Baited (Gladiators of the Gryn #2)

Izzy

IZZY

“ S o, all you have to do is touch him? And you get fifty percent?” Riklinn’s eyes are huge as she stares at me in the mirror while putting on her makeup.

She’s wearing a dress which is practically all gossamer and see through. It leaves little to the imagination, but she’s so much happier now she’s dancing and not the other thing.

“I don’t have to touch him. I have to get him to accept being touched by…well, by someone else who isn’t holding a sword or any sort of weapon,” I reply.

Given Blayn was partially willing to be put into restraints which bit deep into his flesh, and he’s covered in tattoos, not all touch is abhorrent to him.

“You could whip him,” Riklinn says. “Some males like that sort of thing.”

“I doubt this one would. I don’t think he gets his kicks from being whipped.”

In fact, it’s hard to work out what might interest Blayn at all. Other than a bath and food.

All the other pleasure workers have gone out of their way to tell my how dangerous a gladiator is. None of them have gone any way to making me feel better about my first customer. Being alive after a few nova-hours in a room with him is apparently, a miracle.

I was bracing myself to do the horizontal mambo for credits, but I wasn’t expecting to instead be hoping my head stays on my shoulders by the end of each session.

This truly is a poison chalice of an assignment, and both the Madame and Yelii know it. She hasn’t said a word to me since I took over, and no doubt she knows I renegotiated terms.

“What are you going to wear for tonight?” Riklinn asks me.

I look down at my current outfit. Practical red harem pants, which are comfortable and breezy when I’m cleaning and a crop top in a matching color, which strains a little against my bosom, given I’ve always been well endowed and even the stress of finding myself in a whole new galaxy hasn’t reduced them by much.

“This, probably.”

“You can’t!” Riklinn gasps. “You need to look gorgeous for him, tempt him. Get him wanting to touch you . Then you can offer to do the same in return.”

Somehow, I don’t think Blayn works that way, but then who am I to second guess anything about this huge, dark Gryn male.

“I’d prefer to be able to run if I need to.” I look at her impossible hover heels. “And for the time being, I think I’ll stick to what I’m comfortable in.”

Riklinn shrugs. “If you change your mind, you know you only have to ask to borrow anything of mine.”

“There you are!” Madame pokes her head around the curtain and glares at me. “The dome has been in contact. The gladiator will be here in ten nova-minutes.” She looks me up and down but doesn’t comment on my outfit. “Did you get near him last night?”

“No.”

“So, we fed a gladiator,” she huffs. “Good thing they’re paying top credits for this treatment.” She flicks the curtain shut, and I hear her jewelry jingle as she goes to annoy someone else.

“Thanks for the good luck wishes,” I mutter. “Maybe I won’t get eaten tonight.”

“Or maybe you will,” Riklinn says with a slow wink of one of her huge eyes.

“Really? From you?” I elbow her in the side, and she squeaks out a laugh. “I expected better.”

“You’ll be fine, . He’s not going to hurt you, or he’d have done it already,” she says in all seriousness, and my heart rate lowers. “And for all her bluster, Madame is not going to let a dangerous killer loose in here unless she’s had all the reassurances from the dome.”

Great, it’s right back up there again.

“I’ll see you later.” I give her a wave as she undoes the damage my elbow wrought to her eyeliner and make my way up to the cubicle.

The door is already open when I get there, and four of the Zarvu guards are leaving. One of them gives me an unpleasant leer. I rather wish I had my mop with me, if only to shove it in his stupid face. Instead I throw my shoulders back, ignore them, and march into the room.

The door clicks behind me. Blayn is in a similar position as yesterday, only this time he’s facing me, rather than looking like he’s planning an escape attempt. But also, like yesterday, he’s filthy and has a glower on his face which is probably worse.

I hold up my hands.

“No touching.” I smile at him.

It doesn’t seem to have any effect. His wrists are as raw as before, and there’s a mark around his neck from what looks like a ligature. Fists are, yet again, balled up, vicious black claws poking through.

“Bath?” I query, given the smell coming from him is distinctly unsavory.

“Bath,” he growls, lifting his head and sucking in the air.

I lead him across to the door, press the button to open it, and practically get buried in feathers as he pushes his way through.

“Pants this time,” I call out as I swiftly close the door before I get an eyeful of Gryn anatomy yet again.

All I have to do is get him used to being touched, that’s it. He doesn’t want anything more, and if you’re honest, you don’t either.

My brain, the sensible part of it anyway, is quite clear. I have a job to do, I’m getting paid handsomely, and I don’t have to worry about anything else. Just get Blayn used to touch, that’s all.

I order up food from the kitchen again, adding more of the dishes he consumed last night and less of those he didn’t. It might be coming out of my fee, but it’s a big enough amount of credits in my future, I can afford to spend what I don’t have just yet.

There’s more splashing from the sanitary area than last night. Whether that means Blayn is particularly dirty or he’s enjoying himself is moot. The food arrives and I arrange it once again.

Then I sit and wait.