by Anna Hackett
Finally, he saw a flash of movement below. He spotted Winter in the grip of some sort of robot.
The machine was pulling her behind it, despite her wild struggles.
No, you don’t. Nero leaped off the tank, pulling his sword from its sheath on his back. He landed not far from the robot, with a bend of his knees.
Winter’s head jerked up. “Nero!”
The robot moved faster, jerking her behind a tank.
Nero charged after them, the need to attack rushing through him. He raised his sword.
Laser fire lit up the darkness. With a curse, he dived out of the way. The robot was equipped with laser weapons.
“No!” Winter shouted.
The laser burned into the tank behind Nero and hot liquid rushed out. He leaped to his feet and dodged out of the way.
From behind the next tank, he heard the sound of a struggle. He hurried to catch them. He couldn’t let that damn machine take her.
Then he heard an electronic whine followed by several clunks. Metal on metal. What the hell was it doing to her?
He heard the others arrive, Galen shouting orders. Nero sprinted around the tanks, sword raised.
That’s when he saw Winter. She was walking toward him through the steam. His eyes widened. She was limping and dragging the remnants of the robot behind her.
She had a scrape down the side of her face, and held the knife he’d given her in her other hand. She stopped by Nero and dropped the mangled robot on the ground.
“Winter.” He reached out to touch her pale face.
“It shot at you. It tried to abduct me…again.” She kicked the robot. “I got mad.” She shot Nero a smile. “Told you I was good with a knife.”
***
Winter was well aware all the gladiators were staring at her.
“Maybe Rory can get something off that.” She nodded at the remains of the robot, trying to keep her voice level, and not show that she was more than a teensy bit rattled.
She felt a little dizzy, and the anger that had fueled her when she’d attacked the robot was waning.
It had ripped her shirt, scratched her, and then shot at Nero. She’d suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of fury.
“Winter.” Nero’s voice was a deep rumble.
Her pain and dizziness got worse, but she swallowed a few times. She didn’t want him to see her as weak. Again.
But when she took a step, her legs collapsed from under her. Nero caught her in brawny arms.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“You’re hurt.” He pulled her tight against his chest.
“No.” God, he was so hard and strong. And smelled so good. She pressed her cheek to his chest.
Suddenly, Blue appeared beside them. He sniffed. “Blood.”
Nero tensed.
Winter turned her head. “I’m okay—”
Nero started yanking at her torn shirt.
“Hey—” she protested.
He lifted the fabric, and Winter stared at the ragged scratches on her belly. She wrinkled her nose. Damn robot. “See? Not so bad.”
“We need to get her to Medical.” He spun, his gaze going to Galen. “She needs the healers.”
Winter opened her mouth to once again reassure them, but she saw Galen nod. “I want to get the drak out of here.” The imperator looked at Thorin. “Bring the robot.”
Deciding that arguing with alpha male gladiators wouldn’t get her very far, Winter simply leaned into Nero. Truth be told, she was too tired and achy to argue with them right now, anyway.
She felt the tension pumping off Nero. He was no doubt saving up for a big lecture about how she shouldn’t have come on this mission. She looked over his shoulder and saw Blue striding behind them. His big body moved with contained power, and he was watchful, but appeared to be handling everything okay.
When they stepped out into the hot Carthago sunlight, Winter released a breath. Nero was moving fast, his long strides eating up the distance back to the arena.
Before she knew it, they were back in the arena tunnels, and then passing through the doors of the House of Galen.
Nero slammed his way into Medical. He set her on a bed, as one of the healers, Tamma, appeared to check on her.
“Gladiator, you may leave,” Tamma said in a calm voice.
“No.” Nero crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet, looking like a boulder that would not be budged.
The Hermia gave a quiet sigh, and then moved back to assess Winter’s wounds. When Tamma pushed up Winter’s shirt, and then started cutting it off, she tried not to be embarrassed. She was well aware she wasn’t Nero’s type—big, strong, and athletic—so it didn’t matter if he saw her half naked.
“The scratches are minor.” The healer grabbed some med gel and started spreading it over her stomach.
“I tried to tell everyone that.”
“I find gladiators do not always listen to medical advice.”
Winter snorted and saw Nero’s brows draw together. When the healer finished and stepped away, Winter sat up, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed.
Nero appeared, handing her a sheet. She pulled it around her shoulders. “Thank you.” It would have to do until she got back to her room.
Before her feet hit the floor, Nero lifted her into his arms.
“I’m fine, Nero. I can walk.”
“Don’t care.” He strode out of Medical.
Boy, he was wound up. Winter decided to stay silent, as he strode through the corridors. Soon, he was carrying her into a room that wasn’t hers and setting her on a huge bed.
“Stay there,” he ordered, before he stomped out.
She stared at the empty doorway, shaking her head. She looked around his room with interest. A large fur rug covered the bed and she stroked it while she took in the leather couch, the dark curtains framing the large window and the crossed swords on the wall. She turned her head and saw a collection of knives hanging above the bed. She smiled. Barbarian chic.
She’d just settled back against the pillows when Nero returned, holding a glass of liquid and some silky fabric in his hand.
“My robe.” She grabbed the silky robe that Regan had given her.
Nero turned and gave her his broad back. Quickly, she discarded her bloody clothes and the sheet, pulling the robe around her body.
“I’m decent.”
He turned and handed her the glass. Her eyebrows rose. “What’s this?”
“It is called ch’talla. It is made from a vine from my home world. It promotes healing.”
She felt something soften inside her. “Nero, I’m okay.”
He nodded at her and started pacing across the room.
God, save her from overprotective males. She sipped the ch’talla and her eyes widened. It was sweet and tart. “This tastes amazing.”
“My mother used to make it for me, when I was injured in training. Of course, it hadn’t been brewed first like this version.”
The flat tone of his voice made her heart ache. It was easy to forget big, hard-headed Nero had once been a young man, torn from everything he knew.
“What’s it taste like if it isn’t brewed?” she asked.
“Bitter. You do not give warriors in training something that tastes sweet.”
She closed her eyes for a second. So barbarians treated their kids with little care. He kept pacing, and she wondered idly if he would wear a groove in the floor if he continued. “Nero, come and sit down.”
“You could have been killed or taken.” He spun, his face hard. “When I realized we were attacked as a distraction…” He pressed his hands to the back of his neck. “When I saw you were gone.”
She climbed off the bed and went to him. “I’m okay.” She squeezed his hand. “You were coming after me…I was alone in the dark for a long time knowing that no one was coming. This time, I knew.”
A squeaking sound broke through the room, followed by the tap of something on glass. She spun toward the
doors leading onto his balcony.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” His voice sounded odd.
She eyed him. He had a strange look on his face. Winter headed for the balcony.
“Winter, you should be resting.”
She slid open the door. Three small, furry faces looked up at her.
Her mouth dropped open. She watched the sleek, cat-like creatures tumble into the room. One tried to climb up Nero’s leg while the others ran in circles around his feet.
Winter watched him snatch one animal up, his big hand smoothing over its dark fur. She now saw the little things had very sharp claws and huge fangs. Whatever they were, they were hunters.
“Friends of yours?” she asked.
He looked really uncomfortable. “Several animals roam the arena at night. They eat the rodents. One of the thera hunting cats had a litter.”
“And they followed you home?” She was trying to hold back a laugh. If the familiar way he petted the animals was anything to go by, this was a regular thing.
He shrugged one shoulder. “The kits climbed up to my balcony.”
Winter swiveled and looked on the balcony. There was a bowl of water and a small plate of half-eaten food sitting beside a fur blanket. She stared. This was a side of Nero she’d never seen, never even guessed at.
She turned to look at him. “You hiding some sweet under that barbarian gruffness?”
He scowled and set the thera kit down. He chased them out onto the balcony and slammed the door closed. He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I am not sweet.”
She moved up to him until their bodies brushed. “Nero—”
Suddenly, his bedroom door flew open. Harper, Regan, Rory, and Madeline rushed in.
“God, what happened?” Rory demanded.
“Are you all right?” Harper asked quietly. “Raiden said you were hurt.”
As the women surrounded Winter, she absorbed the cloud of caring and love surrounding her. Just weeks ago, she hadn’t known any of these women, but what they’d all gone through had bonded them together forever.
Whatever happened, she had her friends.
As Regan leaned over to give her a careful hug, Winter looked up and saw Nero slip out of the room. Now she just had to work out where one big, bad barbarian gladiator fitted into her life.
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.
