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I settled on nothing personal about me, but I wanted to see his reaction to what the slavers were doing. This, more than anything, would reveal his true intentions.
“The slavers kidnapped thirty of us,” I said in the flattest, most businesslike tone I could manage. “Put translators in our ears, injected something into the backs of our necks, put us in these clothes, and showed us what the pain sticks were used for. Then they lined us up, and we started marching.”
His eyes tightened. “Did they tell you where they were taking you?”
“Sector seven. That’s what they called it. And then drop off the remaining women to sector one.”
“Tagah,” he growled.
“What istagah?”
“This is a bad word we use when things are going wrong.” He ran his hands through his hair.
“Anyway,” I continued, “from what I heard, they plan to sell us to the Gladiators like you…”
He shook his head. “No. Not like me.”
I pursed my lips before continuing. “The slavers consider us sex slaves.”
He started pacing. “I cannot believe that someone is doing business with the slavers in sector one.”
“Well, believe it,” I replied. “The order is for twelve women. Six of us have died so far, and seven more are on their last legs.”
“And coming to my sector,” he yelled before glaring at me.
Inching back a bit, I took in his menacing stance. This alien was terrifying when he wanted to be.
As if sensing my trepidation, his body relaxed. “Amara.” His deep voice sent an unexpected shiver through me as he spoke my name.
He continued, “Please don’t fear me. I mean you no harm.”
“Uh-huh.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “It angers me what the slavers are doing. Treating females in this manner is not the Gladiators’ way.”
“So you claim,” I replied skeptically. He arched a brow. “It’s just… your words contradict the present shituation.”
“Shituation? I don’t understand that word.”
“Tagah,” I replied, sitting up straighter against the tree.
“Ah.” He smiled. “I understand now.”
“You said that you’re from sector seven, right?” I asked, so he understood that nothing he’d told me so far escaped me. He nodded. “So you’re a Gladiator from a sector that has purchased human females. Now tell me why I should trust you?”
He sighed heavily. “I make no excuse for this deplorable act, Amara. For many sun cycles, I have spoken against the slavers and their activities. It disgusts me they are exploiting a social problem suffered by my brethren.”
I watched his strange, almost human-looking face, and wondered how much of his outrage was real. “Yeah, well, I hope that’s true. There are still over twenty women left captive, and they need help.”
“And so do you,” he insisted before striding over and digging into his pack with one of his hands. “You’re exhausted, wounded, sick. You need to recover.”
I wanted to argue, almost instinctively. If I stayed here resting longer, the caravan would move farther away, and I would have slimmer chances of catching up with them before they reached sector one and were handed over to their new owners.
Flexing one of my feet experimentally, I hissed as pain jolted up my leg.
Damn it, I can’t even walk. There’s no way I can go anywhere until I recover.
“You need to heal,” he chided gently. “I bandaged your feet, but there’s little more I can do for you until the bottoms heal. Most of the skin is gone from them.”
