by Ines Johnson
I advanced, slashing his shirt open and exposing that glorious bronzed work of art. He looked down at the damage I’d done.
“Now, if I did that to you it would be considered sexist,” he said.
“I don’t make the rules.”
I took a moment to admire my handiwork. And then, that was it. I was done playing. I had a job to do, and I was ready to do it. Well, I was ready to win this battle to get to the ring. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to lose Lenny to the war.
And then it happened. Baros flicked his wrist. His blade glinted in the arena’s spotlight as it advanced on me. But I ducked and rolled out of his reach. He didn’t follow me down as he could’ve. He stayed standing, his blade pointing at me. Mine pointed at him as well.
It looked like a stalemate, but it was so much more. It was a parry sixte avec riposte. He’d done it again.
He was looking at me with that soft expression. It was beyond the pride that a teacher had for a student. He looked at me like I was precious. Like I meant something to him.
I came to stand. As I did, my blade pressed into his flesh. His pressed into mine.
“Stop,” called Gyges. “Stop.”
Without taking our gazes off each other, Baros and I did as we were told. We lowered our blades, but we did not step away from each other.
“I’m intrigued,” said Gyges as he came into the arena. “I want to see this little soap opera continue for the amusement of all. I’m calling a draw. You both advance.”
At first, there was silence as we all processed his words. And then there were cheers that rose to the dome of the arena. So loud, I wondered if the tourists milling about above could hear it. When I turned back to the center of the ring, Baros was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
“Did you see where he went?”
“Did you see where she went?”
Geraint scratched his chin. I scrubbed my fingers through my hair. Then finally, in the silence, where we both were waiting for the other to respond, our gazes connected.
“Who?” I asked.
“Enid,” he said. “I saw her in the crowd when your match ended. Who are you talking about?”
“Baros, of course. That’s who we’re here looking for. Not to try to get you laid.”
Geraint’s gaze, which had been bouncing around the arena, jerked back to me. “I’m not trying to date her,” he said through clenched teeth. “I need to see if she’s okay. I wounded her.”
“And what? You want to find her to kiss it better?”
“See.” He snapped. “There.” He pointed his index finger at me. “That wit you think is so cute is as sharp and cutting as your blade.”
“I’m sorry.” I laid my hand on my breastbone hoping he saw my sincerity. “Let’s take a deep breath. We both just faced a part of ourselves that we didn’t like or want to see. Emotions are high right now.”
We both took deep breaths. Geraint pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he reached out a hand and rubbed me roughly.
“You all right now?” he asked.
“Is that your idea of comfort?” I shrugged off his awkward embrace.
“And the sarcasm is back.” He retracted his hand and his affection.
“I use humor as a shield.” I reached for his palm and clasped it with mine. “You should know that about me if we’re going to be best buddies.”
“We’re not—”
“I’m sure Enid is fine,” I soothed.
Geraint’s shoulders slumped. “Someone told me she is Gyges’s daughter.”
“Seriously?” That was the sickest joke of all.
“Why would he put her in the fight?”
“Remember, you can’t enter against your will. There must be something she wants.”
“Then why didn’t she defend herself to get it?” he asked.
“Maybe Gyges was just using her to get to you? To break you? These games are cruel.” And this was only the first round.
“He’ll likely put us against each other next. Baros will assume you will ally with him.”
Lenny had said to meet him if I lost. I didn’t lose. Did that mean the invitation was still open?
“Loren?”
My attention snapped back to Geraint. I was thankful he couldn’t see what I’d been thinking. Or could he? The arch was back in his brow.
“Whose side are you on, my lady?” he asked.
“Are you seriously questioning my loyalty?”
“Yes.”
“That’s fair.” I lowered my chin and held my palms up. “But I took the same vows as you. And, honestly, I didn’t cross my fingers.”
“Love is stronger than vows.”
“Ew. I don’t love him.” My voice sounded like a twelve-year-old girl’s who’d just got caught passing a love note. “I lusted after him.”
“Lust is an even more powerful motivator,” he said. “It clouds the judgment.”
“My judgment does get cloudy sometimes,” I admitted. “But when the clouds part, the thing that’s most important to me is my family. I won’t ever let anything bad happen to the people of Camelot. Or Nia. Baros wants freedom. I don’t think that’s a threat to Camelot.”
“Didn’t you tell me he tried to bring back a Titan God?”
“Yeah.” I elongated the two syllables as I searched for a way to back up my ex. “But it was because he wanted to defeat a Persian immortal. Camelot’s in the UK.”
Geraint shook his head. “There are witches and squires in Turkey.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. “But if Baros does succeed and become free of the Greeks, won’t he become just a man again?”
“At one point in history, that man led one of the world’s most fearsome armies. Three hundred men lined up behind him to face an impossible situation, knowing death was imminent.”
“To protect their families,” I insisted. “Doesn’t that make him just as good as a knight?”
Confronted with that tidbit, Geraint hesitated. He was back on his heels. I went in for the kill by pulling on his chivalrous heartstrings.
“I was a thief and a forger before I came to Camelot,” I began, ignoring the fact that I had sinned just this morning when I’d forged the invitation into the Olympians’ stronghold. “What changed me was having people who believed in me, people who expected more of me. I won’t let those people down, and I won’t let any harm come to them. Baros is me from a year ago. He lost his family, his brothers, his way. I’ve changed. I think he has the capacity to do the same.”
Geraint pierced me with those eyes. I had an inkling before, but I knew he saw into my soul. The verdict, for me, was good. But Baros didn't fare so well.
“From what I see and hear,” said Geraint, “he calls to your baser instincts. What you did during the battle of the Banduri was because of your family that you love and who love you in return. Camelot calls to your best instincts. That’s what makes you noble.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but then I realized something. “Wait, did you just call me noble? We are so on the road to becoming the best platonic friends in history.”
“Baros has no ties to us,” said Geraint, ignoring my outpouring.
“He has me,” I said. “Well, he doesn’t have me. But I vouch for him.”
Geraint still wasn’t trying to hear it. He began turning away from me. I reached out for his arm, but he jerked it from me. Unfortunately, his elbow went wide and into someone’s nose. Someone’s purple nose.
“Oh no,” I groaned.
Geraint turned slowly. Horror registered on his face as Enid sank to the ground clutching her face. She looked up at him with only one eye and that eye was bruised.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean–I didn’t know–”
He reached for her, but she scrambled back in her pretty dress, like a crab. Geraint advance on his knees hands up in surrender, voice pleading. “Please, my lady. I never met you any harm. I didn’t know you wer
e helpless.”
Enid threw up her hands and the prettiest display of sparkles—what you’d imagine a fairy would produce to entertain a child—came out of her dainty hands. A plume of pastel petals swelled just below Geraint’s nose. It looked like a tiny mist of pollen. Geraint froze and then began to sneeze.
“I’m a knight,” he insisted after another bout of sneezing stopped. “You must know that the thought of harming a woman is my worst nightmare. I thought it was a trick.”
He tried to advance again, but vines sprouted up from the ground and wrapped around his limbs. They tugged taut and held him still as Enid came to standing. So, she could defend herself.
Geraint continued to struggle, determined to get his apology out. He broke through a few vines with his arm. When he did, thorns grew out of the vines, their prickers sharp and clawing into his flesh.
Finally, he held still. “All right. I deserve this. And worse. But if ever you need it, for the rest of my days, my sword is at your command.”
Enid stared down at him. A flicker of—something—sparked in her eyes. But then her gaze shuttered, dying like the embers of a snuffed fire. She backed away from him and, without another word, ran away into the crowd.
Chapter Seventeen
I left Geraint in the infirmary in the care of a light pink fairy. She laid her shimmering hands on him, and his wounds began to close before our eyes. But the fairy healer’s eyes stayed fixed on Geraint’s lips and not on the scratches and gouges in his flesh. For his part, Geraint’s attentions remained focused out on the entryway. Though I doubted Enid would make another appearance anytime soon.
I had a bruise of my own forming from my fight with Baros, but I didn’t want to sit in the infirmary and fight for the healer’s attention. Besides, it wasn’t her hands I was interested in. I knew what would solve my aches and pains, and so I headed in the direction of the lodgings that had been set up for those staying in the arena for the night.
I hadn’t told the entire truth in my debate on ethics with Geraint. The whole truth was I didn’t believe people could change. Not really. You could make different choices from time to time. But the person you were born as was the person you remained.
Look at me. I was a prime candidate. I’d taken vows to be a chivalrous servant of the innocent, but here I was, once again, taking a walk on the dark side. I stepped down the dark stone steps marveling at the shape that this sub-level of the magical arena was in.
Where the Colosseum, the above structure that was visible to the human eye, was crumbling and dilapidated, what lay beneath the surface was filled with luxury from the stone walls to the glossy floors. Along with my registration pack, I’d been handed a hotel-styled key card. I passed by the room that had been assigned to me and headed farther down the narrow corridor.
My movements were a choice, a decision that I made before the fight between myself and Baros had been won—or tied as it were. Geraint had it right; Baros did call to my baser instincts. But just because they were the baser ones and not the high and lofty ones, didn’t make them wrong. It didn’t make me evil that I was choosing this walk on the dark side. Hell, sometimes it was just more fun in the shadow than it was in the light.
Besides, I was just popping over for a visit on the dark side. I wasn’t going to stay there. A lot of society got up to go to work during the day. They were responsible while the sun came up. But when night fell, they wanted to let their hair down at the bar or the club. No one stayed at the club into the new day.
Okay, maybe I had once or twice, but we’re getting away from my point.
I might like a little darkness every once in a while, but I’d never allow any shade to touch my family. The thing was, that Baros had once been my family. He’d held me after my father had died. He’d been the person I’d turn to to make me strong.
Sure, he wasn’t always there for me. And, yes, sometimes he was occupied with some floozy in his arms. But when he actually gave me his attention, I felt important.
There was good in him. And I had even more evidence now. He hadn’t killed me back in Greece, and he hadn’t killed me tonight in Rome. That had to count for something.
Stepping up to Baros’s door, I took a moment to check the flyaways of my hair and straighten my clothes. I was only here to talk, but I wanted to look good, of course. What woman wouldn’t want to look her best when she was going to see her ex, late at night, just to talk?
From the moans and groans coming from behind Baros’s door, it sounded like some other booty had beat me to the call. No, wait, make that a couple of booties. From the squeals and giggles, it sounded like Baros had a late night celebration going on.
Had he forgotten he’d told me to stop by?
Maybe I’d taken too long, and he’d thought I’d forgotten?
Or maybe he thought I’d stood him up?
Wait a minute. What the hell was I thinking? Was I making excuses for him?
God, I was an idiot. Had I seriously thought that I could save this man? Baros was Darth Vader to the core. I was gonna hand him his ass tomorrow in the tournament, and then hand him back to the Olympians myself.
I balled my hands into fists and turned on my heel. Stalking back down the hall, I saw that Geraint’s door was closed and the light spilled out from the small space at the bottom. I didn’t want to face him and see his brow arch with an I told you so. So, I headed into my room.
It took the key card three tries before it worked. So, this underground fairyland wasn’t immune from the traps of malfunctioning technology. I flipped the switch for the lights and froze in the doorway.
Baros sat on the edge of the bed. His elbows were on the knees of his man-spread thighs. I’d avoided Geraint because I didn’t want to hear him say I told you so. But it looked like I wasn’t escaping that phrase tonight. I told you so was clearly written on Baros’s face.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“Came to tend your wounds like I promised.”
“I’m not hurting.” The door slipped from my hands and closed with a quiet snick. “Besides, shouldn’t you be at your party?”
“I’m exactly where I want to be.” His pale eyes smoldered as he stood, straightening all six-foot-plus of his muscled bulk.
“You did that on purpose. You invited those girls into your room because you knew I’d go there.”
In just two steps, he had his large body pressed against mine. He slammed my back against the door and leaned into my ear. His breath was a hot caress as he spoke.
“I came here,” he said. “Isn’t that what matters?”
“You’re still an asshole.”
“Of course,” he grinned. “People don’t change, Lolo. You know that. You know me. The good parts. The bad parts. The dirty parts. You know exactly what you’re going to get.”
It took everything in me not to tilt my head up. I knew that if I did, I’d be lost in his vacant gaze like always. Somehow, I managed to step around him. “Well, I’ve changed.”
His hand snaked out and grabbed my forearm bringing me back to him. The rough handling stole my breath and made my mouth water. I liked it a little rough, and he knew it.
“You’ve acquired new allies and new skills since last time we were together,” Baros said. “But you’re the same. Same curiosity in that little head. Same fire on that silky tongue. Same sense of adventure in your heart. But something new, also. I can smell the power, the energy, coming off you.”
Baros pulled me closer, his hold was absolute. He brought his nose near my temple and inhaled. It felt like his breath pulled the answers from deep inside me. I felt a tingling sensation from my toes all the way to my belly.
When he’d found the scent he wanted, he pulled away, just a fraction, and smiled down at me. “I always knew you were special, but a witch?”
It dawned on me then. “Is that why you want me now? Because I’m a witch.”
“I’ve always wanted you. Even before it was proper. Whether it be to
train you, to guide you, to mold you, to touch you. I knew you’d be the key to my future happiness.”
He was BSing me. I knew it as a fact because his mouth was moving. The words that were coming out were so pretty it could be nothing but lies.
His large hand slid down my spine. I clenched my teeth to keep from shuddering. From revulsion, of course.
“Let me go,” I said.
“No.” The hand that he used to hold my wrists firm made its way to my temple. He gently moved a flyaway from my brow and twirled it around his fingers.
My hands that had been captive just stayed there, suspended in the air. I couldn’t move them or my feet. Baros never needed physical control over me to bend me to his will. My muscles felt like they were spasming as I warred with making them move away and wanting to move closer. In the end, I split the difference and decided to play with fire.
Baros released his other hand from its loose hold on my back as the magical fire blazed between us. He stared, transfixed at the flame in my palm. It was my best trick, so of course, I brought it out for show and tell.
I didn’t know if I was trying to scare him away or impress him. In the end, I’m not sure it did either. He stepped into my hand, right into the burning flame.
I went to pull back, but he held my wrists. The blaze consumed the cotton of his shirt. Baros only winced at the obvious pain.
I was stunned. I had no choice but to extinguish the fire. But something had already reignited between us.
I reached up and pulled his head down to mine. He came willingly, licking into my mouth like a match searching for the flame. My hands landed on his bare chest. His skin felt hotter than the magic still burning in my fingertips.
We were burning up together. But at the same time, I felt bathed in the coolness of familiarity. Baros bit the edge of my lip, sinking in his incisors until I tasted the tint of blood. I bit back, of course.
His large hand cupped the back of my head. I was only able to take a short gasp of breath before his fingers bunched into a fist, and he gave my tresses a firm yank. I groaned as my head was jerked back and the column of my neck exposed.
