Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Nina

I wake in Venn’s arms. This is becoming something of a routine, and I absolutely love every minute of it. I stretch, luxuriating in the feel of him against the entire right side of my body. He stiffens, and when I look down, I see his cock tenting his breeches.

In another circumstance, a world away from here, I would have gladly taken him in hand, but the spotlight is already on, and our breakfast has already been delivered, and any moment now the door will open, and parasites will fill the dais, ready to begin their busy day watching the Nina, Venn and Reke Show.

“Sorry.” I whisper that word so quietly I almost can’t hear my voice, but I want to keep this moment between just Venn and me. It isn’t anyone else’s business, not even Reke’s. Then I force myself to my feet, getting ready to greet another fucked-up day in captivity.

Speaking of Reke, he’s crouched in the shadows of his cell, just beyond my spotlight, just out of my reach. Last night, afterwards, when I’d slumped to the ground in a boneless lump of satisfaction, Reke had eventually consented to holding my hand. He’d reached through a gap between two bars and intertwined our fingers. That’s how I’d fallen asleep—cuddled up to Venn, my hand in Reke’s, with his deadly claws pressed against the back of my hand, firm enough I knew they were there but not so firm as to pierce my skin.

Always, he is gentle with me.

I stretch, reaching my hands over my head, working out a kink in my shoulders and watching Reke watch me. His gaze flickers from my face to my arms and back again, like he’s taking note of my movements, like he’s trying to memorize me.

A warm shiver races down my spine, and I turn around and bend over, touching my fingers to my toes and accidentally giving him a perfect view of my ass. I wouldn’t say I’ve got the world’s best ass, but the way Reke’s gaze never strays tells me he’s interested.

Too bad he and Venn aren’t my only audience. I only just finish my morning ablutions seconds before the muffled cheering overhead starts and the parasites fill the dais. Most of them are different each day, but I recognise a few who’ve returned multiple times. I’ve no fucking idea why they’re so interested in me. If it wasn’t immediately obvious the first time they saw me, by now it’s got to be pretty clear that I’m going to make a lousy gladiator. I wouldn’t bet money on me winning.

I hope the fuckers lose all their riches on me. I hope I bring them the worst bad luck imaginable .

I show them my teeth, just as the other gladiators show me theirs. I feel stupid doing it, but I hate the audience so fucking much that I ignore my stupidity and snarl. Reke joins me, tossing what looks to be a small coin through the gaps between his bars. The coin hits an invisible wall between the walkway and the dais that sizzles like when oil hits a hot frying pan.

Even though they’re completely protected, the audience flinch. Most of the other gladiators laugh. It’s a cacophony of sounds, more like rush-hour traffic on a Monday morning than laughter, but I love the sound.

“Fuck you!” I yell at them. “You pieces of absolute shit!”

“Fuckwit!” Reke swears, the end of his tail flicking. I’m coming to realize it flicks like that when he’s enjoying himself. It’s when his whole tail is moving that you’ve got to be careful because that’s when he’s preparing to pounce. Like last night when Venn had his hand down my pants. Only there’d been bars between Reke and I, and Reke’d had nowhere to pounce.

“Teach me more,” he demands, his eyes glowing particularly bright. I could drown in his eyes, I think, and he’d probably let me.

“It would be my absolute pleasure, sweet pie. By the time I’ve finished with you, you’ll be swearing like an Australian tradie!”

“What is Aus … Aus-tray … ”

“Is that your species?” Venn comes closer, standing between me and our audience, his enormous frame blocking them from my view. I touch his arm gratefully. Always such a gentleman .

“No. I’m a Human. We’re … Well, Humans are a complicated species.”

“I will be a Hu-man too.” Reke gives a satisfied nod, as if that concludes the matter.

I open my mouth to tell him that isn’t how it works, but I can’t quite bring myself to speak. Venn isn’t contradicting Reke either, for all I’ve noticed how much a stickler to the facts Venn usually is.

I stand up on my toes and kiss Venn’s cheek. Then I crook a finger at Reke. For once, he does as he’s told and leans a fraction closer. I can just about kiss the corner of his mouth between the bars.

He pulls back sharply, his eyes narrowing.

“You don’t like kisses?” Of the two of them, Reke has always been so sure when it comes to touches. And last night, he’d commanded Venn to touch me like a master, the confidence in his voice making it all too clear that refusal wasn’t an option. (Not that Venn or I had wanted to refuse. Hell no!)

“I … ” Reke touches the spot my lips had touched, his tail wrapping itself around one of my thighs.

He leans in again and when I move to kiss him, he turns his face a little, rubbing his cheek against mine instead. His skin’s so soft it’s like rubbing against the most luxurious bathroom towel. I close my eyes, breathing in his scent, listening to him breathing. Somehow it’s just as intimate as when Venn and I kiss, our bodies pressed so close together there isn’t a slither of air between us.

There’s a rumbling noise, and I open my eyes to see Reke’s chest vibrating. He’s purring. Actually purring .

“Reke—” I begin, but he suddenly tenses, glancing at the parasites.

For once, if only for a few moments, I’d completely forgotten they were there. I have to lean around Venn to see what’s caught Reke’s attention. They’re pressed as close to the front of his cell as they can get, separated only by the walkway, and they’re holding up their tablets in a way that makes it all too obvious they’re filming. A few are laughing, which sounds exactly like nails going through a woodchopper, rough and grating, so much so that my teeth actually ache with the sound.

I suppose they’re getting their own back for us gladiators laughing at them.

I grind my teeth. I hate them with such a visceral force that I’m almost surprised to find my hatred isn’t standing beside me, a twin of myself. Instead, it twists inside me, painful and ugly and not the person my grandma taught me to be.

Reke drops into a crouch, his claws digging into the perfectly smooth floor, and his tail releases my leg. I can see something like murder in his expression, as if he’s planning how he’s going to kill every single one of our audience. But that doesn’t deter them. Instead, it seems to ignite their interest even more, as if Reke’s show of affection for me somehow makes him less dangerous, less beyond reproach.

The hatred twisting in my gut transforms into panic. Has spending time with me put Reke in danger? I know Venn said Reke could survive anything, but Reke isn’t invincible. He’s made of muscles and bones and feelings just like the rest of us, for all that he has advanced healing abilities .

Venn shifts restlessly on the spot, and I get the impression he’s wishing he could shield Reke from stares of the parasites as well as he’s shielding me. This might be the first time I’ve seen Venn display any sort of concern for Reke’s welfare, which only serves to increase my worry.

“Look at me, Reke, and tell me which parasite you’ll eat first.”

“I … ” Blinking, he tips his head to one side, looking at me like he didn’t understand my request. Or maybe he just didn’t hear me because he was too focused on the parasites who witnessed his show of affection for me and now despise him for it.

I kneel, using the bars to keep my balance. Then, with a smile I hope looks feral, and keeping my voice as clear as possible (as much for our audience’s benefit as Reke’s) I ask: “When we get free, when you tear these bars down, which of the Hov patrons will you tear limb from limb first?”