Chapter Three
Showered and dressed after the fight, with scratches already healing under med gel that the healers had applied, Nero found himself heading to the party.
He didn’t like parties.
Lore elbowed him. “Lighten up. Have a few drinks, find yourself a woman. I can feel you brooding from over here.”
They were heading back up to the arena. Rillian, owner of the Dark Nebula Casino in Kor Magna’s flashy District, had organized tonight’s party. Nero guessed the man had planned something more creative than a few drinks in a hired room. The Dark Nebula was known for class, wealth, and opulence.
Nero ducked out of the tunnel, and paused for a second to look at the empty arena stands. It looked so different from when it was packed with spectators. It was almost peaceful.
Lore whistled. “Look at that.”
Turning his head, Nero spotted a huge floating platform hovering over the arena floor. He raised a brow.
“I’ve seen this before,” Lore said. “Once everyone is aboard, it’ll lift up and fly out over the city.”
Nero was reluctantly impressed. The platform was ringed by a railing and covered in small lights strung up on long poles. There were already guests aboard, holding drinks and mingling. Several fire dancers, wearing only what looked like silver and red paint, were spinning long, burning sticks and walking through the crowd.
Apparently, Rillian had spared no expense. As Nero and Lore approached the narrow walkway leading across to the platform, the man himself stepped forward to greet them.
Nero took a second to study the casino owner. The man wore a dark, tailored suit that Nero suspected cost more than half the weapons in Galen’s armory. But there was something about the man that made Nero’s instincts flare to life. The same way he’d felt on his first hunt, deep in the forest, when he’d known a giant Symerian grak beast had been hunting him.
Rillian was very good at putting on a charming façade, but Nero would bet his favorite sword that beneath, he was hiding something far darker and far more dangerous.
“Lore, Nero. Welcome.”
Nero nodded.
“Nice setup,” Lore said.
Rillian smiled. “Thank you.” He looked past Lore. “Where is your lovely Madeline?”
“On her way.” A smile edged the gladiator’s lips. “I’m hoping she’ll be wearing something fabulous.”
Nero stared Rillian in the eye. “I know you’re helping Galen with the search. Any news on the Earth women?”
The casino owner sighed. “Not much. Get a drink, find Galen, and then we’ll talk.” He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. A server hurried over with a tray full of drinks.
As Nero snagged an ale, he scanned the party. Instantly, he spotted their imperator near the bar. Galen was leaning against the glossy surface, surveying the party. Not surprisingly, the guests nearby were giving him a wide berth.
Rillian might cover his deadliness with gloss, but Galen did nothing of the sort. Galen had been born a royal guard, and trained for loyalty and killing from a young age. He’d been Raiden’s guard in another lifetime, and then he’d fought hard to build the House of Galen into the best gladiatorial house in Kor Magna.
With one eye covered by a black eye patch, a scarred cheek, and a dark shirt that clung to hard muscles, Galen was intimidating. He rarely smiled, and his single eye was an icy blue, his gaze missing nothing.
“Hey, G,” Lore said.
Galen nodded. “Good fight.”
“Nero was our barbarian hero. The arena flutterers will be out in force for him tonight.”
Nero leaned against the bar and hunched his shoulders. Tonight, he had no interest in the women who enjoyed sex with gladiators. He frowned into the amber liquid of his drink. Usually, he was happy enough to snag a woman —one who just wanted sex, no talking, and no clinging.
It had to be the search. He was focused on that, and didn’t want to let his attention splinter.
“Well, here are the reigning arena champions,” a voice drawled.
A tall form appeared, long, dark hair pulled back off his face and tied at the back of his neck. He had multi-colored eyes that looked like a nebula.
Nero scowled. Zhim was annoying. The man was some sort of genius and was known as the premier information merchant on Carthago. If anything was worth knowing, Zhim knew it, and was usually happy to sell it for the highest price.
“Zhim,” Galen said. “You find anything useful for us?”
The man sipped his drink, his gaze drifting over the party. “A few tiny bits and pieces.” His mouth tightened. “All my sources say the Srinar took your women into the desert to sell them.”
Drakking slavers. Nero gulped his drink. He hated them with every fiber of his being. That Galen was dedicated to saving the weak, injured, and helpless from slavers and the unscrupulous houses that used slaves, had sealed Nero’s loyalty to the man.
“Everything leads to the desert.” Zhim’s dark brows drew together. “But they should’ve been at the Rishyk Trading Post, en route to Zaabha.”
Zaabha. A legendary lawless arena in the desert, with vicious fighters and battles to the death. Everyone had thought it was a myth, but since the House of Galen had closed down the Srinar’s fight rings, it seemed they’d moved them into the desert.
And no one was talking about where Zaabha might be.
“When you rescued that small blind woman from Rishyk—”
“Winter,” Nero growled. “Her name is Winter.”
Zhim raised a brow. “I know. Winter Ashworth, a former doctor from Earth.” The information merchant turned back to Galen. “When you rescued Winter, the other women should have been with her.”
“But they weren’t,” Galen said darkly, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Something had gone wrong. Nero frowned. Something or someone had disrupted the Srinar’s plans for the women.
“What about Zaabha?” Galen asked. “Any luck locating it?”
Zhim shook his head. “No clue. I’ve found nothing on it.” A deep frustration laced the man’s voice. “But I will find it.”
“Drak.” Galen ran a hand through his dark hair. “I hate not having something to do.”
“Gladiators.” Zhim sipped his drink. “You always want to smash your sword against things.” He paused. “I do have an unconfirmed sighting of Mia.”
“What?” Nero straightened.
“Where?” Galen demanded.
“In the city,” Zhim answered. “I wasn’t going to bring it up yet. I’m working to get more details, and I haven’t even confirmed it was her.”
Rillian appeared, clutching a glass of clear fluid, ice clinking. “I have some information for you.”
Nero saw Zhim frown. The man did not like being in the dark or upstaged.
“A contact told me that the Thraxians and the Srinar are having problems with a rival.”
“Yeah, Galen,” Lore said.
“Someone other than Galen,” Rillian said.
“How does this relate to the women?” Nero asked.
The casino owner shook his head. “I’m not sure it does. But as Zhim knows, it pays to have all the information at your fingertips.”
“Do you know who this rival is?” Galen asked.
“Not yet,” Rillian answered. “But I’ll let you know when I do.”
“Keep at it, both of you,” Galen said. “Those women are under the protection of the House of Galen. The Thraxians and the Srinar entered my house uninvited, and took them. I want them back.”
The dark tone of Galen’s voice made even Nero straighten. The imperator was angry. Not just mad or upset, but filled with an icy-cold rage.
The imperator skewered Zhim with a look. “As soon as you know where Mia was seen, I want to know. I’ll have Nero check it out.”
Nero felt his hunting instincts flare. He wanted the trail. He wanted to hunt.
“Ah, here come the rest of your lovely Earth women, now,” Zhim said, his tone clearly emphasizing the change in topic.
Nero looked over his shoulder and every muscle in his body went tight.
Raiden, Thorin, and Kace were with them, a head taller than the women, and most of the crowd. The women were smiling, each one dressed in shimmering fabrics of varying hues.
Nero’s gaze skated over them all before landing on Winter.
She was wearing red. It was a fabric that gleamed in the light and clung to gentle curves. And there wasn’t enough of it. She’d left most of her legs bare.
He scowled. They were good legs, slim and toned, but she really didn’t need to be showing them to everyone at the party. Her long, dark hair was piled up on top of her head, leaving her slim neck bare. That skin of hers was so pale, like the snowy plains of—
He looked away and took a long sip of his drink, cursing when his glass ran empty. He could look. He could even admit that Winter was attractive. In a small, tiny kind of way. Absolutely not the type of woman he preferred. He liked big, strong women.
“Gentlemen,” Lore said. “I am abandoning you for better company.” He made a beeline for Madeline.
“Evening.” Raiden nodded at them. He had an arm wrapped tightly around Harper. “You’ve outdone yourself, Rillian.”
Rillian inclined his head.
From nearby, Thorin nabbed a drink, before tugging a giggling Regan into his arms.
“Not falling for the charms of an Earth woman, Nero?” Zhim asked.
Nero hunched his shoulders. “No.”
Zhim’s colored gaze took on a faraway look. “There is something…intriguing about them. They’re so fragile on the outside.”
Nero snorted. “I’m guessing you haven’t said that to their faces.”
The information merchant smiled. “I wouldn’t dare. I am well aware that they aren’t so fragile on the inside.”
Nero watched as men at the party began to take notice of the newly arrived women. He caught several staring at Winter’s legs. His hand tightened on his glass. Winter was smiling at her friends, and busy looking all around. She turned and that’s when he saw the back of her dress.
His cock hardened. There was no back, just smooth, bare skin. His gaze dipped to the small of Winter’s back and the glass in his hand cracked.
Cursing, he set the broken glass down on a table. When he looked back, he saw Rillian approach her. She smiled up at the man, listening to whatever he was telling her. A strange feeling filled Nero’s chest. Rillian was rich and charismatic, and Winter was still adjusting to her new life on Carthago. He had no right to dazzle her with his charm.
Shaking his head, Nero turned his back on the party and signaled for another drink. As he was waiting for the bartender to head his way, he felt someone move up beside him.
“So, what do big, bad barbarians drink?” Winter leaned over and sniffed his glass. “Blood of your defeated prey?”
He snorted. “Taskian ale.”
“That’s disappointing.” She lifted her own drink, ruby-red lips wrapping around the rim of the glass.
Her lips were painted the same color as her dress. He stared and now his cock was pressed painfully against his trousers. Drak, this was Winter. Opinionated, annoying Earth woman.
“I enjoyed the fight,” she said.
Nero liked that she’d been watching. “You could see everything well enough?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Yes, I could see, barbarian, I don’t—”
He grabbed her wrist. “I just meant did the device work?”
She stilled, staring at his face. “It did. It was fascinating to watch you fight, uh, all of you fight.”
“I loved the fight!” a high-pitched voice purred. A tall, pretty woman wearing a dress of bright, blinding colors slid in on the other side of Winter. Her hair was a waterfall of blue. She tottered on her high heels and looked like she’d had a few drinks already.
“When you rode that bird and took it down…” the woman shivered. “You have amazing skills.” The woman glanced at Winter. “Don’t you think he has amazing skills?”
“Just amazing.” Winter’s tone was as dry as desert sand.
When Winter took a step back from the bar, Nero realized she was planning to leave him alone with the prattling, rainbow-colored female.
He grabbed Winter’s arm and, for a second, was distracted by how smooth her skin was.
“Nero?” She was frowning at him.
“We have to go,” he grumbled to the flutterer.
He turned, pulling Winter into the party crowd, and leaving the pouting woman behind them.
***
Winter fought back her amusement. “So, there is something that makes a fearsome barbarian gladiator quake in his boots, after all.”
“You are an annoying woman.”
She let out a little laugh. “And you’re an annoying man.”
He pulled them to a stop in a quiet corner, near the railing. Seconds later, the floor began to vibrate under her feet, and the hum of an engine reached her ears. She gripped the railing.
“Steady.” Nero moved in behind her.
“What’s—?”
The platform beneath them suddenly rose smoothly into the air. Winter gasped and grabbed Nero’s arm. He wrapped a strong arm around her, and they stood there as the platform climbed above the arena.
The partygoers cheered.
“Wow,” she murmured. Clearly, they knew how to throw a party on Carthago. She swallowed, trying to focus on absorbing the view and not on the fact that a big, hard male body was pressed close behind her.
The platform crested the arena walls, and moved out over the city. Off to the left, she saw the giant spires of the District. The lights of Kor Magna spread out below them, like a spill of sapphires.
Except she knew it wasn’t all blue. “Tell me what colors you see?”
He was quiet for a second. “The District is as bad as the dress of that woman at the bar. Lots of garish colors battling each other. The rest of the city is mainly white and golden lights. Homes and businesses.” He cleared his throat. “Over to the right, I see some red lights. Like the color of your dress.”
She let out a breath. “Well, it all looks blue to me, but it is still pretty.”
She looked up at him, her gaze absorbing the strong jaw covered in the beginnings of a dark beard. He had a long, straight nose and dark brows. “What color are your eyes?”
“Purple.”
A laugh escaped Winter. “Purple.”
His brows drew together. “Why do you find that amusing? It is a common color on my planet.”
“Not on Earth. Some shades of blue eyes can look light purple. It’s considered…pretty.”
Now a full-force Nero scowl bloomed. “I am not pretty.”
No, he wasn’t. Winter really wished she could see his purple eyes.
They were quiet, the cheery noise of the party surrounding them. Winter enjoyed the rush of wind on her face.
“I am sorry my words in the desert caused you distress.”
The deep rumble of Nero’s voice vibrated against her, and made her realize how close they were standing. She turned to face him and saw he looked uncomfortable.
“But you’re not sorry you said them.”
He grimaced. “You are weaker than me, and your impaired vision makes this world dangerous to you. What I said was factual, but I didn’t mean for it—”
She screwed up her nose. God, the man knew how to work on her nerves. “You are so annoying. Can’t you just be nice?”
“I am not nice, but I am not evil, either. I tell the truth.”
“Your interpretation of the truth. Which is coated in ‘big, brooding barbarian.’” She lowered her voice. “Me strong. You weak.”
He went stiff as a board. “I have explained that I grew up being bred and trained to be strong. I knew that if I was weak, it could cost my family and my clan their lives. There were always rival warlords and rampaging beasts to protect the clan from. I live by my sword.”
“You aren’t fighting rival warlords anymore, Nero. And you’ve spent most of your adult life here on Carthago.”
“Fighting in the arena takes strength. And the House of Galen has always worked to help those unsuited to the arena escape it.”
Which had only underscored his belief that physical strength was king. Winter blew out a breath. “Let’s agree to disagree. Is there any news on Dayna and Mia?”
He gave one brief nod. “Everything leads to them being in the desert, but Zhim has word of a very slim lead. A possible sighting of Mia here in the city.”
Winter straightened. “You’re going to check it out?”
“Yes, as soon as we know where.”
“And you’ll try to track Mia?”
“Yes.”
She reached out and grabbed Nero’s arm. Damn, it was as hard as a rock. She snatched her hand back. “We have to do whatever it takes to find Dayna and Mia. We need to bring them home. They could be suffering—” her voice cracked.
Nero lifted his hand and ran his knuckles down her cheek. “It will be okay, Winter.”
His fingers were rough and the sensation left her belly fluttering. God, he was being nice to her. Winter wasn’t sure she could handle a nice Nero.
“We’ll find them. On that, we can both agree, for once.” His tone was dry.
“I want to help in any way I can. Maybe I could come on the search? I might notice something—”
The scowl reappeared. “I don’t like the idea of you out in the city.”
She made a scoffing noise. “That isn’t for you to decide. I’ve been an adult for a very long time, Nero.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “I am very aware of that.”
The air between them charged. Winter felt her belly tighten. He reached up and this time fingered a strand of her hair that had fallen loose.
Then he blinked and they both hurriedly stepped back, staring at each other.
“Quick,” she said. “Say something gruff and rude.”
That muscle in his jaw ticked again. “You are very annoying.”
Winter released a breath. “Phew, there you go.” That was a close call. For a second, she wanted to touch Nero.
“Winter!” Rory’s shout. “Come and dance.”
Winter raised a hand to her friend. Dancing was just the thing she needed. “Enjoy the rest of the party.”
Nero scowled. “I’m sure I won’t.”
That made her smile. She turned her back on him and went to join her friends.