Chapter Six
Winter carefully followed Galen. There was so much noise around her and interference was messing with her vision device. She hated it here.
She kept searching for any sign of the others, and finally, she saw Nero’s big form ahead.
Thorin, Raiden, Nero, and Magnus stood in a group, watching as Blue paced along the corridor lined with large doors. He was snarling, his face twisted in a wild mask.
“What is this place?” Winter asked. She studied the wide doors. They ranged from small to massive, and they were all closed. Nearby, she saw several cargo movers parked in a row. They reminded her of forklifts, except for the fact that they were hovering off the ground.
“Transport dock,” Galen answered.
“It looks like the women were loaded onto transports here,” Magnus said.
Her heart clenched. Which meant they could have been taken anywhere.
“Can you follow the scent trail?” Galen’s gaze moved between Nero and Blue.
Nero shook his head. “It’s too old, and it’s impossible to follow a transport.”
Galen’s jaw tightened. “I’ll have Zhim find all the transport logs. We’ll see what transports left here, and where they were headed.”
“This Catalyst lives in the desert, somewhere,” Magnus said. “He only comes to the city to get supplies, components, and slaves.”
“Why would he need so many slaves?” Winter asked. The idea that anyone would think they had the right to own another individual made her blood boil. But it seemed this Catalyst was a loner. Why did he require a steady flow of people? “Does he sell them to the Zaabha Arena?”
“We don’t know,” Magnus said. “The man works very hard to obscure his identity.”
“I don’t care.” Galen’s voice was as sharp as a blade. “We are going to find Dayna and Mia. If he’s hurt them…then Catalyst will regret crossing the House of Galen.”
Suddenly, Blue tossed back his head and let out a wild howl. It echoed off the walls around them and speared through Winter’s chest. It was filled with such anger and sorrow. The man spun and attacked the nearest door, tearing the metal apart with his bare hands.
Raiden and Nero leaped forward, grabbing Blue’s arms, trying to subdue him. The alien fought them, letting out another wounded roar.
Winter ran to him. “Blue, we’ll find her. We have a lead. We won’t stop.”
“Mia. Hurt.” His deep voice was barely more than a harsh growl.
“Winter, step back,” Nero said.
She shook her head. “He won’t hurt me.” She was a doctor and Blue was in pain. She needed to help him. “We don’t know that Mia is hurt—”
“Mia’s blood.” Blue gestured at the floor.
Winter frowned and looked down. She spotted a darker patch of color on the floor, but couldn’t get enough detail. Nero brushed against her as he went down on one knee. He touched the patch.
He looked up, face grim. “It’s dried and faint. But it’s blood.”
“We’ll find her.” Tentatively, Winter reached out a hand, stroking it down Blue’s muscled arm. “It’s not much. We have to have hope that she’s okay.” Winter kept murmuring to him, talking about Mia, and keeping her voice calm and soothing. She felt Nero watching her.
Finally, Blue’s shoulders slumped. He looked at Winter with pain swirling in his eyes. “Mia.”
“We’ll find her. Galen’s promised.”
“I think it’s time we leave.” Galen speared Blue with a hard look. “Do you have it together?”
Blue nodded.
The gladiators moved together, heading back toward the exit. As Winter stepped in behind Blue, a flash of relief filled her. She would be very happy to be out of this place.
They passed some loud, thumping equipment. Every time the giant hammers slammed down, the sound was deafening and the vibration ricocheted through her body. A cloud of steam puffed rhythmically over them.
She brushed up against a metal structure, and stopped in her tracks, as her shirt caught on something. She muttered a curse, trying to free it. A huge cloud of steam filled the air.
Suddenly she heard shouts and the clash of swords.
“Take them down!” Galen roared.
She saw shapes moving through the steam. They were under attack.
She yanked harder and felt the fabric tear. She put her hand on the knife at her belt, and kept trying to free her caught shirt. She had to see if she could help the others.
Then, she heard something. A high-pitched, beeping sound.
She swiveled her head, peering at some nearby storage tanks. All she saw were the shiny metal surfaces, and the dark shadows between them. The sound was coming from that direction.
More beeps. She squinted, wishing she could see more clearly. There.
Her heart knocked against her ribs. Something moved in the shadows between the tanks.
Screw her shirt. She gave a hard tug, and ripped it free. She started moving toward the others. The sound of fighting had intensified.
But Winter had barely taken two steps when something rammed into her lower back.
She pitched forward, but something sharp dug into the back of her shirt, breaking her fall. A cold and metallic object scraped against her skin.
Struggling, Winter turned her head, straining for a glimpse. She gasped. Her attacker was a robot.
The main body was made of a sleek, dark metal and shaped like a dome, roughly twice the size of her head. It was floating at chest level, with several arms dangling beneath it. It made her think of some sort of robotic jellyfish.
Two of the many arms had claws attached, and they were gripping her shirt.
“Help!” she shouted.
But she knew instantly that no one would hear her. Her shout was drowned out by the machinery and fighting.
She elbowed the robot, and pain shot up her arm. Ow. A row of blue lights flickered on its head. She kept struggling, gripping one arm, and trying to tear it away.
The blue lights flared brighter, seconds before an electric jolt shot through Winter.
Her teeth snapped together and pain flared, searing all her nerve endings. Her vision went white, and she sagged against the robot.
She had to have lost consciousness for a moment or two, because suddenly, she felt herself moving, and she blinked a few times, trying to clear her head. Her vision returned to the normal shades of blue, and her brain caught up to her surroundings. The robot was dragging her across the factory.
In the opposite direction to Nero and the others.
She kicked her legs, sliding her feet across the ground. Anything to leave a trail. Nero would come looking for her. She had to leave him something to follow.
What else could she do? She reached up and grabbed the tiny, flat, button-like fastenings on her shirt. She ripped one off, and dropped it.
She tore another off and another.
The robot dragged her in amongst the tanks and her vision dimmed in the shadows.
Please find me, Nero.
***
Machinery clanged loudly in his ear, and as another cloud of steam hit Nero’s face, he ran his sword through his attacker.
Sparks exploded in his face. Drak. He yanked his sword back.
The man he’d beaten was wearing metallic armor. He fell to the ground, his helmet retracting. It showed a man with wires and chips attached to his head. His eyes were a glowing neon green, but the color slowly faded away.
What the drak? He looked over at the others. They’d taken down the other assailants. Blue had ripped the arms off one of them.
Nero looked over his shoulder. He didn’t see Winter and he hoped to hell she’d hidden herself well.
Magnus was crouched by one of the fallen men. “They’re cyborgs.” He lifted his silver arm and two small probes extended from the back of his hand. He shoved it into the fallen attacker’s neck.
Nero watched as one of Magnus’ eyes glowed bright blue. “They are heavily enhanced to the point they have no autonomy or independent thought. They’re programmed.”
“By who?” Galen demanded.
“I can’t access that information.” Magnus’ voice had turned monotone.
“What was their mission?” Nero asked.
Magnus looked up at him with his scary blank face. “To attack and distract us.”
“Distract us?” Nero frowned, then his muscles locked. He strode back the way they’d come. “Winter?”
She wasn’t there.
“Winter!” Frantically, he looked around the nearby equipment and tanks. He called her name again, hearing his voice echo off the metal and steel around them.
Then he heard Galen’s harsh curse. Nero spun and saw the imperator crouched low, studying the floor.
“Scuff marks,” Galen said.
Nero strode over and knelt. “Drak.” He pressed his fingers to the marks. “She was taken. The attack was to distract us.”
For a second, he was twenty again, staring at the trail of the slavers who’d attacked and stolen his brother and sister right from under him. His father’s scathing, callous words about Nero’s failure rang in his ears. Another dark memory hit, his father’s emotionless face as he’d sacrificed Nero to the alien slavers.
Nero had been carted off in chains, despairing that he’d been forsaken by his family. He’d then spent weeks in the tight confines of a ship that had almost driven him insane. Overnight, he’d gone from a powerful fighter, one of his father’s heirs…to a slave.
If only he’d been better, stronger, faster…
He shook his head and thought of Winter. She’d been ripped violently from her world, tortured and wounded, yet still strong in a way he’d never appreciated before. He looked down at the marks on the floor.
He had to find her.
Nero focused on following the trail. “She was being dragged and was struggling.” He looked up, staring at the rows of endless tanks. Rage boiled up, and he growled low in his throat. Once again, someone had preyed on Winter.
He stood and stalked to the tanks. His jaw tightened. It was like a maze. Dozens of giant metal vats in row upon row.
“Who the hell would have taken her?” Thorin said.
Whoever they were, they were dead. Nero followed the trail. He spotted something shiny on the ground and snatched it up.
A fastener. He tilted it, trying to catch what dim light there was. It matched the ones he’d seen on Winter’s shirt and smelled of her.
He kept moving, and spotted another one ahead on the ground. Nero smiled. Clever girl. “She’s leaving a trail for us.” For him. I’ll find you.
As a group, they moved through the tanks. She had to be terrified, unable to see very much. She’d be waiting for them—for him—to find her.
Ahead, Nero heard noises. A mechanical beep, and then a woman’s angry voice.
“She’s ahead. Go that way.” He pointed down one row between the tanks. Then he pressed his palms to the metal of the nearest tank and started climbing.
“I’ll go.” Magnus’ deep voice reverberated off the tanks. The cyborg disappeared into the shadows.
Nero climbed, the force of his hands denting the metal under his hard grip. He pulled himself on top of the vessel, and then he leaped across to the next tank. And then the next and the next.
Finally, he saw a flash of movement below. He spotted Winter in the grip of some sort of robot.
The machine was pulling her behind it, despite her wild struggles.
No, you don’t. Nero leaped off the tank, pulling his sword from its sheath on his back. He landed not far from the robot, with a bend of his knees.
Winter’s head jerked up. “Nero!”
The robot moved faster, jerking her behind a tank.
Nero charged after them, the need to attack rushing through him. He raised his sword.
Laser fire lit up the darkness. With a curse, he dived out of the way. The robot was equipped with laser weapons.
“No!” Winter shouted.
The laser burned into the tank behind Nero and hot liquid rushed out. He leaped to his feet and dodged out of the way.
From behind the next tank, he heard the sound of a struggle. He hurried to catch them. He couldn’t let that damn machine take her.
Then he heard an electronic whine followed by several clunks. Metal on metal. What the hell was it doing to her?
He heard the others arrive, Galen shouting orders. Nero sprinted around the tanks, sword raised.
That’s when he saw Winter. She was walking toward him through the steam. His eyes widened. She was limping and dragging the remnants of the robot behind her.
She had a scrape down the side of her face, and held the knife he’d given her in her other hand. She stopped by Nero and dropped the mangled robot on the ground.
“Winter.” He reached out to touch her pale face.
“It shot at you. It tried to abduct me…again.” She kicked the robot. “I got mad.” She shot Nero a smile. “Told you I was good with a knife.”
***
Winter was well aware all the gladiators were staring at her.
“Maybe Rory can get something off that.” She nodded at the remains of the robot, trying to keep her voice level, and not show that she was more than a teensy bit rattled.
She felt a little dizzy, and the anger that had fueled her when she’d attacked the robot was waning.
It had ripped her shirt, scratched her, and then shot at Nero. She’d suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of fury.
“Winter.” Nero’s voice was a deep rumble.
Her pain and dizziness got worse, but she swallowed a few times. She didn’t want him to see her as weak. Again.
But when she took a step, her legs collapsed from under her. Nero caught her in brawny arms.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“You’re hurt.” He pulled her tight against his chest.
“No.” God, he was so hard and strong. And smelled so good. She pressed her cheek to his chest.
Suddenly, Blue appeared beside them. He sniffed. “Blood.”
Nero tensed.
Winter turned her head. “I’m okay—”
Nero started yanking at her torn shirt.
“Hey—” she protested.
He lifted the fabric, and Winter stared at the ragged scratches on her belly. She wrinkled her nose. Damn robot. “See? Not so bad.”
“We need to get her to Medical.” He spun, his gaze going to Galen. “She needs the healers.”
Winter opened her mouth to once again reassure them, but she saw Galen nod. “I want to get the drak out of here.” The imperator looked at Thorin. “Bring the robot.”
Deciding that arguing with alpha male gladiators wouldn’t get her very far, Winter simply leaned into Nero. Truth be told, she was too tired and achy to argue with them right now, anyway.
She felt the tension pumping off Nero. He was no doubt saving up for a big lecture about how she shouldn’t have come on this mission. She looked over his shoulder and saw Blue striding behind them. His big body moved with contained power, and he was watchful, but appeared to be handling everything okay.
When they stepped out into the hot Carthago sunlight, Winter released a breath. Nero was moving fast, his long strides eating up the distance back to the arena.
Before she knew it, they were back in the arena tunnels, and then passing through the doors of the House of Galen.
Nero slammed his way into Medical. He set her on a bed, as one of the healers, Tamma, appeared to check on her.
“Gladiator, you may leave,” Tamma said in a calm voice.
“No.” Nero crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet, looking like a boulder that would not be budged.
The Hermia gave a quiet sigh, and then moved back to assess Winter’s wounds. When Tamma pushed up Winter’s shirt, and then started cutting it off, she tried not to be embarrassed. She was well aware she wasn’t Nero’s type—big, strong, and athletic—so it didn’t matter if he saw her half naked.
“The scratches are minor.” The healer grabbed some med gel and started spreading it over her stomach.
“I tried to tell everyone that.”
“I find gladiators do not always listen to medical advice.”
Winter snorted and saw Nero’s brows draw together. When the healer finished and stepped away, Winter sat up, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed.
Nero appeared, handing her a sheet. She pulled it around her shoulders. “Thank you.” It would have to do until she got back to her room.
Before her feet hit the floor, Nero lifted her into his arms.
“I’m fine, Nero. I can walk.”
“Don’t care.” He strode out of Medical.
Boy, he was wound up. Winter decided to stay silent, as he strode through the corridors. Soon, he was carrying her into a room that wasn’t hers and setting her on a huge bed.
“Stay there,” he ordered, before he stomped out.
She stared at the empty doorway, shaking her head. She looked around his room with interest. A large fur rug covered the bed and she stroked it while she took in the leather couch, the dark curtains framing the large window and the crossed swords on the wall. She turned her head and saw a collection of knives hanging above the bed. She smiled. Barbarian chic.
She’d just settled back against the pillows when Nero returned, holding a glass of liquid and some silky fabric in his hand.
“My robe.” She grabbed the silky robe that Regan had given her.
Nero turned and gave her his broad back. Quickly, she discarded her bloody clothes and the sheet, pulling the robe around her body.
“I’m decent.”
He turned and handed her the glass. Her eyebrows rose. “What’s this?”
“It is called ch’talla. It is made from a vine from my home world. It promotes healing.”
She felt something soften inside her. “Nero, I’m okay.”
He nodded at her and started pacing across the room.
God, save her from overprotective males. She sipped the ch’talla and her eyes widened. It was sweet and tart. “This tastes amazing.”
“My mother used to make it for me, when I was injured in training. Of course, it hadn’t been brewed first like this version.”
The flat tone of his voice made her heart ache. It was easy to forget big, hard-headed Nero had once been a young man, torn from everything he knew.
“What’s it taste like if it isn’t brewed?” she asked.
“Bitter. You do not give warriors in training something that tastes sweet.”
She closed her eyes for a second. So barbarians treated their kids with little care. He kept pacing, and she wondered idly if he would wear a groove in the floor if he continued. “Nero, come and sit down.”
“You could have been killed or taken.” He spun, his face hard. “When I realized we were attacked as a distraction…” He pressed his hands to the back of his neck. “When I saw you were gone.”
She climbed off the bed and went to him. “I’m okay.” She squeezed his hand. “You were coming after me…I was alone in the dark for a long time knowing that no one was coming. This time, I knew.”
A squeaking sound broke through the room, followed by the tap of something on glass. She spun toward the doors leading onto his balcony.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” His voice sounded odd.
She eyed him. He had a strange look on his face. Winter headed for the balcony.
“Winter, you should be resting.”
She slid open the door. Three small, furry faces looked up at her.
Her mouth dropped open. She watched the sleek, cat-like creatures tumble into the room. One tried to climb up Nero’s leg while the others ran in circles around his feet.
Winter watched him snatch one animal up, his big hand smoothing over its dark fur. She now saw the little things had very sharp claws and huge fangs. Whatever they were, they were hunters.
“Friends of yours?” she asked.
He looked really uncomfortable. “Several animals roam the arena at night. They eat the rodents. One of the thera hunting cats had a litter.”
“And they followed you home?” She was trying to hold back a laugh. If the familiar way he petted the animals was anything to go by, this was a regular thing.
He shrugged one shoulder. “The kits climbed up to my balcony.”
Winter swiveled and looked on the balcony. There was a bowl of water and a small plate of half-eaten food sitting beside a fur blanket. She stared. This was a side of Nero she’d never seen, never even guessed at.
She turned to look at him. “You hiding some sweet under that barbarian gruffness?”
He scowled and set the thera kit down. He chased them out onto the balcony and slammed the door closed. He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I am not sweet.”
She moved up to him until their bodies brushed. “Nero—”
Suddenly, his bedroom door flew open. Harper, Regan, Rory, and Madeline rushed in.
“God, what happened?” Rory demanded.
“Are you all right?” Harper asked quietly. “Raiden said you were hurt.”
As the women surrounded Winter, she absorbed the cloud of caring and love surrounding her. Just weeks ago, she hadn’t known any of these women, but what they’d all gone through had bonded them together forever.
Whatever happened, she had her friends.
As Regan leaned over to give her a careful hug, Winter looked up and saw Nero slip out of the room. Now she just had to work out where one big, bad barbarian gladiator fitted into her life.