Page 21 of Enticed by the Alien Chef (Gladiators of the Vagabond #8)

Rex

Kara didn’t want to leave our hammock that morning, and I was very tempted to let her sleep longer.

There were things that needed to be taken care of that couldn’t wait, like the resolution to last night’s confrontation with Drova, the Ovter officers, and especially the Kertinal after my female.

I still didn’t know the male’s name, and it bothered me that I knew so little.

Information was the best way to arm oneself; every gladiator knew that.

You did not fight an opponent on the sands without knowing every little bit about them you could learn—their strengths, their weaknesses.

When Kara made a soft hitching noise in her breathing, I knew she was about to wake up.

Good. I dipped my head to nuzzle her neck and cheek, delighting in the bumps my mouth raised on her skin, so sensitive, my little mate.

Ticklish too, as I’d found out sometime last night by accident, especially along her flanks.

I kissed the shell of her ear, then scraped a fang over the delicate arch. That got her attention, and her eyes fluttered open. “Hi,” she said with a smile. “Good morning.” I kissed her in answer and, with regret, started to untangle our limbs so I could get up.

“We have to get to work. A show of strength to let Drova know he can’t get to us.

” Kara looked a little incredulous, but she dipped into the bathroom to wash up and dress with a little urging—and a slap on her rump that made her giggle.

We walked and ate from the bread I’d packed for us the day before, while Kara talked about Akrod and asked me a million questions about the large spaceport.

Eventually, she turned serious eyes my way and asked about my past. How did I get here?

“I was a gladiator,” I said. “Do you know what they are? Gladiators?” When she nodded, I fell into the simple story of the raiders that had taken me from my homeworld, which was still very primitive.

I had been a teenager at the time, already trained as a hunter and a fast, experienced climber.

I’d taken to the arena sands quickly and risen in the ranks to become a prime fighter, with only a handful of defeats to my name—including my last one.

“The day I got this,” I signed and touched the knot of scarring on my throat, “was the day I got my freedom. My owner said that if I survived the injury, I could take the fight money for that defeat and leave. I did not receive medical treatment; he was certain I would die, but I was very motivated to live. I did, and he kept his word. The kitchen was where I got my first real job, and when I ended up at Drova’s, I knew that bar was going to be mine. ”

Kara smiled. “In your hands, that bar could be so much more. Drova said you had shares. How close are you to owning his bar outright?” I held up my fingers, just two of them, and her eyes grew wide.

“Two percent? Seriously?” I nodded and grinned when that made her guffaw with laughter.

I was nearly the majority owner—one more push, and I’d have what I wanted: the bar and my mate.

It was also possible that Drova would make a mistake and get in trouble with the Akrod police, a situation with increasing likelihood.

If he did, I would, by default, be offered the chance to buy the rest of the shares. I had enough money to do so.

Kara was in high spirits from my news about owning the bar when we entered through the back door and stepped straight into my kitchen.

It looked exactly as I’d left it last night, so Drova had not been in.

The bar proper was a mess because the bastard had not bothered to tidy up after closing, and Kara and I set out to clean it together.

“I’m sorry they stole you from your planet, though.

That must have been tough,” Kara said when the work was halfway done.

I shrugged a shoulder. Yeah, it had been rough, but I wouldn’t change my past now that I had this future lying shimmering and perfect in front of me: my pretty human mate at my side, a kitchen to run, food to make, and a bar to share with my female.

Things could only get better if we could get rid of Drova and that Kertinal.

When Drova stumbled in from his apartment later that morning, he glared at me but said nothing.

I did not trust the safety of my female in his presence and saddled Kara with more kitchen work than she preferred while I manned the bar.

I knew something was up later that morning when Drova went from avoiding me to inviting me into his office to check some paperwork.

There was nothing amiss in the bar, no sign of any shady figures, and Drova waited patiently as I checked that the backdoor was locked.

“Come on,” he urged when I signaled Kara to be alert.

“It’s about your shares; we should discuss the future of the bar.

” My heart leaped at those words—dangling temptation in my face was a sure way to get my attention.

Had the male changed his mind about keeping his bar after last night?

Was he finally going to sell me the rest?

I should have known better: Drova was always scheming, and today was no different.

He was a vengeful male too, and cheating him out of his reward yesterday had been too much for the old bastard to take.

He wanted payback. When a scream drew my attention, he dared leap into my path, but that scream sounded like Kara’s, and nothing could stop me.

He received a punch to the side of his face for his attempt to delay me, and then I was racing from his office to my kitchen.

My brave Kara was standing in the center of the room, brandishing a large frying pan in her hands.

A small Ovt male was in front of her, his back turned to me, so I could see how he was swinging his tail wildly back and forth in agitation.

His maw had opened, ready to spit acid at my female.

There was too much distance between me and the male, but I tried to rush him anyway, my boots slapping heavily against the wooden floor as I ran.

Kara did not need rescuing from the dangerous Ovter.

Before he could spit his deadly acid, she slapped him squarely across the face with her frying pan, a mighty yell issuing from her throat as she did it.

I winced as things clacked beneath that blow, bones breaking and fracturing.

The Ovter yelled in fury and pain, tumbling to the side but scrambling upright with lizardian agility.

He was too scared of Kara or me, but fury lit his eyes when he spotted Drova racing into the kitchen behind me, still clutching his face from my blow.

“You bassstard! You tricksed me!” he lisped through bloody lips at the old Asrai, and he leaped across the room with a scream of rage.

Acid bubbled, spewing from his mouth, which I dodged, but Drova had no hope of avoiding.

I flung myself at Kara, curling her protectively in my arms. Behind me, the two males collided, the Ovter screaming in rage, and Drova in pain.

It was over as fast as the altercation had started.

Drova’s heels drummed against the floor in the throes of death, then stilled abruptly.

I had to act fast, setting aside my scared mate so I could pin the Ovter to the floor before it could harm us or flee the scene.

“Get me a rope from that cabinet,” I signed to my mate once I had him pinned with a knee in his back, arms wrenched tightly behind his shoulders.

Ovters were very flexible, and their acid was a powerful weapon, but he had just spewed; it would take him a minute to gather a new load.

“What the hell was that?” Kara demanded once I had him secured.

“Why did he attack Drova?” She eyed the dead Asrai with a horrified look on her face, her skin deathly pale from shock.

I didn’t need to ask her who the now-restrained Ovt male was; it had to be the male Kara had knocked out to get the perma-contacts.

He’d come back to settle the score, and Drova had agreed to distract me so he had his chance.

I did not feel sympathy for either of them.

“That, my love,” I signed, “is the answer to at least two of our problems. With Drova dead, the bar is ours. And this guy is going to go to prison for the rest of his life for murdering him.” I gestured at Drova’s corpse, then regretted it when it made Kara look too and grow even paler.

I couldn’t let go of the Ovter, or he’d twist around and spit acid at one of us.

“It’s okay, don’t look. Go sit at the table. Focus on our future.”

She disobeyed because that was my Kara, rising to come to my side and hug me tightly. I thought she was about to cry when her shoulders shook, but she bit her lip and said nothing while I called the authorities to deal with the Ovter and Drova’s body.

Everything became a bit of a rushed blur after that.

The police officers asked endless questions, and they took our statements separately.

I did not like that, my tension rose higher and higher with each passing moment we were apart.

Kara looked much calmer and more settled when I was finally free to pull her into a tight hug.

“Their justice system seems very swift and efficient…” she muttered against my chest. It was; they liked their paperwork, but that meant things were impeccably sorted, and the rules crystal clear.

In less than half a day, we’d gone from three problems to one. Pending paperwork, the bar would be signed over to me, as Drova had no heirs, and Laza was out of the picture. I couldn’t have asked for a better outcome, though I hated that Kara had to see that and face the Ovter alone.

Once the last person left my domain, I hugged her tight and refused to let her go for long minutes.

“I thought I was about to lose you,” I signed to her once I could manage to let go of her with one arm long enough to talk.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as scared as I was then.

But you were so brave.” The image of her swinging that frying pan was engraved in my mind.

The pan in question had managed to avoid detection by the police, and I resolved to give it a place of pride on one of my kitchen walls.

“I’m fine,” Kara murmured. “Now kiss me. We need to celebrate that the bar is ours.” I was only too happy to oblige, picking her up and pinning her to the nearest counter.