by Anna Hackett
“I win.” Masculine satisfaction in his voice.
“An important rule of the arena is not to get cocky.” She whipped her leg out, knocking into his knee. He went down.
Saff rammed her weight into him. His back hit the mats, and he grunted. She landed on top of him, straddling his chest.
She brought her stick down on his neck again. “I win.”
He shook his head, staring up at her. She expected to feel his anger, but he was smiling.
“How come I can’t feel your anger?”
“Can’t be too upset with a beautiful woman on top of me.” Then he frowned, his gaze zeroing in on her face. “Feel my anger?” His big body stiffened. “You know what I’m feeling.”
Saff was used to people distrusting telepathic abilities. “I have slight empathic senses. Inherited them from my mother.” When his face went blank and she felt the wash of his angry confusion, she felt a slash of hurt. She pushed it away and started to move off him. “Don’t worry, Earth man, I only get a hint.”
He gripped her thighs, not letting her move. “You can’t read my mind?”
“No. I doubt even a strong telepath could bust through that hard head of yours.” He was watching her steadily and she sighed. “I get hints of emotion, that’s it. And to be fair, you broadcast your anger with your entire body. I don’t need any abilities to guess what you’re feeling.”
His dark gaze turned considering. “That’s why you’re so good in the arena, and with the net. Your extra senses help you determine where to attack.”
She inclined her head. When she tried to move again, his fingers bit into her skin.
“What am I feeling now?” he murmured.
She felt his strong, bright desire wash over her, felt the echo of it in her blood. She shifted and pushed her stick into his skin, and he didn’t even react.
“I prefer pretty boys.” Young, energetic, and eager to please.
“Easy boys.” Blaine reached up, the fingers of one strong hand circling her neck. It was a hold that Saff never allowed anybody to do. But he wasn’t holding her hard, and one fingertip stroked the pulse in her neck. “They can’t be much of a challenge.”
“They know how to follow orders.”
“I’m a man, and one you can’t control.”
“But one that I beat.”
That sexy smile crossed his tough face. Drak the man for having such succulent lips. She couldn’t drag her gaze off his boldly masculine face.
“Kiss me,” he demanded.
“What?” Her heart started a crazy rhythm in her chest. “No.”
“Afraid?”
She snorted. “I don’t ever let myself feel fear.”
His hand slipped from her neck, his fingers tracing down her collarbone. She felt the scrape of calluses, and for some reason found that unbearably sexy.
“There’s always something to fear,” he murmured.
Saff heard the nightmares buried in his voice and that stabbed at her. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore, Blaine.”
He moved, catching her off guard. He rolled her beneath him, his big body pushing her into the mats, trapping her. “I think you’re afraid of your attraction to me.”
She reacted on instinct, slamming her elbow up into his chin. It snapped his head back. She wouldn’t be trapped beneath a man. Ever. She’d learned young not to ever let anyone pin her down, or control her, or own her.
He moved, and they rolled across the mat. She got her fist into his gut, and he grunted. He gripped her arms, and they rolled again, wrestling.
As they fought, Saff realized he was being careful not to hurt her. For some reason that made her mad again. She didn’t need someone to hold back. She was Saff Essikani, best net fighter in the arena. She rolled again and got on top of Blaine, jamming her knees hard into the sides of his body.
“I’m not afraid,” she spat at him.
“Prove it.”
With a growl, she leaned down and fused her mouth to his.
For a second, he lay frozen beneath her, then one big hand palmed the back of her head, and he opened his mouth.
His tongue invaded, dueling with hers. Sensation exploded through her, and she fought back a moan. He tasted so good.
Drak. All thoughts rushed out of Saff’s head, and pleasure rushed in to fill it.
The kiss deepened, and when Saff tasted blood, she realized she’d bitten his lip. He kissed her like he needed her to live. Needed her to breathe. Like he could find all the answers inside her.
Saff wrenched her mouth away from his and shot to her feet.
She stood there, her chest heaving, and looked down at him. This man who, for the first time ever, left her feeling undone. This man from a planet on the other side of the galaxy, with glorious dark skin and dark eyes filled with nightmares.
“If you want to fight tonight, we need to get back to training.” She spun and walked out of the gym, telling herself she wasn’t afraid, or a coward…but quite possibly a liar.
***
The two suns of Carthago were setting as Blaine tightened his harness and checked his sword again. Outside the tunnel, he heard the roar of the waiting crowd in the arena.
He blew out a breath. He’d fought hundreds of times, this was no different.
Except it was. This time it wasn’t just him and a battle of survival. This time, it was a show watched by thousands and he was fighting as part of a team.
“Hey, we came to wish you luck.”
Rory’s voice made him turn. She was standing with Regan and Madeline.
“Thanks.”
“You’ll do great,” Regan said with a smile.
He hoped so. He hoped he didn’t lose it and put the House of Galen gladiators—put Saff—at risk. He looked past the women to where Saff was chatting with Kace.
“Sooo,” Rory drawled, “you and Saff.”
When he looked back, Rory was wearing a wide, satisfied smile. “She’s training me.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Madeline said.
He blinked at his former commander. He was still adjusting to the fact that she was more open and friendly now.
“Blaine,” Rory said with exaggerated patience. “The sexual tension crackling between you two is outrageous. Saff is awesome. I couldn’t think of a more perfect woman for you.”
“The last thing I need right now is a woman.” He needed to get back to his normal self, shore up his control.
Regan pressed a small hand to his arm. “You need to not forget to enjoy yourself.”
He waved a hand at them. “I have a sister, I don’t need any more.”
“She’s too far away,” Rory said. “Bet she’d appreciate us stepping in.”
“I have a fight to prepare for.”
“Stubborn.” Rory shook her head. “You do know that we’ll be placing bets on how long it takes for you and Saff to do the nasty.”
“Go.” He shooed them away. “Now.”
They all smiled at him and called out good luck before heading over to talk with the other gladiators.
Moments later, he heard the wail of a siren. Raiden moved up beside him. “Time to fight.”
Blaine nodded. He was ready. With the others, he stepped out of the tunnel and into the arena.
Noise thundered around him. The stands were filled to bursting with people, and the spectators were shouting, cheering, and screaming.
Memories hammered at him—of being in the underground fight rings, of the blood, the pain, and of watching the light fading from his opponents’ eyes.
He breathed deep, looking up at the big, open arena. At the evening sky above. He tried to remind himself that he was no longer trapped, no longer a prisoner.
But the memories had very sharp claws.
Saff moved up beside him and bumped him with her shoulder. Instantly, it snapped him back to the present.
“Ready?” She was holding a net device in one hand, and her sword in her other. She was
also watching him with that deliberate gaze of hers, and he guessed that she’d read his thoughts.
Damn. Blaine wanted her to see him as a man, not a broken, damaged animal. “I’m ready.”
Around them, the other House of Galen gladiators stepped onto the sand. Raiden and Harper, looking like a warrior couple. Raiden’s skin gleamed from the oil that had been rubbed on it, his tattoos on display. Harper looked like she’d been born with a sword in her hand and fighting leathers on her athletic body.
Thorin was fighting with Kace, who was usually Saff’s fight partner. They looked like they should be an odd pair: the huge, wild warrior, and the tall, straight, military-trained man. But Blaine knew that all these gladiators had been fighting together a long time. One look at them on the sand, and you knew they were a tight-knit team that understood each other’s styles, strengths and weaknesses. When one had a weakness, the other had a strength to balance it out. That was what made the House of Galen unbeatable in the arena.
Lore and Nero came last. The showman gladiator was already fingering the small pouches on the belt around his lean hips. Blaine had seen the way the man used smoke and fireworks to wow the crowd. His fight partner wore a cloak made of fur tonight, and a beard covering his strong jaw. He stared at the crowd with flinty eyes.
Blaine glanced at the stands, his gaze zeroing in on the House of Galen seats. He spotted Galen’s broad form, and the human women beside him. Rory gave a wild wave and a whistle.
But then, the timbre of the crowd changed, the shouts rising. Blaine turned.
Across the sand, the House of Thrax gladiators stepped into the arena.
Blaine would never forget the moment he’d first seen one of the slaver alien race. With the alarms blaring on Fortuna Station, scientists running in fear, he’d raced in to fight, and had seen the first of the demon-like species. Over seven feet tall, orange veins glowing beneath tough, brown skin, and a set of black horns swept back off their heads.
Tonight, all the House of Thrax gladiators were Thraxians. Good.
Raiden turned, his gaze sweeping over all of them. “For honor.” He looked straight at Blaine. “And freedom.”
The House of Galen gladiators all raised their voices to repeat the cry. And revenge, Blaine echoed silently.
“Let’s go.” Raiden lifted his sword.
They all broke into a jog. Blaine kept pace, with Saff on one side and Raiden on the other. They moved smoothly into a straight line, picking up speed. He heard Thorin let out a wild battle cry from the other end of the line.
Ahead of them, the Thraxians did the same, sprinting to meet them.
They slammed into their opponents. Blaine crashed his sword against that of a massive Thraxian.
The sound of fighting filled the air, with the background soundtrack of the cheers of the crowd. Beside Blaine, Saff was whirling like a storm, her sword deadly. Blaine blocked his opponent’s swing, then sliced the gladiator across the chest. The alien fell back with a cry. Blaine looked over to see Saff take her rival down. She was fierce, lethal and beautiful.
Energy coursing through him, Blaine took another Thraxian down. He leaped over the fallen body, and landed on the back of another, driving him to the ground.
He let the red haze of the fight overtake him. These were his enemies and he was getting his revenge.
All of a sudden, he heard shouts, and spun. From a tunnel on the other side of the arena, two Thraxians emerged, riding giant, horse-like creatures.
The large animals had skin as thick as the Thraxians, with giant hooves and sharp teeth.
What the hell? They were like horses on steroids, and they had the same glowing orange eyes as their masters. They thundered across the arena toward the House of Galen gladiators.
“Saff! Kace!” Raiden yelled.
Instantly, the two gladiators ran forward. Saff pulled out her net device, poised with her arm held back. Beside her, her fight partner lifted his combat staff, holding it out.
Both were calm and focused. It was clear they had done this before.
But as the sound of pounding hooves increased, Blaine’s pulse spiked. If they screwed this up, Saff and Kace would be trampled.
Saff tossed the net. She aimed it perfectly, and it flew outward, tangling in the front legs of both creatures. As the animals fell, Kace leaped forward. He knocked the riders off with hard, precise hits. He left them out cold beside their disabled creatures.
Blaine grinned. Impressive as hell.
He charged in. A Thraxian with an axe was running at him. Come on, you bastard. Blaine swung his sword, tightening his grip. He wanted to tear the alien’s head off. He wanted to make the alien bleed.
His gaze met the Thraxian’s. Eye to eye. Personal.
Blaine let out a roar and tossed his sword aside. He saw the Thraxian’s eyes widen, but before the alien could lift his axe, Blaine was on him.
He hammered his fists into the alien’s face. The Thraxian went down on his knees and Blaine kept hitting. He wanted to beat the slaver into a bloody pulp.
Everything around him dimmed. There were no other fighters, no shouting crowd, no arena.
Right now, there was just Blaine and one of the species responsible for him losing everything.
Chapter Five
Saff planted her boot in a Thraxian’s gut, and yanked her bloody sword back. She didn’t stop to watch the man fall. The House of Thrax gladiators were fighting to maim…and if someone accidentally died tonight, she didn’t think they’d mind.
Spinning, she saw Blaine had another gladiator on the ground, beating the Thraxian with merciless hits. She spotted movement and saw another of the aliens advancing on Blaine from behind, lifting a giant axe.
Her throat tightened. Blaine was so lost in the fury of the fight that he wasn’t aware of the new danger descending.
Drak. Saff started running, sprinting as fast as she could across the sand.
But it didn’t take her long to realize she wouldn’t be fast enough. “Blaine!”
Still lost in the fight, he didn’t hear her shout.
She snatched a net device off her belt, and skidded to a stop. Centering herself, she tossed the net as hard as she could.
The device flew through the air, just as the Thraxian reached Blaine, aiming his axe for the human’s back.
The net exploded, tangling in the Thraxian’s face and arms. As the rival gladiator roared, Blaine spun around.
He tackled the Thraxian, knocking the axe out of his hand. Several hard punches and the alien slumped onto the sand.
Blaine rose, fists stained with blood. Saff stepped up beside him, and they turned. More House of Thrax gladiators were running toward them.
She spotted Blaine’s sword in the sand, and, with a flick of her boot, she kicked the weapon up. It flew through the air, and Blaine caught it.
“Ready?”
He nodded. “Ready.”
They turned shoulder to shoulder, to face the new wave of Thraxians coming in. Sucking in a breath, Saff centered her thoughts, her gaze narrowing to the fight.
They engaged.
Saff swung her sword, grunting with each hit. Blaine moved beside her in a blur of movement and strength.
He was good. They hadn’t fought together much, but he moved out of her way when she needed him gone, and when she needed to pull back, he charged forward. They anticipated each other, and they worked together with a fluid ease that felt so drakking good.
“Left,” he yelled.
Saff didn’t even have to look. Trusting him, she spun and her sword cut down a gladiator.
Soon, all the Thraxians were down, bleeding and writhing on the sand.
Saff straightened, easing her taut muscles, and turned back to check her team.
They were all standing nearby, staring at her and Blaine. Thorin had his arms crossed over his big chest and a scowl on his face, while Raiden had an amused smile on his lips. The others all stood with their weapons held up on their shoulders.
<
br /> “You could’ve left some for us,” Thorin grumbled.
Saff grinned at her friends. She felt too good with all this energy crackling through her veins. She felt alive and in charge.
This was what she loved about the arena. Here, on the sand, she was a champion, and her old life was just dust beneath her feet.
She glanced over at Blaine, but he was staring down at the closest Thraxian, lying prone on the sand. Blaine crouched beside the alien. “Where are the women?”
The alien looked up and made a gurgling sound.
Blaine reached out and hit the alien hard with his fist. “Where are they?”
The rival gladiator tossed his head back and started laughing—an ugly, wet sound.
Blaine hit him again, and again.
Saff saw the feral intensity on Blaine’s face. All control was gone and there was a wildness in his features that was borne in the nightmares of the fight rings.
Raiden stepped forward, reaching out to grab Blaine’s shoulder. But the human turned around, and bared his teeth at the gladiator.
“Wait!” Saff knelt beside Blaine. “Blaine?”
“I need to find them,” he ground out. He raised his fist again.
“Don’t kill him.” Saff leaned in closer. “You can’t kill him here. It isn’t the way of the arena…and you’ve left the fight rings behind, remember?”
Blaine’s fist stayed there, suspended in midair.
“Let me talk to him.” Saff curled her hand around Blaine’s and gently pushed it down. Then she looked down at the beaten Thraxian.
He relaxed and sneered at her. She whipped her hand out and grabbed the alien’s chin. She jerked his head up, reaching out with her senses.
Oh, he was afraid. Of Blaine. “I’ll let him loose on you.” She kept her voice low. “After the drugs, the fighting, the torture, everything he’s been through…you’ll deserve what he does to you.”
The Thraxian turned his head and spat orange blood onto the sand. “Drak you.”
Blaine burst forward with an inhuman growl, slamming his fist into the side of the alien’s head.