Page 88 of Baited

“But Sartak did produce some information,” Izzy interjects. “Something you didn’t want Blayn or the other Gryn to know.”

I adore how bold she is, how she stands straight facing the procurator, who is looking wildly between what Klynn is doing to his bots and us.

“Information? What information could possibly be of use to a gladiator?” he splutters.

“Oh.” She turns to face me and the others. “I don’t think he wants to know what you found out. I guess the Tatatunga council might want to know, or the resistance…or both perhaps.”

Her words finally capture the procurator’s attention.

“The council? The resistance? What do you mean?” he responds.

“He doesn’t want to know.” Izzy has her back to him now, linking arms with me and smiling (which I do not like) at the others. “No point wasting our time. Let’s go, boys,” she adds.

The last bot slumps to the floor in pieces with a tinkling sound. Klynn pants twice and then holsters his daggers on his belt with a smug smile.

He doesn’t take his eyes from the procurator.

The temperature in the room seems to drop, and the procurator shakes as he realizes his situation.

No one without a weapon faces Klynn. He’s never allowed in any space where he can’t be contained, including the parade. We’re all dangerous, but he is…something else. Almost as much of a machine as the ones he’s destroyed.

“What do you want?” The procurator’s voice is unusually high-pitched with panic.

“I want you to relinquish any claim you have over me,” I growl. “And the others.”

His eyes narrow. “No.”

“Well, then I guess we’ll have to tell the council…” Izzy gazes away from the procurator, inspecting the wall on which he has hung various vid-images.

“And the resistance,” Maxym adds, checking on his claws.

“The resistance would really want to know this information,” Rych chimes in.

“What information?” the procurator demands, his voice reaching an ever higher pitch.

“The information regarding how the dome procured its star gladiators…as younglings…forced to fight before they were ready. Forced to kill before they even knew what life was. Forced apart from a family who wanted them more than anything,” Izzy growls.

She has our bond gripped hard by her mind, pushing into the corners I didn’t want her to see, but she sees anyway, and she loves me all the more for it.

“I don’t know what you mean,” the procurator says, but he’s edging away behind his desk.

It seems he forgets exactly what he has in his dome. He doesn’t get far before I have him by the neck, his legs dangling and his pale skin slowly turning darker as I grip him tighter.

His species might also have gills to breathe, but I’m well aware of the other organ they keep in their neck. And he doesn’t like having his genitals squeezed in the slightest.

“I think you do.” I lift him higher, his legs kicking weakly. “And you’re going to want to let us go or face the consequences.”

IZZY

Aside from discovering, via the thoughtbond, exactly what organs the procurator’s species keeps in their neck, which is an image I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unsee, the last thing I want is for Blayn to cause some permanent damage to the horrible creature.

Even if he deserves it, given how fucking smug he was when he sent Blayn away. If he’s going to die, then it won’t be by Blayn’s hand.

I push everything I have into the thoughtbond, wanting my sweet gladiator to remember he’s better than the procurator and the dome.

But he’s managing to block me. And regardless of the procurator’s ability to breathe without using his neck, the chances are Blayn will permanently injure him if he doesn’t let go.

I swallow my anger, tamping it down hard inside myself. It’s as pointless as trying to find a way back to Earth, and Blayn doesn’t need it. I don’t need it.

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