by Anna Hackett
Nero could still taste her on his lips. Kissing Winter had been…much more pleasurable than it should have been. He hunched his shoulders. It was a mistake. Letting someone in meant lowering your guard, losing control. Nero knew better than that.
Living at the House of Galen, training and fighting with his fellow gladiators, had taught him control. On Symeria, barbarian children were taught to embrace their rage, and use their emotions to make them wilder and stronger. But Galen and the others had taught Nero that wilder and stronger weren’t always the smartest options in a fight.
None of this mattered right now. Winter didn’t want or appreciate his protection. The woman was determined to do everything herself.
After a few moments, the crowds dissipated, and the shops and houses gave way to larger, industrial-type buildings.
“There it is,” Galen said.
Nero forced his thoughts onto the mission. He stared up at the factory buildings towering over them. Huge tanks of all different sizes, some looming high, some short and squat, were also scattered around them. Nearby, large turbines spun, no doubt generating some sort of power for the factory. There were moving parts and clouds of steam hissed and rattled. The noise reverberated in his ears. He hated it. The harsh, metallic smells, the loud noises, it all washed through Nero, dulling his senses.
Nearby, Blue shifted restlessly, his face tight. Nero glanced at Winter and wondered how she felt.
As they neared the entrance, a shadow detached itself from between two tanks. Nero shoved Winter behind him. Blue bent his legs, falling into an attack stance. Thorin, Raiden, and Galen drew their weapons. Nero gripped his sword.
But the man who stepped into the light wasn’t an enemy but an ally.
“Galen,” the man said, his cool voice deep and emotionless.
“Magnus.”
As the two imperators greeted each other, clasping forearms, Nero took stock of Magnus Rone, Imperator of the House of Rone.
They were the House of Galen’s closest allies. The two houses had met numerous times in the arena, and were closely matched. Rone hired good gladiators and trained them well. They were always a challenge on the sand.
Magnus had short, dark hair and a powerful build. He was a skilled fighter, but he was banned from the arena because he was a cyborg. His left arm was made entirely of silver metal, and one of his eyes glowed a neon blue. Nero had to admit he found the man disconcerting, because he sensed very little from him. He made no sound, gave off very little scent, and left no trail. He was formidable prey.
“What are you doing here?” Galen asked.
The cyborg’s blue eye glowed. “Zhim’s informant was a House of Rone worker. She saw both your women here over a week ago. Bound and gagged.”
“What took her so long to report it?” Raiden asked.
“She was unaware the women had been claimed by the House of Galen. Workers are used to keeping their mouths shut, and keeping out of business that does not involve them. It wasn’t until Zhim started asking questions that my worker came forward and shared what she’d seen. She’s trustworthy.” The man looked at them all. “I’d like to offer my help. I have the schematics of the factory.”
“Where?” Thorin asked.
Magnus tapped the side of his head. Nero wondered what other enhancements the man had, ones they couldn’t see.
The imperator waved them toward a doorway. Winter stepped gingerly inside behind Galen. As Nero entered, a wash of steam hit his face. The air inside was moist and humid.
“There are very few workers in the factory,” Magnus said. “Most of the systems are automated.”
Tanks, pieces of equipment and conveyor belts filled the large factory. Nearby, a large piece of equipment thumped hard, along with another. Something mechanical whined and more steam rose up around them.
Nero stepped closer to Winter, watching as she moved carefully over the metal-grate floor. Her steps were slow and deliberate, and he guessed she couldn’t see very well inside.
A second later, she tripped over something, and he grabbed her to keep her from landing on her face.
He righted her. “Hold my arm.” He held it out to her.
“Something in here is messing with my vision device. Everything’s a little muddled.” She eyed his arm and hesitated.
“Don’t be stubborn.”
“That’s rich coming from you, but fine,” she snapped, reaching out to take his arm.
Nero liked the feel of her small hand on his arm. They followed Magnus and Galen up a set of steps, and soon, they were heading down a long walkway. He saw the way she kept glancing at Blue. The alien man looked very uncomfortable being in such a noisy, smelly place but was holding it together.
From the walkway, they had a perfect view across the factory floor—tanks, conveyor belts, and moving equipment.
“Here.” Magnus pushed open a door and led them into a corridor off the main factory floor. The walls were all unpainted stone. “My sensors detect the faint record of two females being escorted through here.”
Galen swung around. “Nero.”
With a nod, he released Winter’s arm and stepped into the corridor. He pulled in a deep breath and studied the ground. He walked around the tight space. There was a layer of dust on the floor, but it had been disturbed, and there were many footprints. All far too large to be a woman from Earth.
Finally, he spotted a smaller footprint. He crouched down. It was only a partial print, but it looked like it was made by a female with bare feet. He touched the center of the print. He couldn’t detect any scent of Mia or Dayna.
“There is a female footprint here.” Studying the ground, he let his instincts take over. He moved down the corridor, following the trail. They moved through several turns and corridors. He spotted a small handprint on the wall. More small footprints. A short strand of blonde hair.
Then he reached a junction covered in footprints and the drag marks of cargo being moved through.
He looked up at his imperator and shook his head. “I’ve lost the trail. There are too many other prints, and no scent.”
“Blue.” Winter stepped forward and held out a hand to the alien. The blue-skinned man approached.
He stopped beside Nero and sniffed.
His body stiffened. He dropped down, almost pressing his face to the dirty floor. Then he stood, moving toward the wall, and running his hands over it.
He moved a few more steps and dragged in some deep breaths. Then, without warning, he turned and took off down a corridor at a sprint.
“Blue!” Winter yelled.
The curses of the others echoed off the walls.
“Don’t lose him!” Galen ordered.
“Stay with Winter,” Nero called to his imperator. Then he exploded into a run.
A body moved up beside him. Magnus. Together, they sprinted after Blue.
They couldn’t let him get away.
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 t
ransport.”
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.
