Dark Solstice (16 page)

It was fear, he realized, as much as anything else that had prompted him to lay himself wide open for complete rejection. As crazy as he was about her, he sure as hell wasn’t blind to the way she felt about Raathe. He thought, hoped, at least, that it was her dependence on Raathe for survival more than a real emotional attachment, but he was afraid he might be wrong.

Beyond that, he knew if they managed to make it out alive the chances were good that she was going to be snatched right out from under him. He’d felt a desperation to stake his claim before that could happen, to get a promise from her that she’d consider it.

Ignoring his stiff anger, Rhea moved closer after a few moments, settling her cheek on his chest and tracing a path over his chest with one finger in a way that drove him crazy. He caught her hand, lifting it to study the small member, uncurling her fingers and bringing her palm to his lips. She was right, he thought wryly. He knew everything about her and she didn’t know anything about him. It had been completely stupid to think she could possibly feel the things he did.

She
did
feel at least some of it, though, the same powerful chemical attraction that he felt that made coming together like nothing else in the world. He might be blind with lust the moment he came near her, but he wasn’t so blind he didn’t feel her response.

That had to mean something, didn’t it?

She sighed, her warm breath tickling the hair along his chest. “If we make it out of here alive … if you still feel the same when we’re not in such desperate straits that we don’t know if we’ll even see tomorrow … ask me again.”

He swallowed the anger that flickered through him with an effort, knowing she didn’t actually mean it. She was only trying to placate him. Maybe she just didn’t believe he felt what he did. Maybe she was even right, it was the situation, but he didn’t think so. It wasn’t exactly a new situation for him. He could barely remember a time when his life hadn’t been on the line and he’d sure as hell run into plenty of women along the way, been with more than his fair share—enough to his own mind that he didn’t doubt what he felt was solid and real.

He rolled over to study her face on that thought, realizing finally that part of his anger was the fact that he’d come up against the one woman that wasn’t going to be easy for him. If he wanted her, he was going to work for it.

And he did want her.

Chapter Fourteen

The guard grinned at him as he flipped the small disk at Kyle through the bars. “You’re up, Justice.”

He slid a glance at Rhea and his grin broadened. “Raathe ain’t too pleased about you plowing his munch. I’m thinking we’re gonna get a hell of a show. But don’t worry about it too much. We softened him up a little bit for you.”

Kyle’s hand fisted around the disk as he caught it, rage slowly working its way up through him to replace the stunned surprise he’d felt when the guard tossed the token at him. He swore under his breath as the guard moved down the corridor and finally disappeared.

“What is it?” Rhea asked, her voice breathless with fear.

Kyle turned to look at her, though his mind was elsewhere. “We’re fucked,” he growled. “Totally fucked.”

Rhea’s chin wobbled with the fear trying to claw its way out of her. Frightened tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill over. “I don’t understand,” she whispered, terribly afraid that she did, hoping he’d tell her she was wrong.

Kyle whirled on his heel and threw the disk as hard as he could against the back wall of his cell. “Damn it to hell! Everything’s fucking falling apart at the seams!”

He began pacing, trying to think, peripherally aware that he was scaring Rhea but in too much turmoil himself to try to hide it.

It was bad enough Raathe had landed in solitaire. That had already put a severe crimp in their plans when they had no idea when they’d let him out again, but the arena—
Christ
! How were they going to get around that?

“What did he mean ‘they softened him up’?” Rhea demanded, intercepting him.

Kyle stared down at her worried face, feeling his anger skyrocket. “What do you think the son-of-a-bitch meant?” he growled.

She took a step back at the vehemence in his voice and he felt a prick of discomfort. “They’ve beat him,” she said finally.

The hopefulness in her voice that he’d tell her she was wrong only made him angry all over again. “That would be my guess,” he said tightly.

“They’re going to make him fight in the arena again.”

He glared at her. “Against me. Tell me, Rhea, which one of us do you want to see carried out in a body bag? Me? Or Raathe?”

She stared at him horror. “Neither of you!” she gasped after a moment of stunned disbelief.

“Took you a minute to think about, though, huh?” he snarled angrily. “Why am I not convinced?”

“Because you’re an asshole?” she snapped angrily.

Her furious retort pierced his own anger. “I’m an asshole because it crossed my mind that you might not a give a fuck which one of us makes it out alive? Or that, just maybe, you’d prefer that it was Raathe?”

She clenched her hands into fists, but whirled away from him.

He followed her, angry enough he was spoiling for a fight. “Which one, damn it?” he demanded, catching her arm and whirling her around to face him.

She glared at him for a moment and finally surged toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist and clinging tightly to him. “Don’t say that! Don’t think it!”

Kyle stared down at the top of her head, feeling his anger dissipate. After a long moment, he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly, a little desperately. “Tell me I matter to you,” he growled huskily. “Lie. I don’t care. I’ll believe you.”

She uttered a sob that shook her all over. “Don’t talk like that! Please! How could you care about me and believe such things about me?”

Because he was afraid she didn’t feel the same way? It still pricked him with guilt that he’d distressed her. Easing his hold on her, he caressed her soothingly. “I don’t believe it,” he muttered, realizing as soon as he said it that he didn’t. It had just been his own insecurity talking. Even if she didn’t love him, he knew she wouldn’t want to see either one of them hurt.

Especially not Raathe, said the voice of jealousy in his head.

“I’ll think of something.”

She pulled away to look up at him hopefully. “There has to be something we could do, some way around this,” she agreed.

He grimaced, releasing her. “I’m open to suggestion, but we don’t have a lot of time to figure anything out. They’re rounding up the other contestants now. They’ll be back for us.”

Rhea paled. “They’re taking me out there as the prize again, aren’t they?”

He stared at her uncomfortably. “Maybe.”

She shook her head. “You know that was what he meant. I was just too … upset by the rest of it to realize they’d be taking me out, too.”

She moved to the bunk and plopped down on it weakly. “We don’t have time to try anything before they take us, do we?”

“I’d guess that would be a no,” Kyle said shortly.

“Then we’ll have to escape from the arena.”

He stared at her a moment and began pacing again, trying to think. “Unless one of us can fake dead pretty fucking convincingly, then yes. Afterwards will be a little late.”

Rhea chewed her lip, trying to ignore her fear and think. “The transport should still be there, right?”

Kyle stopped pacing and stared at her. “My guess is the games are at least partly to entertain the crew, possibly also to break in the new inmates they’ve brought. Maybe. It might just be something that bastard thought up to get rid of Raathe.”

Rhea’s eyes widened. “Why would he do that?”

Kyle studied her for a long moment and finally shook his head. “Just thinking out loud. It could be an advantage if we can make use of it,” he said musingly.

Rhea didn’t believe it had been a random thought at all. He’d said it as if he knew … something, knew of some reason the warden might have to single Raathe out. She allowed him to divert her, though, certain she wouldn’t pry any more out of him. “What would be an advantage?”

“The games,” Kyle said absently. “If everyone’s there, there shouldn’t be more than one or two guards to contend with once we reach the ship—maybe none. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since I’ve been here it’s that the warden is a cocky son-of-a-bitch, thinks he has everything completely under his control.”

“We’d have to get out of the blast doors, though,” Rhea pointed out. “Do they lock them when they’ve brought everyone through? Or is he cocky enough he doesn’t worry about that?”

Kyle sent her a dry look. “I said he was cocky, not stupid. The doors are locked. You don’t honestly think any of those men would be willing to fight to the death if they had an option?”

Rhea stared at him, realizing he’d distanced himself from the others, as if he wasn’t one of them. She wondered if he realized it, or if it had just been a slip of the tongue. “Then someone will have to get the doors open from the outside. Didn’t you say there were five going? Maybe one of the others …?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. If I could get word to Grimes,
maybe
he could carry it off.” He considered that for a moment. “Actually,” he added slowly, “they don’t lock the spectators in. The problem is, he’d have to get through two check points that would be locked, the corridor that connects to the one they carry the gladiators down and the blast doors. That’s a big maybe.”

Rhea swallowed a little sickly. “What other options do we have?”

Kyle lifted his head instead of answering, listening intently for a moment. “None. They’re coming for us.”

* * * *

Between the beatings and the one meal a day he’d been allowed since they’d shoved him into solitary confinement, Raathe knew he was in trouble when he saw the grinning face of the guard at the door.

“Show time, Raathe,” he announced cheerfully, pulling the door wide for two other guards to enter.

Raathe eyed the guards approaching him with the manacles, but he didn’t make any attempt to rise, conserving the energy he had, because he knew they were taking him to the arena. Anger welled inside of him, warring with the sense of doom that descended as he mentally assessed his condition and realized he didn’t have a chance in hell of winning any contests today.

Pain shot through his chest as the guards hauled him to his feet and clamped the manacles around his wrists. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind, this time, that he had at least one cracked rib. The fucking bastards had tased him and then kicked the shit out of him while he was writhing around on the floor, unable to even ward off the blows let alone to defend himself. One of them had managed to connect with his ribcage, despite the fact that he’d curled as tightly into a ball as he could to try to protect that area.

He’d tried not to think about Rhea. Doing so only made the confinement and his sense of despair worse, but her image filled his mind forcefully as the guards hauled him from his cell and down the corridor. In the back of his mind, he realized he’d nursed the hope that he would have one more chance to see her, that he could tell her how sorry he was that he’d failed to protect her.

He realized now that that wasn’t going to happen, that he hadn’t just failed to protect her from Coulter, he’d failed her altogether. She was trapped here, at the mercy of men that gave animals a bad name, and he wasn’t going to be around to keep them off of her.

The thought sent a surge of strengthening anger through him. Assuming she was still alive, and he didn’t know that she was, he owed it to her to at least try, not whine and give up just because he knew he was weak from the little bit of food he’d had and slow because of his injuries. He was head and shoulders above the rest of the prison lowlifes, a better fighter than any of the fucking bastards in Phobos when he was at his best. He could hold his own now if he just didn’t let his doubts take hold.

It wasn’t his doubts that shook him, though, when his escort finally brought him up with the other men slated to fight in the arena. He spotted Rhea almost instantly and a shot of reviving adrenaline rushed through him.

Ignoring the men, although he’d fully intended to assess the competition while he had the opportunity and recall whatever weak points he could, he straightened a little taller and examined her hungrily with his gaze. Her face was still bruised, but the swelling had gone down. She looked pale, but he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or if she was still weak from the attack.

She was still wearing the ragged remains of the suit she’d been wearing before, trying to hold the pieces together to cover herself from the men leering at her.

As if she felt his gaze, though, she lifted her head and looked straight at him. He could see the jolt of shock that went through her and wondered if he looked as fucking bad as he felt.

Tears filled her eyes. He could see the gleam of them despite the distance that separated them. It disconcerted him, sent his thoughts into chaos. Reproach, he wondered?

And why wouldn’t it be, he thought derisively? She still bore the marks of the battering she’d taken because he’d abandoned her.

She looked away again after a moment and he felt his spirits plummet as the certainty filled him that he was right. He struggled against it, trying to summon the anger again. It didn’t matter what she thought, he told himself. He had to do his best to protect her even if she hated him now.

He didn’t look at her again. Instead, he focused on trying to identify the men in the line ahead of him—which was when he spotted Justice.

Fuck! They were screwed if Justice bit it today. He’d counted on the son-of-a-bitch to take care of her!

Struggling with the fear that chilled him at that thought, he scanned the other men.

There sure as hell weren’t any likely candidates among them that he’d trust with Rhea! And it was tough bunch a bastards. The fucking warden had really outdone himself with this selection! He would’ve had trouble on a good day.

The blast doors opened, redirecting his thoughts as the corridor filled with the jeering shouts of the prisoners that were to get the chance to watch them kill one another today. Stealing himself, Raathe shuffled forward. He’d told himself he wouldn’t risk looking at Rhea again, that it would undermine him when he couldn’t afford it, but he couldn’t resist. When he came even with her, he looked.