Page 186 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Noa

I’d managed to avoid the upper floor of the resort for nearly two whole weeks, first by trading my assigned floors with some of the other housekeepers, then by getting myself swapped to kitchen duty for a while.

It was much harder work—scrubbing pots and pans and helping rush out food to serve in the restaurant—but it felt worth it.

I couldn’t get him out of my head, Luka—as if he’d burned himself into my brain.

When I closed my eyes at night, it was his face I saw, his eerie black eyes.

Except I wasn’t thinking they were all that evil-looking now, not when I’d dream about him and wake up all hot and bothered.

It was starting to drive me crazy, and it was exhausting.

I wasn’t getting enough rest, and I wasn’t eating right.

Not that the meals we slaves were given were all that appetizing, but I couldn’t manage to gobble down the required nutrients to save my life.

On the bright side, at least the Dumb Duo hadn’t made another appearance, so it seemed likely that the Dragon had sent them on another errand far away from here.

I really hoped so because I knew I’d pissed off Dumber enough that he’d want payback the next time he saw me.

He was not a bright man—or rather, alien—but he sure knew how to hold a grudge.

This morning, as I struggled out of my cot and into one of the two maid uniforms I had, I felt like death warmed over.

I was so tired that I could hardly keep my eyes open, and my limbs felt like they were made of lead.

It was noticeable even to my coworkers because the green-skinned Xurtal, Aradne, told me she was doing kitchen duty, and I had nothing to say about it.

She was always gruff, a little standoffish, so I didn’t dare object and simply took her proffered room list from her.

I was too tired to object at this point.

Just my luck that out of all the rooms Aradne was assigned to clean, the top floor was on the list—and that included Luka’s room.

I was almost ready to convince myself that he’d left, that I wouldn’t have to face him.

That all this hiding had been for no good reason—that he was gone.

I’d been so convincing that when I stepped into the hallway and spotted the Rummicaron guard, my knees buckled in surprise.

“Get it together, Noa!” I couldn’t be seen acting all weak like this.

A weak slave was a dead one, I’d heard the Dragon say it, I’d seen the others comment on it.

My bunkmate had warned me only three nights ago that I needed to get my act together or I was a goner.

It was a little frightening because I had no clue what was wrong.

Why was I struggling to eat and sleep? It had all started since I’d met Luka, and now my dreams were of him.

Squaring my shoulders, I eyed the guard, who had his flat gray eyes pinned on my form.

I had no clue if it was the same one from before or a different one, but his interest in me this time was greater than last time.

I debated whether to do all the other rooms first or get this over with.

I was flagging already, and I’d only loaded my cart and maneuvered it into the lift.

I was afraid I wouldn’t make it through the entire list—certainly not with enough energy to spare to face off against a rich guest. Maybe he was out visiting the spa, but the presence of that guard told me otherwise.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my hover cart in the direction of Luka’s room, my flat-soled, simple black shoes sinking into the plush carpet.

As I came abreast of the guard, I didn’t look up to meet those flat eyes—certainly didn’t look at the mouth full of teeth.

My eyes snagged on the row of gold buttons that held his black uniform shut over a massive barrel chest. He didn’t say anything, just turned aside and allowed the suite door to open.

I stared into the room, searching for Luka’s form, but the chair and couch that I could see were empty.

Pushing the cart through the portal, I felt a sense of relief when the door slid shut, glad that the guard was shut out.

I was almost convinced this was a different guard because this one was giving me the creeps; the other one had just seemed indifferent.

Searching the room, I noted that the curtains were closed over the big picture window. It was gloomy and dark. There was an old tray on the table with leftover bits of food, his pet monkey sitting next to it, casually munching on some fruit.

The bathroom door was open, the light off, so I didn’t expect him to be in there—which left the bed.

My eyes searched it almost desperately for a glimpse of him.

Where was he? I saw that the blankets were in disarray—a tangled mess of silky sheets at the bottom of the bed.

The pillows were scattered, some on the floor and some still on the bed, but only one was dented to the shape of his head.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” a voice drawled from right next to my ear.

I leaped a foot into the air in shock, my hand coming up with the glue gun from my cart.

I swiveled and aimed it at his face, my thumb already on the depressor.

He was laughing, his black eyes glimmering like a starry night, his hands up in the air in surrender as he backed up.

“Fuck, you scared me,” I said, my arm trembling as I held the glue gun aimed his way.

I didn’t lower it. His eyes never left my face, locked onto me as if he were drinking me in.

When he dropped his arms and casually draped himself against the wall, I noted the snug fit of the pale silver shirt, the black pants, and the glimmer of silver on his pointed ears.

My heart was pounding in my throat, both from the shock a moment ago and from his potent presence. This man… this alien… was doing things to my system I had no explanation for. I hated how much he was affecting me—I was almost starting to wonder if he’d drugged me that first day.

“I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t like that you kept me waiting.

None of the other maids were as interesting as you,” he said.

His eyes darted from my face to glide over my exposed arms and legs, over my colorful tattoos.

There was something electric in the air, something intense.

It made my skin prickle and break out in goosebumps.

I wasn’t sure if that was because of his words or because of his presence.

I didn’t want him to have taken a special interest in me.

From the looks of him, he was just another stuck-up rich guy.

I wasn’t about to become a plaything to someone like that.

I hadn’t fallen for that kind of facade, that kind of act, back when I was a poor girl on Earth Colony Four.

I wasn’t going to fall for it now, when I had even less choice about it.

His playful, intrigued smirk transformed slowly, his brow lowering into a deep frown, his gaze turning inward.

“Something is wrong, Noa. You are ill. What happened?” He approached me in a few quick steps, my trembling arm too slow to keep the glue gun aimed at his face.

He had taken it from me and discarded it beside him on the cart so fast I had barely registered that he’d moved.

I wasn’t certain if he was just that fast or if I was starting to lose my mind.

One thing I did know for sure: the concern on his face didn’t look fake, and the way he was pressing fingers against my forehead and the back of my neck was definitely a practiced move.

Maybe he really was a doctor. “Sit down,” he said.

Nothing of the teasing, playful tone was left; he was all business now as he guided me into a chair.

“How long have you been feeling sick?” he asked while his long legs ate up the space between the couch and the bathroom. I waited to answer until he’d returned with a wet towel, which he promptly pressed to my forehead. “You are absolutely burning up. Did you eat something bad?”

Struggling with this change in demeanor, this turn of events, I tried to wrap my head around his questions so I could answer them.

“Since I left here last time,” I said, my mouth dry, “we just get ration bars, but I’ve been struggling to keep them down.

” He was crouching in front of me, one hand up to hold the cool towel in place against my forehead, the other on the armrest of the chair.

I was boxed in, trapped, but it somehow didn’t feel that way.

It was a complete reversal from last time.

“Shit,” he murmured, “You’ve been sick for two weeks?

” His hand picked up one of mine, pressing it against the towel and then pressing me back into the chair so I was partially lying down, my head on the backrest. “I’m going to take care of you.

Don’t you worry.” Then he was gone, and all that fight, all that anger that had kept me going—it was gone too. My eyes slid closed without my consent.

*

Luka

To say I was concerned was an understatement.

I had been going crazy locked up in this damn room.

I’d tried a dozen different things to escape, but more than anything, I’d anxiously hoped for her return.

Now, here she was at last, but she had a raging fever, and I didn’t have any means of treating her or diagnosing what was wrong.

Determined to get her the help she needed, I headed for the suite door and accosted my guard—a new one, since I’d managed to knock the last one out and had made it almost all the way to the exit before being caught by several of the resort’s security guards.

This guy was a lot less cold and a lot more focused on his job—more interested in what was going on, the politics of it, and his own personal gain.

I’d sensed him leering at the housekeepers when they came by to clean my room; I’d sensed him leering at Noa.