Page 17 of Adtovar
“Why don’t you trust me and tell me what the fuck is going on?” I snapped. It was becoming more and more apparent that Adtovar had a secret. A secret I needed to know if I was going to put my trust and hope of rescue in his hands.
Adtovar strode into my room, crossing the few steps needed to take a seat on my cot. I followed, sitting as well. Not close—it was perfectly respectable, but my heart increased in tempo, nonetheless.
“I am not as young as I appear.” Despite his words, the crooked grin he gave me was absolutely boyish. “A short while ago, I was gravely injured, and the only way to save my life was to put me in the Garoot Healer.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a healing technology that can repair and regenerate cells. Treatment by a Garoot Healer returns a body to its most optimum level.”
“So, you’re telling me this machine can not only fix injuries, but it can also restore youth?” Damn, I’d kill to get my hand on one of those, if for nothing more than to help the females recover after prize night.
“Something like that,” Adtovar agreed. “At my age, I am considered an elder of my species.”
The plot fromBenjamin Buttonswept through my brain. “And you were a gladiator when you were younger... before?”
“Yes, for many years.” Adtovar cut his eyes away as though he regretted the admission.
“How good were you?” I asked.
He drew in a deep breath, muscular chest expanding as the hands he held in his lap turned into fists. “I was champion... undefeated.” He grimaced at the memory. “But I was a different male back then. My mate and child died, and I fought to numb the pain of their loss. I was... brutal.”
The shame in his voice tore at my heart. It wasn’t a secret Adtovar was hiding. It was pain. I knew pain... and secrets. “I’m sorry about your family.” I gently placed my hand on his forearm, intending to offer solace for his loss, but the momentour skin made contact, it felt as if a current of electricity surged between us, crackling like a live wire.
Adtovar’s eyes followed the movement as I pulled my hand from his arm. “How long has it been since you’ve been in the ring?” I asked to cover the awkwardness. Despite not touching him any longer, I still tingled.
“Not long,” he grunted, but then his expression softened with a faint smile. “I was imprisoned in a pit only a few of your Earth months ago. It is where I met my human daughter, Willa.” His expression shifted again, the pale blue eyes growing dark. “Before I came on this mission, I promised her I would not fight again.” His regret at breaking his word was so palpable it seemed to hang in the air like a heavy, cold fog, making my heart ache.
“I don’t want you breaking your word to your daughter, not for me,” I insisted. I knew what it felt like to have a parent’s promise not come true. Granted, mine had been because a drunk driver killed them. But my eight-year-old heart felt the betrayal just the same when they didn’t come home as promised. “There’s got to be another way. What about that ship of yours? Can’t they just come down here and blow Bozzo to hell and rescue us?”
Adtovar glanced at me, a faint hint of amusement brightening his pale eyes. “There are layers upon layers of politics involved in the rescue of human slaves. The Alliance took Earth as a protectorate, which made it illegal to enslave or harm humans. But there is a caveat that doesn’t allow humans to be liberated by force. Acts of aggression are seen as a declaration of war. Stealth and trickery have proven best until now.”
“Stealth and trickery,” I murmured, thinking how well the cunning tools had served me lately. “Bozzo still doesn’t know the real reason you’re here... correct?”
“Correct.”
“Well then, we’ve still got stealth and trickery on our side... we may just have to adjust the plan a bit.” Ideasdanced in my mind, a vivid tapestry of chaos and explosions woven together with strands of general mayhem. My lips parted slightly, an involuntary response to the urgent need to give voice to the tumultuous musings that clamored for release.
Adtovar gently placed his finger across my lips, and his touch seemed to flip some kind of switch in my psyche. My brain emptied in an instant, leaving only the tingling sensation of his fingers against my lip, ushering me to silence.
As his fingertips left my lips, I would swear his hand trembled. Or maybe I was the one doing the trembling. A moment later, I caught the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and understood the need for silence.
One of the guards who escorted Adtovar earlier—the smaller, nicer one I’d nicknamed Fric—appeared, carrying a couple of bottles of water and protein bars that he tossed to the male sitting at my side. Adtovar caught the bounty easily in one large hand, his chin lowering in a nod of gratitude.
“The dining hall will be open shortly for the evening meal,” the guard said, shifting on his feet and kicking up plumes of gray dust. “But I thought you could use the nutrition.” He glanced up, his dark gaze landing first on me before shifting and lingering on Adtovar, accompanied by a faint blush, which on his green skin amounted to his cheeks turning a rather lovely shade of pine. “My father used to talk of you. He was a fan.”
“Thank you,” Adtovar nodded again, and the guard turned on his heel, steps echoing down the corridor.
“Interesting,” Adtovar glanced at the sustenance he held.
“Not all the guards are assholes,” I told him with a heavy sigh. Even if we managed to escape, there would be so many more who could not. “Most are... but a few are trapped, just like the rest of us.”
Adtovar dropped the guard’s gift onto the cot and absentmindedly raised his hands to his horns, scratching atthe pearlescent appendages as if unaware of his own actions. Perhaps the dry desert air bothered him. It certainly made my skin ashy as hell.
The minty cream nestled in my medical kit wasn’t particularly useful for many ailments, but it offered soothing relief for skin irritation, a type of alien aloe. I hopped to my feet, small stones scuffling beneath my feet as I went to rummage through the depths of the tattered bag hanging precariously by the door. My fingers closed around the cool metal tin, the surface slightly rusty and dented from years of use.
“I noticed you scratching your horns a lot. This might help.” I turned back to Adtovar, scooping out a generous blob of the salve, the cool, smooth texture coating my fingers as I reached for his horns. Adtovar jerked abruptly, flinching slightly, as though expecting that even the slightest contact might unleash a wave of horrendous pain.
Of course, he’d be resistant, I realized, since healing for him was mostly technological. “It’s just a mint salve. It’s pretty good on skin irritations.”
