Page 16 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Jasmin

The sky had torn open, emptying itself of dizzying amounts of water.

My barely dried flight suit was already soaked again.

Clutching Yashan’s body tightly as he ran like the wind, I could still see at least half a dozen guards pounding through the muck after us.

I was certain that, at any moment, they’d turn on these damn pain collars and we’d all drop—except that moment never came.

And they were falling behind, unable to keep up with the highly trained Yashan, even if he was carrying me, or the huge Beast with his ground-eating strides.

We’d ducked and weaved around a few corners too, then Beast had led us behind some stacks of crates.

His scales were glimmering from the rain, heaving up and down from exertion.

“We need to get to the port,” Yashan said as he helped me to my feet.

Beast had dropped the youth to the ground, and the tall but thin, gangly alien had huddled there with his arms around his pulled-up knees.

Now I watched as the big red Pretorian bent down to talk softly to the kid, one arm curling around that slender rib cage, sheltering him.

My body was itching to move now. He was the one who knew the way, but he was also the one talking to the boy, taking his time to do it.

I looked over my shoulder, searching for any sign of pursuit, but the pouring rain made visibility terrible.

When some of the rain stopped slashing at me from the side, I looked up to see that the big green beast now stood at my side, using his huge body to shield me from the worst. He wasn’t looking at me, but was running his claws over the pain collar.

These collars were made to be tamper-proof.

We really needed to get them off, or the guards would have one hell of an edge on us when they got near.

Then my eyes fell on the box controlling the Beast’s collar, something was odd about it.

Comparing the device to the ones the boy and Yashan were wearing, I noticed that only Yashan’s had blinking lights.

“Wait, the pain collar, something’s different. ”

Beast immediately stopped scratching at his own neck when he saw what I’d noticed.

He followed that by clawing at his neck and ripping the collar off in one fell swoop, grunting in satisfaction.

Yashan had just looked up as he did that, and he actually flinched in shock, his mouth dropping open.

“Are you crazy? That thing could have blown up or killed you! It should have…”

The Beast tilted his head, one horn nearly plonking me on the top of my skull.

The young teen, now curled up against Yashan’s side, met the Beast’s eyes.

The soft azure glow of them still seemed terrified, but he looked a little more steady.

At that meeting of gazes, he squared his slender, bony shoulders, lifted one hand, and touched it to the collar around Yashan’s neck.

A moment later, the lights blinked off, and the boy dropped his fingers, offering him a tentative smile.

With a mildly astonished look, he felt along the edges of his own pain collar and then, with just as much determination, ripped the entire thing off his neck.

“I don’t know how you did it, kid, but thank you.

” His low rumble was warm and comforting, and I could tell the young teen responded well to it.

Letting Yashan help him to his feet, he took shelter beneath both of his right arms. He stood on trembling legs, and for the first time, I realized that his skinniness had more to do with undernourishment than his teenaged youth.

At his gesture, I lowered my head so the boy could perform his magic trick on the pain collar wrapped around my neck.

From this close, it looked as if his fingers were pulling some of the metallic components straight through the casing and out of the mechanism—almost as if he could absorb precious metals through his skin.

The lustrous, swirling patterns of copper and silver that flowed over his honey-tan skin seemed to deepen and spread as he did this.

“Let’s go,” Yashan ordered briskly. He started leading the kid around the stacks of crates and into a warren of various outbuildings.

He was carefully keeping the kid at his side, urging him to keep up.

When I hurried after them, I found myself reaching out for one of his other hands, feeling the urge to anchor myself to them in this pouring rain.

Except he pulled his fingers casually out of reach, then moved to swing the kid up into his arms and quicken his pace to a jog.

Shit, was that on purpose, or had I just misread the situation?

Suddenly I worried my bad taste in men had struck again.

We barely knew each other, and he’d been locked up for years, of course he’d leap at the chance to be with me.

Didn’t mean he cared in any way, did it?

These stupid doubts were killing me here.

This was hardly the time or the place, not when I was running for my life in a freaking monsoon.

Resolved not to think about this until after we’d gotten aboard Bev, I quickened my pace and followed Yashan’s red, athletic form into the rain, up the steep hill toward where the ship’s landing field lay.

Each time I slipped or skidded in the dreadful mud the path had turned into, it was the Beast who righted me with a massive clawed hand to the back or a boost with the tip of his tail.

Sometimes, he’d even offer it to me as a handhold, very non-beastly.

“I bet you can talk; we just don’t have your language in the translation database. Do we?” I asked him between pants, my breath sawing in and out of my chest. In response, all I received was a snort. Right, maybe he didn’t understand us and was just guessing our intentions.

*

Yashan

We were almost up the hill, and thankfully, Jasmin was managing to keep up just fine.

I hated my instinctive withdrawal when she reached for my hand a moment ago.

I should have taken it. But in that brief moment, I’d felt the shame again—of not fighting harder when I was captured—renewed in the feeling that I hadn’t done enough to rescue my brothers trapped in the stables here.

She’d only been drawn to me because I was a port in the storm her life had become.

I was something safe and friendly in what was surely one of the blackest periods of her life.

Once she was out of here, she’d move on to better, more deserving men.

I scowled, gritting my teeth into this climb with the surprising weight of the youth in my arms. No, I couldn’t stand the thought of Jas with another man, she was mine.

I was going to convince her of that. I had to.

With freedom glimmering tantalizingly at the horizon in the form of the clunky Long Hauler parked on the nearest landing pad, I needed to grab hold of my own destiny with both hands.

So what if I felt like I wasn’t good enough for someone as beautiful and feisty as Jasmin?

I’d spend the rest of my life proving to her that I was.

We were just sprinting across the landing pad, approaching the ship, when I heard the first sign of our pursuers. Glancing behind me, I could see that the Beast had dropped back and taken up a defensive position, arms spread, blades out.

At the hatch to Beverly, I set the kid onto the metal ramp and let Jasmin rush past us so she could start opening it.

I spun, spreading out my arms and unwinding the chains on my upper wrists so I could use them as makeshift weapons.

On the hill, I could see that guards had mobilized, some were running up it, struggling through the rain and mud—but the hum of vehicles indicated that more had gotten into all-terrain wagons and were rapidly approaching.

Too much for just Beast and me to fight.

There was a metal grinding noise as the ship’s hatch slid open, then a shocked, angry scream from Jasmin.

I spun around just in time to see her wrestle with an Aderian male with long white hair.

She had both hands in that hair and was pulling harshly, using a foot to try to unbalance him and topple him off the ramp. Her favorite tactic.

“You bastard! Selling me! Stealing my Bev!” she was fiercely yelling, just as the male managed to get a hand up and sent a staggering punch into her solar plexus.

She doubled over, her grip on his hair slipping, but she was smart, she made herself small instead, ducking while wheezing for breath under his guard, and hitting his knees hard.

That did the trick, sending him over the edge and straight into the mud.

I whooped, “Good job, Jas,” then ushered her and the silent youth into the hatch.

“Get her up and running.” She gave me a determined nod and leaned in—I was certain she was about to kiss me—just as the sound of feet on the gangplank drew my attention.

With regret, I spun and faced off against the Adarian who’d gotten back to his feet.

A grin split my face in two. Yes! I was going to give this bastard what he deserved.