Weapons Master Galactic Gladia - Anna Hackett Page 0,41

with a disguise that was kick ass. Quinn brought her fighting leathers. Ever delivered an outfit that the king’s people had sent. All the women stopped by to wish her luck.

“You’re doing this for all of us,” Simone said. “And everyone we lost on the Helios, and Fortuna Station. Everyone who died at Bari Batu.”

“Hell, yeah.” Bellamy clasped the woman’s hand, and then hugged her. The other women all moved in, and they shared a huge group hug.

Bellamy had never had loads of girlfriends. She’d always been one of the boys. But this felt nice. Real nice.

She pulled on the fighting leathers, then a rich, red robe with gold cord for a belt over the top. The fabric was soft and expensive—fit for the entourage of a king. Some interesting bronze jewelry—a hammered necklace and bracelets—completed the look.

Then she headed out to meet the rest of the team.

As she approached, she saw the cyborgs were dressed a little different than her. Jax, Maxon, Zaden, and Seren were all in fighting leathers, but the men had a purple sash across their bare chests and Seren’s went over her fitted, leather halter top. They all had bronze gauntlets wrapped around their forearms.

“Look at you guys,” Bellamy said.

They turned.

Maxon saw her and scowled. He strode up to her and lifted her off her feet.

“Hey, Ace.”

He fingered her new ponytail, his scowl deepening. Avarn had stimulated her hair to grow, and changed the color to black. It was now just past her shoulders and the color of coal.

Maxon touched the corner of her eye. They were now gray, not green. Then his hands slid down her bare arms. There were no signs of her tattoos.

“Avarn has some kick-ass tech for creating disguises.”

Maxon grunted.

“Hey, I’m still me. My hair and eyes can be changed back. My ink is still there, just hidden under dermal-something-or-other.”

She felt some of the tension in his body ease.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Drak, no, but let’s get it done.”

They turned, and Magnus’ neon gaze swept over the group.

“Go. Rillian’s ship will take you to meet Rhain’s entourage in the desert. Mace, Acton, Toren, Quinn and I are going to join Galen’s team. We’ll be close. Be careful and good luck.”

Bellamy lifted her chin. She didn’t need luck, she had the House of Rone.

He hated tarnids.

Maxon wrinkled his nose and held the reins of the beast loosely.

Rhain’s entourage moved slowly through the desert. Several people were holding banners, as they rode six-legged tarnids—the beast of burden of choice in the desert. The rest of the entourage were hard-eyed, battle-hardened guards.

He and the other cyborgs were dressed to match the guards—fighting leathers with a twist of purple fabric, swords on their backs, and daggers at their hips. Maxon had plenty of his own weapons tucked away in his waistband.

He also had several stealth weapons hidden around his body, along with some explosives.

It always paid to be prepared.

He looked sideways. Bellamy was on her own tarnid and smiling. Enjoying herself.

He drakking hated her black hair and changed eyes. He hated that she had to hide. He reminded himself that it wasn’t permanent, and that this would be over soon.

Then, he felt a ripple of very unfamiliar fear. He locked it down. He saw that despite enjoying the ride, Bellamy was hiding her nerves. She was smiling, but her hands were constantly moving on the tarnid’s reins.

And his intuition was screaming at him. An impending sense of doom had settled on him like a heavy cloak. They were headed into danger and he knew their mission wouldn’t go as planned.

Bellamy sucked in a breath and her gaze arrowed straight ahead.

He turned and saw the glimmer of Bari Batu in the distance. The towers of the city rose out of the sand like the fingers of someone drowning in a trap.

And then he saw the battle arena.

It was oval-shaped, its walls rising high out of the sand. It was made of dark-gray metal, banded here and there with rusted parts and large screws and rivets. Curved metal sheets made up the roof, covering the track itself.

Bellamy stared at it.

“Bellamy?”

She jolted. “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

She wasn’t. He hated her being anywhere near this place. “You’re not okay.”

She swallowed. “I’m a little bit not all right, but once I destroy that place, I will be.”

As they got closer, he saw more travelers heading into the arena. Sandsuckers. Going to watch innocent people die.

“This time, you aren’t alone,” he said.

She reached out and grabbed his hand. “You’re going to

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