Rage to Adore (8 page)

Lorcan too had achieved wealth and position through business
enterprise and although Jaro had his suspicions that some of his dealings were
distinctly shady, this was hardly a problem in Serpens society. The majority of
wealth here was garnered by criminals, thieves and racketeers. Legitimate
businessmen such as Jaro’s father were soon squeezed out of the market. Neither
Lorcan nor his mother acknowledged Jaro’s existence anymore. He was the
skeleton kept hidden. A ghost. To them he was as dead as his father.

Jaro raised his head to stare at his brother sitting
shoulder to shoulder with the red-haired temptress who had set his blood on
fire. That she belonged to Lorcan was irrefutable. His hand on hers was proprietary.
Bile rose from Jaro’s gut, the taste so bitter his throat clogged and he almost
gagged. Whatever Lorcan wanted, Lorcan took. It had always been that way. While
Jaro scrabbled in the dirt, surviving on scraps thrown by a master who used him
mercilessly. He was little better than an animal. Savage. A beast. His rage at
fever pitch, a snarl escaped him, a feral growl of animal ferocity. One day.
One day he would rip them all to shreds.

Rebellion

As Jaro roared, Phenex stood, excitement gleaming in his
eyes. “Belial, you challenge me?” he shouted.

“To the death!” came the reply.

Nothing new there, thought Jaro, his fury heating to boiling
point, fueling the adrenaline that would keep him alive in this fight. And he
would win. There was no doubt. His sights were set on vengeance and even if he
died in the process, he would make sure that before he took his last breath,
his betrayers would be paid back with blood.

Tendrils of softness approached him, wafting around his
skin, ribbons of comfort. She was doing it again. He had felt it earlier, a
ripple of compassion, an encircling embrace that emanated from the woman at
Lorcan’s side. He rejected her pity. He wanted nothing from her. How dare she
goad him the way she had and then presume to be sorry for him! He imagined her
laughing with Lorcan over his loss of control, his fury now a raging hurricane
repulsing the offered comfort with an explosion of vehemence that viciously
spiraled outward, shattering the soothing caress.

As if she could feel it, the redhead flinched. A glistening
of tears in her eyes? His momentary distraction was enough for Belial’s man to
take advantage. Jaro took a hit to the jaw.

Fuck this! Get a grip. His attention turned to his opponent
and pure unadulterated anger kicked in. He
was
an animal, a predator,
and this man was his prey. Jaro flew back at the male, his anger now a seething
cauldron of hatred. He grabbed the man around the waist, and the force of Jaro’s
momentum sent them both crashing into the walls of the pit. The crowd was
screaming in anticipation, a frenzied mob of bloodthirsty animals. Wanting the
pain, wanting the suffering. Reveling in it.

The bone-crunching impact momentarily stunned them both and
then Jaro found himself under attack again. Belial’s male had registered Jaro’s
already bruised and beaten body and focused his attention on the slicing wound
at his hip, tearing at it with his hands. The male continued to throw punches
at his gut and all Jaro could do was try to defend his battered body.

Tani was having trouble breathing as she watched the drama
unfold. She could not believe that even here they would force a man to fight
when he was as injured as Phenex’s fighter. She could also not believe that he
had rejected her offer to soothe his hurts through her power. It was a blanket
she was used to extending whenever she could to those who suffered but it
seemed that her offer of help had only made him angry. She could only watch,
helpless to do more than pity his predicament. But then again, a man like that,
warrior that he was, would have no use for pity and compassion. His was a world
of brute strength, survival of the fittest. No mercy.

It was barbaric. Tani could not believe the ferocity of the
fight. She could hardly bear to watch as Belial’s male tore Phenex’s apart.
That he was still fighting back astounded her, considering the condition he had
been in when he entered the pit. An unexpected wave of nausea washed through
her. Something about this fight cut her deeply. She had seen many fights, fought
in horrific battles and witnessed the aftermath of massacres, but never had her
soul cried with such gut-wrenching agony as it did now.

Perhaps the stress of finally meeting her partner duality
was causing her emotions to short-circuit. Whatever it was, Tani couldn’t bear
to watch the two males rip each other to pieces.

“Lorcan.” She turned to him. “What about your mother, can’t
she intervene with Phenex?”

He shook his head. “She hates this particular fighter. She
wouldn’t do it.”

Tani frowned at that. Why would Sitri have intense emotions
regarding a slave? “For what reason?”

Lorcan sighed and replied, shrugging in regret. “He was once
a trusted servant in the house of one of Serpens’s richest families but he abused
his position and was charged with theft and the rape of his master’s daughter.”
Tani felt sick. The fighter was a rapist, an abuser of women. “Should he not be
in prison?” she asked.

“Lady Tanith,” snorted Lorcan. “You are ignorant of Serpens
law. Masters can do what they wish with slaves. To kill him would be wasteful.
He was punished for his offense but did not learn his lesson. The bastard
repeated his crime, raping another young female. He is a double rapist and not
to be trusted. Rather than execute him, his master sold him off. Phenex bought
him for the fighting pits. He is the lowest of the low and not worth your
concern or compassion.” Lorcan turned away.

Yes. The lowest of the low. He was not worth her concern.
Yet she could not shake off the ache in her chest as she watched Belial’s
fighter pound his fists into the injured male, knocking him off balance. Time
and again, he managed to rise. He would not be crushed. Tani fought to remain
impassive. Her emotions were all over the place. She glanced at Lorcan’s
handsome face as he watched the fight. Maybe meeting him was enhancing aspects
of the essence she held. As the Esseni of Love, she had a natural compulsion to
feel affection and compassion toward others. Obviously it also extended toward
criminals, but she supposed that was her fate. To feel love for all, regardless.
Lorcan turned toward her and smiled. “I’d rather you watched me than the fight,”
he said. “I’d much rather look at you.”

“Lorcan, I…” She wanted to talk to him about being an Esseni.
He had her so conflicted. He was hard to read. One moment his persona was
projecting the urbane, wealthy aristocrat that Serpens society saw but at other
times the raw, earthy passionate force she knew him to be. He obviously felt he
had to hide that side of himself. Lorcan had his secrets just as she did. And
she wanted to share, wanted to feel confident enough to let him in. Fear still kept
her silent.

A roar erupted from the crowd. Lorcan’s attention claimed by
the fight, he turned away and the moment was lost. Tani focused again on the
ongoing battle. She was shocked to see that Belial’s male had his back against
the wall and Phenex’s fighter, the rapist, was driving into him a series of
punches that had his opponent’s head whipping around as blood gushed from his
mouth. How had he gained the upper hand? Why was this man still on his feet? It
was astounding. Crimson ran from the wound at his hip and his whole body, from
his head down, was swollen red and raw where he had been hit time and again.
How he could even see with his face a fleshy mound of contusions was beyond her
comprehension. Still, he was standing and his opponent was crashing to the
ground.

Phenex’s male staggered, straightening his back in defiance,
standing to face the box where Tani sat. His opponent stayed down, barely
moving. Phenex roared approval at his fighter’s win, the partisan crowd
stamping their feet in triumphant euphoria. As Phenex stood, the spectators
fell silent in anticipation, their lust for blood insatiable. Belial stood to
face Phenex. The tension between the two warlords was obvious as each eyed the
other with hostility.

“Do you concede, Belial?” Phenex’s tone was arrogant, as if
he’d fought the battle himself. Belial was seething with anger but could only
reply in one way. “Yes, Lord Phenex. I concede.”

“You concede your man is mine to do with as I will.”

Tani could feel Belial’s teeth grinding as he replied, “I
do.” Phenex clapped his hands and a slave appeared carrying a tray. On the tray
lay two objects, a dagger and a pitcher of water. Tani’s heart stopped as she
realized the implication. Phenex took what seemed like an eternity as he
perused the objects, ramping up the tension for the crowd until he finally
grabbed the knife. The crowd screeched in agreement, baying for blood. He
tossed the knife to his victorious fighter who hadn’t moved a muscle.

The knife fell at his feet. As he bent to pick it up, Tani
caught a surge of seething hatred rolling off the man, radiating outward in
every direction, his contempt for them all a black coat of pitch. He stood
grasping the dagger by his side as he lifted his head to acknowledge his master’s
order. She felt the heat of his gaze, felt his eyes fall on her even though she
couldn’t see them, his face so swollen now it hurt to look at it. Another wave
of anger directed at her. Instinctively, Tani tried to soothe the vicious fury—her
soul shuddering at the absolute purity of the vehemence directed toward her. It
wasn’t just toward her; it couldn’t be just for her—could it? It was just that
she could feel it. As an Esseni, she could register strong emotion in others
but she couldn’t shake the sensation that the fighter’s fury was directed very
personally toward her.

Phenex’s man lifted the dagger and paused, looking down at
his fallen opponent. He would have to stab him in the back, an ignoble way for
a warrior to die. He lifted his arm. The knife flew out of his hand and landed
in the wooden chair back not two inches from Phenex’s head. A roar of disbelief
from the crowd and Phenex bellowing to his guards to grab the fighter.

The pit was in uproar, the crowd’s chants for blood reaching
fever pitch. Phenex jumped down into the pit where his men held the victor on
his knees. Tani watched in horror as the nightmare unfolded. The guards were
pulling Belial’s man to his knees as well and then both men were in front of
Phenex. At his mercy.

Phenex grabbed his own fighter by the hair and spat in his
face. “You defy me once too often, fool!” he spluttered and slammed a fist into
his jaw. The man’s head snapped around so hard Tani was surprised to see it
still attached to his body. In fact, he raised his head up again in challenge,
appearing to have no notion of humility. Either he was incredibly brave or
incredibly stupid.

Tani could hardly bear to watch, her revulsion increased by
the blatant bloodlust of the assembled spectators. She glanced at Lorcan. He
too appeared mesmerized by the spectacle. He turned suddenly and caught her
gaze. Shrugging, he took her hand. “There’s nothing you can do, Lady Tanith,
don’t feel bad. This is the way of it here. Someone has to die.”

Tani looked around. He was right. The expectation of all was
for blood. They were clamoring for it. Yes, the fighter was a rapist. And as
far as she could see he had been punished for his crime. But did he deserve
this? Her heart sped up. He was going to die and something inside her couldn’t
reconcile that fact. It was just wrong.

Phenex reached for his sword, punching it into the air on
the crest of the chanting crowd. “Death! Death! Death!” The crescendo increased
in intensity. Phenex stood behind both men as they knelt. He lifted the sword
and sliced it downward, separating a dark head from a body that sagged and
crumpled to the ground, a scarlet river spreading across the dirt, pooling at
his feet. Stamping. Chanting. Frenzy.

Tani hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. The head
rolled to a standstill, stopping at Phenex’s feet. He lifted it into the air to
the euphoric cries of the spectators. Air burst from her lungs as breath sawed
from her chest in ragged bursts. The chill that gripped her soul was an icy
clawing hand.

Belial’s male stared at her with dull eyes, mouth wide open
in the shocked agony of death as Phenex held the head triumphantly toward the
gallery where she sat. Lorcan squeezed her hand in sympathy. “Are you all right,
my lady?” Concern in his tone. “This must be very disturbing for you. I’m surprised
Morana brought you here.”

“I’m fine,” she replied as calmly as she could while trying
to stick to her cover story as a cosseted society lady. “We have these
gladiatorial battles where I come from too. Just not to the death.”

Her eyes remained fixed on the pit, on the remaining
fighter, relief at his survival overwhelming the horror of the other man’s
death. Why that should be, she couldn’t say and didn’t want to consider. Tani
kept her eyes focused on the kneeling man who had not flinched even when the
threat of Phenex’s sword had hovered over him. His stillness absolute. His
defiance a victory.

Phenex was still riding the wave of his actions, inciting
the crowd to further riotousness as he finally tossed the head toward Belial
who growled in rage as he caught it in his hands. His threats of revenge
unheeded by Phenex, Belial turned on his heel and exited, fury evident in his
eyes.

Victorious in the humiliation of his rival, Phenex turned
again toward the kneeling man, smashing a fist into his face to the delight of
the mob. Again the man remained upright. Phenex motioned to his guards who
grabbed him and dragged his abused body to a wooden post at the back of the
pit. Tani gasped in disbelief as she realized what was about to happen. “Lorcan…is
he going to…whip him?”

“He disobeyed a command, Lady Tanith, and almost killed his
master. It has to be so,” said Lorcan. “Phenex is merciful not to have taken
his head. It is regretful that he will be beaten but remember—he is a criminal,
a hardened unrepentant one. He would show no mercy to you if you fell into his
clutches.”

Tani turned toward Lorcan. His tone suggested sympathy but
as she looked there was a glint in Lorcan’s eyes that almost appeared to relish
what was about to happen. Perhaps it was his innate sense of justice. She had
seen him feeding the poor; he would certainly sympathize with this man’s
victims.
We reap what we sow.

At the same time Tani caught a glimpse of Sitri’s face. Her
expression of gleeful enjoyment in what was about to happen evident and
mirroring that of her son. Tani was not surprised to see Sitri’s sadistic
tendencies but she also realized that Sitri had probably known the girls he had
abused and was entitled to feel some satisfaction in his punishment. Why then
did Tani feel this weight of oppression crushing her chest at the thought of
what was to come? She was a warrior herself, honed in battle and had seen men
punished before for heinous crimes. This should be no different. Somehow it
was.