Page 215 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Agatha

For two whole days, I watched with tense nerves as the new guard arrived and took up his post against one of the courtyard walls, watching us.

He watched Jett most of all, and it was scaring me a little, was it because they were the same species?

This huge newcomer was a Tarkan, like Jett was, but he was never out of his battle-form.

It was probably mean to think it, but this new guy was one of the ugliest males I’d ever seen.

Well, except maybe Morkan, but that Krektar had an impressive number of warts covering his face.

The Tarkan in his battle-form was the kind of creature that wouldn’t look out of place perched on a Gothic church back on Earth, with a crown of horns glittering black around his skull, tusks protruding from his mouth, and deep lines carved into his face that exaggerated each feature almost grotesquely.

Watching Jett in his battle-form as he practiced punches against a dummy, I realized that he had the same crown of horns, but his face was all soft curves still.

To me, Jett looked like himself, just a bit more exaggerated, with skin hard as stone.

I wondered if the new guard was an old guy, like he’d gotten weathered or something.

I stood with my arms crossed and my spine straight so nobody could tell how my knees trembled each time the new guard walked by.

I wanted to go over to Amar and give the little fellow a big hug, he was doing so well today, trying his best to follow Jett’s lead.

If it weren’t for the two guards watching our every move, I would have done it.

I resolved to make up for it later, when I was putting the two boys to bed.

Yesterday, the new guard had summoned Jett over to one corner of the courtyard, and they’d practiced together.

The way Jett had glowed when we sat down for dinner later that night, I could tell the male had done something right.

But that didn’t mean I trusted him; he was much sharper than the other guard.

He was watchful all the time, and it was making me nervous.

Today, I was going to keep an even sharper eye on things. If the Tarkan male was going to single out Jett again, I wanted to hear what was going on. He was already in the courtyard that morning when we arrived, so I hadn’t even had a moment to give a pep talk to my clever boys.

Amar was bouncing on his feet, his wild mane of bright blue hair floating around his head from static.

It got that way sometimes, and with a pang, I remembered how his mother—my dear friend Kimar—would sigh and rub it, trying to make the unruly strands lie flat.

I wish right now that I could reach out and do that, to offer that familiar gesture, but with the new guard watching my actions like a hawk, I didn’t dare.

When I spotted some leftover crumbs of food on Jett’s cheek, I hurriedly reached out and scrubbed them off.

If the Tarkan guard saw that I’d given the kids some of my food again, would he report me?

My furtive move wasn’t lost on the guy, of course, but he tilted his head at an angle and frowned at us without saying anything.

“Come on, boys, we need to get started,” I told them.

I made myself sound stern, but I turned my back to the male so I could smile and wink.

Amar giggled adorably, closing both his eyes as he tried to mimic my wink and failed.

Jett poked the younger child with his elbow, fighting to contain his own grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

As I helped the two kids get started with their exercises, the eyes of the new guard kept boring into my back.

I was terrified that I’d been found out, that I wasn’t behaving the way I was supposed to.

For the life of me, I couldn’t force myself to act meaner.

These boys were so young, and though I’d repeatedly explained that it was just an act—that I was doing it to keep them safe—they didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

Uron stumbled into the courtyard halfway through the first routine, his eyes bleary as he squinted balefully at the sun.

There was a bottle of liquor in his left hand; it smelled foul and wafted some kind of purple fumes.

Immediately, the Tarkan’s wings shifted as he made himself huge, facing off against his colleague.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing bringing that shit in here? ” he growled.

I stepped in front of the two kids protectively, expecting them to be scared of the threatening display.

Jett was grinning this shit-eating grin, his dark eyes glittering in what I could only call admiration.

Amar was holding Jett’s hand, taking his cues from his older friend.

He was too young to understand the tension, but he mirrored Jett’s admiration for the big guard.

Okay, I could deal with that later. I really didn’t like it, this admiration for a guard at this crazy place.

They were the bad guys. Right now, I just needed to make sure this confrontation didn’t end with one of us getting hurt.

“Back up, sweethearts,” I murmured to my little wards, and, with my hands on their shoulders, had them step back.

The Tarkan’s wings twitched as we moved, the long, lion-like tail at his back twitching in agitation.

He lowered his head, almost like a bull preparing to charge.

I could see a little of Uron through a gap between his wing and his body.

The Rummicaron, with a huge mouth full of shark-like teeth, just kept staring balefully at the Tarkan, clearly too drugged out of his mind to really appreciate just how dangerous the winged male looked.

It wasn’t unusual for Uron to be on something when he came in here, but this was the first time the male had actually brought his drug of choice inside.

He wasn’t impressed with the Tarkan taking issue with it, though I felt like he should have been.

Uron was a total washout, whereas this guy looked like he could bench-press a freaking car.

“Or what, Sunder? You’re not my boss. Actually, I’m your boss now, so you can’t say shit about this.

” He made some kind of rude gesture with his hand and trotted over to the furthest corner, where a stone bench stood against one wall.

He threw himself down on it and, while staring with cold, flat-gray eyes at the Tarkan, took another swig of his brew.

Sunder, as he was apparently called, stood staring after the male, his shoulders heaving as he struggled to contain his emotions.

Then his wings snapped back against his spine with a crisp noise, and his tail stopped its agitated movements, coming to hang in a graceful curve.

I stared at his bare shoulders, at the wide muscles that shaped his biceps and thighs, clad as he was in little more than a leather-pleated kilt—practical, since clothing was ill-suited to accommodate his alien body.

He spun around so suddenly that he caught me staring, and to my great surprise, I felt heat steal across my face. Whoa, I was thirty-eight. When was the last time I’d blushed? I couldn’t remember. Never mind that this man was the enemy, even if the kids thought he was cool.

His brow was still lowered in a deep furrow, but it shifted when he saw us huddled in the corner, as far away from their confrontation as we could get.

A corner of his mouth tilted up, a grin spreading across his face.

He broke into a trot as he came our way, and I wondered if I needed to brace myself for another confrontation—or not.

“Boys,” he rumbled when he halted in front of us, his clawed feet digging into the sandy ground.

“Jett, why don’t you show Amar that move I taught you yesterday?

” Jett nodded eagerly. Taking hold of Amar’s hand, he started to drag the boy with him to the practice dummies.

Sunder stopped them by unfolding his wing in front of them.

“No, in that corner over there.” It was the corner furthest away from Uron and his foul fumes, where the kids would be the least affected.

Jett looked in Uron’s direction, wrinkled his nose, and pulled out an impressive scowl that almost rivaled the one Sunder had aimed toward his colleague.

Then he gave us both a little nod, all mature and serious, pulling Amar with him into the indicated corner while he started talking in a hushed tone.

With each step the boys took, Jett’s voice became louder and more animated, his excitement about this new move obvious.

Smoke from the nasty bottle of whatever brew Uron was holding was starting to fill up the courtyard, even with a fresh breeze coming in from the west. It stung my eyes a little and made my mouth dry. I didn’t know what that stuff was, but I worried it might be harmful to the boys.

“Mrs. Munster,” Sunder said, his voice a deep bass that rumbled like a rockslide.

My eyes automatically shot up to meet his, a dark pair staring at me from beneath an impressive brow.

I firmed my shoulders and tilted my chin at a regal angle, in the hopes of looking less nervous.

I felt oddly limber and loose in my body, struggling to maintain the posture.

I had this sudden, bizarre urge to lean in and drape myself against the Tarkan’s wide chest.

“It’s Miss,” I said, and my voice sounded breathy and high-pitched, even to my own ears.

“I’m not married,” I added, and my hand went up to my hair before I restrained the urge to twirl a lock.

What the heck? Why was I suddenly acting like a schoolgirl?

Was I flirting? Had to be the drugs, because this guy was so far off the table I shouldn’t even be able to see him. He was the bad guy.