Page 3 of Bound

And as much as my current situation as a swordless gladiator is not to my liking, I don’t want to end up back at the amphitheater as fodder for the pre-games. A violent act like this won’t see me back in the dome. It’ll see me dead.

“You saw what happened. He came for me,” I say to the barkeeper.

He shakes his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the remaining, undamaged Habosu.

So this is how it goes. Killing in the dome is lauded. Outside of the dome it becomes a way of control, for the dead and for the living. I always knew it, only I had thought I’d end my days as a gladiator. The dome doesn’t have a habit of giving up its fighters.

Not for the first time, I curse Blayn under my breath. He might have wanted freedom, but I didn’t know what I wanted.

“You will pay,” the Habosu who tried to shoot me snarls. “You’ll face the same justice you meted out in the dome,Gryn.”

“I think you’ll find none of you will be reporting anything,” a slightly nasal voice says from the doorway.

I look over to see a tall, although not as tall as me, male stood in the doorway. His scales are predominantly purple, but there are flashes of other colors as he surveys the room. He looks like an Oykig, only more colorful and without the tail, and there’s something about him which puts my feathers on end. A name springs into my head.Drahon. Only I’m not sure what it means.

“And what are you going to do about it?” my would be assailant growls. “Our friend is badly hurt because of him.”

“I’m sure ten thousand credits will be enough to aid in his pain and your own,” the creature says. “And another ten thousand for your silence.”

“Each?” the Habosu with the broken nose asks.

The purple male shrugs. “Each,” he says without batting an eyelid…if he has eyelids. It’s hard to tell.

He beckons to me. I feel my lips lifting in a snarl, but that only seems to make him smile. “I have a proposal for you, gladiator.” He flicks the credit chips on the bar, causing a scramble of the occupants, who decided the credits are worth ignoring their unconscious friend.

“I didn’t ask you to intervene, and I don’t have the credits to pay you back.” I look at the scrum behind me. “This was your choice.”

“I don’t want the money back,” he says, going to put an arm around me, but I pull away. He doesn’t seem bothered by my refusal. “I want to offer you a job.”

CHRISSIE

I swear as the glass tumbles into the stone basin in my quarters and smashes to pieces. It means I have to take another one from the kitchen.

The last thing I want is to go downstairs. I am exhausted, and I don’t want to encounter my boss. Fenek’s absolutely adamant the assassin came for him with the intention of kidnapping me. Something I find highly improbable…the kidnapping, not the assassination.

I try to take the glass out of the basin carefully but hiss as my hand is nicked by a sharp shard. My blood oozes out, deep scarlet, making my head spin as I reach for a towel and wrap up the wound. I’m so sick of being sick. I force myself to stay upright and clear up the remainder of the glass, which I deposit in the refuse incinerator.

As I do, I catch sight of myself. My skin is pale in the artificial light, and my hair looks like straw. But humans are virtually unknown in this quarter of the galaxy, and even though I think I look terrible, no one else does. The one saving grace.

I’m a sick thirty-year-old human. I might have an ability to entertain, but I’m not exactly a prize, even if Fenek touts mearound like one. My alien boss excels at marketing himself, and he’s done very well at it.

I decide to put my big girl knickers on and do what I need to do. Taking my stick, I make my way slowly down the stairs, listening for Fenek’s whiny voice. All I hear is the hum of the internal generators and the sounds of the cleaning bots going about their business. Outside it’s bright and sunny. I consider whether I should go out, get some sun on my face, but then I remember how my skin reacted last time. Big purple blotches.

This space virus is something else. And sunlight is out of the question. Best just stay alone in the dark.

I descend another staircase which takes me into the basement, to the kitchens. Fenek rarely uses them, preferring to get food delivered or eat out. But as he doesn’t want to take me everywhere, he has it stocked with basic re-hydrated rations and a kitchen-bot who can prepare fresh meals if I want them.

So, when I enter, I don’t expect to see another living being, let alone a massive male, with slate dark wings, feathers pooling on the floor behind him as he sits at the kitchen bench, his back to me. He’s eating his way steadily through an absolute mountain of meat.

I freeze.

He doesn’t stop eating or even look around. It’s like I don’t exist. I contemplate my options. I could back out of here, pretend I didn’t see this enormous creature and go back to my quarters.

Or I could get my glass of water because I actually live here, and I shouldn’t be intimidated in my own living space, by whatever this…hulk of a male is. An absolutely vast creature who has a very muscular back and, from my current position, a bum to die for.

One thing is for sure—he works out. A lot.

I toss my hair back and stride, well, hobble but with bigger movements…into the kitchen, making my way past the male to the prep area on the other side of him.

---