Page 226 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Agatha

We didn’t see hide nor hair of Uron for almost three days.

In fact, except for someone bringing my meals, I didn’t see anyone.

Just Sunder and the boys. It was kind of nice, actually—if you ignored the weird tension between the Tarkan and me.

I wanted to go back to where we were sort of flirting with each other, but Sunder was like a taskmaster, focused on only one thing.

I felt like he was even ignoring me, which would be really silly; we had to work together.

On impulse, I’d left my hair down on day three, wondering if that would get a reaction out of him.

It had, just not the kind I wanted, but a big frown was still a reaction, so I’d take it.

Jett was certainly much better-mannered than his dad, beaming when he saw me. “Wow, your hair is pretty, Aggy.”

That was, of course, the day that Uron stumbled into the courtyard, and I immediately felt like an idiot for leaving my hair down.

He was waxy-skinned, his black eyes flat, his uniform a complete mess, but he didn’t smell like the foul brew.

At his appearance, my hand went up to touch my loose hair, but I didn’t think Uron was going to care; it looked to me like he had far bigger things to worry about.

I didn’t think a Rummicaron could appear to have a skinny neck, but the guard looked like he’d lost fifty pounds in the last three days.

He looked sick as a dog—pitiful—and he seemed to have the attitude to match it.

With a baleful look, he swept the courtyard, trudged to his favorite bench, and threw himself down on it as if his body weighed a ton. His eyes closed, his breaths coming in short pants, as if he’d just run a marathon.

Sunder and I shared a look; for the first time in days, it felt like there was a change.

This look also felt like the first time we were connecting again since our impulsive make-out session.

I hated that the moment broke after only a few seconds.

Sunder spun around and stalked over to the guard.

I focused on corralling the boys, wondering if our days of playful training, rest, and leisure were over again.

I heard a rapid, angry exchange going on between the two men, and then there was the loudest, most obnoxious groan ever—a groan that would have made a teenager proud.

A look over my shoulder showed me that Uron had gotten to his feet, and while fiercely glaring at Sunder, he had started a lap around the courtyard.

Sunder kept pace with the younger male the entire lap, urging the guard on.

I wondered if Sunder knew what he was doing at that point.

Uron hardly looked like he was in any kind of shape for physical exercise.

He was a recovering addict, maybe not even willing.

You could hardly call “under threat of death” the right kind of motivation for doing this.

Or maybe it was? It just wasn’t very ethical.

I took the boys into the sandy portion of the courtyard, the sparring pit with the broken fence.

I’d started practicing the most common script used in the Zeta Quadrant with them over the past few days.

It had been a tough learning curve for me when I’d gotten stuck in this area of space five years ago, but Kimar had patiently taught me how to read and write, as well as how to speak the Traders’ Common most used in space itself.

Jett loved it, finding the letters I’d carve into the sand with a stick fascinating and eagerly practicing his own. Amar, not so much, but he was a little too young to learn, and he loved wrecking my careful symbols.

Lifting my stick, I pointed at the sandy ground when Sunder and Uron passed, checking with Sunder if this was okay or not.

I was relieved when he nodded, and then he stuck up a thumb in such a human gesture that tears suddenly filled my eyes.

A wave of nostalgia—of homesickness—washed through me, surprising me.

It was just a simple thumbs-up, but no one in the Zeta Quadrant did that. How did Sunder know it?

A question I was going to spring on him later.

With Uron back on duty with us, even if it seemed like Sunder was now his boss instead of the other way around, we needed to stop sitting around.

I needed answers. Sunder could act like he didn’t want distractions and that we needed to carefully plan our escape, but I couldn’t help if he didn’t share his plans.

The sickly-looking Rummicaron managed four laps of the courtyard.

Even Amar could do a dozen more, and at a quicker pace.

He collapsed where he stopped and lay panting on the ground for at least an hour.

Afterward, he opened his eyes and grinned that shark-toothed smile at Sunder, his eyes gleaming. “I can’t believe that worked…”

“You’re not my first Roka recovering Rummicaron, and I doubt you’ll be my last,” Sunder said, arms crossed as he came to stand near where Uron was still resting his head on the cobblestones.

I thought I saw something pass behind the shark-like eyes, something vulnerable.

I hurried to look away when the male started tilting his head in my direction.

“You know?” he asked, his voice pitched low.

I still heard it because Uron’s voice was a sharp sound that easily carried.

I pretended not to, but I was intensely curious.

Sunder didn’t reply, but I suspected he’d responded.

Unlike Uron, he definitely could pitch his voice low and quiet; all I’d heard was an indecipherable buzzing noise.

This time, when we finished training, lessons, and play, Sunder didn’t come with us to share the evening meal or tuck the boys into bed.

He led Uron through the tunnels back to the barracks instead, the three of us watching them go with mixed feelings.

I really wanted to talk to him—I should have done that sooner—but I’d struggled to come to terms with our kiss and his response afterward.

Now it felt like my chance was slipping through my fingers.

I was pretty sure Jett and Amar were just sad that they were missing out on one of Sunder’s fantastical bedtime stories. He always had plenty—stories about brave gladiators and sneaky spies. Sometimes, when he spoke, I thought he might be retelling memories rather than making things up.

Once I was back in my own room, the boys asleep, I took my datapad and read for an hour.

I couldn’t sit still, so I did it pacing across my small room, striding from one side to the other while the voice on the datapad read one article after another to me about Arakon.

From predators to dangerous plants, I tried to cover as many useful subjects as I could.

Stripping out of my uncomfortable dress, I pulled on my nightclothes and braided my hair.

I was much too wired to sleep. Something told me we were losing our window of opportunity.

The Crimelord, Carator, was going to remember that he was interested in me, that he had little boys training to be gladiators.

What if he decided to move them to one of his own training facilities?

I was sure he had them, and I was sure he’d remember that at some point.

During yet another rather boring article on the plant life of this planet, a knock came at my door.

My heart started racing in anticipation, was that Sunder?

Had he finally come back for another round of kissing?

I really hoped so, but I suspected it was going to be something much more boring.

I shouldn’t be so eager to kiss him again anyway, that was just my hormones talking.

We were not a good match. A little voice in the back of my mind insisted that that didn’t matter, the sex would be fantastic.

I didn’t know what exactly a Tarkan was packing, but I was pretty sure it was going to be impressive.

Flicking off the datapad, I opened my door with a smile, surprised to find not just Sunder on the other side, but Uron too.

What the heck? Any hope of a few kisses and cuddles was immediately dashed.

Why was the Rummicaron here? Why would Sunder trust him?

He was an impassive, lazy, and addicted guard; he was definitely one of the bad guys.

“Oh… hi?” I said inanely, my eyes darting from one to the other in confusion. Sunder looked serious, definitely not like he was here for a social visit. My skin prickled. Did that mean we were finally doing something?

“Put on a sweater,” he barked. He pointed over my shoulder, gesturing at the wardrobe standing open in one corner.

Taken aback by the harsh tone, I hesitated to do as he wanted, just because it was rather obnoxious.

Then I realized that Uron’s eyes had dropped to my chest, clinging there like my worn shirt clung to my breasts.

Much like Sunder had done last time he was here…

Darting inside, I shrugged into one of my oversized sweaters, located my boots, and stomped into them. “Better?” I asked, heat crawling up my spine, making me realize I liked that Sunder wanted me to cover up. Was he feeling a little possessive of me after all?

“It’ll do. Come on. Uron is going to sit here and warn us if the boys knock on the wall, right, kid?

” Sunder said, his head cocking to look at the younger guard.

The Rummicaron looked miles better than he had that morning, he smelled better too.

His uniform was neat and clean this time, his eyes back to normal, and was that my imagination, or did he look a little more fleshed out again, too?

I was shocked that Sunder would trust the male to watch the boys, that he was so willing to even let this male know we weren’t being the cruel taskmasters we were supposed to be.

Although, I guess it was still unclear what we’d do should the boys knock, he hadn’t outright said that it was a signal for Amar having a nightmare.