by Jayne Ripley
She wasn’t alone after all. She had Nahkar and Darkon.
“The next fighting showcase is scheduled for three GSDN from now,” Nahkar said.
Her brow furrowed. “GSDN?”
“Galactic Standard Day-Night cycles,” Darkon explained.
“But wouldn’t that be GSDNC?” she mused. “Galactic Standard Day-Night Cycles? That’s how acronyms work, right?”
Darkon shrugged and flashed her a charming grin that made her panties want to evaporate into steam. “I don’t make the rules, I just break them.”
“You don’t break them as good as I do,” Nahkar stated, folding muscular arms that seemed as thick as tree trunks.
“That kick to the head obviously broke what little brains you still had, my friend. I have been a consummate rule-breaking rogue for years.”
She laughed, her heart suddenly filling with warmth for these two alien males she had only just met but who felt so very close to her now.
She would never forget how they had both come to comfort her and dry her tears. You might be a sex god in the bedroom—and what woman didn’t want that?—but if you couldn’t dry a woman’s tears and comfort her, you would never be the perfect man.
These two were something special. She wouldn’t forget it.
She only had three days to make the most of it.
Three days until the next scheduled fights…
CHAPTER EIGHT
Darkon
The roar of the crowd vibrated through the walls of the Aixen Arena and into Darkon’s prep room. He was alone in the small room, readying himself for his upcoming battle.
The three days with Jennifer in a palatial suite had zipped past as quick as a blink. There had been lots of talking, telling stories, lots of laughing. That was one of the things he enjoyed most. The laughter. Jennifer laughed often and laughed well. It was one of the reasons she had so easily stolen his heart.
He and Nahkar had not fought again. There were some insults. That was a given. But they both had been making an effort. For Jennifer’s sake.
Right now, the only thing he regretted was not getting Jennifer naked and eager into his bed. That was selfish. He knew it. But it was also something he ached for. They had not spoken of a threesome—of the da’katal—since that one time. He feared it would not come to pass. He was afraid she would be forced to choose between them…or choose neither of them, which would be even worse.
Another wild roar from the crowd shook the walls, scattering his distracting thoughts of the last few days. He wondered who was out there fighting in the arena right now. Not Nahkar. As the arena’s top fighter, he was always last. After Darkon’s battle, he would be able to watch Nahkar fight from a room that had a viewscreen. This one didn’t.
So right now, he had to sit and wait and wonder what kind of creature they’d have him face tonight. A razor-dreng? Maybe. But he’d fought one of those not too long ago. Something entirely new? That was always dangerous, facing off against some huge new predator trapped on some hostile Outer Rim world. You never knew what to expect.
Unlike Nahkar, Darkon wasn’t eager to have Jennifer see him fight. Nahkar wanted to show her how strong, powerful, and victorious he was. He wanted to show her he was a champion.
But Darkon knew she wouldn’t enjoy watching them battle monsters. She would be afraid they might be killed. She wasn’t the kind of person who would enjoy the blood sport either. He’d wanted her to stay in the suite and not watch the fights on the viewscreen. But that strange cyborg Bevelle had shown up and told them point blank that she was required to go. Their owner required her to watch. Defiance would lead to punishment.
His anger had burned hot at that, but in the end, none of them had any choice but to obey.
He sat on the bench with his avashi spear balanced across his thighs. His black armor mask lay on the bench beside him. He was leaning against the wall, waiting. His breathing was slow and even. Focus was the key. If he grew distracted by thoughts of Jennifer, he was likely to make a mistake in the upcoming fight.
In the arena, any mistake, no matter how small, could easily mean death.
He heard a burst of cheering from the crowd. He smiled a little. He hoped one of the arena fighters—comrades, most of them, and a few of them friends—had just won against some fanged horror and not the other way around.
Sometimes the crowds cheered for the monsters.
The door to the small prep room slid open. His eyes widened, and he broke into a wide smile when he saw who it was. The familiar blue skin and silver eyes of a fellow Quindon were always a good sight to see, but this particular Quindon had been a dear friend for a long time.
“Masyra,” he said, more than a little surprised. She had never come to see him right before a match. Usually, they met deep in the city, far from the palace. “It’s good to see you.”
Her quick, intelligent eyes glanced him over from head to toe. “Good. You have fewer holes than I expected after seeing that insanity you got into with the Jandami and the imperial guard. What were you thinking?”
“Who says I was thinking?” he quipped, grinning.
Masyra worked in the Quasarask Station’s control room for the Section Two docking and loading bays. She was trained as a spymaster and had been one of his household on Ketera until his exile. She was loyal to him. She was still loyal, even though he hadn’t used the title of prince since being driven from his homeworld.
He had no idea why she hadn’t given up on him. Every few months she offered to help him escape Quasarask, to smuggle him off the station to a safe place she knew about. But he never took her up on the offer, even when she cursed him for a stubborn fool. He never wanted to put her at risk.
Maybe it was more than that, though. He was a slave. He should want his freedom. Isn’t that what Jennifer wanted more than anything? So what was wrong with him? He had never really faced that question. He had avoided it. But when Jennifer burst into his life, it had changed things. Stirred up things he thought long in the past. She had only lost her freedom recently. It had been years since he’d been made a slave and sold off. After his exile, he’d been in a very dark place. He could admit it now. His optimism had died then, and it died again after he lost what little he’d had left. He’d lost his freedom.
He gestured Masyra to a nearby chair. “Sit, please. Tell me why you’ve come.”
It had to be important if she’d taken the risk of seeing him here after all that had happened. He looked her over, trying to read her expression and body language. She was worried. That was clear, even though she was trying to cover it with her gruff insults and sarcasm.
Masyra was a few galactic-standard years older than him. She was wearing her work uniform: a gray and black outfit that worked well with her skin color. She had the silver eyes of his people, and the anai markings on her hairless head made a pretty pattern. One fact that many other species didn’t know about his people was that those patterns were completely unique to each individual Quindon.
“I saw the holo-vids of you killing those Jandami slavers,” she said, closing the door and moving across the room. “Many people believe you and Nahkar are heroes. They think you were saving that alien female. They believe you were making a statement.”
“Nahkar looks more like a hero. But me? I was happy to kill Jandami. There was no statement.”
He didn’t reveal that Nahkar had been caught up in what was basically a mating frenzy and was out of his mind with the need to protect Jennifer no matter what. Masyra was an old and dear friend, but for some reason, he felt like he should respect Nahkar and keep that information to himself.
He set his spear aside as she took the offered seat. There were scan cameras here, but no one was recording their words. It was safe to talk with her about anything. Or it had to be if she was willing to come here and risk it. She wasn’t stupid or incompetent.
“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.
“Why would you think anything’s wrong?” she demanded
. She sat back in the chair and crossed her arms and scowled at him. “My prince is okay with being a slave owned by a corporation and risking his life for a bloodthirsty crowd. He does it as some kind of masochistic punishment for being exiled. As if it was his fault.”
Ouch. That cut right to the heart of it. She was pulling no punches today.
“Your lectures aside, that isn’t anything new. Why are you here now?”
“That’s because when I showed up at the barracks, your friends there told me you’d been sold off and were now living on some exclusive floor in the palace, locked in with Nahkar Ka-Razal and that female alien.” Her eyes narrowed. “She is the cause of all this trouble, isn’t she?”
He rubbed along his jawline. “What makes you say that?”
“I knew it. She looked like trouble.”
“You’re wrong. She’s kind and sweet, but she has some real fire too. You’d like her.”
“Yeah, that’s why I know she’s trouble. Especially if I’d like her.” She sighed. “Look, Darkon, I have to tell you some things that are going on. Things you need to know.”
“Here on the station or back on Ketera?”
“Both.” Her silver eyes were filled with concern. He didn’t know what he’d ever done to earn her loyalty, but he appreciated it. He appreciated her friendship even more.
“Let me guess. Those Kindros Family bastards have fallen from power. My exile has been revoked. I can finally return home to live in the royal luxury that is my destiny.”
“You aren’t even close to the mark. I talked with a few of my old contacts back on Ketera. The Kindros have been talking with bounty hunters.” She glanced at his mask. “You went through the trouble of wearing that ugly mask to hide your face for arena fights, but then you were recorded fighting with those slavers. The Kindros know who you are. Not a fighter-slave named Darkon Trava, but Prince Darkyne Matrava of Ketera.”
He closed his eyes. It had only been a kind of bold, dumb luck that had let him be one of the most famous fighters at Aixen and not have the Kindros—who’d staged the coup that had sent him fleeing his home—discover his identity and send bounty hunters or assassins to deal with him. So the game was up. He wasn’t surprised. But since he was property now, they couldn’t simply kill him or bring him home in chains. Not without buying him first.
Of course, that wouldn’t be difficult for those usurping Kindros bastards. After the coup, they had all his wealth.
He would need to keep this secret from Jennifer. She had enough to worry about already. He didn’t need to trouble her with his problems. He certainly didn’t want to endanger her either.
“What else?” he pressed. “You mentioned that things were happening on the station I needed to know about.”
“I don’t have any connections at the palace…except one.” She surprised him with a sweet, shy smile. It wasn’t a usual smile from the feisty Masyra that he knew so well. “I’m involved with one of the guards there.”
He grinned, delighted for her. “I’m glad to hear it. You were always a good catch. When do I get to meet this young man from the palace? You’ll need my approval before you marry—”
She punched him on the shoulder. Hard.
“Hey,” he said. “Be gentle. Do I need to remind you that I was once your prince?”
“No. I’m the one who always has to remind you of that,” she shot back, her eyes flashing.
Again. Ouch. She was certainly riled up today. He stopped fooling around and held her gaze. “Tell me what your friend said about the palace.”
“It’s gossip, but I think it holds truth. Princess Piedasa is said to be furious. She’s been talking to the Aixen gamemasters.” Masyra shook her head, her expression deeply troubled. “She’s up to something. Many are claiming it has something to do with your fight with the Jandami over that female slave.” She let out a bitter curse. Masyra had always been able to swear with the best of them. “That entire off-shoot branch of the imperial family is always up to something devious, but she is pure trouble.”
He remembered when the princess had shown up at their rooms and couldn’t agree more. But the lack of detail was frustrating. “Do you know anything specific?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t. But you needed to know before this fight. Something is going on, and I don’t know what it is. You need to be careful.”
“I will.” She was cutting it extremely close, coming to him on the night of the fights. Then again, he’d been locked away in that luxury suite, and she couldn’t get through the palace security. She had gone above and beyond to reach him now. As usual.
So the Kindros knew he was still alive and where he was. That was bad news, no matter how he looked at it. Added to the rumors about a crazy, spoiled princess on the rampage, it all added up to a disaster in the making.
He had spent years here as a slave, losing himself in the constant fighting. In the blood and sweat and thrill of battle. He hid behind a mask. He tried to forget who he had been. Masyra had tried to help him, but he had always rebuffed her efforts.
He believed he was not worthy of her help. He didn’t want to put anyone else at risk for him. He convinced himself he was always an optimist, that he would always win his battles no matter how big and dangerous the creatures they threw at him might be. But was that really true? Maybe he wasn’t an optimist. Maybe he stayed a slave to wallow in a kind of brutal punishment because he had failed his people. Failed his friends.
But now he had to think of Jennifer. Ever since that night he’d comforted her, he knew he had lost his heart to her. She meant too much to him now. He had not even taken her to bed yet, and already her claim on him was stronger than any slaver chain.
He had to get Jennifer off this station. She could not remain a slave. It was time for him to stop shirking his duties and be a leader again.
For her.
Masyra was watching him closely as if she could read some of the thoughts flashing through his mind. He looked into her silver eyes, grateful beyond words for all she had risked for him. Someday he hoped he could introduce her to Jennifer. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Masyra that she’d like her.
“I hate to ask, Masyra—”
“You want me to help you escape from the station,” she said, leaning forward. Eagerness shone in her eyes. “Done.”
That pulled a laugh out of him. “I’m not worthy of a friend like you.”
She smiled at that. “You’re right, but you have me anyway. Your Highness, I’ll do whatever you need. You’re thinking you need a ship.”
He nodded. He was an excellent pilot. He could fly almost anything from a garbage scow to an imperial starfighter. “I’ll need help getting into the docking bays and through the hull doors and shielding. The ship needs to be fast, hyperspace ready, and able to carry at least three people. One of them is very oversized.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Your slave girl and…Nahkar Ka-Razal? Are you serious?”
“Very serious. Can you do that? It will be risky. I hate putting you in danger—”
“Pah,” she said, waving a hand and cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter. I will do whatever you need.” She paused, eyeing him so sharply it made him uncomfortable. “This female slave…she must mean a lot to you.”
“She does. And Nahkar’s my friend. We all need to leave. Together. And soon.”
She was still looking at him closely, her expression full of speculation. “You’ve changed, Your Highness. I approve.”
“Don’t go wagering on me yet,” he told her with a smirk. “I still have to survive tonight.” He slid a hand along the anai patterns on his head. “I have a bad feeling that’s going to be the easy part. After that, I need to somehow convince Nahkar and Jennifer that the da’katal is a great idea.”
Her eyes widened, then she chuckled ruefully. “I will be honest. I don’t envy you that. Although I think this female of yours is luckier than she can imagine.” Masyra paused, thinking fast and hard. “I’ll need some
time to get everything arranged. I’ll put things in motion as fast as I can.”
“You should leave with us. Bring your lover. We’ll all go together. I don’t want either of you to suffer for helping me.”
Putting people he cared about in danger was too much to ask. It was something he’d hated about being a prince, about being in power. Asking others to risk themselves for him had never sat well with him. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he was doing penance now and taking his own life in his hands every time his owners sent him into the arena against some new abomination.
Masyra considered his words honestly and didn’t blow him off with easy reassurances.
“There will be some risk; I won’t lie to you. But it’s not likely. I’ve been doing things like this for years. I’m an expert at covering my tracks. After all, how do you think so many cheap, non-taxed goods get onto the station?” Her grin was naughty. “I make a good bit on the side with some creative smuggling and rule-bending. So thank you for worrying about me, but I’ll be fine. If things get dangerous, I promise to leave and find you again.”
“Bring your new love with you. I would be honored to meet him.”
Again she turned a bit shy—which was completely out of character for Masyra—and smiled prettily. He could see the happiness in her eyes. It warmed his heart.
“I will. I promise.”
He had to say it again, just so she wouldn’t forget. “I don’t deserve a friend like you.”
She beamed even wider at him. “And that’s exactly why you have a friend like me. You recognize how truly great I really am.”
She left on a wave of his laughter. By the five gods of Vakar, he would miss her. He prayed she would be safe staying behind. Helping the three of them escape would be a huge risk, even if she had experience helping him flee his homeworld. Or even if she had experience here, smuggling goods in and out of the station and dodging security protocols. She deserved happiness and safety in her life, and here he was, putting her at risk again.
