across the back of his skull looked alive—a representation of a warrior’s potency. And a slave’s captivity.
“I am Leto of Clan Garnis. But you’ll call me
She stayed rooted to the hard cave floor.
Clan Garnis were the Lost.
That explained so much. This man Leto’s admiration for his dead comrade was plain. Perhaps he intended to forge a similar path in order to perpetuate his scattered clan’s bloodline. Brainwashed or not, he had as much reason to step into the Cages as she did. The futures of their families depended on it.
The last thing she needed was a feeling of kinship with this brute.
“Come,” he said more harshly.
With her teeth gritted but her belly full, Audrey obeyed.
¦ ¦ ¦
The guards slapped manacles on Nynn’s wrists. Leto refused to think of her by whatever human name she’d taken.
She stared at her metal-wrapped wrists. “What the hell?”
“They don’t trust you.”
The guards escorted him and his charge down a bright, open corridor. This one led away from the human quarters and mess hall, toward where the Cage warriors slept in personal dorms, and where they trained. He enjoyed the familiar sights and sounds and smells of being among his colleagues. His domain.
“You’ll never be without escort,” he said. “Unless you prove yourself beyond doubt, you’ll never be without manacles.”
“What about our collars?”
“They’re never removed. Why would it matter? Topside, I’m a holdover from long-ago gods that no one believes in anymore. I’d have to hide like a coward, as you did.”
“
To so thoroughly deny her heritage by uniting with a human . . . What Dragon King could do that? “You don’t deserve the honor of fighting here.”
The guards led them to a wide double door made of reinforced steel and the same restrictive properties contained within a collar’s matrix. They couldn’t escape the main training arena’s room by using their powers. In fact, the matrix of the door was amplified to paralyze anyone who breached it.
He told Nynn as much. “Some have tried, the fools. They became drooling cripples.”
The guards removed Nynn’s manacles and departed, locking the door.
She scanned the large square facility. Leto looked as well, though he knew their perspectives would vary radically. He saw the basics: the high domed ceiling lined with sound-muffling materials, weapons along the left wall, the X-shaped whipping post in a shadowy corner. His back itched at that harsh reminder of past indiscretions. For the most part, however, he remembered moments earned, taken, beaten into submission. Those memories were more powerful than the cool air, the lingering scent of sweat, and the matrix’s buzzing ozone.
“Once locked inside the Cage, the collars can be deactivated.” He pointed to the mesh steel that comprised its ceiling and octagonal sides. “The training room’s doors keep us inside, but the reversed matrix of the Cage allows us free use of our powers. This floor is padded. Real Cages are twice as large, with brushed concrete floors with a five-inch layer of clay.”
“How does that affect fighting?”
Leto raised his eyebrow, surprised but gratified. “The clay is slippery. Makes for a tricky start. But it wears away. The concrete offers more grip. It also means the end to the fight is near. Combatants get tired. One wrong hit and bones are broken. Skulls cracked.”
Understanding shone behind her silvery-blue eyes. Leto didn’t like her sharp tongue or her obstinacy, but his initial enthusiasm returned.
He’d already assessed her body, but this was the first time her features had a more powerful hold on his attention. Wide, wide eyes caught his attention first. Equally wide cheekbones, exotic and high, came next. She had a full lower lip that dragged down at the corners in a stubborn pout. Even her nape was worth notice— slender, with strong tendons that accentuated her upright posture. Across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose was a smattering of freckles. When he found himself tracing patterns with his gaze, he looked away.
“We have three weeks before the first combat match,” he said. “And a lot of ground to cover.”
“What does a match entail?”
“Dragon Kings from here in the Asters’ compound compete in nonlethal contests. We perform in a genuine Cage, with seating in the round for the Asters’ guests. Betting is rampant. Winners are rewarded, and take one step closer to the annual Grievance.”
“A Grievance? That’s ancient—from when the Five Clans needed to clear bad blood.”
“Now it’s where the best warriors of the cartels fight for the ultimate prize.”
“Conception.”
Leto nodded. “And with the ultimate risk. At a Grievance we can be beheaded by a Dragon-forged blade, as punishment for losing.”
She blew breath out through her nose. “They’ve co-opted our traditions and made them into something disgusting. What’s the point of earning conception if it comes at the cost of slain Dragon Kings?”
Leto led his charge toward the Cage and opened the gate. “The perpetuation of our own lines. Protecting the futures of our families.”
She shrugged from under his touch. “That’s a selfish way of looking at our people’s march toward extinction.”
“Not my problem.”
He ignored her obvious disgust and locked them in together. The hum of the mesh steel’s reversal surged to life. His gift returned to him, following by white noise. It was a signal deep in his brain to prepare. The collar felt lighter. He stretched his neck from one side to the other. Muscles and joints loose. Ready for battle.
“So what can you do?” she asked, arms crossed.
“I’m Clan Garnis. What do you think?”
“Speed. Reflexes.”
In a blink, he shot behind Nynn. His crooked elbow held her in a chokehold. She gagged when he pressed just above her collar. “A great deal of speed, and
His reflexes were so astonishing that, on occasion, he felt as if he could see his opponents’ moves before their minds twitched with the thought. To his knowledge, there were no other Cage warriors of Clan Garnis. He had no one to ask. Besides, why would he reveal something so advantageous to anyone he might one day face?
He shoved her away. Nynn landed on hands and knees on the padded floor. A coughing fit arched her back.
“Fight me,” he said. “Or I get nasty.”
She held up her middle finger.
Another blink of speed. Another surge of power. He kicked her in the gut.
She clutched her stomach and clasped one hand over her mouth, as if she was ready to be sick. The heavy supper would fuel her body. Eventually. Right now it was a hindrance. He’d be impressed if she managed to keep it down.
“This will only get worse if you resist.”
With blond hair in disarray around her heart-shaped face, Nynn glared at him. Fiercely. Her unearthly blue eyes took on the intensity of a predator. Leto was surprised by the snap of primal awareness. Manhandling her, watching her wash, hearing her beg—nothing had jolted him so strongly. Instead, it was her outright defiance.
