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In between the blacksmithing and archery are long stretches of people doing nothing and inane conversations about dumb shit. You couldn’t pay me to sit through this stuff. I drag out my biology homework and finish it off. I may not be college-bound, but like hell am I letting Eli take valedictorian.
“Claws, got a minute?” Antony leans against the doorframe, his tie loose around his neck. He rubs his red-rimmed eyes. I’ve hardly seen him around since Claudia took over as Imperator. He’s busy behind-the-scenes shoring up alliances and recruiting new soldiers, and now his club’s filled with women.
Claudia slides off her chair and moves into the hall. I follow her. It’s our unspoken agreement that I shadow her and learn how to run the business if she becomes incapacitated for any reason. Not that it’ll happen, because I won’t let it, but I intend to learn everything about managing the August empire. Antony frowns at me, but he doesn’t say anything about my presence. I think of all of us, he tolerates me the most.
It helps that I know his secret. It’s obvious to me now that he didn’t make up what he said about his eyesight. He holds things like his phone at odd angles when he thinks people aren’t looking, and I noticed a couple of sizeable dents in his car. It makes me nervous that he hasn’t told Claudia about it, but their relationship is complicated and I don’t want to be involved.
“I need those girls out of the Colosseum,” Antony says. “They’re lovely, but I can’t run fights and club nights with them hanging around, and until we can track Brutus’ accounts, this is our main source of income. You cleared out our available funds paying Nero back.”
Claudia looks at me. “Noah’s working on it.”
“I’ve done some research, but so far I haven’t come up with a solution,” I say. “It’s complicated. There are government agencies that can help the girls, but if we go to them it’ll mean exposing the August family’s role in their arrival.”
Claudia taps her nails against her palm. A wicked grin spreads across her face, so infectious I find my own mouth tugging up at the edges even though I have no idea what she’s plotting. “Maybe not… I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. I have the perfect solution. We go—”
Eli’s voice calls from the theatre room. “Claws, you’re going to want to see this.”
We rush inside, staring at the screen just as Eli unpauses the video. The footage has switched to a camera housed in a tree outside the Viking longhouse where the contestants are staying. It’s dark out, but the rows of flaming torches and hidden floodlights bring the entire scene into crystal clear view. I see Cleo stalk into frame, her long legs and the curve of her ass exposed in an impossibly-short smock, in blatant defiance of historical accuracy.
“What are you doing here?” she growls, staring at a spot in the trees. “This is a closed set. How’d you sneak in?”
Someone off-screen mumbles to her. I can’t make out what they’re saying.
“Figures you could weasel your way in here, although I don’t know why he doesn’t just deliver the normal way. It’s much safer. Tell him I have a foolproof system. When I go into the booth to do my personal diary, I slip the stuff into this prop drinking horn. Then the gaffer picks it up and leaves me payment when they deliver our mead rations. They can’t get enough. If we can keep up supply we’ll be exclusive suppliers in the Nordic entertainment market, and that’s all my doing. Make sure he knows that.”
The stranger says something else. Cleo holds her hands out, and the stranger throws her something. It looks like a clear plastic bag containing… I lean closer. I can’t see what’s inside. It’s too dark. But then Cleo the fool holds the baggie up to the light to inspect it.
Well, well, well.
Grey crystals.
This is what the studio didn’t want to get out. Cleo was dealing drugs on set.
And not just any drug.
Grey Death.
Beside me, Claudia shifts in her seat. She’s giddy with excitement. This is exactly what we needed. Cleo’s involved in the supply of Grey Death, the same drug found in vast quantities in Dylan O’Connor’s system. But then the bushes move, and a figure emerges from the trees and appears in shot for a fraction of a moment before disappearing into the gloom.
My breath dries in my throat.
There’s no mistaking that face.
It’s Mackenzie Malloy.
Claudia
Cleo and Mackenzie.
Mackenzie and Cleo.
I turn it over in my mind, replaying Cleo’s words from the tape until they sound like gibberish. I think back to my days at Stonehurst Prep, all our encounters with Cleo, everything the guys have told me about her. Nothing gives me any indication that Cleo and Mackenzie were in contact.
What does it mean? Did she know I was Claudia all along? Is she working with Mackenzie?
I have to find my sister.
All the rest of it – the Triumvirate, Noah’s father, Eli’s animals, even the girls we rescued – it’s all background noise for the real mystery.
