Katrina cursed herself. What the hell had she been thinking? She sat in a cell with a dirt floor, no windows, and who knew how many levels below ground, on another planet. A planet she’d heard nothing good about. A planet of outlaws, brigands, and whores. And a few poor farming communities on the outskirts.

She was in the company of thugs, thieves, and ne’er-do-wells—as they used to be called in the olden days.

She’d made it to the square in Asmute, hitching a ride from a kindly soul headed that way.

Mistake number one because I know better than to hitchhike.

Except that wasn’t the mistake that got her into this jam.

Nope. That mistake was when she asked a shifty-looking guy how one went about finding someone on Janus.

“Come inside,” he’d told her.

Like a fly, I went into the spider’s parlor.

Said parlor was a dark room in a warehouse filled with many men, body odor, piss odor, and tables set up for gambling.

She’d followed him, against her better judgment, because? Desperation, of course.

He’d led her though the den of iniquity toward a door on the back wall. There he’d opened the door, Katrina had walked inside, and that was the last thing she remembered.

Until now.

Instinct made her reach for the locket. Still there. Another burst of instinct made her remove it and stuff it into an inner pocket in her jeans.

“You’re awake.”

She flinched at the sound of the voice and turned toward the wall behind her. Except it wasn’t a typical wall. It was a wall composed of bars.

The man appraising her was not the man she’d followed into the little room.

“Who are you?” She couldn’t pretend to keep the hostility from her voice.

“I’m your host.”

She scoffed. “Right. I don’t think that’s what it’s called when you’ve kidnapped someone.”

He tilted his head. He was tall. Muscular to the point of being beefy, and had a shaved head covered in tattoos. Piercings glinted in his face. A sword hung at his side in a leather scabbard.

By all rights, Katrina knew she should be scared of him, but anger had gotten the best of her and her mouth.

These jackasses—the guy who’d suckered her into the little room in the back in the square, and this motherfucker—were both instrumental in blocking her attempts to keep her mother and sister safe.

“You’ve taken me to Marcomal against my consent. That means I’ve been kidnapped. And I’m to be handfasted to one of the Cardinal Few in Asmute in the next couple days.”

“Yes, so you told my associate when he put you on the ship.”

What? “Why don’t I remember that?”

His grin was evil as he rubbed his hands over his bald head as though it was one of those Christmas snow globes Katrina’s mother liked to collect. “A little cocktail we call the Persuader.”

“What the hell is that?” She lunged toward the bars and grabbed them in a white-knuckled grip. “What did you do to me?”

He held up something that looked like a combination between an epoxy gun and a syringe. “The same thing I’m going to do to you now if you don’t keep calm and cooperate.”

Katrina glared at him. “Cooperate, how?”

“Any way we need you to.”

She gasped, unable to control it. “Hell no.”

“Not that,” he grinned evilly. “Not yet, anyway. First, we want to give the governor a chance to pay your ransom.”

She didn’t like the way he said that. There had to be more to it. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Your womanhood is safe, for now. If he doesn’t pay the bounty to secure your safe passage, then you’ll be offered to the highest bidder. You and your womanhood.” He said that part with a leer. “And if the bidder is an individual, then you’ll belong to him. If it’s one of our town’s fine establishments, then…” He shrugged as if it was beyond his control and beyond his interest.

“So, now what?”

“We wait. We’ve dispatched a vessel with a courier to visit the governor and collect.”

The only bright side Katrina could see was she had time while the courier traveled to and from Janus.

“I’m hungry.”

“Be a good girl, and I’ll send someone in with food.”

“And I need to use the restroom.”

He smirked. “And a bucket.”