Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lab Monkey ❯ Stunning Duplicity ( Chapter 26 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ

 

Welcome to the beginning of the end…

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

Stunning Duplicity

 

Vegeta felt like his flesh was going to fall off in thick, wet slices. Blood trickled down his arms and sides, plastering the remaining shreds of his skin to his back. His tunic was long gone, torn apart by the whip that lashed him mercilessly. Magically, he managed to retain his arm cuff and medallion, but only after enduring hours of punishment by his lizard masters. In the end it had been worth it. Even though he swore not to be torn from Bulma's side, the insight he had gained was invaluable.

 

Frieza was disturbed. During his battle on Namek he had become unhinged. King Cold was doing his best to hide his son's instability, but his actions were only making the problem more obvious. Vegeta's punishment session had been designed to draw Frieza out of his self-imposed shell, but even the sight of blood did nothing to stir the tyrant. Vegeta was thankful for that, but even he felt the slight chill of Frieza's sightless gaze. Grim satisfaction wove its way through him. The Cold Empire was on the brink of destruction, now if only he could find a way to exploit that weakness.

 

Vegeta tapped the door code to his quarters, entering with a heavy sigh of relief. Unable to bear the thought of Bulma being alone any longer he had come straight to her instead of stopping at the Regeneration Room. His wounds were severe, but his Saiyan metabolism would heal them in a matter of hours. The pain was well worth the cost of putting his mind at ease.

 

He lifted his head, expecting to see Bulma rushing towards him with concern shining in her eyes. Instead, the first thing he saw was the triumphant gaze of Zarbon as he stood behind the couch, his hand leisurely trailing through Bulma's blue tresses that fell like a waterfall from his fingertips. Her hair was loose from her intricate twist, tendrils twining around her seemingly passion-flushed face.

 

Vegeta's eyes scaled down hurriedly, expecting to find her bloodied and abused, however he couldn't be more wrong. She reclined on the couch, her body relaxed, her face serene. Delicately she sipped from a crystal flute with graceful ease, completely at home in her surroundings, with his blood-enemy caressing her intimately.

 

“What…?” He meant to choke out so much more but he couldn't find the words. His usual insults were lost in the barrage of his thoughts.

 

“I'm just enjoying a drink with Bulma here.” Zarbon smiled coyly, his predatory gaze never leaving Vegeta's face.

 

Bulma? Vegeta shot a look back at her disbelievingly. Since when did Zarbon call her Bulma? Since when did she sit so calmly under the touch of the man who tortured her?

 

“We've been having the most delightful little talk. I wanted to know what made you so wicked.” Zarbon's insinuating tone and childlike voice sent shivers down Vegeta's spine. He felt blood cooling on his back, and the burn of the whip marks as he stood there rejecting what his eyes told him.

 

“She had many interesting things to say. Like how you came to her world to destroy it. How you murdered all her friends. How you stole her away from her family.” Zarbon paused, taking in the impact of his words. Vegeta remained uncharacteristically stunned, as though he had been betrayed on some deep, primal level, something Zarbon thought the prince was incapable of.

 

“How you've sworn to take her life when you are done using her,” Zarbon whispered, his voice silk on stone, soft snagging on rough.

 

Vegeta's eyes widened before narrowing. He couldn't tear his eyes from Bulma, willing her to glance up at him, and dismiss Zarbon's words with a single look---willing her not to betray him with his enemy.

 

Slowly, Bulma lifted her head, her body tranquil, her face remote. Her motions were deliberate, detached and hurtful. She centered her eyes squarely on her lover, disdain written clearly on every feature. Even the depths of her fiery gaze were icy as she looked upon him, freezing his newborn heart cold.

 

Bulma held herself still, forcing every muscle in her body to obey her. Inside, she could feel her heart shattering. The pieces flew around inside her like a whirlwind, sharp shards of shrapnel slashing her innards and cutting her soul. She couldn't possibly survive this moment. Her heart was going to burst from her chest, killing her in agony if she looked at Vegeta one more moment, if she had to endure his heartache for another second. His look shouted betrayal right before he shuttered it away behind his silent hate.

 

She wanted to leap up from the couch, and run to him---to scream that it was all a lie, not to believe a word that was said. She wanted to shuck her skin, to free her soul from the shackles of her flesh so she could seep into his pores and into the hollow spaces of his heart. She never wanted to leave him.

 

“Well, my dear, are you ready?” Zarbon slinked around the couch, stopping before her with his hand out. Without breaking her gaze with Vegeta, she placed her hand into his enemy's outstretched palm, accepting his embrace. She rose gracefully, coolly, a cold wind on a summer day.

 

Vegeta took a step forward, his face murderous, his body lethal. Power swirled around him, dark and deadly, snapping and seething. He was a storm to her tranquility.

 

“You're not going anywhere,” he spat at her, his intent at stopping them both clear.

 

Zarbon moved before her, shielding her from the wrath of her lover, laughing in the face of his enemy. He clucked in concern, his face drawn with mock sadness.

 

“Now, now, Vegeta. Do you really think you can stop us in that condition?”

 

Vegeta's fists clenched, his jaw tightened. He took another step forward, hate wafting off him in waves. Bulma's heart clenched in response to his anger, to the agony he must be feeling over her betrayal. Blood was dripping down his bare arms, and was smeared across his muscular chest. Drops splattered the beautiful gold and platinum arm band that wrapped around his bulging bicep, blood and conquest, an embodiment of everything that was Saiyan. She could taste the bitter copper in the air, leaving her to wonder how he kept standing. The dark hollows under his eyes, and the sickly sweat on his face told her without words that she was making the right choice. Even if it was killing her.

 

“I can and I will, Zarbon,” Vegeta swore, mindless of the danger.

 

Zarbon smiled indulgently, the corner of his lips curling with amusement, but the gaiety of his demeanor didn't warm the coldness of his eyes. He rocked forward on his toes, intent on sharing a secret with the fallen prince.

 

“Do you think you'll survive?” Zarbon paused, waiting for his words to sink in. “Frieza is unhinged, the Cold family is in turmoil. Do you think your order of protection stands?”

 

Vegeta remained still under the mocking gaze of his enemy. What Zarbon said was true. Many times in his past he had tried to provoke a fight that would end in his demise, an honorable, Saiyan way to die, but he had always been thwarted. No one dare land the killing blow for fear of Frieza's retribution, but now all that changed. Now he was free to die like had wanted to so many times in the past. The only problem was, now he didn't want to.

 

All he wanted was to live long enough to kill her.

 

Vegeta's piercing raven eyes skimmed passed Zarbon, dismissing him as unimportant to the drama that was unfolding around him. They landed on Bulma, crushing her with the weight of his hate and disgust. She felt a little bit of her soul shrivel, dying under his intense look of loathing. She fought to stand straight, to bear the blunt of his hate. She told herself that it was for the best. She told herself that she loved him, even if he didn't love her.

 

Disgruntled that he had lost Vegeta's attention so abruptly, Zarbon struggled to regain it.

 

“You know I'm the better warrior. Stronger, quicker, more deadly,” Zarbon taunted, but Vegeta barely gave his words the attention they deserved. Instead he was locked in a mental battle with his former lover.

 

The one person he thought would never betray him.

 

When had he drawn that conclusion? When had the inevitability of her disloyalty changed into what he thought was her undying affection? When he saved her from the trader? From the purge? From the poison that ravaged her body?

 

Was it the first time that he touched her? When he slid his hand between her legs and felt her heat? Was that when she seduced him? When she cast her spell on him? Or had it been all the way back in the beginning when he paced his cell, looking for a way out and only seeing the brightness of her soul and the beauty of her smile. Is that when he had been lost?

 

How wrong he had been. He, the royal prince of Vegeta-sei had thought himself too clever to fall for the tricks of a single woman, but here he stood. He had been willing to lay everything at her feet. His jewels, his blood, even his trust, just for a taste from her lips, and now she was going to walk out the door with his enemy as if nothing ever happened between them.

 

The bitch was going to pay.

 

But not here, not now. Zarbon was right. As much as it bruised his pride, he still wasn't strong enough to defeat Frieza's bodyguard. If he engaged Zarbon now there was a chance that he would be defeated, that she would be able to walk away from her treachery unscathed. That was something he dared not risk. Her punishment was paramount to his pride. Perhaps very soon that day would come to pass when he would be able to crush Zarbon. And when it did he would tear the green freak limb from limb, but before that day came, he would have his chance at Bulma.

 

He would feel her last breath on his cheek, and her hot blood splashing on his hands. He would be there when the light of life died from her eyes, and he would laugh while it did.

 

Wordlessly, Vegeta stepped aside, surprising everyone in the room. Slowly Zarbon moved forward, twisting his body so not to give Vegeta his back. He couldn't believe the prideful prince was going to let them leave without raising a fist to stop them. The entire point of the exercise was to see if he could goad the prince into a fight. To see how hard he would fight to keep the woman.

 

The look in Vegeta's eyes sent slings of agony through her heart. She was destroyed. Vegeta's love for her had turned to hate in the single endless moment. She would never be able to recapture the love she had felt with him. She would never see the hidden man inside the murderer that she had glimpsed on a rare occasion. Instead all she could see was the cold warrior who purged worlds and killed billions. Prince Vegeta was back, and he would never be exorcised again.

 

She exited the room with Zarbon, fighting to keep her tears at bay. She couldn't believe what she had just done. Was sacrificing her heart, and Vegeta's soul really worth saving his life? Would it have been better to watch him die, to lie down beside him in blood, than to see result of her actions written in the wounds of his eyes?

 

To save him, she had betrayed him, but in reality had she just condemned them both to a living hell?

 

Zarbon's words rang inside her head. He had come to Vegeta's quarters to kill him. To destroy the man who dared to humiliate him in front of his peers. Cold certainty had covered her body in a sweat as she looked at the man who stood before her. He was her death, as certain as the sun would rise and a new day dawn, he was the man who was going to kill her.

 

She ran, he caught, she fought, he subdued. She was certain that it was the end, that he would rape her, kill her, and leave her in her own blood for Vegeta to find. She cried out her savior's name, hoping against hope that he would hear her, that he would save her once again. He didn't come, but he did save her---one last time

 

Now it was her turn to do the same.

 

Upon hearing his enemy's name Zarbon paused, calculation and maliciousness brightening his eyes. Humiliation, he decided was its own painful death. At the party Bulma had been announced to everyone as Vegeta's consort. The one he wished to share his life with. How deliciously torturous would it be, if she agreed to become Zarbon's paramour instead? To turn her back on Vegeta, to taunt her lover with the knowledge that she betrayed him with his worst enemy. How destroyed would the prideful prince be?

 

It was then a dreadful bargain was struck. In return for Vegeta's life, she was to play the deceitful whore.

 

Zarbon knew their secret. The secret of who she was, of what she was, of where Vegeta had been all this time. If King Cold or Frieza found out that Vegeta had been associating with humans, no matter how unwilling, he would die. Of this she was certain.

 

If Vegeta tried to stop Zarbon from talking then he would die. If Zarbon told the Colds, then he would die. There was no escaping the inevitable, there was only manipulating it.

 

She knew Zarbon was stronger than Vegeta. She didn't listen to the boastful words that dripped from the snake's tongue, but she instead, to what Vegeta hadn't said when he spoke of Zarbon.

 

Before the party, Vegeta told her of the coo that Zarbon and Cooler were planning. His words were plain, his mind analytical, but she could hear the hint of concern behind them. Zarbon was a enemy that Vegeta hated, someone he wished to kill, but could not. Like Frieza, Zarbon was too powerful to defeat. Instead Vegeta had to dance around them both, struggling to stay alive long enough to destroy them.

 

With that single thought, she set her heart and mind to double-crossing Vegeta. To betray him long enough that he could reach his goal. So he could survive to kill those who enslaved him. She may break his heart, but in the end, hopefully she could help free his body and mind.

 

She followed Zarbon blindly, barely noticing as the entered his rooms. As part of the bargain she claimed the right to see Vegeta at least once a day to be sure that he hadn't been killed or thrown into a cell, in return, during those moments she must pretend that she was fully in lust with Zarbon.

 

One moment of bliss, one moment of agony, all rolled into one.

 

She paused as she realized she was standing in the middle of a suite of decadently decorated rooms. Gold trim danced along the walls, red carpet pillowed her feet, and baroque style chairs sat before her.

 

Zarbon turned, his fingers latching around her wrists to pull her to his chest. His lips descended towards hers, but she quickly twisted away with a snort of disgust.

 

“Put one foul paw on me, and I will tell Frieza about your partnership with Cooler.”

 

Zarbon drew back in surprise, his mouth pursed into a moue of astonishment.

 

“What do you know of it?” he asked with a disbelieving snort.

 

“What I know or don't know isn't a question. It's a seed of truth, and all it needs is to be planted.” Bulma turned to face him, her eyes narrowed into slivers of blue ice. Now that she had gotten Zarbon from Vegeta's room she could play her full hand safely.

 

“It's of no importance. No one will believe the slut of Vegeta,” Zarbon scoffed confidently. His smile wilted off his face when he caught sight of Bulma's cold, calculating smile. Now the reason for her betrayal could be revealed.

 

“That is true, but I am not Vegeta's slut. I am your paramour. Everyone is going to believe that I detest Vegeta with all my heart. After all, why else would I betray him to be with you?” She turned away with a leisurely shrug, taking in her surroundings.

 

After a few steps of distance between them she looked back at Zarbon, her finger tracing over the back of a nearby chair.

 

“All I have to do is let the little secret slip.” She placed a bemused finger at her chin, her eyes batting innocently. “After all, everyone knows that the words of a well-sated man while in bed with a beautiful woman, are the most truthful.”

 

“You fucking bitch,” he snarled, advancing on her with his fist raised.

 

She scrambled away quickly, toppling the chair between them.

 

“Kill me and Vegeta will tear apart this ship, destroying everything that you hold dear,” she cried in a rush, her eyes wide with fright.

 

He paused, his lips curling in blatant amusement. “Still clinging to what you don't have, little girl? You destroyed all hope of Vegeta ever coming to your rescue.” He laughed heartily at her stricken look and wide eyes. “Do you actually think that he loves you that much, even now? That he'll risk everything just to avenge you?”

 

Bulma straightened her spine, and set her shoulders confidently. Her blue eyes flashed as she met his gaze steadily.

 

“I know he doesn't, but I do know that he places value on my death.” Her words were a death knell in the quiet room. They were spoken with the whispered solemnity of a mausoleum. “You see, he has already claimed my death. He owns it, as surely as he owns his boots. The blood, the violence, my last gasping breath on his lips.”

 

She paused, shuddering delicately before lifting her chin with pride that she didn't feel. The burning heat of Vegeta's scorn was seared into her mind as she had walked out the door. She knew the reason that he let them pass without a fight. She saw the determination in Vegeta's look, the absolute certainty that he would be claiming her last breath very soon.

 

“Even now he is furious, more than likely plotting to kill me at his next chance,' she vowed with a certainty that chilled even Zarbon's blood.

 

“I can see him wanting to murder you. Especially after you so callously left him, but to wreck so much havoc in the name of your death. I find that hard to believe.” Zarbon's words were mocking, but inside he felt a tremble of indecision.

 

“Not in the name of my death, not in revenge, but for pride. If my death is stolen from him then he would have no choice but to seek retribution against you, no matter the cost.”

 

Zarbon inhaled sharply, drawing his body away from her. Her words rang with a truth that could not be denied. There was one thing that every single soldier on the ship knew to be a fact. Vegeta loved his pride more than he loved his own life.

 

“You know Vegeta, perhaps better than I. He is no delicate creature to go plotting your death silently. His rage would rock the entire ship. Every eye would be drawn to him, and even if he is defeated, I have no doubt that your secret will be revealed. Frieza's rage will be doubled not only by the death of his favorite toy, but by your deceit.” Bulma completed her speech with her head held high, and victory shinning in her eyes.

 

Zarbon eyed her with disgust, anger curling his lips into a sneer. She was right of course. She may have won the battle, but the war was only just beginning. Her words stayed his hand from her soft flesh, but he still could use her as a weapon against Vegeta. Tomorrow would be just the beginning. He couldn't wait to parade his new prize through the halls, reconfirming to everyone in sight, that he was indeed the superior male.

 

“You may sleep on the floor,” Zarbon announced with as much pride as possible. With his nose in the air, he turned on his heel, sweeping into the other room, leaving Bulma alone in the dark, with only her regrets for company.