Galactic gladiators box.., p.33
Galactic Gladiators Box Set 2, page 33
Nero watched as men at the party began to take notice of the newly arrived women. He caught several staring at Winter’s legs. His hand tightened on his glass. Winter was smiling at her friends, and busy looking all around. She turned and that’s when he saw the back of her dress.
His cock hardened. There was no back, just smooth, bare skin. His gaze dipped to the small of Winter’s back and the glass in his hand cracked.
Cursing, he set the broken glass down on a table. When he looked back, he saw Rillian approach her. She smiled up at the man, listening to whatever he was telling her. A strange feeling filled Nero’s chest. Rillian was rich and charismatic, and Winter was still adjusting to her new life on Carthago. He had no right to dazzle her with his charm.
Shaking his head, Nero turned his back on the party and signaled for another drink. As he was waiting for the bartender to head his way, he felt someone move up beside him.
“So, what do big, bad barbarians drink?” Winter leaned over and sniffed his glass. “Blood of your defeated prey?”
He snorted. “Taskian ale.”
“That’s disappointing.” She lifted her own drink, ruby-red lips wrapping around the rim of the glass.
Her lips were painted the same color as her dress. He stared and now his cock was pressed painfully against his trousers. Drak, this was Winter. Opinionated, annoying Earth woman.
“I enjoyed the fight,” she said.
Nero liked that she’d been watching. “You could see everything well enough?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Yes, I could see, barbarian, I don’t—”
He grabbed her wrist. “I just meant did the device work?”
She stilled, staring at his face. “It did. It was fascinating to watch you fight, uh, all of you fight.”
“I loved the fight!” a high-pitched voice purred. A tall, pretty woman wearing a dress of bright, blinding colors slid in on the other side of Winter. Her hair was a waterfall of blue. She tottered on her high heels and looked like she’d had a few drinks already.
“When you rode that bird and took it down…” the woman shivered. “You have amazing skills.” The woman glanced at Winter. “Don’t you think he has amazing skills?”
“Just amazing.” Winter’s tone was as dry as desert sand.
When Winter took a step back from the bar, Nero realized she was planning to leave him alone with the prattling, rainbow-colored female.
He grabbed Winter’s arm and, for a second, was distracted by how smooth her skin was.
“Nero?” She was frowning at him.
“We have to go,” he grumbled to the flutterer.
He turned, pulling Winter into the party crowd, and leaving the pouting woman behind them.
Winter fought back her amusement. “So, there is something that makes a fearsome barbarian gladiator quake in his boots, after all.”
“You are an annoying woman.”
She let out a little laugh. “And you’re an annoying man.”
He pulled them to a stop in a quiet corner, near the railing. Seconds later, the floor began to vibrate under her feet, and the hum of an engine reached her ears. She gripped the railing.
“Steady.” Nero moved in behind her.
“What’s—?”
The platform beneath them suddenly rose smoothly into the air. Winter gasped and grabbed Nero’s arm. He wrapped a strong arm around her, and they stood there as the platform climbed above the arena.
The partygoers cheered.
“Wow,” she murmured. Clearly, they knew how to throw a party on Carthago. She swallowed, trying to focus on absorbing the view and not on the fact that a big, hard male body was pressed close behind her.
The platform crested the arena walls, and moved out over the city. Off to the left, she saw the giant spires of the District. The lights of Kor Magna spread out below them, like a spill of sapphires.
Except she knew it wasn’t all blue. “Tell me what colors you see?”
He was quiet for a second. “The District is as bad as the dress of that woman at the bar. Lots of garish colors battling each other. The rest of the city is mainly white and golden lights. Homes and businesses.” He cleared his throat. “Over to the right, I see some red lights. Like the color of your dress.”
She let out a breath. “Well, it all looks blue to me, but it is still pretty.”
She looked up at him, her gaze absorbing the strong jaw covered in the beginnings of a dark beard. He had a long, straight nose and dark brows. “What color are your eyes?”
“Purple.”
A laugh escaped Winter. “Purple.”
His brows drew together. “Why do you find that amusing? It is a common color on my planet.”
“Not on Earth. Some shades of blue eyes can look light purple. It’s considered…pretty.”
Now a full-force Nero scowl bloomed. “I am not pretty.”
No, he wasn’t. Winter really wished she could see his purple eyes.
They were quiet, the cheery noise of the party surrounding them. Winter enjoyed the rush of wind on her face.
“I am sorry my words in the desert caused you distress.”
The deep rumble of Nero’s voice vibrated against her, and made her realize how close they were standing. She turned to face him and saw he looked uncomfortable.
“But you’re not sorry you said them.”
He grimaced. “You are weaker than me, and your impaired vision makes this world dangerous to you. What I said was factual, but I didn’t mean for it—”
She screwed up her nose. God, the man knew how to work on her nerves. “You are so annoying. Can’t you just be nice?”
“I am not nice, but I am not evil, either. I tell the truth.”
“Your interpretation of the truth. Which is coated in ‘big, brooding barbarian.’” She lowered her voice. “Me strong. You weak.”
He went stiff as a board. “I have explained that I grew up being bred and trained to be strong. I knew that if I was weak, it could cost my family and my clan their lives. There were always rival warlords and rampaging beasts to protect the clan from. I live by my sword.”
“You aren’t fighting rival warlords anymore, Nero. And you’ve spent most of your adult life here on Carthago.”
“Fighting in the arena takes strength. And the House of Galen has always worked to help those unsuited to the arena escape it.”
Which had only underscored his belief that physical strength was king. Winter blew out a breath. “Let’s agree to disagree. Is there any news on Dayna and Mia?”
He gave one brief nod. “Everything leads to them being in the desert, but Zhim has word of a very slim lead. A possible sighting of Mia here in the city.”
Winter straightened. “You’re going to check it out?”
“Yes, as soon as we know where.”
“And you’ll try to track Mia?”
“Yes.”
She reached out and grabbed Nero’s arm. Damn, it was as hard as a rock. She snatched her hand back. “We have to do whatever it takes to find Dayna and Mia. We need to bring them home. They could be suffering—” her voice cracked.
Nero lifted his hand and ran his knuckles down her cheek. “It will be okay, Winter.”
His fingers were rough and the sensation left her belly fluttering. God, he was being nice to her. Winter wasn’t sure she could handle a nice Nero.
“We’ll find them. On that, we can both agree, for once.” His tone was dry.
“I want to help in any way I can. Maybe I could come on the search? I might notice something—”
The scowl reappeared. “I don’t like the idea of you out in the city.”
She made a scoffing noise. “That isn’t for you to decide. I’ve been an adult for a very long time, Nero.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “I am very aware of that.”
The air between them charged. Winter felt her belly tighten. He reached up and this time fingered a strand of her hair that had fallen loose.
Then he blinked and they both hurriedly stepped back, staring at each other.
“Quick,” she said. “Say something gruff and rude.”
That muscle in his jaw ticked again. “You are very annoying.”
Winter released a breath. “Phew, there you go.” That was a close call. For a second, she wanted to touch Nero.
“Winter!” Rory’s shout. “Come and dance.”
Winter raised a hand to her friend. Dancing was just the thing she needed. “Enjoy the rest of the party.”
Nero scowled. “I’m sure I won’t.”
That made her smile. She turned her back on him and went to join her friends.
Chapter Four
Nero’s sword crashed against Raiden’s blade. The two men spun on the sand of the training arena, Raiden’s red cloak flaring out behind him.
They attacked again, and Nero used his advantage of size and power to force Raiden back. But the champion of the Kor Magna Arena was well-trained, experienced, and filled with gritty determination.
They moved in a set of complicated steps and swings. He and Raiden had been working together on some new moves. Nero was always trying to learn new skills and improve his sword technique.
On the other side of the training arena, he saw a flash of red and cream. He glanced up and saw Winter moving along the walkway circling the arena.
She was wearing a red shirt and cream skirts that reminded him of the robes the Hermia healers wore.
Suddenly, he felt a sting across his chest. Raiden had run his sword tip across Nero’s skin.
With a curse, blood running down his chest, Nero slammed the man’s sword away.
“Distractions can be deadly,” Raiden warned.
Nero heaved out a breath. He knew better than anyone that even a momentary lapse in concentration could mean serious injury or death. He lifted his sword, watching the sunlight glinting off the metal.
In that moment, another movement caught his gaze, and he looked up to see Galen striding across the training arena with a flap of his black cloak. As always, their imperator wore a tight, black shirt that covered his arms. There were hints of his intricate Aurelian tattoos peeking out at his neck and wrists, but usually he didn’t show them off like Raiden did.
“Zhim confirmed the sighting of Mia.” Galen’s single ice-blue eye glittered.
“It was her?” Raiden asked.
Galen nodded.
Nero stepped forward. “He has a location?”
Galen nodded again. “And he chased up Rillian’s information about the Thraxians being at war with someone. He’s on the screen in the living area.”
Nero shared a look with Raiden, and the three of them wasted no time striding toward the building. When they stepped into the living area of the high-level gladiators, they found the women all huddled at the table, and the other gladiators were standing nearby. Thorin had his large hands resting on Regan’s shoulders. Harper was pacing by the table, and Lore was sitting beside Madeline, idly toying with her hair. Rory sat at the table, eating a plate of what looked like Taurean gamma-berries while Kace watched her indulgently.
Winter sat quietly at the end of the table. She looked tense.
Before he realized what he was doing, he headed in her direction. At the last second, he stopped himself from reaching out to touch her. Instead, he leaned against the wall behind her. He had no business going to her, or trying to ease her worry. She’d likely just tell him to leave her alone, anyway.
A large screen on the wall flashed and Zhim’s face appeared. He was sitting in a room filled with screens and electronics.
“Good day to you all,” Zhim drawled. “How is everyone at the House of Galen today?”
Galen stepped forward and sank into a chair at the head of the table. “What have you got for us, Zhim?”
The information merchant’s face turned serious. “I can confirm that two small women were stolen from the Thraxian-Srinar convoy in the desert just over a week ago.”
“God.” Rory pressed her hands over the mound of her belly. “Why?”
Zhim lifted a shoulder. “I don’t have that information. All I know is that they were snatched off the convoy, and from the reports I’ve received, not too far from the edge of the city.”
Galen looked at Winter. “Do you remember anything happening not long after the convoy left the city?”
She swallowed. “I was scared and couldn’t see anything.” Her brow creased in concentration. “I do remember stopping for a bit, and the guards shouting. But that’s it.”
“I confirmed Rillian’s lead that the Thraxians are at war with someone. Apparently, one of their clients, someone they were selling slaves to. He was unhappy with the quality of the goods. The Thraxians refused to replace or refund the slaves they’d provided the client, and he decided to extract payback.”
“Who?” Galen’s tone was dark. “I want a name.”
“I don’t know, yet.”
Nero heard true regret in Zhim’s voice. The man could be arrogant and annoying, but lately, Nero had caught glimpses that the man was not quite the mercenary merchant he made himself out to be.
“All I know is that this client is known as Catalyst.” Zhim snorted. “Sounds like someone has a high opinion of himself, or herself.”
“Zhim?” Galen stared at the screen. “The location where Mia was spotted?”
“It was in the Tibur section of Kor Magna.”
“The factory area?” Galen said. “Why would someone take stolen slaves there? Most of the factories run autonomously.”
Nero hated the Tibur section of the city. Giant, noisy factories full of moving machinery.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Zhim answered. “I am still narrowing down the exact factory where she was seen. I should know soon.”
“Tell me as soon as you have it,” Galen said. “Anything else?”
“I’m sorry, no. The few sources that I suspect know of this Catalyst won’t talk.” Anger vibrated in the man’s voice. It was clear Zhim wasn’t used to not being given the information he wanted.
“I’ll wait for your call,” Galen said.
Zhim nodded and the screen blinked out. Galen steepled his fingers under his chin. “I’ll talk to our contacts, but I also want all of you to ask around.”
Nero knew everyone was already doing that. So far, no one had any clue as to where Dayna and Mia might be.
“Where are they?” Regan said, her voice hitching. Thorin pulled his woman into his arms.
“All right.” Galen stood. “I suggest everyone keep busy while we wait.” He looked at Nero. “Be ready as soon as we know where this factory is.”
Nero nodded, and watched Galen spin and stalk out.
Suddenly, Winter appeared in front of Nero. “You’re bleeding.”
He frowned at her. “I’m fine.”
“I can smell it.”
“A minor cut.” He gestured at his chest.
“Come down to Medical and I’ll clean it up.” She turned in a whirl of skirts.
Nero stared at the door for several seconds, before he sighed and followed her. Soon, he walked through the double doors into Medical. A Hermia healer gave him a respectful nod.
“Sit here, please,” Winter said in a brisk voice.
He had trouble believing she was a doctor. Warlord or commander made more sense. He dropped down on the narrow bed, and she stepped closer, lifting a scanner.
“Can you read what it says?” he asked.
“No. Even with the vision device, it’s hard for me to read for too long.” She ran the beeping machine over his chest. “But Rory adapted this one for me. It gives all the results verbally.”
Sure enough, the scanner spoke to Winter in a modulated tone. She set the device down.
“Minor cuts. You just need some med gel.”
“Told you.”
She snorted. “Something tells me you could be bleeding out and missing limbs, and you’d still say you were fine. A barbarian can’t be weak.” She leaned over and grabbed a tube of med gel.
Nero grabbed her wrist. “Winter.”
She tugged her hand free, and spread the gel across his chest. Her touch was smooth and gentle, and he stiffened. As her small hands moved over his skin, he felt the touch through his entire body. Drak, he wondered what they’d feel like if she was exploring him, not healing him.
Frowning, he stomped on that thought.
She stepped back. “All done.” She turned and started tidying items on the tray.
“Thank you.” He studied her bowed head. “I am glad that the vision device allows you to do your work again.”
She looked up. “Me too. I can’t do everything. I can’t see enough detail for surgery, but I’m learning and adapting.”
He heard the sadness in her voice, buried under her grim determination. Nero respected that. For a long time, he’d been an angry, reckless mess in the arena, until he’d finally found a way to embrace his new life. Winter was far ahead of where he’d been, at the time.
Suddenly, the doors to Medical slammed open. Two gladiators strode in, carrying a new recruit between them. The injured gladiator-in-training had a huge, bleeding gash on his arm.
“Stay there,” Winter ordered Nero. “I want to check the med gel is finished before you leave.” Her gaze was already on her new patient.
She rushed over to help, talking with the Hermia healers who joined her. As the gladiators set the groaning, thrashing recruit down on the bed, Nero watched Winter speak in a calming, soothing voice to the man.
It didn’t take long before the young man had turned his head toward Winter. He calmed, responding to her questions. He finally stilled, and let the healers start treating his wound.
When Winter smoothed a hand over the man’s hair, Nero ground his teeth together. Surely, she didn’t need to touch the man that much. He got a glimpse of the man’s injury and saw a flash of bone. Nero guessed the recruit would end up in one of the regen tanks. He’d spent more than his fair share of time in them himself.
Sure enough, the Hermia gestured for the gladiators to help the man to one of the tanks. Winter hurried back Nero’s way.
