Page 299 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Tori

It was early morning according to the station’s schedule.

We’d woken together on the bed at the sound of an alarm blaring in the room.

It seemed like the owner of this fine establishment left nothing to chance; he either wanted us out or paying for another day in the room.

I hadn’t seen it, but I heard how Eoin had growled in frustration at the obnoxious noise, followed by the thud of his hand hitting something.

Blessed silence came after that, until Novalee made her presence known.

I didn’t want to wake, and I definitely didn’t want to get up. This bed was far too small to be shared with a man as large as Eoin, which is precisely why it was so lovely. My head on his shoulder, his arms around my waist, I had missed being this close to him—and his fantastic body.

The press of his muscles was obvious; there wasn’t much about him that was soft, from his sharp jaw and equally sharp cheekbones to the sharply defined ridges that showcased his impressive muscles.

I loved the delicately pointed tips of his ears and the bristly but prettily shimmering nature of his hair.

The new metals he’d absorbed had changed the patterns of color on his skin.

With that greenish hue among the silver and blue, highlighted by little sparkles of copper and gold…

he looked like a masculine version of Novalee’s pink, purple, and blue starry nebula patterns.

That thought was oddly pleasing to contemplate.

I shouldn’t like it so much that they kind of looked alike, even if they weren’t the same species.

Maybe this adventure, scary as it was, was what Eoin needed to see that his coddling of me was the problem.

As soon as he could see me as his equal—not this precious little thing to protect, to put on a shelf—I knew we could make this work.

I loved him. I loved how he was with Novalee.

And we could usually talk about anything.

Just as long as I wasn’t in danger, I thought a little more sourly, we worked.

Since Novalee sounded quite insistent on being cared for, I tried to sit up, no matter how much I’d been enjoying Eoin’s chest as a pillow.

He made another disgruntled noise, his arms tightening around my waist for a brief moment before he let me go.

“I’ll get her. I bet she needs a new diaper and some food. ”

We’d made an improvised crib with the single drawer from the wardrobe in the corner of the small room.

Padded with the blanket from the bed, it had kept her comfortable sleeping at Eoin’s side.

The lack of blankets for us had been my excuse for cuddling with the bulky metallurgist the rest of the night; I’d needed him to stay warm.

The baby stopped crying when he picked her up, and he made no complaints as he located the meager supplies I’d gathered so he could change her diaper.

Soon, I was on the bed feeding her while Eoin packed our belongings and quickly washed up.

Then it was my turn to hurriedly use the tiny sonic shower in the bathroom.

I missed my real shower on the Vagabond, but the waterless shower did the trick to make me feel clean again, even if it made my hair rather poofy.

I’d purchased a proper cloak to hide under yesterday, so I used the fabric I’d used so far as a makeshift wrap for Novalee, strapping her snugly to my chest. Hiding us both under the thick cloak, I still felt exposed when we left the room.

We’d done our best to leave it as clean as we could, but I was sure some of Eoin’s blood had gotten beneath the bed, and the alarm clock was irreparably broken.

The old Asrai was still behind the front desk when we arrived, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his slightly protruding belly.

Soft snores emitted from his chest, his eyes closed so that all I saw were two black spots within the skull-like markings on his face.

Eoin eyed the male with a frown, his arm coming around my shoulders to urge me toward the exit.

We’d paid upfront—there was no reason to deal with him again.

A shadow detached itself from the wall just outside the place.

It was the bouncer from last night. His leathery skin looked even more gray and unhealthy in the glaring neon lights out here, giving him a sickly pallor.

Dark, beady eyes focused on my much bulkier shape beneath the cloak.

I saw how he cocked his head, but a glare from Eoin was enough to deter him.

“I’m going to try calling my parents,” Eoin told me as we hurried away from the hotel and the bouncer’s prying eyes.

“They probably know which ships are suitable for us to charter a flight on. If we’re lucky, they’re even in the vicinity and can give us a ride themselves.

Yengar is a common port of call for them. ”

I kept my eyes focused on our progress through the crowded halls of the station while he fiddled with his com device.

Not that I thought for even a moment that he’d lost track of his surroundings, but I felt better keeping an eye on things myself.

The thoroughfares we were traversing were a bit wider and bigger than those from the brothel and room-for-rent section we’d been in.

The stalls and shops lining the sides were brightly lit, but not all of them as garishly as in the seedier parts I’d seen yesterday.

Here, I saw coffee shops, or at least the alien version of them, whatever they might serve inside.

I saw little boutiques with clothing or antiques.

I saw one shop that catered entirely to soaps, which was surprising, as most of the mass of aliens we’d moved through so far had been of the smelly, unkempt male variant.

This area was different. This was a sunnier, more polished side of the station, where the rich went to feel that little edge of danger without the same risks.

As we walked, holovid advertisements flashed to life around us, the noise from hundreds of voices filling the long thoroughfare.

I was glad Eoin had taken us here, I felt a little less scared that we’d get ambushed along the way.

Though it wouldn’t be Yengar without the occasional sight of a gambling den or brothel squashed right between a bakery and a boutique.

Then Eoin started talking, so his parents must have picked up his com call at last. “Hey, Jasmin, how’s my pretty Beverly doing?

” he said, his voice a warm, husky drawl, the kind he usually reserved for when he was sweet-talking me.

I felt a sudden, shocking barb of jealousy slice through me. Who the heck was Beverly?

The female voice that came back over the line was barely audible in the hubbub of the crowd surrounding us, but I recognized it as his mother—his adoptive mother, a human pilot who’d flown her cargo ship from the Alpha Quadrant straight to the Zeta Quadrant to escape a nasty, corrupt superior officer.

I knew from what Eoin had told me that she’d been betrayed and gotten stuck in Drameil’s slave stable, where she’d met and fallen in love with Yashan, a Pretorian gladiator about to be retired.

I knew that they’d rescued Eoin at that same time.

He’d already been in his late teens but was still scrawny and weakened from his ordeal.

That’s the part he never talked about, but I knew that Ziame had been there, and Sunder.

In fact, Eoin had been in Sunder’s cell during their escape.

That’s the only reason I knew what terrible condition he’d been in when Jasmin and Yashan took him in.

“Pretty?” a male voice rumbled, much more audible over the crowd.

“You call this ship pretty, son? Not since the last time my Jasmine tried to teach you how to fly.” The mocking words were filled with a kind of warmth, and I saw how Eoin’s face had lit up with a smile at the sound of his father speaking.

I tried to pretend the words hadn’t caused a smile to break out on my face, since they made me remember just who Beverly was.

A ship, of course, Eoin was talking about the ship he’d lived on before he’d joined our ragtag group on the Vagabond.

“They’re not letting you fly that beautiful Star Class Cruiser, I hope?

” Jasmin demanded, laughing out loud before she added, with a warmly maternal note, “I love you, kid. How have you been? You haven’t called us in ages. ”

Eoin turned his head to give me a sideways look, a closed-off expression on his face.

I could tell what that meant: he hadn’t called because of me, first because of how much time we’d spent together, then because he’d been moping.

With that kind of instinct only parents seemed to have, Jasmin honed in on his silence.

“Something is wrong! Where are you? We’ll come pick you up! ”

There was a very drawn-out, put-upon sigh from Eoin, while Yashan, in the background, rumbled at his mate.

I couldn’t hear what he said—he was clearly pitching his voice for her ears only—but I could imagine.

This couple sounded very much like my own parents.

So much, in fact, that it caused a pang of homesickness.

I could never see my family again; they were all long dead because I’d spent over three hundred years trapped in a darn stasis pod. At least I wasn’t alone. I had Novalee.

“It’s not like that, Mom,” Eoin declared firmly, right as a large alien, the kind that reminded me of elephants with their thick gray skin, almost stepped on top of me.

I tried to sidestep, but it was Eoin’s arm curling around my shoulders that kept me on my feet.

“I’m perfectly happy on the Vagabond.” His eyes darted down to mine for a moment, before they resumed scanning the crowd on the sidewalk.

I didn’t miss the heated glare he shot after the giant alien that had nearly flattened Novalee and me.