“Yeah, since I’m not a friggin’ beach ball.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing,” I replied, remembering I’d have to explain what an inflatable beach ball was. My sense of humor wasn’t a perfect fit for Visio, obviously.
His hand covered mine on the lacquered armrest, and my heart stopped beating for the longest of seconds. “Don’t worry, Esme. I won’t let you down. You will see me fight. Just not today,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to mine, his eyes so cold that ice snapped through my spine.
Wherever this whole thing led, there was one aspect that was crystal clear to me. This guy was a dollop of trouble, and I was a sucker for it all.
Esme
“Where have you been?” Tristan asked, keeping his voice low.
“Riding a Vision,” I said, grinning. His confused expression required a brief explanation. “That’s what they call their horses here. Visions.”
“Oh. Fun ride?”
“And then some.” I giggled. “Sorry we were late.”
“Technically speaking, we didn’t have an hour set to meet,” Tristan replied. He looked at Kalon for a moment, whose attention was captured by movement in the arena. Workers were doing last-minute checks of the red clay ground, as the tournament was about to begin. There were twenty thousand people present for these matches, the majority of them Aeternae. It wasn’t difficult to spot the Rimians and the Naloreans, though. With such different physiognomies, they simply stood out, even when they wore Visio’s elegant garb.
“Have you learned anything new since last night?” I whispered, wary of any Aeternae overhearing us, as I occasionally glanced back at Derek and the others. They were all nicely dressed, blending in and apparently smiling—but those were our polite smiles. Thoughts simmered beneath the surface, and I couldn’t blame them. We were all so incredulous after GASP’s previous experiences with foreign civilizations that we simply couldn’t accept a good thing when we saw it.
Tristan shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something, when Kalon interrupted. “The first match is about to begin,” he said, demanding my attention.
I gave my brother a brief nod, then leaned closer to Kalon. I’d made it my mission to get close enough to him to gather information, but, at the same time, I dreaded the thought of sharing such a close space with him. He rattled and excited me, all at once…
Two people emerged in the arena, while the announcer came up on the extended stage. The fighters were dressed in leather and chainmail. The Aeternae champion was tall, well above his species’ average. His black hair was long and braided down his back. Amber eyes scanned the entire arena until they found Kalon next to me. He smirked, contempt clouding his expression.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
Kalon sighed. “Demetrius.”
“He doesn’t seem friendly.”
“He isn’t,” Kalon replied dryly, watching Demetrius with interest.
His opponent was a Nalorean, big and burly and seemingly capable of putting up a good fight against someone like Demetrius. The announcer, a slender, white-haired Aeternae, extended his arms, revealing his fangs as he smiled. It riled up the crowd, as people started cheering, whistling, and clapping.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer shouted. Those sound enhancement panels worked incredibly well. I could hear him as though he was standing right next to us. “Welcome to the semi-final rounds of Visio’s fourteenth tournament this year!”
The cheers got louder. Below our stall, young Aeternae women were laughing and waving at Demetrius, who couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge them. He only had eyes for Kalon, and not in a good way. My stomach tightened, and for a brief moment, I actually worried about him—Demetrius looked as though he would’ve loved nothing more than to tear his head off, spine and all.
“Today’s first match has Demetrius of the Mefithi dynasty facing off against Krassus Senda of Nalore!” the announcer continued. Demetrius got plenty of applause and good wishes, but Krassus, on the other hand, did not seem like a fan favorite. He didn’t care, either, as he sauntered across the red clay to meet Demetrius in the middle.
The Nalorean carried a massive, double-edged battle axe and a solid steel shield with obsidian inlays. He struck me as perfectly capable of chopping even the most ambitious Aeternae into little pieces, but his mere participation in the event was still… odd.
“So, if Krassus wins this tournament, he’ll have the option of becoming an Aeternae?” I asked, watching as the two fighters circled one another.
“As soon as the bell rings, the fight will begin!” the announcer said, pointing at a giant bronze bell mounted on a pillar next to his stage. “It need not be to the death, but if that does come to pass, we shall have a feast tonight, right here in this arena, to honor those fallen!”
That really made the crowd happy, as they cheered and clapped and burst into raucous laughter, their excitement rippling across the bowl and making Demetrius grin. He probably saw himself drinking a cup of blood tonight, to honor the soon-to-die Krassus. At this point, I genuinely wished for Krassus to win, just to humiliate that giant ass.
“Yes, he will have that option,” Kalon answered. “But I hear he’s more interested in opening his own business. The tournament provides enough compensation to do that. There might even be enough gold left for him to buy an island off the west coast, if he wants to.”
“That sounds like quite a fortune,” I said. “I just hope he wins.”
Kalon shot me a grin. “I take it you don’t like Demetrius much, huh?”
“He has that kind of face.”
“What kind is that?” Kalon asked, his eyes narrow and glimmering with intrigue.
“The kind that asks for it.”
“It?”
“The ass-whipping of the century. The decapitation of the millennium. I don’t know, anything that’s violent and gruesome enough to take him down. That arrogance is nauseating,” I said. It made Kalon chuckle.
“I should bring you to these fights more often.”
“Just don’t expect me to cheer for you,” I replied, pointing at dozens of Aeternae women around the box stalls who were eating him up from afar, fluttering their eyelashes and smiling, hoping they’d get his attention. “You’ve got plenty of fangirls here.”
Kalon leaned in closer again, cutting off my breath once more. “I’m not interested in them or their cheers.”
“I’m still not cheering for you,” I said bluntly, my face burning. His breath tickled my face.
His gaze dropped, and it took all my strength to stop myself from licking my lips. What an inconvenient reflex this was! “I don’t want you to cheer for me. But I hope my victory will make you smile. It’s something worth fighting for.”
