Page 10 of Sawyer’s Mistake

“What are you going to do to her?”

“You should worry more about what I’m going to do to you.”

Sawyer couldn’t remember ever begging, not in his adult life, but he begged now. He would happily go down on his knees in front of this man. For Saoirse. “Please let her go, Paul. She’s an innocent.”

Paul nodded, his blue gaze wistful. “I wish I could, Jake, I wish I could. But I fear we have not been completely honest with you. When we said the aliens had never been back to Cambrai … that wasn’t strictly true. The fact is, they come every three weeks. We’ve been giving them small sacrifices. Never one of our own, of course.”

“Sacrifices? Are you insane? You can’t do this!” Jake pulled against the restraints. He looked up, calling on every pull-up he had ever done, every press-up, but the metal bar over his arms held firm. He cursed his idiocy, which was going to cost Saoirse her life.

“You’ll just hurt yourself doing that, Jake. Keep still. She’ll be here soon.”

“So, you’re just going to let the aliens take us?”

“Probably not you, no. If you look at those brown stains beneath your feet, you’ll see we’ve offered male sacrifices before, and the Remur have always killed them on sight. They have a clear preference for young women.” He shrugged.

“You’d better pray you’re right, and that they kill me straightaway. Because if I ever get free, I will come back and skin you like the animal you are.”

Paul laughed mirthlessly. “Please, Jake. Don’t embarrass yourself or me. I’ve won and you’ve lost. Take it like a man.”

“You are a psychopath,” Sawyer spat out.

He was going to say more, when suddenly three figures came on deck. Saoirse was in the middle, dragged between Miranda and Amélie. She looked dazed and only half conscious. They’d changed her outfit, and she was now wearing a vaporous white gown. He felt a shiver of unease, a moment of déjà vu. It was the kind of gown she’d been wearing when he and his team had first rescued her, Eve, and the other women from the Residence. Could it really have been just a few weeks ago? And now, here she was, once again about to become an offering to the Remur.

Paul took her wrists and tied her to a pole across from Jake. As her arms were pulled behind her back, her breasts pushed out, the nipples clearly visible. The movement seemed to wake her up slightly, and she looked up in fear. Sawyer felt tears welling up in his eyes and blinked them away.

“What are you doing? What’s going on? Jake!”

At her obvious fear, Sawyer felt his heart break into a multitude of pieces.

“I’m sorry, Saoirse,” Paul said. He looked pointedly at her breasts. “I would have liked to get to know each other better, but this is the only way to keep our people safe.”

“Paul, Miranda, Amélie, you can’t do this to us!” she cried out. She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them again, as if willing a nightmare away.

Saoirse’s eyes were full of anguish as they met Sawyer’s. He wished there was something he could do to make this easier on her. He wasn’t afraid of dying, himself, but then he’d been preparing it for it for most of his adult life. He understood how she might feel differently.

“Please, Paul,” she tried again. “Please let Jake go. I promise I’ll go with them. You won’t even have to tie me up, but please let him go. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Sawyer felt his blood run cold. She was negotiating for his life?

Paul smiled thinly. “I’m sorry, darling. I don’t think they mind so much whether you’re willing or not. As for your friend, he’s too dangerous to leave alive.”

“Jake, tell them you’re no threat to them, that you’ll go quietly!” she begged. Her pupils looked huge, dilated from fear.

Go quietly?

She actually thought she might send him away, at the cost to herself? Sawyer looked away from Saoirse and focused his full attention on Paul.

“This is your last chance to let her go, Paul,” he threatened. “If they hurt a hair on her head, you and your friends will pay dearly for it.” He pulled on his wrists until the rope was slick with blood, but still it held tight.

Paul ignored them. He suddenly looked older and tired. “Miranda, mon amour, give the signal. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Miranda lit two oil lamps at the far edge of the prow. Then, almost reverently, she and Amélie and Paul left the prow, taking the lights with them. The deck was suddenly dark and quiet, illuminated only by the swinging oil lamps.

Saoirse shivered. He expected her to cry, to rant, but she did none of those things.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” she said softly.

He looked away from her. His eyes were wet. Whether from fear or shame, he could not say. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but he couldn’t find a single word. He watched the horizon, instead, as it slowly, ever so slowly, turned pink. Perhaps ….