Page 9 of Adtovar (The Alliance Rescue #1)

Well, shit, I just lied to his face.

I felt a pang of guilt over the deception.

After all, Adtovar was incredibly sweet in helping orchestrate our rescue.

Not to mention the fact that he looked like Legolas, which was a big plus in my book.

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to relinquish the one secret that granted me a modicum of leverage in this brutal world.

It wasn’t the most virtuous tactic, but it served my purpose, and I honestly believed the voodoo spirits likely didn’t object.

I wasn’t a mambo , not even close. The closest I ever came to practicing voodoo was through my grandmother and aunt’s occasional rituals, and even then, only dabbling in its mysteries.

“Voodoo.” Adtovar rolled the word over his tongue like it tasted delicious. “What is voodoo? Is it one of Earth’s many religions?”

“Kind of.” I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, pondering.

How exactly did one describe voodoo to an alien male?

“It’s a religion from the culture of my African ancestors—a belief that all living things have spirits and that those spirits linger even after death.

We believe the spirits of our ancestors—called orishas —guide and protect us.

As long as we stay faithful to our ancestors, they will protect us.

.. and give us the magic to protect ourselves. ”

Adtovar’s eyes lit with genuine curiosity. His eyebrows raised as he leaned forward, hanging on my every word as a small, intrigued smile played on his lips. “And these voodoo spirits are how you smote Bozzo?”

“Something like that.” I glanced down, noticing the gray stones that littered the floor. I really should sweep. “My ancestors don’t like to see me mistreated.” At least that wasn’t a lie. My grandmother and aunt would have kicked Bozzo’s ass six times over by now, if possible.

“I vow to you. I only have your safety and that of the other females in mind,” Adtovar said with a thump of his fist against his chest.

That seemed like an oddly peculiar statement for him to utter, and curiosity gnawed at me wondering exactly what Lafalia might have told him.

“I know.” Deep in my soul, it felt as though the voice of an ancient voodoo spirit softly whispered sacred words to me imparting an unshakable certainty.

Alien or not, I could trust this man. “I have a sneaking suspicion my ancestors would like you,” I added with a grin.

I knew damn well my aunt Juanita would. She would think Adtovar was hotter than asphalt in July —one of her favorite euphemisms for a handsome man.

“Thank you, “he said, lips curling with a mischievous glint in his eyes, as if he could read the very thoughts swirling in my mind.

We locked eyes, our gazes intertwining in an unspoken exchange that stretched on for an endless moment.

The air seemed to thicken, charged with invisible energy, crackling with possibilities.

“So, um... have you given any thought to how you’re going to get us out of here?” I asked, breaking the spell of intensity.

Adtovar frowned, his brow furrowing deeply.

Almost instinctively, as if unaware of his own actions, he reached up and scratched at his horns.

I’d noticed him do it several times already, each time seemingly unaware of the action.

Having horns must itch. His were a striking blend of elegance and strength, as beautifully curved and polished as they were imposing.

“Hopefully, it should be simple,” Adtovar stood from the chair, and the worn wood groaned in relief.

“I will offer to buy a few of the gladiators and all the females.” He grimaced, as if regretting what came next.

“Harem females are easier to replace than a trained gladiator. If Bozzo argues against my offer, it should be about one of the males.”

“I agree.” I didn’t like it, but he was right. “Bozzo sees one female as good as the other, but he’s a little more particular when it comes to the fighters. It will depend on who you offer to buy.”

“Do you have suggestions?” Adtovar asked.

My mind tripped over the roster of gladiators. Some reveled in the sport, drawn by the allure of brutality and the thrill of bloodshed. Others—like me—were enslaved, their freedom a more distant dream than my own.

“Roxxan is a good guy. He’s never hurt one of the females. Keeliatt either. While they’re not champions, both are good enough fighters that I don’t think Bozzo will be suspicious about your offer to buy.”

Adtovar nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind behind those pale blue eyes. “I will need to watch a sparring match in order to make my selections seem legitimate. Any others?”

I pondered for a minute, my stomach churning with a mix of worry and disgust. We discussed the freedom of sentient beings as if they were items from the Walmart bargain bin, devoid of value and individuality.

How many times were my own ancestors discussed this way?

“Ronco is a decent enough guy. Not a great fighter—he’s always getting his ass kicked.

Darikja and Leibit are okay—they can be a little rough with the girls sometimes, but I don’t think they are inherently bad, just sick of being slaves like the rest of us. ”

“Once the females are aboard the Historia, no one will allow the gladiators near them ,” he promised.

“Even so, don’t pick Melakor,” I warned.

“Melakor?” Adtovar rolled the name over his lips, his face settling into a frown.

“He’s one Bozzo probably won’t consider selling,” I added, grateful for the fact. “He’s only been here a month and....” I swallowed back the hot, angry bile. “He’s the one that hurt Lafalia.”

Adtovar tensed, shifting on his feet, turning to glance at the door as if considering tracking down Melakor down and kicking his ass.

When his pale blue eyes found mine again, they held fury.

“Melakor needs to be punished severely for what he did to the tiny female. I will do everything in my power to see that it happens.”

Damn, it wasn’t just my libido talking. Adtovar was a genuinely decent guy. I felt my defenses melting away, a warmth spreading through me that made me feel unexpectedly girly and, truth be told, more than a bit awkward.

“You must be wealthy to be able to do all this buying. Slaves aren’t cheap,” I chuckled, trying to move the topic onto something that might quell the delicious little tingle dancing over my skin.

I didn’t have the first clue how much Bozzo thought the gladiators and females were worth. Not much based on how he treated us.

“Far from it,” Adtovar snorted, coming to stand by the cot. His impressive bulk leaned gracefully against the wall. “But I am backed by the Alliance and Duke Ako in this quest. I will have all the funds I need.”

Talking about pedantic things like finance did little to alleviate the tingle.

He was simply too close to ignore. I needed to get my mind off his muscular, hot body that smelled like leather and fireplaces and really nice bourbon.

“What do you need me to do? I’d start packing, but as you can see, I don’t have shit. ”

“Nothing.” Adtovar glanced about the room, seemingly saddened by my lack of stuff. “Bozzo let me speak to you so I could convince you to agree to the sale without smiting him. I suspect he will be so happy to hear you have agreed that he will accept my offer.”

I laughed, delighted that I had put the fear of God... or voodoo in Bozzo.

Adtovar drew nearer, mesmerized by the sound.

His fingertip gently brushed along my cheek, igniting a spark that coursed through the air like a current of electricity.

The sensation was both unexpected and thrilling, and a shiver skittered along my spine.

His pale gaze heated, and for a split second, it felt just like that time in fifth grade when I knew Rodney Graham was going to give me my first kiss.

Yet the touch of his lips against mine never came.

Adtovar cleared his throat, dropped his hand, and stepped away, putting several feet between us.

Yet when he spoke, his words were so sweet, it felt like a hug.

“You are a brave female. You have cared for the others. Now it is time to let someone care for you.”

“Thank you, Adtovar,” I whispered, the sound husky and perhaps a bit needy.

I was never much of a social butterfly. My studies always consumed my life, leaving little room for romance.

Even when I ventured into the realm of dating, my boyfriends were invariably the nerdy type.

The kind of guy who found discussing quantum physics or the latest technological advancements to be the ultimate turn-on.

Their world was my comfort zone. But Adtovar was a different breed altogether.

He exuded pure masculinity, every inch of him radiating confidence and boldness.

I felt like a fish out of water, floundering in this unfamiliar territory. .. but surprisingly, I didn’t hate it.

“Stay here. I will return shortly.” His voice sounded gruff as he turned toward the door.

“And then we can get the hell out of Dodge?” I suggested with a grin.

Adtovar glanced at me over his shoulder, his lips quirking upward when he noticed my smile. “I don’t know where this Dodge is located, but yes, hopefully, we can leave this planet behind.”

He slipped through the doorway, and I watched as his figure slowly dissolved into the encroaching shadows, his footsteps gradually fading from a comforting thud on the earthen floor to silence. It was as if the shadows themselves had swallowed him whole.

I settled on the cot again, feeling restless.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a flicker of hope surged within me, bubbling up like a long-dormant spring finally breaking through the surface.

A feeling so foreign in this place of blood and death, I clung to it, hoping I never had to let it go.