Page 246 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

I spotted Uron suddenly running toward the fight from the direction of the barracks.

He had taken off his uniform jacket and was holding two practice swords made of wood.

I wasn’t sure how effective that was going to be, but he charged in with enthusiasm and started whacking his fellow guards on the head.

Then the tide changed so suddenly that I struggled to figure out what had happened.

Guns were going off, and I saw a silver-skinned gladiator topple over.

Then another, the Kertinal one who was wielding a huge sword, staggered when he got hit in the shoulder.

Iol, the Xurtal woman, had gotten her hands on a working laser rifle, and she was taking lethal potshots at them.

Nobody realized what her real goal was—the disabled laser cannon—until it was too late.

She reached the one Sunder hadn’t torn into, and with a slap of her palm, the thing started charging.

“Damn it!” someone cursed right next to me, and I jumped a foot into the air in surprise.

Or’tal had just appeared beside me as if he’d materialized out of thin air, or maybe I’d just been too preoccupied to notice him.

Sending me a sidelong glance, a corner of his mouth curled into what looked like a smirk.

He added, “Hi, Aggy.” I glared back. “Didn’t you disable that thing?

Why is it working?” If Sunder or the other gladiators hadn’t managed to disable it, she could end up blowing them all up.

His eyes darted down to my wagging finger and he laughed.

Then, without saying a word, he started jogging down the steps.

It wasn’t until he’d gone quite a few steps that I realized he was holding a freaking head in his left hand.

The Crimelord's macabre visage was pale and lifeless as Or’tal held it up high in the air and let out an ear-piercing roar that vibrated through my bones.

Everyone looked up, shock rippling through the forces—while Iol let out a shriek like a banshee the moment she saw that head.

“Yeah, the bastard is dead, stand down! No need to die for nothing,” Or’tal announced.

It would have worked—or at least, I thought it would have—if not for the fact that Iol was a zealous fanatic.

She slammed her hand down on the laser cannon’s controls, and a shot exploded from the barrel.

It hit the gate, blasting it apart, and gladiators and guards leaped to avoid the shot, some luckier than others.

I saw a male gladiator clad in leather lying face down on top of the lone female in their ranks.

His back was smoking, his body completely limp.

Then, the girl crawled out from beneath him, seemingly unharmed.

She propped a laser rifle against her shoulder, squeezed the trigger, and Iol thudded to the ground with a hole blooming between her eyes.

I hadn’t realized I had started running until I was thumping down the palace steps, scanning the battlefield frantically for any sign of Sunder.

There he was, landing on top of the wall with the limp form of the silver-skinned gladiator draped in his arms. He looked all right, even if he was scanning the field just like I had a moment ago.

There was a lot of chaos after that, but the fight was definitely over.

Surviving guards dropped to their knees, tossing away their weapons in surrender.

Or’tal took charge of that aspect, locking them inside one of the towers and coldly putting the badly injured out of their misery.

A whole flock of human ladies and one Aderian male had descended from the Vagabond, and they were patching up their wounded.

I could only stare at it all, shocked that it was over, trying to process who was an ally and who was hurt. What should I be doing—find the boys? Start holding bandages? Offer a hand? I didn’t know; I just wanted to fuss over Sunder, make sure he wasn’t hurt more than he already was.

He’d flown off, carrying the injured male in his arms and disappearing into his spaceship. I felt so lost without him, but I tried to make myself stronger than that. I had infiltrated this darn place all on my own, survived out in the Zeta Quadrant for five whole years, I was tougher than this.

“Hi, are you all right?” a kind voice asked me, and when I looked up, a beautiful African American woman had sidled up to me.

She was tall and dressed in these badass, high-heeled leather boots that seemed so out of place.

She was human, and she spoke with an American accent familiar to me, her dark, slightly slanted eyes warm and kind.

Swallowing roughly, I nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Is Sunder okay?” She started to smile, amusement filling her until she was chuckling outright. Her hand pressed to her belly as if she wanted to contain her mirth somehow. I wasn’t sure what she found so funny, but I didn’t mind her amusement.

“Seems like every time one of our guys goes off on his own, he comes back with a mate. It’s without fail, I love it,” she said, her eyes scanning the charred ground where only a few of the gladiators were now standing, inquisitively looking around.

Among them was the bull-dragon, a species I had never seen before in all my days limping around the fringes of this quadrant.

“Welcome to the crew of the Vagabond. I’m sure the girls and I are going to love having you around. If anyone deserves a mate, it’s Sunder,” the woman said, sticking out a hand for me to shake. I took it, smiling when her grip was firm and warm, and she pumped my arm enthusiastically.

“Oh, thank you. I’m Agatha Munster, but please just call me Aggy,” I said, my eyes darting back to the broken gate, searching for any sign of Sunder.

We needed to get the boys; I understood that we’d taken over this place, that we were safe now.

But I needed to hold my kids in my arms and let them know it too.

“Abigail,” she said, and her hand landed on my shoulder, giving me a comforting squeeze.

“Look, there he comes,” she added, pointing at the dark figure leaping out of the back of the ship.

I recognized him as he soared over the gate, landing near me and kicking up dust. Then I was in his arms, and he was holding me so tight I could barely breathe.

I loved it. I was clutching him back around his neck just as tightly.

“Aggy, my Fire,” he murmured in his gravelly voice, “you remain unharmed.” I pulled him in for a kiss, not caring a single bit about the audience or the sudden catcalls that colored the air.

Males the universe over seemed to be all the same about such things, warmth filling my belly at the camaraderie that surrounded Sunder and his gladiator brothers.

“We need to get the boys,” I said when we finally pulled apart. Sunder was smiling, his gray eyes shimmering with happiness. I thought that maybe he was a little overwhelmed with emotion, as if he was finally free now that his son was safe.