Chapter 1:
Penny moved through the crowds of the night-cloaked open market, eyes ever shifting as she scanned her surroundings, paying far more attention to the shadows than to the actual faces of those that crowded around her. Ignoring the stares that followed after her as her booted feet moved her through the narrow byways, her nose twitched at the mingled scents that assailed her. . Stares were something she'd grown used to over the last few years.
As she moved, she kept one hand resting almost casually on the butt of the pistol slung in plain sight on her left hip, riding close to the slender dagger. The calls of merchants trying to attract the nighttime patrons to their stalls drifted on the spice-scented air, in a vast panoply of tongues and accents, not a few of which were familiar to the girl.
It happened as she turned down a poorly lit alley between two stalls. Keen as her senses were, she hadn't picked up on the fact that she was being followed, not until an arm whipped around before her and she felt the sharp, cold point of a blade just under her chin.
"What do we have here?" a low voice murmured in her ear. Her body tensed, a soft hiss passing her lips, but it only earned her a chuckle, and a slight pressure on the point of the knife.
"Now, kitten, nothing hasty. Hands behind your back, if you please. We wouldn't want any accidents, would we."
A deep breath was taken, as Penny tried to will her body to untense,, and her hands moved slowly, fingers lacing together at the small of her back, and a moment later, soft clicks marked the sudden presence of metal bands circling her wrists.
"There's a love," murmured the voice, as the knife was turned, the point replaced by the flat of the blade sliding down her throat in something almost like a caress. A lightening at her belt informed her that her captor's free hand had just relieved her of pistol and dagger, and then she felt that same hand running slowly up her belly as the man moved in close behind her.
"Pardon the familiarity, kitten," the voice breathed softly. "But something tells me you've got a few more little treats up your sleeves... not to mention in a few other more... interesting spots."
He took his time about it, finding the blades that, indeed, were strapped to her forearms under the white sleeves of her linen shirt, another riding in each of her knee-high boots, strapped to her thighs, and even the tiny energy weapon concealed in the enhanced cleavage her tightly-laced corset gave her. It was by no means a hasty search, and the man behind her seemed to be enjoying himself just a little too much as his hand roamed her body, the blade still almost absently caressing her throat, face, and the skin exposed by the scooped neckline of her shirt and black leather corset.
He was tall, and the body she was pressed back against felt hard as stone, lean muscle marking what she could see of her captor's arms. Ears laid back against her head, Penny stood still until the last of her weaponry had been taken from her. It was only then that the blade was removed, only to be replaced by the feel of leather circling her throat. Heat flared in her cheeks as Penny realized that a collar had just been placed about her neck, a combination of shame and anger making her tremble as a chain clicked into place between the back of the collar and her shackled wrists, pulling them up to a degree that, while not painful, wasn't entirely comfortable.
Long fingers curled about the thick braid of her hair just at the nape of her neck, slight pressure put against her head. "Now, we go for a little stroll, kitten," came the almost languidly amused voice of the man. "I wouldn't bother with trying to attract attention, though. Around these parts... no one is going to care, and annoying me isn't really all that wise. Now.. march. Captain wants a word with you."
He was right, too. Not one of the eyes that turned towards the pair showed so much as an inkling of concern for her state, only expressions ranging from curiosity to astonishment, and Penny knew that had nothing to do with her predicament, and everything to do with her appearance. She was an attractive young woman, in a curvy sort of way. Standing at 5'6", her face had an impish sort of prettiness to it, intelligent blue eyes framed by sooty lashes. Long, chestnut hued hair was bound into a braid that very nearly reached the curve of her backside, and her style of clothing, shocking in more elegant circles, showed off her legs and the upper swells of her breasts. None of this was what drew attention to her, however. It was the pointed, black-furred feline ears that stood atop her head, pierced with brass studs, one even bearing a chain that connected to her more human ears, and the rather fluffy feline tail that flicked behind her as she walked. Penny had grown used to the looks, though, and even a few bold souls who reached out to try and figure out if the ears and tail were a mere contrivance, or genuine, though this night, the presence of the man behind her kept such gropes at bay.
The additions were real enough, to her chagrin, though the modifications she'd been subjected to did give her a few advantages. It had all happened three years ago. She'd been a deck hand on the airship Jade's Black Heart, a vessel of rather dubious trade, when it was captured by one of Her Majesty's frigates some twenty miles off the coast of England. Unfortunately for Penny, that crew had been even more unscrupulous than her own. The male pirates were all turned over to the authorities, but not Penny and the three other women. They'd been, instead, hidden and then shipped to an underground slave market. What happened to the other girls, Penny didn't yet know, though she'd made it her goal to find out.
Penny, though, was purchased by a lean, aging man of science.
Interested in human modifications, this doctor had gone so far as to delve into matters arcane, blending science and the occult in his projects. What he was doing was, of course, strictly illegal, though not unheard of, and Penny became his star subject, and the most successful modifications to date.
The melding of feline into her body's makeup gave her ears and tail, not to mention claws that, when sheathed, were indistinguishable from her fingernails. Increased hearing, smell, and agility also came as a result of the tinkering of one Dr. Cornelius Hastings. What the man hadn't counted on, however, was that Penny's quick mind would enable her to use her new attributes to escape from his laboratory and win back her freedom.
Or, she had been free. Three years had not enabled the doctor to find and recapture her, though Penny knew he'd been trying. Now, though, she was once more a captive. A jerk on her braid snapped her thoughts from the past to the present, and she became aware of the steady thrum of propellers. Glancing up, she got a brief view of a sleek airship tethered to a thick mooring post, before she was spun around and swung off her feet to be cast over her captor's broad shoulder in one easy movement. A hand rested with unwelcome familiarity upon her upturned bottom, and when she squirmed in protest, a stinging slap was her reward.
"None of that, kitten," she was told, as the man began a startlingly agile climb up a rope ladder cast from the deck, apparently unencumbered by her presence on his shoulder. "Squirm too much and I might just drop your winsome self... and that would be such a waste, wouldn't it?"
In short order, Penny found herself aboard. A new voice, somewhat gruff, came from nearby. "Cap'n says stow the bitch in the hold, we're casting off. He'll see to the pretty little piece soon enough."
There was a leer actually audible in that voice and, to her surprise, she felt the man who still carried her tense.
"Watch your mouth, Smith," he growled, before stalking off with Penny, leaving the sound of ribald laughter behind.
"My apologies for the lack of comfortable accommodations, kitten," he told her as he bore her below decks. "Not fitting for a pretty lady like yourself, I'm afraid."
A heartbeat later, she was dropped in a pile of sacks of grain, and a door swung heavily shut, leaving her alone in the dark.
Chapter 2
Penny lay in the darkness of the hold, curled upon her side on a pile of sacks, trying to ignore the fire starting up in her shoulders. She shifted slightly, trying to ease the ache caused by having her arms shackled behind her back, but that only caused the chain attaching her wrists to the stiff collar to tighten, pulling the band more snugly against her throat. Hissing softly in vexation, her black-furred tail thumped against canvas, and she stilled.
A lead on one of her two former female crewmates had led her to Morocco, and the spice-laden night market, only to find herself captured and taken aboard an airship, one now aloft and heading heavens only knew where, and for all she knew, the lead had been nothing more than a ruse.
The sudden click of the door's lock broke through her brooding thoughts, followed by light that seared her dark-adjusted eyes. Squinting against the glare, she saw a dark silhouette standing in the door, though she couldn't make out any of the man's features. Tall, broad of chest and shoulders, he cut an impressive figure as he stood there, his stance confident and at ease.
"The Captain's ready for you, now, kitten," came the low and by now familiar voice of the man who had captured her. He stepped forward and helped her to her feet with a surprisingly gentle hand on her arm. "I'd keep your wits and your temper, kitten," he warned. "He's got a notoriously short fuse."
As she was led through the ship, Penny was finally able to get a sideways glance up at the man's face. Starkly, almost sternly handsome, he had strong features and dark eyes, a very masculine face that somehow had a vaguely familiar cast to it. The hand still wrapped about her arm just above her elbow was strong, roughened by obvious labor, yet the grip continued to be gentle when Penny knew it was likely capable of snapping her arm in two.
Reaching a sturdy door embellished with carvings about the lintel, her guide knocked twice, then opened it and ushered her into the cabin beyond. Almost garishly opulent, it had been decorated with what must have been the plunder of a dozen or more different cultures, and all the various styles had in common was extravagance. Seated behind a sturdy desk of finest mahogany was a grossly fat man, his booted feet up on the desk and a mug of ale in his hand. Small, shrewd eyes turned to rake slowly over her, lingering on the ample cleavage exposed by her black corset and low-cut white linen shirt, before dropping to the swelling flare of her hips, and finally back up to her face.
"Well, well. Miss Penelope O'Rourke," he said, his voice gravelly. His feet thumped to the floor before he rose ponderously from the chair. "You're one bit of pussy that's been hard to find, sweetling. Worth it, though."
At a signal from the captain, the man at penny's side let go of her and stepped back, though he remained in the room, watching as the fat man slowly circled Penny a few times. A low growl rose from Penny's throat as a meaty hand fondled her rear just below her tail, only to be rewarded by a vicious shove that sent her spilling to her knees. In fact, she'd have landed face first if that same hand hadn't grabbed her by the braid to pull her up short.
