The kennels were amazing, with plenty of room for the canines to run and in Jaxur’s enclosure there was a variety of climbing opportunities and places for her to curl up and nap, as well as toys. The food and water dispensers were modern and the whole place was immaculate.
At long last she allowed herself to be conducted to the suite set aside for her as an owner of her own House. She had a sitting room, an office alcove, a huge bedroom and a bathroom with all the amenities even nicer than the one she had at home. Arinna the House Manager assured her if anything was lacking, it would be fixed.
When the door closed behind Arinna, who meant well but hovered too much for Samyra’s taste, she went to the bed and flopped onto the mattress, which was firm the way she preferred it. She tried to imagine Jamirr in the bed with her but it was highly unlikely they’d end up here. It seemed pretty obvious the gladiators didn’t mingle with the other members of the House for social calls and nothing had changed between the two of them. He was still her slave and not free to make his own choices.
Her handheld chimed and she found a schedule for meals in the main dining room, a training schedule, an invitation to have dinner with Kyden and his mate in three days and notice of appointments for her with one Falayla, who she inferred was their PR specialist. And the House physician for her physical. She hoped he’d never heard of Lajaran’s Syndrome and wouldn’t think of screening for it. Traveling had made her condition flare up and she’d have to fake her way through tomorrow’s training. She adjusted the appointment with the doctor to the following week but didn’t see any reason not to keep the one with the PR person. She’d been basically doing all her own media relations and social media for years so she didn’t expect much from this meeting except perhaps a slate of interviews and guest spots on the Five Systems publicity channels.
Samyra hoped this wasn’t a mistake on her part but the chance to be the first woman fighting for Team Badari, even in this limited engagement was too good to miss. She was sure to reap huge benefits from bringing her skills to this much bigger market.
Eight weeks, she thought. I can survive anything for eight weeks. And plainly she was going to live in the lap of luxury for the two months.
Chapter Six
Jamirr was of two minds about being in proximity to the Badari. He was intrigued to have a chance to get to know them and perhaps learn more about his own life before waking up in a cage but on the other hand he had severe misgivings about what he might find out. He was puzzled why he was even here since Samyra was adamant she wouldn’t sell him to become a fulltime gladiator but evidently Kyden had insisted he come.
His room was comfortable enough and he liked the idea the door was unlocked and he could come and go as he pleased within the compound. He did a little exploring, braced to be reprimanded at any time but no one said a word. Other men were out and about as well. Kyden had gathered a good cross section of fighters from across the Hinterlands for his special season and everyone was curious what life was like here in a Five Systems gladiatorial House. Kyden’s regular team of gladiators was in residence but kept themselves apart from the temporary newcomers.
Dinner was served in a common room, substantial and filling, with no limit on how many servings a man could help himself to. Jamirr didn’t mix with the others but spent his time observing. The Badari didn’t put in an appearance—there was a human in charge of the barracks and a large staff.
He slept well, more at peace than usual, and in the morning rushed to grab a quick breakfast before training began. The House evidently took its conditioning seriously and the regular gladiators joined the new men for a grueling stint of calisthenics and weight training. Jamirr caught a glimpse of Samyra at the edge of the group but had no chance to speak to her.
When the session was done and the men were dispersing, he found himself surrounded by the Badari.
“Oh no, we’re not done,” said Rennyr in a joking tone, pounding Jamirr on the back in greeting. “What we just did there is enough for puny humans but nothing for us. Come on.”
Jamirr took a deep breath. “Of course. What’s on the agenda?”
“First we run,” Talinn said, his neck frills expanding, “And then we have our own obstacle course tucked away in a hidden corner of the property. You’ll love it—we made it as much like the one on our own planet as we could. A true workout for a Badari.”
The four men—Kyden wasn’t present—broke into a run and Jamirr instinctively rushed to catch up. It felt good to let his inner beast run full out. As they sprinted he puzzled over the quartet he was keeping pace with. One word kept replaying in his head every time he looked at Talinn—Tzibir—but he didn’t know what it meant. He could tell the man was a Badari but his faint green scales and the neck frill were unique. And as for Benet, Jamirr was totally at a loss. He was undeniably human, not Badari, but he ran easily, keeping up with the group and once they arrived at the obstacle course it was obvious he had other Badari attributes but how he acquired them was a mystery to Jamirr. He hoped he’d get the story at some point.
His companions spoke to each other in a mix of Basic and the other strange language which his mind told him he knew but couldn’t parse through his amnesia. The syllables were familiar though and produced a kind of comfort in him as he listened. He suspected they were telepathic as well, catching fragments of their voices in his head.
I’m a broken receiver. Remembering how upset he’d been on Porter Three when Kyden attempted to talk to him mind to mind, Jamirr was surprised today not to be bothered by the bits and pieces of chatter he picked up. He wished he could join in. Maybe he was getting used to being with his own kind again.
He’d been braced for them to talk to him about Samyra or about his status as a slave, both of which would be awkward topics. Or even worse, to try to subvert his loyalty to his mistress. None of those subjects came up at all though. It was all brotherly joking and friendly rivalry until they arrived back at the barracks and said their farewells to him.
As he took his shower and dressed in everyday clothes, he thought it was going to be a highly interesting eight weeks.
* * *
As Samyra approached the conference room where she was to meet the PR woman, she heard feminine laughter and entered to find Jaine, Rennyr’s mate-wife and another woman seated at the table. Mentally she dismissed Jaine, although she was hoping no one expected her to sit through the coming meeting as Kyden’s representative. Samyra handled her own business and neither required nor welcomed oversight. The other woman in the room with Jaine was like no one she’d ever met before.
Her green eyes were accented with delicate face paint, lace tracery and her lips were a vibrant red. Her hair was purple and blue, contorted into geometric shapes held with sparkly clips, and her clothing was a sweeping ensemble of reds and pinks, accented with huge appliques, enhanced by an entire spectrum’s worth of rhinestones. When she and Jaine rose to greet her, Samyra noticed the crystal shoes, with appliques and a flower embedded in one heel, a spider frozen forever in the other.
“Oh there you are, Samyra,” Jaine said brightly. “This is Falayla, our special consultant on anything to do with the media.”
Ignoring her outstretched hand, Falayla prowled around her, eyeing her simple tunic and pants and complete lack of makeup.
“Quite a contrast to your arena persona,” she said, arriving in front of Samyra again.
“Falayla is wonderful,” Jaine said. “She designed several outfits for me when I was in the arena a long time ago. I’ll leave the two of you to your task—it was so good to see you again in person.” She patted the consultant on the arm and left the room, closing the door behind her.
“She was in the arena?” Samyra said in disbelief.
“Not by choice,” Falayla said. “But yes, she’s tougher than you imagine. Lord Kyden commissioned me to design your new gladiator costume.”
Anger immediately suffused Samyra’s entire body. “I’ve worn the same uniform since my first fight.”
