Baited (Gladiators of the Gryn #2)

Izzy

IZZY

B layn’s indication of what he does for fun kills the mood somewhat. Not that there was much of a mood to begin with, given he’s all but destroyed the couch in the same way he’s demolished the food I put out for him. I don’t want to think of the state of the sanitary area either.

After his admission, things go quiet. He studies me like a predator watching prey for a while, then he paces around the room for a while, shaking his feathers until they’re dry, before he returns to the seating area and settles himself until the guards burst through the cubicle door again and he’s unceremoniously bundled out.

I clear up the remnants of the food, and having checked the disaster which is the sanitary area, I go to my cleaning cupboard. Madame made it clear that, until there is a replacement or I have more than one client, I’m still the cleaner. She didn’t want me “sitting about, causing trouble,” like that’s a thing I’ve ever done.

“Got him eating out of your hand yet?” Yelii says loudly into the confines of my little space, making me jump.

She’s wrinkling her flat nose up at the cleaning products and implements like she’s never seen them before in her life.

“Gryn aren’t hard to please,” she adds with a sneer.

“Then why didn’t you please this one?” I retort and instantly regret it as she moves into the small space, filling it with her bulk and scales.

“I’d have hoped he’d have eaten you by now, you little scrap,” she snarls. “But as he hasn’t, I’m here with a warning. Don’t steal my clients ever again or you’ll have more to worry about than a feral gladiator in your bed.”

“He’s not in my…” I start to protest, but Yelii has already slithered out with a flick of her tail and her perfume hanging in the air like her threat.

As if she needs to worry I’m going to “steal” another one of her clients. I only got Blayn by default because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she didn’t want him.

In fact, it’s only because the dome is paying Madame a stupendous amount of credits he’s here at all.

“Progress?” Madame bellows into the cubicle where I’m cleaning.

I stick my head out of the sanitary area, a bucket filled with sludge in one hand.

“At least you’re not dead.” She sniffs at me.

Probably only pleased about my living status because it’s one less body to get rid of.

“He’s…coming along.”

She quirks up a manicured eyebrow. “You’ve bedded him?”

I internally wince, determining if it makes sense to lie or not. “No, not yet, but soon,” I say, which is not a lie but absolutely not the truth either.

“The gladiator let you touch him?” The other eyebrow raises to join the first.

“Not exactly…” No, I’ve let him make a mess in the bathroom and fed him. I grasp at what straws I can find and remember the ribbon and the other small items Blayn put on the couch. “He did offer me some jewels.”

Madame’s face breaks into a big smile.

“That’s good, if he’s bringing gifts. These sort are always hard, and for your first client too, but it sounds like you’re working on him. Don’t feel you need to rush anything. Next meal he has is on the house,” she trills as she exits the cubicle.

“Great.” I look down at the bucket in my hand. “That’ll help.”

Obviously the longer this takes, the more credits Madame makes, so she’s not going to push me to do anything other than entertain the gladiator until the dome is unhappy, at which point I will be under some considerable pressure. Then it’ll be make or break.

I think back to the small bundle of trinkets and the coloured ribbon he placed on the couch and then rapidly removed. I mean, I called it a gift, but was it? Did Blayn mean to give me something? The expression on his face was one of confusion, and that’s hardly a male getting ready for some greater encounter.

And then there were the claws in the soft upholstery of the couch. Six inches of onyx which sank into the fabric as if it wasn’t even there.

Claws which could rip me to shreds in a heartbeat, if he wanted.

But he hasn’t.

As I finish clearing up the cubicle, I find myself wishing I knew more about the Gryn and the gladiators in general. Ultimately, there’s only one way to find out.

I knock gently on Riklinn’s door. It’s late and she’s been dancing all this time, but I don’t know how long I’ll have before they bring Blayn back again.

She opens the door, dressed only in a silky night dress, her makeup smeared down the side of her face.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” I say, “but I brought some syfa cake and”—with a flourish, I produce the bottle from behind my back—“some Remek wine.”

Her eyes, dull with sleep, light up. “Where did you get that?” She grabs hold of my clothing and pulls me into her room.

Staff are not supposed to have alcohol of any kind, and generally Madame keeps it all locked away.

“This was left in one of the cubicles, unopened,” I explain. “One of the limited perks of being the house cleaner.”

Riklinn digs into her storage trunk and pulls out two cups. One has symbols on the side I can’t read and the other is slightly chipped. I open up the wine and pour us out a good measure. Riklinn sips hers and sighs as I unwrap the cake called syfa which tastes like Black Forest gateau while looking like a brick.

“I need this,” Riklinn says. “I got grabbed by one of the clients, and Gabosh had to pull me away from him.”

“Did you get hurt?” I ask. Gabosh is one of the larger male Habosu the madame employs as a bouncer and he can be rough.

“I’m fine.” Riklinn flaps a hand at me and then picks up a slice of the cake. “Anyway, how are you getting on with your gladiator?”

“He bathed a lot, he ate a lot, and he sort of gave me a gift and then took it back.” I sigh. “He’s not making it easy, and I don’t know what to do to make it easier. I don’t know anything about his species. Can you help me?”

Riklinn’s eyes are huge. “How?”

“Can you look them up on your vid-screen? And translate?” I dip my head. “I can’t read,” I admit.

A pair of lavender arms wrap around me.

“Why didn’t you say?” she asks kindly.

“It didn’t seem important, until now,” I reply.