Blood on Sand

SKIN AND BONES

Wojtek braced himself before turning the corner to his kitchen. Satul had obviously spent the night, and he could smell both him and the crawler in there. He was in no mood for having breakfast with either of them, but he'd be damned if he'd be forced out of his own home just because of a stupid deal with Tedor.

He took a deep breath, crossed the threshold, and stopped dead in his tracks. What the fuck? Laughter escaped his mouth before he even knew what he was doing. "What the hell, Satul! Were you afraid he'd outmanoeuvre you or something?"

The lizardian was trussed to one of the kitchen chairs with a thick rope Wojtek didn't even know he owned. Though his emaciated body looked harmless, his eyes were made of steel—dark and filled with hatred.

"No, he tried to behead himself with a kitchen knife."

Wojtek wanted to smack himself on the head. How had he missed the scent of blood? His gaze focused on the plaster on that slender neck. He really wasn't more than skin and bones. How the hell had he been able to fight? But no matter how fragile his small body looked, Wojtek knew it was the host of a great warrior.

The chair he pulled from the table screeched on the limestone flooring as he put it in front of the reptilian. "Let me make one thing clear..." He searched for a name. Had they named him? He had to have a name right?

"His name is Zoe," Satul provided.

Zoe? Could've been worse, could've been a series of hissing sounds. "Let me make one thing clear, Zoe. I'm running a lucrative business here, and I don't give a crap about your personal problems. If you do anything to interfere with the way I'm running it, I will care a great deal. And taking your life would be interfering with it, do you understand?"

The tip of Zoe's tongue peeked out between his lips before quickly disappearing into his mouth again. Wojtek growled. Just seeing the tip of that tongue angered him, somehow. This runt of a man was a fucking crawler; he should know his place.

"You think I might kill you myself, don't you?"

The claws prickled in his fingertips and his vision turned into that partial colour-blindness it had when he was in his shifted form. "Let me tell you one thing, if you so much as break a nail while you're under my roof, I'll force-feed you raw meat and keep you in the cellar, unless it's Friday—then you'll fight."

The worthless piece of shit had the nerve to smile. "You think that scares me? It's hardly any different from what you've done on a daily basis since I got here. Just put me in the ring. I'll fight on Friday."

Wojtek launched. He wasn't aware of doing so until he heard the seams in his T-shirt rip. Fuck, it was his favourite werewolf shirt. The print was completely wrong of course, but that was what made it funny. And now the crawler had ruined it.

His clawed hand closed around Zoe's neck, both of them hitting the floor as the chair Zoe was tied to toppled over. Hot blood coursed through Wojtek's veins as the Mohawk-styled hair he wore as a human continued to grow down his back and ended in a furry tail. He snarled in Zoe's face, close enough for his fangs to almost graze the skin on Zoe's cheek.

A forked tongue flicked out between those plump lips. Next, Wojtek saw Zoe's pupils turn into slits, followed by both eyes becoming a blueish colour with snaking blood vessels all over. Fascinating. Up close, the pale skin turned to the beautiful green of the warrior. Scales emerged all at once, and the face rearranged itself.

"Have we proven that the big bad wolf can best the malnourished, anaemic, tethered lizard now?"

Satul didn't look pleased with Wojtek's loss of control. And why should he? It wasn't like he had planned on ripping the head off the reptilian he'd just threatened about harming himself. He snarled one more time just for the sake of it before he climbed off Zoe and walked out of the kitchen—claws tapping on stone tiles and clothes hanging in rags from his body.

****

So close! Blood trickled down his throat for the second time this morning. It had been so close. If he'd only managed to anger the monster a little more, it would all have been over now. He shouldn't have changed either, but it sort of just happened when it turned into a combat situation.

"Don't worry about Wojtek. That won't happen again." Satul went back to the fruit plate he'd been preparing, obviously not wanting to acknowledge that Zoe didn't worry, that he wanted to die. He placed the plate on the table and went to raise the chair with Zoe still tied to it. "You really don't weigh much." He pushed Zoe closer to the table and helped him get his arms free. He was still tied to the chair, though. "How much do you weigh when you're healthy?"

Zoe stared at him. Did he really think that he would answer while in warrior form? This guy seemed nice, but Zoe knew he was just as involved in running the arena as the rest of them. He would not be giving up information that wasn't necessary. To talk about food was one thing—he really was only one step away from starving to death—but if he told them about his need for heat and humidity it would only make things worse. Their little breeding project, as they called it, didn't work because no one could reproduce in the living conditions of the slave quarters. And all the lizardians wanted to keep it that way.

"Yeah, I guess it's stupid to ask questions right now."

Zoe ignored him, picked up a piece of apple, and popped it into his mouth. Sweet juice coated his tongue as he chewed. The aroma filled his senses, the taste of richness and freedom made his heart quicken. Oh, what a foul trick to serve him delicious fruit.

He ate it all, not caring if Satul stared at him. If he thought he'd have a change of heart over some fruit, he'd be deeply disappointed when Zoe's blood smeared all over the beautiful sand-coloured tiles of this floor the next time they let him close to a knife. Or maybe he'd wait until Friday and die in the pit—go out with an audience.