Jo

Jo lay face down on her bed, body rigid. So far, everything was quiet next door and she couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad one. She strained to hear anything that told her Haley was still alive but could only detect the sound of her own breathing. And the rapid beating of her heart.

She had tried to sleep, knowing she was going to be back at work when Vance was finished. But her mind kept replaying all the other nights she had supplied a woman. The guilt was eating her alive and the images of their crumpled bodies constantly crowded everything else out.

"Oh, Kerus," she breathed softly. "Why didn't you warn me?"

Kerus had told her that this assignment was different and he hadn't been wrong. But he refused to elaborate and Jo had no frame of reference to compare the little information she received with what she had done previously. Besides being told she could bring no weapons and she had to allow herself to be caught, she had only been told a few other things. Kill the leader, Vance Weatherston. Kill all his guards. And don't tell anyone her real name. Oh yeah, and she had two months to complete the task.

It only took one day for her to realize she wasn't going to have an easy time of it. Kerus had dropped her off several miles outside a small town west of Charlotte. Her normal clothing had been replaced by a pair of ripped and dirty jeans, stained sneakers, and a sweatshirt that had seen better days. A dingy pair of underwear and socks with threadbare heels completed the ensemble. He had also refused to let her bathe for several days nor was she allowed to shave her head. She was dirty, exhausted, and she smelled. When she turned around to ask a final question, he had already disappeared.

It had taken less than a mile for her to be picked up. Half a dozen men on horses had come galloping down the road. Several lassos descended as they surrounded her, binding her tight. At first, she had been too shocked to move. But then rage came bubbling to the surface and she kicked out as they approached.

"A spitfire," one of the men laughed as he dodged her foot.

Another one, this one still on horseback, yanked his lasso, causing her to fall on her butt. A third approached and she spat as she called him every vile name she could think of. His hand flew forward, slapping her hard enough for her to see stars.

"You need to learn some humility," he said, smacking her other cheek just as hard. "Master doesn't like slaves who don't listen."

Jo thought at first she had heard him wrong. But when he told the man who had yanked the lasso to sling her across the back of his horse and then informed the group their slave-hunting was done for now, she realized he meant what he said. She had been captured and was now a slave. It was the first time she cursed Kerus. But it certainly wasn't the last.

The ride back to the plantation was probably one of the most uncomfortable things she'd ever endured. The group galloped the entire way. The lassos remained and her arms were still bound to her sides. To keep her from sliding off, they secured her behind the saddle with more ropes. Unable to steady herself, she bounced with each stride the horse took and by the time they reached the plantation, she was bruised, battered, and exhausted. It was almost a relief when they slowed to an easy canter as they approached the gates.

Jo couldn't see much as they entered the grounds. Lifting her head was too uncomfortable and she could only hold it up for a minute or so before she felt like it would snap. She lay limp and wondered what she had been sent into.

The group led her around the back of the house, stopping before what she now knew were the slave's quarters. Roughly yanking her off the horse, they laughed when she crumpled to the ground.

Jo's rage was soaring. Unfortunately, without the use of her arms, she couldn't get to her feet. Her legs wouldn't support her and she kept toppling over. This caused more laughter and insults as the men left, leading their horses to the large barn about a quarter mile away.