Gladiator Wolf (Gladiators Book 1)

by Marteeka Karland

  “Father, I didn’t do anything other women in Sky City haven’t done. You said yourself Mother does it. What does it matter—”

  “Because this man would kill everyone in this house because of who I am!” His bellow was enough to bring other servants in the vicinity racing to see what the commotion was about. Miranda was mortified. More because her father was railing at her than because she’d been caught with a slave in her rooms. While a little embarrassing, having a man in her room was at least an accepted practice. Her father’s behavior toward her wasn’t.

  “I think you overstate the danger,” she said. “Besides, how could he when guards are everywhere? Do you not trust the men you hired yourself to protect us all?” Despite her bravado, Miranda’s heart pounded. Her whole family was falling apart right before her eyes. An uncontrollable fury burned in her father’s eyes and, in a moment of sudden clarity, she realized she didn’t truly know him at all. This was the man who tortured Brand’s kind. A man she’d hoped never to meet.

  Before she realized what was happening, her father backhanded her, sending her flying. Her father had never so much as raised his voice to her before tonight, let alone this. Her face stung, her chest aching with the shock of it. As she slumped against the wall, Brandwulfr’s roar of rage filled the room—

  Followed almost immediately by the glass windows and ceiling of her bedroom exploding inward. An instant later, a crashing boom the likes of which Miranda had never witnessed thundered through Sky City, shaking the foundations of the building and sending everyone but Brandwulfr crashing to their knees.

  Miranda screamed, covering her ears at the intense noise. The shockwave felt as if it were liquefying her insides with its vibration. Before she realized he’d moved, Brandwulfr was at her side, helping her to her feet, pulling her after him. Her ears rang and she couldn’t hear anything. Several of the servants were still writhing on the ground, holding their hands over their ears, their mouths opened as if they were screaming. Miranda heard none of it. As Brandwulfr dragged her into the hall, she touched her free hand to one ear. Her fingers came back smeared with blood.

  When she didn’t move fast enough, Brandwulfr simply scooped her up into his arms, hurrying through the halls of her home as if he’d been there a thousand times. Unerringly, he made his way to the transport platform. By the time he’d gotten them both inside and the door securely locked, her hearing had returned, but only in one ear. The other still rang abominably.

  “Can you fly this thing?”

  She nodded before shaking her head to clear it. “What happened?” Miranda knew she was talking too loudly, but she couldn’t help it. Adrenaline and the ringing in her ears made it impossible to gauge.

  He pointed in the distance to a thick trail of smoke and fire billowing straight up from one tall mountain peak into the stratosphere. All around it, lightning sparked though the clouds, the rumbling a steady background noise now. The ship vibrated to that steady rumble, and Miranda realized the platform must be trembling beneath them.

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “What is it?” There was a mountain in the distance, but it was well outside the boundaries of Sky City and, as far as she knew, not a volcano. But it looked as if that were exactly what it was.

  “Death,” was his answer as he urged her to get the craft ready to leave. “The storm we’ve all been feeling for weeks now.”

  Miranda didn’t question him. She might not know what it was, but the danger was more than apparent. As she lifted the craft from the platform, pebbles seemed to pelt the vehicle in a steady rain. Pumice?

  “What’s happening?” she wailed. Larger stones crashed down at random intervals as the denser rock from inside the mountain was spewed out along with the lighter material. The scent of sulfur was already beginning to permeate the air.

  “Close the vents,” Brandwulfr snapped. “Recycle the air!”

  She flipped a couple of switches before looking out the window. Her father burst through the doors leading to the platform carrying a wicked-looking light whip. Miranda had never actually seen one, but she’d heard the thing, wielded by the right person, could take the flesh from a man’s back in under a minute.

  “Stay here,” he said, not looking at her.

  “He’s my father,” she said with a sob. Tears now streamed freely down her face. She was terrified, hurt, and angry, but she couldn’t let Brandwulfr harm her father. “Let’s just go.”

  There was an explosion at the back of the vehicle. The conveyance burst open as if a bomb had gone off. Again, Miranda’s ears rang. She felt like all the noise had stunned them into silence, as if her brain just couldn’t process so much noise and had turned the volume down, then shut it off completely. She watched Brandwulfr launch himself out the back then run straight for her father. Several of the house guards tried to subdue him, but he merely gave a wave of his arm and they seemed to be hurled aside. Much like she had when her father had slapped her. Most of them got up immediately, but none advanced again.

  Once he’d reached Rudolph, Brandwulfr lunged for him, ripping the whip from his hands, but not the rifle he carried. Rudolph fired the gun once, obviously intending to hit Brandwulfr in the chest, but the big shifter merely knocked the barrel aside, barely dodging the shell intended to rip him in half. The shell hit the side of the house, exploding on impact. That gun must have been what had hit the vehicle, because there was now a gaping hole in the steel frame. Her father had shot at them! Granted, he’d hit the back of the car, but that was a powerful gun.

  Miranda climbed out the door, careful not to touch hot metal edges still glowing from the blast. All around her, pebbles and ash rained down, covering every surface in a light, gray dust. Her father had managed to avoid Brandwulfr’s grasp, but the wolf was silently stalking him now.

  “Just leave us alone, Father!” she shouted at him, unsure if he heard her. Her mother stood just inside the house, a silk robe wrapped around her, one of the big slaves she’d chosen for herself standing slightly in front of her as if he had every right to be at her side. The other was nowhere in sight.

  “Rudolph!” her mother yelled, not moving to go to his side. “This is insane!”

  “You bitch!” he yelled at Victoria.

  Miranda’s mother merely inclined her head. “Maybe so, but I’m not a monster like you.”

  “I made this family rich! Without me, none of you would be anything!”

  “You enslave people and make money off them, Rudolph,” Victoria yelled across the distance separating them. “You profit from their deaths, and you relish the control!”

  “You’re a wealthy woman because of me.”

  “I was wealthy before we married,” she scoffed. “Or have you forgotten you bought your first group of shifters with my money?”

  “And I succeeded! Yet you”--he gestured to the shifter at her side--“you fuck any of them you can buy from the slave masters. I’ve never even been sure she was really my daughter!”

  Miranda gasped while Victoria merely scowled. The man at her side clenched and unclenched his fists. “I’m not even going to respond to that, though to be your daughter, she has an impeccable sense of justice. Any other father would be proud of her, but you only care about money.”

  “Like you don’t,” Rudolph bit out.

  “I’ve only ever cared about righting the wrongs you created. All those shifters you believe I fucked? I freed them. Every one. The only one I ever intended on taking to my bed was Raven.”

  With a bellow of rage, Rudolph lashed out with his whip, the light strand just missing Victoria’s face and only because the shifter beside her pulled her out of the way and behind his much larger body. A long slice opened up in the shifter’s chest, though the man never even flinched.

  “Father!” Miranda could hardly believe what she’d witnessed. Her father? Striking out at her mother? And he’d struck out at her earlier. Had actually slapped her, had nearly knocked her out.

  Another quaking boom sou
nded in the distance, though not as loud as the earlier one. It was as if the mountain wanted their complete attention. Miranda glanced over her shoulder. The column of smoke still billowed into the air until the air currents carried it to one side.

  With tears streaming down her face, she turned back to her father. “Who are you?”

  He bared his teeth, looking down at the whip before cracking it against the landing. “I’m your father,” he snarled.

  “My father would never hit my mother,” she said, “or me.”

  “You will do as I say, girl!"

  “I’m helping Brandwulfr escape. After that”--she shook her head, backing away from him until Brandwulfr’s hand rested on her shoulder--“I’m not coming back.”

  “Miranda!”

  “Goodbye, Rudolph.”

  Her father gave a roar of rage, lashing out at Miranda with the whip. Miranda ducked, sprinting past him. He was so eaten up with hate, she knew nothing she could say or do would make him change. He would have snagged her arm, but Brandwulfr punched him in the face as he passed, knocking Rudolph out cold. No one spared him another glance.

  As she approached her mother, Victoria said, “Take my personal conveyance. Get away from Sky City.”

  “You’re coming with us.”

  “No, baby.” She smiled, caressing the side of Miranda’s face. “I’m going with Gray.” The big shifter pulled Victoria under his shoulder protectively.

  “But—”

  “Brandwulfr has to get word to our people,” Gray said. “He’s our protector. He has to warn the king of the danger and close the gate if he can.” He nodded at Brandwulfr. “The rumors of the old temple holding a gate are true.” He tossed a crystal to Brandwulfr, who snatched it out of the air. “I took that from the old man who captured me. This crystal will open the portal. Place it on the ground next to the ornate entrance. That’s all you have to do. I heard him telling his grandson the gate would remain open for ten minutes. No longer. After that you’re stuck there. The gateways can only be opened from this side. At least, that I know of. Perhaps the king or the elders know of something else that will work on our side.”

  “You will find the other entrances?” Brandwulfr questioned.

  “Yes. I know of someone who can help us.” Then he muttered under his breath, “If the cat has tamed him, that is.”

  Brand didn’t miss a word. “And if she hasn’t tamed him?”

  Gray met his gaze with a steady one of his own. “Then I’ll tame him myself.”

  More explosions punctuated the night, an ominous omen. “Go now,” Victoria urged. “Get to the portal. Take care of my baby,” she said with a sob.

  Miranda threw herself into her mother’s arms, hugging her tightly. While she wasn’t certain she’d ever see her father again, she had to believe this wasn’t the last time she and her mother would hug. “I love you, Mama,” she choked out.

  “I know, baby. I love you, too. Now go. Go before it’s too late.”

  Miranda stifled the urge to glance at her father, who was now on his knees shaking off the blow Brandwulfr had dealt him. Then she hardened her heart. That man would have flayed the skin from his wife’s face if not for one of the very people he despised so much. He didn’t deserve her pity. Not now.

  Turning her back on him, she fled with Brandwulfr to her mother’s private landing. God willing, they’d all be reunited under much different circumstances in the future.

  Chapter Nine

  Miranda led Brandwulfr to another platform in the massive house she’d lived in. While he wanted to feel outrage on behalf of his people at the blatant reminder of how rich Rudolph had become at their expense, he didn’t. The realization was startling to say the least. Brandwulfr had glanced at the older man as they'd fled. The dazed, lost expression on Rudolph’s face was unexpected. Apparently, watching as his wife and daughter deserted him for the very reasons Brandwulfr hated him, finally made an impression on Rudolph. It was enough to diffuse some of Brandwulfr's anger.

  They eased off the platform and plunged into the lower depths of the city. Miranda wisely used the buildings and overhanging platforms as shelter from the dense material being ejected from the mountain. Every now and then one would hit an outcropping or building and seem to explode on impact. All around them, the night turned into a fiery hell as the city began to burn.

  “How long?” he asked, feeling a sense of urgency now that the “storm” they’d all been anticipating had arrived.

  “Not long. A few minutes maybe?” Miranda’s hands shook, but she did her best to maneuver the craft through the city without hitting anything. “I’m just going in the general direction of the old temple, but I don’t think there’s a landing skiff anywhere near it. We’ll have to go part of the way on foot.”

  “Just get as close as you can. Is there anything in here we can use as a filter for our noses and mouths? We can’t breathe in the ash.”

  “There should be linen drapes in the back over the windows. We could wrap them around our faces.”

  Brandwulfr broke the back glass and climbed through the hole to the passenger compartment. Sure enough, there were covers over the windows that would work perfectly for the two of them. As he collected them, he glanced outside. The lower levels of the city weren’t burning yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. This whole place would likely be up in flames by morning. Again, an ear-shattering boom exploded around them, not as loud as that first massive blast, but enough to know they were in deep trouble.

  With a muttered curse, he climbed back into the front with Miranda. Her lovely face was strained, pinched with anxiety as she landed the craft, her hands shaking.

  “This as close as I can get. We’re maybe a half a mile from the structure. We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot.”

  “You did good, love,” he soothed as he wrapped the drape around her head like a scarf over her mouth and nose. “Now, let’s get to the temple so we can get out of here.”

  “I’ll help you get there,” she said. “I promised. But I’m not going with you.”

  Brandwulfr stilled. He’d known this was coming, but he’d hoped to put it off as long as possible. The closer he got her to the gateway, the easier it would be to get her through it.

  “Let’s just get there. If the situation keeps deteriorating, you may not have much choice. You’re too young to throw your life away, Miranda.” Gods, he was nearly panicked at the thought of her out in this on her own. Though he’d spent the last five years of his life learning to control the urge to shift to his battle form when threatened, the need to protect this woman shook that control. He could feel the change wanting to take hold but ruthlessly held it back. Just like he’d always done. When had his entire view of Miranda changed? It was a subject for another time. Right now, he had to get them to that fucking portal.

  Snagging Miranda’s hand, he opened the door, scenting the air as best he could through the haze and fine fall of ash. Where in Sky City the ash had rained down on them in thick clumps, much like a heavy snowfall, here it was filtered through the structures up top. What reached them down here had passed through several layers of city. Brandwulfr was worried about the fine particles sifting through their makeshift masks and getting into their lungs. The occasional piece of dense material made it through the maze of sky buildings to the surface, exploding on impact. Pumice and larger rocks still rained down, but not with the ferocity they had higher up.

  He made a dash to an overhang with Miranda’s hand tightly in his. In the distance, he could see the massive arena that had seen so much blood spilled. Beneath it, the entrance to the catacombs waited. He’d free his kindred then get to the portal.

  “You good?” he asked, looking at Miranda. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear. She clung to his hand but nodded her head. Brandwulfr pointed to the arena. “We make for the catacombs.”

  Again, she nodded, focusing on the next task. Brandwulfr knew that look well. It was one a gladiator got when
facing insurmountable odds. Miranda was focusing on one thing at a time, not letting herself think past the next move.

  “We’ll keep to the edges of the buildings as much as we can. Stay right behind me, love. If you’re not holding my hand, touch my back or hip. Anything to let me know you’re still with me. Understand?”

  “I’m scared,” she managed. Brandwulfr looked at her hard. Normally, when paired with a green pup, he kept his distance, not wanting to expend energy protecting someone else when he could be on the offensive. Now, he gathered Miranda into his arms, holding her close. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Just do what I tell you. Can you do that?”

  “I’ll do my best,” she answered, clinging to him, her nails digging into his back, her body trembling in his arms.

  “We can do this,” he said, pushing her away a little to look into her eyes, willing her to see his absolute resolve in this. “Once inside the catacombs, we’ll be safe. You ready?” When she nodded, he snagged her hand once again and started for the arena.

  They moved through the streets and alleys with relative ease. All around them people fled in panic, never looking twice at him or the small female he had in tow. Unfortunately, they were all moving away from the arena, which made the going there much harder. He didn’t dare let go of Miranda’s hand or risk them getting separated. Once, a large man knocked into her, ripping her hand from his, and Brandwulfr knew a moment of panic. He’d whipped around just in time to see her go sprawling against a nearby building before slumping to the ground. If the man had still been near, Brandwulfr would have killed him. Which surprised him. He remembered how he’d treated her just days ago, nearly strangling her, deliberately scaring her. Had he changed that much in such a short time?

  Unquestionably. Maybe it was the mind-blowing sex they’d shared, but he suspected it was that very first kiss. Something had shifted inside him, reaching out to her. She called to something inside him he’d never thought existed. Now, the drive to protect her, to keep her close was nearly overwhelming.