Finding Lara (Distant Worlds Book 3) (9 page)

The armed guards flooded
the bridge moments later, and he was still watching her warily as they
surrounded them.

Lara held her tongue
while Tolan Lark negotiated in ship standard.  He dropped a few names and that
seemed to calm the guards enough that they were suddenly looking around the
bridge with different eyes.  She was skimmed by many of the men, and then
dismissed quickly.  Apparently, she looked about as much of a threat as she
felt.

The one in charge of this
security detail was a big bruiser of a man.  His long braided black hair and
blue skin gave her a clue as to his planet of origin.  Brutan.  She was
surprised.  They had never even been approached by the Alliance because their
society was considered too primitive for space travel.  She was almost positive
that’s what he was.  How did he get here?  If the death games were scouting
unformed worlds for their fighters, her father needed to hear of it.  The rest
of the men looked like straight mercenaries, Gorson traders.  The only thing
she knew of them was that they were a nomadic tribe whose home had been
destroyed or abandoned long ago.  They had very few scruples and were little
better than pirates themselves, in the worst definition of the word.

The Brutan stood over
Tolan Lark’s not insubstantial height easily, and because he did, Lara got the
feeling he did not see the man as a threat, even armed to the teeth as he was. 
But even unconscious on the floor, Barnos was closer to that towering height
and massive build.  Him he looked over very carefully.

“He is still armed,” the
big man said, his gold eyes turning to Tolan Lark with a snide smile.  “I take
it he did not know he was headed for the games until quite recently?”

Tolan shrugged.  “He will
figure it out when he wakes up.”

The Brutan laughed, but
not like it was funny, and finally turned assessing eyes to the rest of the
ship.  “Tell me, flesh trader, what is to keep us from taking the entire ship,
instead of the one man?”

Tolan Lark smiled, and it
was a hard smile, making the man look him over more carefully.  Lara noticed
that his Shakien eyes were once again tucked out of sight.  Only true blue in
that dusky skinned face.  “I am not foolish enough to disable my passcode or my
failsafe before allowing strangers on my ship.”

“I take it that your
failsafe is explosive?”

“Let’s just say you will
need to find another line of work, once I blow a hole in your satellite wide
enough to kill everyone on board,” he shrugged, his eyes looking as solid as
the steel in his words.  “But then you will be dead, won’t you?  No employment
search needed.”

The Brutan laughed that
brutal laugh again, and then turned his eyes to one of the Gorson.  “Check it,”
he said shortly.  Then turned his eyes to Lara, who was doing her best to stand
utterly still in a house of calm she had built brick by brick in the last few
minutes.  He looked her up and down and then smiled with a certain heat that
she did not appreciate.  “Who is the girl?”

“Alternative cargo. She
has another destination.”

The Brutan sent Tolan
Lark a disgusted look. “Was that supposed to be informative?”

“Not particularly,” he
said back just as grim.  She heard the slight growl in his voice but when she
looked at him, he was still sporting the blue eyes that passed for human.  “She
is my business, and as you can see not for the death games in either fighter or
pleasure worker capacity.  She is too soft.  She would not survive either
position long enough to earn her beauty price.”

The Brutan snorted, but
seemed to agree as he looked her over once more and then dismissed her.  “A
shame she is not a little heartier of stock.  However, you are right.  She
would be broken in a week as a pleasure slave.”  Nevertheless, he watched her
just the same while his man reported in Gorson that the ship was indeed
passcoded and rigged to blow in spectacular fashion.  And no, they could not
break the code.  The Brutan snorted and then finally turned from her to look at
Tolan Lark again.  “You were sent here so you know what we pay for fodder for
the games.”  He kicked Barnos in the ribs almost lightly.  “This one is human
and will do for dying and little else.”

“I think there you are
mistaken,” Tolan said almost mildly.  “He is of hardy stock.  This is pirate Captain
Barnos formerly of
The Mercury
.  Even you must be familiar with his
reputation.”

The Brutan looked Barnos
over more carefully, and then motioned to one of his men.  “Disarm him.  Now!”

Lara blinked at the
sudden flurry of charged action.  Now the Brutan was not kicking the prone form
but looked like a python had suddenly appeared by his boot. 
Did Barnos
really have that kind of reputation?
  It made her wonder who she had been
kissing that these men feared him.

Then the Brutan turned to
her with eyes more assessing.  “You say she has another destination, but I am
aware of Barnos’ reputation.  No way a woman that beautiful is on this ship and
doesn’t belong to Barnos.”  He turned shrewd eyes to Tolan Lark.  “Let me
guess, she belongs to him and you want her for yourself.”  He did not let Tolan
answer, just shook his head.  “A sad tale that.  To betray a man for soft tail.”

“We were discussing price,
not the woman.  Let us return to the point shall we?”

The Brutan looked from
Tolan to her and then spoke looking at her for the answer.  “Which is it,
girl?  Did you belong to Barnos?”  He leered as he looked her over, and then
said something lewd and quite rude in Lara’s opinion in what she recognized as Hyperion
to the rest of his men, and she told him that in the same language, and watched
as they all just stopped talking, every eye turned her way.  She kept her
serenity with an effort.  She did not think her phrasing had been at all confrontational,
nor had her tone, but maybe they were just not used to women talking at all,
let alone in such an obscure language.

“Well now, that is
interesting,” the Brutan said with a gleam in his eyes, back to ship standard. 
“Not many people speak the Hyperion language, certainly not like that,” he
murmured.  “Why do you?”

“I am an interpreter,”
Lara said, doing her best not to look at Tolan Lark.  “I speak many languages.”

Lara sighed thinking back
to what had led her to the present time.  Once they had decided she was worth
something they wasted no time in negotiating with Tolan Lark.  Lara  would say
this for him, he tried to keep her, but short of blowing them all up together,
he had no choice.  So here she was, interpreter for the death games.  Deemed
too fragile for casual appetites; the powers that be figured she would earn her
money longer as a straight interpreter.  But it was the Brutan who
disillusioned her about the safety of her virtue.

“I want her for my years
of service,” he said bluntly, making Lara turn and look at him with wide eyes.

“Nonsense,” the Hyperion in
charge answered, waving him away dismissively.  “You have many pleasure slaves,
and look at her.  You would break her in one night.  I would be lucky to find
another interpreter with half her ability.  She can interpret for the exotics
who cannot learn fast enough, and save me much wear and tear on the merchandise. 
And I will have her make announcements in a few of our investors’ own languages
at the fights.  They will love it, and she will add a certain aplomb to these
games that it has lacked.  You have your pleasure slaves.  Use them.”

Probably, he would
,
Lara thought looking the massive brute over with trepidation. He did not argue
further, but from the lock of his jaw and the way his eyes cooled, she knew it
was not the end of her trouble from that direction.  His eyes said clearly that
he would have her.

Lara shivered at the
memory.  The Brutan had forbidden anyone else from touching her, but the
promise in his eyes had her pacing just as much as the thought of Barnos
fighting for his life.  If Tolan Lark did not get to them quickly, there wasn’t
going to be anything to rescue.

Barnos was about to begin
his first death match and he did not look exactly thrilled at the prospect.  He
didn’t look scared either, Lara thought, watching him saunter behind the bars,
rather than the crazed pacing of his opponent.  He looked almost bored waiting
for his box jail to open and the fight to begin.  On the other side of the
massive arena was his opponent.  He might not be scared facing the eight armed
insect-like Hortiem, but she was scared enough for the both of them.  Stretched
a full eight feet with arms that resembled more dangling claws than hands, his
people were known for their quick movements, bizarre eating habits, and
poisonous bite.  Not deadly poison like some of the other races could have, but
a type of poison that subdued and, in most cases, knocked out the receiver of
that bite.  If Barnos let him get a bite in, he could eat him at his leisure,
and considering she could see the brown tone of the Hortiem’s skin signifying near
starvation, that was exactly what would happen when he smelled fresh prey. 
Barnos was a big strapping man, not the usual food of the Hortiem. They liked
small furry prey, but if he could knock him out with a single bite, he would
still feed.  They were an obscure race, which is what the death games seemed to
specialize in finding.  Lara really hoped Barnos recognized the race, and the
danger.

“Welcome our guest and
announce the fight,” the Hyperion Frot said behind her from his throne-like
seat over them all. “I am looking forward to seeing what our newest fighter has
in store for us.”  He turned to look at the Brutan. “What say you, Forge? Will he
live up to his legend, or die like so many before him?”   Lara turned to see
him wave a negligent hand her way as he continued his conversation.  She still
held the com unit with the script he wanted her to announce at each fight.

“He will die quickly,’
Forge answered mildly enough, but she could feel the satisfaction rising off
his skin as he contemplated the pirate’s death.  She felt his eyes stray to her
back like a heat lamp shining on her.

“Care to wager?” Frot was
average for his species, with the small horns she had almost missed in his long
hair at their first meeting.  But she had seen the green hair and slightly
paler skin, his small stature and sharp teeth.  She had known what to look
for.  Now he was practically bloated on the excitement for the coming fight.

Forge spoke smoothly, his
attention finally turning away from her so that she sighed with the relief of
it.  “I would never dare bet against you, sire.”  The words were said without
inflection, but feeling what Forge was hiding, Lara guessed betting against his
boss would be both futile and dangerous to his health.  Looking at the gleam in
Frot’s eyes, Lara understood the sentiment.  The larceny in his mind was a sly
thing.  She would never bet against him either.  The Hyperion would cheat, nor
would he be a good loser.  Lara turned away from her study of her new ‘master’
and took a deep breath, doing her best to ignore the impatient and often times
lewd crowd that yelled and bustled around their clear protected box.  They were
back in the skybox and the last fight of the evening. Frot was practically
rubbing his hands in glee.  Apparently, Barnos was well known enough for this
to be a big deal.  She swallowed the dread in her stomach that had been there
since Tolan Lark had stunned Barnos unconscious and turned those inhuman eyes
her way.  She did what she had been doing since it happened.  She focused on
the moment.

Lara announced the fight
first in the languages of the most sought after sponsors that Frot had given
her.  She started ship standard for the rest of the crowds in the same way,
then went off on a tangent hoping that Frot would think she was being sensational
rather than informative.

“Greetings and welcome to
the death games,” she said in her most serene voice.  All eyes turned to her
when her voice started floating over them.  Whistles and more lewd suggestions
followed the sight of her in a nearly identical dress as she had worn the first
day.  This one was flashing violet.  She ignored them all.  “The last fight of
the day will bring exotic delights.  Something never before seen in this
arena.  We have the notorious pirate Captain Barnos against a rare Hortiem.  She
kept her tone serene, not modulating her voice or movements in any way, while
she added one line to her recitation.  “Few know that the Hortiem is faster
than most any other species found in the universe; in his native habitat he
uses his poisonous bite to knock his unsuspecting prey instantly unconscious .
. .” she paused here and lowered her voice for effect.  “So that he can feed on
live flesh at his leisure.”  The crowd went wild at the gruesome image she
painted, loving it.  She finished with the normal script.  “Let us see if the
pirate scourge of the universe is up to the challenge of the death games.”

Then she turned without
looking toward Barnos with an effort and took her seat to the left and slightly
behind Frot.  She could feel both his eyes and the ever-present eyes of the
Brutan that stood at her back like a massive shadow.  Frot chuckled in that
lispy voice of his.  “Nicely done,” he said in an aside to her in his own
native language.  Then his voice became more warning.  “The crowd ate it up,
but I do not suggest you add anything in the future without passing it by me
first.”

“Of course,” she said
smoothly.  “I should have thought.”  She felt his eyes on her and then he was
distracted by the gates going up on the fighter boxes. Lara almost breathed
again, except Forge had leaned down behind her; she felt him coming until his
mouth was at her ear, his breath on her neck, and he spoke softly, with a bite
to it.

“You seek to make a fool
of us, little interpreter?” he asked hotly and she stiffened with a rush of
fear.  “He dies either way.”  He breathed her in where her shoulder met her
neck and then ran his nose back up to her ear.  “You would be wiser to forget
old friends and make new ones.”  Then he returned to his place and Lara
released her held breath with a shiver, fighting not to turn and look at him. 
Then the fight started in earnest and she forgot about her own danger.  She
forgot about everything but Barnos in the ring beneath her.

***

Barnos cracked his
knuckles and looked at the bug across from him.  He was big, fast, and thanks
to Lara, he knew he was poisonous, not to mention carnivorous.  He tried not to
look up at the stands and check on her again, but his eyes seemed drawn to the
beauty in purple despite himself, and he was looking her way when the big brute
behind her stepped closer to her and turned hot eyes to the back of her head. 
What Barnos didn’t like was the way the man lingered over her, his eyes, and
with his implants, he could see the hot possession in that big bastard’s face
even from this distance. 
Shite. 
Barnos cursed under his breath.  He
felt his eyes go hard as he looked the man over, memorizing everything about
him and the rest of the guards he could see surrounding Lara.  The brute was
leaning down even as the gates surrounding him were fully raised and he was
open to the arena.  He was turning to the fight when the brute said something
in her ear she did not like.  Barnos saw the way she froze, and the way the man
hovered over her, nearly touching her.  Then he turned and met Barnos’ eyes and
the mother-fucking bastard smiled.  Barnos was forced to turn to his own
approaching battle with his jaw locked in rage.  What would be happening to the
lady while he was trapped in the slave quarters?  The big blue bastard was
going to die, and anyone else who touched her.  And Tolan Lark was fucking road
kill when he got them out of here.

The Hortiem was fast. 
Too fast, he had two claw slashes across his chest and right arm before he
could duck out of the way.  Seemed right unfair that the death games were hand-to-hand
and some of the races had fucking built-in weapons.  As a mostly human descendant,
he did not.  And the fucking thing seemed desperate to take a bite out of him. 
Frantic with hunger.  Barnos twirled away from another claw rake and wished he
had a blaster or a sword.

He managed to dodge the
next strike, but the one after that hit too close to his groin for comfort.  He
thought,
Bollocks to this shite.
  He charged the almost nine-foot thin
bug creature.  He tackled him to the bloodied sand of the arena and shoved an
arm in his throat to keep his teeth off him.  Then, once pinned down, he
commenced bludgeoning that weirdly elongated head that felt a bit like a brick
wall with black eyes.  With his cybernetic fist, he hit as hard and as fast as
he could.

When Barnos finally stood
up, his fist was a bloody mess of bug brains and blood, and the face of the bug
creature looked like a mass of stew.  He ignored the sudden quiet of the crowd
the same way he had ignored the roaring a minute before.  The fight had lasted
less than five minutes; everyone seemed to be a little shocked at that.  He
ignored them all and looked up at the box again, where Lara was bending as far
forward in her chair as she could, her eyes relieved and on him.  But it was
the man behind her that Barnos looked at.  The blue-haired brute was no longer
smiling, but looking at him with cold intent.  Barnos gave him his own smile. 
Bring
it the fuck on.

Something about that
challenging smile freed the crowd from their shock.  They went wild.

***

Barnos had better
quarters, at least, and a meal apparently.  He had been brought to his new
cell, and a doctor called as soon as the fight was over.  The doctor was busy
elsewhere but the high protein meal was welcome, as was the brew that
accompanied it.  He was offered a woman, but he would be damned if he took some
unfortunate slave whore when she had no say in the taking.  He waved that off
and ate the meal.  He was hungry but with a shower at his disposal, he had to
get the stench of death and blood off him before he ate anything.  He was clean
and leaning his head against the wall as the water beat down his back when the
door opened again.  Even through the wavering walls of the shower stall and the
half open door, he recognized the purple, and the Lady wearing it.  He was out
of the stall and grabbing his towel to wrap around his hips before he even
noticed she was not alone.  The big blue guard towered over her, too close, too
possessive.  Barnos looked Lara over first, more than a little relieved that
she was as clear-eyed and unharmed as the last time he saw her.  Then he turned
his eyes to the man behind her.

“The doctor is busy,” the
blue guard said in a low cold voice.  “The girl will see to your wounds.”

Barnos raised a brow at
that.  He tamped down his suspicion and smiled.  “Well, now,” he said instead,
his voice booming good cheer, “that’s right neighborly of you.”

The man was around his
height and had a nearly identical build. Between them, even the tall Lara
looked downright tiny.  “Yes,” he said, “it is.”

When no one made any
further moves, Barnos raised a brow.  “Feel free to leave us to it then.”  He
shooed the man away insultingly.

The man narrowed his eyes
but laughed, as if something was funny, when it was clearly not.  He shook his
head, his sharp teeth showing in a predatory smile.  “She is not here for your
pleasure, pirate.”  Then the brute ran a big hand down Lara’s dark braid, and
watching the flash of fear in her eyes as she stood completely still, Barnos
had to fight everything he had not to charge the man and do to him what he had
already done in the arena.  Smash his fist into his face until it crumbled.  “She
is here to bandage you.”  Then he practically purred the rest.  “Her pleasure
is mine alone to taste.”

Lara stepped away from
that hand and those words like it was less than wind and moved to Barnos.  She
looked him in the eye, giving him nothing but a serene face and pushed lightly
at the hand holding the towel to get a better view.  Barnos felt the soft brush
of her hands just above his hip slashes and reacted despite himself, and the
audience.  Then Lara turned back to the barbarian when he growled.

“If you want me to
bandage him, I’m going to need some medical supplies,” she said calmly into
that dark blue gaze.  There was the slightest bite of challenge to the words. 
Barnos looked from Lara to the other man with surprise and glee growing on his
face.  Whatever the man had done to her, she was certainly not broken yet.

The man looked like he
wanted nothing more than to rip her away from the pirate, but something else
went through his mind and he gave them one more assessing look before heading
for the door.  When he did not just call out to the guards for supplies, but
actually left the room Barnos was floored.

“What the bloody hell is
going on?” he asked Lara.

“With Forge?” she shook
her head, seeming to finally take a breath and look like her usual animated
self as soon as they were alone in the room.  “I have no idea.  Except that he
wants me and his boss said he would break me so he can’t have me.”  She waved
that away as if it were nothing.  “He brought me here for a reason so they’re
probably listening somehow.”  She moved her eyes back to the wound.  “Oh,
Barnos.  You’re a mess.  Couldn’t you have moved a little faster out there?”

He laughed at the return of
her animation.  “You should see the other guy,” he mocked.

She shuddered, scrunching
her nose adorably.  “I saw the other guy.  Once was enough.”