Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I move to the lock and activate the cuffs. This time, I don't wince when it slams him against the wall. The mean, irritated part of me wishes it had been a little harder. The moment I step inside, powdery crumbs crunch under my shoes. "What the fuck?" I mutter, outraged at the mess. "What are you, two?"
The male on the wall growls. "Why aren't you scared of me?"
I glance over at him, despite my personal determination not to give him any attention. "Because you're chained to the wall and I'm not?"
He bares his teeth in what might be an almost-smile. I think he's less drugged today than yesterday. It's probably in his food, which is now all over the windows. The cuffs hold strong. Not that they need to; he doesn't even fight back against them. It's like he wants to be here, just like this.
I study the mess around me, then sigh and get to work. I straighten his bed, slotting it back into the wall. "If you try anything I'm going to leave you to rot in this mess," I say fiercely as I get to work. It brings me uncomfortably close to the magnetized gladiator, but he doesn't move a muscle. Not even his tail twitches.
Good.
Once the mattress is back in place, I look around at the disaster of his cell, then pull out my broom and dustpan. They're slightly different than they would be on Earth, but some things are universal. I get to work, cleaning up the mess, toweling up soup that smells better than what they feed the slaves. My stomach growls as I do, because they save the best meals for the gladiators, who need a lot of protein.
"You're hungry," he says.
I ignore him.
"Are they feeding you?"
I continue working. I'm not here to make conversation. The sooner I can get done here, the sooner I can be back to safety on the other side.
"What are you?" he asks as I mop the floors with a damp towel. "I know you can hear me."
When I continue to ignore him, something hits at my skirts. I look up, outraged, and his tail flicks through the air nearby. I glance down and it's a bit of protein bar—he must have held onto it and used his tail to flick it at me.
"Can you not?" I grit out. "I'm not here to be your friend, so get that thought out of your head. I'm only here because you're being an asshole and making more work for me."
"Why aren't you afraid of me?"
I do my best to ignore him. It's not so easy to do when he's looming over you and staring in your direction. I become incredibly aware of my every move, and I try not to shake my hips as I scrub or do anything that might be considered sexual. The last thing I want is the attention of a gladiator.
The attention of anyone, really. I scrape by because I'm unnoticed. I'm quiet and unassuming and it keeps me safe. This is not safe. I need to talk to the overseer. Maybe I can just do double-time in the kitchens until this gladiator is either moved into the barracks with the others or shipped off somewhere else. All I know is that I can't be around him.
He continues to try to talk to me, and I go right on with my work, not responding to anything. When I'm done scrubbing the last of the fragrant soup off the window, I pack up my cart and turn to him. "Quit making a mess. Seriously. All you're doing is making more work for me."
"What's your name?" he asks, his voice growly and deep.
It's useless to try and reason with him. With a roll of my eyes, I grab my cart and go.
6
CRULDEN
Her scent lingers in my cell long after she's gone.
She doesn't leave a blanket or a fresh mattress this time. She's simply straightened my existing ones and spot-cleaned them, and her hands were all over the material. I breathe in her smell, wondering if her small hands are soft or if they're roughened from work. She has five fingers, I've noticed. I wonder if all her people do or if she's unusual.
I sleep well that night, for all that the bed they've given me is uncomfortable and hard. My mind feels clearer, though, and it confirms my suspicions that my food is being drugged. I avoided dinner, and I can think straight. The two are obviously connected.
I still can't recall anything of my former life, though. I have flashes here and there of things, a few faces that flit through my thoughts, but no memories, no people I've left behind. They said there were vids of me, but I don't know what of. Did something happen to me that caused my mind to be wiped? I don't have answers, and my captors won't give them to me, I suspect.