Cage Match (4 page)

blade lowered long enough for the other man to pierce his defense and leave another

cut, this time on his biceps above the wrist guard. Jabez flinched away. Before he‟d

recovered, the blade stabbed toward him again.

Jabez raised his shield, deflecting the blow. The impact dragged his arm down,

and his opponent took advantage, kicking Jabez in the chest and knocking him onto his

back in the sand. His adversary kicked again, and the toe of his boot connected hard

with Jabez‟s temple. Pain exploded through his head, blurring his vision, and Jabez

knew he was only seconds away from feeling that blade pierce his gut.

He resorted to the street-fighting tactics that had helped him survive long before

he learned to use a sword. Grabbing a handful of sand, Jabez threw it into the other

man‟s face, then swung his blade, knocking his sword out of his hand.

While the man choked and blinked, Jabez scrambled to his knees and thrust

upward with all his might, driving the point of his blade deep into his opponent‟s

abdomen. He felt the skin shear away beneath the knife and the resistance of muscle

beneath. Blood sprayed over Jabez in a fountain as he drove the sword in to the hilt.

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Bonnie Dee

He met the man‟s gaze, saw his eyes widen in shock, then glaze over and go dark.

He staggered backward, clutching at his stomach before toppling onto the ground.

Panting, Jabez blinked away the blackness that shrouded his vision. The pain in

his head broke over him in waves. The roar of the crowd swelled louder and louder and

combined with the rush of blood in his ears. His gut churned, and the world whirled

around him as he lost consciousness and fell, face forward, onto the blood-soaked sand.

* * * * *

he‟d ever lived had smelled so sweet.

Jabez listened before opening his eyes, taking stock of the noises around him. Air

blew softly—fresh air from an open window bringing birdsong into the room. There

were the quiet creaks of an unfamiliar house, the music of trickling water, and a low,

metallic gonging he couldn‟t place.

He peered through his eyelashes at the room around him, a bedroom painted

white like clouds. Where the fuck was he? The rustle of something moving made him

close his eyes again, feigning sleep.

“You‟re awake. How do you feel?”

No use pretending. He opened his eyes and blinked against the sunlight‟s soft

glow through sheer white curtains. The young man with silver eyes sat beside the bed

on which Jabez lay. He‟d been so still, Jabez hadn‟t heard him breathing.

“My name is Andreas.”

Jabez automatically scanned him for weapons, then swept his gaze around the

room, searching for something he could use as a weapon if need be.

The man leaned toward him and rested a hand on his arm. “You‟re safe here.

You‟re at my house.”

Jabez resisted the urge to pull away. Instead, he brought his gaze back to Andreas

and stared at him with all the intimidation he could muster while lying flat on his back.

He was pleased to see the leap of the other man‟s Adam‟s apple as he swallowed.

“Why?” His voice cracked on the single word, and he realized his mouth was as

dry as the sand of the arena.

“I want to learn fighting skills, so I paid off the rest of your contract and engaged

you as my personal trainer.”

Jabez continued to gaze at Andreas while he waited for the words to stop

swimming around in his foggy mind and make sense. He must be on some powerful

drugs. At last, he was able to pin down the meaning of the words and formulate a

response. “I work for you.”

“Yes.” A small smile played over the man‟s mouth, making it dimple at the

corners.

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15

Jabez glanced down at his wrists. No manacles, and his ID cuff had been removed.

There was nothing to stop him from rising from this bed, knocking the slender man in

the chair unconscious, and walking from the room—nothing except the fog that

clouded his mind and the pain in his arm and abdomen that loomed like rocks

somewhere in that fog. He was injured and going nowhere until he‟d recovered, so he

might as well enjoy the soft bed.

Jabez watched his new boss‟s fingers drum against his leg. Although the man‟s

posture was relaxed, legs crossed, body sunk into the deep chair, the nervous tapping

betrayed him.

“Why me?”

Andreas cleared his throat. “I‟ve seen you fight twice now. You‟re good. I want to

learn fighting skills from the best.”

Fighting. Right. Jabez could guess what other skills of his the man wanted, but

better to be some spoiled, rich guy‟s fuck toy than bleed to death on the arena floor.

He started to push himself to a sitting position. Waves of dizziness forced him

back onto the pillows with a groan. “How‟d I get here?”

“After the match, they carried you off to the infirmary. I went to see the

management about buying your contract, then had you transported here. You‟ve been

out for about eight hours. My personal physician is tending you. He says you‟ll be all

right.” He waited a moment for Jabez to respond, and when he didn‟t, Andreas went

on.

“This will be your room. You‟ll have access to any part of the house or grounds

you want. I want you to feel like an employee, not a…an indentured servant.”

“But I‟m your slave, right?”

Andreas‟s face flushed, and his gaze dropped. “No. It‟s not like that.”

Jabez grunted and looked around his new cell with its clean white walls and plush

furniture. His gaze stopped at the open window. Fluttering curtains framed an achingly

blue sky and the top boughs of a tree. He hadn‟t seen the sky in almost a year and

hadn‟t seen a sky this clear ever. Where he‟d lived, there‟d always been a pall of smog

and towering buildings boxing him in.

“They told me your name is Jabez, but they didn‟t have a last name for you.”

“Never needed one.”

The other man cocked his head and studied him. “You have no family?”

The image of a girl with ragged brown hair and a throaty chuckle flashed in his

mind. She hit him in the arm and called, “
You’re it
!” before disappearing into the crowd.

“No,” he answered.

“Mm.” The long fingers
tap-tap-tapped
against his leg. Jabez wanted to grab his

hand and stop the tapping. He wanted to suck one of those long fingers into his mouth

and shock the man into silence. His cock hardened at the fantasy, despite the drugs

dulling his senses.

16

Bonnie Dee

“What‟s your last name?” Jabez asked to break the tension.

There was a moment‟s pause before he answered, “Fortias. I‟m Andreas Fortias.”

The name sifted through his consciousness like the fine powder floating from the

converter plants and blanketing the streets of Brick Town.

“Fortias,” he repeated before the name suddenly clicked into place. Shock froze

his tongue for a moment. He‟d known the man was rich, but hadn‟t imagined he was

corporate royalty.

Jabez studied Andreas more closely, from the loose fall of black curls around his

fine-featured face down to his body clad in shimmering garments of green and gold.

The name Fortias was stamped on most products at the stores and appeared in ads all

the time. It was emblazoned on business and civic buildings across the city. Fortias

meant power, wealth, and privilege.

He met Andreas‟s silvery gaze once more. “Should I call you „Master‟ or „Your

Highness‟?”

“Andreas is fine.” He offered another smile with those intriguing brackets around

his mouth, but his fingers went
tap-tap-tap
. He was more nervous than he let on. “I‟m

putting my trust in you. You won‟t find a better work situation out there.” Andreas

nodded his head to signify the world outside the window. “Legally, you‟re bonded to

me for the next few years, but if you work well with me and prove your loyalty, I might

let you out of your contract sooner and with a generous stipend. Does that sound fair?”

Oh it
sounded
fair, all right, but words were lies. No one could be trusted.

Jabez nodded. The slight movement of his head made him dizzy again. His ears

rang, and he squeezed his eyes closed.

“This is a lot to take in all at once, I imagine.” Andreas‟s voice pulsed loud, then

soft with the throbbing in Jabez‟s head. “You must be thirsty. Let me give you

something to drink.”

Suddenly the man‟s hand was at the back of his neck, lifting his head. Jabez

opened his eyes in surprise as a glass of water was pressed to his lips. When the cool

liquid touched them, he drank automatically. Nothing had ever tasted so good. The

water washed down his wasteland of a throat, and the warm hand supporting his neck

offered more comfort than he‟d ever known.

It pissed him off. He jerked away from the gesture of kindness, bumping the glass

so water spilled on his chest.

“I‟m sorry.” Andreas wiped the water from his chest with the sleeve of his silky

shirt. “You get some more rest now, or if you‟re hungry, I‟ll bring you something to eat

from the kitchen.” He continued to speak in that quiet, soothing voice that made Jabez

even angrier.

“No,” he snapped, refusing both the food and the false compassion. He was here

for one reason only: to provide amusement for a bored, jaded playboy. To believe

anything else was to be a fool.

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17

“All right then. I‟ll leave you alone for a while so you can go back to sleep. There‟s

a com by the bedside. If you need anything, just call.”

Jabez already had his eyes closed. He listened to the soft pad of footsteps crossing

the room and the door closing quietly. Had Andreas locked it behind him? He didn‟t

care enough to climb out of bed and find out. For now, he‟d remain in this gilded cage

and gather his strength until he could fly again.

18

Bonnie Dee

Chapter Three

Andreas‟s stomach had been upset since the moment he‟d made his impulsive

decision to buy Jabez and take him home. When he‟d seen the man sprawled on the

bloodstained sand of the arena, a half-dead victor, he‟d been seized with the desire to

save him. The vague plan that he‟d entertained since the previous evening to hire him

as a servant became concrete. Leaving the stands, he‟d gone in search of management to

find out if “his” gladiator was alive or dead. Since he‟d come to the fights without

Timon or any of his other friends, there was no one to sway him to reason, so his

overwhelming need to save this man took over.

Money and the Fortias name got Andreas exactly what he wanted, as they always

did, but now that he had the rough warrior sleeping in his spare bedroom, he was a

little terrified by his rash decision. Uncaged, the man could murder him, steal whatever

he could grab, and run away.

On the other hand, he appeared to be as worn and weak as a sick puppy. It wasn‟t

likely he‟d try to go anywhere soon. Hopefully, by the time he was healed, he‟d realize

it was to his advantage to work for Andreas rather than break the law and end up back

on the streets of Brick Town, where he‟d probably come from.

Andreas drew a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He picked up the breakfast

tray he was personally delivering to Jabez—no point in exposing Mrs. Gamble to his

experiment in social reform—and carried it upstairs. He paused in front of the spare

bedroom, balanced the tray awkwardly with one hand, and knocked on the door.

There was a long pause, long enough that Andreas began to wonder if his guest

was still sleeping or if he‟d taken off out the window before that low, rough voice

finally growled, “Come in.”

Andreas inhaled and muttered, “Open,” and the door slid into the wall, granting

him access. His lips were numb, as if he‟d had a shot of painkiller, and he worked to

curve them into a friendly smile as he walked toward his patient.

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19

Jabez sat up in the bed, the sheet pooled around his waist and the rest of his torso,

except where bandaged, gloriously naked. His skin was sleek yet marked by numerous

pale scars, the badges of his victories.

“Good morning. I didn‟t think you‟d sleep the night through. You must be

starving.”

“How do you know I slept all night? You watch me?” Killer blue eyes burned into

him.

“No. I just looked in once before I went to bed. I assumed you didn‟t wake up,

because you never used the communicator.”

Jabez glanced at the device on the nightstand, then back at Andreas. “I need to

piss.”

“The bathroom‟s there.” Andreas nodded with his head and set the tray on the

foot of the bed. “Do you need help getting up?”