by Anna Hackett
“What’s Rillian’s full name?” Regan asked, mostly to keep her brain occupied.
“That’s it, just Rillian,” Galen responded. “No one knows if he has any others.”
The lift slowed, and then the door slid open. They stepped into a hall that was painted matte black. Along it, she was surprised to see holographic, moving images of sleek women covered in gold paint, dancing.
A man stood before them, and she knew instantly he had to be the wealthy, mysterious Rillian.
He was outrageously good-looking, and wore a dark suit that fitted his body perfectly. Midnight-black hair brushed his shoulders, and his eyes were completely black as well. He was tall, but far leaner than the gladiators.
“Galen, welcome,” the man said.
Galen nodded at the man. “Rillian, thanks for helping us out.”
“I owed you.” Rillian’s gaze moved to Regan, and she saw his eyes change from black to a brilliant silver.
Regan blinked to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. The man took her hand and bent over it, pressing his lips to her knuckles.
“You must be Regan.” Rillian lifted his head. “Galen forgot to mention you were so petite and beautiful.”
Thorin stepped closer, his chest touching her back. “Back off.”
Rillian raised a dark brow. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was taken. She is lovely. The Vorn will be in convulsions of joy when they see her.”
Regan’s stomach turned over, and she felt Thorin tense.
She cleared her throat. “We should get to the party.” The sooner they did this, the sooner she’d be safely back at the House of Galen with Rory.
Rillian nodded, his silver eyes flashing. “Good luck.”
They stepped inside a lovely, large room. Regan swallowed a gasp. The room was ringed by glass, and offered a brilliant view of Kor Magna.
The city stretched ahead. She saw the gambling strip of the District directly below, with its lights and fountains. Beyond that was the arena and the city. It was amazing to have a birds-eye view of the mammoth structure’s ancient stone. And beyond the city, she saw desert stretching to the horizon, where the first of Carthago’s suns was sinking past the edge of the planet.
She managed to rip her gaze off the view and focus on the room.
It was quite a classy party. A multitude of people stood around, dressed in glossy clothes, sipping foamy, multicolored drinks from long, slender glasses.
Galen leaned in close, his voice low. “The one standing across the room, examining the art piece on the wall…that’s one of the Vorn.”
Regan’s hands went cold. The Vorn were tall, with lean hips, and a thick ridge running from their nose, up their forehead, and disappearing into their thick, curly hair.
Thorin reached around her and grabbed her hand. “You’ll be fine.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Galen stepped forward. “We need to do a round. Show you off.”
When the imperator held out his arm, she slid her arm through his. She shared one look with Thorin, saw so much moving through his gaze, and then they were walking.
Galen surprised her by having very refined manners. He stopped and chatted with various people, nodding and saying hellos.
She glanced up at him. He wore a shiny black eye patch tonight, and looked almost dashing.
He saw her looking at him. “What is it?”
“You. You’re…charming.”
He raised a brow. “I was raised to serve royalty, Regan. I wasn’t only trained in battle.”
Maybe not, but she could see that was in his blood. He’d saved his prince and then forged his house here to provide for them both. But she sensed such loneliness from him. That was something her captivity had trained her to recognize. She suspected it would take a very strong woman to break through Galen’s shell.
Thorin stayed right behind them. Every time Regan looked up, she saw him watching her.
Then she scanned the room and saw the Imperator of the Vorn watching her.
She fought not to react. There was a crazed, hungry look in his eye—not lust, or at least, not a sexual lust. Just an avaricious need to possess.
Thorin made a low growling sound, and she turned away. They walked through the crowd some more. Regan didn’t talk to anyone. She kept her eyes downcast, as people complimented Galen on her looks. Everything from her tiny size, to her smooth skin, to her golden hair. Her stomach churned.
Finally, they stopped near the window. Darkness had fallen, and Kor Magna was a sea of twinkling lights. If she’d expected a reprieve, however, she was sorely mistaken.
“Galen.”
Her head jerked up. The Vorn imperator stood right behind her.
“Kuhl.” Galen’s voice didn’t sound very friendly.
“She is as lovely as you said.” Kuhl lifted a hand to touch her hair.
Thorin’s hand snapped out and grabbed the imperator’s wrist. The Vorn’s expression turned outraged.
Galen swirled his drink. “She’s not yours to touch, Kuhl.”
“Yet,” Kuhl snapped, yanking his hand back. Then the man pulled in a deep breath, his temper hidden. “Let’s get a drink and talk.” His gaze ran over Regan, like she was a piece of artwork. “I want her. Let’s discuss what it’s going to cost me.”
“It’s going to cost you extra, since you attacked one of my men and tried to abduct her from the market,” Galen said dryly.
Regan wondered if anyone heard the cutting lethalness beneath those words. Man, she did not ever want to be on Galen’s bad side.
Kuhl sipped his drink and shot Galen a wide grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But Regan saw in his eyes that he did. He knew, and he was responsible.
“You can bid on her at the auction,” Galen said.
The imperator lifted a shoulder. “There’s no need for an auction. I’ll make you an offer that you won’t be able to refuse. She will go very nicely with my feisty redheaded pet.”
Regan’s heart skipped a beat. There it was. Definitive proof that this man was holding Rory captive.
Galen stared hard at the man before he nodded. “Come.”
The men settled into large comfy chairs off to the side of the room, right near the windows. A stunning female server with blue skin arrived, bringing drinks. Galen caught Regan’s eye, and gestured for her to sit on the floor by his feet. She kneeled gracefully.
Thorin stepped close enough that his boots brushed her legs. That small touch steadied her.
The two imperators lifted their drinks, and got started with some small talk. Kuhl started describing one of the recent fights in the arena, as he pulled out a card and a writing instrument. He scribbled something on the card and tossed it at Galen, who caught it in a single move.
“That’s what I’ll pay for her.” Kuhl sat back in his chair.
Galen glanced at the card, then lifted his glass. He swirled the ice and the bright-blue fluid in it. “Not enough. As far as we know, the Thraxians only nabbed a few humans of Earth before the transient wormhole they used to get to that system collapsed. They’re rare.”
Kuhl’s eyes narrowed. “Rare, yes. But I heard the Thraxians got more than a few.”
Regan’s head snapped up. Kuhl shot her a smile that set her on edge. Thorin’s leg moved against her, and she fought the urge to lean against him.
Kuhl tossed out a higher price.
Galen shook his head. “Double it.”
Kuhl’s jaw worked. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. That’s my last offer.”
Galen was quiet for a moment. But she felt his focus on her, and Thorin’s, and she knew Raiden was also nearby.
Then Galen nodded. “Sold.”
Regan felt dizzy for a second. This was nothing like being violently grabbed by the Thraxians. She’d volunteered for this. She knew it wasn’t real.
Kuhl grinned like a crazy man, and clapped his hands together.
She pressed her hands into her lap,
and fought back a wave of nausea. This was what she’d wanted, to help Rory. But too many nightmares of her time with the Thraxians pushed their way to the surface. She kept her gaze on the floor.
Thorin’s hand curled around her shoulder and squeezed. She realized she could feel a horrible tension throbbing off him.
“I think it’s time I take my new acquisition away from the glare of your giant gladiator.” Kuhl’s gaze dropped to Thorin’s hand. “And away from his rough hands. Something tells me he thinks the little woman is his.”
Thorin made a deep growling sound.
“Thorin,” Galen said, a warning.
“Come…pet.” The Vorn imperator stood and held out a hand to her.
Regan hesitated. Then she reminded herself this was for Rory. Reluctantly, Regan reached out and put her hand in his.
He pulled her to her feet. “We’re leaving.”
She glanced briefly at Thorin, could see the banked fury on his face. She saw Raiden step up close to his friend’s side.
Then Kuhl pulled her away, and the crowd swallowed them. She was heading away from Thorin, from the safety of the House of Galen.
“You’ll look so pretty in my collection.” He leaned close, sniffing her. “And you smell pretty, too.”
The guy was more than a little cracked. Tracker. She surreptitiously rubbed her wrist. She had the tracker. Now, she just had to find Rory, and disable the House of Vorn’s security, and wait for her gladiators to come for her.
Thorin would come for her. Don’t take too long, Thorin.
***
Thorin paced back and forth. He was going out of his mind. Letting Regan go with that crud-spawn…
“Take it easy, Thorin.” Raiden squeezed Thorin’s shoulder.
They stood in a private area of Rillian’s suite, overlooking the casino. Thorin decided he hated the place: there was too much of everything. Too many people, too much tech, too much noise, and too much light.
Part of the charm of Kor Magna was that the arena hadn’t changed much in hundreds of years. There was a sense of history in the stone, and on the sand of the arena floor. But it was more than that. It was a sense of stripping away all the tech and the trappings. It was man pitted against man in the most basic fashion.
But now, Regan was pitted against a far more dangerous opponent, and she’d gone with him armed with nothing but her wits.
“Okay, they’re at the House of Vorn.” Galen held up a small, hand-held screen he was staring at. Thorin could see a small, glowing dot that he knew represented Regan.
“You under control?” Raiden asked.
Thorin nodded. Regan needed him to keep his cool.
Rillian appeared, moving with the grace of a hunting cat. The man was all sleek charm and suave looks, but something about him set Thorin’s senses off. He was dangerous, he just knew how to hide it.
The casino owner clasped his hands at the small of his back. “I do dislike the Vorn. They call themselves collectors, but they’re crude. And crazy.”
And they had Regan. Thorin growled.
“Our thanks for your help,” Galen said.
The man nodded. “She’s a nice girl.” His gaze moved to Thorin. His eyes were black again, but now with shifting filaments of silver. “She’s also a brave one. If there is anything more I can do to help, let me know.” He looked back at Galen. “No marker required.”
“We’ll take it from here,” Thorin said between gritted teeth.
Rillian nodded. “Good luck getting your woman.”
Galen nodded and watched Rillian walk away, the light from the screen reflecting on his face. “Okay, let’s get prepped and into position. Kace, Saff, and the others are waiting for us back at the House of Galen. Once Regan disables the security, we need to be ready to move.”
On the return trip to the House of Galen, Thorin kept himself focused on the task. Back in his room, he stripped off his fancy clothes. He pulled on the all-black leathers they wore for their covert missions. He picked up his axe, sliding it into the strap on his back.
In the living area, he met the others. Raiden, Harper, Kace, and Saff were all dressed in black, like him. Small half masks hung around their necks. Carthago didn’t have many laws, and beyond the city boundaries, there were none. But there were a few unwritten ones in the arena, and invading another house was always considered a breach worthy of retaliation. It was best they weren’t identified, if things went wrong.
Nero and Lore entered. Nero was scowling. “I want in on this mission.”
Raiden shook his head. “This is a simple extraction. We don’t want to announce our presence.”
“If you need help, just let us know,” Lore added.
Galen arrived, also dressed in black. His sword hung from his hip.
“Security down?” Thorin asked.
Galen checked the screen strapped to his wrist. He shook his head.
Damn. What was taking her so long? Was she okay?
If Kuhl had hurt her…
Thorin felt his fury under his skin like a molten river. He felt scales flicker along his arm.
“Give it time,” Raiden said. “She’s smart.”
Thorin shifted his feet. He knew that. But he hated waiting, wondering what was happening to her.
“Let’s get into position,” Galen said.
Soon, the six of them stepped into the tunnels, heading toward the House of Vorn. No one spoke, and they swiftly reached the House’s entrance. The doors were flanked by guards, and the wood was engraved with a flowering vine motif.
Thorin and the others waited, their backs pressed against the stone. Galen checked the screen. Shook his head.
Come on, Regan. Thorin fought the urge to rush at the guards, tear them apart, and charge inside.
Then, he heard an almost inaudible beep. Galen looked up, a satisfied half smile on his face. “She did it.” He nodded at them, and, as a group, they silently moved forward.
The guards lifted their heads at their appearance, but Thorin was on them before they could react. He took one down with a hard punch to the face, and was already spinning to meet the second one. Thorin gripped the stocky woman by her wrists, forcing her to drop her sword.
Sloppy. They were so used to knowing there was a high-tech security system in place, that they’d become complacent. A second later, both guards were slumped unconscious against the wall.
“Could have saved something for the rest of us,” Saff grumbled under her breath.
Galen moved to the doors and pulled out a small device. He pressed the device to the large lock and tapped in a code. Lights blinked as the lock-breaker set to work. A tense moment passed, then the breaker beeped and the doors swung open.
They were in.
Galen turned to them in the faint light of the nearby lanterns. “Saff, Harper, you stay here on guard. No one comes in or out.”
“What?” Saff looked like she wanted to argue. The woman always preferred to be in the thick of a fight, but Kace and Raiden had taken watch on the last mission.
Galen raised a brow, and Saff hissed out a breath. “You got it, G.”
The four men stepped inside and paused.
“Hell,” Raiden murmured.
There were plants everywhere. The lush, green smell hit Thorin in the face, overpowering his senses. The plants grew along the walls and up across the ceiling in a wild, tangled mess. Some were covered in flowers, some with giant thorns, and some had huge leaves as broad as Thorin’s chest.
They lived amongst all this. Thorin shook his head. The Vorn were so weird.
“No guards?” Kace said quietly.
“They depend on the security system,” Raiden said.
“No one’s ever taken it down.” Galen bent over his screen. “Kuhl must be too cheap to waste extra resources on guards. Regan’s down on a lower level.”
They crept through the plants, and Thorin spotted a corridor leading off to the side. He nodded his head to Raiden. They peered inside, and thro
ugh the gloom, he saw living quarters, and heard the sound of voices talking, and plates rattling. It had to be where the Vorn kept their gladiators.
“Here,” Kace whispered from somewhere close by.
Thorin and Raiden pushed through the foliage. Kace and Galen were standing beside a set of stairs that spiraled downward.
Together, they moved down the stone steps. The darkness grew, but near the bottom, Thorin could see a strange green glow ahead.
They stepped out of the stairwell and into another large room. Again, there were more plants everywhere, and some of them glowed a bright fluorescent green.
Thorin saw something move through the gloom, some sort of animal slinking between the plants. Overhead, birds started squawking.
Drak. The birds were going to give them away. The entire place reminded him of the hothouses the wealthy families had kept on his homeworld.
They moved into the wall of green, pushing through the vegetation, and moving in the direction of Regan’s location.
And then he spotted something else ahead, glimmering through the trees.
“Raiden,” he murmured.
This time the glow was blue. Thorin pushed back a giant leaf and saw a row of energy cages.
As they got closer, he could see animals prowling behind the bars. Some were big cats with striped pelts and sharp fangs. Others were giant reptiles, with large horns and spikes along their backs. There were also a few humanoid aliens of different shapes and sizes.
He moved quietly along the row, his team behind him. The next cage held a long-limbed, blue-skinned woman, lounging on furs with a bored gaze. The final cage held an entire flock of tiny winged creatures.
Thorin’s jaw locked. He hated the slaver Thraxians, but he decided he hated the Vorn just as much. At least the Thraxians were in-your-face about being crud-spawn slavers. The Vorn tried to pretty it up and pretend they were doing something good and interesting.
“Let’s keep moving,” Galen said.
They moved back into the dense foliage, moving in on Regan’s location.
All of a sudden, the birds stopped squawking. Silence fell on them like a stifling blanket.
Thorin paused, arching his head up to stare at the overgrown branches and leaves overhead.