Chapter Seven
Nero strode into the maintenance area, buried in the bowels of the House of Galen. Ahead, he saw Rory and Zhim working on the remnants of the robot they’d brought back from the factory.
The mangled metal was laid out on a scarred metal workbench. Zhim sat in front of a comp screen, feverishly tapping at it, while Rory leaned over the guts of the robot.
“This comp is out of date,” Zhim complained. “I can organize an upgrade to a far better machine.”
“It’s two months old,” a deep voice said.
That’s when Nero noticed Galen. The imperator was leaning against the wall, watching the dissection, and Kace was beside him. But Kace was watching Rory, not the work.
“Like I said,” Zhim said. “Out of date and inferior.”
“You’ll have to suffer through,” Galen said dryly.
“Anything?” Nero asked.
Galen scowled. “Lots of talk about reinforced shielding this, and enhanced programming that.”
“It’s like they’re speaking an unknown alien language,” Kace murmured.
Rory blew the man a kiss, her hands deep in the guts of the robot. “It’s geek-speak, pretty boy.” She held up something glittery and spongy. “This is so sophisticated. I haven’t seen anything like this on Carthago before.”
She tilted it so Zhim could see, and the man frowned and shook his head.
Nero knew that the Earth engineer had been spending a lot of time learning all about the technology of Carthago. If she and Zhim hadn’t seen it before…
“And there’s reverse-triple-thread encryption on this data.” Zhim drummed his fingers on the table before they flew across the screen in an intricate dance. “Fascinating. Finally, a challenge.”
There was eagerness in his voice. As Nero watched the pair work, he stared at the intact arms of the robot. It hadn’t looked very fascinating dragging Winter across the floor.
But she’d gotten her revenge. He remembered exactly how she’d looked after defeating the robot—fierce, angry, and strong.
She was not what he’d first guessed. She had an inner core of strength that shone through everything else. She didn’t let anything get her down, or stop her.
“How’s Blue?” Rory asked.
The imperator nodded. “Fine, actually. Being out, and actively helping to find Mia, seems to have soothed some of his wilder edges. He’s talking a little more.” Galen’s icy gaze swung Nero’s way. “And Winter?”
Nero fought off a scowl. “Fine. Her injuries were minor.” He still hated that she’d been hurt. He thought of the ugly red scrapes marring her perfect, pale skin.
“Spines of steel, these women of Earth,” Kace said.
Rory blew him another kiss. Then her face turned serious. “Ah-ha.” She lifted a small, metal component up in the air, the light glinting off it. “I found a serial number etched on here.” She looked at Zhim. “Can you track it?”
Zhim nodded, inputting the alien letters. “Of course, I can. And…I think I’ve almost broken some of this encryption.”
Rory patted her belly. “Cracking encryptions is like being pregnant, Zhim. You either are or you aren’t. You have or you haven’t.”
Zhim’s gaze lingered on her belly. “Well, your stomach is large. There is no doubting the gladiator implanted a child in you.”
Kace made a growling sound, and Rory grinned at him. The computer chimed and Zhim swung back to the screen. “There’s a hit on the serial number.”
Nero strode forward, Galen and Kace right behind him. They crowded in behind Zhim, waiting for the information to appear on the screen.
Nero really wanted a name. He wanted to know whoever had attacked Winter…because they would pay.
“Stimulus Corp,” Zhim said.
“What the drak is Stimulus Corp?” Galen asked.
“No idea, but I’ll find out. At first glance, it appears to be a local holding company.” Zhim swiped at the screen. “Okay, Stimulus owns some smaller companies. Spark Industries. Incitement Group. They all sell some very high-tech, experimental items. Mostly related to computer systems.” He whistled. “I know some of this tech. I even own some of it. It’s good stuff.”
Nero frowned. “Stimulus. Incitement. Spark. Catalyst.”
Galen’s head whipped around. “You think Catalyst tried to snatch Winter in the factory?”
Nero nodded.
“Yes!” Zhim spun, smiling. “Stimulus Corp is owned by Catalyst.”
“Who the drak is this Catalyst?” Nero demanded.
A muscle ticked in Galen’s jaw. “Keep looking, Zhim. I want to know who this scum-sucker is. And where he is.”
“I can think of someone who might know.” The information merchant’s face turned serious. “The Thraxians.”
Galen cursed.
“They’ve dealt with him before, and are locked in a feud with him right now.”
Galen ran a hand over his head. “As am I. I am not their favorite person.” He muttered a curse. “I guess I’ll have to have a little talk with the Imperator of the House of Thrax.”
Nero scowled. Right. Like the House of Thrax would happily help the House of Galen. They knew Galen planned to dismantle the House of Thrax, piece by piece.
The comp pinged again and Zhim turned back to it. “I broke some of the encryption.” The man grinned. “I am good.”
“And modest,” Rory added.
But Zhim’s smile dissolved. “This looks like a partial video.”
The screen filled with an image. Nero saw Winter’s frightened face and he clenched his teeth. They all watched the attack by the robot, it dragging her away, her fighting for her life.
“You go, girl,” Rory murmured.
It finished with Winter stabbing wildly at the machine. Then the screen went blank.
“Take it back earlier, if you can,” Galen said. “Before Winter’s attack.”
Zhim nodded, and a second later, more pictures filled the screen.
Nero frowned, watching lots of images of the factory. Then the images changed. “Look there!”
It was the desert. Pale dunes colored by the blazing balls of Carthago’s two suns as they slipped over the horizon. There were also strange rock formations nearby. Tall, twisting spires of rock that speared into the air.
Then, he heard the sounds of struggling and cursing. A female’s voice. The recording device turned, and he caught a glimpse of Mia.
She was the smallest of the Earth women, and they were already small compared to most alien species. But she didn’t appear delicate or fragile. She was fit and compact, her hair cut very short, leaving blonde wisps around her face. She had big, blue eyes that in that moment looked furious.
Then an arm flashed across the screen, striking her in the face. She flopped down on the sand, unconscious.
Nero shook his head, filled with the sudden urge to kick something. The image panned again, and he got a good view of the rock formations.
He tensed. “Freeze it.”
Zhim did, zooming in. “They’re just rocks. The desert is littered with them.”
Nero swore. “There’s someone hiding in the shadows, near the rock formation on the left.”
Now Zhim frowned, tapping the comp. “I’ll see if I can enhance it. It might take some time.”
“Thank you, Zhim, and you too, Rory,” Galen said. “As soon as you have more, inform me.” Then he looked at his gladiators. “Now, we have a small exhibition match against the House of Rone. I need you all to get ready.” Galen’s lips twitched. “I have a bet with a certain cyborg imperator and I don’t want to lose it.”
Nero glanced once more at the screen, frustrated that there was nothing more he could do for the hunt right now.
Maybe a fight was just what he needed to ease his frustration.
And perhaps the idea that a certain dark-haired woman of Earth would be watching him made the idea even more appealing.
***
Nero stepped into the arena, sand crunching under his boots. It was a small crowd tonight, but still an energized atmosphere.
He liked the smaller, exhibition matches. The arena felt different, more focused. Flanking him, his fellow House of Galen gladiators waited. Raiden was fighting with Harper tonight. The pair whispered quietly to each other, relaxed and smiling. Nero had to admit, the pair fought with a synchronicity that was enviable.
Lore was on one side of Nero, and Thorin on the other with Kace. Blaine was fighting with Saff tonight, and they were trading teasing insults behind him.
Nero glanced toward the stands, and saw the remaining women sitting in the House of Galen seats. His gaze zeroed in on Winter. He lifted his hand. She smiled and waved back.
The sound of the crowd changed to a roar and he turned to see the House of Rone gladiators stepping out of the tunnel on the opposite side of the arena.
The eight gladiators—six men and two women—were all big. Broad-shouldered and muscled, they moved across the sand with controlled power.
These were no slaves or indentured fighters. These were well-trained, experienced gladiators.
Nero smiled. Good. He liked a challenge. He glanced one more time to the stands. Winter was watching. Not that he wanted her to watch, or that he was showing off, or anything.
The House of Galen gladiators moved toward their rivals, meeting them in the center of the arena.
A big gladiator with dark skin and a scarred chest stepped forward. His eyes were a brilliant, diamond-white. He held a huge longsword. “Is the House of Galen ready to eat sand, and fall under the boots of the House of Rone?”
Raiden stepped forward, the wind catching at his red cloak. “Xias, your taunts get more dramatic every time we fight.”
“You’ll spout poetry next,” Thorin called out.
The Rone gladiator smiled. “Did you like it?”
“He’s been practicing,” a female gladiator said from beside Xias. She was only a few inches shorter than the man, her powerful body covered in a leather bodysuit.
“Still needs a bit more work.” Raiden clasped forearms with the gladiator. Then Raiden lowered his voice. “And it will be the House of Rone who will be kissing the sand.”
Xias’ smile widened. “We’ll see.”
They stepped back and a moment later, the starting horn sounded.
Nero lifted his sword, and saw Lore spinning his sword beside him. Flashy as always.
Then he caught the gaze of one of the Rone gladiators and they charged at each other. Metal rang against metal. Nero used all his strength as he dodged and swung. He used some of the new moves he’d practiced with Raiden. He scored a hit, causing the other gladiator to grunt and drop his sword.
But the man rolled, snatched up his weapon, and was back on his feet in the next second.
As the gladiator attacked again with force, Nero moved backward across the sand. Lore was close in on his left, fighting his own opponent. A second later, there was a bright burst of color and smoke. One of Lore’s illusions.
The crowd cheered. The smoke curled around the fighters, and Nero saw the shapes of flying beasts moving in it.
Nero ducked, the Rone gladiator’s sword whooshing overhead. He jumped up and swung his own weapon. He opened up a thin line across the gladiator’s chest.
The man scowled, determination on his face. He rushed at Nero again.
Yes, the House of Rone always provided a good challenge. But tonight, Nero was energized by the emotions he wanted to work out of his system, and his audience.
He caught a quick glimpse of Harper leaping through the air. The woman could jump higher than anyone he’d ever seen. She landed on a gladiator’s back, riding him to the sand. Nearby, Raiden was fighting with his usual powerful, no-nonsense style that made him the Champion of the Kor Magna Arena.
Nero’s sword crashed against his opponent’s. The man lost his balance, and Nero planted his boot in the man’s gut, sending him to the sand.
A flash of movement.
Nero spun, just as the second female gladiator rushed at him.
He whirled, the tip of her sword a whisper away from his skin. She smiled devilishly at him, and they circled each other.
She was a little shorter than the other female, but still tall and strong. His usual type of woman.
They surged together, swords striking in a series of blows and blocks. She laughed—a full-bodied sound that echoed around him. He admired her power and speed, and as he blocked another swing of her sword, the movement bringing them close, he realized he didn’t feel more than a tiny spark of appreciation.
Nero pulled back with a frown. Instead, he was thinking of slim limbs, pale skin, and a stubborn chin.
He threw himself back into the fight, shoving the distracting thoughts away.
Finally, the horn sounded again. In exhibition matches, the gladiators only fought for a set length of time. There were no winners or losers.
“Good fight, gladiator,” the woman said.
He nodded. “You, too.”
Around him, there were a lot of good-natured taunts, and backslapping.
Lore came up and slung an arm across Nero’s shoulders. “That female Rone gladiator has her eye on you, my friend.” Lore waggled his eyebrows. “I foresee that you are going to get very lucky this evening.”
“What?” Nero shook his head, glancing back at the woman. “I didn’t see her watching me.”
His fight partner frowned skeptically. “You didn’t notice?”
Nero focused on the tunnel. “Come on. I want to see if Zhim found anything more in the video he got off the robot.”
Lore shook his head, looking bewildered. “You didn’t notice the sexy woman who was interested in you?” He shook his head again. “Okay, go check the video. I’ll meet you at the party in the living quarters.”
Nero paused. “Party?”
“Small. Just a few drinks.”
Nero didn’t bother to shower and change. He headed straight down to the maintenance area. The computer was on, lights blinking, but Zhim wasn’t there.
Letting out a harsh breath, Nero headed up to the living quarters. Inside, the hubbub of conversation and the clink of glassware reached his ears. From the doorway, he scanned the room. Galen was talking with Magnus Rone in the center of the space. The room was filled with a mix of gladiators and guests.
Nero spotted Zhim’s dark head. “Why aren’t you working on the video?”
Zhim turned, lifting a glass filled with a neon-green drink. “I am. I don’t need to sit there and watch it, gladiator.” The man’s gaze was on Nero’s face, sharp and considering. “I have several enhancement programs running. It could be a few hours yet.”
Frustrated, Nero looked around the room. He spotted Harper, Regan, Rory, and Madeline, but he kept looking for another dark head.
Lore appeared, handing Nero a glass of Nero’s favorite ale.
“Looking for that female gladiator?” Lore asked. “Her name is Esha, by the way.”
Nero blinked. “Who?”
Lore’s eyebrows furrowed. “Okay, something is really going on with you.”
Nero took a sip of his drink, searching the crowd again. “Nothing is going on.” Where was Winter? “I need a drink.”
“You have a drink.”
Ignoring Lore, Nero moved through the partygoers. Near the window, he arched his head. That’s when he spotted her through the glass window, shrouded in darkness. She was sitting out on the balcony.
He pushed open the door and headed out. “Hi.”
Winter was sitting on a couch, her feet tucked up under her, and her face tilted toward the night sky.
She turned her head and smiled. “Nero. The fight was amazing.”
“Thanks.” He sat down beside her. “How are you feeling?”
“Perfectly fine. And I don’t need a lecture about how I shouldn’t have been on the mission.”
His chest tightened. Is that what she thought he was thinking? He took a sip of his drink to wet his throat. “I wasn’t going to say that. You held your own on the mission.” He felt her staring at him. “Why are you looking up at the sky?”
“I wish I could see the stars.” Her voice was wistful. “I can see a few blue twinkles, but that’s about it.”
“The Hermia healers are still working on restoring your vision?”
“Yes.” She plucked at her blue dress. “But I think we all know the chances of that happening are very slim now.”
There was pain in her voice and it cut at him.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” she continued. “Back on Earth, there are people who would kill to have a vision device like the one I’ve got. And even without my vision…I’m still me.”
Nero decided she needed a distraction. “Tell me about your planet.”
“Earth? It’s mostly water. We have vast oceans.” She bit down on her bottom lip and Nero watched her teeth sink into her plump flesh. “It’s cold at the poles, and tropical at the equator.”
“You have family?”
“Just my mother and brother. Mom will miss me. We were pretty close. My brother—” she shrugged. “We aren’t that close. He might miss me, when it suits him.” She shifted, and Nero got a peek at delicate feet wrapped in ribbons that came part way up her slender calves. “Tell me about your home world?”
“You already know a lot. A planet of harsh landscapes and weather. We have frozen ice plains to the north, dense jungles in the middle, and hot deserts to the south.”
“Do you miss it?”
He was quiet as he considered. “I feel some nostalgia. I miss the fresh air and the thrill of hunting Symerian beasts. But this is my home now, and my loyalty is to the House of Galen.”
“It is always hard when you are snatched away from the things you love.”
He released a breath. “I wasn’t abducted. I was given to the slavers.”
“What?”
His hand tightened on his glass and he stared at the amber fluid. “I was leading a hunting party on the plains. We were tracking a large, cunning creature called a ratooth. The alien slavers landed and attacked. We fought back.”
Winter shifted, her gaze on his face. “What happened?”
“We fought, but we weren’t a match for their advanced weapons. I fought until I was bloody and could barely stand. They slaughtered my warriors, and I saw them snatch my younger brother and sister.”
“Oh, Nero.” She grabbed his hand.
He felt that touch all the way through him.
“The aliens must have thought I was dead, and they left. My father found me.”
Her fingers tightened on his.
“I had shamed my warlord and my clan. I wasn’t strong enough, and I didn’t die in battle like my warriors. I let the warlord’s children be taken. As the hunting party leader, it was my responsibility to protect them.”
“Your father blamed you?” she said incredulously.
“For a long time, I blamed myself. I had been raised to believe in strength and might, honed by hours of daily training.”
“When did you start your training?”
“After my third birthday.” He took a long gulp of his drink. “The aliens returned not long after. My father, being a smart warlord, brokered a deal. He offered twenty strong, capable slaves to them to make them go away and return my siblings. I was the first one selected.”
“He gave you away?” She turned, fully facing him. “That is barbaric, Nero! One, to blame you and two, to abandon his child.”
“It is the barbarian way.”
“Yeah, well the barbarian way sucks.” She reached out and squeezed his bicep. “You don’t still believe that strength only has something to do with this, do you?”
That small touch rocketed through Nero, and he struggled to find words. “For a long time, I did. Then Galen and the others showed me that being smart and learning were important, too.” Winter gave a satisfied nod. Nero lowered his voice. “Watching you has taught me that true strength has very little to do with muscles.”
Her face softened. “Thank you.” Her gaze dropped to his lips and she pulled in a shuddering breath. “Nero?”
He knew she felt it, too, this connection that neither of them wanted or could ignore.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.
She went still for a second, then her arms flew around his neck, and her mouth opened under his.
Heat flowed through Nero with the strength of a firestorm. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and dragged her into his lap.