She could see a big shadow moving in her peripheral vision. It passed in front of the woman standing beside her. Then it passed in front of Rona herself.
And stopped.
Oh God, oh God, oh God…
The Merc was so close, she could smell his sweat, mixed with the odors of gun oil and machine grease. Could he smell her too? Rona wondered. Could he smell her fear?
“What’s your name?”
The voice was so low, so very, very deep, that it seemed to shake the entire hall. Rona could feel it rumbling deep inside her body, tickling her in places she didn’t want tickled.
He isn’t talking to me. He can’t be. No way.
A gloved finger touched her chin and nudged her face upward. Before she had a chance to stop them, her eyes lifted and locked with the Merc’s own. Behind the slate-rimmed pupils, Rona could see the red-coal glow of the augmetic implants within. Implants which allowed the man to see God knew what. Through her clothing. Through her skin. Into her very soul. A sudden surge of heat blasted through Rona’s body, an uncomfortable amalgam of terror and lust.
“I asked you a question, woman. What is your name?”
“Go fuck yourself,” she said. “That’smy name.”
The gasp that rippled through the Common Hall was the biggest one yet, and it seemed to suck all the air out of the room.
Nobody was more surprised by her response than Rona herself. Where had that come from? What the hell had she been thinking? Nobody talked to the Mercs like that. Nobody.
She cringed in anticipation of the retaliation she knew must be coming. Gloved fingers grabbing her by the throat and squeezing hard. A knife between her ribs. A bullet in her brain.
But the man named Aeron did no such thing. The only hint that he’d even heard her at all was the merest suggestion of a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. For a long moment they just stood there staring at each other, her defiance meeting his amusement like a pair of crossed blades.
Then Brundage came scurrying over.
“Mysincerestapologies, good sir! This woman’s name is Rona. She is but a lowly miner. Perhaps one of the other women would be more pleasing to your—”
“A miner, eh?”
The Merc took Rona’s hands and turned them palms up. He brushed his thumb across her calluses. That simple, gentle touch sent another wave of heat rushing through her.
Stop it!she thought.Stop!
She suddenly remembered the slur the man upstairs had used against her.
“Brundage is right,” she said, her voice low. “You won’t find me pleasing. I don’t like men.”
It was only half a lie. She didn’t likemostmen. Certainly none of the ones in the village.
Aeron smirked again.
“No?” he said. “You will when I’m through with you.”
What he did next was not gentle, and it happened so fast, Rona didn’t have a chance to react. First, the Merc unzipped the front of her jacket. Then he grabbed the two sides and pulled them down, exposing her chest and pinning her arms to her sides. She was wearing a dirty white tank top underneath, but the thin fabric did little to conceal the erect buds of her nipples.
“I thought you didn’t like men,” the Merc chuckled.
“I don’t…”
His right hand let go of her jacket, and it came up to fondle her left breast through her shirt. Rona tried to pull away, but the platform was too crowded for her to move. The Merc thumbed her nipple, sending tingles of unwanted pleasure racing through her.
“Stop that,” she hissed.
He didn’t stop. His hand and his eyes remained on her chest, but when he spoke, his words were addressed to Brundage.
