Page 37 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Luka didn’t know about Ziame’s distrust of this male and didn’t know that I didn’t trust this either.

Why was Geramor here and not Ziame? I couldn’t imagine he’d send anyone in his stead except maybe Sunder.

Far more likely, they’d think we were safe in here and wouldn’t come until the bridge was secure.

My suspicions were confirmed when Geramor rounded on Luka, his mouth closing down to normal proportions. “Take off my collar, Doc. Now!” he ordered, and his foot snapped out so quickly it blurred, spinning the pain controller Luka had been holding right out of his hand.

He was tugging the weapons off Uru’s belt the next moment and rounding on us, blaster raised.

“Hurry the fuck up!” he snarled, menace in his voice.

Luka stared at him for a moment, his black eyes wide open, and then he slid a look at me, as if asking for permission.

At my silent nod and rather helpless shrug, he moved to a cabinet and pulled out some tools.

Germamor was pacing back and forth, casting an anxious look at the door behind him, then rudely urging the doctor to hurry up.

My eyes darted to the pain controller he’d kicked away; it had landed in a corner, and I started to very slowly drift toward it, trying to make it look like I wasn’t really moving.

When Luka told Germamor to sit down in front of him so he could get at the collar, the shaggy blue male lifted the blaster and pressed it right up against the doctor’s chest. “No funny business, or I shoot your heart out.”

To my shock, the Doc’s mouth lifted into a smirk, and then he shifted his body. “Then you need to aim a little more to the right. Yeah, like that. My heart’s on the right side.” I nearly stifled a hysterical laugh at the angry, slightly baffled look the shaggy, blue-haired gladiator gave Luka.

Then my foot was on the controller, and I hesitated.

Wait any longer, and Luka would have the collar off, making the controller useless.

If I pressed that damn button now, would it cause him to blast a hole in Luka’s chest?

I couldn’t risk it—we couldn’t afford to be hurtling through space without a healer.

I think that the doctor was trying to move as slowly as possible when he opened up the collar, stalling for time.

But eventually, the thing dropped from Geramor’s throat, and the male was free.

He immediately raised the blaster and cold-cocked Luka in the face, causing the doctor to collapse on the floor with a strangled yelp. He didn’t get up.

“You are coming with me,” Geramor barked my way, then approached and grabbed me firmly by the arm, starting to haul me out the door.

I dug in my feet, slipping and sliding across the floor on my heels.

Sadly, though beautiful, they did not provide adequate traction.

With another firm yank, I stumbled out of the medical room with Geramor.

Changing tracks, I followed him, my heels clicking on the metal flooring. “Where are you taking me? We’re on a spaceship; there’s nowhere to run.” Unless there was actually something like a smaller ship docked or in a hangar bay or something. An escape pod? Didn’t ships have those in sci-fi movies?

The shaggy blue male didn’t deign to give me an answer, simply hurrying me along through several hallways, some lined with doors, some not. I was lost within seconds, but he seemed to know just where he was headed.

I tried again. “Seriously, where are we going? Why are you taking me?” But the guy stonewalled me completely until we at last reached some kind of hangar bay, where it looked like two smaller ships were indeed parked.

With a sinking feeling, I realized I was seriously about to be kidnapped a second time this week. If this asshole got me off this ship, I knew I was done for. I doubted that Ziame would be able to find me out in space. I had to stop this somehow.

“Why would you even take me? Ziame, also known as the Beast, is going to murder your ass. You get that, right?” I said, hoping to get some kind of response from him.

He was still holding onto me tightly with one hand and working on a panel beside a door in the side of the shuttle.

When it slid open, I dug in my heels again, fighting to keep him from dragging me aboard.

It was no use; Geramor was simply too strong, and he didn’t care about harming me either. With an angry snarl, he picked me up and hurled me into the ship. I rolled over the floor, slid a good three feet, and then slammed hard into some metal paneling.

I saw stars, my head throbbing from the impact and my body aching all over. The sound of my pain finally loosened his tongue, though; he laughed while he headed for the pilot’s seat at the front. One look at the door showed me it was closed.

“We are leaving. I am not sticking around with those uptight, morally righteous freaks. If I do, I’ll never get a decent meal.

” He swung his head around, maw gaping disturbingly my way.

As if it wasn’t clear he meant that I was a decent meal, he actually stuck out a black tongue and licked his lips.

Then he faced the front again and started his pre-flight check or whatever it was. Flicking buttons and lighting up panels, the engines vibrated to life. Damn it! Shit! Fuck! This was not going right. It was just my damn luck to instigate an uprising and then get taken by a flesh-eating monster.

“Of course, if you’re actually pregnant from that obnoxious idiot, you’ll make me a fortune.

Guess you’re in luck, and I won’t eat you just yet,” he muttered in an aside.

His attention was on the controls; I didn’t think he thought I was much of a threat.

He was right, of course. Even though I was tall for a human woman, I was on the small side next to this asshole.

Ziame had only a little in height on Geramor, though he had far more bulk.

“Geez, what a relief,” I said, trying to keep him distracted while I searched for a weapon.

“Get eaten now or sold into slavery later along with my child. Fun choices!” I pitched my voice bright and bubbly, as if I were talking about flavors of ice cream, and saw how Geramor looked over his shoulder at me in confusion. I guessed sarcasm was lost on this guy.

Everything in the shuttle appeared either bolted to the floor or tucked behind a panel. There was no handy fireman’s box with an ax tucked behind a glass pane. The ship started rumbling louder, and I could feel the floor vibrate beneath me. I was running out of time—I had to act now!

Slipping off my heels so I wouldn’t make noise when walking, I fingered the sharply pointed stiletto.

Was I really doing this? I eyed the hulking monster in the chair at the front.

What was his weak spot? Where did I even hit this guy?

It needed to be final. I couldn’t fight him, and injuring him would probably just enrage him enough to actually eat me.

I tiptoed to my feet and headed his way, keeping my heels low at my sides so he wouldn’t think anything of them if he saw me. I held my breath, terrified he’d lift off before I got to him, terrified he’d see me and I’d fail, and terrified I’d hit him, and it wouldn’t be enough.

I reached his chair quietly, black spots dancing in front of my eyes. Breathe, Abigail, breathe! You can do this. Then I raised my shoe, eyed his face, and aimed the pointed heel straight for his bat-like ears.

It sank in far too easily for my liking, as if there was no resistance at all—maybe that was my adrenaline. The blue-haired freak let out a hair-raising squeal and stumbled out of the pilot’s chair, turning on me with one clawed hand raised.

I ducked, stumbling backward to avoid that deadly swipe.

Oh no—it wasn’t a killing blow. I was so screwed!

I felt a searing pain across my chest as his claws raked me.

Losing my balance, I fell backward, and Geramor, with an angry growl, lunged at me.

His weight landed heavily on top of me, the air rushing out of my lungs, my head spinning from its second blow to the floor.

Panicked, I raised my fist and hit him, grazing the stiletto still dug into his ear. His entire body jerked on top of me. That hurt—he was so heavy I couldn’t breathe—but he wasn’t clawing at me, and he’d stopped growling. In fact, he might have stopped breathing too.