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In the morning, a sweet-smelling bowl of noodles is set in the slot. It's brought by an ooli female, not the strange, delicate one with the dark brows and the ugly face and who fascinates me anyhow.

I don't eat it. It's probably drugged. Instead, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. She asked me not to make a mess because it makes her more work. It makes her hate me. I just want to talk to her, but she's made it clear that if I keep making more work for her it doesn't put her in a chatty mood. Do I care? After consideration, I decide I do. I want her to like me, for some reason. I want her to tell me her name.

I like that she's not afraid of me, but I don't want her every look in my direction to be full of anger. Do her people smile, I wonder.

I remain in my cot until the scientist arrives. He stares at me through the glass, and I roll onto my side and stare back.

"You should eat," he says. "You need to keep up your strength. Is there a meal you'd prefer? Let me know and I'll have our kitchens work on it." When I don't respond (or eat) he continues. "I know you can talk. You had plenty to say to the female last night."

I should have guessed he would listen in. It bothers me, though, that he did. My tail flicks against the mattress, hard.

He continues to observe me, his scent tinged with a hint of fear. "Crulden, your owner and I are quite concerned over your lack of motivation. A gladiator that does not eat and loses his strength is useless to his master. We need you to remain strong and healthy. I am concerned that all the drugs we are putting into your system will have a detrimental effect, and I wonder if there is not a better way for us to work together."

I roll over onto my opposite side, presenting him with my back. I don't want to work with that keffing shithead at all. “Work” together. He means that I should be a good little slave. Be obedient. Kef him.

If he gets close enough, I'm going to finish tearing his tail off next time. The thought fills me with a sick pleasure.

"What if I were to offer you the female?"

He asks it, so low and casual, I almost miss it. Slowly, I turn, sitting up. I watch him with narrowed eyes, not speaking. I hate that he's hit on the one thing that interests me…and yet, I'm intrigued. Hungry and drugged isn't getting me anywhere…perhaps I'm going about this all wrong after all.

"I see I have your attention," he says smugly. "She's not mine to bargain with, of course, but her owner has a very marked interest in your success. If you cooperate with us today, I can arrange for her to visit with you tonight."

"Cooperate?" I growl.

"Eat. Let us perform some physical tests on you. Nothing intrusive, just to get baselines for your vitals." He smiles as if this is the easiest thing in the world. "That's all. Trust us and we can trust you."

I glance at the bowl. "I won't eat that. It's drugged."

"We don't want to drug you. Prove that we can trust you and we won't."

I lift my chin. I don't like giving in but…if I get the female… "Bring me undrugged food and I'll eat." And I turn my back to him. We'll see how willing he is to “work with me” after all.

I breathe deep, but her scent is fading from my blankets. I wonder if he'll bring her back after all, or if that's a lie just to keep me placid.

I'll find out soon enough.

7

MINA

I scrub at the plas-coated bowls in the kitchen, up to my arms in suds when I hear the gossiping of the women turn in a strange direction. Normally they talk about who slacked off of work or whoever the overseer is fucking this week. When they start whispering, though, I know something's up. I carefully put down my scrubber and listen quietly, mindful not to clank the dishes.

"…no drugs this time," the head kitchen slave hisses as she prepares a bowl of noodles.

The woman at her side, an ooli named Hrakich, makes a distressed sound in her throat. "…wise? …too dangerous…"

"…the elite cellblock."

I digest this information in silence. They've been drugging whoever it is in cellblock C and now they've decided to stop? What made them change their minds? I think about the male imprisoned there. It's not really a surprise that he's been drugged. His eyes have been heavy and unfocused every time I've seen him. He still has a lot of energy though—and anger—and like the others, I worry what he'll be like without anything in his system at all.


Tags: Ruby Dixon Romance