Page 365 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

I didn’t like how this was looking; they weren’t interested in me, their eyes were all on Akri.

When they started trading blows, it became even more obvious that they thought I was just window dressing: there, but not worth their time.

If this was about a bounty for what we were accused of at Drova’s bar, they would have at least tried to grab me, wouldn’t they?

Akri was a whirlwind as he fought; I could barely keep my eyes off him.

He moved like a graceful dancer, wearing an irreverent grin on his face.

Contrary to how he’d made it sound, he looked like he was having the time of his life.

Dodging blows, even those from the Tarkan’s massive wings, he returned more, even using his tentacles to do so.

The Ovt was sidling around, his spongy gray skin growing tight around his neck.

He was winding up to spew acid, and I couldn’t let him do that.

Akri had his back to him, one Asrai male clinging to him—trying to get him into a chokehold—while his tentacles pummeled the male mercilessly until he let go.

The Ovt’s already rounded belly expanded when he inhaled, and I knew I had to act now.

I had no weapon on me, so I improvised, slinging my backpack around by the strap and hitting him solidly in the back of his bulbous head.

He screeched as he tumbled forward, but it was the opening Akri needed to land some kind of agile kick to the Tarkan’s stony head, sending the male sprawling to the pavement.

“You bitch,” the Ovt snarled, which did not look nearly as impressive as it sounded, given the fact that his species had no teeth.

He righted himself and turned on me, and I had only a few seconds to think about how screwed I was.

Clutching the strap of my bag in my hands was not nearly enough of a deterrent.

We matched in height, and my senses were wide open, my body filled with a kind of battle-high.

I dodged and weaved as he tried to jab me with his shock stick.

I wasn’t sure what would happen if he zapped me with that, but I was pretty sure it would be extremely painful.

Despite knowing that, I felt alive; I didn’t even feel scared, which had to be a stupid quirk of my biology.

I caught the advancing Ovt in the knees with my bag, making him stumble a second time.

I whooped with excitement; maybe I had a chance against this smaller opponent.

We were more evenly matched, and Ovt skin tended to tear easily.

The buckles of my bag had left welts along his legs, and I hadn’t even hit him that hard.

Why was this dude even on this merc team?

He proved it the next moment, acid bubbling from his mouth and pitting the stones beneath my feet.

I barely managed to dance out of the way, but I lost my balance as I did so.

Everything seemed to speed up; I was starting to fall, and then I was in the Ovt’s arms, the shock stick jabbed beneath my chin but not quite touching.

“Surrender, you bastard, or your mate gets it,” the Ovt yelled, adding more quietly, “And believe me, she deserves it.”

Akri froze in place, our eyes meeting. I tried to show him I was sorry; I’d messed this up by trying to help.

He had the Asrai flanking him, the Tarkan still down at his feet but starting to rise.

The final opponent, the Xurtal male, stood right in front of him, the spiked bat he was wielding cocked back as if ready to hit Akri in the face.

Something rumbled, like the sound of a subway approaching from far away.

My skin prickled with awareness, and with this wholly unexpected fear response.

It was the kind of fear I’d experienced the one time I’d crossed paths in the woods with a mama grizzly bear and her two cubs—the fear that if I didn’t tread very carefully right now, I was going to die.

It wasn’t until the sound intensified and all the mercs and bounty hunters started uneasily looking around that I realized it was Akri who made that noise.

Whoa, my nerdy warrior had some mad intimidation skills.

Where had he been hiding that kind of terrifying growl?

My fear changed in a heartbeat, turning into a very inappropriate arousal instead.

I was definitely one broken chick to get turned on by this, simply because I knew it was him.

Akri’s eyes were no longer on me, but I could see the little dots of white in them shift and spark, turning orange, then red. He was staring down the Ovt holding me, and, though the salamander-like alien had the upper hand, I could feel him wilt behind me.

This felt like a Mexican standoff. We were assured of mutual destruction if anyone made a move.

Then that feeling shifted when Akri exploded into movement so fast that my eyes could barely track him.

Like a devastating tornado touching down, Akri moved through the males attacking us with the same destructive force.

I didn’t know how he did it, or why he’d been holding back if he could move this fast. I just knew that one moment I’d been in a serious pickle; the next, all our attackers were either dead or disabled.

I was left standing in the middle of it all, swaying on my feet while Akri threw the Ovt away from me so hard that he crunched as he hit the nearest wall.

Holy crap, that was… well, something else entirely—as if he’d unleashed this inner berserker when he saw that I was in danger.

My eyes greedily searched his body, wondering if he got hurt, admiring the way his broad shoulders filled his leather coat.

Maybe I wasn’t crazy for being turned on right now.

It was just a very primitive kind of feeling.

Akri had just shown, beyond any doubt, that he was the very best protector I could have.

That was sexy. Yeah, sticking with him was probably the best choice I could make right now, as long as he wanted me around.

“Akri?” I asked tentatively. He was standing with his back to me, chest moving like bellows as he pulled air into laboring lungs.

His two tentacles were writhing along his back, portraying an emotion I wanted to interpret as anguish, a kind of emotional despair.

What the hell? Why was he acting like that? He’d won, and I was fine.

At the sound of my voice, he jerked, tentacles twitching. Approaching slowly, I felt like I was trying to tame a skittish animal. He turned away, not allowing me to look at his face, his shoulders hunching the closer I got. “No. Stay away,” he husked out, his voice guttural, raw.

“What’s wrong, Akri?” I asked, not letting him push me away, determined to reach him when he was obviously hurting. He had saved me in more ways than one; I wanted to help him. I owed it to him.

“I’m not safe!” he yelled, the words ripping from his throat.

He finally twisted his neck just enough to glance at me over his shoulder, his eyes still wild and glowing, red and orange welling from deep inside those otherwise black orbs.

Not safe? I scoffed aloud at the statement.

No, I didn’t believe that for a single moment.

I stepped forward again, and he finally allowed me to get closer; I seized my opportunity. Slinging my arms around his middle, I hugged him tight. I inhaled his masculine scent, his heat, hoping he could draw comfort from me the way I could from him.