Page 1 of Claimed By the Orc

1

GRAGASH

The crowd roared, and for a moment I forgot it all. My pain, my shame, my fears. Everything faded as hundreds of people screamed for me. The bright glare of the arena lights blinded me to the audience, turning them into shadows which crowded around the cage I stepped into, the cage which would be my entire universe until the fight was done.

I breathed deep, drawing in a lungful of cheap beer and expensive blood, the stale smell of sweat, and the harsh smell of ozone. The sawdust covering the floor gave my feet purchase, a pleasant change from the mirror-finish chrome I’d fought on last.

“Gra-gash,Gra-gash,Gra-gash.” My fans in the crowd chanted my name, and I turned, fist raised, to roar back at them. As always, the chant skipped a beat. Even those who traveled between stars to see me fight feared me. My lips twisted into what some might mistake for a smile.

Deep down, they knew what would happen if I got free of the cage and in amongst them, and they feared me. So they should. I didn’t know their faces, their names, or even their species—butthey paid my captors for this spectacle. That was enough for me tohate.

The worst were the journalists, clustering around the cage where they’d get the best angles to watch the fighters die. They made their pay from our suffering and death, and like carrion eaters, they didn’t care whose death they feasted on.

I didn’t snarl at them. None of them deserved the picture that would make. Except…a flash of red hair at the back of the baying pack caught my eye. Someone new, of a species I didn’t recognize, watching me with eyes like green jade and an expression I couldn’t place. Not the joy, the hunger, the bloodlust the other journalists shared. Something sad, or maybe angry. Whoever caused it, I felt an instinctive need to slay them and offer the pale-skinned female the offender’s heart.

“Tor-agah,” another chant went up on the far side of the cage, drowning out my fans. “Tor-agah!”

My opponent had arrived. With difficulty, I turned away from the intriguing female to face the monster my captors pitted me against. At once, I saw why he had such a loud cheering section. The blue-skinned, scaled monster stood a head taller than me, his eyes burning with an inner rage to mirror my own. A ragged scar ran down his torso, and another marked his neck where someone had come close to tearing out his throat.

In his right hand, he carried a curved sword, its edge honed so sharp it looked like it could cut a god. Somewhere, he’d lost his left arm, only to replace it with a shining chrome cybernetic limb. Clumsy but powerful, it looked like it belonged on an industrial robot, not a person.

This fight might be a challenge. I closed my right fist, activating the electro-gauntlet that was my only weapon, and let go of everything but the fight. For the next few blissful minutes, I was free.

2

ABIGAIL

“This is revenge for me turning you down, isn’t it?” I muttered as I pushed my way through the crowd, searching for a good place to view a fight I didn’t want to watch. Predictably, the best places had been claimed by journalists who’d gotten in early, so I set my eye on the space behind the crew fromBlood, Guts, and Video, shrugging my apologies at the annoyed glares of the aliens as I shoved my way past.

“Never,” the over-friendly voice of my editor spoke through my implanted comm. “That’s all in the past. You were simply the best available asset, and this is a great opportunity.”

Yeah, sure. Totally believable.“What makes you think I’m qualified for this, Tony? I don’t do sports coverage, let alone illegal blood sports.”

He chuckled, an unpleasant sound in person. Beamed directly into my brain made it about a thousand times worse. “You have the number one qualification in the business, Abigail. You’re on the right planet at the right time.”

I grumbled under my breath, but that was hard to argue with. Just bad luck for me, and good luck for the agency. Elbowing my way through a group of Akedians with more viciousness thanwas strictly necessary, I finally reached the space I wanted and looked at the fighting pit itself.

The converted warehouse gave it a brutal, industrial feel, all bare concrete and metal. Crowds filled the space around the pit itself, most of them fans of one fighter or the other, but with a sizeable minority just here to see someone’s blood without a care for whose it was. Bookies circulated through the audience, taking last-minute bets, and followed by vendors who offered refreshments and memorabilia to those who fancied paying hundreds of credits for cheaply printed t-shirt designed by someone’s ten-year-old child.

In the middle of it all, the cage waited. Thick bars welded together, it looked like overkill, more art than precaution. A way to make the fighters seem more dangerous, and to thrill those in the front row, because no one could break through bars even half that thick.

I’d never admit it worked on me, not anywhere Tony might hear.

At last, I looked at the fighters themselves. Shrouded in mystery, this was the first time I’d seen either of them, and for once I saw an appeal to the event. One fighter, Toragah, was a scaled blue lizard with a metal arm and a shimmering blade, scarred and angry, prowling back and forth. I looked him over, getting a solid record of him before the fight. The other, Gragash, was…

Well, he was stunning. No two ways about it. Green skin covered powerful muscles, and while he stood at least seven feet tall, his shoulders were broad enough that he almost looked stocky. Tusks protruded from the corners of his full, firm lips, adding to the appeal of his chiseled jaw. He wore a scowl that dripped contempt for everything, everyone, around him.

Aside from that scowl, he was kind enough to wear very little. A broad gorget to protect his neck and upper chest, a kiltshort enough to show off his powerful thighs, and a gauntlet that crackled with lightning.

He moved like a tiger, graceful and deadly. My stomach filled with butterflies as I watched him, and I caught myself chewing on my lip.

“Oh, so that’s your type, hey?” Tony’s voice reminded me I really should have killed the camera feed before ogling the fighter, and my cheeks burned. “More into the monster than the man? I guess I should have kept up the karate.”

Blinking the code to disable my eyeware cameras, I hissed my reply. “Wouldn’t have helped, Tony. I can’t imagine a world in which I wouldn’t kick your ass in a fight.”

Brave words. Probably stupid ones,the sensible voice in the back of my mind whispered. As usual, she turned up a moment too late for me to act on her advice. I kept myself in good shape, and Tony was more than twice my age, but he was still bigger and meaner than me. I wouldn’t bet on myself in a fight.

It shut him up, though, which was the main point. I’d take the immediate victory and worry about consequences later.

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