Page 336 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Meena

I woke up with a pounding headache and a desperate need to open my eyes and figure out where I was.

It was hard, but I managed to keep them shut and my breathing even, though I wanted to panic and hyperventilate.

Someone had kidnapped me, again. I’d felt many hands on my body as I was dragged away, but I couldn’t remember many details, my brain foggy from whatever it was they’d drugged me with.

Using my eyes instead of my ears, I tried to figure out as much as I could before I gave away the fact that I was awake.

I could hear voices—male, from the sound of it—at least two different ones.

At first, my head hurt too much to properly make sense of what they were saying, but then the words resolved into clarity.

“Are we sure we got the right one?” one guy asked.

He sounded a little younger, and he definitely wasn’t the one in charge.

I could tell he was to my left, and I heard a crackling noise that I thought might be a fire.

If I paid attention, it did feel like there was more warmth coming from that side.

“Of course we did. They said the black-haired female. This is the black-haired one. Isn’t it?

” a second voice said, far more gruffly.

I could imagine that he was waving his hands around as he talked, pointing my way.

I couldn’t see it, but my skin prickled with awareness.

At least now I knew it wasn’t Jakar who’d taken me.

I would have recognized his voice, even though I had only heard it a few times.

I felt a little ashamed for even thinking that it could be him, just because I’d felt more than one pair of hands.

Jakar might be a flirt, but he wouldn’t do that.

I had a sinking feeling I knew who they’d really come here for, and it wasn’t me.

Katja had black hair, and she was far prettier than I.

I’d learned that, like me, they had sold her and her brother from the auction house.

In their case, their buyer had been filthy rich, and he’d locked them up in his private apartments, letting them dine on his good food.

Katja hadn’t been touched by the time Fierce and his animal had broken in to rescue them.

Their buyer hadn’t been there during the rescue, so he was still alive, unlike mine.

It was far more likely that Katja’s owner was the one who wanted her back.

He was not only alive to wish for it but he also had the funds to pay for bounty hunters to make an attempt.

Clearly, this inept pair of goons had mistaken me for her, figures.

I was without my knife or any of my other things, and with a pang of sadness, I imagined them lying on the cobblestones back in Rakex City.

Would anyone have noticed that I was missing by now?

Would they have gone back to collect my things, or would they have been stolen, snatched up by someone else?

The plant was probably a write-off. The pot had broken into pieces—sad—but it was the thought of someone else wearing my handcrafted jewelry that pissed me off.

Jakar had made those, or at least I thought he had.

I didn’t care if they hadn’t been made especially for me.

It was something precious, my only frivolous item, and now it was gone.

God, I was such a mess of contradictions.

Why was I so hung up on some silly beads? It made no sense at all.

Opening my eyelashes a tiny bit, I tried to make sense of what little I could see.

I definitely saw the flickering of a campfire and two big silhouettes.

One of them—the older one—spoke, “Dar’kol will meet us tomorrow with the bikes.

Let’s just get some rest. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us if we want to make it to Exka. ”

I had no idea what any of that meant, but because the darkness was only just being kept at bay by the fire, I thought it meant I had an entire night to try to escape.

I wriggled my hands experimentally, but they were tied behind my back with some kind of thin wire.

It hurt, and I was scared that the scent of blood would attract predators if I caused myself to bleed.

I’d read the pamphlet about Rakex, or rather, I’d listened to Abby’s rundown about the pros and cons of staying on this planet.

There were large predators in the woods; that was the main takeaway.

The city was safe; the woods were not. It hadn’t deterred any of the humans from wishing to settle down here; it seemed they were all extremely eager to feel land beneath their feet again. I didn’t really understand that desire.

At some point, one of the men near the fire got up, and I spotted spiraling antelope horns jutting proudly from his forehead.

The crackle effect of his skin was black with fine, pale blue lines that matched the pale blue of his eyes as he scanned my form.

“She’s still asleep. Are you sure we didn’t give her too high a dose? We won’t get paid if she’s dead.”

It was the younger one of the two again.

He didn’t seem the confident sort, but when he squatted down near my head, I could see odd little notches carved into his horns.

They were visible against the light from the campfire, even through my eyelashes.

I was pretty sure he was of the alien species native to this planet—the Kert-somethings—but I didn’t know what the weird notches in his horns meant.

It was unnerving as hell to have this guy hovering over me, looking at me while I pretended to be completely vulnerable.

Was he going to touch me, shake me awake, hurt me?

My stomach was completely empty, and my mouth parched from thirst, but I still didn’t want him to offer me any kind of sustenance.

I wouldn’t touch anything they offered. They might very well try to drug me again, and I couldn’t have that if I wanted to try to escape.

“Stop staring, we don’t get paid if we mess her up,” the other one said sharply, and finally, the guy turned his back on me.

They argued about who was going to stand guard while I tried to figure out where they were keeping their weapons.

If I could cut off my restraints, I could make a run for it.

My legs weren’t tied, but I would be helpless in these woods if I ran without my hands free; I had to find a way to cut the wire.

I opened my eyes a little wider when I hadn’t heard any noise for a while.

One man was rolled up in a blanket near the fire, boot-clad feet sticking out from beneath the fabric at one end, and a pair of spiral horns at the other.

The younger, blue-tinted male was sitting on a wooden log across the fire from me—supposedly keeping guard—but he was immersed in a tablet he was holding, not paying attention at all.

A little more daring, I scanned the campsite in the hopes of finding something I could use.

I saw two bags piled against each other nearby.

One had the flap open, and I could see the promising shape of a flask of water.

If I could, I’d have to snatch that up before I ran; I was pretty sure getting my hands on safe drinking water was the most essential part of surviving in the wild.

That was also where my knowledge ran out, so I didn’t know what else to do.

I just had to hope for the best; I certainly wasn’t going to expect a rescue.

I was starting to think I was out of luck, and these guys weren’t stupid enough to leave something with a sharp edge out in the open.

Then my eyes caught a tiny glint of something shimmering as it reflected the fire.

Underneath the strap of one of the bags, was that the edge of a blade?

I felt a brief surge of hope at the sight. Yes, it might be! I could do this.

To reach the knife, I had to shimmy and crawl across the mossy forest floor without drawing the attention of the guard.

I didn’t think I had to worry about the other guy; he was softly snoring, so I could safely assume he was asleep.

I couldn’t imagine being able to sleep out here in these woods, with bugs and other creepy crawlies.

I was trying hard not to imagine what I might be lying on—or worse, what could be crawling on me right now.

Eyes focused on the one guy who was awake, I inched myself across the moss, freezing in place each time he so much as moved his pinkie finger.

It was taking forever simply to move a couple of feet, and though it was hardly like I was running a marathon, sweat was trickling down my back.

Almost there, I just needed to roll over carefully so my tied hands were closest to where that blade was.

With them tied behind my back and unable to see what I was doing, I rolled over—and could no longer see the guy who was supposed to be standing guard.

Wiggling my fingers beneath the edge of the bag, I felt the touch of something slick and cool, the blade.

Yes, got it! I had to struggle to keep my breathing quiet as I pulled on that edge, wincing when it nicked my finger.

Then, I was pressing the tight wire on my wrists against the edge, fumbling to get the leverage I needed to cut it.

Almost there, almost! I felt the bonds loosen around my wrists, my fingers tingling from the increased blood flow.

Then, I was roughly yanked up by the arm, a furious voice yelling at me.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I was spun around and tossed like a sack of potatoes, landing painfully on my butt and hands.

The guard was standing over me, his figure a towering shape with arching horns and glowing blue eyes.

He was snarling, displaying sharp canine teeth, while a tail with a sharpened blade at the tip swung around threateningly, pointing it at my prone form.

“You bitch thought you could escape, did you? Not on my watch.”