Page 375 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Jenny

Pacing in the small, glass-walled cell didn’t make me feel any less stressed, but it helped with the frenetic energy coursing through me.

They’d locked me in here hours ago, but I had seen neither hide nor hair of Akri.

There was an empty glass cell I could look into on my left and one on my right—identical to mine—kitted out with a freaking metal toilet and bare cot.

They had taken me from the computer room directly here, and not a single word was said.

Two guards had speed-walked me here, holding me roughly by the arms. I was pretty sure one of the two was the guy we’d locked up in the storage closet.

Not surprising that he carried a grudge and pinched a little harder than he should have.

The other one had no excuse, so I made sure to glare at him.

All Akri had said behind me was that if I were harmed in any way or taken from him, he’d refuse all cooperation.

That didn’t reassure me, but he sounded so certain and calm.

How could he be this calm when the slightest threat before had set him off into a fighting rage?

He had to know something that I didn’t, but it just proved to me that he was not losing control of himself; he could rein in those urges when he had other options.

I just didn’t know what those other options were, and not knowing was making me extremely anxious.

I wanted to know where he was and whether he was all right.

None of what he’d demanded of that lab-coat-wearing Ovt had included an assurance of his own well-being.

After what we’d shared—what we’d been through together—I couldn’t stand the thought of him getting hurt.

“Where are you?” I mumbled out loud, my eyes returning to the camera directed at my cell from the hallway.

I felt extremely exposed in here; with all that glass and white, there was nowhere to hide or take cover.

The idea of having to pee on that toilet when the camera was right there…

it made me sick to my stomach; it was humiliating.

As if they were taunting me with it, they’d propped my backpack against the wall right in front of my cell. I could see it, but I couldn’t get to any of it. If I at least had a blanket, I could huddle under it and find some measure of privacy.

The sound of footsteps echoed against the unvarnished white walls and the glass.

I got up and leaned against the front panel, trying to see who was approaching.

Was it Akri? Was that a bit of orange and yellow?

My heart leapt into my throat, excitement and worry filling me.

Yeah, it was. Akri was hanging limply between two guards in desert fatigues.

The two Ovt males struggled to drag his sizable bulk along.

I desperately searched his body for any sign of injury.

Why was he passed out? What had they done to him?

I knew we were the ones breaking into this place, but that was no excuse to torture someone.

Why were they doing this? And why had Akri even made such demands, as if he knew he had that kind of bargaining power?

I really hated not having all the facts right now.

They didn’t even look at me as they opened the cell to my left and tossed Akri down onto the cot inside.

He landed partially on it, face down, his legs dangling over the edge, toes on the ground.

To my horror, the back of his shirt had been cut apart, and I could see markings along his spine.

What had they done to him? I wasn’t sure if I was looking at blood, but those round markings definitely looked painful, as if he’d been jabbed with a needle repeatedly.

“You bastards! Why are you doing this?” I yelled, hitting the glass panel with my fists.

The guards both looked up, their gray skin shimmery from recent bathing, like the Ovt preferred.

One of them grinned a wide, toothless smile my way, black beady eyes blinking once before he turned away.

The other leaned in a little closer to the glass of my prison, smacking his fat lips together, his long gray tongue slipping out as it licked along the side of his face, wetting his eye.

I flinched back, disgusted, though I knew it was a normal thing for Ovt to do, considering they couldn’t cry like most other species could. It was extremely unpleasant to look at, and doing it so blatantly was considered rude. He was trying to offend me, the jerk.

But I got it: there was no point railing against them. They were just a pair of low-level goons; they weren’t the ones calling the shots. It felt good to glare at them and stick up my finger as they left. They didn’t know what that meant, but I sure did.

As soon as I was alone with Akri, I rushed to the wall separating us.

With my entire body pressed against the glass, I tried to see if he was still breathing.

“Akri, wake up! Talk to me, please!” I felt a wave of fear and anxiety crash over me—one that was far too familiar.

How often had I stood next to my mom’s hospital bed, feeling exactly like this, while she was losing her final battle with disease?

When the tip of a tentacle twitched and then lifted into the air, my whole body went limp with relief. I sank to the floor, resting my head against the glass as I watched that small bit of movement. “Please, you have to be all right.”

I hadn’t let anyone get close to me back on Earth after I’d officially become an orphan.

I lost my father at a young age, and then watched my mom lose her fight with ALS as a teen and young adult.

It had made me wary of risking my heart like that again.

I made friends easily—while on a hike, in a bar, or at a party.

I could chat with anyone, but really expose myself?

Really let anyone in? I hadn’t done that since my mom passed.

With Akri, it was different. He’d wormed his way into my heart in just a matter of days. I hadn’t even realized it, but it was true. I didn’t think I was in love yet—I hadn’t let myself fall that far—but care for him? Yeah, immensely. And not just because he was helping me.

A noise like air hissing reached my ears, and then Akri was suddenly rolling over on the cot. His dark eyes were even darker than usual, as if most of the dots of white had gone out. “Jenny,” he murmured, “I’m all right. I need approximately seven more minutes to recuperate.”

I made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob, pressing my fingers to my mouth to muffle it. He was all right; he sounded just like he always did. “Okay, you can have seven minutes.” He could have as many minutes as he wanted, as long as he was going to be okay.

With eyes like a hawk, I watched him the entire time he lay there.

I could see his chest move up and down as he drew in deep breaths.

His eyes were closed, and most of him was limp.

On his back, the other tentacle was facing me, and that one didn’t move like the other—it worried me all over again.

Had that lab coat–toting jerk done something to it?

“Systems are functioning within acceptable parameters,” Akri announced.

He pressed himself up with one hand, but it looked like a bit of a struggle to get vertical.

If he considered that acceptable, I worried he might never complain even if he was in pain.

I didn’t even think this was a macho display of toughness, either.

Akri was just a hard taskmaster when it came to what his body should and shouldn’t be able to do.

“Okay, please tell me what happened. What’s going on?

” We had to get out of here. I didn’t like the idea of having Akri go through more of the same while I sat here, twiddling my damn thumbs.

It would drive me crazy if I had to go through more of the same, especially now that I knew how badly they were treating him.

He chuckled, the sound a little raw and husky.

“I will tell you all you wish to know. Just let me deal with that camera for a moment.” He waved his hand at the camera pointed at our cells beyond the glass panel.

We couldn’t reach it—it was in the hallway—and there was nothing at hand to cover it up. That didn’t stop Akri.

On slightly unsteady legs, he walked to his cell door.

With one shoulder propped up against the panel to keep himself upright, he did something with his hands near the lock.

I held my breath as I watched. Was he able to open it?

Was it going to be as simple as walking out of here once he got our doors open?

I nearly shook with relief when the door slid open and he walked right out.

He paused beneath the camera, reaching up with the tentacle that had the nav port.

A little string of cable was already attached, and it wormed beneath the cover of the little black eye.

Akri’s body trembled, his hands braced against the wall, head tilted down to the floor.

This was hard work for him right now; he had to be injured in a way I couldn’t see—or maybe this was sheer exhaustion I was observing.

“Got it,” he murmured, the cable withdrawing.

His tentacle fell to his shoulder and draped over his back like a wet noodle.

He picked up my backpack, revealing that his own leather satchel had been tucked behind it.

With both in hand, he walked to my cell door, which opened with a simple wave of his palm over the access panel.

I rushed over, ready to get out and make an escape, but Akri swayed forward, and I could only just catch him around the middle, bracing myself against his weight.

“I appear to have exhausted my resources. I require some more rest.” It definitely appeared that way, but we couldn’t just go back into the cell to catch some shuteye; our chance to leave could disappear at any moment.