by Jodie Becker
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Cobblestone Press
www.cobblestone-press.com
Copyright ©2006 by Jodie Becker
First published in 2006
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Bloodlust
Copyright© 2006 Jodie Becker
ISBN: 1-60088-038-X
Cover Artist: Dan Skinner
Editor: Melissa Darnell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Cobblestone Press, LLC
www.cobblestone-press.com
Dedication
To my loving husband who supports me in everything I do, and Shelli Stevens for her encouragement to join the Cobblestone family. To all my Diva gals out there who are my rock in this publishing world. I'd also like to thank my editor, Melissa, for all her hard work she did and the enthusiasm she felt toward the story that ensured we'd make this puppy shine.
Chapter 1
Kira knew the roar of bloodlust. The amphitheatre beyond rose an octave as the iron gate before her opened. Standing in the dark, dank hall of the dome, she perused the line of weapons hanging on the wall.
"You won't need one tonight,” Darthor rumbled, his voice deep and cavernous.
Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder at the tall dark-skinned humanoid hybrid. His bald head gleamed, the firelight of the torches outside reflecting against it. “Why the hell not?"
His thick lips curled back to reveal jagged teeth. “Because you're taking on a newbie tonight."
Facing him, she crossed her arms over her chain link shirt. “Me?” Didn't they understand she was a Grade One level gladiator? She didn't take on newcomers.
Darthor crossed his arms over his expansive chest in mimic. “You."
Glaring at the obstinate man for a moment, Kira peered at the opening. The crowd beckoned her. “Fine."
Striding out of the hall, the light of the stage momentarily blinded her as she held her hand out against it. The mason walls that rose high above the arena were well aged and stained with algae, dirt and blood. An arena for sport. Blood sport.
The masses cheered at her arrival, and she raised her arms, turning a full circle to soak up the celebrity. Opposite her, the wrought iron gates opened, and her opponent stumbled out, falling to his hands and knees. Hair, jet black and sparsely streaked with amber, fell over his tanned shoulders. As he stood, Kira noted that his skin had a golden hue to it, his muscles rippling as he brushed the sand from his body. Shoulder length locks that fell over his face fluttered with every breath he took. His legs trembled under the weight of his body, sweat glistening on him. The fight hadn't even started, and he was already exhausted.
Dressed in a primitive loincloth, his impressive physique was exposed to all, and Kira couldn't help the hot lust that sent a heat wave through her body and pinged at the very central part of her. Damn it, she needed to focus on the battle ahead and not what he'd look like naked. Her lips thinned into a grim line as she analytically sized up her adversary.
He stood a good foot and a half taller than her five eight frame. Broad shoulders and a long arm reach wasn't something she was unfamiliar with, and she knew how to get around it. Although most of her male challengers were rather bulky and slow, relying on their strength. She didn't know which he was. Raw power, agility, or both.
The combatant tipped his head back to stare up at the semi-crazed crowd. He turned in a slow circle as though confused by his surroundings. Kira frowned. Most combatants would focus on their opponent, but he was more intent on figuring out where he was. What was he, high?
Finally the Prime of Qantic Station stood on his podium on the north end of the stadium. The white gleam of his skin stood out in stark contrast against the mauve curtains that surrounded him. His large black eyes scanned the area in a lazy perusal. The crowd roared again has the Prime raised his hands, signaling for the game to begin. The loud dong of the fight gong sounded, rumbling over the frenzied populace.
With a loud war whoop for which she was famous, Kira launched her attack. The man turned toward her, and his eyes widened and virtually glowed under the light. Eating the distance between them, she came in with a high kick, which he immediately blocked with crossed arms. Undeterred, she landed and fell into a swipe, taking his feet out from under him.
He landed with a grunt, sand scattering out beneath him. Standing, she twisted around and dropped her knee, aiming for the tender part of his ribs, but he proved to be fast, rolling away from her and onto his feet.
Pushing off her knee, Kira back flipped away from him and then landed, her fists at the ready. It was then that she saw his eyes were gold. No pupils, just irises of gold. Momentarily captivated by the color, she failed to register his knee coming forward until it hit her in the stomach. Gasping as pain slammed through her abdomen, she stumbled back, her arm striking downward in an automatic move of defense.
God damn it! Focus! Biting back against the pain as she straightened, she forced an easy smile, noting with satisfaction the way his eyes narrowed. “Is that all you got, Golden Boy?"
He tilted his head to the side as though he didn't understand her. Yeah, right. Everyone that participated in space travel was inserted with a translation chip. He understood, the cocky bastard. Faking a left move, she watched him tense and couldn't hold back the pleasure that rolled through her. Sidestepping around him, she searched for an opening, a moment where his concentration would slip.
Pausing, she planted her foot firmly into the sand, twisting her ankle slightly. Opening one fist, she palmed him to approach with a wink. “Come on then,” she whispered. “Come get me."
A frown furrowed his brow, and he took a step forward. Kira kicked up her leg, a spray of sand flying high and hitting him in the face, his cry of surprise muffled by the crowd. Coming in, she kneed him in the side then turned for a roundhouse kick, hitting him in the side of the head with a crack.
He stumbled sideways, and Kira launched into the air, her fist raised high to deliver the killing blow. Suddenly, in a move that surprised her, he too launched into the air. They met in a tangle of limbs and landed with a loud thud, Golden Boy taking most of the impact.
Straddling him, Kira threw a king hit, only to have him intercept it, bumping her off balance with his obstruction. His other fist came out, aiming for her temple. Blocking it with her forearm did her little good as agony flared along the bone and into her shoulder, knocking her off him.
Dizzied, she rolled further away, but was unable to evade him as he grasped her shirt and pulled her off the ground until she was eye to eye with him.
Molten gold glared at her. “Nik oiu sal alul?"
Kira gritted her teeth, kicking out and hitting his shin, his grimace giving her a sense of renewed purpose. He might be strong and agile, but he was damn stupid. She could beat stupid. Gripping his thumb on one shoulder, she twisted and he released her, only to twist her around and force her back against his chest.
"Pika alau sol tila. Pika,” he growled in her ear, his hot breath caressing
her skin.
Kira didn't give two shits what he said and struggled for release, her legs kicking out uselessly. His forearm tightened around her shoulder and neck, stilling any upper body strength she could've used.
In a last ditch effort, she bit down onto his arm. Hard. Skin broke, and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Suddenly, a stream of images flooded her mind like a replay of life just before death. Faces she never knew, houses, landscapes, and animals. Vaguely, she noticed he released her, and she stumbled forward, falling to her knees. Images bombarded her from all sides as she screamed out at the pain that seared across her brain.
Jerking, she could do little to protect herself as Golden Boy eased her onto her back. He could end her life now. Golden eyes swam with misery, concern and disbelief, and she could only moan as blood pooled from her mouth. His or hers, she wasn't sure.
"By the Gods. What have you done?” he mumbled in perfect English.
Then oblivion ascended on her.
Chapter 2
Kira woke with a blazing headache. Her mouth felt as though it was filled with cotton and a pitmar snake resided in the back of her throat. Keeping her eyes firmly shut, she shifted against the smooth counterpane and repressed a groan as nausea roiled through her stomach and forced bile to arise.
"Are you awake?"
The soft melodic voice of Mirn broke through the fuzziness that clouded her brain, and Kira cracked one eyelid open. The burgundy curtains that lined her bed waved in a gentle breeze coming from the vent on the wall. Turning her head, she smiled at the catlike appearance of Mirn. Soft white fur spread over rounded features, the dark slits of her sapphire eyes sharpened with concern.
"Are you all right?” she asked.
Kira rubbed the heel of her palm against her eye and repressed a groan as her arm spasmed from the movement.
"How long have I been out?” Kira rasped.
Mirn stroked her whiskers and glanced behind her. “Two days."
Kira jerked up and immediately regretted the action as the world spun and her head felt as though it imploded, her eyes searing. Dropping back on the bed, she drew a red pillow over her face, biting back at the gagging that threatened to overwhelm her. Shit, what did he do to her?
Pulling the cushion from her face, she squinted at Mirn. “Where is he?"
"In the lower dorms,” she replied, not pretending to misunderstand.
Kira stared at the curtains overhead. The lower dorms were no better than a prison. But then again, all gladiators were prisoners. Due to her success, Kira had moved up in the dorms and now resided in a high-stake one dorm, a large, self-contained unit. Walls of stark white formed into a domed roof with an elegant chandelier hanging from the center.
The room itself only contained a queen-sized bed, an elegant sitting area of velvet ottomans and long seats, and a balcony overseeing the buildings on the space station. But what she loved most about what her high status afforded her was the private spa.
Although she lived a life of luxury, she wasn't free to come and go as she pleased. She was no better than those living in the lower dorms, but she did have it easier here.
"I can't see how he managed to overpower you,” Mirn commented, her thin lips falling in displeasure. “We must work more on your training. I can't have you falling under a newcomer."
Shame burned in Kira's gut, and she inclined her head at the mild scolding. As a trainer, Mirn taught Kira all she knew of Mer-style fighting. An art that required much skill and agility that she'd yet to fully master. Mirn was once a gladiator herself, but after surviving her time in the fighting arena, she'd been upgraded to training and given an apprentice. Of course, Kira considered herself lucky to have the five and a half foot Mercat as her mentor.
Behind the feline, the arched windows spread before her, their wooden lattices open to reveal the orange and mauve hues of dusk. The three moons were low, shining their red and purple light across the domed buildings spattering the simulated landscape.
"What did he do to me?” Kira pondered after a moment of silence.
Mira eased forward and brushed Kira's russet curls from her face, her claw scrapping tenderly across her skin. “I don't know, but Quizar wasn't happy about it."
Kira let out a snort. “Happy about what? That I didn't die this time?"
"No, that Gladiator V1A42 didn't die."
"I guess everyone was expecting him to when putting him up against a Grade One. I must have underestimated him.” Shame and humiliation coiled in her gut and wrapped around her like a soiled garment. She'd have to train harder and work on her strategy. A rematch was bound to happen, and next time she'd be ready.
"Would you like a bath?"
The idea of relaxing in a nice scented spa eased her discomfort as she forced herself to sit up. Pulling the black velvet coverlet aside, Kira dropped her feet onto the beige marble tiles. The cold seeped into the soles of her feet, a welcome comfort against the strange images that shimmered through her mind.
"Are you all right, mistress?” Mirn asked.
Kira glanced at her, a wry twist to her lips. “Yeah.” Rolling her shoulder, she grimaced at the stiffness there.
Standing, Kira held out her arms and shrugged into the long emerald green robe that Mirn held out behind her. The soft fabric fell sensuously against her skin, shimmering as she moved. Crossing the room toward the white-latticed double-door, she pushed them open to step into an expansive circular room lined with potted native flora.
Green marble flooring glimmered with the moisture that hung thick in the air. Rivulets of water beaded on the cream walls. Around the spa, four jade pillars rose high toward the domed ceiling.
Breathing in the thick scent of mint and apples within the room, she shrugged out of her robe and descended the steps into the bath. Sighing as the warm water caressed her skin, she swam the twelve-foot wide tub to the other side, stopping only briefly to duck into the waist-deep depths. Coming up for air, she brushed her hair from her face.
"Is there anything you need of me?” Mirn asked.
Glancing over her shoulder, Kira shook her head. “I should be fine."
With a nod, the feline left the room, shutting the doors behind her. Dipping back again, Kira allowed the hot water to soak into her aching muscles. Peering up at the motif painted on the ceiling of gladiators fighting to their death, she pondered her last battle.
The fight itself wasn't the most strenuous she'd been in, but for some reason, her body had cramped up as though she'd fought a Camia-beast. Shit, the newcomer hadn't even managed any solid blows. So why was she feeling as though he had?
Dropping her feet, she touched the tile surface beneath and walked toward the underwater seat at the edge of the pool. Sitting, the water brushed over her nipples and over her breasts as she leaned back, spreading her arms upon the cold ledge. Sighing, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep, slow breath.
Water splashed, and Kira's eyes jerked open. At the other end of the spa, Golden Boy stood, waist deep in water. Momentarily stunned by his appearance, her gaze ran over his toned body. Finely muscled arms and pectorals sent a wave of desire sluicing through her body and throbbing against the very center of her. Gold glimmered on his chest, and she noticed for the first time that his nipples were pierced. How had that escaped her attention?
Licking her now dry lips, she re-gathered her wits and glared at him. “What the hell are you doing here?"
He tilted he head to the side. God, he wasn't going to play dumb again, was he?
"I am here to see you,” he whispered. His voice, like the sweetest of fruits, filled her senses.
She nodded with a sarcastic tilt to her head. “Oh, right. Look, I don't know how you got in here, but you can leave the same way."
He ignored her as his hands fingered the water, brushing the ripples softly in an almost reverent manner. Kira imagined those hands touching her the same way, and she bit back the moan of longing that bubbled to her lips. Why wasn't she calling for
the guards? Kira wanted to laugh at herself. Who was she kidding? A gorgeous alien was in her tub; she'd be crazy to call them in here.
Golden Boy dipped into the water, and Kira gasped. Sitting up, she scanned the water for his form. Suddenly he broke the surface only three feet from her, and a cry of surprise wrenched from her lips. Water ran in rivulets off his body, caressing his skin. The image of licking the droplets off him slammed into her, and she groaned. Her pussy throbbed at the thought.
"I will not leave until I've done what I came here to do,” he said, his golden eyes swimming with promise.
Not liking the way she had to look up at him, she stood, uncaring that she allowed him an unfettered view of her breasts. Dropping her hands onto her hips, she lifted her chin in a perfect angle of arrogance. She'd be damned if she'd let a newcomer cow her. “I'm a Grade One gladiator, Golden Boy. If you want a rematch, then by all means."
"Lukiamo."
"Look I am what?"
One side of his mouth quirked in a grin. “It is my name. I do not wish to fight you."
"Ri-ight. Well, you're in the wrong place. We fight, we live, we die, it's the way it is around here."
The glimmer of amusement faded in his eyes. “I didn't choose to be here."
Kira laughed. “None of us do, pal. But we have to fight to survive, don't we?"
He frowned. “You're a prisoner?"
Images of the past that she'd long held at bay ran through her mind. The cruise ship she was on was attacked by race-traders. More specifically, slave-traders. She'd lost her life then and was made to embrace what she'd become. A killer.
Blinking, she forced her mind off her morose beginnings to find him regarding her gravely. His arm rose up, and she stiffened as he shifted a lock of hair from her face. His touch sent a spark of electricity through her, and she gasped at it.
Shamed by her weakness, she knocked his hand aside. “Get out,” she growled.
He stepped closer, his skin brushing against her nipples, making them form into pebbles. Without room to move back or to the side, Kira fell into her seat, water splashing about her. Before she had time to draw in a breath, he knelt before her, his hands encompassing her waist and pulling her to the edge of the seat. The intensity of his features spiked her with caution, causing her heart to patter wildly.
