Gladiator (12 page)

“Had enough, lover boy?”

“When I get out of here, if I find she is harmed in any way, I will do unto your family what you and yours have done to the world.”

“Hmmm, you’ve got spunk, I’ll give you that. I should have married you while I had the chance.”

“I am not yours. I was never yours. I will never be yours.”

Veronica was livid. Her countenance went dark and her eyes a deep green and she screamed incoherently with rage, sending the highest level of electricity throughout Tristan’s body. The pain was so intense he couldn’t think. He was starting to black out when he saw Alexandra, as clearly as though she was standing before him, whispering and chanting—and he understood every word.

I am here. I will always be here. Feel my touch even though we are apart. Let go, and I will be waiting.

He moved his mouth as if to speak and Veronica turned the current off. “Decided to ask for forgiveness, have we?”

Alexandra began to fade. Tristan’s head fell back and as he lost consciousness he whispered, “Come to me…come to me…come to me…”

Her spirit supported him and her aura surrounded him, and there was no more pain. He was oblivious to anything but staying put and letting Alex lead him to freedom.

* * * *

He came to, but he was still in a daze. He knew he was lying on hard concrete… and he felt something dripping on his face. As he focused upward, he saw Alexandra suspended above the ground, being held to the wall by manacles. Her nose was bleeding, and her face was bruised and cut. When she moaned, he tried to sit up but his muscles were knotted up from the surges of electricity.

“Alex.” He gasped, forcing himself to his feet with a mighty effort as she moaned in pain again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her body to alleviate the strain on her arms.

She wept softly as her hair fell over his shoulders. Had they broken her? Couldn’t she break free of her restraints?

She gasped, and he couldn’t hold her up any longer. He lowered her and looked around the cell for anything to help her. In the corner there was a pail, probably to be used for waste. He turned it upside down and placed it beneath Alex’s feet.

“How chivalrous of the Gladiator…”

Tristan turned around and raced to the cell door, coming face to face with a leering Damien. “What did you do to her?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know…?” Damien said, smirking.

Tristan grabbed Damien by the throat and began to squeeze. “What did you do to her?” he seethed.

Damien’s face began to turn livid as he tried to remove Tristan’s grip on his neck. The harder he squeezed the angrier Tristan got. But the angrier he got the more Alexandra’s words from the Inquisition Room haunted him, like whispers just out of earshot, until finally his whole body began to burn from the inside out, and it hurt to hurt Damien. He flung the taunting Gladiator backward and staggered to Alexandra and grabbed her around the waist and held on to her, retching.

She groaned and jerked at his touch. He felt her blood through the shirt she was wearing. He stood up and pushed her shirt up. Her chest and stomach were peppered with bruises. He touched his palm to her stomach and she sucked in her breath and trembled.

“Don’t give up on me,” he whispered, “don’t give up on me. Because I am not about to give up on you.”

Her hands flickered, struggled to glow. He pressed his lips to her stomach and it, too, struggled to emit luminescence, to no avail. Her breath was ragged and shallow. Tristan wanted to do more, knowing that only he could imbue Alex with life again. If she was to have any chance at all to live, he had to do what only he could do, and that was protect her the only way he could. He had to find a way to make love to her as soon as possible. He had to get her out of her restraints.

He placed a gentle hand against her back, and ran his tongue over her abdomen, murmuring, “Come to me Alexandra. Come to me. I will protect you from any further harm. I will protect you with my life and you will never know pain again.”

Her hands flickered into a stronger brightness, and her breath came easier. He showered her stomach with soft, wet kisses and her chest illuminated with a soft white light.

“Free yourself Alex, break the chains they’ve bound you with,” he whispered hoarsely.

Her hands dropped free, and she collapsed to him. The sound of Damien’s running feet fleeing the area to report what was happening inside the cell told Tristan they didn’t have much time. And she needed as much time as he could get.

He cradled her to the ground and tenderly caressed her face. Her eyes flew open and her arms wound around him as he lay on top of her. Her legs spread for him and her scent filled his nostrils, fueling his desire for her. It warred with his need to be gentle with her now. He buried himself inside her, feeling her softness mold itself around his hardness.

He slid his tongue inside her waiting mouth. They kissed as he began to move slowly inside of her. Her fingers grasped his hair as she wrapped her legs around him. He ran his hands up and down her legs and felt her body surge against his as she lit up the cell with her ethereal light. With each stroke in and out of her she seemed to gain further strength. He ran his mouth down her neck and savored her taste in his mouth as they moved together. Locked away in their own world, in their own rhythm, he could forget for a moment that they were imprisoned, awaiting a fate sometimes worse than death. It was only here, as he fought to heal her with his touch, that he could forget for a moment just what was at stake.

“I feel you,” she said huskily as their eyes met. “I feel you in me. I feel you move inside me. I feel your soul touching mine. I am you and you are me.”

Her burning amber eyes took his breath away as she arched her body and whispered his name. She cried out her release, and it was enough to make his cock pulse madly and he came with her. It blinded him to everything but her.

He looked at her. Astoundingly, she looked as if she’d never known a day of pain in her life. She touched him, and he knew they could face anything in this world as long as they had one another. But being her husband required much more of him than being Hope’s husband had. Alexandra was far from weak; yet the dice of fate were loaded against her. Protecting a Healer, a Savior, was no easy task. But as they cuddled, he knew he was the only one up to the job.

“They’re safe, you know,” she said quietly.

“I know.”

“What would I have done if they hadn’t been so stupid as to put me in your cell?”

“Someone would have taken up your cause.”

“In twenty-one years, no one had taken up my cause.”

“You managed to do something no woman had been able to do since Hope was taken from me.”

“Elizabeth and Kevin are out there.”

“I know. So is your brother.”

“I doubt my brother could have survived. But I know your sister Aidia is alive. If she’s anything like you, she will find a way to back to you.”

“You are ever the optimist.”

She captured his mouth in a savage kiss and could feel his cock growing hard again. “Make me strong. Prepare me for coming battles. Make me come again before they return.”

She wrapped her legs around him and held on tight as he lifted her up and pinned her back against the wall and branded her as his, again and forever. For this life and into the next.

Chapter Twelve

They lay in one another’s arms for what seemed like seconds before Veronica appeared with Damien.

“So much for keeping a Gladiator down. Seems all I have to do is wound my sister, and it does the trick. Open the door!”

As Alex and Tristan adjusted their clothing, he shielded her with his body. Veronica smirked.

“Fear not Tristan, I have no desire to whip my sister into shape any longer. I’ve tried to make her see my side long enough. You, on the other hand, can be reasoned with.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Veronica smiled and said, “You are a reasonable man, aren’t you Tristan?”

“Don’t listen to her.”

“Shut up, brat.”

Tristan wrapped a protective arm around Alexandra and his heart began to pound. “What is it you think I can be reasoned with about?”

“Since torture didn’t seem to do the trick for either of you, I have better idea.”

“If you even think about touching her again I’ll…”

“Blah, blah, blah you’ll kill me. Phooey. I’ve heard that song-and-dance before. Once she’s gone you’ll be grateful for my favor, just as you were once the rawness wore off Hope’s death.”

Alexandra tried to hold Tristan back, but she couldn’t. He knocked Veronica to the ground and straddled her, and put his hands around her neck. She gave a muffled scream. The cell door opened, and Damien and the guards tore him away from the incensed Queen.

“How dare you lay your hands on me that way?”

Tristan was a seething ball of rage; the veins on his forehead stood out fit to burst. His emotions were too high for him to do anything but glare at her. Alexandra stepped forward.

“How dare him, you ask? How dare
you?
You have his wife raped and executed. You have his children sent to labor camps…separate labor camps at that…and you expect him to simply do your bidding? Not only are you crazy, you disgust me, you disgust the gods you so casually invoke to back your power and instill fear into the masses. You’re a joke, a paper tiger. When the prophecy is fulfilled, all this will be gone. You will have nothing to stand on and the gods will wreak their vengeance on you.”

“Whether or not the prophecy is fulfilled, you will be dead. He’ll live his life out as a Gladiator, and you and his four children will live your remaining days as my slaves.”

Tristan let out a terrible roar and broke free of the guards. He grabbed Veronica by the front of her dress and made to hit her.

“Don’t!” Alex cried out.

He turned around to see her on her knees, with a guard holding a sword to her neck. He flung Veronica backward and head-butted the guard, knocking the sword out of his hand and shoving him to the side. He lifted Alex into a protective embrace and held her close.

Veronica was on her feet now, with revenge on her mind. “Armor him. He wants to defend her so badly—he can fight for her in the arena. Tonight.” She fixed them both with a spiteful glare and said, “Enjoy your time together, because the honeymoon I’ve allowed you is over.”

The guards separated them forcefully. Alexandra began to scream with rage and reach for him. Restrained by the other guards, Tristan felt sick to his stomach. He tried to remind himself this could still work out to their advantage. But as her screams echoed down the corridor, he found it increasingly difficult to believe.

* * * *

The crowd was spoiling for a fight. And in the past he would’ve been ready, too. In some ways, he supposed he still was. But it was different now. Before he’d been railing angrily against the system within which he was trapped. Now, not only did his own life hang in the balance, but with it the lives of his family. And if he knew Veronica, he would be facing one hell of a fixed fight.

As he was introduced to the crowd he tried to work himself up to the hyper-focused wildness that had always served him well in fights like this. “Returning to the ring after a year’s hiatus, the Crown brings you
Tristan Shane!
”

Suddenly he heard Alexandra’s chants in his ear. Pure adrenaline pumped through his body, and focused rage propelled his legs to move. He raced out into the arena—toward his destiny.

In the ring there were female Gladiators with swords already drawn, led by a single male wearing a mask. In all his years as a slave, Tristan had never been asked to fight women. And he had never fought a masked Gladiator. That in itself was odd. Even when fighting another man for the prize of living to see another day there was honor in looking the other man in the eye before delivering the final blow.

“And representing the Military Elite, Kevin Shane and the Government Warriors.”

Tristan’s blood ran cold as the mask of his opponent came up, revealing his son, all grown up. He searched the female faces, fearful of recognizing his daughter Elizabeth among them. As far as he could tell, she was not there.

Tristan took a step forward and the group moved as one in time together with a loud “Hu-rah-rah!” and crouched into attack mode. A combination of wrath and sorrow welled up in Tristan’s gut when he saw Veronica laughing hysterically in the Crown’s viewing box.

“Kevin, I am your father. Put your weapon down. Join me.”

“Join you? A man who chooses another instead of my mother, a woman whose only crime was loving a man too weak to even try to defend her?”

“It wasn’t like that at all. They held me in chains. I was forced to witness her death.”

“And what of me and Lizzie? Why did you never look for us?”

“I was being held prisoner.”

“Yeah, right. Living the life of a rock star and fucking the queen. Your name is legend, Father.”

“It’s more complicated than that, believe me.”

“Really, then what of the woman you impregnated?”

Tristan’s ire rose. “Don’t you dare talk about your mother like that.”

“Good try, Father. But I was speaking of the Healer you’ve taken to your bed.”

“Hold your tongue, you impudent cur.”

“Surround the traitor to the Crown!” Kevin shouted to his coterie of fighters.

“Kevin, believe me. I did everything I could to save you and Lizzie and your mother.”

“No you didn’t. You never picked a side, Tristan Shane. You just straddled the fence. When given the chance, I did.”

Tristan’s heart sank. Was Kevin lost to him forever? As the women surrounded him his mind went back to Alexandra. Who would protect her if he died? Certainly not Kevin. Kevin was working on behalf of the queen now. When the mask came back down, Tristan knew only a miracle would save them both.

“Kevin, don’t you remember life before this craziness at all?”

The crowd was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. Kevin ignored Tristan.

“This is for Mom,” he roared, as, blind with fury, he charged his father. Tristan stepped aside and Kevin crashed into one of the women, stumbled, and fell flat on his face, and gave a strangled gasp of pain. Kevin’s sword clattered to the ground.