by Dixon, Ruby
Angie’s Gladiator
As an a’ani warrior, my life matters little. Cloned from the same matter as thousands of others, I am but one of many. Here on the ice planet, though, I can start over. I can become my own person, have my own needs, my own wants.
I know what I want. I have known since the moment I arrived.
Her name is Angie. She is human, with sad, lonely eyes and a very pregnant belly. To her, I am not just another clone. I am Vordis, the one who laughs at her jokes, tends to her needs, and makes her smile.
I will do anything to make her mine.
But my brother and fellow clone Thrand thinks the same way, and he's just as determined to win her. Will I have to destroy my bond with my brother to win my female? Or will he cause a rift between us that's impossible to mend?
Angie's Gladiator
A SciFi Alien Romance
Ruby Dixon
Icehome Book 5
Copyright © 2018 by Ruby Dixon
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Photo by - Sara Eirew, Photographer
Cover by - Kati Wilde
Edits by - Aquila Editing
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Author’s Note
The People of Icehome
The Icehome Series
Other Books by Ruby Dixon
Want More?
1
ANGIE
Two Weeks After Awakening
I’m being followed.
It's not surprising. In the two weeks that we've been “awakened” from our sleeping pods, someone's been at my side pretty much constantly. There are people everywhere, and while most of them are doing their best to help us stay alive and learn the ropes of this brand new, wintry planet, my followers tend to be male and bright red in color.
I walk along the shore, pretending to not notice that there's someone just a very short distance behind me. Instead, I gaze out at the waters and try to look serene. Calm. Pulled together.
Inside, though, I'm a real mess.
It's been a hell of a two weeks. Of course, it's been longer than that, I know. I don't have memories of being kidnapped by aliens, but I do remember a lot of vague, long dreams of conversations that slipped away, of knowing that I'm asleep for far longer than I should be but being unable to awaken. I knew subconsciously that something was going on, and when I woke up, I half expected to be told that I was coming out of a freak coma of some kind. Being kidnapped by aliens wasn't on the radar. Wasn't even in the top ten. But after glimpsing my surroundings (and some of my new friends), I believe every word I'm told.
Waking up pregnant is a special kind of hell, though.
Not just slightly pregnant, either. Hugely, enormously, terrifyingly pregnant. Considering that I'd just started dating my co-worker Steven back on Earth and we hadn't even gotten past kissing? It's not his. At least, I'm pretty sure it's not his. But now I'm wondering about that long sleep of mine. What happened? Was I raped? Was I awake and someone stole the memories of the life I’ve been living?
What happened to me in all that time I was asleep?
As scary as those thoughts are, I'm slightly detached from them. I should be panicking, but I don't remember any of it, so that helps ease things. There are scarier things to think about…like if the baby inside me is even human.
I stare out at the roiling, chaotic waves as they crash onto the shore and think that they feel appropriate to my thoughts. They're not peaceful or comforting. They smash against the sand as if they're angry and tired of all the bullshit. I can relate. I’m tired of all the bullshit. I want answers, but there aren’t any. So I do my best to keep my head above water as the situation gets stranger and stranger.
Footsteps crunch on the sand behind me, and I glance over my shoulder. The big red guy is closer, as if daring to step near enough to have a conversation. That's different. Usually he and his twin brother hover at a safe distance, always together, always watching me.
Figures that I'd land on a planet with some guys that have a pregnant lady fetish. I just never thought that I would be the pregnant lady. I haven't ever considered having kids before, either. Now it seems like that choice has been made for me. Just thinking about it makes me all frustrated inside once more, and I stare out at the choppy waves, stewing. If I can't rage on the outside, I'll let the beach rage for me.
The man behind me doesn't come any closer, even when I pause in my walk and just stare out at the water. This happens every day. I never go too far from the main campfire and the scatter of tents that is now our home, but someone trails me anyhow. What, like they think a pregnant woman is going to go racing away into the snow and never return? It's laughable. Normally I just ignore my guards, figuring that one of the big blue alien natives—the sa-khui—have asked someone to watch over me.
Today, though, I'm in a punchy mood. So instead of ignoring my guard, I turn, slide a hand under my gargantuan belly to steady it, and head in his direction.
He immediately gets to his feet from his crouch, and I think for a moment that he's going to retreat a few steps, as if there's some sort of invisible boundary and he has to stay twenty feet away at all costs. But he doesn't run. He stands tall and strong and puts his hands on his hips, waiting patiently as I approach.
I can't help but appreciate his form. I'm pregnant, yes, but in my head, I'm still a footloose and fancy-free twenty-five-year-old woman who's enjoying dating and all that the male form has to offer. This guy has a real impressive male form. Both of the red twins do, naturally. He's over six feet tall, though not as insanely massive as the sa-khui, and muscled enough to make any human man jealous. The arms he crosses over his big chest are huge, and his red-hued skin is dotted with tattoos of alien languages and symbols I don't recognize. They don't take away from his magnificent form, or the fact that his washboard abs have no navel. His brother doesn't, either, so I figure his belly button is just hidden somewhere else on his body, or that's not how his people give birth.
Of course, where a navel could be hidden on his body is rather limited. He wears a teeny, tiny loincloth that basically leaves nothing to the imagination, and I have a fantastic imagination. I also have a pretty good memory, because I remember on day one how he and his brother strutted around naked, and the size of their very well-endowed dicks. I guess it makes sense. If you're going to have slaves, you wouldn't pick ones with teeny weenies. You'd pick good-looking dudes sporting massive hogs, which is why I'm now on this planet with guys that would put porn stars to shame.
I guess as a pregnant lady, I'm not supposed to be thinking about those things, but I still do.
He's hot. Very hot. Even the crimson-red skin isn't a deterrent. It just highlights how dark his hair is and those slashing brows, and m
akes him and his brother look downright devilish.
He doesn't smile as I approach, and I study his face, trying to tell which twin this is. They have different tattoos, but I don't pay much attention to those. Instead, I remember that this one has eyes that are set slightly farther apart, and his nose is flatter and has a scar on it, as if it was broken once. His mouth is slightly fuller, too, and so he looks like his brother, but he also looks like his own person if you take a few moments to study him.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I've been eyeballing this particular alien quite a bit. Being pregnant and unable to do much other than waddle up and down the beach gives a girl a lot of free time, and he’s my favorite thing to watch.
I raise my hand to my eyes, shielding my gaze from the weak sunlight. "You can talk to me, you know. I don't bite."
He looks surprised. "I know you do not bite. Your teeth are too blunt."
I can't help but smile at that. "It's a human saying. Basically what I'm telling you is that you don't have to be afraid to talk to me. I won't be mean to you."
He nods slowly and then shifts on his feet, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I did not wish to disturb you."
"Then maybe you shouldn't follow me?" I suggest, keeping my voice light and comfortable. "You do every day, you know. You and your brother. It's pretty obvious. I figured I'd finally say hello. Vordis, right?"
Again, he looks utterly astonished. "You know my name."
"Yes?" Now I'm the one that's puzzled. Why wouldn't I know his name? It's a small group of people and I've picked up everyone's names, even if I haven't shared more than a few words with them here and there. I've paid attention to the two red twins especially, because they've been so focused on me. "You're Vordis and your brother is Thrand, right? Did I say that correctly?"
He nods. "But you knew it was me."
"You look different. Just slightly, but I can tell." I tap my nose, indicating his scar. "Did you break this once?"
A slow smile curves his mouth, showing a hint of fang. For some reason, that smile makes me feel all breathless and hot. It’s the first time I've seen him smile since I arrived, and good lord, it's making me flutter in all the parts that shouldn't be fluttering considering how pregnant I am. "Yes, in an arena battle. I lost. My master was most displeased and had another a'ani beat my face to a pulp. My nose did not reconstruct as well as it could have."
"Ah." I'm almost sorry I asked, because that sounds awful. I try to think of something to say to break the tension, because it's clear that Vordis isn't much of a conversationalist. He just watches me, his expression eager and hungry, as if he's waiting for something. "I'm Angie."
"I know."
"Angie Sullivan." I extend my hand to him. "Short for Angelette, but that’s a hideous, awful redneck name, so Angie is just fine."
He doesn’t take my hand, and it’s clear he has no idea why I’m sticking it out. After a moment, he tips his head sideways and studies my hand. Eventually, he reaches out and touches a fingertip. "Does…this pain you?"
How cute. Is that why he thinks I’m holding it out to him? I decide to have a little fun. "It's a greeting. Like this one." I raise my hand in the air and wait. "Gimme five."
"Five what?" He blinks at me, the prettiest, most confused man on the beach.
"Five fingers. You slap my hand in greeting, like this." I smack my own hand, and then hold it out again. "Gimme five. Or four, since you only have four." Like most of the other aliens I've seen, he has three fingers and a thumb, and he's got fangs. Humans didn't get those particular traits, I guess, and we might be the only ones.
Vordis studies me, then my hand, then slowly reaches up and taps his palm to mine in the saddest high five ever.
"Now, other side," I tell him, and lower my hand, holding it out flat. This is the oldest kid's game in the books, but it's new to him. He smacks my hand again, this time with more force. "In the hole," I continue, making a circle with my fingers. When he reaches out, I slip away, finishing the rhyme. "Too slow!"
He freezes, and then laughter booms out of him. "Do you play tricks on me, Angie?"
He says my name with a slight roll of his tongue, almost like he's caressing it, and it sounds exotic and delicious when he does. I decide that I love his laugh and need to hear it more often. "It's just a game. I got you good, though, didn't I?"
"You did," Vordis admits, pleased. "But what happens if I am not too slow and I get your hole?"
"Uhhhh…nothing." I feel my cheeks heating because that sounded filthy. Filthy, filthy filthy, and now I'm thinking about all the wrong sorts of things. "So why are you following me, Vordis?"
He glances down at his hand one more time, flexing his big fingers, before scanning the beach. "I am protecting you."
I don't ask what from. Ever since we arrived here, it's been clear to me that this place is not Earth. It's bitterly cold, the creatures are nasty and dangerous, and nothing is similar. The mountains are sharper and craggier, the ocean more violent, and even the birds have teeth and look vicious. I don't wander far from camp because it's not safe. I don't swim because I see things lurking in the waters that scare the bejeezus out of me…well, that and it's cold. And I'm pregnant.
But I'm not dumb. I know this place is dangerous. And his answer is good. I just wonder if that's all that it is. "Well, you can protect me from my side instead of a few paces behind me, you know."
"I…do not wish to bother you." For a moment, he looks uncertain. "I serve only."
"You're not bothering me." I ignore the weird comment about serving, because it's probably a translation error of some kind. When we got here, the alien named Mardok gave us all translation devices and it allows us to speak to one another. It's not perfect, and occasionally you'll come across a goofy phrase that you have to pretend you didn't hear so you don't make the other person uncomfortable. "I could use the company."
Again, he pauses. "If you wish."
"I do." When he doesn't immediately start forward, I give him my bravest smile. "Please."
He nods again, as if uneasy, and then moves to my side and waits for me to take the lead. I do so again, and glance discreetly at my side to make sure he's staying with me. He does, and then we start to walk down the beach again.
"This isn't much like the beach on Earth," I admit to him, watching the murky green waters. "Is it like the beaches on your world?"
"I do not know."
I turn to Vordis, surprised. He's watching me closely, that intense look on his face. "What do you mean, you don't know?"
He shrugs, then spreads his hands. "I am a'ani," he tells me, as if that explains everything.
"Never visited? Never saw a picture?" When he hesitates and then shakes his head, I change tactics. Clearly I'm prying about something because he looks uncomfortable. "On Earth, the water's very different. In some places, it's kind of grayish blue, but in other places it's so very blue that it looks like the sky."
He glances up at the grayish, overcast sky overhead.
I chuckle. "Not this sky. The one on Earth. It's…well, it's as blue as your eyes," I point out, referring to the bright blue glow that comes from within. It's because of the khui, the symbiont that allows us to live on this planet and not let the cold (and other things) kill us.
"And as blue as yours," he points out.
I touch my temple, wondering what I look like with the vivid blue glowing eyes. There are no mirrors here, and that's probably a good thing. "Yeah, I guess we're all blue-eyed now, aren't we?" I smile at him and look back at the waters. "At any rate, the waters are a lot more gentle on Earth. The waves roll in almost peacefully, unless there's a storm, and the birds on the beach are small." I point at an enormous, stork-like creature on stilts that's wandering the rough surf on long legs. It's got a deadly scissor bill and doesn't seem bothered by the brutal waves. From here, it doesn't look too big, but I know that if I got closer, it'd be more like Big Bird than a flamingo. "Not like that one. Tiny. Hand sized." I cup my hands.
"Seagulls, we call ’em. And they're real aggressive, because people feed them scraps and so they attack you thinking that you're going to give them treats."
Vordis continues to watch me, as if I'm far more fascinating than the ocean itself. "You sound as if you know that place well."
"I used to love to go to the beach every summer. It was a bit of a drive, but it was worth it." I think of the sun and sand, of days spent tanning on a blanket in a bikini and relaxing with a piña colada. Those are things I'll never be able to experience again. And I sigh, because the baby in my stomach kicks and at this moment I feel cold and bloated and miserable.
"You seem sad. This place is not a good place for you to be?" Vordis continues to watch me. "Others are very happy because it means freedom."
That makes sense, and I feel guilty. I know he has to be thrilled to be here. I know that for all the men who were enslaved, this is freedom from masters and endless rounds of escaping death in battle. Heck, even some of the girls who were kidnapped from Earth woke up here and are delighted. Veronica has been romanced by the big golden hunk since day one, so I'm sure she's loving this. And Sam? Sam is practically gleeful that she's here, which is a little bizarre to me and makes me wonder about her home life. I'm not one to complain, because I'm alive and healthy. But… "You wouldn't understand."
He grunts. "Even if I do not, I still wish to hear it."
I study him for a moment, meeting his eyes. Does he really want me to unload? I hesitate, because I suspect that once I start to complain, I'll never stop. When he indicates with his hand that he's waiting, I gesture at my enormous belly. "This is a big problem, for starters."