Page 22 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

22

Finally, The Rifle and Passionate Whispers

T itan

As I announce, “Lie,” I hear the drones approaching before Blaze does. I guess all my senses are more acute than hers. I’m glad they arrived before Zedd asked me the question she just asked Blaze. What would I tell Blaze right before she killed me? The way I’m feeling right now, I might tell her I’m glad she won.

I shake my head, trying to evict that thought from my head. It’s not a safe thing to think. It just might get me killed.

The drones enter the cave and stop in front of us. The existing drones hover closer to catch our expressions.

Blaze grabs the rifle as if it’s a slithering reptile. She’s been so focused on buying a rifle, I assumed she was skilled with it. She’s wanted a rifle from the beginning—never even asked for a pistol. She said she’d been in Earth’s military. I assumed she knew how to use the thing. By the looks of it, she’s never touched one before.

It looks heavy in her arms. So heavy, in fact, she hands it to me as if she can’t wait to get it out of her grip. I’ve been a gladiator my whole life. We would be killed if we so much as touched a laser weapon. I can wield a gladius with the masters, but I don’t even know how to turn on one of these. I imagine I can learn. It’s a blunt force weapon that requires no skill, not something a talented gladiator would have difficulty with.

“You take it, Titan. I’ll figure out how to use it tomorrow,” she says, her shoulders tight from fear.

I grab it and set it against the cave wall, then retrieve the backpack full of canisters. Even though it’s obvious Blaze isn’t as skilled as she wanted me to believe, I show her the contents to make sure they sent us what they promised. She nods.

“All right, you two,” Zedd wheedles. “I think we’ve all waited long enough. Right folks?”

The recorded audience goes wild, clapping and hooting on cue.

“We’ll cut to a commercial break, and then we’ll finally get what we’ve been waiting for.”

The red lights blink out on all the drones and Hahn’s livid blue face fills the screens.

“Just to let you two know, the two new drones didn’t just bring you your rifle and batteries, they’re equipped with a little… something extra.”

Now that he mentions it, it’s obvious they are carrying more cargo—both have two guns mounted on their sides.

“Our data says we have an 82% market share. 82%! I imagine the other 18% of viewers are sleeping or dead. We’re going to give them the show they’ve paid for. Isn’t that right, Slayer?”

“Yes, Sir,” she says with a snappy salute.

It’s so rebellious I brace for a shock, but it doesn’t come. I’m sure he considered it, but then the show would have to be further postponed, and even the most interested public can’t be kept waiting forever.

“And you, Titan? Are we clear about what your duties are, or do I need to draw you cartoons so even your thick head can get the picture?”

“I believe I got it, Sir. Fucking. My job is fucking.” I salute him too, taking perverse pleasure in seeing his blue face turn angry gray as he sputters in anger.

“Welcome back,” Jahzara Zedd’s face fills the screen. “While you two were kissing feet, we polled our audience. They voted for music composed by Intergalactic phenomenon, Grace. I hear she’s an Earther just like you, Slayer. And since we’ve already seen your, what was it you called it, striptease? You can get on with the show.”

We did this last night, assuming the entire galaxy was watching. It shouldn’t feel any different tonight. But it does feel different, or maybe it’s because I feel different. Now I care for the little Earther.

Blaze

He’s still standing near the cave wall where he set the rifle. Nothing’s the same as it was last night. How can a person’s whole world change in a day? I don’t know, but I care for him now, and it’s obvious he cares about me.

“Let’s start with kissing,” I say after stalking to him and opening my arms wide. There’s such a huge height disparity he’d throw his back out if he bends to kiss me for too long, so he lifts me, swings me toward him, and my legs surround his waist as if we’ve been doing this for years.

We both got dressed during the interminable break, so my core is separated from his skin by two layers, but his heat seeps through my clothes and warms me.

“We’ve got tonight,” I whisper. “It’s you and me, Xzavic.”

One of his hands spans my waist, the other cups the back of my neck, and he leans closer with infinite tenderness. His lips don’t claim me like an eager boy in the back seat of a car who is so happy to get to first base he rushes toward home.

No, this is a grown male who wants to savor every moment. At first, his lips touch mine in what can’t even be described as a kiss. They just hover less than an inch from mine as he gets the lay of the land. He’s sniffing in great gusts of me, and I know as sure as I’m breathing that he’s memorizing my scent.

Then those blue lips brush mine in feather-soft passes, back and forth. Only when I open my lips on a sigh does he give me a proper kiss. It’s chaste. No saliva is exchanged, but it’s filled with affection.

I have no idea how I manage it, but suddenly everything falls away. The drones, the rifle, the blinking red eyes of the cameras, Jahzara Zedd, Katann Hahn, and billions of beings across the planet.

Perhaps it’s because time is short and life is so fucking precious. Or perhaps it’s that this male, whose callused hands are holding me as if I’m the most exquisite thing in the universe has become dear to me.

But I don’t want to go into this like a Christian marching to slaughter in an arena filled with lions. I want to go into this with my eyes wide open and my heart full of affection.

I drag my lips away from the sweetest kisses and place them at his ear. Before the night is over, I want my tongue to know every whorl and ridge of this pointed ear and the other. I want to memorize the thick plating of his back and shoulders and the soft, suede-like skin that covers him elsewhere.

I want to know how it feels to rake my fingers through his silky, black hair and what his response will be when I lick his eyelashes.

“I want to do this with you, Xzavic,” I whisper, wishing I didn’t have to press my lips to his ear so I could watch the expression on his handsome face. “I wish it was under different circumstances, but I won’t regret a thing we do up against this wall or in that bed or hanging from the chandelier.” I try to break the solemnity of the moment with, “Oh, they gave us fake champagne but no chandelier, bummer.”

He doesn’t chuckle at my lame attempt at a joke. He shifts slightly so his lips are at my ear. “This will be the highlight of my life, Blaze.”

My heart stutters in my chest at those words. I don’t need to be looking at him to know they are the truth from the depths of his soul. These aren’t the cheesy words spoken to get into a woman’s pants. He has no need for that.

The ineffable poignancy of the moment makes my heart clench and brings tears to my eyes.

I debate with myself for a moment. In other circumstances, I would censor myself. I would never in a million years rip open my heart and admit my tender feelings for him. But one or both of us will be dead tomorrow.

“I’ve had a shit life, Xzavic. Admitting that this will be the highlight of my life isn’t really saying much. So let me tell you…” I pause as my mind casts about for the best thing I could possibly tell him.

“I used to dream, in the before-times, before the world, the galaxy, kicked the shit out of me one too many times. When I used to dream, when I allowed it, I dreamed of a man, a male, who would look at me the way you do. A male who had strength but had the passion to match. One who was courageous enough to show it to me. In my wildest dreams, I was never bold or imaginative enough to dream of a male as good as you.”

“Ahem,” Jahzara Zedd clears her throat. “We’re waiting.”