Champion: A Scifi Alien Romance (Galactic Gladiators Book 5)

by Anna Hackett

  Shit. Time slowed down. Blaine knew he was falling at the wrong angle. If he hit the ground like this, he’d break his neck. Air rushed around him, the Srinar kicking as he fell.

  A second later, there was a rush of sound. A net wrapped around Blaine, slowing his fall. It held him for a second, tangled on the railing of the building. Then it let go and he fell the last few meters to the ground, but far slower.

  He hit the dirt with an oof. Struggling out of the net, Blaine sat up and saw Saff running toward him.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “Thanks to you.” He got to his feet, dusting himself off, and turned his head.

  The Srinar hadn’t been as lucky. The man had landed on the sand nearby, his neck and arms twisted at bad angles.

  Blaine cursed. “Goddammit.”

  Then he turned…just as Saff slammed a fist into his belly. The air exploded out of him, and he looked into furious, dark eyes.

  Chapter Six

  “Are you trying to kill yourself?” Saff wrestled with a vicious surge of anger, and other emotions she refused to name.

  Blaine had raced after the Srinar, with no thought to his own safety. He’d nearly broken his drakking neck, and her hands were shaking just remembering. Her hands never shook.

  He ran a hand over his head. “No.”

  “You did a good impression of it.” She turned toward the Srinar.

  Blaine grabbed her arm. Saff spun and shoved him back a step.

  “Saff—”

  “You aren’t still down there, having to risk your life.” The words shot out of her.

  He stared at her for a moment. “I know.”

  “I’m not sure you do.” She brushed past him to the downed Srinar. She pressed a hand against the man’s neck. He was dead.

  Galen and the others appeared. The imperator stared at the Srinar impassively. “The shop owner talked. The Corsair Caravan came through here. They thought they were being followed. They’re only an hour ahead of us.”

  Good. Saff nodded. They could still catch up with them.

  “Why was this man spying on us?” Blaine was staring down at the Srinar.

  “To warn someone if the House of Galen came in pursuit,” Saff said. “But he didn’t have the chance.”

  “As far as we know,” Blaine said.

  “Nothing we can do now but catch the caravan.” Galen strode back toward their tarnids. Duna was waiting with the animals. Soon, they were all mounted and heading out of Harmony.

  Back in the monotony of the desert, Saff brushed her arm across her face. She really hated it out here in the heat and sand. It certainly made her appreciate the walls of the arena and the comforts she had at the House of Galen.

  She purposely didn’t look at Blaine.

  “I can see something,” Duna called out. The girl was standing up in her stirrups, looking ahead.

  Saff craned her neck and, for a second, she wasn’t sure what she was looking at. All she could see were small mounds on the ground.

  Then she realized.

  They were bodies.

  “Yah!” Duna kicked her beast into a gallop. Galen was right behind her.

  Saff rode hard, and soon pulled up beside Galen. She stared at the bodies and a few crates of goods smashed open on the desert floor. “They were ambushed.”

  Duna nodded. “Sand pirates.”

  Nice. Saff scanned their surroundings. There were several bodies and a few dead tarnids, as well. Thankfully, she didn’t see anyone who looked small enough to be one of the women from Earth.

  They all dismounted and started looking around. Saff pulled out her water bladder and took a long drink. The world where she’d grown up had a warm climate but also a lot of water—so the desert wasn’t her favorite place.

  She hooked the bladder back on her saddle, and patted her tarnid’s neck. Then she followed along, as the others searched the bodies. She saw Blaine’s back was stiff as he checked each corpse. She realized he was still worried one of them could be Dayna, Mia, or Winter.

  Saff rolled one body over, staring at the dead pirate. He wore ragtag clothes designed for the desert, and had rough skin, toughened by the desert wind and sun. There were several black scorch marks on his chest.

  Sand pirates weren’t well organized, and roamed in small bands. They’d steal anything they could get their hands on.

  “There are more pirate bodies over here.” Duna kicked a mound of sand. “If they have time, the pirates bury their dead facing the setting suns.”

  “They didn’t get the entire caravan,” Galen said, his gaze on the horizon. “Corsair can’t be much farther ahead.”

  Saff pulled herself back into the saddle. “But they’ll be expecting more company.” And if she was in charge of the caravan, she’d shoot first and ask questions later.

  They rode hard, leaning low over their tarnids. The pounding of hooves echoed in her ears. She glanced at Blaine and saw his face was set in hard lines, his body taut. She frowned at him. He was strung pretty tight—from his ordeal and from his need to find the women. What happened if he broke?

  “There!” Thorin called out.

  The man had very good eyesight, and it took a few more seconds before Saff could make out the dark shapes in the shimmering heat ahead.

  “Watch out!” Duna screamed.

  There was a whistling sound overhead. Saff blinked against the bright suns and saw a flaming arrow shooting through the sky.

  Her tarnid reared up, and she fought to control it. More fire arrows rained down into the sand around them. She heard the men cursing.

  Blaine’s tarnid sprinted ahead. Galen roared at him, and Saff’s heart lodged in her throat as she watched Blaine dodging the arrows and moving ahead of their group. She kicked her beast into a gallop. Drak him. She wasn’t going to let him get himself killed.

  “We aren’t sand pirates!” Blaine yelled. “We’re a rescue mission. We’ll pay for information.”

  The caravan was in a circular formation, their beasts and transports forming a protective wall. More arrows fired…straight at Blaine.

  Quickly, Saff snatched a net device and lobbed it. It exploded in front of the arrows, falling just short of Blaine before his tarnid trampled it.

  “We’re House of Galen!” Saff yelled. “Stand down.”

  The barrage of arrows cut off. Saff stopped her tarnid close to Blaine. Before she slid off, Blaine was there, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her down.

  “Do I look like I can’t dismount myself?” she asked.

  He held her close for a second, smelling of sweat and smoke. “No.”

  “Then why lift me down?”

  “So I can get my hands on you.”

  Blunt, simple words. Her young boy-toy lovers liked to shower her in nonsense flattery about her beauty, and they always left her rolling her eyes. Blaine’s words went straight to her gut.

  “I don’t want a reckless man intent on getting himself killed.”

  A muscle ticked in Blaine’s jaw. “I…lose control. But I don’t want to die.”

  She was still annoyed with him and shoved him away. The rest of her friends arrived, and together, the House of Galen gladiators found themselves facing an armed group of caravan soldiers. They stood in front of their motley group of vehicles and beasts.

  Suddenly, the group parted, and a man strode forward. He had a swagger to go with his well-built body and lean hips. He wore desert clothes of a pale-tan color, and a dark leather belt loaded with weapons around his waist. Leather straps also crossed his chest, holding various knives. Shaggy brown hair, tinted gold by the sunlight, curled around a handsome, rugged face.

  The man had desert rogue stamped all over him. As she eyed the weapons, Saff wondered if he’d ever been a gladiator.

  “I’m Caravan Master Corsair.” His voice was a smooth drawl. “This is my caravan.”

  Galen stepped forward. “I’m Galen, Imperator of the House of Galen.”

  The car
avan master’s golden eyes widened a little. “I’ve heard of you. Why are you attacking my caravan, Imperator?”

  “You attacked us,” Saff said.

  Blaine made a growling sound.

  “Easy,” Galen said before looking back at the caravan master. “We wish you no harm, Corsair. I received information that someone on your caravan is transporting women. Women who were abducted from my house and who have my protection.” Galen’s voice was sharp as a blade. “We’ve come to take them back.”

  Corsair shook his head. “The only women on this caravan are travelers who’ve paid their fare. Women who are known to me.” A look of distaste flowed across the man’s face. “I never allow prisoners to be transported on my caravan.”

  Saff studied Corsair, and saw Blaine was, too. She got the feeling that the man was telling the truth.

  Corsair swept a hand out. “You’re welcome to take a look.”

  “Thank you.” Galen jerked his head to Raiden and Harper. The couple slipped through the vehicles and beasts to meet the travelers. They were back minutes later, Harper looking upset. She shook her head.

  “Fucking Thraxians and Srinar.” Blaine kicked a boot through the sand. “This was to lead us out here and off the trail.”

  “Srinar?” Corsair straightened. “We were followed and attacked by sand pirates. They drove us off the main route, and before they died, one pirate mentioned the Srinar.”

  “What did he say?” Blaine demanded.

  Corsair’s mouth firmed into a hard line. “I didn’t keep him alive long enough to find out more.”

  “There was a Srinar spy in Harmony,” Galen said.

  Saff’s mind spun as she tried to piece it all together. “They wanted us out of the city.” By the stars, she hoped they hadn’t sent the women off-world.

  “But they also wanted Corsair off the regular caravan route, and for you to follow him,” a small voice piped up.

  Everyone turned to look at Duna. She was leaning against her tarnid.

  Galen nodded. “Duna makes a good point.” He stared out across the vast desert landscape. “They may have still transported the women into the desert and just sent us in the wrong direction.”

  Saff followed Galen’s gaze. So where had they taken the women?

  “Or this is all just a ruse to keep us off the real trail,” Blaine said. “And they’re back in Kor Magna.”

  “We know they aren’t with the Corsair Caravan,” Galen said. “So, we’ll keep looking. You have my thanks, Corsair.”

  The caravan master inclined his head. “I will keep an eye out for your missing women. If I spot them, I’ll get word to the House of Galen.”

  Galen nodded. “Let’s go.”

  They moved back toward the beasts, and Saff saw Blaine, hands by his sides, staring out across the desert. “Blaine?” Her shoulder brushed his arm.

  “If they’re out here, it’ll be like looking for a grain of sand in a sandstorm.” Emotion vibrated in his voice. “God, what are they going through? Do they know we’ll come for them?”

  “I know it feels like an impossible challenge.” Saff gripped his arm. When he pressed a hand over hers, she felt his need for the connection. “Once, freedom looked like that to me.”

  He glanced down at her. “Who took your freedom, Saff?”

  A part of her didn’t want to talk about the past. She’d buried it long ago, and never let herself think of it. But for some strange reason it tumbled out of her. “My father.”

  Blaine sucked in a breath.

  “I was born without my freedom. My mother was a concubine in my father’s harem. He was an emperor on a distant, backwater planet.”

  “So you were a princess?”

  She snorted. “Hardly. I was a slave. From the time I could walk, I was trained to fight. The abilities I inherited from my mother gave me just enough of an edge that I was earmarked as a fighter early on. My father loved to hold huge and lavish fight exhibitions for his guests. He had hundreds of concubines, and hundreds of children. The perfect pool to choose his fighters from.” Her heart felt like a hard knot in her chest. She hadn’t thought of her mother, or the man who’d fathered her, in years. Saff looked out across the unforgiving sands, thinking of things she would never understand. “My mother loved him.” Unresolved anger chewed through her like burning poison. “Despite him having so many other women, despite him owning her, and despite him putting her child—their child—in the arena to fight, she loved him.”’

  Saff had never understood the sad, desperate emotion her mother had called love.

  “What happened?” Blaine asked, quietly, tangling his fingers with hers.

  Saff had never held hands with a man. Most men feared her, were in awe of her, or found her not feminine enough. She looked at the way his blunt, scarred fingers looked against her more slender ones. “My father offered me in marriage to a man three times my age. A despot who ruled a nearby moon. My destiny was to fight or to be a commodity in an alliance to a man I disliked.” She looked up at Blaine, and saw the sympathy in his eyes. “I defied my father, and in return, he sold me to the Kor Magna Arena. Sometimes things look bad, impossible even, but you have to believe things will get better and keep moving toward it.”

  Blaine stared at her for a long moment, then he reached out, his callused fingers brushing over her jaw. “Your strength and courage are astonishing.”

  For the first time in years, Saff fought back a blush. Suddenly, a wind whipped up from nowhere, tossing her braids around and pricking at her eyes.

  “Sandstorm coming in,” Galen yelled. “We need to get out of here and back to Kor Magna. Like it or not, we have a fight tonight.”

  Blaine cursed and Saff squeezed his fingers. “We won’t give up on them.”

  A brusque nod. “Right now, I want to fight in the arena.” His hand flexed. “I need to fight.”

  She watched him turn back to his tarnid, a chill running down her spine. She felt the ugly emotion pulsing off him. He wanted to be in the arena to take out his frustration—to hurt and be hurt. And despite what he’d told her, she didn’t believe he’d be careful out there.

  Saff gripped the reins of her own beast. Fine. If Blaine wouldn’t protect himself, she’d do it for him.

  ***

  Blaine hammered his fist into the gel bag dangling from the ceiling of the gym. He kept thinking of Dayna, Mia, and Winter. They had to be terrified. He was well aware he was a big guy, but the women were all so delicate compared to the alien species here.

  He kept punching his fists into the gel bag, harder and harder, like he could purge the darkness roaring inside him…

  Suddenly, the bag burst, splattering blue gel on the floor.

  He heaved in some harsh breaths. That was the third one he’d destroyed since they’d returned from the desert.

  He looked up, catching his reflection in the mirror on the gym wall. For a second, he barely recognized himself. His face was twisted with anger, and his bare chest was covered in scars and gleaming with sweat. His black hair was far longer than he’d ever worn it, and he snarled. Blaine was out of control, a shadow of the man he’d once been.

  And now he realized he might never be that man again.

  His hands curled into fists, his chin hitting his chest.

  Movement in the mirror caught his attention, and he lifted his head. Saff stood just behind him.

  Strong, tall Saff, who ignited something in his blood. Something else he couldn’t control.

  “You have word on the women?” he asked.

  “Nothing yet.” She walked up to him, reaching out to touch his back.

  “Then why are you here?” he snapped. The nightmares inside him morphed into a horrid ball of hurt and anger, and it wanted to lash out.

  She dropped her hand, her face a blank mask. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  He spun to face her. “You want to help me? Heal me? Fix me?”

  Something ignited in her own gaze. “No. I
just want you to know that you aren’t alone.”

  He advanced on her. “I feel alone. I’m the only human man on Carthago, hell, in this part of the galaxy. I feel alone when the urge for the drugs is riding me so hard I want to puke.”

  Saff backed up a few steps. “Blaine—”

  He kept advancing. “I feel alone when I’m a lather of sweat in my bed at night and can’t sleep. I feel alone when I can’t damn well smell a damn thing. Or when thoughts of those women, who I should’ve kept safe, crawl through my head.”

  Saff spread her feet wide. “You don’t have to go through it all by yourself.”

  He stepped forward until his chest was pressed against hers. “I’m alone when I remember the face of every person that I had to kill in the fight rings.”

  “You aren’t a bad man, Blaine. You just had bad things forced on you.” She lifted her chin. “You think you’re the first person who’s been forced to kill people?”

  A small voice in Blaine’s head reminded him that she’d been forced to fight, too. And she’d been just a child. Saff had her own nightmares.

  Right now, his own demons were riding him hard, and they needed a release.

  He moved fast, sliding his hands under Saff’s arms, and lifting her off her feet. She gasped, and he took several strides until her back hit the stone wall.

  He expected her to hit him, but she just watched him with a raised brow. “So what now, Earth man? You going to take a hit? Fight with me?”

  “No,” he growled. Then he slammed his mouth to hers.

  Saff went still for half a second, then her arms wrapped around him and she kissed him back.

  The kiss was neither sweet nor gentle. It was exactly what he wanted: hard, fast, with an edge. Fuck, she tasted like caramel, and as her hands dug into his shoulders for leverage, her tongue dueled with his.

  She nipped his bottom lip. Hard enough to draw blood. He growled.

  “What do you want, Blaine?” she purred.

  “Not to be alone.”

  She moved her mouth across his jaw. “You’re not. I’m right here. Tell me what you want.”

  Her voice was like sin, with just enough challenge in it to keep his blood running hot. “Oblivion.”