would make cakes and Salvatore would sit and watch her while drinking his tea. As she pounded into the room both parents stopped talking and turning to face their panting, but grinning, child.

"Princess?" Salvatore wasn't sure what to make of this. He hoped that his daughter hadn't snapped.

"I know how to find her Papa. Her message was for me." She was almost bouncing with excitement. "I have the remote to the thing that stops her talking. It can send from almost any distance. The police can use it to track her to her location." She threw herself at her mother, hugging her tightly.

"Sal, go get the police." Darla kissed her daughters temple as Salvatore sis as he was asked. "Baby, how did you get so smart?"

"Good genes." Both women giggled as weeks of tension began to melt with the renewal of hope.

**********

The new information proved to be invaluable to the police. It took a few more days to calibrate their sensors so that they could use the transmitters in the control as a tracking device, but it would work. They didn't want to alert the kidnapper to what they were doing, ensuring that they only activated the voice restraints at night when they were sure that she would not be required to speak.

When they finally had the machines at the right frequency they began to send out short bursts over the course of one night in order to triangulate a position. Not as exact a guide as an actual tracking device, it created a small grid that could be searched. Within a week, the covert ops team had found the two most likely locations. Both cabins were situated in the same dense forest in the mountains 200 miles west of their previous location. They would need to watch both cabins to find out which was the kidnappers cabin.

A week later the break through came. The owners of the smaller cabin came to stay, revealing that the movement which had been happening inside the log structure had been a computer controlled system. the young man and woman were more than willing to comply with the police when asked to go home again, especially after they noticed the large guns the police carried. The waiting game now began in earnest, they needed to see who they were dealing with, so they would wait.

Francesca and the remaining bodyguards offered their assistance to the police but found themselves rebuked at every attempt. Both Shep and Francesca couldn't help but worry as the time stretched on. Every day was another day where Rhani could be killed. They needed to do something soon. Francesca could feel time running out.




CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN


A large fist slammed into the stone bench. The sound of flesh impacting the cool marble echoed around the garden. Shep winced in pain, refusing to make a sound, to appear weak. Blood began to pulse from his knuckles in lazy spurts as he fell onto the garden seat. He sat, silently staring at nothing for what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, as time spun out before him.

Caught up in his own private hell, the former gladiator was almost oblivious to his surroundings. He heard a feint sound to his right but ignored it, there was no danger left here. It had already come and gone, ripping out their hearts as it passed. As he continued to drift in a haze of despair and self-loathing, he felt a pair of smaller hands enfold his own. Broken form his revelry he found himself gazing into the worried eyes of the woman he loves. Knelt at his feet was Megan, running soothing fingers over his knuckles.

"Mathew, you can't keep doing this, baby." Megan cooed. Seeing her mate working himself into a tighter and tighter ball of pain each day was beginning to take its toll on both of them. She looked deep into his dark eyes and saw that the spark that had lived in them was gone. "None of this was your fault! Damn it, Hunter's a hell of a lot more capable of taking care of herself than either you or I. That's why she protected Francesca." The hands in hers suddenly tightened painfully.

"She is not dead!" It came out as a growl. "Don't say that!"

"Mat, let go of me." His hands instantly released hers, but neither moved away. Megan began to shake feeling back into her fingers. "I never said any such thing!" They were shouting at each other now, the voices of warriors splitting the gardens tranquillity asunder.

"You said she protected Francesca...Like she's gone, forever. She's not... We'll get her back." All of the fight suddenly left the big man, leaving him empty and vulnerable. Megan moved onto the bench beside him, cradling his head on her shoulder. As she began to sooth him with soft words and even softer touches, the dam on his emotions broke. He cried, not only for the woman that he called sister in his heart, but also for the gentle twins and the family that he never really knew.

**********

"Well, as sorry as I am that Hunter's probably dead at least we're getting more free time, 'cause of the cops." Savage grinned widely just before stuffing a hand full of peanuts into his mouth.

"You really are all heart aren't you? You better not let Shep hear you talking like that, the way he's feeling he'll rip your head off." The usually quiet man looked at his companion, Savage was too dark to ever be called a friend, and shook his head.

The four remaining slaves had found themselves at rather loose ends since the kidnapping. Police filled the house and grounds at all hours of the day and night. Their presence was even greater than it had been in the wake of Douglas' murder. The likelihood that the stalker would return were slim at best, she seemed to have totally lost interest in Francesca. The proliferation of blue uniformed men and women meant that the Prince family were protected within the walls of the estate, making the bodyguards defunct until they ventured into the world at large. Leisure time was something new to the group and each was dealing with it in their own unique ways.

Savage was taking this new lifestyle in stride, enjoying himself a little too much, in Snake's opinion. The idea of 'eat drink and be merry' seemed to have become his new philosophy. The kidnapping hadn't seemed to affect the callous man at all. In fact he had been hit harder by the death of their master. They had much in common, pondered the thin man. Wolf was falling apart, filled with guilt over Hunter and Meg was using all her time to try and pull him back together. He felt for the couple, they had been through so much. As close as he was to their formidable leader, he could not imagine the depth of pain that the big gladiator was feeling over her absence. What about me? He pondered for a moment. He was sad, yet couldn't help but revel in the freedom. It was intoxicating but he would never take advantage of this situation, or any other. It was not his way.

His introspection was broken by the sound of raised voices echoing around the gardens. Since the incident, the grounds had been soundless, the children didn't play, even the birds didn't seem to sing. A foolish notion, Snake knew, but it seemed to be true. The shouts were angry, raising as the minutes passed. He knew the voices, how could he not? He had heard those same voices every day for years, but rarely had he heard them fight.

"I love the sounds of warriors in the morning." The snickered words, coming from his side made his eyes narrow menacingly at Savage. "Hey, kidding! God, you people really need to loosen up."

"This is hardly the time for 'lightening up'. Now if you don't have anything constructive, or even pleasant, to say I suggest you shut your bloody mouth and help me find those two." The growled words, from such an unexpected source, shocked the smaller man into silence. He followed the tall, bald man in relative silence, broken by the occasional crunch of a nut.

**********

Quiet. Everything was so quiet. The children played, but it was subdued. Her parents spoke in whispers. Her brothers kept their distance, comforting as best they could. Everything had changed since Hunter went away.

Francesca walked the estate like a dark spectre. She would wonder the halls at the dead of night, unable to sleep alone. It was ironic, all the years she had been married to Douglas she had been relieved to sleep alone. But now, after only a few short weeks of sleeping next to the gladiator, sleep was almost impossible. She had found passages that she hadn't walked down in years and the newly rebuilt wing was fascinating to her sleep fogged mind.

During the day she would walk through the gardens, reliving memories of the woman she loved. Memories of recent months and of a long ago childhood. She was alone, seldom seeking the company of others, spending the barest amount of time with her precious children. She simply couldn't face them. She never returned to 'their' place. The clearing held too many mixed emotions for her to take right now, ahe'd only go back with Rhani, or not at all.

Today was like any other. She trudged from one well manicured path to another, passing perfect lawn after perfect lawn. Topiary shrubs and flower beds lost their beauty after the hundredth time you walk past them. She wasn't looking at the gardens, though, hadn't on any of her walks. She looked straight ahead, seeing the gardens as they had been in her childhood. Watching herself and another play hide and seek, or tag, ruining the grass and being chased by the crotchety old gardener. A smile came unbidden to her face as she saw, in her minds eye, one such day.


Screams of childish glee floated up to the terrace. Two bored looking teenage boys cast a quick, cursory glance in the direction of the two little girls running around on the grass, before going back to their own pursuits. Nineteen year old Nathaniel went back to his mountains of mind-numbing college work while his little brother concentrated on his tan. Down below the seven year olds clearly had a far better idea about how to spend a sunny Saturday afternoon.

Water balloons sailed through the air, drenching the taller of the two combatants. Water poured down her face, a lock of hair plastered to her forehead. She began to blow upwards, trying to dislodge it, scrunching her face up like a clown. Still holding her own projectiles in hand she pulled her arm back and launched it at the hysterically laughing brunette. Francesca was so busy laughing that she never saw the balloon coming. It hit the pudgy child square in the face.

"I'll get you for that, Rhani!" She playfully threatened.

"You gotta catch me first, Chess." Still in possession of a bright red balloon, she blew a raspberry at her soaked friend and broke into a sprint across the pristine lawn.

Francesca was hot on her heels almost at once. As they ran, laughed and screamed (as children often do) they also cut divots out of the glass smooth surface of the turf.


As thoughts of Randy, the frail old gardener of their childhood, chasing them off the grass flooded her mind, she heard the sound of shouting. It was too far away for her to make out the words but the anger was clear. She could vaguely make out two separate voices, one male, the other female. Her interest peaked for the first time in weeks, she headed towards the sound of voices.

**********

Snake and Savage came onto the scene as Meg began to rock the quietly sobbing man in her arms. Even with their tracking skills, it had taken the pair a while to find the lovers due to the maze-like natured of this part of the garden. Before Savage could make a cruel comment about the situation, his taller partner elbowed him sharply in the rips, forestalling the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

Meg looked up sharply at the rushed exhalation of breath, locking eyes first with one man and then the other. Exchanging, wordlessly, thanks for their silence. In her arms Shep began to regain his composure, drawing in deep breaths. He pulled away from the woman who should have been his wife and surveyed the other men. Savage wore his usual sneer, but Snake looked embarrassed at seeing this powerful warrior in such a state of weakness.

"We need to get her back." The statement was softly spoken, but may as well been shouted for the command that it possessed.

"And how exactly do you suggest we do that? ESP?"

"Thanks for your support, Sav. Nice to know some things can be counted on in this world." A brief smile graced the red haired woman's face.

"We need to go in and take her." The words were growled.

"If that were possible, do you really think the police would be toying with her life like this?" Snake was truly incredulous.

"Why not? They aren't trying to rescue Hunter, they're trying to catch Francesca's kidnapper." Almost before the words had finished leaving his lips, a dark haired form rushed through the hedge.

Francesca stood before them, her blue eyes wide and her breathing short and ragged, as though she had run a long distance swiftly. However, her skin was free from sweat and her clothes remained immaculate. This was a woman in a state of panic, not exertion.

"That can't be true!" Francesca's voice cracked on the words.

"I'm sorry, but why else do you think they've waited?" Wolf looked into eyes that shared his sorrow. "Every day that they wait her out, that nut could kill Hunter." The words seemed to cut the tall woman's strings, she suddenly collapsed onto the hard bench, shoulders shaking.

"I can't loose her again." Forcefully wiping the tears from her eyes, she turned to face the four bodyguards. "If we knew where she was, could we do something to get her out?"

With raised eyebrows Meg mouthed 'we?', Snake simply shrugged his shoulders. The small group focused their attention on Shep, waiting for his response. His rugged face was pensive, as he mulled over what Francesca had just said. If they knew the location of Hunter and her captor, they could go in and get her. Their years of training in all aspects of conflict made them much more adept at this than the police.

"Yes, we could. We'll get her out. One woman against the four of us shouldn't cause too much trouble. The real danger is what she could do to Hunter when we try this. I'll give this some thought while you go and sweet talk the police." He tentatively rested his hand on her shoulder, relieved when rather than pull away she reached up to cover it with her own. "You sit tight...um...Mistr..."

"Don't." It was soft, a request not an order. "Call me Francesca."

"We'll bring her home to you Francesca." It was nice to view this woman as more than the embodiment of their servitude.

"I'm coming with you, when you go. You can't leave me behind, I have to be there when you get her out." She squeezed the hand she still grasped. "Please, I promise not to get in the way, I won't put the mission in danger."

"Can't really stop you, can we?"

**********

Thirteen...Fourteen...Fifteen. Fifteen goldfish swam in the spacious tank in front of her. Back and forth they went, blissfully oblivious to the world around them. Serene and tranquil. Weren't there sixteen yesterday? Or was that last week? The thoughts swam around her head like the fish in the tank, making her already weak body feel increasingly dizzy.

Over the days that they had been holed up in the cabin, Hunter had surrendered herself completely to the other woman. The accumulation of drugs in her system, and the legacy of many beatings gave her little choice. As soon as Jordan saw that Hunter was willingly complying to her wishes, responding when they made love and talking about old times, she stopped the drugs. The irrational woman was satisfied that the last of the Prince 'brainwashing' had been purged.

Of course, when the gladiator didn't make the right noises she was still punished. The last residues of her affection for Francesca were being beaten out of her skin. Hunter had always prided herself on being strong, stoic. She had never cried at the hands of the Arena's trainers, even when they came close to filleting her skin from the bone. Yet she had wept many tears since she had been in this cheery place. Not tears of pain, but tears of sorrow over the woman who was so full of light, that was now boiling over the edge.

Dragging her attention away from the fish, mesmerising as they were. Pretty, the childish thought popped into her head. She started to laugh, but stopped with a hiss of pain as one of her many broken ribs made itself known. She lowered her chin to her chest, breathing shallowly to regain her equilibrium. She reached down and grasped the wheels of the chair, laboriously manouver herself into the den and the television. It was the only contact she was allowed with the outside world, and then only the player worked.

Sliding a shiny silver disk into the front of the player, she picked up the remote of the top of the television set and wheeled herself into a comfortable position in front of it. She tried to relax, the background sounds of Jordan puttering around in the kitchen grated on her nerves. She had to bite back the bile in her throat as she thought of what was to come this evening. She relaxed her frame, easing the pain of a broken leg and ribs and countless other wounds.

Know that I love you Chess. When I say it to Jordan I am only thinking of you. She let the silent words give her strength, hoping that when this was over, Francesca would be able to understand. A long fingered hand softly landed on her shoulder and caressed her neck, as Jordan came into the room. She placed a tray of snacks and drinks on the high coffee table and seated herself on Hunters lap, enjoying the feel of the other woman beneath her.

Hunter tried not to squirm.

**********

"Think she'll make a move soon?" The scruffy middle-aged man stuffed a third doughnut into his mouth.

"Why would she? She must have all the stuff she needs. Bitch doesn't even have groceries delivered." The younger officer wound down his window, trying to loose some of the sickly smells that lingered in the car. Stale pastries and cigarettes didn't make a good combination.

The two police officers were doing surveillance the house from a safe distance. State of the art equipment allowed them to be well hidden from the view of the house and yet have a perfect view through the monitors on the dashboard. They would both be very glad when this was all over, days in the woods were very boring.

"Hope she hasn't killed that slave." The older man yawned widely and scratched his crotch.

"Why, Ned?"

"You never seen her fight, Phil? She's the best, hopefully when all this shits over the Prince Corp will sell her back to the arena. I can't wait for her next fight."

"Why would they keep her after this anyway? Dumb ass couldn't even do her job. Shows slaves aren't any brighter than dogs. Stop people having the stupid idea that animals can protect them better than cops."

"Here, here." Ned and Phil brought their cola cans together in a crude toast. "Damn good fighter though."




CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT


The black truck moved with stealth along the narrow country road. With headlights turned out and windows tinted, it was barely distinguishable form the night around it. Suddenly, without warning, the SUV veered into the surrounding woodland, disappearing in the tree line. Moving with surprising accuracy through the nigh the large vehicle managed the perilous journey without incident. Several minutes after entering the woods, it finally came to a halt, well hidden from any prying eyes.

The ignition turned off, leaving only stillness in its wake. The sounds of the night, silenced by the purring of an engine, came back with vengeance as it stopped. Crickets and night owls sang their area to the royal moon and its loyal subjects, the stars. Occasionally the giant black shell, looking like the lifeless body of a scarab, rocked slightly but left no sound.

In contrast the inside of the BMW was a hive of activity. Monitors lined one side of the interior, allowing the car to be driven in total darkness. The monitors were linked to small night vision, cameras mounted to the windshield. They also allowed the occupants to zoom in on the cabin, their objective.

"I can't see any movement around the perimeter of the house." Snake reported from his station.

"You know what? I can't see a single cop..." Even Savage, the head cynic, couldn't quite believe the fact. He scanned the area once more. "I tell a lie, there's one measly car parked a little up the road. Must have powerful magnification gear. They are way too far away to do any good from there." The cogs on his head started to turn rapidly. Of all the slaves, he had the best training for this sort of thing. "They must have a rapid response team very close. We're talking choppers and shit, if they don't want her running. Probably over the next ridge, close enough to get her but well hidden. The two bozo's in the car are their eyes." Four pairs of stunned eyes turned on the weasely man. "What?...Hay, I got trained too."

"Alright, now we all need to stick to the plan, no heroics. We stick together." Wolf was tacking charge.

"Excuse me, I wasn't aware that we had finished the plan." Francesca was not going to be left in this damn truck.

"If you come with us, you will put us all in danger...I can't let you get hurt. Hunter would never forgive me if something happened to you!" He could see her mulling over his words.

"As we don't have much time, I'll make this brief. If I was in that house, she'd move heaven and earth to get me out, sacrifice her own life. I realise that I can't be of any use on the inside but I can stay with Savage outside and play lookout. If she's really hurt, getting her out could kill her and if that happens I want to see her, talk to her one last time." Her eyes were hard, daring him to deny her this wish. And it was a wish, not an order.

"Fine." He growled. "But you stay with Savage, he runs and you run twice as fast, got it?"

"Whatever you say, boss." She couldn't help smiling, they were going to get Rhani out.

**********

Never thought I'd have to use this particular skill, pondered Wolf as he finished putting the black and green camouflage makeup over his face and hands. As warriors they had been trained in covert operations in case they were ever owned by a Master who wanted to hunt them. The ability to blend into the environment and be almost soundless would make them a much more exciting prey. Man hunting man because animals are more important, something very ironic about that. I'll have to wax philosophical about it with Hunter, later. He and the team had been much too valuable to ever worry about being used this way.

The five of them were dressed in the same outfits; black combat pants, tight black sweaters and black caps. Snake, Savage, Meg and Wolf each had a small handgun tucked into a small holster at the small of their backs and a hunting knife in their boots. Francesca didn't have a weapon, the bodyguards didn't want to put temptation in her way. There was no telling what the hot headed young woman would do to defend her love.

They had hedged the truck closer to the site of the cabin, they were now able to make out the lights from the windows through the trees, yet they were still concealed. They were at least six rows of trees between them and the log house. They would have to get closer on foot, or in this case, on belly. That way they stood little chance of moving the foliage and drawing attention to themselves. With all the screens inside turned off and the lights out, they were thrown into total darkness. Carefully Meg pulled open the door, which slid back on silent hinges. Soon they were all out of the safety of the shell and heading towards danger.

Wolf kept a careful eye on the heiress, although he needn't have. She kept low to the ground, unashamedly grovelling through the dirt with the rest of them. Her blue eyes tracked their movements, perfectly imitating what she saw with a precision that only Hunter could match. This woman could have made a fine warrior under different circumstances. Wolf was glad that she hadn't had to find out.

They kept in single file, never speaking a word. Meg lead, and Savage took the rear. Hand gestures, barely seen in the moonlight let them know when to pause. Soon the motley band were at the edge of the trees. This created a whole new set of dangers. Between the tree line and the cabin was a short space filled with a lawn. This garden area was bathed in the nights silver light. They would be exposed until they reached the wooden structure. Once they reached the wall they would be protected in the shadows that it cast.

"We need to hustle, boys and girls. When I give the mark up and run, fast as you can to the wall and hug it." Wolf spoke quickly and quietly. He waited for their affirmative nod before bracing himself for action. I hope the cops are too busy dunking doughnuts to notice us.

With a swift hand gesture from the large man they were off. Almost as one they sprinted the short distance, soon coming into contact with the cool side of the building. Taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart, Francesca felt a sense of elation. She was really doing this. She was helping to rescue the love of her life. For a change she wasn't the damsel in distress, no longer weak and powerless. In her heart she knew that she had these brave souls who stood beside her, to thank for her newfound confidence.

Cautiously they slid around the building, looking into windows to try and find the location of the enemy. They moved past bedrooms, kitchen and dining room, before they found what they were looking for. There, in the lounge room was Hunter. She laid on the floor in a near foetal position. A toppled wheelchair was behind her and a tall blond woman stood over her. From outside they couldn't hear what she was saying, but she was obviously angry from the set of her shoulders.

Suddenly she turned to face the window. The five of them ducked out of the way just in time, remaining unseen. Before they ducked, Meg got a glimpse at the woman on the other side of the glass. The face was totally different, but she would know those eyes anywhere. Every slave that had ever fought with Hunter had seen those eyes. Pictures of that woman were circulated to them all, one of her smiling and happy, the other of her lifeless corpse. It was a lesson. Do as we say or die. Those blue eyes were unmistakable.

"Its Jordan." She mouthed the word, her face showing in the light spilling out of the window. All eyes widened in shock and confusion, before resolve once again settled firmly within them. They had to put this old ghost to rest.

**********

The back door was unlocked, a fact that surprised them all. That this woman, so adapt at running and hiding would be so careless. On the other hand, she obvious felt that she had nothing to fear. In the last few months she had outwitted the police at every turn and had no realise to believe that they had even found her current location. Placing a firm hold on the handle, her softly pushed it inwards.

It was time. With the door fully open, the three of them made there way into the dark kitchen with the skill of a swat team. They closed the door behind them, preventing any stray wildlife or cool air in to give them away. They moved through the house, it was a slow process, they could not storm in. If they did that they would put their friends life at stake. They left the kitchen and entered that dinning room.

Outside Francesca waited. Savage sat, almost negligently by the door. He was star gazing. Francesca didn't know how he could be so off hand with the lives of his friends hanging in the balance. On the other hand, the strange, slightly sinister man by her side, didn't seem to care all that much about the people he lived with. In fact he had been very loyal to Douglas. He definitely wasn't the noble warrior that the others were, this man was a mercenary.

Savage was pleased that he didn't have to go into the house. He was all for saving the short fighter, but not at risk to himself. He barely wanted to risk his existence for the people who owned him, so he certainly wasn't going to do it for people he only just like. And sitting in the moonlight with a very beautiful woman was something not to be sneezed at. He checked on her quickly and noticed her moving towards a window a little further along this side of the building. Catching her eye, he mouthed 'be careful' and received a chagrined smile in thanks.

If she wants to see what's going on, more power to her. As long as I can see her, she can do exactly what she wants. He pulled his eyes away from the brunettes butt and kept his eye on the door.

**********

The sloppily dressed, fat man let out a sigh of relief as an arc of warm amber liquid hit the dirt. There was just no way he could have sat another minute in that car without his bladder exploding. Ned had enough problems in his life without adding bladder problems to the list. Yeah, just what I need, incontinence and a nagging wife. So there he stood, in the middle of the night, taking a leak in the woods. Getting back to nature.

Phil was still sitting in the car. The younger officer had pushed his chair back as far as it would go. He had his booted feet up on the dash and a cup of cold coffee balanced on his stomach. He did keep his eye on the feed from the house. As he was glancing around the confines of their temporary home, he caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. The young man straightened in his seat and peered more closely at the picture.

"Ned!"

"Can't a man even piss in peace?" His question was purely rhetorical. "What?"

"I can see something at the cabin, I don't know what it is, but there is a large shadow by the side of the building. I think somebody is out there." Ned fastened his trousers with an audible zip.

"Show me..." The screen was tilted to him. He looked carefully at the picture. There was definitely something there. "We need to call in reinforcements. If she has backup, or if that is her we need help, stat!"

Phil didn't need to be told twice. He picked up the radio and made the call.

**********

Pausing in her tirade, the tall blond looked at the fallen woman in front of her. How had that happened? She didn't remember knocking Hunter to the floor. They had been talking, as they did most evenings. Then they had started to kiss. Now the injured woman was on the floor, looking like a broken toy.

With her breathing coming back to normal, and the haze clearing from her mind, Jordan could still not recall why the other woman was out of her chair. She must have fallen. I'll help her. She knelt down beside her downed lover she tenderly ran her fingers along the side of her scarred cheek. Hunter moaned softly in response. With practiced ease she used one hand to put the chair back on its wheels, while using the other to put the warrior in a sitting position.

Getting to her feet, Jordan hoisted the sturdy body of the other woman back into the leather embrace of her wheelchair. The chair was then placed back in front of the television. The ex-cop noticed a small trickle of blood at the corner of soft lips.

"I'll have to get you a band aid, baby." Hunter nodded feebly.

Jordan turned to leave the room, but a foreign sound caught her attention. It was barely noticeable, but this was a woman on the edge. She was on constant vigil, ready to run. Years of chasing criminals had heightened her senses to be almost as acute the other woman's. The feint click was definitely out of place. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a gun. She wasn't about to take any chances. She pulled the key to the bureau out of her pocket and unlocked a drawer. From the recesses of the wood she pulled her firearm.

Hunter was too out of it to made any sound. She barely realised what the other woman was doing until she crept out of the room. Not having heard the faint noise through the pounding of blood in her head and pain in her limbs, she had no idea what Jordan was doing. Maybe she's going to shoot me, put me out of my misery. It wasn't an unpleasant thought.

Jordan left the lounge and with a soft tread on the thick carpet of the hallway, made her way towards the sound. It had come from the direction of the dinning room, so that would be her first stop. The carpet muffled all sound as she made her way to the partially open door. The lights were off, to protect her from view. The room was accessible from both the kitchen and the hallway, and as she watched three figures were making their way to the hallway.

She couldn't see their faces, but that didn't matter. They were here to take Hunter away and that would never happen again. She had fought to hard to rescue her from the evils of the world. She had set her free and nobody was going to make her go back to a life of drudgery and orders.

She raised the gun in her hand and fired at the first intruder. The blast from the gun flared brightly in the room before the body fell to the floor with a thud. In rapid succession the other two fell. She didn't even allow them to raise there weapons. They all lay unconscious on the floor. She could just make out the stain spreading over the floor beneath them.

"That'll teach them not to send people after me." She pulled the door closed and flipped on the light. "Looks like its time to move on, again. They won't send another wave until they get a report from these clowns....Cops are so predictable."



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE



Peering through the window, Francesca's eyes widened in horror. The sudden, bright flash of light cleared to reveal a dark lump on the floor. A second and third shot almost blinded her, too bright in the night. Soon the spots cleared from her vision, showing her the lifeless bodies of her three comrades. As fast as she could, she back peddled away from the cabin. She moved too quickly and landed on her arse in the dirt, heart racing so fast that she thought it might break through her chest.

Her head was spinning. She couldn't believe what she had seen. They were dead. She hadn't even heard the sound of the gun shots. It had been like watching some sort of sick mime play out before her. Sucking huge lungful's of air she calmed down enough to realise that she had to get Savage and do something.

Scrambling to her feet, she ran towards Savage. The reticent warrior had been paying no attention to her actions. As she reached him, she saw that the man was in a light doze. Under different circumstances she would have been shocked, even angry, but she didn't have the time. In the same way that she knew, by running along the side of the building, she could have been seen. It wasn't important.

"Savage." It was a hiss.

"What." The man was instantly alert, pulling his feet beneath him and moving into a crouch.

"She saw them....She saw them and she shot them." Unbidden, tears welled in her eyes.

"Fuck!" He could see the wheels turning in her head, nothing good could come of this.

Before he could blink, Francesca was wrapping her hand around the cool metal of the door handle. Before he could stop her, she was through the door. Breathing out an exasperated sigh he began to follow her. The sudden sound of approaching cars made his head snap in the direction of the sound. Coming up the dirt road, at speed, were what looked like hundreds of slashing blue lights.

Savage was caught between following his charge and saving his own skin. He was not an honourable man, he wasn't like the others. He couldn't risk getting caught by the police for any reason. Slaves were treated poorly at best. In the few brief seconds it took him to make his decision, he knew that Francesca was out of reach even though she was just beyond the door.

Sorry my brothers, was his last thought as he sprinted into the dense woods. He quickly disappeared from view. The distant sound of a truck engine starting could be herd before the air was filled with the sound of sirens.

**********

The click of the door closing behind her made Francesca jump. She was alone in a psychopaths house and Savage had clearly deserted her. She had to stay calm. Stay calm, yeah that's easy. She wanted to snort in derision, fear making her light headed, but she held it back.

She was blind in the kitchen, the light in the room different to that outside. There was no moon here to illuminate her surroundings. She was scared, and the idea of waiting around while her eyes adjusted was unappealing. It took all her courage, but she moved forward. Step, by tentative step, she made her way towards her lover.

She was almost to the door, when she stumbled over a chair. Before she could fall she managed to right herself, but she couldn't catch the chair. The wooden piece of furniture clattered to the floor. The noise as loud as thunder in the silence of the house. Again Francesca's heart began the rapid drumming beats of a cornered rabbit. She was paralysed, waiting for the figure to come through the door. It wasn't possible that she hadn't heard the clatter.

Within seconds the door was thrown open, smacking into the wall with a loud thud. The young, dark haired woman, couldn't help but jump at the sound. The slight adjustment that her eyes had made to the darkness was quickly eradicated as a long fingered hand flipped on the light switch. The bright, searing white light filled the kitchen. It burned into her sensitive eyes and rendered her totally helpless.

"Why can't you just die?" Francesca raised her eyes in the direction of her voice. The red mist was already dissipating from her vision. She could just make out the shadowing figure in the doorway.

"My agent won't let me." Where did that come from? Francesca, this is your brain, shut your mouth!

"You think this is funny? I knew you didn't really care about her! You're just a self serving bitch." The words were spat with such venom, that the intruder took a step back. "Don't move!"

Freezing on the spot, chest rising and falling rapidly, she waited. Her vision once again clear, she saw the tall blond stalking towards her. Blue eyes tracked down the dangerous woman's body, drawn to the gun gripped firmly in her hand. Francesca couldn't help but be fascinated by the other woman. This was the women that had owned Rhani's heart for so many years. Short, blond hair surrounded a soft, almost serene face. All her anger and bitterness was in her blue eyes.

"Jordan, you don't have to do this...She will always love you, deep in her heart." The heiress knew that this was a long shot.

Maybe you should listen to her.

Does she think I'm a fool?

She might be serious.

She doesn't care about me.

She cares about Hunter.

No she doesn't!

Maybe you should give up.

She can't have her.

She isn't yours anymore.

She'll always be mine!

"She's mine!" The words were screamed in her victims face. Francesca had stood mesmerised as the other woman seemed to go through an inner struggle, all the while tightening her grip on the weapon in her hand. Before the brunette could say another word she was silenced. "Shut up!"

Blue and red light suddenly burst through the windows, filling the room. The colours swirled red to blue, blue to red. Sometimes mixing to purple as they speeded up. They gave the two woman an almost surreal appearance as they stood in their tableau. The splintering of glass drew Jordan's attention away from the other woman. Hurtling through the window came a metal rod. Following the sound of breaking glass came the sound of the police. All homes, even cabins, were sound proof, the only way to make any deals from outside was to break the glass.

The sound of a helicopter drowned out all the others sounds, an intense searchlight moving back and forth over them. Seeing the crazed woman temporarily distracted, Francesca knew that she had to seize the opening and lunged at her. Her feet left the floor and she hit the woman with all her weight. The two of them dropped to the floor in a heap of arms and legs. The gun skittered across the floor.

As they began to struggle, Francesca realised just how strong the other woman was. Her slender frame hid a strength that she could not match. In the background they could hear the voice of the head police officer. Using a loud speaker he must have been making demands, but the two combatants could not make any sense out of his words. Jordan was wrapped up in her rage, focused solely on the woman who was a thorn in her side. Francesca couldn't hear through the pounding of the blood in her ears.

A pain seared through her side as Jordan landed a solid punch to her right kidney. Instinctively curling into a ball, as she had done many times when Douglas hit her, she waited for the next blow. When it didn't come, she looked up, and up into the grinning face of a murderer. Jordan stood over her, gun once more firmly in hand. This time the weapon was aimed right at her head. Tipping the gun, Jordan made a gesture that clearly mean Francesca should stand. There she was, at point blank range, in front of a crazy woman.




CHAPTER THIRTY


Francesca! The sound of her lover's voice in the confines of the cabin sent a bolt of fear through the injured warrior. That she was arguing with Jordan trebled it. Gun shots had already rung throughout the small building. She had hoped it was the police, finally stopping the other woman, because as much as she had loved Jordan, the woman who had held her hostage was not her. The creature behind the blue eyes was a monster from her nightmares, not the angel of her dreams. It was now obvious that whoever had been shot, it wasn't her.

She tried to move her broken body. Her hands were too badly broken to even grasp the large wheels of the chair. She gazed down at her traitorous digits, seeing them as little more than pounded pieces of meat, filled with chips of bone. Distracted by her own pain and self loathing. the fog of pain clouding her senses , she did not at once register the strobing blue an red lights streaming through the windows.

Hunter's already pounding heart sped up another notch, feeling as though it would burst through her breast and land on the carpet, still beating and raw. Broken in so many ways. She should have felt relief, the cavalry had arrived, yet a sense of foreboding had taken residence in her small frame. A leaden weight in the pit of her stomach. So many things could go wrong. Francesca could be hurt in so many ways, both accidentally and with intent. If Jordan hurt the beautiful singer, Hunter would not rest until she was a cooling body.

The voices in the kitchen had quieted since the police came, the warriors once keen hearing dulled too much by ain to hear their lowered voices. She closed eyes that danced as much with white spots as blue lights, trying to calm her spinning mind. The lights still played on the inside of her eyelids, but her focus became the prayer in her head. A mantra to keep the woman she loved safe. she sent her the only help she could. She gave Francesca her hope.

**********

"Put the gun down. Nobody has to get hurt." The sound of the police loud hailer spread through the kitchen, using the acoustics of the spartan room to echo strangely around them.

The two women could easily be seen by through the large windows. Silhouettes standing like a dangerous mime in a room painted in swirling lights. Two tall, slender figures, one circling the other in a strange ballet. One gun shaped hand moving constantly. The other figure cowered under the assault. The waiting cops didn't know who the second figure was, it couldn't be the slave she was smaller and wider than this willowy form. Whoever she was, they could do nothing to help her, they were little more than spectators to the drama in front of them. If they rushed in they could get everybody in the cabin killed and they wanted to take the kidnapper alive, she would be an example to other crazies out there. They would have to wait for a window of opportunity, if there was one.

"Nobody has to get hurt." Sarcasm dripped from Jordan's tongue. She moved around Francesca like a cat toying with a mouse, but this was no housecat...this was a tiger. The cool barrel of the gun traced a path across the singers flushed cheeks and trembling lips, as Jordan walked around and around. "He's wrong you know...Somebody does have to get hurt and that somebody is you." A mocking burst of laughter freed itself from the long column of her throat. "Shooting you will be like an exorcism, you will no longer haunt my love and she can be happy knowing that you will never try to take her back into slavery again."

Francesca was not a stupid woman, she knew that Jordan was very serious, and obviously delusional. You need to calm down and think. The statuesque young woman let out a long shaky breath, Jordan letting out another mirthless bark of laughter at the sound. Okay, deep breaths, in and out, in and out. Alright Princess, she's really close to you and she keeps putting the gun on you....So I need to get her to step away. That was easier thought than done, because in no way did she want to startle the unstable woman. She caste her eyes around the room, trying to find something that could help her. A sudden ridiculous thought popped into her head, and she had to hold back a hysterical laugh. I should ask for a glass of water...get a last meal. Moments passed in relative silence, the two women caught up in their own thoughts, the sound of the police no more important than the buzzing of insects. What the hell.

"C...c...can I have a g...g...glass of water?" Her voice trembled just above a whisper.

"What?" Jordan's eyes were almost comically wide, her voice clearly incredulous as she walked to stay in front of the other woman, little more than a foot of space between them.

Francesca shakily raised her head and looked Jordan in the eye. Never show fear to an animal. "Can I have a g...glass of water....p...please?" She sounded desperate to her own ears.

Francesca watched the other woman's face go blank, like a slate wiped totally clean. Her mouth went slack and her eyes seemed to glaze over. Francesca almost expected her eyes to roll up into her head and for the blond to fall down in a feint. Taking a chance Francesca moved to scratch her nose, and found the gun unerringly aimed at her temple, even though Jordan's countenance remained otherwise frozen.

This woman is unbelievable!

She's scared.

She should be.

You don't have to do this....

What?

Hunter will never forgive.

She wants her dead too...

No she doesn't...she wants to be free.

She is free.

And you are blind!

Suddenly the inside of her head reverberated with silence. Like the aftermath of a slamming door when a loved one has left the room. Momentarily confused, Jordan took a step back from her prisoner, the gun wavering in her hand. Shaking her head slightly to clear it, she tried to focus on what the other woman had said.

"No you can't have a g....." The explosive sound of gunfire cut off her words as the police fired on the pair. Jordan's movements had placed her in a excellent location, they could shot without endangering he other figure too much.

The volley of bullets flew through the air, causing both Francesca and Jordan to dive for cover. Francesca ducked behind a counter, finding her back pressed to a partially open cupboard. As her back hit the wood, a large skillet fell from the doorway and landed with a loud clang on the stone floor. It would have been a nerve rattling sound, if the sound of shots hadn't drowned it out. Her mind working in overdrive, the heiress wrapped her hands around the handle of the frying pan and hefted it into her grip. Now this has possibilities. Raising herself onto her knees, she peered cautiously over the edge of the counter as the shots died down.

Jordan lay on the floor in the middle of the room, the gun still tightly grasped in her hand and her chest steadily rising and falling. A small pool of blood spread out under one shoulder. Millions of scenarios began to play themselves out in Francesca's mind, but before she could make a move, the prone figure began to stir and sit up groggily. Jordan looked blearily around the garishly illuminated room, staggering to her feet, she was ready to locate her prey.

CLANG! The skillet hit the back of the blond head. Almost in slow motion the willowy woman spun around with the force of the blow, locking eyes with her prey who it now seemed had become the predator. Blue eyes rolled back, leaving only pools of white, until she finally sagged to the floor in a boneless heap. The gun shot out of nerveless fingers and skittered across the floor and underneath the refrigerator.

Francesca quickly satisfied herself that the crazy woman was out cold she threw the pan to the floor in disgust and marched out of the kitchen. She knew that she should check on the others, find out if they were alive or dead, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing alone. Rhani. She had to get to Rhani.

**********

Hunter couldn't help but hear the sound of many guns discharging into the cabin. Her whole body tensed in the chair, her hands once again clawing futiley at the wide aluminium handles on the wheels. Sitting in the stillness of the lounge, the television still playing to itself, Hunter felt more of a prisoner than she had in all her life. As the little shots died down, fading into eventual nothingness, tears sprang to the metallic eyes and spilled over hollow cheeks. Deep in her heart she knew that both women were dead, her past and her future destroyed. Her heart turned to dust.

The sound of false laughter drifted through the room from the television. Hunter cut her eyes towards it, hating the smiling faces on the flat screen. She hung her head, feeling too weak to support it. Her last vestiges of strength had been drained away with the death of her beloved. Realising that the torment of the happy voices would continue she painfully cleared her throat.

"Voice commands on..." Her throat was raw, it had been a long time since she had spoken with any real volume. "TV off." The screen went instantly black.

Silenced now wrapped around her like a blanket, or a shroud. The soundproof room kept the noise of the police out, the whirling lights the only sign of their existence. Blood pumping, heart beating, head pounding and laboured breathing were the only sounds left to fill her ears. She raised a broken hand to her face and felt the warm wetness of her tears.

"I am so sorry my love, I should have been stronger." The whispered words were her last prayer to her beloved Francesca, all that she could offer her now that she was gone. "If I had been more alert none of this would have happened. I thought you were dead until today, then you are taken from me again." Her throat closed with the pressure of the sobs that were ripped from her chest. Her shoulders hunch further and she sank into her grief.

CLANG!

The sudden sound of metal impacting on a soft surface made Hunter's head snap up like a whip, her eyes wide and starring. Somebody was still alive in the cabin, in the kitchen. A tiny sliver of hope took residence in her chest, could it be? Could Francesca have survived? She strained her senses and could just make out the sound of something thudding softly to the floor. She knew that sound, that was the noise a body makes when you knock it unconscious.

"Please be Chess." The soft sound of foot falls sounded on the other side of the lounge door.

"Please be Chess." The steps stopped at the door, and the handle began to turn.

**********

Francesca stood on in front of the closed door, her palms were sweating and her heart raced. She was almost as scared now as she had been in the kitchen with the psychopath. What is wrong with you Francesca? Get in there and rescue the woman you love. Squaring her shoulders and wiping her hands on her black pants, she reached out a trembling hand and turned the doorknob.

The door opened wide in front of her like a portal into the unknown. The room beyond it was filled with the same flashing lights as the kitchen, but the warm glow of the lamps placed at every corner softened their glare. It gave the room an almost ethereal quality, like the grotto in some demented fairy tale. In just a few steps Francesca found herself through the wide open door and in front of her princess charming.

Looking down into the tear filled eyes, eyes that should seem cold and empty, Francesca felt her heart swell with pride. This woman had gone through so much in her life, Francesca knew that if she had faced the same she would have given up and died a thousand times. The blonds skin was sallow and covered in a sheen of sweat, clear signs of fever ravaging her frail body. Her once cherubic cheeks were sunken like a corpse and the singer could barely see a piece of visible flesh that didn't bare a wound. And her hands, her beautiful, strong hands, were broken nearly beyond recognition. Fighting back the tears that threatened to consume her, she tilted the battered face up with gentle fingers.

"Shouldn't the handsome prince be saving the princess?" The smile that she gave the warrior was so full of love that it dazzled the seated woman.

"Thought I'd keep you on your toes." Her voice was rough, barely sounding like it came from her mouth, but to Francesca it was the most wonderful sound in the world.

Watching those lips move, Francesca felt herself hypnotised by the other woman. She had only seen those lips in her dreams for so long, that even in their cut and chapped state they were irresistible. Keeping Hunter's head tilted with gentle fingers on her chin, Francesca lowered her lips to those of her lover. As their lips touched, Hunter held back a wince of pain, as much as kissing the brunette sung, she didn't want it to end. The feeling of lips pressing and moulding together in love was so different from the hard, brutal kisses from Jordan that the warrior felt as though she was stepping from hell, back into heaven. Quickly lips parted and welcomed the caress of tongues as the kiss deepened. So caught up in the relief and joy of the moment, both women let the danger that still exist around them fade into unimportance.

When they eventually separated, the taller woman rested her forehead against her lovers and gazed adoringly into her eyes. Hunter's attention was not as fixed, as much as she had missed Francesca, she found her training kicking in. With the heiress in her arms, her honed skills as a warrior pushed themselves to the fore. Protecting the other woman was once again her priority, and the pain in her body was pushed back.

"Chess, what happened? I heard shots, then I heard you talk..." Her raspy words were cut of by the sudden movement of the other woman as she jerked upwards.

"Oh my God, I've got to check on the others!" She was almost at the door when Hunters calling her name.

"Where are you going? Jordan's still in the house, isn't she?" A small nod confirmed her suspicions. "Then your still in danger."

"It's alright, she's out cold. I hit her really hard and the police shot her too, I think. I have to go check on Wolf and the others. They came to rescue you, but Jordan shot them. I have to see if anybody is still alive." Hunters face had paled even further, if that was possible.

"Go." When the other woman was out of sight, Hunter shook her head. Why would they come after me like this? Stupid, reckless, idiotic...Loyal friends. It was a revelation that she had never had before. In such a short time, under such heinous circumstances, she had gone from a surely, bitter loner to a woman who realised she had friends. Maybe even a family. "Now if only I could stand up life would be perfect."

**********

The young singer was certainly not going to walk through the dark house, she'd seen those movies. You never wanted to be the woman walking through the pitch back house with just a flashlight. Sticky ends always awaited these women. Francesca flicked the switch on every old fashioned light fixture that she came across. Shadows were chased to the far corners of the cabin, leaving barely enough room for a mouse to hide in. Not wanting to be away from Rhani for too long, she rushed along the hallway.

The dinning room looked much smaller in the light. From outside the cabin it had seemed like a huge, cavernous room, a long way for the warriors to walk. And it had been too far in the end. Francesca steeled herself, ready for almost anything as she approached the first body. She had never checked a body for a pulse before, in fact she had never been this close to a corpse before, and it made her head spin and her stomach churn.

The body closest to the door was Wolf, his head lying under the corner of the table. Sucking up all her courage, she knelt by his side. She could see a pool of blood under his body, shining like silk in under the fluorescent lamp. One trembling hand reached out towards his thick neck, fingers pressing into his throat, searching for a pulse. Slow, yet steady beats pounded against her fingers causing Francesca to let out an inarticulate sound of joy. Quickly rushing to the side of the other two warriors she found a pulse in each one. Looking more closely it became apparent that both Wolf and Snake were knocked down by the force of the shot. Wolf had taken the bullet in the shoulder, Snake in the thigh. The large table at the rooms centre had been the men's real nemeses, as they fell, both managed to hit the table with their heads, knocking them out.

Phoenix was anther matter, her pulse was much more thready than her comrades. Their wasn't much blood around her body, but a bullet seemed to be firmly lodged in her chest. Suddenly time became of the essence, she really wanted to get everybody out of this house. She rushed from the room, heading back towards Hunter.

"How are they? Are they dead?" Hunter tried not to panic, even though she could see the strain etched on Francesca's face.

"They're all alive, but Phoenix is weak. We gotta get out of here now." She was already wheeling Rhani's chair to the door. She wanted the smaller woman to be close by, so that they could leave together.

"Well I could have told you that Chess." The tight band around Hunter's chest relaxed slightly as she realised they were getting out of the nightmare.

**********

"Okay Chess, you need to keep calm. Remember to keep your hands where they can be seen and to walk slowly. Speak loud so that they can hear you." Hunter was worried about the other woman, but her fame should make her easily recognisable.

"We'll be home soon, Rhani." Francesca placed a kiss on her forehead before leaving the warrior in the wheelchair close to the door, but well shielded by the wall.

The tall brunette squared her shoulders, and opened the solid wooden door with purpose. She strode out into the night, the cool air caressing her flushed cheeks as she walked towards the crowd of men on the lawn. Hunter couldn't help admiring her statuesque lover, looking like a goddess, resolute and strong. I can't wait to get home.

Outside, Francesca was overwhelmed by the noise of the sirens. Overhead a chopper closed in, its bright searchlight illuminating her light a spotlight. Shaking under the scrutiny of so many eyes, she kept her hands held way above her head, stretching them skyward. Nobody would think that u were used to singing in front of big crowds, woman. These are the good guys. Stopping halfway between the house and the police, every gun aimed straight at her, she wasn't sure how she could make them hear her. As if reading her thoughts, the sirens went silent and the chopper moved away.

"Um....I'm Francesca Prince...The woman who kidnapped me is in the house." She shouted at the police, desperately wanting them to hear every word. "She's unconscious. My lover is injured and there are three unconscious people in the house, all of them have been shot." She had begun to shout faster and faster.

"Miss Prince, move away from the house, your safe now. We'll send a team in once we have you safe." The voice coming over the loud hailer was filled with concern, more for his job than the woman in front of him. If she got hurt, he wouldn't have a career anymore.

"You don't understand..." Even as she tried to make then go into the cabin, she found herself moving quickly towards them wanting to be surrounded by safety.

She focused her gaze on the man with the microphone, he became the centre of the tribe of soldiers standing in front of her. She would get to safety and then she would make them get Rhani out and they would go home and live together, happily, forever. So set was she on her journey, that she almost missed the look that passed over the balding man's face. A look of horror flashed across his shiny face, quickly turning into a anger. He was looking passed her and back at the house.

Francesca couldn't help but turn, compelled by the need to see what he saw, she was now facing the cabin her back to her rescue. What she saw froze her to the core, there in the doorway, framed by light, stood Jordan. Her gun was once again clutched in her hand. Her bloody shoulder and matted hair gave her the true appearance of madness. Her outward appearance finally giving in to her inner psychosis.

"Miss Prince, get down!" The shout was loud, but the command was lost on the young woman who was paralysed with fear.
There was no standoff, as soon as she stood fully in the doorway Jordan raised her gun. It wouldn't matter how fast she police aimed she would get off the first shot. She could see the terror in the other woman's eyes as she looked at the gun and her face cracked into a broad grin as she heard the police try to help. She cocked the gun and placed her finger firmly on the trigger, pulling it back.

As the trigger hit home, a sudden force hit her from the side with enough force to knock her off her feet. The gun discharged into the body on top of her, allowing the woman the bullet was intended for the chance to run to the police. Jordan lay there, stunned, unable to understand how anybody could have got that close to her without her hearing. The wind had been knocked out of her, all she could do for the moment was cast her eyes around the floor.

Her eyes fell on the toppled wheelchair on the floor beside her. In a rush she knew that the body on top of her was Hunter. A scream ripped itself from Jordan's through, as out in the night, surrounded by men Francesca let out a similar scream. Hunter had taken the bullet meant for her. Jordan gently rolled the body off of her chest and onto its back. Looking at the small warrior, Jordan could see the red stain spreading across her chest. A chest that was not moving at all.

Staggering to her feet, she once again found herself looking at Francesca. The heiress was being held firmly by two police officers, tears streaming down her face and inarticulate screams coming from her throat. Jordan felt her heart turn leaden in her chest.

She's dead.

You killed her.

Your all alone.

"NO!" The scream burst from Jordan's lips as she raised the gun to her temple and pulled the trigger. The watching cops were stunned. The movement had been so fast that they had barely registered what was happening until it was over.

Blood sprayed from the back of her head as her arm fell limply to her side. Standing proud in the doorway one moment the lifeless body suddenly crumbled like a puppet with its strings cut. She landed in a heap beside Hunter, head resting on the small warriors shoulder, her blood covering them both. Her last wish to be with Hunter in death as they had not been allowed to be together in life...inseparable.











EPILOGUE


"Are you alright honey? Do you need another pillow? Some juice?" The worried voice beginning to grate on her nerves.

"Earplugs..." The low growl was missed completely by her lover.

"I could bring the TV in here, you've been in the hospital so long. I missed having you here with me." The big warrior sat down on the edge of their bed.

"Mathew, look at me. I'm fine now, just a few more weeks of rest and I'll be good as new. I had enough babying at the hospital, a girl can only take two months of that. Now I wanted to be treated like normal." She got a resigned look from the big man. She rested a slender hand on his meaty forearm. "How's your shoulder?"

"I'm good as new. So is Snake, we're like rubber balls." He flexed his shoulder to show her it was true.

"And how's..." Her voice was quiet, sad.

"As well as you would expect, better than I thought. I guess it'll take a while for her to get back to normal." Wolf's usually twinkling eyes held a shadow as he spoke. "Francesca wants to talk to all of us, she's been waiting for you to get out of the hospital. She wont say why, but she wants us all here tomorrow...there going to invade our love nest ."

"For shame!" She answered his pout. "I can't wait."

**********

The four slaves sat around the small bedroom. Meg laying in the bed, her back propped up on pillows and her head resting on Wolf's shoulder. The big man had barely left his wounded mate's side since she was released from the hospital, and now sat at her side on their bed. On either side of the bed sat Savage and Snake. Each man had pulled up a chair so that they could all sit and face the fifth person in the room.

Francesca felt totally at ease with these people who she had once seen as slaves. They had come to mean so much more to her than that over the last few months. These people were a part of her family and had risked their lives for the people she cared about the most. Francesca sat on the window ledge directly in front of the large bed. Framed by the window she looked like a dream, her sad blue eyes and dark hair contrasting with the sight of the gardens through the glass.

"I know that you've al been wondering why I wanted to talk to you like this, and honestly I could have spoken with you in private, but I wanted to do this with us all together." She locked eyes with each individual. "I know that when you arrived here I was a real bitch and I treated you all quite badly. But I think of you now as friends. You have helped my family so much that I know I can never repay you. My father thought he'd give it a try, though." She pulled some documents from the bag at her feet. "It's not easy to set people free. Emancipation isn't the done thing, but after what you've done I knew that I couldn't own you. Last week my father went to court and got each of you declared free men. These are your new papers. You can do what you want from now on. Whatever you decide to do, I'll make sure that you have enough money to start a new life." She finished and once again looked at the four bodyguards.

A buz went through the small group. The heiresses words were not totally unexpected, they had known that she would try to give them some level of freedom. Perhaps even let them live free on the estate, but this was unprecedented. They would be free to go where they pleased, live the lives that they had always been denied.

"Let me get this straight, if we leave you'll give us enough money to start a new life?" Savage was all about the money.

"Yes, and even if you stay you will be given the same and a wage for whatever you want to do here. Do any of you know what you'd like to do?"

"I'm blowing this Popsicle stand. I'm going to Vegas. Hire myself out as a bodyguard and have plenty of time to learn how to be a high roller. Time for me to live the life that I've never been allowed to." It came as no surprise o the other slaves that this was savages plan. He had talked about this scenario for years, and finally his dream of freedom had come.

"So you've thought about this?" Francesca was amazed with the speed of the mans response.

"What slave hasn't?" Snake's question was rhetorical. "I have always been unsure of what I would do. I think I would like to go on a journey, find my spiritual centre. But I have no definite plan."

"You do whatever you need, you won't have to worry about expenses." The couple on the bed were talking together in hushed tones before they turned to look at Francesca.

"We want to stay here. We like you and the children a great deal, and you love my best friend. If we stay, could we....um....could I be a gardener? I love plants and its just nice to be outside." Wolf looked like an expectant child.

"I would love for you to stay and you can do whatever job you want to. This whole block will belong to you. You can have it converted, you can design the plans yourself." The young woman's heart felt a little lighter knowing that she had made real friends among these fierce men and women. "I want to make a memorial to Polar and Grizzly on the estate...if that's alright?"

"That would be wonderful..."

**********

"Mama, make them hurry up, I wanna go now!" The usually quiet little girl tugged on her mothers pant leg.

"Kids we're gonna be late!" Francesca called up the stairs as she finished applying her lipstick. She wanted to look perfect for this meeting.

Two sets of baby elephant steps came crashing down the stairs as Rochel and Terrance joined their mother and little sister. They looked at a picture postcard family, all dressed up nice and polished clean. With a quick check to make sure nobody needed a pee they were on their way in the big green SUV that Francesca had bought on a whim. She liked the colour.

**********

Two teams of children ran around the huge a carpet of lawn as they played with a soccer ball. Among the children several adults tried to keep up, pulling silly faces and tickling any child that got in their path. Championship quality play it might not have been, but to the woman watching it seemed like much more fun. It was one of those days that you could call perfect, the sun was shining but it wasn't too hot, she was surrounded by family and she had a cool glass of lemonade. Just one thing was missing.

A long shadow suddenly fell over her seated form and with it came a wider smile to her face. The cherubic face tilted upwards to regard the beautiful woman towering above her with eye filled with adoration. Blue eyes regarded her with the same intensity, before briefly flicking over towards the children.

"Hard to believe its their birthday again, time moves so fast." Her voice was sad, and the seated woman wouldn't stand for that.

"Come here." She held out her hand and drew the other woman onto her lap in the sturdy wheelchair.

Sitting sideways on the smaller woman's lap, Francesca gazed into green eyes that shone with love. She reached up a hand to caress the skin around them. "I love these."

"I've grown rather fond of them myself, its nice to see you as you really are. I can never thank you for paying to have those implants removed, now when I look at you and it hurts its only because I love you so much." The two women shared a soft smile before their lips met in a kiss.

"What did the doctor say?" The singer began to toy with a soft strand of gold.

"With luck I'll be out of this chair by the end of the month, I should make a full recovery with how well I've been doing." Her partners face didn't mirror her enthusiasm. "What?"

"Then we have to face the world."

"I know it won't be easy, Chess."

"Why does everything have to be so hard?" She snuggled her face into th other womans neck.

"We have each other, Chess. We'll always have each other."