Page 325 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Jakar

I was scanning our group of rescued humans, eagerly taking in each of the female faces but trying to pretend I wasn’t.

It was important that I looked each of these women in the eye to see if she could be my mate.

I wanted one so badly, and now I was the only gladiator left on the ship who didn’t have one.

I mean, I knew Eoin and Tori were head over heels for each other.

Everyone knew that, even if they had yet to admit it.

I wanted what all my brothers had; I wanted to be the half of a whole so badly. ..

I didn’t think I was very good at hiding what I was doing.

I was getting warning looks from Camila, and even Thorin was giving me a glare.

Then again, Thorin tended to have a glare in place all the time, so I could probably discount that one.

I grinned, my eyes snagging on a slender human female with long blonde locks.

She was pretty, and when she looked at me, her blue eyes wide and fearful, my heart went out to her.

It just didn’t start racing, didn’t pound with the knowledge that she should be mine.

My mind flashed back to the auction house my brother and I had just raided.

Nearly a dozen humans had been there, locked in cages, pain collars around their necks.

Most were female, but there had been a handful of males, too.

I’d been hopeful that my mate would be among them, but I was starting to think I’d missed out yet again.

At least we’d made the auctioneers pay for what they had done. I could be satisfied with that.

“Come on, this way,” Thorin called out from the head of the group.

“We’re almost at the dock and safety.” He’d modulated his tone, but he still sounded stern and a little snappy.

At least the humans had no translators and wouldn’t understand a word he’d just said.

Camila was repeating it in a much kinder way, and I could tell they responded well to that.

I was pretty sure that, without the presence of Thorin’s human mate, we never would have gotten this group convinced we were the good guys.

I couldn’t say I blamed them. Had I been in their shoes, I would have been distrustful of any kind of rescue too, especially when I was young and didn’t know much about the Zeta Quadrant yet.

At least I’d grown up hearing stories from my gladiator brothers about species in the quadrant that didn’t tolerate slavery—safe havens we could dream of, species that were more likely to rescue us than harm us—like the Aderians or the Kertinal.

These humans knew nothing of where they were, and they’d been stuck in stasis for hundreds of years.

Everything they did know was dead and gone.

Shouldering aside an Asrai male who dared to get too close to our group of refugees, I shot him a warning glare.

We were traveling at a slow jog through the Yengar space station.

It was taking us far too long to reach safety.

I worried that whatever passed for authorities on this damned, lawless station would rally and come after us if we didn’t hurry.

We were hardly inconspicuous, with a whole horde of humans to herd.

Eyes were following us everywhere we went, and there were only three of us to protect them.

Enough, given our skill set, but not exactly a threatening escort, and people were trying to see if they could snatch some of the humans right out from under our noses.

I had no patience for that behavior, and, bringing up the rear, I was the one who dealt with the most daring.

I conked one such fellow on the head with a closed fist, knocking him out with a single blow.

Then we were hurrying into an elevator that would take us to the right level for the dock where the Vagabond was berthed. Good, a moment of reprieve from prying eyes. Camila, Thorin, and I made sure no one but us got on it, and then we guarded the entrance.

I didn’t think any of the humans were injured; they were just scared, huddling against the back wall. I tried again to look at each face, hoping against hope that one of them was my mate, but the longer I was in their presence, the more certain I became that it just wasn’t going to happen to me.

I envied my brothers with their mates, and I was extremely happy for them at the same time.

Each of them deserved their female. I was especially happy for those closest to me, like Fierce and Doom, or rather, Da’vi, as he was actually called.

Neither of them had been looking for their female.

They’d just had them land in their laps; just like that.

Why couldn’t it happen similarly for me?

The crowd on the docks was much thinner, and it mostly consisted of laborers loading and unloading ships.

I had a bad feeling about this. Something was going to go wrong.

As if my thoughts had summoned him, Fierce and his trusted Ferai beast jogged around a corner.

A feral grin spread across my brother’s face, mirrored by the beast he was mind-bonded to.

Two humans followed him, one, a young woman; the other, an even younger boy.

Hina held one of each by the hand, her face pale beneath her black hair.

It was that expression that clued me in that everything was not right.

My eyes leapt over the new female to scan the more crowded and larger thoroughfare they’d come out of, and snagged on the group of green-clad males following them.

“Run!” I yelled, and Hina and Camila echoed the cry, urging our rescues to greater speed. With Camila in the lead, racing toward the Vagabond in the distance, Fierce and Thorin fell back with me to bring up the rear.

As soon as those men got out of that crowd, they’d start shooting, heedless of the laborers still going about their business.

I knew I needed to get us protection. We were prime targets like this.

If there was one thing I knew, it was that guns always won at a distance like this.

That’s why they were never allowed in a gladiator ring.

We were passing stacks of crates being unloaded, my ears ringing from the panicked screams coming from our rescued humans.

I was suddenly glad that my mate wasn’t among them.

I didn’t think I wanted a mate who screamed in panic when in danger.

That just seemed so silly; it wasn’t going to help you survive any better.

Look at Camila, she was cool and unflappable, her expression determined.

It was no wonder she and Thorin were such a good match; they had such similar attitudes, although Camila was much friendlier.

As soon as she retrieved her laser rifle, which she’d had to leave behind on the ship, she’d start laying down cover fire, and I knew just the thing to help her do it.

Grabbing the heavy lid of one of the crates that lined the dock with my upper arms, I swung it into the air to use as a giant shield, covering our retreat just in time for the first burst of laser fire to scorch the metal.

Almost there, the first humans were being ushered into the airlock by Aggy and Abigail, while Ziame’s giant frame stood protectively in front of the two women.

Choosing a good spot, I decided to stand my ground and draw as much of the fire as I could.

I was a big target, my frame large to accommodate my four arms and all the muscles meant for climbing the giant trees of my homeworld.

My lower hands gripped when relaxed, instead of opening.

Nothing could pry that shield from my hands unless I made the conscious choice.

All I needed to do was buy my brothers some time.

As soon as those humans were safely aboard the Vagabond, we’d make a safe retreat.

Those stupid little guards had nothing on us once they got closer.

My hands were itching for a fight; taking care of those auction house bastards hadn’t been nearly enough.

Fierce and Hina had rescued two humans who had already been sold, and whoever had bought them had some serious manpower.

Now that I was facing the males chasing us, I could tell they wore green uniforms with a sash of gold across the chest. Several had those fancy gold-tasseled things dangling from their shoulders.

They had to be the ones in charge of a unit each, and I counted five of them.

Sunder dove through the crowd of soldiers from above, swiping several of them to the ground.

I was impressed by those wings and by seeing my trainer in action.

The male had skin as thick and strong as stone; he was being shot at but could brush off the laser fire like it was nothing.

We were shooting back, lighting into the advancing soldiers—first just with the intent of slowing them down, and then with excruciating precision. That had to be Camila.

I swore that once we’d safely made it onto the Vagabond, I’d take some more of those shooting lessons from the former Space Marine.

Even if I felt like a clumsy oaf with too many hands as soon as I held a gun.

When all other kinds of fighting came naturally to me, I hated feeling like a failure at that particular skill. I needed to work harder to fix that.

When the call came that the last human was safe, I threw the makeshift shield like a Frisbee, sending it bowling into our attackers with satisfying results.

I waded in with my fists, hitting them left and right, catching one male under my lower left arm in a stranglehold.

This was child’s play; these males were no challenge at all in close combat.