Paladin: Galactic Gladiators: House of Rone #4 Read online

A far cry from the cells the Edull had kept them in for months and months.

  Toren dropped into an armchair and it creaked under his weight. She knew that cyborgs were heavier than they looked because of their enhancements and implants. Toren was leaner than the other cyborgs, but no less enhanced.

  She went into her bathroom, wet a cloth in the sink, and found her small med kit. Then she moved back to him, knelt, and started cleaning his wounds.

  “You have to stop this,” she said.

  He grunted. “I can’t.”

  She wiped the blood off his hands. His knuckles were torn and scraped. “You could if you wanted to.”

  He stayed frustratingly silent.

  She pulled out a tube of med gel and squeezed some of the blue fluid onto the worst of his injuries. She knew that in the morning, most of the scratches and bruises would be healed. There would be no sign that he let someone beat the hell out of him.

  Squeezing some more gel onto her fingers, she gently smoothed it around his swollen eye. “You can’t drown out the emotions or ignore them.” She’d tried that when her marriage imploded.

  Her husband had decided Simone was boring, and that being a father was also boring. He might have been a genius scientist, but he’d partied, cheated, and put Simone down daily until he’d destroyed any semblance of love she’d had for him. She’d finally conceded defeat and divorced him.

  She swallowed the bad taste away. She’d tried to save her marriage, but it had only made her feel worse. She’d wanted to escape her feelings, just like Toren.

  It was a foolish dream.

  “You have to learn to deal with the emotions, Toren.”

  He turned to look at the wall, stone-faced.

  “I can help you.” She pressed a hand to his knee. “If you’ll let me.”

  He stood abruptly. “No one can help me.”

  He strode out.

  Simone’s chin dropped to her chest. Damn. The sense of helplessness reminded her of being in the hands of the Edull.

  She closed her eyes. She had no idea what to do next.

  Chapter Two

  He woke up with a shout, his sheets tangled around his legs.

  Toren sat up and heaved in a breath.

  He’d been dreaming. He’d never dreamed before. He pulled in some breaths, trying to calm his racing pulse.

  At first, the dream had been of his past. His fingers curled in the bedding. He’d been taken as a teenager by a local warlord and then transformed in the warlord’s dungeons. Toren closed his eyes, remembering the screams, the pain. He’d had implants added, his emotions had been shut off, all to make him the perfect personal-security cyborg. He’d existed to protect the warlord at all costs.

  Slowly, over time, his emotions had faded until he’d barely felt anymore.

  Toren had spent years protecting his warlord. One day, his master had come to Kor Magna to attend some illegal fights in the underground fight rings that had once raged below the city.

  It was during that visit that a rival warlord had attacked.

  There had been a brutal, massive fight that had ended in several explosions.

  The warlord and the other cyborgs in his group had been killed. Toren had been badly injured. He’d woken in a regen tank to see Magnus Rone’s icy face. The imperator had offered him a home, a life, a purpose.

  Toren had thrived at the House of Rone…until now. Now, he was sidelined. Unable to do his job.

  Useless.

  He rose and moved into his bathroom. His gaze snagged on his reflection in the mirror. There were no signs of his injuries from the night before, thanks to Simone’s care.

  Thinking of the night before made him think of her. Of her fingers on his skin, of the worry on her face.

  Emotions swelled inside him. These warmer ones he didn’t recognize.

  Grinding his teeth, he fought to shut it off. He flicked on the shower and stepped under the spray of cold water.

  After he’d showered, he pulled on leather trousers and clipped on a harness. Ordinarily, if he wasn’t training, he’d coordinate with the healers on any new enhancements they were creating and with any clients who wanted to purchase the technology. But now, even that work had been taken away from him while he recovered. He needed something to take his mind off things, to keep him busy. He headed down to the training arena.

  There were several gladiators and recruits out running training drills. Mace and Acton were already on the sand, swinging their swords. When the cyborgs spotted him, Mace paused, lowering his weapon. “You’re not supposed to be training.”

  Toren scowled. “I’m training.” He went to the weapons rack and lifted an axe. “I have no weapon implanted now.” He fought back the aching sense of loss, and swung the axe through the air, testing its weight. “Time for me to train with something else.”

  He felt the others regard him with concern, but headed over to the training dummies lined up for gladiators and cyborgs to practice with. He swung the axe, hard and fast, slamming it into the dummy.

  The blade sliced deep.

  “You appear calmer today,” Acton said.

  Before he’d fallen in love with Sage, Acton had always been the most cyborg of them all. He had two prosthetic arms and a lot of other enhancements. Before, Acton had felt very little, but then Sage had arrived and brought him to life.

  Now Acton reveled in his feelings, while Toren just wanted to turn his off.

  Mace murmured something to Acton. They talked quietly, but Toren’s enhanced hearing picked up one word. Edull.

  His muscles tensed. “What about Edull? Did you find Bari Batu?”

  The two cyborgs traded looks.

  Toren’s anger spiked. “I deserve to know. I’m not totally broken.”

  “Toren—”

  He hated Mace’s placating tone. “Don’t act like I’m a drakking child.”

  His sharp tone cut across the training arena, and on the other side of sand, several recruits looked over at them.

  Mace heaved out a breath. “You need time to recover—”

  “What if I don’t recover? What if I can never shut these emotions off?”

  “Then you’ll deal with them, like we did,” Acton said. “You might even like them in time.”

  Toren growled, then turned. He threw the axe. It whistled through the air and slammed into the dummy, setting it rocking. “I’m useless like this.”

  Acton lifted a prosthetic hand. “Toren—”

  “The Edull,” Toren bit out. “Tell me what you know.”

  “Nothing yet,” Mace growled. “Just rumors. Magnus, along with Galen, Rillian, and Zhim are tracking down all leads and sightings around the Edull’s underground lake.”

  Toren’s heart pounded. The lake was where he’d been tortured. “The city and battle arena must be close.”

  Mace shrugged. “Rillian did some flyovers. They didn’t spot anything.”

  Rillian, owner of the Dark Nebula Casino, was a wealthy ally. He’d been pouring a lot of time and money into developing ships that could navigate the desert and its sands that affected most engines.

  And yet, the Edull remained hidden.

  “I want to find them.” Anger was like a bubble, growing bigger and bigger inside Toren. “I want to kill them all.”

  He couldn’t breathe.

  Acton held out a hand, the black-and-silver metal glinting in the sunlight. “Toren, you need to calm down. I believe some deep breathing—”

  “Drak calming down!” Toren’s rage exploded.

  He strode to the dummy and yanked out the axe. Then he slammed it into the dummy again and again, hacking at it. Pieces of the dummy went flying.

  Mace touched his shoulder and, with a roar, Toren swung around, leading with the axe.

  Acton moved quickly, shoving forward and knocking the axe out of Toren’s hands.

  With a growl, Toren attacked the cyborg. Acton blocked the blows, and Toren led with a violent kick that sent Acton skidding back in the
sand.

  “Toren,” Mace growled.

  But Toren was too far gone. He was a raging mass of emotion.

  He let out a roar and attacked.

  * * *

  Simone heard the shouts, then the sound of glass breaking.

  She rose from her chair. Grace was off for the morning, playing with a little alien girl called Nemma.

  Another pained roar filled the air.

  Her stomach clenched. Toren.

  She raced out the door and onto the balcony. She looked over the railing and down into the training arena below.

  She saw Toren spin and pick up a table of drinks. He threw it at the wall, and glass and bottles exploded.

  No. Simone took off running, not bothering to stop for shoes. As she flew down the corridor, she was glad she was wearing the comfortable trousers that fit like a glove, and a soft, silky shirt. After so long in captivity, it was wonderful to have nice things. She wasn’t ashamed to admit she spent a lot of time stroking her new wardrobe.

  She took the stairs two at a time.

  Another pained, tortured cry reached her, making her belly clench. She had to help him. A part of her was drawn to Toren because of the guilt, but also because of something else, as well. Because she understood his pain.

  After being abducted, what she’d been through, and the constant worry for her daughter, she understood what it felt like to be helpless.

  She hit the bottom of the stairs, ran across the stone pavers, and darted past the pillars. She sprinted out into the training arena. The sun hit her eyes and the sand was warm under her feet.

  Ahead, Toren stood, his chest heaving as he watched Mace and Acton circling him. A few recruits stood close by, poised and alert.

  Toren looked like a predator, waiting for the right moment to attack.

  “Toren, my friend.” Xias, the champion gladiator of the House of Rone stepped forward, his powerful arms outstretched. “You need to calm down.”

  In answer, Toren let out another roar. He grabbed one of the training dummies and lifted it into the air over his head, then he threw it. Recruits scrambled to get out of the way.

  The dummy stopped in midair, and when Simone turned her head, she spotted Zaden. The younger cyborg held one hand in the air. She was aware that he possessed some telekinetic abilities. He lowered the dummy to the ground harmlessly.

  Mace edged closer to Toren and Toren spun, his gaze focused on the big cyborg.

  “We don’t want to hurt you,” Mace said. “You need to relax.”

  “I can’t. I can’t calm down, I can’t relax, I can’t control what I feel.” Toren launched himself at Mace.

  He and Mace moved across the sand, fighting each other in a dizzying array of kicks, hits, and punches.

  Simone pressed a fist to her throat. She knew Toren wouldn’t want to hurt his friends. She walked across the sand, carefully skirting the broken table and glass.

  She saw him snarl and punch Mace in the gut. The big man grunted and bent over.

  “Toren!” she yelled.

  He spun in a roundhouse kick, and Mace went down on one knee.

  “Toren!” she tried again.

  His head swung around, his gaze locking on her.

  She held out a hand. “Come with me.”

  His chest heaved. “Are you going to tell me to calm down?”

  “No. Just come with me.”

  But before he had a chance to respond, two recruits launched at him.

  “No,” she cried. “Stop!” But the attack was already in motion.

  Toren grabbed one of the recruits and yanked him off his feet. The other cyborg hit him. Toren lifted a boot and kicked him. The young cyborg went flying across the sand

  “Stand down,” Acton called out.

  “Put the recruit down, Toren.” Mace pushed to his feet.

  Toren held the recruit up, the man’s feet dangling off the ground as he kicked his feet. Then with a heave, Toren tossed the man.

  The other young cyborg had recovered and rushed back in.

  “No!” Simone knew she had to stop this.

  Toren swatted the younger man aside. The recruit’s body flew through the air and smacked into Simone. With a cry, she hit the sand and rolled over the remains of the ruined table.

  She felt a sting on her bare feet and the weight of the man drove the air out of her lungs.

  Another unhappy roar filled the air.

  Before she could sit up, Toren was there, yanking the recruit off her. He helped her to her feet.

  “Ouch.” She lifted her foot and saw blood.

  Frowning, Toren crouched and touched the cut.

  “It’s minor,” she murmured.

  But he didn’t respond, just stroked the blood away.

  “Toren?” she said.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “Come with me.”

  He looked up. “Where?”

  “Somewhere quiet.”

  He stared at her, his eyes churning with emotion. Then he scooped her off her feet.

  “I can walk.” She slid an arm across his shoulders.

  “I don’t care.”

  She rolled her eyes. She was still learning to deal with bossy cyborg gladiators who weren’t that great at following requests. As they walked out of the training arena, she caught Mace’s worried gaze, and gave the cyborg a reassuring nod.

  After a beat, the cyborg nodded back.

  “Take the stairs,” she said.

  “Where to?” Toren asked.

  “The roof.” There was a sitting area up there that Sage had told her about. Simone had been up there once or twice, when she’d needed some fresh air and solitude.

  She realized that everyone kept telling Toren to calm down, to chill, to relax—and that was the one thing he wanted but couldn’t do.

  He needed something else.

  Maybe she could help him.

  Chapter Three

  Toren strode across the rooftop, his gut churning. The wind hit his face, making his hair whip around.

  He reached the railing and gripped it.

  He smelled Simone—she always smelled crisp and fresh. She leaned against the railing beside him, looking out at the view.

  Kor Magna was spread out before them. To the left were the high stone walls of the arena, flags fluttering in the breeze at the top of them. Most of Kor Magna consisted of simple, three-story buildings built of the local stone, but in the distance the glittering skyscrapers of the District promised every type of sin.

  “I want to tear the Edull apart one by one,” he gritted out.

  “Me too.” Her voice was quiet, but in it, he heard her torment.

  She’d been held captive by the Edull far longer than he had. He’d been so focused on his own struggle, he hadn’t even considered hers.

  He blew out a breath. “How are you and Grace adjusting to the House of Rone?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Grace is happy to be away from the Edull.” Simone shot him a sad smile. “Kids are very resilient.”

  “You survived, Simone. You’re resilient too.”

  “You survived as well, Toren. You risked your life to save us. You’re a hero.”

  He hunched his shoulders. “I was just doing my job.”

  “And now you can’t,” she said quietly.

  His gut churned again, like a wild storm was let loose inside him. If he couldn’t protect the House of Rone, he wasn’t good for anything.

  “You’ll adapt,” she said. “Think of learning to deal with your emotions as training. All your recruits go through training, right?”

  He lifted his chin, swallowing back the emotions whizzing through him. He watched the strands of her black hair whip around her face. Her skin was so smooth and her lips so red.

  Heat flickered inside him and he frowned. What the drak was that?

  “How do you function with this morass of conflicting emotions inside you?” he asked.

  Simone’s lips tilted into a smile. “To f
eel is to be human.” She paused. “I guess the word human doesn’t quite apply here. Feelings make us alive, Toren. They drive us to create, to risk, to live.”

  He squeezed the railing. “I don’t want to feel. It makes my job difficult. I need control.”

  “But you also miss out on so much. Happiness, excitement, anticipation, love.”

  He shook his head.

  “The other cyborgs, your friends, they’ve all started to feel. They’ve fallen in love and care deeply for others. Do you think that they’d take those emotions away now?”

  No. He’d seen Magnus with Ever and their daughter, Asha. And he’d seen the others with their mates.

  Those men would kill for the women they loved. They’d risk everything for them and the love they shared.

  “I know nothing of love. Only duty, honor, purpose.”

  “Sounds lonely,” she said.

  He looked at her. “Do you love?”

  “Of course. I love my daughter.”

  “And her father?”

  Simone’s mouth flattened. “I used to. I thought I did.”

  Toren studied her face carefully. “I don’t understand emotions well, Simone—”

  She let out a breath. “In the beginning, he wooed me, treated me well.” She sighed. “He was a fellow scientist, and I thought we had so much in common. He was wonderful, until we got married. Then I wasn’t exciting enough, interesting enough, or attractive enough.”

  Toren blinked. Simone was one of the most attractive women he’d ever seen. She had a long, elegant body, an attractive face, beautiful hair. “I don’t understand.”

  She tossed her head back. “I wasn’t enough. He hurt me, broke my trust, and then my heart.”

  Toren turned back to look at the city. “Isn’t that proof that love and emotions are not good things?”

  “I don’t ever want to fall in love with a man again, but loving Grace is one of the best things in my life.” She reached out and touched Toren’s arm.

  Electricity zinged through him and he frowned at the sensation. “You don’t want to love again?”

  She shook her head violently. “Been there, done that. Never again.” Her fingers stroked his forearm. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to feel. Emotions are messy. They don’t run in a straight, predictable line. You can’t have the highs without the lows.”