Auction

"I want you to let me go."

"What do you mean?" He reaches out and caresses my cheek softly.

"My family died so I could be free of places like this. I want you to let me go. Back to the wild. Please."

"Not a chance," Tore snorts from the far side of the bed.

I fall silent, but the calm feeling I enjoyed is replaced with the slow burn of anger. They don't own me. They might have bought me, but I was never the sheriff's to sell, and now he's dead.

"Freedom isn't free," Alexios says. "We can keep you safe."

"From what?"

"From the world."

"The last thing any of you make me feel is safe."

There is a rumble of chuckles. I don't know these men. These men don't know me.

"I'm going to be free," I tell Alexios. They can all hear me, but he is the only one looking me in the eye.

He smiles, but it is the indulgent smile a parent might give a child if the child were to declare that they intend to be a helicopter when they grow up.

"You don't have to fight anymore," he murmurs, those deep brown eyes lit with a warmth that makes me feel squirmy. "You have all of us to fight for you."

"So what do I have to do? Just lie back and let you all fuck me?"

Big hands settle on my waist. Keanau flips me around to face him.

"You," he says, his handsome, tattooed face lit with promise, "are going to have our babies. You are going to turn this place from one of death to one of life."

There's a knock at the door before I can respond. Mattias opens it.

"Gentlemen," he says. "There is a matter of some urgency I suggest you attend to."

"What is it?" Tore and Pharaoh sit up. Alexios and Keanau stay in position beside me.

"Evidently, the soldiers you spared yesterday went to the citizenry. The sheriff's passing has been noted with some anger. There is a mob forming."

Like that, they are all out of bed in a shot. I am left in the cooling wake of the warm spots where their bodies lay until I decide to follow them. Whatever is going on, I want to know about it.

We all go to the balcony where the sheriff used to give his speeches from. There are screens and cameras set up, so he could address thousands of people from on high. The other three mercenaries are already there, enjoying the view I suppose.

There are quite a few men milling around below. Maybe a couple thousand. Some of them are still wearing the sheriff's guard uniforms. They are not happy. The shouting of the rabble is quite frightening, and I do not trust that these men can survive it.

"Stop teasing them," Keanau says.

"This place is fortified," Silver points out. "They can't do anything to us from down there."

He's so damn cocky.

"At some point, they may develop the technology of ladders," Zen points out. "And we will not be able to stop them all???the guards probably know secret ways in and out as well."

"You scared?" Cowboy drawls, in a way that strongly implies he is not.

"Alright," Tore interjects. "We came here to get the girl, not to depose the sheriff. Let's just leave."

"Inadvisable, sir." It's Elias who speaks. Everyone, including me, seems to be surprised he is here.

"Why's that?"

"Mattias and I were down with the crowd earlier. It isn't believed that Trissa killed the sheriff. They believe you did. They are unhappy, because their democratic leader has been ousted without them having a chance to vote."

Pharaoh snorts. "They used to vote?"

"Yes, sir," Elias murmurs. "There was only the one candidate, so the sheriff got one hundred percent of the votes, but it made the people feel good to imagine they had some say in the outcome."

"That's fucking stupid," Cowboy snorts.

Nobody disagrees with him.

"So we have a choice," Keanau says. "We can take Trissa and run. Or, we can stay here, and see if we can't convince the crowd to accept us."

"Diplomacy isn't exactly our strong suit," Alexios smirks.

These men came to take me for their own, but I have thrust them into more danger than they have ever faced. A mob is far more brutal and terrifying than any wild animal, single man, or even an army. An army is more disciplined and better armed, but it is under command. There is rationality to it. A mob is all the worst and most vicious traits of humanity turned into a seething, screaming bestial mass that doesn't care about reason or logic. It just wants blood.

"We're going to have to talk to them," Tore says. "Try to calm them down."

Tore has a brutal elegance about him. He is the tallest of all the men and there's something about that pale gaze and the cold lines of his handsome face that does have potential for charisma.

"Mattias, Elias, do you two know how to set up the system so we can address the crowd?"

"Who is going to do it?" Zen asks.

"Who can talk the dick off a donkey?" Cowboy smirks.

They all look at Tore. Apparently he has a reputation for the gift of speech.