41
	When her guards dragged the mouse into the common room, Melissa recognized her former prisoner from the rebel camp at once.  The little murderess had lost her collar, and most of her hair, but her face was unmistakable.  She was unconscious and there was blood on her muzzle and deep scratches on her arms and neck to show how she must have struggled.  Melissa couldn't help smiling a little at the sight of it, and she planned to add her own marks before Marcus took her away.
	“Put her down on the table, and make sure you tie her arms.  She doesn't look like much, but she's a killer,” Melissa said.
	Her lieutenant, an unpleasant weasel nicknamed Splice, threw the girl down and laughed when her head bounced on the edge of the table.
	“She was no trouble after Stiger jabbed her,” Splice said
	“He did what?  I told you, I wanted her brought to me unharmed,” Melissa said.
	“Well, what did you expect?  She bit him, and you know what Stigey's like when he gets mad.  It's just a little bit of sleepy juice,” Splice said.
	“That stuff is supposed to be for prisoners who are too big for you to handle on your own, not little girls.  Tell Private Stiger that he's docked a month's pay,” Melissa said.
	“Sure.  If I remember,” said Splice, his voice distant.  He hadn't taken his eyes off Jess's breasts the whole time, and his hand crept forward until his fingers were just under the hem of her shirt.  In spite of herself, Melissa felt a stab of jealousy.  The mouse on the table was fat and ordinary, but because she had large breasts the males flocked to her.  Melissa couldn't remember how many lovers she had lost to the Houses over the years.
	“Another inch and I'll cut your fingers off one at a time,” she said.
	Splice jerked his hand away and took a step back, but his gaze never wavered until she hit him.
	“What about Marcus?  Is the stupid bastard still okay?  Did he give you any instructions?” she said.
	“He's alive, as far as I know.  His boy should be with him now,” Splice said.
	“And?” she said.
	“And I don't know.  You're the Captain, he should have told you what he wanted,” he said.
	She hit him again, which knocked him to the floor, and she sucked her knuckles while she tried to think.  If the rumors were true, Jess had shot President Keppler and there was only one punishment for that.  But hanging was too easy, and he seemed to have some special interest in the girl.  Besides, she had seen her brother after they had brought him to the morgue and she wanted Jess to suffer for every wound she had put on him.
	“Give her the standard treatment then, and if Marcus doesn't like it he only has himself to blame,” she said.
	“I'll remember you said that, if he asks,” Splice said.
	“I doubt you'll remember anything but what you imagine is under her shirt.  Right now, I want you to go and get started on what I told you,” she said.
	After Splice was out of the room, she stripped off the mouse's clothes and found an old leather collar that had been tucked away in an empty desk.  It looked like it would be too big, but that hardly mattered.  The fire would take care of any questions her friends might ask.  If the bitch had any friends left now.
	From here, she needed to move fast.  The fighting wouldn't last much longer and it wouldn't hurt to have a little bit of cover for their work.  She was reluctant to end things too quickly, though.  If Marcus was still alive, he was already on his way and this was her only chance if she wanted any satisfaction.  She ran her hands up Jess's silky stomach to the marvelous breasts and let them rest there.  Her breath quickened and she squeezed, letting the tips of her claws sink into soft flesh.  She could feel the girl's heartbeat through her fingertips as she pressed down.
	Down below the door slammed and Stiger shouted up to her, excitement garbling his words.  It didn't matter anyway.  There was only one person who would be coming to see them this late in the day.  She let her arms drop back to her sides and steeled herself to salute when Marcus came through the door.  He looked down at her prisoner and she could already see the bulge in his pants.  When he looked back up, his expression was grim.
	“I did ask you to bring her straight to me,” he said.
	“You'd been shot,” she said “I thought--”
	“That changes nothing.  I gave you an order,” he said.
	He came across the room in two steps and pinned her against the wall.  She felt his prick pushing against the inside of her leg and he laughed at her groan of revulsion.
	“You want her, don't you?” he said.
	“I want to tear her heart out,” Melissa said.
	“That's why I'm here.  If you want her, there has to be a price,” he said.
	Melissa felt the gorge rise in her throat and every nerve in her body screamed at her to refuse.  She had been saving herself, and there were some things that were too precious to be given away, but she had heard the stories that were passed around the barracks at night, and she knew that if she didn't give him what he wanted, he would take it instead.  She shut her eyes so she wouldn't have to see what was being done to her, and unbuttoned her pants.
	“No,” said Marcus, with his muzzle right by her ear “You're nothing to me.  I want her daughter.”
	“She's pregnant?  And nobody ever thought to tell me?” she said.
	She slipped away from him and pressed her fingers against Jess's stomach again.  Only this time, it wasn't to hurt the girl  The fur there was just the color of chocolate and it felt soft as down between her fingers.  She thought of her own daughter, sleeping safe at home, and sudden guilt made tears well until she had to look away.
	“I won't let you hurt a child,” she said.
	“Even hers?” said Marcus.
	“No,” she said.
	“Even after everything she's done?” he said.
	She whirled around, claws out, but he was quicker.  He caught her wrist and twisted until he had her arm pinned behind her back and his hand around her throat.
	“They belong to me, by God.  While I have them, I'll do whatever I like,” he said.
	“And you want another toy.  Someone you can use and throw away, just like that last poor girl,” she said.
	“And have to wait sixteen years for her to grow up?  Oh, no.  What I want is an heir,” he said.
	He thrust her back against the wall, and turned to run his fingers through the fur on Jessamine's thigh.  He never looked up, even when the door opened, so she was the only one who saw Richard standing in the hall with tears in his eyes as he raised the gun.