Page 207 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

“You there, get off your lazy ass and get to work!” the cook demanded, waving a big spoon in my direction with a sneer.

I sighed, firmly grounding myself in the reality of my situation.

Here I was, slaving away—literally—to serve the rich.

Things were never going to change; I should just accept my fate.

No, that wasn’t me. I wasn’t just going to take this lying down. If I couldn’t count on Luka, I was going to escape on my own. Nothing had changed; I had never needed a man before, and I wasn’t going to need one now.

Straightening my back and raising my chin, I picked up the nearest tray of hors d’oeuvres and headed back up the small stairs and into the ballroom.

Luka wasn’t going to know how much he’d hurt me, I was shutting those feelings away so that, even with his empathic gift, he’d never pick up on them.

If he even had a gift like that. Maybe he was just a really good con artist. Maybe he’d played girls like me so often he knew just what we’d think and feel.

I strode into the ballroom, looking for a mark, someone I could use to get what I needed.

I wasn’t even going to look for him; he could cease to exist for all I cared.

I just needed to find some stupid idiot to trick.

Huh, maybe I could try it with the Dumb Duo, but I hadn’t spotted them inside the ballroom, not good enough for this crowd, probably.

Circling the room with my tray, I was nearly out of food when I spotted the yellow Kertinal.

He was tall, with the cracks that ran across his black skin like veins softly glowing yellow.

His mane of black and yellow hair had been slicked back, the twisted horns rising from his forehead capped with gold.

In his uniform, he looked like he was trying hard to fit in with the crowd, to look as polished and rich as they were.

He still scared me, but he had clout here.

He was here to attend this thing, not so much as a guard like the others in uniform I saw circling the room.

This guy was trying to fit in, talking with guests, acting like he mattered when he was just the Dragon’s top goon.

I could see how some of her rich guests looked down on him while he puffed up his chest, could tell that he knew it and was working hard to compensate.

Pushing away my nerves and my dislike at what I was about to do, I made my way to him.

Tilting my head at a flirty angle, I worked hard at a coy smile.

He saw me approach, yellow eyes lighting up with interest. I popped my hip a little, leaning forward to display some boob while I held out the tray with food.

“Anything you like?” I said, turning my voice sultry.

It was a far cry from the seductive tones Luka’s fiancée had managed earlier, but it did the trick all right.

“Oh, definitely. Had some time to think, did you?” he smirked, showing a row of teeth where one of his sharp fangs was missing. I tried not to compare that smirk to the devious, playful smirks Luka liked to send me and failed miserably. No, I needed to do this. I didn’t need a man.

“I have thought about things, and I’m pretty sure I know who’s in power here,” I said, tilting my head to look him up and down, making sure he understood I thought it was him.

That I was trying to trade up. It was the kind of thing he would probably do, so it didn’t cross his mind that I was lying.

It served his sense of grandeur that at least someone thought he was important.

I hoped at least that it was working. This guy was not nearly as much of an idiot as the Dumb Duo was.

He sidled closer, curling a hand around my waist, which he casually slid down to grope my ass.

His eyes were focused intently on my face, almost as if he were testing me, trying to see if I was going to let him, how willing I was.

It was a struggle to let him do it, to just keep smiling up at his face, but I was fairly certain I’d managed because I saw how his eyes darkened with desire.

I was about to suggest we find a place with a little more privacy when a chiming sound filled the ballroom.

The dulcet tones seemed a universal signal for everyone, because people started moving as one toward the large banquet table set up in the middle of the room.

The Kertinal groaned in disappointment. “Do not forget this line of thought, pretty slave.” Then he shoved away from me and strutted across the room, finding his own seat at the table without a backward look.

Sick to my stomach, I headed back to the kitchen.

That guy was a bastard, but he was a means to an end.

Those words—the way he’d treated me alone—had made it clear, all at once, what he thought of me.

He’d wanted to make it clear that he had all the power, that even if I hadn’t changed my mind, he could have taken what he wanted.

This was going to be harder than I thought, but the first step had been made.

Now I just needed to figure out how to take this asshole out as soon as we were alone, and I was sure I could find a way.

The kitchen was hectic and busy; it provided plenty of opportunities for me to nab a knife and hide it in my skirts.

That would do. I just needed to catch him off guard.