by Anna Hackett
Cerria’s nose wrinkled. “She can come too, if you want.”
Lore stood and gave Cerria a courtly bow. “Like I said, tempting, but we have other plans this evening.” He pulled Madeline up from the couch. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the party.” He looked at Vashto. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
As fast as he could, Lore led Madeline away. As soon as they were swallowed by the crowd, he stopped and grabbed a drink. Madeline did the same, gulping the liquid down.
She wrinkled her nose. “I feel dirty.”
He nodded. “You aren’t alone.”
“But it’s a good lead, isn’t it?”
“It is. If I can attend this party and get an invite to the fights, there’s a good chance I’ll find Blaine.” He reached out and touched her hair, pushing it back behind her ear. For some strange reason, Lore loved her ears—they were perfectly formed. “You did well. And you defended me.”
She stiffened. “You’re helping me, so I thought I should return the favor.”
“It wasn’t necessary.”
Now she went even stiffer. “You…you wanted to go with her?”
“Hardly—”
“Whatever.” Madeline waved a hand. “I need to—”
He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close, lowering his voice. “I like some sharp edges, but only when they’re hiding soft and sexy beneath them.” He rubbed his fingers over her soft skin. “I don’t like a woman who gets off on someone else’s pain.”
Madeline trembled, then tried to pull away. “I have to check on the servers.”
“You’re always finding something to keep you busy,” he said. “Don’t you ever just do something pleasurable? For yourself. Or better yet, do nothing.”
She looked like he’d asked if she liked to dance naked in space. “No.”
“You should try it.”
“I like to be busy.” She took another large gulp of her drink. “It keeps me—”
“From thinking?” He understood. When he’d first been sold to the arena, he’d done the same. Except he’d filled the hours with fighting and fucking.
A spasm crossed her face. “Yes.”
Then Lore watched as every drop of color leached out of her cheeks. He frowned. “Madeline—”
She let out a small cry, and her glass dropped from her hand, shattering on the floor. Because of the crowd and the loud music, no one even glanced their way. She wrapped her arms around her middle and made a pained noise.
“Hold on.” He picked her up into his arms.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” He pushed through the crowd, ignoring Raiden and Thorin, who were subtly trying to get his attention. “You’ve gone as white as the Naskian salt plains.” He found a couch in a dark corner of the room. A Gallian man was sitting on it, but as Lore glared at him, the poor guest shot to his feet and scurried away.
He set her down, kneeling beside her. Her color was still not great. “I’m taking you to Medical.”
“No! I promise I’m fine.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair. “I’m okay. I haven’t eaten, that’s all.”
He stared at her, seeing that some color was slowly seeping back into her cheeks. “You need to look after yourself better than this, Madeline.”
She nodded. “I was just nervous about this evening. I’ll make sure I eat something, and as soon as this party is over, I’m heading straight to bed.”
Lore still wasn’t convinced. Too many times now he’d seen that look of pain cross her face.
“Thanks for your help tonight,” she said quietly. “The show, talking with Vashto and Cerria. Without you, we wouldn’t be on the right path to finding Blaine.” She plucked at the hem of her dress.
“I’ll do everything I can to help him.” And to help you. If you’ll let me.
She nodded, looking over his shoulder. “I see Harper and Rory.” She stood. “Thanks again, Lore.”
She brushed past him, and Lore fought the urge to follow her.
But he let her go for now. Pushing her too hard wouldn’t help. He got the feeling no one had ever taken care of Madeline before. He couldn’t stop the urge to take care of her, it was built into his very being. He wanted to see her happy and healthy, and…he really wanted her naked beneath him.
Whether she liked it or not, Madeline Cochran was going to be his.
***
Madeline woke with a gasp. She was in agony.
She pressed her hands against her burning stomach, rolling to the edge of her bed. The pain was outrageous.
Milk. She wanted some of the milky drink she’d found earlier in the kitchen. It had helped ease her stomach after the party.
Her room was awash in moonlight, and she stumbled through the shadows, clad only in her sleep shirt. It was a little too big and kept slipping off one shoulder, but at least it fell almost to her knees.
She staggered down the hallway, hoping she wouldn’t run into anybody. But it was late, the party having ended hours ago. Everyone should be sleeping by now.
She moved into the living area reserved for the high-level gladiators. A small kitchen area in the corner was kept well-stocked by the main kitchen staff. After rummaging through the cupboards, she found a glass and filled it with the milky liquid.
Madeline took a sip and tried not to wonder what alien animal it had come from. She waited for the drink to have some effect, but this time, it didn’t help. The horrible burning felt like acid gnawing a hole in her insides.
Stumbling away from the kitchen, she moved back through the dark living space. When a sharp spear of agony rocketed through her, she slammed into the wall. God, it hurt.
She headed toward the balcony. Maybe some fresh air would help? But she only made it to the window before another sharp pain cut through her. Pressing her forehead to the cool glass, she felt the prick of tears. She was miserable. Alone. And she missed her son more than anything.
She stared out the window at the shadowed city beyond. An alien city so far from everything that was familiar to her. Here, she was nothing. Here, she felt like the glass she was looking through—transparent and insubstantial.
All of a sudden, a light clicked on. “Madeline?”
Not now. She lifted her head. A bare-chested Lore, clad only in some soft-looking gray trousers, stood in the doorway to the living area. He always saw her at her weakest.
“Go back to bed,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” He moved closer, his brow knitted.
“Everything.” The word rushed out of her. “I’ve lost everything.”
He stopped beside her. “I’ve noticed you haven’t cried since that day you first arrived.”
She felt the heat pouring off him, and she couldn’t meet his gaze. “What would a big, bad gladiator know about women and crying?”
“I grew up in a family of women. I was raised by my grandmother and my mother, and surrounded by my aunts and cousins.”
She looked up now. “All women?”
He nodded. “My species, the Nomi, don’t give birth to male children very often. Mostly, the women mate with males of other species, but come back to raise their children in our matriarchal family units.”
“Like the Amazon,” Madeline murmured.
“Nomi genes are dominant, so the children are always Nomi, and most often, female. So, believe me, I know all about a woman’s tears, in all their many forms.”
Madeline pressed her arm against the window to hold herself upright. “Tears are for the weak. They don’t help anything.”
He edged closer, his crisp, male scent wrapping around her.
“Tears help you purge the pain,” he said quietly.
She made a scoffing sound. “You’re telling me that you cry?”
“I did when pirates attacked my family’s spaceship. The Nomi are nomads, and we live in space, usually traveling in convoy. My grandmother, Xilene, owned our ship and ran our convoy. She was a tough, old woman and a fierce captain. My mot
her and aunts were the crew.”
Madeline heard the fondness buried in his words. “What happened?”
“We were overrun by pirate slavers. I was young and not much of a fighter.” Something painful crossed his face. “My grandmother and mother were killed in front of me.” His gaze turned a stormy gray. “My sister and I were taken as slaves. I was sold here to the arena.”
He’d been abducted, too, and lost his family. Just like her. Madeline pressed her hand to her churning belly, rubbing it in a circle, as she took in his strong, steady form. “You…never found your sister?”
“After I earned my freedom, I looked for her.” He drew in a deep breath. “The trail had gone cold years ago, but I spent several years and all my earnings looking until there was nowhere else to look. It’s hard not knowing.”
“Yes.” She looked at him, her gaze falling on his warm, tanned throat. He’d lost it all, but had found a way to survive. To build a new life.
“It’s okay to lean a little,” he told her.
“I don’t lean. I—” She gave another strangled cry as agony spiked.
Something scary flashed on his face this time. “Drak. What are you doing to yourself?”
He came closer and she held her hands up. “Don’t touch me.”
He ignored her. Seconds later, she found herself scooped up and settled on the surface of the nearby dining table.
Lore studied her face. “Relax. Breathe.”
She tried, but every breath hurt. “Just leave me alone.”
“How often has this been happening?” he demanded. “More than the few times I’ve seen you in pain?”
“It’s just stress.”
“Quit being stubborn. I just want to help you.” He reached out, his hand tangling in her hair.
Madeline felt her eyelashes flutter. A part of her wanted to lean. Just for a little while. Until everything stopped hurting.
But in her life, good things only ever came when she fought for them herself. The few times she’d risked leaning on somebody else, they always disappeared and left her falling.
“I’m fine.” She slid off the table to prove her point, gritting her teeth hard. “Please don’t mention this to Harper and the others.”
She had to get away from him. Moving as fast as she could, she crossed the room. As she reached the corridor leading to the bedrooms, another attack hit. The pain caused sweat to break out on her skin.
She slammed open the door to her bedroom, and took two steps inside. Another fierce wave of pain hit, and drove her to the floor. She stayed there on her hands and knees, fire roaring through her belly.
“Luckily, I’m as stubborn as you.” Lore’s arms wrapped around her, strong and secure.
Madeline groaned and coughed. Blood splattered onto the floor.
The world shifted as she was spun and lifted up into Lore’s arms. His face was the fiercest she’d seen it, even in the arena. He pressed her into his hard chest.
“No more excuses,” he growled. “Medical. Now.”
Chapter Six
Lore was mad and he didn’t get mad often.
He held Madeline tight in his arms. He was feeling protective, and he didn’t care who knew about it. She looked grumpy, rumpled, and in pain.
He’d never found any of that attractive before, but he felt a powerful pull toward her. He turned a corner and the doors to Medical were just ahead. He’d spent plenty of time in there before, being patched up after fights. Galen spent a lot of money on high-tech medical equipment, and the best healers in the galaxy.
He pushed open the doors with a hip. Inside, the space was clean and tidy. Lore had always thought the arena was the best illusion of all—ancient stone, sand, low tech. But in here was about as opposite as you could get.
Three regen tanks filled with blue liquid lined the back wall. Several narrow beds were lined up in a precise row, and other bits of high-tech medical equipment dotted the room.
One of the Hermia healers stepped forward, sand-colored robes whispering around the healer’s long, slender body. The healer had a neutral face, that was calm and composed. He’d never seen a Hermia panic before. The healers were a genderless species with the ability to manipulate biological energies.
“She’s getting a sharp pain in her stomach. She keeps saying she’s fine but she’s not.”
The Hermia healer gestured to the closest bunk. “Please set her down here.”
Lore did, but stayed close. The healer lifted a small, hand-held scanner.
Madeline stirred. “I really am fine. You, or one of your team, checked me out when I arrived here. There’s no need—”
Lore sent her a look and her words cut off, her lips pressing together. The Hermia gently ran the scanner over Madeline’s body. When the Hermia frowned, Lore felt his heart kick in his chest.
Usually, the healers barely showed any reaction, and they’d seen some pretty gory injuries after arena fights.
The Hermia lowered the scanner. “You have internal damage from the drugs that were used on you during your captivity.”
Madeline gasped, and Lore grabbed her hand. He expected her to jerk away, but instead, she tangled her fingers with his and squeezed.
“I was given a clean bill of health when I came to the House of Galen,” she said.
“Why didn’t you find it before?” Lore demanded.
“This type of damage develops over time.” The Hermia looked at them calmly. “It’s exacerbated by stress and poor diet.”
Lore scowled down at her and watched as she squirmed.
“I’m stuck here,” she snapped. “Everything I love is gone and out of reach. The stress isn’t going away anytime soon.”
“You need to take better care of yourself,” Lore said.
The Hermia nodded. “The gladiator is correct.”
“If she won’t do it, I’ll help her with it,” Lore said.
Blue eyes flashed up at him. “I don’t need a keeper.”
He felt a stab of anger and pressed his nose against hers. “Apparently, you do.” He turned to look at the healer. “What does she need? You can treat this, right?”
The Hermia nodded, already holding a clear cup full of amber fluid. “Drink this. It will stop the pain and help the healing. But a lot of this damage can only be reversed by time.” The Hermia’s calm gaze landed on Lore. “She needs fresh food. Broths are good for healing her stomach. I recommend light exercise to help with her stress.”
Madeline looked mutinous, but she took the cup and tossed back the medicine. Lore scooped her into his arms again.
“I can walk—”
“Shut it.” He pulled her closer, nodded to the healer, and stormed out. Soon, he was setting her back on her bed. “Stay there, I’m going to make you some tea.”
“I don’t like tea.”
“You’ll like this one.”
Ignoring her scowl, he quickly made his way to the kitchen. He pulled open cupboards until he found what he wanted. As the tea steeped, he closed his eyes for a second. Drak, she was stubborn. No wonder she hadn’t let anyone close…her outer shell was made of finely-honed tarden metal—the toughest metal found in the occupied worlds.
Well, whether she liked it or not, she had a protector. He lifted the mug and headed back to her room.
She was sitting on the bed, looking unhappy. “Lore—”
He ignored her, sitting beside her and handing her the mug. She took it, eyeing it like it might explode in her face.
“This was my sister’s favorite drink,” he told her.
Leaning back against the pillows, Madeline took a sip. Her eyebrows rose. “It’s pretty good. What’s it called?”
“It’s called Ar’bor. The tea leaves are harvested from a planet called Boreal, but I used to call it Yelena’s drink.”
“Was that her name?”
“Yes.”
“What was she like?”
The now-faded picture of his sister filled his mind. He smiled. “Yelena
was a firecracker. Always smiling, always moving, always busy.”
“Do you…wonder where she is?”
“Every day.”
“How do you cope?” Madeline stared down into the tea.
Lore knew she was thinking of her son. “You remember the good times. I remember Yelena’s smile. The way she loved to dance. And I live, just in case she didn’t get the chance.”
Madeline’s lips trembled. “My son, Jack, was born with a bad heart.”
Her face was the softest Lore had ever seen it. “You worry about him.”
She nodded. “He needed a transplant. His heart was failing when he was eight and the wait-list for donor hearts was long. Top-of-the-line, artificial hearts were available for purchase, but they were very, very expensive.”
“You got it for him.”
She nodded. “He’s my child. I’d do anything for him.” She took a deep breath. “I had a job as a food server and I didn’t make a lot of money. Nor did Jack’s father. We had Jack when we were both young, and separated when he was two. We were providing for him, but we weren’t wealthy by any means.”
Lore waited, watching the interesting emotions flitter across her face.
“So, I went back to school to complete an accelerated business course. Jack’s father cared for him while I studied and worked hard. I knew jobs in space paid very well and I fought my way through getting a job at a space station corporation, fought for promotions, and finally got a job managing a space station. I was away from Jack, but I achieved the company objectives, no matter what, and my company loaned me the money to pay for Jack’s heart. I just recently finished paying off that debt.”
“You got him that heart, but you had to give up being with him.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I had to be in space to make the money. His father loves him, and Jack lives with him. I send…sent…most of my money back so they could have a good home.”
She’d sacrificed so much for her son. “And now you worry how they’ll go on without you.”
She nodded. “I have a good trust fund set up for Jack, but…”
“He knows you love him, Madeline.”
“I was gone for so long. And now, I’m gone for good.”
Lore grabbed her slim shoulder and squeezed. “He knows, Madeline.”