Senator Viator’s eyebrows arched in astonishment. “Is this man so good that he can demand such terms from his lanista?”
“Oh, yes indeed,” Marcus replied with a vigorous nod of his head. “Lupus has never lost a match.”
“And I’m sure you have a hefty death compensation fee for him too.” Viator was beginning to lose interest, knowing a high price was about to be named.
Marcus swallowed back his pride for a moment. “If you’ll accept his challenge, I’ll completely waive his death compensation fee.”
“And if he wins?”
Of course, Marcus’s goal was that Lupus would not win. Surely he couldn’t and wouldn’t kill five gladiators taking him on at once. “I would expect you to pay the death compensation fees for four out of the five gladiators who are slain in the arena by Lupus’s hand.”
Viator stroked his chin and thought for a moment, watching the gladiators. When Marcus was sure that the senator was about to deny his proposal, the man turned to him and nodded.
“You have a deal, lanista. Give me your best men and prepare them for the event a week from today. I know it’s short notice, but I’m sure you can manage.”
The senator and his entourage turned and left the ludus, leaving Marcus with stars in his eyes, mulling over the wonderful idea of finally being rid of Lupus once and for all.
The gladiator made him filthy rich, but he was becoming more than he bargained for in the beginning. Lupus proved untamable and Marcus was through with him. One last match and he would wash his hands of the beast.
10
Palazzo Manfredi in Rome Italy, 2015
Howard’s phone buzzed on the hotel nightstand, skittering across the dark polished wood. Thrown from his dreams of gladiators and a pretty history fanatic, he squinted into the darkness.
The clock read that it was nearly midnight. He hadn’t laid his head down for more than an hour before being awakened by this call. With great effort, he pushed the comforter back and snatched the phone up.
It had been three days since he and Marina sat in her living room, combing through her library and he hadn’t heard a single word about what her friend in Verona might have found. He hoped against hope that it was her calling him at this ungodly hour.
It was his father.
Howard’s mind counted back and figured it must have been just around dinnertime back home. His father hadn’t called since Howard left for Italy.
He swiped at the green circle on the screen and answered in a croaking voice, “Hello?”
“Hey, Howard. It’s your father.” The man’s deep voice greeted him like a welcome breeze. Howard felt like he was back home again and could smell the old hardwood floors instead of the crisp lemony scent of the hotel he was in.
“I know it’s you, dad. The phone has caller ID.”
“Right, I forgot.” There was a long pause and Howard grew cranky.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, doing his best mock impression of a steward or servant.
“Don’t get that tone with me,” he scolded. “I was just calling to see how things were coming along. Have you found anything yet?”
Howard slid his legs out from under the sheets and stood beside the bed, knowing he was in for a long phone call. “Not yet. I’m learning about everything except his story.”
Wearing nothing but a pair of old torn up jean shorts for pajamas, he wandering to the window across from his bed and looked out over the amazing view of the colosseum. Amber floodlights illuminated the ancient amphitheater not too far from his hotel. He had his father to thank for the accommodations, but half of him wondered if the expense was necessary. Being so close to the tourist hub of Rome, the hotel charged a substantial nightly fee. Their family could afford the expense, but Howard would have been just as comfortable in a motel outside of town. His father said being close to the history would help. Howard could see why.
“That’s not what you’re there for,” he heard his father’s voice drop an octave. Howard couldn’t see him, but he knew that his father’s eyes must have narrowed into hostile slits as he spoke.
“You know how hard it is to track down a gladiator from the first century?” Howard quipped with a hint of annoyance. He had a good relationship with his father, despite how they bickered now at the witching hour. Their kind of people needed sleep and Howard was sure the time difference had slipped his father’s mind.
“It’s difficult, but it is possible. There’s evidence of them everywhere. Check ancient brothels or poetic accounts of the games for Decimus’s name.”
Howard rolled his eyes. He checked those places already. He’d been in Italy for over a week doing nothing but searching for their ancestor. Leaning his bare shoulder against the window frame, he let his eyes settle on the colosseum, studying its timeless architectural beauty.
“Did you have to do this when you became alpha?” Howard asked, straining to keep his words free of agitation. Although his father didn’t inherit the pack as he would, his father was the founder, the patriarch of the group.
He heard a heavy sigh from the other end and then his father responded with, “I did. But I didn’t bother to start from the beginning. I worked my way backwards and hit a dead end in the medieval ages.”
Howard’s brows furrowed together in confusion. “You never told me about that.”
He could almost hear the whisper of clothes moving against skin as his father shrugged his shoulders. “It never seemed important to tell you. But I’ll tell you all about it when you get back if you’re willing to sit and listen.”
Rolling his eyes again, he leaned his forehead against the cool window glass. “So there was nothing between Decimus and what you found?”
“I’m hoping that you’ll find the link. I only heard of Decimus from another alpha who lives there in Italy.”
Howard straightened up. “Why can’t I just call him up and ask what he found?”
“I tried,” his father replied. “He doesn’t know much either. He only knew what I told you and he heard it from someone else.”
Howard’s shoulders slumped and banged his head against the window frame. He was sure that his father could hear the dull thud on the other end. “He might be able to find all of this better than I can though,” he whined.
“The point is to learn the value of your own ancestry.”
“Are you sure it’s not just a weird alpha arms race to see who can trace their roots the fastest and farthest back?”
Howard had a paranoid suspicion that this reason was precisely why his father was sending him on a wild goose chase half way across the world. But, he had never mentioned it until now. He didn’t want to think that his father was that petty to care about such things.
“No,” his father growled, “that’s not it at all. You have a proud ancestry. Countless times, our family has fallen from high status to rise again, all while still blending into society, and if you expect to be an efficient leader, you need to learn their tricks. If this family or pack should fall on desperate times, you need to be able to step up and show them the way.”
Howard closed his eyes and sighed. He may have thought his father eccentric and hard headed, but foolish was not a word to describe the man he spoke with now. He was nearly four centuries older than Howard and far wiser than anyone he knew. And he couldn’t help but admit that he had a point. If the secret to success lay with Decimus, Howard needed to find out exactly what it was. Not just for his father’s sake, but for his own. Too many people would reply on him for safety and protection.
“How’s Eddie?” Howard asked. He hadn’t heard from his little brother either, which was unusual. Even back home, they saw each other every other day and Howard’s been serenaded by a chorus of crickets since he boarded the plane.
“Eddie’s doing fine.”
There was something guarded about the way his father answered.
“Is he there?”
“No, it’s his night. I know it’s late there, but
I wanted to call before going out to meet everyone.”
Howard inwardly groaned. The pack was gathering without him. What hunts he must have been missing. What fun he wasn’t partaking in because of this quest. Was it really worth it? The bitter loneliness of having no pack, no one who knew him the way his family did was agonizing. He didn’t understand how some could be deviants and live with no support system from their own kind. The wolf within him yearned for the company of others like him. It was what drove him to complete this quest so he could go home where he belonged.
“Well, tell him I said hey. And have him call me. He’s such a history buff, maybe he can be of more help.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him.”
An awkward pause in the conversation seemed to drag on before his father spoke up again. “So, have you met anyone there? Maybe another alpha in Rome or Verona?”
Funny enough, Howard hadn’t met a single one of his kind at all. That familiar buzz in the back of his skull was sorely missed.
And then he remembered Marina and the evening they shared together. They talked well into the night about gladiators and ancient Roman history.
He learned not only about history, but also about her. Their conversations didn’t go as deep to talk about family or their pasts. Howard was careful to maneuver around the subject. But he learned how she had gone to college and majored in history. He laughed at the hilarious tale of how she first came to the museum wearing jeans and a stained blouse for an impromptu interview. They gave her the job anyway because of her qualifications.
And he listened to how she got the scar on the outside of her forearm while climbing a tree as a child. A squirrel had spooked her and Marina came crashing down through five feet of branches before her father caught her. She had to get stitches to patch the wound up. Howard remembered silently wishing in that moment that he had a scar with a story behind it to tell her.
What he did tell her was about graduating with his engineering degree from Wyoming State University and that he usually wouldn’t be caught reading a book about history. He preferred a good crime novel instead. That intrigued her and they began to talk about literature. She wasn’t able to give a lot to the conversation, but he loved the way her eyes sparked with interest at everything he had to say.
By the time Howard had looked at the clock hanging on her living room wall, he was shocked it had become so late. He smiled when he thought of the way she brushed off the fact that it was three o’clock in the morning. She said she would have been up this late anyway.
Before he left that night, she reiterated her promise to call up her friend in Verona and see about those documents. He hadn’t heard from her since. He felt like calling her back to check, but bugging her excessively wouldn’t have been polite. She would call in her own time.
Not an hour passed by without recalling her smile and infectious laughter. Howard knew he needed to be focused on the quest, but Marina unwittingly enchanted him.
“Well, I met this girl,” he made the mistake of saying.
“A girl?” His father sounded startled as if Howard had a close encounter with a vampire or hunter.
“Yeah. She works at a museum here in Rome. I met her on my first day here. She knows a lot about Roman history so she’s been letting me go through her library.”
“Go through her library, huh?”
The insinuating cadence in his father’s voice made him physically wince. He should have never mentioned Marina. Now his father would brag around that Howard had recovered from his last relationship fiasco and had found a foreign rebound. Nothing could be farther from the truth.
“Don’t start getting ideas, dad. She’s just helping me with this research. Nothing more.”
But, there was that slight misunderstanding at her house the other night. She made it clear that she was only interested in his quest for the gladiator and nothing at all in courtship. Even though he could hear her heart beating as fast as a hummingbird’s, Howard decided to take her word for it. It was a disheartening concept to grasp, but for his own sanity, he would have to.
“Uh huh. Sure. Is she pretty?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you, dad.” Howard began pacing across the floor of his hotel suite, crossing from the bathroom to the far window again.
“You’re the one who mentioned her.”
“You’re the one who asked about if I met anyone.”
“And I got a pleasant answer. Do I need to book a second plane ticket for the trip back?”
“Whoa,” Howard barked. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck bristle in agitation. “Let’s get something straight here. I’m not bringing any girl back with me. All I’m bringing back is a souvenir for Eddie and a full account of Decimus’s life here in Italy. That’s all you sent me here for, that’s all I’m doing. I’m not shopping for a mate. And if that’s the whole point of this trip, I’ll pack my bags and be on the next flight back home.”
Howard heard a chair topple over back in Wyoming. “Listen, boy,” his father bellowed. “I was just ribbing you a bit. You don’t have to lose your head. I couldn’t care less if you came home with a grandchild. You’ll stay there in Italy and you’re not coming home until you find out about our ancestor. Got it?”
Unable to fight against the will of his father and his alpha, Howard sat down heavily on the bed and sighed. “Yes, sir.”
Howard’s father rubbed his face and let out a long breath. “I’m sorry. I probably need to eat something before meeting the others.”
“Probably.”
“Call me as soon as you find something?”
“Sure thing.”
Here came the end of the conversation and the phone call. Howard cringed, hoping his father would do what he always did and simple hang up the phone. But he didn’t.
“You know, I’m proud of you, Howie. You’ve stepped up to this like a man and you’re getting things done. I couldn’t find a better man to take care of the pack.”
Howard didn’t know what to say. His father wasn’t the mushy type to gush over someone. He was strong, brave, stern when he needed to be and yet gentle with the kids of the pack, as well as the women. He never reprimanded more than what was required and he didn’t abuse his power as alpha. There weren’t many he could say the same for.
“Thanks, dad.”
“I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Yep. I’ll be seeing ya.”
He heard the heavy click and knew the line had disconnected.
Lowering the phone from his ear, Howard gazed out the window at the colosseum once more. Somehow, Howard thought it looked much better at night than in the day. It was quiet, dormant, untouched by the tourists and mob that clamored to get in every day. Now is when the colosseum appealed to him, under the light of the full moon high in the Italian sky.
Ludus Gladiatorium, 71 AD
Decimus lay silent in the darkness. The heartbeats and steady breathing of both the guards and the other beasts were soothing to his restless spirit.
It had been days since he had a scrap of meat and it was driving him closer to the precipice overlooking madness. He fought tirelessly against the violent beast within him, but he could feel his grip on humanity weakening. Would it be so bad to let the beast loose just for a bit? Or would it be the one thing to push him over that edge? Would he be able to come back from the change or trapped forever in a dormant sleep while the beast wreaked havoc?
His unsheathed claws dug into the soft dirt, kneading in time with his heavy breaths. His nostrils flared, he inhaled as deeply as he could and exhaled just as strongly. As he tried to find peace in the midst of the abyss, he focused on his breathing. Soon, he could hear his own heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears and the rushing of blood in his temples.
Dizziness and nausea was a constant in the lonely cell as the hunger gnawed at his mind and his gut. The weakness he felt was almost overpowering.
Decimus’s meditative state was shattered when a
loud crash rang through his skull. He shuttered at the blast, but when he opened his golden beast eyes, he could see no change in his surroundings.
As his senses adjusted, he realized the crash came from above in the ludus. Guards scrambled above his head and he could hear shouts of confusion. It had to be the middle of the night. The air was cooler underground and the sounds of the city beyond were faint.
A few more intelligible shouts and the two guards in the corridor fled upstairs. He sat frozen, his head leaned against the damp stone and chest cresting with each breath.
And then he smelled it. It was her. Caprasia.
Decimus felt his core tighten and blood sing in his veins. There was only one reason she could be in the ludus.
With great effort, he turned over and nearly fell to his stomach as he tried to make his way towards the bars. He heard the soft shuffling of her sandals and cloak hem as she nearly ran down the corridor to his cell.
“Lup – I mean, Decimus, are you there?” she asked, her voice in a hushed whisper, but Decimus could still hear her just fine.
“Yes,” he cleared his parched throat. “I’m here.”
Being mindful to keep his eyes closed, he gripped the bars and pulled himself closer, exposed skin scraping against the dirt floor. His legs, unwilling to obey his commands, could only curl up beside him, sapped of strength to support the weight of his body to stand.
Caprasia knelt down and he felt the warm touch of her hand upon his. “You sound terrible. Are you ill?” she asked.
Decimus shook his head. “No, not really… Well, yes, I am in a way.” How could he tell her the truth? That he was a monster; deprived of the nutrition he needed to survive. Even now, the scent of her flesh was tempting the beast to emerge. He had just enough will power to force the ravenous animal back, saving Caprasia from a terrifying sight.
“What ails you? I can have my father send you medicine. I’m sure your lanista wouldn’t disapprove.”
The Beast of Verona: Book I of the Decimus Trilogy Page 10