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As the crowd watch, stunned, Cali carves up Marcus, chopping his arms at the shoulders, his legs at the feet, then the knees. She tosses the pieces into the crowd, where her supporters dive for them like coveted trophies. The rest of the room remains bitterly, eerily silent.
“Anyone else want to challenge me?” Cali glares around her, her entire body drenched in blood. Every soldier in the ring takes a step back, stares anywhere else but the blood-soaked woman.
The crowd screams their approval, stomping their feet and waving their fists in the air. They’re here for blood, and they want to be ruled by the bloodiest empress of them all.
Nero looks… amused.
I’m…
I don’t know what I feel.
Tonight is… a complete fuckup. I walked into the arena confident in my alliance with Dio, ready to out-maneuver Nero and eat away at another slice of his empire. But all this time… I was signing my soul over to a deal with the Devil. And now my alliance is shot to shit and the woman who wants to rip my throat out is claiming charge of the Dio family.
Can Cali even do that?
I glance at Nero, watching the corner of his smarmy grin twitch. I guess if the Triumvirate agrees, Cali can do what she wants. It’s not as if Marcus is in any state to dispute her claim. And I’m not exactly one to oppose, since I’m not technically Julian August’s blood.
Nero watches his own carefully orchestrated plan fall to pieces around him. Not even he’s been able to predict Cali. Now we have to decide what to do with her.
Cali is a complete wildcard. Nero can’t manipulate her the way he could Constantine. But she hates me, so that’s to his advantage. She represents chaos, and Nero adores chaos. He thrives in chaos. Plus, there’s not much he can do with the whole crowd screaming her name.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “This is an interesting turn of events, wouldn’t you say, Imperator?”
“Indeed.” I raise an eyebrow in return. “I for one am ready to welcome another woman into our fold. What do you say?”
Chaos wins. It always does.
Nero claps his hands. Antony emerges from the wings, walking a pig on a lead – the sacrifice we give to the Gods for any big celebration. Cali slices its throat and collects the blood in the same small cup I drank from at Saturnalia. She raises it to her lips, only instead of drinking, she tips the blood over her head so it dribbles down her face, mingling with Marcus’ blood and plastering her hair to her scalp.
The crowd cheer, although I notice a few sullen faces – Marcus’ supporters, I’m guessing. Cali’s move is going to tear Dio right down the middle. She’ll have a hell of a job pulling them together under her banner. This is good, because if she needs to focus on solidifying her power she won’t have time to kill me—
“As my first act as your Imperator,” Cali runs her finger along the edge of her curved blade, “I challenge Claudia August to a fight to the death.”
Claudia
I snort. That’s ridiculous. She can’t do that, can she?
Cali continues, “Claudia August killed my love, Brutus August. Brutus August brought the August empire back from the brink after his brother’s neglect. He deserved to die like a god, not to be slaughtered for some old, forgotten crime. For his death, I demand penance.”
“Of course I killed him.” The horror of that night stirs in my bones. My parents’ deaths – my real parents, not by blood but by the gifts they gave me – are not a forgotten crime. Their absence is burned into my flesh. “Brutus buried my father alive. For his crimes against our family, he wore the sacer. I had every right to kill him.” I glare at Nero. “She has no right to challenge me like this.”
“As an Imperator, I have every right to question a decision, to demand satisfaction for a slight.” Cali licks blood from her fingers. “And if I don’t get what I want, I may be forced to reveal certain other truths.”
Of course. Cali was in the room when I revealed that I knew about the chemical vat. She knows my secret, and I no longer have Constantine’s protection. Of course, it matters less now that we allowed her to be an Imperator without a blood connection, but having that secret will put me back in a precarious position again, this time with Cali’s knife at my throat—
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
Nero turns to me, his face lit up with amusement. “Your move, princess,” he grins. “Surely, you won’t allow this insult to stand?”
He’s right, the bastard. The harsh lights burn against my bare skin. I blink. I can hardly see a thing beneath their onslaught, just the first row of tables beyond the stomping, roaring crowd. But I feel them all – their eyes pricking my skin, their skin straining over knuckles as they punch the air, the scent of blood hanging low and thick.
Noah strides across the arena, his body poised for a fight. Antony stalks after him to remind him of the rules of our organization. They argue over top of each other in harsh whispers, reminding me of every time in my life where men have made decisions for me.
“Fuck off,” I shove them aside. “I’ll fight Cali.”
Eli’s Golden Boy features darkens with rage. “Don’t be insane. You’re not getting in the ring with her. She can’t just stomp in here and demand you fight her. It’s not a fair playing field—”
“Listen to the crowd out there,” I hiss back. “You think we can walk out of this now without spilling blood? This isn’t a high school sports game. They don’t give a shit about a fair playing field. They’ve just seen Constantine felled and Marcus chopped to bits. They want their bread and circuses.”
