Baited (Gladiators of the Gryn #2)

Izzy

IZZY

“ R iklinn!” The madame bursts into her room without so much as a knock.

Her eyes widen as she sees me on the bed, but I can’t be bothered to move or even acknowledge her.

“You,” she says.

“I’m leaving. I was here to visit Riklinn which isn’t against the rules,” I say quietly, getting to my feet.

Madame doesn’t move out of the way, and I sigh internally. I don’t have it in me for a fight, with her or with anyone else.

“I wanted to speak with you, which is why I came to see Riklinn,” the madame says, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “I heard about what happened to your gladiator, and I’m sorry.”

I stare at her until I remember how close she was with the captain. I drop my gaze.

“It is what it is,” I mumble.

“I’m also sorry because I’ve found out Yelii stole your credits.”

“Yelii?” I gasp. “Why? How?”

“She hacked our systems before she left.” The madame sits down heavily on Riklinn’s bed, making it creak alarmingly. “I’ve always prided myself on running a tight but fair house, only she didn’t see it that way.”

“What else did she take?” Riklinn says, her voice wavering.

The madame takes my hand between hers. They’re hot and heavy but surprisingly reassuring. “I’m so sorry, little one. The only credits she stole were yours.”

My breath hitches, my heart burning like a hot coal, searing its way through all my organs, all my bones.

“It figures. She hated me,” I say. “I shouldn’t have expected any less from her. And given how utterly crap my luck is, of course she only stole from me.”

“I’ve reported her to the authorities,” the madame gives my hand a bone crushing squeeze. “And you can stay here for as long as you need to.”

“I can’t stay.” I sigh. “I have to go to Sartak. I have to find Blayn. The procurator told him I couldn’t go because I was ‘fragile,’ and I need to show him I am not. But now I have no credits, I’m not going anywhere.”

“The procurator said what?” the madame growls.

She actually growls, almost as well as a gladiator in the dome.

“I was too fragile to go to Sartak.”

“I grew up in Sartak,” Madame says through gritted teeth. “And it’s a space walk compared to Tatatunga.” She turns to me. “I’ve heard about this new procurator from…well, it doesn’t matter who from, but he’s bad news, worse than the last one, only he’s able to keep the resistance at bay by telling them what they want to hear.”

“The resistance?” I query, my already full brain struggling with all this new information.

“The ones who bombed the dome six nova-months ago and made the council act on slavery,” Riklinn says.

“Oh.” I look between Riklinn and the madame. “I can’t read, remember.”

The madame blinks wildly. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t read,” I state baldly. “My translator is the basic model.”

“Why the gak didn’t you say something?” she fires at me.

“I’ve learnt enough to get by. I wasn’t about to use the wrong cleaning product if you were worried.”

The madame splutters. “I expect all my workers to have the best quality translators. If you’d said something, I’d have had it upgraded.” Her eyes search my face. “At my own cost,” she adds.

“You’d have done that for me?”

“We’re in this together, ,” she says, looking at Riklinn leaning against the far wall, although given there’s three of us in her small room, she’s not that far away. “I’m well aware working in a pleasure house isn’t everyone’s first choice, but it shouldn’t ever be their worst choice.”

I blink at her. “But…?”

“But I’m hard on you? Of course I am. I want everyone to get what they want out of this place. I don’t expect slackers.” She smiles at me, and it lights up a face I thought was harsh. “But if you work hard for me, I’ll help you.”

The madame reaches out a hand to Riklinn, who takes it.

“After all, everyone has their strengths,” she says. “And everyone deserves a little happiness.”

My chest feels tight, and I put my balled fist over my heart. I didn’t expect any of this from the madame.

“I had my happiness, I never expected it,” I rasp, voice hoarse, eyes blurring with tears. “And I’ve lost him.”

“Now, my dear.” I’m suddenly pulled against a great green bosom when I was least expecting it. “I will not have such a defeatist attitude in my establishment. You are going to Sartak, and you are going to find your gladiator.”

“How?”

“I’m going to take you. Riklinn will run this place while I’m away.”

“You will?” I exclaim.

“I will?” Riklinn chimes in.

“You”—the madame points at Riklinn who looks terrified—“are the daughter of the best trader Trefa has ever seen. You have the business expertise and the knowledge to run this place with your eyes closed.”

“What?” I stare at Riklinn as if she’s grown a new head. “You never told me!”

I mean, it explains so many things, such as her reluctance to do the deed with clients and her inability to even discuss the act. But it doesn’t explain how she ended up in a pleasure house of all places.

“I’m the youngest daughter. I don’t get to be part of the business.” Riklinn studies her shoes.

“More fool your mother then,” Madame says, “given your sisters are useless.”

Riklinn opens and closes her mouth like a fish.

“I can’t pay you back, obviously,” I say. “But I can work off any debt I owe you.”

“I don’t do indentured employees, unlike that gakking procurator in the dome. Let me help you, . It’s the least I can do after my error in employing Yelii and not making provision to stop her from stealing from you.”

“Are you sure?” I say, the tears returning.

“Providing you don’t cry on me, either of you,” she says fiercely. “I expect my workers to be strong.” She gets to her feet. “Meet me in the reception in ten nova-minutes,” she says, sweeping out of the room like a Spanish galleon in full sail.

“What just happened?” Riklinn asks. “I think I put too much whisky in those drinks because I’m sure the madame just asked me to run her business for her while she takes you to Sartak to find your mate.”