by Anna Hackett
Kace wiped his arm across his face, brushing away the blood and sweat. Right here, right now in this moment, he felt a clarity he rarely felt anywhere else.
On Antar, with his squad of soldiers, he’d always felt part of a team, fighting to protect their planet.
But it wasn’t until he’d come to the arena that he’d truly felt alive. Here in the arena, he’d learned a lot—about fighting, about strategy, about people. What he hadn’t expected was to make friends.
A big fist punched into his shoulder. “Hey there, military man.” Thorin hit him again. “What got into you tonight?”
Raiden slid his sword back into his scabbard. “You used some pretty fancy moves out there.”
Kace shrugged. “I was in the mood.”
“You were just showing off,” Saff teased.
“An Antarian soldier does not show off.”
His friends continued to rib him as they crossed the sand. As they neared the tunnel, he looked up at the House of Galen seats. He saw Rory at the railing watching him. She was jumping up and down, her arms above her head. He watched as she put her fingers to her mouth and let out a shrill whistle.
Kace’s gut hardened as realization set in. Drak. It hadn’t just been a need to test his skills. The reason he’d acted out of character was sitting in the stands, celebrating his win.
Chapter Two
Rory sat on the bed, surrounded by a scatter of electronics parts.
There were wires, randomly shaped pieces of metal, and a bunch of things she didn’t even recognize. She picked up a small, gel-filled pouch, frowning at it. As far as she could tell, it was some sort of biological component, and it was fascinating. Since her rescue, she’d been spending a lot of her time trying to figure out how technology here on Carthago worked.
Once an engineer, always an engineer.
Even when that engineer had been abducted by aliens, and was currently living with a bunch of galactic gladiators. With a sigh, she picked up the neat little engineering tool that Regan had gotten for her. The rest of the stuff Rory had either scavenged from the trash, begged the House of Galen maintenance team for, or asked Galen to source for her.
Galen. Now, there was one scary dude. One icy look from Galen was enough to have you shaking in your—she glanced at her feet—sandals. Still, however badass the imperator was, he’d taken her in, taken them all in, and for that, she was grateful.
He’d given her a room, clothes, and food. She rubbed a hand over her hip and the top of her buttock, feeling a slight lump. She’d even been given a thorough medical check, including a contraceptive health implant, by Galen’s fancy team of healers.
Rory touched her tool to one of the wires and saw a faint spark. She was damn happy to find that a lot of the technology here was actually lower-tech than on Earth. Sure, it was still different, but most of it wasn’t too difficult to work out. Some of it, on the other hand…she held up something that looked like a spiral made from a glowing blue rock. It pulsed gently in her palm. Well, some of it was going to take some time for her to decipher.
A warm breeze flowed in through the open window, ruffling the sheer curtains. She should be asleep, like everyone else in the House of Galen at this time of night. But as usual, Rory couldn’t.
She tossed the tool down. She’d enjoyed the fight this evening, the energy and excitement of it. It had been brutal, but Rory was trained in mixed martial arts, and she’d seen loads of fights. In fact, she’d even participated in a few of her own.
But even after the excitement of the night had worn off, even after a few drinks with the celebrating gladiators, and though she felt weary, she just couldn’t sleep. Most nights since she’d been rescued, ugly, ugly nightmares of her captivity still liked to pay her a visit.
Damned uninvited guests.
With a disgusted sigh, she tossed the tool and the electronic part on the bed. She stared at the soft blue cover, and then around the nice room. Moonlight was shining in through the large, arched window. She pushed off the bed and walked over to the window.
The moon looked huge in the sky, and far bigger and brighter than Earth’s moon. A pang of longing and loneliness hit her. She missed her family desperately. Her mother’s firm hugs, her dad’s quiet comments, and her brothers’ incessant teasing and commentary on her life.
She missed her favorite Indonesian-brewed beer. She missed her favorite sushi restaurant. God, and she missed her well-stocked toolbox, filled with all her carefully selected and carefully maintained tools. It had been in her locker back on Fortuna Space Station…so it was probably now just space junk orbiting Jupiter.
Rory pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, like she could push back the tears. She wasn’t a crier. She detested crying. But it was pretty darn hard not to, when you learned that your planet was on the other side of the galaxy and you had no way home.
She pressed a hand to the window arch, the stone warm under her hand. She knew she had a lot to be thankful for. Regan and Harper were with her, and they were safe here in the House of Galen. Just the thought of the Thraxians and the Vorn had memories hitting her like hard blows. The cells, the depravity, the beatings, the hunger, the cold, the pain.
And Madeline Cochran, the civilian commander of Fortuna Space Station, was still out there. Still trapped and somebody’s prisoner.
Shit. No sleep for Rory.
Rory strode back to the bed and grabbed the small makeshift toolbox she’d been putting together for herself. She’d found the small, metallic box in a storage room, and it was just the right size for her to lug around.
She headed out of her room. If she couldn’t sleep, she’d damn well find something to fix.
Since she’d dismantled her mom’s computer at the age of seven, Rory had loved building and fixing things. She loved knowing how things worked, and how they fit together. It always, without fail, calmed the noise in her head.
She remembered being an energetic child, and then a pretty high-maintenance teenager. She’d always been filled with energy, and a little high-strung. Her mom and dad had constantly shoved things at her to fix to keep her busy.
When Rory had been in the gym earlier with Harper, a space just off the smaller training arena, she’d noticed one of the wall lights wasn’t working. She was going to make herself useful in her new home.
She headed through the tunnels and down one level to the gym area. It was filled with sand-colored mats, and bags hanging from the roof. There was a roped-off, indoor fighting ring in the back corner.
Thankfully, there were no treadmills or other torturous exercise equipment. Rory hated sweating her butt off and going nowhere.
She reached the doorway, and heard a noise from inside. Rhythmic puffs of breath.
She paused in the doorway. Kace was doing push-ups on the mats.
A warm tingle ran through her belly. Here was another thing to be grateful for—first-class gladiator eye-candy. The clean-cut gladiator was wearing soft, dark trousers, and no shirt. All that glorious bronze skin…she leaned against the doorway and couldn’t drag her gaze off him.
He was all sharply defined muscles, and she could see each one flex in his strong back as he moved. Under the soft fabric of his trousers, she saw the impressive curve of his ass and the strong muscles of his thighs.
He just kept moving up and down, like a well-maintained machine. Focused. Driven.
She’d wondered more than once if Kace ever relaxed. Whenever she was around him, he had this coiled strength, an intense tension, that warned her he could explode into action in a millisecond.
She stepped inside. “Hey, pretty boy. Don’t you ever run out of steam?”
Kace paused and turned his head. His brown hair was slightly damp against his well-shaped head. He pushed to his feet. “Steam? I have no steam.”
Rory shook her head. The translator device the Thraxians had implanted at the base of her neck meant she could understand other people’s languages and they could understand her. But her
Earth sayings tended to catch people off guard. “Energy. Don’t you ever run out of energy?”
“No. A soldier knows how to manage his energy levels.”
He was handsome any way you looked at him. He made her think of an action hero. Strong jaw, the sharp blades of his cheekbones, and brilliant blue eyes.
Rory shifted. He was so damn delicious, and so not her type. She’d always liked bad boys and rebels. Musicians, artists…hell, she’d even dated a biker once.
Kace was a big, bad gladiator, but he was also as clean-cut and controlled as they came.
“The fight was great,” she said. “You were wicked with the staff. Congrats on your win.”
He inclined his head. “It is very late. You should be sleeping.”
She fiddled with the handle of her toolbox. “I…couldn’t. Thought I’d do something productive instead.” She gestured to the toolbox.
“You have trouble sleeping?”
Great. Her insomnia and nightmares were the last thing she wanted to discuss. “I keep thinking about poor Madeline.”
Rory knew Kace and the others were helping to search for Madeline. To the galaxy, the gladiators of the House of Galen were simply fighters on the bloody sand of the arena. Behind the scenes, they were heroes. They rescued imprisoned, stolen and injured gladiator recruits from the other houses. From scum like the Thraxians.
Rory would never forget that they’d rescued her and her friends.
“Have you heard anything about Madeline?” she asked.
His blue eyes flashed. “No. I’m sorry.”
Rory’s shoulders sagged.
“Galen is doing everything he can to find her.”
Rory nodded and moved over to the bank of lights on the wall. She knelt between one that was completely out, and another neighboring one that was flickering beside it. She opened her toolbox, grabbed what passed for a screwdriver on Carthago, and started prying the cover off the malfunctioning light.
“Madeline was your friend?”
Rory glanced over her shoulder. “Not really. She was in charge of the space station where we worked. Madeline can be…well, a real bitch. She kept herself apart from the space station employees and didn’t seem to have any friends. But none of that matters. She’s human, and no one deserves captivity with the Thraxians.” A shiver ran through Rory.
“We’ll find her.”
Kace moved closer and Rory could smell him. Mm-mmm. Healthy male sweat. She made what she hoped to be a sound of acknowledgment in her throat.
“Galen has a vast network of contacts. Someone will know something.”
Rory suddenly realized she was staring at the wall, sniffing Kace’s scent. She cleared her throat and stuck her tool inside the inner workings of the light. She knew because of the unique power system there was no risk of her being zapped. She’d been shadowing a few of the maintenance team workers when she got the chance, and peppering them with questions. She didn’t recognize anything familiar inside the light, so she started tapping around inside, trying to work it out.
She could feel Kace’s attention on her, and then sensed when he crouched down close by. His big body brushed against hers in a featherlight touch.
“You’ve been fixing lots of things around here.”
She paused. He’d been watching her?
“You don’t have to,” he continued.
“I know, but I like it. I’m learning lots about the different technology from the maintenance team. Besides, Harper fights in the arena, and Regan fiddles in her lab and invents fabulous new substances that Galen can sell. I fix things. It’s the least I can do. It’s how I can contribute.”
“You have a safe place here.” Kace rested his hand on her shoulder.
That simple touch burned through her. She’d spent a long time locked in a cell by the Thraxians and knew she was touch-deprived. She felt the warmth of him radiating against her skin. Rory found she desperately wanted to know more about him.
“Thanks. I know. But I’m not the type to sit about doing nothing. I do have some fight training, so I may try the arena.” Her brothers had started martial-arts training in their teens. At first, they’d been horrified when their baby sister had wanted to follow in their footsteps. After some spectacular nagging, her parents had let her. Rory was stubborn when she wanted something, and refused to give in. “Harper is teaching me to use the sword, and Saff promised to help me learn the net.” Rory tilted her head. “They say you’re the best with the staff. Would you show me some moves?”
This close to him, she saw the scowl that crossed his face. His fingers tightened on her shoulder.
“You will not fight in the arena.”
She blinked. “Well, maybe not right now, but who knows, one day I might give it a try.”
“No.”
Her gaze narrowed. “At what point did I give you the impression that I would take orders from you, pretty boy?”
“You are too small and delicate for the arena.”
Rory stared at him, gobsmacked, then threw her head back and laughed. “I’ve never been called small or delicate in my life.”
His gaze ran over her face, like she was some sort of puzzle for him to decode.
“Look, for now I just want to learn the different weapons,” she told him. “I’ve been warned that Kor Magna isn’t the safest city in the galaxy. I thought it would be a good idea to know the best ways to defend myself.”
His fingers flexed on her shoulder. “Of course. I would be happy to show you some moves with the staff.” He stood abruptly. “I have to go. Good night, Rory.”
What bug had gotten up his butt? She watched him disappear. It was like he wore an icy, controlled shell. One that showed no signs of cracking.
With a sigh, Rory turned back to the lights and resumed tapping the components. She was going to fix something, dammit.
***
Kace stepped out of the arena tunnels and into the bright morning sunshine. He paused, looking around, as Galen and Raiden stepped out beside him, followed by Rory.
Kace automatically moved so he was close to her and able to subtly maneuver her into the center of their small group.
She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes, but she was still looking around the city street with interest.
They were going to the Kor Magna District.
Kace hated the District. There was too much of everything. Too much noise, too much flash, too many people. Too many vices and too much weakness. He could see the tops of the tall, glass-covered buildings ahead, spearing sharply into the pale blue sky. Even in the bright sunshine, lights were blinking, huge screens advertising the latest shows, fights, and games. He knew the casinos would be packed with aliens from all over the galaxy, betting their last credits at the tables.
“Let’s get to Zhim’s place,” Galen said.
They crossed a cobblestone-paved road. They were going to see Kor Magna’s most prominent information merchant. Kace disliked Zhim almost as much as the District.
“Zhim’s the best person to find information on Madeline,” Galen said. “He specifically requested to talk to you, Rory. To find out what you might know that could help him track down your friend.”
Rory nodded. She was wearing a pair of tight black trousers and a top in a green that matched the green in her eyes. Kace wondered if she’d slept last night. He remembered the way she’d looked in the gym, the way she’d laughed with such abandon. Even late in the night, and tired, Rory burned with a bright light.
“Don’t give Zhim any extra information,” Raiden warned. “Information is his drug. The man will do whatever he can to try and squeeze it out of you.”
“And then he’ll buy and sell it. He’d buy or sell anything,” Kace added darkly.
Rory nodded again. “Sounds like a real winner. Okay boys, lead the way.”
They walked down a narrow backstreet, which slowly gave way to the wider avenue that ran through the heart of the District. The low, older buildings of
the main part of the city slowly gave way to the slick, shiny casinos.
There was nothing like the District on Antar. Kace’s people admired restraint and order. In Antar’s cities, practical, well-built and defensible buildings were interspersed with elegant parks. In the District, it was all pavement and glass and lights.
He watched as Rory slowed down, trying to peer inside the shiny glass doors of a casino they were passing. People of all species were flowing in and out. He gently nudged her back to keep her moving.
They passed a giant fountain that shot jets of water into the air in a beautiful, hypnotic dance. Lights changed the color of the water in time to music that was playing. Rory peered into the water, and when she spotted the various water creatures frolicking in the crystal-blue pool, she gasped.
“Zhim lives in the tallest apartment building in the District.” Galen nodded to the glass spire ahead. “In the penthouse.”
The building was made of smoky, dark glass with a wide base that narrowed at the top to a point.
They entered the building, and after a quick talk with security, they entered a glass bubble set in the wall.
“Wow. Cool elevator.” Rory was studying the neon glow of the controls that appeared on the glass.
Galen touched the controls and they shot smoothly upward. Light flooded the small space. The bubble moved up the outside of the building, offering a stunning view of the District below. Rory gasped, and without fear, stepped close to the glass. She laughed with obvious glee.
It reminded Kace that she’d been kept in a cell for a very long time. Anger was a shot to his system. He hated any being who hurt those who weren’t as strong as themselves.
The speed of the elevator and the dizzying view didn’t bother Kace, but he tugged Rory back. He didn’t want her too close to that glass wall.
Finally, the elevator slowed and the doors opened. They stepped out onto a wide terrace. A breeze blew at them, ruffling Rory’s red curls.
“Now, this is a view worth paying for.” She moved toward the railing. Kace had to admit that Zhim had a hell of a view to wake up to.
Up this high, you could see beyond the far edges of the city, and into the desert stretching off into the distance. The dull, beige-colored sand dominated, but in the distance he could make out a patch of large sand dunes and a white area that he knew must be some sort of dried-out lake. Off to the left, just a dark smudge on the horizon, were the Crixis Mountains—a strange mix of flat-topped mesas and ragged spikes of rock.