For the first time in Sekmeth’s life, catching a prey wasn’t enough. He had to make her his. Alexandra Novona might not have meant for it, but she’d changed him to the core of his Hunter’s being. He’d never cared much what happened to his preys once he caught them and relinquished them to his customers. This time, he did. Not only this, he would toil to earn her affection, her respect, even if it meant undoing some things he’d done.
Chapter Ten
“Yeah, right. Like I’m going to wear that.” Alex dropped the skimpy outfit and crossed her arms.
Lajinia smiled benevolently, which only fueled Alex’s fire. “Every combatant does. So will you.”
“It’s not even clothes. It’s a headband.”
“Granted, it will not keep you warm,” the Yithian female said, picking up the garment and unfolding it. In her large hands, it looked even tinier. “But it will take the bets through the dome.”
“What if I won’t fight?”
Lajinia slowly shook her head. “Then someone will take your place. The little one, perhaps? She would surely be highly entertaining.”
Aggression rose to dangerous levels and Alex had to take a few breaths. No use getting jolted before even stepping in the damned place. “Leave her out of this.”
“I thought so.” Lajinia set the combatant uniform on Alex’s bed. “For what it is worth, I enjoy your company very much and would hate to see something happen to you. I will fetch you when it is time. Rest.”
“‘Rest’,” Alex parroted when the Yithian had closed—and locked—the door. What? They didn’t trust her? How crushing. She laughed a mirthless laugh.
The black garment resembled leather, only thicker and more pliable. Some sort of synthetic compound. She took her clothes off and slipped the thing on. A sleeveless top zipped under an arm barely covered the essentials while its matching bottom could have been called underwear. Straps were supposed to go somewhere over her legs but she couldn’t figure them out and left them there. Bracers of the same thick, rubbery fabric slipped on her arms without effort. Those, she could see a use for. At least she’d have something to block the blows with. She didn’t even know what kind of weapon she was supposed to use. A lisk, she’d been told. Some Yithian blade thing. She hoped it wasn’t proportional to their stature. She’d have a grand time trying to wield a ten-foot spear. Alex muttered as she pulled the thick black boots up to her knees. These could easily pass as weapons, come to think of it. Buckles the size of blades stuck out at the ankles.
“Here’s hoping for a nice ten-inch knife,” she muttered as she sat on the bed and waited.
An army of attendants had spent the day on her. Not that she minded the treatment. Her black hair had been pulled into a tight ponytail, her nails polished and lacquered blood red. She’d been assured the inhibitor would come off as soon as she entered the dome. She sure as hell hoped so. The thing could kill her as surely as a Yithian shell.
Alex spent almost two hours waiting for Lajinia. How long had she been supposed to take to get ready? All a girl needed was a bit of time to manage the hair and slip into some clothes. Jesus.
Not soon enough, the door clicked and Lajinia entered. She too, wore special garments accentuating her height and regal mien. She smiled approvingly and motioned to a pair of guards behind. They fell into step behind Alex, but not before she spotted the hungry looks in their eyes. The Yithian Hunter had been right—males of his species had something with scarred women.
Thinking of him caused a stitch of pain in her chest. The memory of his mouth over her face, his hands in her hair. Alex swallowed hard. He’d taken her almost to the point of no return but left her dangling there, unfulfilled, needy. Used me like a goddamn dishrag. The hurt was too acute to measure, too deep to fathom. She’d never been treated this way. Alien scum.
Lajinia led them through countless doors and porticos, up some stairs then out into Gorgosh proper. There, a wide and shiny hovercraft waited for them. People stared, some even cheered. Alex gritted her teeth and kept her gaze locked to the ground.
The craft lifted off and sped past buildings the likes of which she’d never seen. Too tall to see the end, too narrow to be real, they glittered like dark jewels. Lights in all colors flashed in a brilliant dance outside the craft’s tinted windows. Alex tried not to stare but found it hard. The Hunter’s customer had credits. He had a lot of credits. Even human-owned brothel-ships weren’t this big, this populated, this magnificent. The sheer size of the place would give anyone a complex.
Lajinia said something to the craft’s computer and the thing slowed to a crawl by some monstrous affair that appeared to be a giant glass dome, pinkish, with antennas sticking out at odd angles. A crowd already massed by the doors. The craft pulled alongside the barrier keeping the crowd in herds and floated down to the ground.
“They are all here to see you, Alexandra Novona. Do not disappoint them.”
Alex crossed her arms over her chest. She painted on an air of profound ennui. “Just give me someone to purge my demons on.”
A grin revealed Lajinia’s sharp teeth. She stepped off the craft to thunderous applause, which doubled when Alex followed. Her small group entered the dome amid a roar of voices and music. Inside, the place felt relatively calm. They entered through a door bearing warnings in so many languages Alex didn’t have time to wonder what it was they weren’t supposed to be doing. A wide glass and metal corridor led to a lounge where food and refreshments waited. Alex felt like a doll—a high-priced doll. It left a bad taste in her mouth, made her cranky.
Display units lined one wall, in front of which were chrome chairs too high to be for anyone but Yithians. Lajinia pulled a small portable comms unit out of her bustier and flicked it on. “She is here.”
Not even a minute later, the door opened and a very slim Yithian stepped in. Dressed all in black, he exuded confidence and power. Rings pierced his nose, his ears, even his lips. When he grinned to Alex, she was reminded of a pale blue shark with clothes.
“You were right, dear friend, she is perfect.” He approached, much too close for Alex’s comfort, and smelled her. “Delectable.”
Before Alex could think of anything other than “piss off”, he leaned in and kissed her. “For luck,” he said, straightening. He must have thought her murderous scowl very amusing for he stepped back and cocked his head. “And a temper, too. My dear, you will be my brightest jewel. Take that off.”
One of the guards clicked the inhibitor and it fell in his hand. He retreated faster than necessary, which made the pierced Yithian grin wider. “You taught them well, human. Perhaps I should choose another to take your place. Why risk such a gem?”
Alex’s heart skipped a beat. Kim’s spiky hair and large eyes flashed across her mind. She wouldn’t last a minute in a place such as this.
“Or I could maim your opponent, protect my investment. Mmm.”
With one last hungry look for her, he left. Lajinia dusted some imaginary lint from Alex’s arm. “Drokesh does not give praise lightly or freely.”
Great. He could wait in line. Alex nodded and balled both fists. With the thing off, she could entertain all the murderous thoughts she wanted. “How long?”
“Half a standard hour. Drokesh must stoke the crowd before you can be let in.” As if struggling against herself, Lajinia leaned closer. “The fight is to first blood. Strike hard and fast. If you lose, your opponent will acquire you.”
Things are just getting better and better. Alex nodded.
A roar of cheer rose somewhere over her head. Thunderous applause, some clear voice making an announcement then deafening silence. Alex sat up straighter. The door to the lounge opened and two guards stepped in. Both wore stunners in plain view on their belts.
“You enter first, then your opponent.”
She adjusted the thick rubber-like bustier, ignoring the Yithians’ interested expressions, slapped her cheeks then blew air through pursed lips. She’d either go there and get splattered al
l over the place or she’d go there and just lose. With some luck, she’d do it gracefully.
The corridor through which they strode started out wide and high, and brightly lit but grew darker as she progressed. The guards walked behind her, which didn’t please her much since she could well guess what they were looking at. Feast your eyes, guys, ’cause you won’t get to touch.
Sweat slicked her hands. Could be worse—she could be an escort and be having to fight off some lustful patron and getting zapped in the process. Fighting it out in the open in some arranged fight afforded at least some degree of dignity. Save for the outfit.
Sound grew in intensity until she could make out music and voices, both raised to a deafening pitch. Light filtered in through a crack at the end of the tunnel. One of the guards passed her and opened the doors. Expectant silence settled over the crowd. She emerged in bright blue light, which made the sweat over her skin look covered with tiny blue crystals. She thought she’d emerged on ground level, with the crowd above and around. Instead, she realized the dome was more a giant sphere split in halves—one underground, the other reaching to the sky.
A twenty-foot wide strip of transparent material spanned the edge of the spherical building’s lower half. Like a bridge made of thermoplastic. She stood at one end of it, while the other hid in shadows. So she’d have to fight on this thing? Great.
The bowl was, what, three hundred feet wide and fifty deep? The crowd sat along the edge, where the dome widened, and about a quarter of the way up. At the bottom of the bowl, water up to about a third of the way glimmered ominously. She half-expected to see dorsal fins any moment. What kind of silly arena was this?
A spotlight zeroed in on her. “Enter the dome,” one of the guards murmured behind her.
Alex took a step forward and into the bright spotlight. A rumble of applause and cheers erupted.
A loud booming voice made a rousing announcement in Yithian. All she understood was “human”, “female” and “weapon”.
She snorted. “Yeah, that, I already got.”
The box, no doubt where Drokesh and his entourage sat to enjoy the show, glowed like a green fungus across from her and higher than the rest of the bleachers. The blue light made everything else look incandescent, like opals.
Behind her, the guards closed the doors. Her belly quivered with nervousness. As she stared at the doors opposite hers, she began to shake. Good god, she’d never been so damn jumpy. The thousands of faces melded into blurs of colors and texture. Alex fought to regain control of her senses. Wouldn’t it be grand to faint right on the spot? Get a grip, girl.
Another announcement, this one spoken with much flourish and long pauses. What the hell was going on? Silence settled around the place. She looked around and noticed how everyone stared at the other door. A bright beam of light hit it. The door opened.
Alex squinted but saw no one standing there. Whoever had won the bid wasn’t there to do the fighting. As she was about to cross her arms over her chest, movement from within the darkened doorway caught her attention. Her opponent was tall, that’s all she could see at the moment.
Where the hell was her weapon? Nothing broke the shiny thermoplastic surface. She looked around, hoping to see where they could be keeping the weapons. Nothing.
The crowd exploded in cheers when a tall Yithian male stepped fully into the light across the wide bowl. Alex saw the tattoos from where she stood. Both arms full of black ink work, right up to his shoulders and pectorals. She balled fists at her side. The back of her neck tingled as though someone had blown on it. Alex shook her head to clear it.
Her opponent wore a similar outfit, black and rubber-like, which consisted of a bottom only barely covering the essentials and high boots. His came up over his knees to hug his wiry thighs. His lean and strong body gleamed under the blue light. Her heart thudded madly against her chest. God, he was some beautiful! And treacherous. And a liar. A thief. Vermin.
Her opponent widened his stance and let his hands hang loosely at his sides. He looked ready to pounce. She didn’t know what was going on with the maître d’ since he kept going on and on in Yithian, but it looked as though the fight would start any second.
Where were the goddamn weapons!
Alex planted her feet wider apart and leaned forward. Her hands curled like talons as she stared at her opponent some three hundred feet away. She’d prayed for a chance to wring his neck and now she had her wish. She should go to church more often.
The humiliation of succumbing to his charms, only to have it rubbed in her face. To be discarded like an old boot. To be treated like a whore. Anger boiled in her veins, tightened her chest. Tunnel vision, terrible clarity. And all she could see was him.
“Sekmeth Meroh, I’m going to make you pay.”
Chapter Eleven
A horn sounded somewhere overhead. Alex meant to look up but saw Sekmeth charge across the span. She followed suit, aiming directly at him. As they devoured the distance between them, she spotted two gleaming crescents right in the middle of the span. The weapons!
The Yithian had seen them, too. With his longer legs, he reached them first and kicked them off the bridge. The two half discs tumbled and disappeared into the water. The crowd cheered loudly. Alex cursed. First blood without a weapon would mean this nastiness might drag for a bit.
He veered sharply to the side and acted as though he meant to circle her and attack from behind. She’d seen this move before during the “border skirmish” and expected it. Instead of trying to follow his rotation, she spun the other way around and was there first. A well-placed kick to the thigh made him wince and leap back. A rising round of applause greeted the first attack of the night.
She barely had time to dive aside when he countered with a kick of his own. His big boot came straight for her middle. She sidestepped and hand-chopped him behind the back when he flew past. If she hurt him, he didn’t let it show. How could he be so goddamn quick? Spinning faster than she would have thought possible for anyone but an eel, he struck. Alex yelped when his knuckles rammed into her shoulder. Numbness deadened her muscles. Another cheer—this one much louder. So the crowd was biased. Typical.
Alex spat at him but missed. He took a few steps back and feigned to the right. What did he take her for? She didn’t fall for it. He pretended to pounce. Alex replied in kind. Circling him wearily, crab-walking, she changed her guard and put her other foot forward. The switch seemed to please him for he grinned that toothy grin she liked to hate. With a nod, he switched as well.
“I don’t care if you win, Yithian, I intend to get a few good ones in.”
A sparkle of the predatory expression she found so irresistible flashed in his eyes. Gone were the grayish pearls. His eyes now resembled two black slits. He charged at her—straight in the middle.
Alex didn’t have time to dodge or parry and only raised her knee so he wouldn’t completely bowl her over. She stumbled back from the force of his attack. Amid thunderous cheers, they tumbled to the thermoplastic and rolled once.
“You cost me a fortune, Alexandra Novona,” he said. At least he panted some.
Alex drove her elbow into his throat and tore her legs from under him. His grunt of pain felt highly satisfying. She stood before he had turned around. This sort of opportunity wouldn’t present itself many times, so Alex took it. She spun and delivered a bone-crushing kick. He took it right in the belly. A great humph of air rushed out of him. He floundered to his feet then back a few steps. He had that infuriating sneer of his plastered on his face. His hair hung around his face and he blew it back.
Before Alex could make more with the opportunity, he rushed forward like a bull and slammed into her. Backpedaling several steps, Alex clutched his shoulders and neck to keep from falling on her ass. Then her feet encountered no resistance. Just air under her.
She yelped as wind rushed by her head. They’d fallen off the bridge. Holy hell!
Sekmeth wrapped his arms around her and they plum
meted into the frigid water. Her nose filled with it, as did her mouth. She pushed him off her and struggled for the surface. Her head broke out amid a round of cheering so loud her ears buzzed painfully. Where was the Yithian? Sputtering, she swam a few feet away and watched for him. As much as she hated herself for it, she hoped he’d make it back up. He surfaced not long after, his hair plastered to his skull, water beading as crystals on his skin.
Sounds alerted her someone approached from behind. She turned to see a small powered vessel cleave the water. A lone Yithian piloted it. He pulled alongside her, cut the motor and hoisted her onboard. He did the same for the Hunter. Somehow, spitting water through his mouth and nose really did a number to his Hunter macho image. Alex found she had to fight the urge to laugh at his discomfited expression.
“Don’t like water, big guy?”
Sekmeth turned away and angrily shook his hair. Their pilot approached the edge of the bowl where a small steel ladder popped out of the surface and indicated she should go first. Alex did, climbing as fast as she could. Fatigue was starting to settle in. Chancing a quick peek under her, Alex discovered Sekmeth looked fresh as a rose, despite the pummeling, the plunge and the wounded ego. She cringed and clambered back onto the bridge. The crowd had begun to clap rhythmically.
After she jogged halfway down the bridge, she turned to follow his progress. She was right—the guy wasn’t tired at all. He stood on the platform and shook water off his arms, all the while looking as if he’d just woken from a nap. He caught her studying him and grinned. To add to the embarrassment, he pointed to his pectoral, to the spot he had said belonged to her.
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