by Cara Lake
Chapter Ten
Rebellion
As Jaro roared, Phenex stood, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “Belial, you challenge me?” he shouted.
“To the death!” came the reply.
Nothing new there, thought Jaro, his fury heating to boiling point, fueling the adrenaline that would keep him alive in this fight. And he would win. There was no doubt. His sights were set on vengeance and even if he died in the process, he would make sure that before he took his last breath, his betrayers would be paid back with blood.
Tendrils of softness approached him, wafting around his skin, ribbons of comfort. She was doing it again. He had felt it earlier, a ripple of compassion, an encircling embrace that emanated from the woman at Lorcan’s side. He rejected her pity. He wanted nothing from her. How dare she goad him the way she had and then presume to be sorry for him! He imagined her laughing with Lorcan over his loss of control, his fury now a raging hurricane repulsing the offered comfort with an explosion of vehemence that viciously spiraled outward, shattering the soothing caress.
As if she could feel it, the redhead flinched. A glistening of tears in her eyes? His momentary distraction was enough for Belial’s man to take advantage. Jaro took a hit to the jaw.
Fuck this! Get a grip. His attention turned to his opponent and pure unadulterated anger kicked in. He was an animal, a predator, and this man was his prey. Jaro flew back at the male, his anger now a seething cauldron of hatred. He grabbed the man around the waist, and the force of Jaro’s momentum sent them both crashing into the walls of the pit. The crowd was screaming in anticipation, a frenzied mob of bloodthirsty animals. Wanting the pain, wanting the suffering. Reveling in it.
The bone-crunching impact momentarily stunned them both and then Jaro found himself under attack again. Belial’s male had registered Jaro’s already bruised and beaten body and focused his attention on the slicing wound at his hip, tearing at it with his hands. The male continued to throw punches at his gut and all Jaro could do was try to defend his battered body.
Tani was having trouble breathing as she watched the drama unfold. She could not believe that even here they would force a man to fight when he was as injured as Phenex’s fighter. She could also not believe that he had rejected her offer to soothe his hurts through her power. It was a blanket she was used to extending whenever she could to those who suffered but it seemed that her offer of help had only made him angry. She could only watch, helpless to do more than pity his predicament. But then again, a man like that, warrior that he was, would have no use for pity and compassion. His was a world of brute strength, survival of the fittest. No mercy.
It was barbaric. Tani could not believe the ferocity of the fight. She could hardly bear to watch as Belial’s male tore Phenex’s apart. That he was still fighting back astounded her, considering the condition he had been in when he entered the pit. An unexpected wave of nausea washed through her. Something about this fight cut her deeply. She had seen many fights, fought in horrific battles and witnessed the aftermath of massacres, but never had her soul cried with such gut-wrenching agony as it did now.
Perhaps the stress of finally meeting her partner duality was causing her emotions to short-circuit. Whatever it was, Tani couldn’t bear to watch the two males rip each other to pieces.
“Lorcan.” She turned to him. “What about your mother, can’t she intervene with Phenex?”
He shook his head. “She hates this particular fighter. She wouldn’t do it.”
Tani frowned at that. Why would Sitri have intense emotions regarding a slave? “For what reason?”
Lorcan sighed and replied, shrugging in regret. “He was once a trusted servant in the house of one of Serpens’s richest families but he abused his position and was charged with theft and the rape of his master’s daughter.” Tani felt sick. The fighter was a rapist, an abuser of women. “Should he not be in prison?” she asked.
“Lady Tanith,” snorted Lorcan. “You are ignorant of Serpens law. Masters can do what they wish with slaves. To kill him would be wasteful. He was punished for his offense but did not learn his lesson. The bastard repeated his crime, raping another young female. He is a double rapist and not to be trusted. Rather than execute him, his master sold him off. Phenex bought him for the fighting pits. He is the lowest of the low and not worth your concern or compassion.” Lorcan turned away.
Yes. The lowest of the low. He was not worth her concern. Yet she could not shake off the ache in her chest as she watched Belial’s fighter pound his fists into the injured male, knocking him off balance. Time and again, he managed to rise. He would not be crushed. Tani fought to remain impassive. Her emotions were all over the place. She glanced at Lorcan’s handsome face as he watched the fight. Maybe meeting him was enhancing aspects of the essence she held. As the Esseni of Love, she had a natural compulsion to feel affection and compassion toward others. Obviously it also extended toward criminals, but she supposed that was her fate. To feel love for all, regardless. Lorcan turned toward her and smiled. “I’d rather you watched me than the fight,” he said. “I’d much rather look at you.”
“Lorcan, I…” She wanted to talk to him about being an Esseni. He had her so conflicted. He was hard to read. One moment his persona was projecting the urbane, wealthy aristocrat that Serpens society saw but at other times the raw, earthy passionate force she knew him to be. He obviously felt he had to hide that side of himself. Lorcan had his secrets just as she did. And she wanted to share, wanted to feel confident enough to let him in. Fear still kept her silent.
A roar erupted from the crowd. Lorcan’s attention claimed by the fight, he turned away and the moment was lost. Tani focused again on the ongoing battle. She was shocked to see that Belial’s male had his back against the wall and Phenex’s fighter, the rapist, was driving into him a series of punches that had his opponent’s head whipping around as blood gushed from his mouth. How had he gained the upper hand? Why was this man still on his feet? It was astounding. Crimson ran from the wound at his hip and his whole body, from his head down, was swollen red and raw where he had been hit time and again. How he could even see with his face a fleshy mound of contusions was beyond her comprehension. Still, he was standing and his opponent was crashing to the ground.
Phenex’s male staggered, straightening his back in defiance, standing to face the box where Tani sat. His opponent stayed down, barely moving. Phenex roared approval at his fighter’s win, the partisan crowd stamping their feet in triumphant euphoria. As Phenex stood, the spectators fell silent in anticipation, their lust for blood insatiable. Belial stood to face Phenex. The tension between the two warlords was obvious as each eyed the other with hostility.
“Do you concede, Belial?” Phenex’s tone was arrogant, as if he’d fought the battle himself. Belial was seething with anger but could only reply in one way. “Yes, Lord Phenex. I concede.”
“You concede your man is mine to do with as I will.”
Tani could feel Belial’s teeth grinding as he replied, “I do.” Phenex clapped his hands and a slave appeared carrying a tray. On the tray lay two objects, a dagger and a pitcher of water. Tani’s heart stopped as she realized the implication. Phenex took what seemed like an eternity as he perused the objects, ramping up the tension for the crowd until he finally grabbed the knife. The crowd screeched in agreement, baying for blood. He tossed the knife to his victorious fighter who hadn’t moved a muscle.
The knife fell at his feet. As he bent to pick it up, Tani caught a surge of seething hatred rolling off the man, radiating outward in every direction, his contempt for them all a black coat of pitch. He stood grasping the dagger by his side as he lifted his head to acknowledge his master’s order. She felt the heat of his gaze, felt his eyes fall on her even though she couldn’t see them, his face so swollen now it hurt to look at it. Another wave of anger directed at her. Instinctively, Tani tried to soothe the vicious fury—her soul shuddering at the absolute purity of the vehemence directed towa
rd her. It wasn’t just toward her; it couldn’t be just for her—could it? It was just that she could feel it. As an Esseni, she could register strong emotion in others but she couldn’t shake the sensation that the fighter’s fury was directed very personally toward her.
Phenex’s man lifted the dagger and paused, looking down at his fallen opponent. He would have to stab him in the back, an ignoble way for a warrior to die. He lifted his arm. The knife flew out of his hand and landed in the wooden chair back not two inches from Phenex’s head. A roar of disbelief from the crowd and Phenex bellowing to his guards to grab the fighter.
The pit was in uproar, the crowd’s chants for blood reaching fever pitch. Phenex jumped down into the pit where his men held the victor on his knees. Tani watched in horror as the nightmare unfolded. The guards were pulling Belial’s man to his knees as well and then both men were in front of Phenex. At his mercy.
Phenex grabbed his own fighter by the hair and spat in his face. “You defy me once too often, fool!” he spluttered and slammed a fist into his jaw. The man’s head snapped around so hard Tani was surprised to see it still attached to his body. In fact, he raised his head up again in challenge, appearing to have no notion of humility. Either he was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
Tani could hardly bear to watch, her revulsion increased by the blatant bloodlust of the assembled spectators. She glanced at Lorcan. He too appeared mesmerized by the spectacle. He turned suddenly and caught her gaze. Shrugging, he took her hand. “There’s nothing you can do, Lady Tanith, don’t feel bad. This is the way of it here. Someone has to die.”
Tani looked around. He was right. The expectation of all was for blood. They were clamoring for it. Yes, the fighter was a rapist. And as far as she could see he had been punished for his crime. But did he deserve this? Her heart sped up. He was going to die and something inside her couldn’t reconcile that fact. It was just wrong.
Phenex reached for his sword, punching it into the air on the crest of the chanting crowd. “Death! Death! Death!” The crescendo increased in intensity. Phenex stood behind both men as they knelt. He lifted the sword and sliced it downward, separating a dark head from a body that sagged and crumpled to the ground, a scarlet river spreading across the dirt, pooling at his feet. Stamping. Chanting. Frenzy.
Tani hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. The head rolled to a standstill, stopping at Phenex’s feet. He lifted it into the air to the euphoric cries of the spectators. Air burst from her lungs as breath sawed from her chest in ragged bursts. The chill that gripped her soul was an icy clawing hand.
Belial’s male stared at her with dull eyes, mouth wide open in the shocked agony of death as Phenex held the head triumphantly toward the gallery where she sat. Lorcan squeezed her hand in sympathy. “Are you all right, my lady?” Concern in his tone. “This must be very disturbing for you. I’m surprised Morana brought you here.”
“I’m fine,” she replied as calmly as she could while trying to stick to her cover story as a cosseted society lady. “We have these gladiatorial battles where I come from too. Just not to the death.”
Her eyes remained fixed on the pit, on the remaining fighter, relief at his survival overwhelming the horror of the other man’s death. Why that should be, she couldn’t say and didn’t want to consider. Tani kept her eyes focused on the kneeling man who had not flinched even when the threat of Phenex’s sword had hovered over him. His stillness absolute. His defiance a victory.
Phenex was still riding the wave of his actions, inciting the crowd to further riotousness as he finally tossed the head toward Belial who growled in rage as he caught it in his hands. His threats of revenge unheeded by Phenex, Belial turned on his heel and exited, fury evident in his eyes.
Victorious in the humiliation of his rival, Phenex turned again toward the kneeling man, smashing a fist into his face to the delight of the mob. Again the man remained upright. Phenex motioned to his guards who grabbed him and dragged his abused body to a wooden post at the back of the pit. Tani gasped in disbelief as she realized what was about to happen. “Lorcan…is he going to…whip him?”
“He disobeyed a command, Lady Tanith, and almost killed his master. It has to be so,” said Lorcan. “Phenex is merciful not to have taken his head. It is regretful that he will be beaten but remember—he is a criminal, a hardened unrepentant one. He would show no mercy to you if you fell into his clutches.”
Tani turned toward Lorcan. His tone suggested sympathy but as she looked there was a glint in Lorcan’s eyes that almost appeared to relish what was about to happen. Perhaps it was his innate sense of justice. She had seen him feeding the poor; he would certainly sympathize with this man’s victims. We reap what we sow.
At the same time Tani caught a glimpse of Sitri’s face. Her expression of gleeful enjoyment in what was about to happen evident and mirroring that of her son. Tani was not surprised to see Sitri’s sadistic tendencies but she also realized that Sitri had probably known the girls he had abused and was entitled to feel some satisfaction in his punishment. Why then did Tani feel this weight of oppression crushing her chest at the thought of what was to come? She was a warrior herself, honed in battle and had seen men punished before for heinous crimes. This should be no different. Somehow it was.
Tani could feel her blanket of protection sliding away from her and moving across the pit toward the man. He would still suffer but perhaps she could soften the blows with her compassion. The force of his rejection slammed into her once more and even though she didn’t want to, Tani had to admit defeat. Some people just wouldn’t be helped.
She tried to harden her heart but couldn’t help flinching as the first whiplash cut through his already swollen flesh. It was as if the sharp slice of the lash was tearing into her soul just as it tore into the man’s bone. It was confusing that she should be so affected by this punishment and Tani couldn’t stop the tears burning in her eyes from spilling onto her cheeks.
A soft hand wiped away the moisture. “Show no emotion, Tanith.” It was Morana. “You cannot afford for them to suspect your tender heart.”
Tani’s eyes met Morana’s. There was so much understanding in her gaze that Tani was shocked into silence. “I never suspected you had a heart,” she finally replied and then bit her lip as she realized that might have been unwise.
Morana shrugged. “I don’t, but you do. Reveal it and it will be your downfall. Never expose yourself in public like this. You never know who could be watching.” She turned away, leaving Tani even more confused about Morana and her motives. The thwack of the whip crunching into bone again forced her gaze back to the pit. She realized that no sound had emanated from the fighter and that the crowd had gone deathly quiet. From respect? Admiration?
Twenty lashes, each one a slicing barb to her soul. Each one cutting deeper than the last. They seemed to last an eternity and then it was over. The guards untied his hands from above his head. Expecting to see him fall, the crowd gasped in wonder as the man staggered but remained standing. He lifted his head toward Phenex and the aristocrats in the gallery, once more in defiance of their authority. Slowly, one step at a time, he dragged himself out of the pit and into the blackness of the tunnel, watched in silence by a stunned and awestruck crowd.
Chapter Eleven
Avarice
“I want the girl.”
Phenex’s voice drifted in the stillness of the stale air swamping the tunnels that ran from the pit. Jaro lay prone, his stomach pressed into the rough pallet, barely conscious, his mind drifting. His back, open to the air, shredded by the slicing barbs of the whip felt as if sharp nails were gouging relentlessly into skin and bone. No one had bothered to clean or tend to his wounds. Twenty lashes. Twenty fucking lashes. What was he thinking? He should have stabbed his opponent in the back. Chaos forbid he would ever do whatever Phenex wanted. It wasn’t the first time he had disobeyed and wouldn’t be the last. He was such an idiot.
Mercy. Why had he shown mercy? He had
shown mercy a few months ago, refusing to kill a female his masters wanted dead. What had it got him? More scars, torture, whippings. He had been beaten on a daily basis for a month, salt rubbed into his wounds to ensure excruciating agony and permanent reminders of his folly. He was glad he couldn’t see his back. He knew it looked like hell.
“What will you give me for her?” Jaro’s brain jerked to awareness at the sound of his brother’s voice. Phenex growled, “Thirty thousand.”
“Not enough,” Lorcan laughed. “Consider that red hair, my lord. She is exquisite, unique, with that hair and those eyes. I am almost tempted to keep her for myself.”
“You cannot keep her, she is an Esseni and as such Choronzon will want her eventually. But I want her first. I’ll give you fifty.”
“Better.” Jaro could hear the arrogance in Lorcan’s voice. “But you’ll give me a hundred thousand if you want her that much. There are other interested parties.”
“Who?” Phenex rasped angrily.
“Belial, for one.” Lorcan’s tone was smooth. He was enjoying toying with Phenex. “That mongrel cur son of a bitch! Done. I’ll give you a hundred. How soon can I have her?”
“A couple of days. I will need to make sure her disappearance is covered up or the Eunomi will send in warriors to search for her. Morana, as we both know, would willingly sell her whereabouts to them.”
“True. I will need to deal with that bitch Morana very soon.”
“Fifty now and fifty on delivery.” Jaro could hear the avarice dripping from Lorcan’s lips. “Deal!” Footsteps echoed on bare concrete as they moved away, the sound of their voices becoming muffled as the distance increased.
Jaro snorted where he lay, the slight movement stinging his flesh, his wounds raw and biting. So much for Lorcan’s bitch. She couldn’t have been that good if he was willing to sell her off. Still—a hundred thousand was a lot for a whore. And he had had a taste for free, hadn’t he? Heat infused his veins as he thought back to their encounter in the alley. Fuck! How many times had that moment replayed in his mind? It was a constant loop he couldn’t erase. His anger at her increased. She had played him for a fool. Well, she would get what she deserved. Phenex was known to be brutal with his whores.