Paladin: Galactic Gladiators: House of Rone #4 Page 3

  She pulled back.

  “I’m still not sure that any emotions are a good thing,” he said.

  “Just feel. Stop trying to control it and roll with it.”

  He scowled. “What?”

  “You’re too busy trying to tame your emotions, and doing that is tearing you apart. Ride them out instead.”

  Now her words made some sense. Instead of fighting his feelings, he could ride the wave.

  She turned to face him. “Have dinner with Grace and me.”

  “Dinner?” He normally ate a nutritionally balanced, bland meal provided by the House of Rone kitchens.

  “Grace would love that.” Simone smiled. “I’d like it.”

  He nodded. “All right.”

  * * *

  Simone stirred the food cooking in the pan. She was so glad that Ever had arranged quarters for her that included a small kitchenette. She enjoyed cooking, had missed it, and loved cooking for herself and Grace.

  Nearby, Grace was babbling to Toren. Simone glanced over. Her baby was bouncing off the walls while, for once, Toren actually looked relaxed. Tonight, he wore a tight shirt in a rich, deep-blue color that suited him. It was so snug that she could see the outline of his abs beneath it. His long, blond hair was pulled back at the base of his neck.

  A curl of traitorous heat moved through her belly and she almost bobbled the frypan.

  God. Cheeks burning, she looked away. She hadn’t felt attraction to anyone in a very long time, and she didn’t want to feel it again.

  She reached over, grabbed a pot of boiling water, and drained the vegetables. They were lime green and pink, like nothing they had back on Earth, but she’d been assured they tasted good.

  You are far from home, Simone.

  She heard the deep rumble of Toren’s voice. The alien cyborg was a big clue to that as well.

  “Okay, everyone at the table,” she called out.

  “May I help you?” Toren asked.

  She shook her head. “Sit. I’ve got this.”

  Simone started serving up the food.

  “Doesn’t my mom look pretty tonight?” Grace said.

  She shot her daughter a frown.

  “Your mother is very attractive,” Toren said. “She has very shiny hair, healthy skin, a body that is in good proportions.”

  He listed her attributes in such a matter-of-fact tone that Simone stifled a laugh. “I have all my teeth, too.”

  His brows drew together and she realized that he didn’t understand the Earth reference. Shaking her head, she sat down. “Eat.”

  She watched him gingerly try some things on the plate.

  “I promise I’m a good cook,” she told him.

  Grace nodded. “Mom’s cooking is the best.”

  “It’s not that,” he said. “Before…my injury, I couldn’t tolerate strong flavors.”

  Simone gasped. “You should’ve told me.”

  “Now, I’m not so sure.” He nibbled on the meat and his eyes widened. “This is very good.”

  She watched him plow into the food, making some small, appreciative sounds in his throat. From across the table, Grace giggled.

  Simone had only taken a few mouthfuls before Toren emptied his plate.

  “More?” she asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  She loaded up a second plate for him. Watching him eat had warmth blooming in her chest. Michael had hated her cooking, while Toren’s appreciation was plain.

  Ugh, the last thing she needed right now was to think of her ex-husband.

  After dinner, Grace begged to show Toren her room. “Please, Mom.”

  Simone set their plates in the washer. “Oh, all right.”

  Toren patiently let the girl drag him to the doorway of her room.

  “You have many shades of purple,” he said.

  “It’s my favorite color.”

  Simone leaned against the counter and watched them. The big cyborg towered over Grace, but gave her his full attention. Simone felt a flutter in places she had no business feeling flutters.

  Her smile slipped. She didn’t want to be attracted to him, to anyone. Her marriage had almost destroyed her, and now, after surviving the Edull, she needed to focus on building a new life for her and Grace.

  And helping to find Bellamy Walsh. Simone had seen the fit blonde at the Edull’s battle arena. Her fellow Helios crewmember was out there, somewhere, suffering.

  “It is very…vibrant,” Toren said.

  Grace giggled. “You’re funny.”

  “Really?” He sounded surprised.

  “You make me smile.”

  There was a pause and Simone bit her lip.

  “I like that,” he said.

  “Mom told me that you’re learning to feel.”

  “It’s very difficult.”

  “But you’re a cyborg. I thought you could do anything.”

  “Not anything.” Something darker threaded his voice.

  “I bet you’ll work it out, Toren. Mom tells me we can’t always be good at something the first time we try it.”

  Simone saw Toren go still. “Your mother is very wise.”

  “You’re smart and strong and brave.” Grace grinned. “You’ll keep practicing, and you’ll nail it.”

  He frowned. “Nail it?”

  “Yes, get it right, win, succeed.”

  Toren touched Grace’s head, ruffling her hair. “Thank you, Grace. You’re very wise too.”

  The young girl beamed.

  They came back into the living room, and Simone met his gaze. A flicker of connection passed between them. Suddenly, Simone’s pulse sped up.

  Then there was a pounding at the door. She jolted, and for a second, she was back in an Edull cell, the guards rattling the door.

  She shook her head and swallowed. She was not a prisoner anymore. She hurried over and opened the door.

  Jax stood in the hall, his red cloak falling off his broad shoulders. “Simone, sorry to interrupt. I’m looking for Toren.”

  The serious look on Jax’s face made her stomach roll. “Hi, Jax.”

  “I’m here.” Toren walked toward them, Grace clinging to his leg.

  The sight of them made Simone’s heart go pitter-pat.

  “Toren, there’s a meeting in Magnus’ office,” Jax said.

  “What about?” Simone asked.

  Jax’s face turned wary, and he glanced at Grace.

  “Tell us,” Simone said.

  “The Edull,” Jax replied. “There’s been a sighting.” The House of Rone’s second-in-command looked at Toren. “Galen’s here.”

  Simone had met the imposing imperator of the House of Galen before. He’d taken in the first human abductees who’d been stolen from Jupiter’s Fortuna Space Station. Those survivors from Earth were now all happily mated to House of Galen gladiators and their allies.

  “I’m coming,” she said.

  “Simone—”

  She skewered Jax with a sharp look. “I deserve to know. They snatched us, held us captive.” Her chest burned. “This is my fight too.”

  Toren stepped up beside her. She felt his fingers brush the small of her back, and the silent support made her throat tighten.

  Jax stared at Toren a beat, then inclined his head. “Very well.”

  “I’ll ask Nemma’s foster family to watch Grace.”

  “Mom—”

  “Get ready for bed, baby girl,” Simone said.

  Her girl looked ready to argue, but finally, she nodded.

  Toren reached out and touched Grace’s nose. “Thank you for this evening, Grace.”

  “See you tomorrow, Toren.”

  Simone lifted her chin. Her ex had once accused her of being cowardly. He was wrong. She’d survived hell and she wasn’t hiding. She was facing the Edull head-on.

  There was another woman from Earth out there, and who knew how many other captives of different species, all of whom deserved freedom.

  We’re going to find you, Bellamy
.

  The Edull had to be stopped.

  Chapter Four

  As Toren walked into Magnus’s office, the first thing he saw was Galen.

  Imperator Galen had a craggy face, dominated by the black eye patch over his left eye. His dark hair was cut short, with a dash of gray at the temples. His powerful body was covered in black leather, with a black cloak falling down his back.

  The imperator was flanked by his mate and his champion gladiator.

  Samantha Santos wore fighting leathers, her blonde-brown hair in a long braid. She’d survived her Thraxian captors, won in their violent desert arena, and now stood at Galen’s side. Raiden Tiago, one of the best fighters in the Kor Magna Arena, stood on the other side of Galen. The muscular gladiator wore a red cloak, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Magnus glanced at Simone, and for a second, Toren thought his imperator might send her away. Instead, he nodded and sat behind his desk.

  “What have we got?” Toren asked.

  “Two Edull were spotted in Kor Magna,” Galen said in a deep voice.

  Simone sucked in a breath and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Do you…?” She straightened. “Do you think that they are after me and Grace?”

  “Not that we can tell,” Sam answered.

  “No doubt planning more trouble,” Magnus said.

  “Where were they spotted?” Toren asked.

  “At an auction,” Raiden said. “An exclusive event attended by a lot of wealthy buyers.”

  Toren felt a shot of anger. “Where? And what was for sale at this auction?”

  Galen shifted. “It was in the District.”

  “There was a lot for sale,” Raiden said. “But mostly, it was high-end slaves.”

  Simone let out a shocked breath.

  “And some high-end tech,” the gladiator continued. “Our source thought that some of it was likely of Edull origin.”

  “I’ve already talked with Rillian,” Galen said. “He’s trying to get an invite to the next auction. He’s also asking around discreetly to find out who else was on the invite list, because as far as he knows, there were no Edull names on it.”

  A muscle ticked in Magnus’ jaw. “They were someone’s guests.”

  Galen nodded.

  “We have to find these Edull.” Toren knew that this was the only lead they had to Bari Batu and the battle arena. Rage surged, dark memories clawing at his mind.

  Then he felt the brush of fingers against his hand.

  Simone.

  No one saw the small move. Barely a brush, and yet it steadied him.

  “We’ll find them,” Magnus said. “We won’t stop until we do.”

  Toren nodded.

  Magnus sat back in his chair. “Once we have more information, I’ll keep everyone informed.”

  Toren knew they’d been dismissed. He took Simone’s arm and led her out. Her face was pale.

  “I need to get back to Grace.” She pulled away from him.

  “Simone—”

  She chafed her arms with her hands. “I’ll be fine.” She headed down the corridor.

  He watched her walk away. So graceful and composed. She’d been through so much, and yet, she still held herself like a queen. He felt that flare of heat in his gut again.

  Swiveling, Toren headed toward his own rooms.

  He didn’t need much sleep, but he knew he should try to rest. Their head healer Avarn had told him that sleep would help with his healing.

  He’d do anything to help his organics heal, so he could get his implant back and his emotions gone. He reached up and touched the plate on his shoulder. The metal was cool under his fingers. His weapon wasn’t there and he felt its absence keenly.

  In his room, he prepared for bed and tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, images peppered his head—the Edull tearing into him, being banned from his House of Rone duties, losing control of his emotions. He couldn’t work alongside the other elite cyborgs because he was a liability.

  He growled, anger welling. He tossed his sheets back and rose. He wanted to punch the wall or break something.

  He paced his room and time blurred. As he stalked past the windows again, he had no idea how much time had passed. The emotions swelling inside him made him feel like a caged animal.

  Then he remembered what Simone had said, to ride the wave of emotion. To use his anger.

  He spun and headed out. Maybe some target practice would help him. He didn’t have his shoulder weapon, but he could still be the best shot using other weapons.

  The corridors were empty as he strode through them. When he reached the arena, it was empty. The first blush of dawn light was crossing over the walls.

  He picked up a MaxTek rifle from the weapons rack. Projectile weapons and cyborgs were banned from fighting in the gladiatorial arena, but they still had their place on Carthago, especially in the dangerous deserts. The House of Rone made some of the best weapons on the planet.

  He lifted the gun, adjusting to the weight and feel of it. He lined up with several targets on the far wall. As he fired, a laser lit up the shadows. He kept firing, aiming a barrage of lasers into the target.

  “Not bad,” a deep voice said from above.

  He looked up and saw a shadow hovering above him. A sleek, metallic flyer glided in silently and landed beside him on the sand.

  Maxon switched off the flyer’s engine, the breeze catching his shaggy hair. The man’s brown hair was shot through with strands of gold. The House of Rone’s weapons master was big, with broad shoulders and long legs, and perpetually in a bad mood.

  “Maxon,” Toren greeted him.

  “Still recovering?” the weapons master asked.

  “Yes. I’m still volatile.”

  “Welcome to the club.” Maxon threw his leg over, climbing off the flyer.

  Toren snorted. “You feel a lot, Maxon. How do you function with all that emotion?”

  Maxon’s enhancements weren’t visible, but he was a cyborg.

  “I’ve always felt, Toren. The emotions I feel fuel my creativity and my work.” He touched the side of the flyer and a compartment opened.

  “Is this flyer your design?” Toren asked. Maxon was always tinkering with new designs.

  “Yep. Still experimental. I’ve designed it for operating in the desert.” He scowled. “Just haven’t perfected it yet.” From the compartment he pulled out a sleek weapon. “Here.”

  Toren turned it over, the silver metal almost warm under his skin.

  “It’s a prototype,” Maxon said. “Only someone with cyborg reflexes can use it. I’m calling it the MaxStorm.”

  Lifting it, Toren aimed and fired. It fired smoothly, without a jerk. The laser was a continuous stream of silver, like lightning. It hit the center of the targets.

  He glanced up and saw the faint smile on Maxon’s lips.

  “It’ll take ricochet bolts as well.” Maxon jerked his head. “I have to go.” He turned on his boots and strode away.

  Ricochet bolts had been Toren’s favorite with his shoulder weapon. He kept firing, learning the weapon. It sang under his fingers.

  “That looks cool.”

  He turned his head and saw Grace standing nearby, leaning against a pillar.

  “It’s early,” he said. “You should be sleeping.”

  She shrugged and nodded at the gun. “Can I try it?”

  “No.”

  She shot him a stubborn look. “But I want to learn to protect myself.” She looked at the ground.

  “Grace?”

  “I don’t ever want to be someone’s prisoner again.”

  He’d learned enough since he’d been deluged with emotions to hear the pain and fear in her voice. He’d been blind to how people had felt before.

  “You’re safe now, Grace.”

  She lifted her head. “Can I have a hug instead?”

  A hug? He looked at her and realized he couldn’t say no. He nodded.

  She rushed at him, wrapping h
er arms around his waist, and burying her face in his gut.

  Slowly, he wrapped his arms around the girl and held her tight.

  She tilted her head back, speculation in her dark eyes. Drak. He knew when Grace started plotting, trouble seemed to always follow.

  When her gaze drifted down to the weapon in his hand, he realized that if he didn’t let her try firing it, she’d just try later by herself.

  “Come here.” He spun her around to face the target.

  She beamed up at him.

  “You are not to try this by yourself.”

  She nodded.

  “Your stance is very important.” He nudged her feet apart. She was vibrating with excitement.

  She gripped the weapon and aimed.

  “Keep it steady and take your time to aim. Now touch the trigger.”

  She fired. The laser fire went wild, scoring the wall.

  He took it from her and strode over to the weapons rack. He picked a smaller weapon that was better suited for her. “This one will be better.”

  She pouted. “It’s small.”

  “Because you’re small.” He turned her shoulders. “Stand up straight, plant your feet. No, not like that.”

  She adjusted her stance again.

  “Straighten a little,” he said. “Lift the weapon.”

  She dragged in a breath, her face focused.

  “Okay, line up with the target and then depress the trigger slowly.”

  Grace fired and the shot went low, hitting the sand.

  She made a small growling sound.

  He shook his head. “You moved your feet when you fired. Hold still.”

  She pulled in a breath. “I can get it.”

  Such determination. Something told him that Grace would never give up.

  She fired again, the shot hitting the bottom of the target. He adjusted her stance, and this time she held it.

  When she fired, she hit the outer ring of the target and let out a cry of excitement. She shot him a big smile.

  “What’s going on here?” A sharp feminine voice.

  Toren looked behind him and saw Simone bearing down on them. He didn’t need to feel emotion to know that she was mad.

  “Uh-oh,” Grace murmured.