Chapter 23 Part 2

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The arena went silent as Hoarfrost took its place a few steps away from the slaughter line. It wasn't cautious, but it was caution's close cousin—smart.

"Fight!" Greg's voice thundered over the arena.

Hoarfrost moved in at an easy lope, neither fast nor slow but with a ground-killing stride that could be sustained for hours. Anastasia dropped the black bag, the accelerant he'd smeared on its sides giving it a wet look.

Standing relaxed, Anastasia watched Hoarfrost close the distance. Slipping the grenade out from the rig, she weighed it in her hand. Seeing the weapon, Hoarfrost disappeared in a burst of speed. Anastasia's eyes darted over the field, tracking the things zigzagging. She waited until she felt the shot, when it was destined to be thrown and you were just an instrument of fact. The silver missile struck Hoarfrost and exploded in a searing white flash of light. Even across the arena, it left spots in Cesare's eyes as the crowd jumped to their feet with a cheer.

The wendigo's only chance was to get its hands on Anastasia. Its fingers dug into the ground in a savages butchered runner's stance, ears laid back. It flew across the ground, an arrow for Anastasia's heart. There was no snarl or cry of anger, only cold, murderous rage that left silver needles of frozen grass behind it.

Whirling the bag in one hand, Anastasia faced the monster's charge. The only thing that mattered was hitting the wendigo. If she hit the bastard, she was golden, but if she missed…

Cesare's heart stopped the moment she let it fly. A viciously tight smile cute Cesare's face when Hoarfrost tracked it with blind eyes. In his dark world, Anastasia was charging him.

Intercepting the bag, its claws parted the fabric like rotten flesh. Reddish dust bloomed around the wendigo in a thick cloud, hiding the thing in its center. The wendigo's arm peeked out of the dissipating cloud. Caught in the trap, its only shot was to get out before the jaws snapped shut. As that reddened fur hand reached out of the deadly cloud, the black fire hit.

If the flash bomb had been intense, it was nothing compared to pounds of thermate in a dust cloud being hit by the fury of the Ebon Flame. Thermate had a high ignition point making thermite the better choice for most problems. But Anastasia was deep in her trance. Having followed his words into the depths of her power, she dragged the malice born power into the light, channeling a titanic blast.

The wendigo exploded into a ball of flaming red with a heart of incandescent white. Sparks flew from the inferno as molten bits of metal fused in the heat of the hellish heart. Devoured by a hunger that was ancient when the wendigo was young, fire's unquenchable hate tortured it.

Thermate burns at over six thousand degrees, hot enough to melt through steel. Skin shrivels, ashing under the heat. Blood boils, erupting from flesh in clouds of crimson. Bone chars and cracks. Eyes explode as ocular fluid bursts from fragile membranes. Nose, lips, and cheeks melt off the face, leaving bone.

A thundering crack boomed across the field, laying the grass low. Pieces of the wendigo flew, scattering across the field. Anastasia stood defiantly against the blast wave, Thagirion jacket whipping back to reveal her stunning body.

Cesare was falling from his leap off the box railing before his mind caught up to his actions. He hit the ground with knees bent, tumbling into a roll to bleed off the impact. He was up and running even as he heard the thump of someone landing behind him.

Seeing Cesare coming, Anastasia didn't open her arms. No, she ran toward him, laughing. He lifted her up in his arms, laughing as she buried her head into his shoulder. One hand moved to the small of her back, the other tangled in her hair. She was safe. She was whole, and she was with him.

"You did it." He spoke into her hair.

Her eyes shined with triumph. "We did it." He looked down at her lips, all he had to do was lean in just that little bit …

The moment was gone in a flash as Kali's arms wrapped around them. Laughing, Cesare opened his arms to make room for Lady Kali in the three-way hug. The last of his anger faded as he looked down at the desperate relief in Lady Kali's eyes. Would he have backed down if someone had demanded to be in charge of saving Anastasia? He'd have played it like Kali, going along until he could take control. Trust was a beautiful thing, but with the lives of those he cared for … well, he didn't trust anyone that much.

He held Anastasia and Kali tight to his sides "How did you know it would explode?" Lady Kali asked breathlessly. Anastasia looked at him as well, her curious eyes beaming with happiness.

"I didn't. All I knew was that thermite and ice explode. No one knows why, only that it does. I thought it was a possibility, that's all. That's why I had the contingency plans. But that one phrase kept coming back to me, that they were ice and hunger," Cesare said.

"Cesare." Elizabeth's quiet words were gasped out. She was breathing hard with his army bag in her hands. Nodding his thanks, he disengaged from the two women. He had to get the arsenal off Anastasia. She couldn't go around with live explosives strapped to her body. Kali and Elizabeth moved to screen them as he gathered the claymores and chlorine gas, the ropes coming undone easily in his hands. When Kali's harem arrived, they took in the scene and formed a second cordon around them.

As the last rope went into the bag, Anastasia handed over the detonator. He'd already taken the detonator caps out of the claymores. Still, he dismantled the remote just in case.

"Hey, that's my girl in there!" Blaez's indignant voice rang out from beyond the wall of Lady Kali's killers. The wolf was dressed in his best, a tailored gray suit molded to his athletic body.

At his side was a man that could only be Blaez's father. He had wind-blown black hair that was too perfect to be anything but styled. Taller than his son, his eyes drifted over the harem, taking in the bulges that hide weapons with the trained skill of a fighter. His wife was on Blaez's other side. With short brown hair and a blue dress, she complimented her husband well. A trim build and the long legs gave her a runner's build, she owned the fluid suppleness of a fighter. She looked like what she was—a professional, she'd killed, raised a son, and commanded a pack. This was a woman who had butchered her life from the choice cuts, and taken power because she was harder than the other bitches. The polished shine of her eyes was the product of an ivy league education and a lifetime of walking the halls of power.

Focused on the family, Kali's quiet words were only for Cesare. "You done?"

"Yeah, should be good for now. I'd feel better if I could take the bag back to the cottage." The explosives needed to be checked, and either repacked or disposed of.

"We'll see." She wasn't willing to commit, not with the wolves in her sights.

Anastasia walked through the harem to her boyfriend's side. Blaez snatched her up in his arms, twirling her around. "That's my girl! I knew you could do it!"

Anastasia's tone was wry. "Really, is that why you spent all night trying to talk me out of it?"

Blaez's father stepped into the awkward silence. "You did wonderful, dear. When that ... thing ... came out, we were sure you'd be forced to forfeit. I've never cheered so hard then when you blinded that thing. And you were so poised and in control. Beautiful, just like your mother. I've never seen anything like it." Even as he complimented her, his attention stayed on his son, deftly heading off the argument that had started.

"It was amazing. I would've pulled my son out and damn the consequences. I'm ashamed that I thought it was a mistake to let you fight the wendigo. The people who've killed a wendigo one on one can be counted on the fingers of one hand." Kali had been walking forward since Anastasia left the protective circle. As soon as she exited its covetous protection, Blaez's father turned to her with a smile "But then, I should have known Lady Kali knew what she was doing."

Lady Kali snorted. "Actually, I came here to pull her from the fight. But Anastasia and Cesare convinced me they had it under control." The ground steamed, flayed down to blackened dirt, melted pieces of red hot steel cooling in the air, rotting bits of wendigo rotting in quick time. "And looking at this, I'll admit I was wrong to doubt them."

A sharp look from Lady Kali shut Blaez's mouth before he'd gotten more than a breath out. The boy flinched back from the woman, terror skittering through his eyes as his shoulders rounded in fear. Concern moved across his father's face at the confrontation. Anastasia stepped closer to her boyfriend in support. Blaez's arm wrapping possessively around her shoulders, even as her hair shied away from touching him.

"I'm glad Anastasia has such a good friend beside her." Blaez stiffened at his father's words. "Are we still on for dinner after the Games?"

Kali reached for Cesare's hand with a hopeful look. With a smile, he interlaced their fingers. Maybe she was acting like a love-struck girl, but her voice was of a titan that had ruled an empire before humanity spawned wet and screaming from wet shit. "Of course. Cesare will do me the honor of being my escort."

Blaez's parents looked at Lady Kali with wide eyes. Catching themselves quickly, their polite masks snapped back into place. Blaez's head jerked up in shock. But no one was as surprised as Anastasia.

"Mother?" Anastasia asked, aghast.

Lady Kali smiled at her daughter. "Just because you're willing to pass up a man for the tongue of puppy doesn't mean I am." Kali looked up at Cesare with smoldering eyes.

"But he's fifteen." Anastasia said. "That's illegal and ... nasty."

"I've had my pussy longer than this continent has had life on it. I assure you, nature doesn't give a damn about how old you are as long as your parts work. I'm sure his cock is as big as it's going to get, and I'm mature enough to take it. If Cesare is old enough to have sex with a woman his own age, I don't see the difference between that and having sex with me. Now, we can debate underage sex all day if you'd like, but I believe what I do with my pussy and what Cesare does with his cock isn't any of my daughter's business." There was no give in Lady Kali's voice. "Are you going with your boyfriend to watch the last fight, or do you want to come back to the box with us?"

Blaez looked hopefully at Anastasia, but she peeled his arm off without a look. "I'm coming with you."

Blaez looked at Anastasia uncertainly. "Well, can't I ..." He stopped as the ground rippled around them. The boy stumbled back under the force of hatred in Elizabeth's eyes. His father set his hand on Blaez's shoulder, pulling him away from the confrontation.

"I think it would be better if we see them after the fight," his father said, leading the wolf away before he was killed.

"You didn't have to ..." Anastasia began.

Elizabeth cut her off. "That child has gone out of his way to torment Cesare. Maybe you don't care to stand up for him, but I assure you, I do not share the sentiment." Lady Kali's look was even more damning as she locked eyes with her daughter. A slow flush reddened Anastasia's face, whether in shame or anger was anyone's guess.

Cesare took a seat between Lady Kali and Elizabeth. Anastasia sat next to her mother, but not before levelling a pointed look at Cesare and Kali.

The crowd roared when Abraxas took the field with a bored look. A small smile spread across Cesare's lips. No matter what Abraxas did, Anastasia had gained a lot of ground today. She was eclipsing him in popularity, making her a threat to the snake's hold on the school.

His opponent was a woman who was six feet of solid muscle. It wasn't born in the furnace of weights and long hours in the gym. This was the muscle of farm and field. Carved from working hard every day, of pulled muscles, no choice, and the need to feed a family, it was a bloody power stronger than what weightlifting could bless a man with.

"Now we have the leader of our own Thagirion, Abraxas!" Greg waited out the thunderous applause. "And his opponent! The Bear Woman, Mato!"

Between one step and the next, a heat haze covered her body, blurring the lines of her form. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving a Grizzly Bear in its place— over sixteen hundred pounds of furious temper. It ambled forward with a roiling walk, each step hitting the ground with the authority of an apex predator. This was a monster that knocked down trees to get what it wanted, that ran down cars and ripped them open like TV dinners. It moved right up to the line and squatted, a stray paw scratching its side in search of an itch.

"What do you think, Cesare?" Anastasia asked.

"A Grizzly's over a thousand pounds and moves at thirty miles per hour. There's not a predator on the planet that hunts them. And that's a normal one. Abraxas will take this one." It would be interesting to see how the dragon dealt with it. The same tactics it had used on the golem wouldn't work this time. With almost nine inches of fat, it would be suicide to think you could punch through that.

Greg waited for the Bakkheia to reach its stride, the music stoking the blood into a frenzy. People leapt to their feet, stamping a base rhythm that burrowed down to the bone. "Aaaaaaand … FIGHT!"

Lumbering to its feet, the bear picked up speed with a shambling run. At thirty miles per hour and sixteen hundred pounds, it would be like getting hit by a car—a car with a vicious temper. Abraxas stayed still until the last second. Diving to the side, he barely dodged a cumbersome swipe from the bear.

Abraxas watched as the bear curved in a wide arc. Mato was trying to keep as much of her momentum as she could. A stream of gold and red fire flowed from Abraxas pursed lips. It grew exponentially, doubling and doubling again until a tornado of golden red flame formed with his lips as the epicenter. The grass burned under the tongues of flame that escaped from the tightly controlled cone.

Mato was already on her way back to him, tucking her head down she picked up speed. Too close to dodge, her only shot was to break through. The inferno engulfed her in its hate. The sweet, sickly smell of burned meat filled the stadium. She was only in the flame for a bare few seconds before bursting out in a skid across the ground. The strong, brown-furred bear was ravaged. Rivers of blood oozed from canyons marbling charred flesh. White bone showed through across the skull. Exposed fat sizzled as it ran down her body in veins of white.

Splayed on the ground, her face was a melted ruin, jellied eyes dripping out of blackened sockets. Her ears were burned off her head, leaving raw bone charred from the flame. Scarlet muscles showed across her face, coated in smoking blood. Her teeth were bared in a death's head mask.

Abraxas headed back through the archway under the crowds adoring cheers. The world owed him its worship, it wasn't arrogance to take what was his by right of birth. He took their hearts with the arrogance of a young god, and they loved him for it.

Greek Gods weren't moral; they weren't good. They fed their appetites without caring for the people they ruined. Tore the meat from the still living bodies of their food, uncaring of the maimed they left behind. They lived the dreams of mortals. Modern gods were birthed from sports stars and movie actors, adored by shallow souls, loved by the plastic people, each a cow to be slaughtered when it fell from grace.

"Did you expect that?" Anastasia asked for the women.

"The dragon's lethal. If he can see it coming, you've already lost. That's why no one's come close. Once you know what your enemy can do, it's only a step beyond to knowing how to beat them." The women settled troubled eyes on the departing dragon.

They walked down onto the field, with Lady Kali taking possession of his hand. Elizabeth walked on his other side, close enough that their shoulders rubbed and hands bumped. Anastasia was the lone person out, keeping her distance, eyes never far from where her mom held his hand.

The wolves waited for them outside the arena. As the two came together, Anastasia left their group to move over to Blaez's side. A smile of triumph cut across the boy's face at the girl's choice. The werewolf settled for claiming her hand when she shied away from him putting his arm around her.

"Are you going to change before we go?" Blaez asked intently. "I'm sure that shi ... ah, Cesare would like to get changed too."

The wolves were dressed for dinner, while Lady Kali was in designer jeans, artfully and—no doubt—expensively ripped. Her anime t-shirt added flare to the ensemble. Elizabeth was gorgeous, with her blend of Gothic couture, her look went beyond appropriate and into the realm of art. Anastasia, fresh from her fight, still wore her tailored school uniform. She looked as she always did ... breathtaking. And then there was Cesare, white undershirt showing through his black paper-thin hoodie, faded jeans taped at the knees.

Anastasia glared at the smirking Blaez. "I'm fine." Anastasia bit off, pulling her hand from Blaez. "Thanks for asking."

"You stink like … him," Blaez spat out.

Anastasia sighed. "It worked. I won, and the wendigo died. I don't care how I smell, I'm hungry and I want to spend time with my mom before she leaves. I'd enjoy spending time with you too, but that's on you."

Blaez's father set a restraining hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm sure he didn't mean it like that. We're sensitive to smells when we ... like ... a woman. The smell of other males on her sometimes causes us to overreact."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. You know I love having you by my side." Calculating as a snake, Anastasia watched him for a long minute before letting him take her hand again.

Cesare had seen cities, lost towns in the middle of nowhere and small shacks hidden in the woods. He'd lived in hell holes with rats and roaches, burrowed into garbage to stay warm, and bedded under the stars. But he'd never seen anything like the town beyond Primrose.

A crooked sign nailed to a tree read 'Vagabonds' Exile.' Almost unseen under it were carved letters worn smooth with time, 'Last stop for the unwanted.'

Elizabeth noticed his interest. "Since the formation of Primrose, there's been a Vagabonds' Exile, a place for those with no place. The towns always moved with the school, burning their homes, killing off livestock and migrating to wherever it set down roots. It's the only place they belong now."

The buildings had come from worlds butchered by stronger cultures, the remains of a thousand races. They were the cast off's that no one wanted, the losers in the wars of power, the examples of failure, the price of weakness. There's a special pain when even the lost and hated throw you away, when even the lowest turn away in disgust.

Only when you have no one, can you be what you want. There's no pressure to fit in when everyone's left. Solitude's blessing allowed the broken to grow into their truth without the hooked chains of others binding them to their needs.

A terracotta building of rich reds stood alone. Transported from a land of deserts, it bled memories of sweat soaked days, heat that never left, and hard days under punishing suns, from its squat walls. Thick wooden supports sticking out along the roof dotted the rough clay of burnt crimson. The building owned a humble dignity, honest in the way of hard work done for a living wage. A wooden porch of weathered wood stuck out from the house, bigger than the house it was tied to. Tables of unfinished wood and chairs formed a place where good food could be had for a fair price. Students dotted the restaurant with Mexican woman weaving in between tables laden with steaming food.

Sharing its fence was an old Japanese home. Behind the red cedar fence, a water garden spread out across the lawn, pools of glass still water offering sanctuary to fat koi. Waterfalls of moss-covered stone saturated the air with the sound of falling water. A bridge passed over the largest pond, ending in a dark stone path that led to a cedar porch. Wood wrapped around the building, protected by a roof of clay tiles, rice paper screens standing open to private rooms with delicate lacquered tables. Rich students wandered the garden with white porcelain cups in hand.

Facing the Japanese building from across the street was a wrought-iron fence with sharpened points along its top. A large man with olive skin stood next to the gate, eyes resting on Cesare for a moment before skipping to Lady Kali's harem. An obsidian lake of black marble led to stairs of white marble. Columns of virgin white stone held up a classically arched roof, mirror polished walls throwing the sun into the eyes of anyone rich enough to get inside the gate. Wooden doors stood open in welcome to the right people.

"You've never been to Vagabonds Exile?" Blaez's father asked. "I thought students could come out on weekends."

"I work as a Grounds Keeper on the weekends," Cesare said as he took in the town.

"That's very responsible of you. How long do you plan to do that?" There was something more than curiosity in the man's question.

"As long as she'll have me." Elizabeth gave him a warm smile at the raw truth.

"You're the one who helps Anastasia plan her fights? The one who makes her weapons?" Blaez's father continued, "I've heard the teachers are calling you 'Master of Arms.'"

Coughing, Blaez muttered. "More like 'Master of Stench.'" Pulling her hand from his with a glare, Anastasia stepped over to her mother's side and away from the family of wolves. Her glare was nothing compared to the homicidal look Elizabeth leveled at the wolf. The boy skittered back behind his parents' protection, his mother swatting his head like a puppy that had pissed on the floor. Blaez's cheeks flamed red at the open shaming.

"Sorry sir, but I don't know your name," Cesare said while holding his hand out to the man.

A small smile crossed the man's face. "Nice to see a young man with manners. Troy Strand, you can call me Troy."

"He doesn't help me." Anastasia met Troy's eyes. "He trains me, plans my fights and crafts my weapons. I just do what he tells me to. If it weren't for him … I would've left with my mom."

Troy studied her without a word. "Anastasia, I've done my share of black ops and no matter how well planned, it takes the right operator to pull it off. It was your life on the line. What you accomplished today … people will talk about for as long as this school stands." The man's words settled something in her eyes. It was one thing for Cesare to tell her, and quite another for her to hear it from a stranger.

Troy turned to face Cesare. "Can you tell me what your plan was? It would help us deal with the Wendigo."

"No." The group eyed Cesare curiously.

"What?" Troy asked.

"You don't seem like a bad guy, but I don't like your kind. In fact, I don't see a difference between werewolves and wendigo's. You killing them or them killing you is a win for me either way."

"Why? I've never done anything to you …" His eyes fell on his son. "Is it Blaez? Cesare, what you did today hasn't been done before. As good as Anastasia is, she couldn't have killed the wendigo without you. You could save hundreds of lives. This isn't about a child's anger, this is about saving lives."

He was right. This was bigger than Cesare's pride or his hate for Blaez. The werewolf was everything Cesare could never be, handsome as a model, built like a Greek god, an idol for the boys and eye candy for the girls. With all that going for him, no one cared if he got his kicks out of tormenting kids.

"I don't know you. If you die, I won't cry. Now if your son died, I'd dance a fucking jig and throw a party. The point is, I don't care about you. I don't care about your people. And before you ask, no, I don't want your money. I want nothing from you and yours … ever." Troy's mouth flattened into a thin line.

"If it had been another wolf asking …" Troy pressed.

"I might have thought about it, but the answer wouldn't change. I don't have much, but what's in my head's mine. Sharing it doesn't do me any good." He got a kick out of turning Blaez's dad down, it was a nice change after watching the boy get everything Cesare wanted.

People cared for people they'd never met, not the starving kid shivering under winters teeth next to their car. Endless thousands walked past the homeless boy, the old man freezing to death and the girl spreading for a place to sleep. They pay lip service to feeding the hungry, complain about an unfair world, talk for hours on how people should love each other. Everyone cares, but not enough to help.

The world had taught Cesare that love was a glass never full. You have one cup of give a shit and once you use it up, you're all out. He was using all his give a shit on himself and the girls. He didn't have anything left.

Troy opened his mouth before stopping abruptly. They'd arrived. Wisteria dominated restaurants front, tendrils spider webbing across grey stone, lavender flowers birthing themselves by the dozens from twisted roots. Students dressed in tailored suits and dinner dresses dotted the tables outside.

Sunshine poured through the floor to ceiling windows and into the dining room. Tables of dark brown shined with polish, with the floors a shade lighter. Bronze banisters and fixtures shone with care, their twisted mirrors warping the bodies of the people reflected in them. Singular paintings marked the wall, more than decoration, they were works of art. This wasn't a place you wandered into. You come with reservations, or you don't show up.

Lady Kali pulled him into the restaurant with her. Tall and slim, a man stood at a podium just inside the door, he was painfully well groomed in a black suit paired with a blinding white tie. He looked up from his seating chart, professional smile firmly in place. "I'm sorry madam, you're welcome to come back when you are in formal wear." His eyes narrowed on Cesare. "We don't serve your kind here, sir. You'd find other accommodations more to your liking elsewhere."

Lady Kali bared her teeth in naked threat. "Get your owner before I turn this shit hole into a burned out crater with your bones as a marker."

The man stilled under her savage eyes, the titan's presence detonating into the air. A sweep of lethal malice rushed through the restaurant, the heavy air strangling the world with its grip. The room shied away, eyes wide with terror. A collective shudder rippled through the watching monsters at the extinction event tearing into life.

A rotund man came at a lumbering run. Suit stained with sweat, the man bent over, gulping down frantic breaths as he stopped in front of them. "I'm sorry … Lady Kali. There was a problem in the back, and I had to take care of it. I'm sure we don't have a problem." His voice trembled on the edge of hysteria. Her name stilled the room. The myth's presence had frozen them with terror, but her name was the nightmare made real, a vengeful goddess of legend.

"He insulted my escort. I want an apology, or I'll take his skin."

The owner whipped around to the shivering man pinned in place by Lady Kali's predatory eyes. The owner waited a silent second for the man to talk before exploding. "Well, fucking apologize before she burns my place down!"

The man collapsed to his knees. Turning his face to the floor, he hid from Lady Kali's eyes. Tears dripped from his chin, wetting the floor with the man's fear. "I'm profoundly sorry Lady Kali, for any insult I gave you or your escort."

Kali dismissed him with her eyes, her dominate presence fading with her anger. "I have reservations." The owner jumped at her words, bowing low in a leading gesture.

The room watched the group walk across the restaurant, the owner running attendance on Lady Kali. Everyone greedily twisted in their seats for a glimpse of the Dark Mother. Their reverence was birthed in terror, its bloody leavings coated the unholy worship they had for her. She wasn't a person, she was a goddess, the chains of their adoration wrapped around her, hooks sunken into flesh, binding her to their needs.

The table was set up along a wall with seats along both sides, leaving the heads of the table free. The paranoid could put their backs to the wall, allowing them to see the angles of the room. Warm sunlight bathed the table from the windows along one wall, gifting the small island of solitude with a view of the private garden. A boundary of empty space divided the room in half, with Lady Kali's small party taking the lion's share.

"Picnics are cute, but they can't compare to eating inside with a view of a garden." Kali pulled him behind the table, with Elizabeth taking the other seat next to him. The others, even Anastasia, took the other side. Unless invited to sit next to Lady Kali, you didn't … even if you were her own daughter. Lady Kali's harem set up a perimeter in the space between their table and rest of the restaurant—a kill zone.

The owner bustled over with single page menus. Cesare thought for a minute that the menu was upside down before he realized it was him. He wasn't sure if it was in another language or just that he'd never eaten anything like it.

"I wanted to talk to you about the Donaldson pack," Troy said.

"Just because your son's fucking my daughter doesn't mean I care what you think." Lady Kali didn't bother to raise her head from her menu.

"Mom! We're not fucking!" Anastasia's face was lit with anger.

"Then why are you with him? From what I've seen, he isn't worth anything else. Take the dick and move on." Kali coolly eyed Blaez. "But then, you probably won't. Let me tell you, boy. A woman knows in the first ten seconds if she's willing to fuck a man. If you haven't gotten any yet, chances are you're not going to."

Blaez's mother nodded in the face of her son's horrified look. "What, it's true. I knew I'd fuck your dad from the moment I saw him." Eyes threaded with desire, she gave Troy a wink.

"Mom!"

"Don't be a prude. You're not human for Odin's sake!" she said.

"My son ..." Troy started.

Kali cut him off, her tone lazy - the laziness of a lion watching tourists, unsure if it's worth getting up to eat them. "Your son's a bully and a thug who likes to kill as much as he likes to fuck. I've seen a million like him and while some were good in bed, none of them were worth a damn out of it."

Troy sipped his water. He was a dangerous wolf, trained to kill and practiced in butchering the animals that crossed him. But he was nothing next to her, a bug tossed into a bonfire, it's incandescent death nothing next to the flames glory. "My son's not like that. He's a good kid. When he finishes the Reaving, he'll settle down and be an Alpha like his father." Bleaz straightened under his father's look of pride.

"The only way he becomes Alpha is if he can get someone to take it for him," Lady Kali replied dryly.

"I'll admit that he has … a ways to go." Troy said.

Kali looked up at Cesare. "What did you think of the two fights you've seen Blaez in?"

Cesare savored the bite of the carbonation from his soda. He rarely had the green to spare for a soda on the streets. Rolling Kali's question around, he knew nothing good would come of answering. It would only add fuel to the fire between him and Blaez. Lady Kali squeezed his hand, a demand without the words.

"It was a dogfight without the grace." The three wolves became murderously still, eyes tracking him. "A werewolf's body is designed for charging, it's a tank of meat. The upper body, the small legs, and its center of balance all lead to one thing—destructive power. In the first fight, Blaez walked up and stood toe to toe with a creature he knew spit acid. It wasn't a matter of strength, only who could regenerate. It was macho bullshit, pain for the sake of proving you can take it, kids playing at being fighters."

Cesare sipped his soda. "The next fight was more of the same. Fighting an equal opponent, he charged him. Without a plan, he lost the exchange with the wolf taking his throat. Only his ruthlessness got him out of having his head chewed off. It was professional stupid from start to finish, not even casual stupid but pro level shit. No finesse or forethought. No combat experience. Just two animals colliding, biting, and clawing. I know he's trained but I haven't seen it. Blaez's only worth is as an arrow catcher, a distraction so real soldiers can get the job done." Cesare met Blaez's lambent eyes.

A low growl shivered through the air, the water in Blaez's glass rippling under the base sound. Troy's hand kept the wolf boy in his seat and alive. Languidly drinking her soda, heat radiated off Lady Kali. Her power writhed underneath her skin, greedy with the need to feed.

Troy and his wife both took long drinks from their ice water, setting them down carefully. "Well thought out. And like I said, my son has a lot to learn. How would you have handled it today?"

"As a wolf or as myself?" Cesare asked carefully.

The question was more than it seemed. Revealing what he would do if he were a werewolf might be helpful to Troy, but telling him how he'd handle a wolf, well, that would be invaluable. It would showcase weaknesses they hadn't identified themselves.

Troy smiled tightly. "As a wolf, of course."

"Of course." Cesare matched Troy's smile with one of his own. "If I were Blaez, I'd have taken a bat with me. When the wolf charged, I'd toss the bat at its legs to tie them up. Once he fell, all that bulk's a weakness. Take his back and rip his spine out."

"I didn't need a fucking stick! How could I prove I was the best if it wasn't a fair fight?" Blaez snarled between clenched teeth.

"If you're in a fair fight, then you fucked up somewhere," Cesare said dryly. "You got lucky. Nothing more. Only amateurs play fair—professionals cheat."

"Interesting. I believe we were talking about the Donaldson pack before we got sidetracked." Iron control was clamped down around the anger that surged in Troy's eyes.

Lady Kali leaned back with hooded eyes, a smile playing across her lips. "Cesare, you know the reason I don't have any wolves with me? I cast them out of the Andhērē Rosa after they deserted me to the wendigo's mercies. Years later a Bouda clan—that's what those who can change into hyenas call themselves—came onto my land chased by a pride of lions. I gave them territory and a place to belong. Since then, they've never wavered, killing, dying, and bleeding for me and mine." She sipped from Cesare's soda with a possessive smile.

"Until now." Troy interjected.

Kali held her hand up, making an "iffy" gesture. "From the outside, it can look that way. Like all Na'wal, they're prone to the Furia. They've lost four in the past year to its madness, bursting into full form and killing anything in reach until put down." She shook her head. "It was a nightmare, but we cleaned it up. They're down members, and a good-sized wolf pack can field a good forty killers. Having them both would balance Bouda pack without giving the wolves dominance in numbers."

Troy moved quickly into the lull. "The Donaldson pack would be an asset to the Andhērē Rosa. They're forty strong and haven't had a member fall to the Furia in over fifty years. I know the man, he's both strong and experienced. I think you would get along well with him. I know he's only looking for a meeting."

Disregarding Troy, the goddess eyed Cesare. "What do you think?"

The table went silent at her question or more for who she'd asked. There was a curious look on Troy and his wife's face, while Blaez seemed ready to leap across the table and go for Cesare's throat. Anastasia watched the interplay with interest while Elizabeth's silent support anchored his side. What caught his eye was Nzinga's desperate eyes.

What did it matter to Nzinga what he thought? He was nothing more than a bit of fluff Lady Kali played with. Where would Nzinga's pack go if Lady Kali kicked them out? Did it even matter? They'd be forced to leave their land and homes, maybe not today, but the end of their time with Lady Kali would be marked if she accepted the wolves.

The decision wasn't difficult. The wolves had both numbers and stability. Nzinga could see that as well as him. The choice was a foregone one. Still, Lady Kali hesitated.

Cesare looked across the table at Troy. "The Alpha would stand with Kali if she faced another wendigo?" Troy paled at the casual use of Kali's name without the honorific.

"He'd stand beside her." Troy's smooth words brought a red shine to Nzinga's as the animal bled through.

"You lie." The two words hit Troy with the force of a sledgehammer to the balls. His hands clenched the edge of the table, fury exploding from his eyes as they went incandescent yellow. Cesare continued in the face of the werewolf's rage. "You said the alpha was experienced. Then he's had challengers and killed to keep his place and protect his family. If he stood with Kali he'd be locking with the wendigo while Kali destroyed it … which would get him killed."

"Anastasia did it," Blaez spat out. The cold fury that came Blaez's way from Anastasia was second only to the acidic look Kali shot him.

"Children should know their place when adults are talking." Blaez shrank into his chair at Lady Kali's words.

"Anastasia won and looked good doing it." Cesare shared a smile with Anastasia. "She executed the plan with calm, cool precision. Something I've never seen from a werewolf. Your bodies don't allow you to back up or retreat, you either win on the first push or die. Your meat waiting for a butcher. If this Alpha stood with Kali against a wendigo, he'd die. Since he's experienced, he'd know that and wouldn't stand with her." Cesare took a drink under their watchful eyes. "A wise wolf would send in some of his pack as support but stay away himself. If she won he could claim he supported her, if she lost, he'd be positioned to take more territory."

Troy's words were cold and clear. "You're saying the Bouda are stupid?"

"I'd say committed. Everything they have depends on Kali winning, their lives are in her hands. They rise or fall on her word. That's the blood and guts of it. Kali looked after them and they love her. They owe everything to her. You can't buy that kind of loyalty and dependence. Your wolves could never give Kali that."

"The Donaldson pack would only ever be her allies. Powerful ones, but she wouldn't own them body and soul like the Bouda. For the alpha to offer that kind of loyalty to Kali would be cutting his own throat. It would lock out too many possibilities." Seeing the question in their eyes, he continued, "He'd need to prepare for the possibility that Kali would fall. Excessive loyalty to her would make him number one on any kill list. It would stop him from making deals behind her back that would favor his pack. I could go on, but you get the point. He'd be a fool to tie his fortune to her."

Kali looked triumphantly at the others, her daughter included. "That's why he's my escort." Elizabeth gave a slight cough. "Our escort." Kali amended easily, with a wink at Elizabeth.

Troy shared a long look with his wife. Finally, the woman gave a slow nod of agreement to an unknown question. "That's … extremely well thought out. I wouldn't have guessed someone your age could think so ... calculatingly. You're full of surprises."

"I'm not the smart kind," Cesare said.

"There're different kinds of smart. I know people in the military who would be interested in sponsoring you." The offer was given with a straightforwardness Cesare appreciated.

"Dad!" Blaez was incredulous.

Looking sadly at his son, Troy explained. "You don't see it. Anastasia came to this school as an unknown. Her first fight had better than even odds she'd lose. Yet, she made a showing that people are still talking about." He paused, awe taking over his eyes. "Today, she killed a wendigo! The boy neatly eviscerated my argument for taking the Donaldson pack into Lady Kali's territory. And did it so well that even I wouldn't take them now. And I know them. You don't throw away talent like that. You cultivate it."

Everyone turned their attention to their menus. Unlike him, they seemed to understand what the dishes were. The problem was they didn't list any of the ingredients. Instead, there were just a few lines of entrées.

"Cesare, do you need help?" Elizabeth asked quietly. As grateful as he was for the offer, he could do without everyone staring at him.

Embarrassment flushed through Cesare in a cold wave, settling into a sickly pit in his stomach. Setting the menu down, Cesare whispered, "I don't know what any of this is."

"There's a first time for everything. The first time I was taken to an Italian Restaurant, I killed the waiter and burned the place to the ground." Lady Kali gave a fatalistic shrug. "This has to be better than that."

"What don't you understand?" A born teacher, Elizabeth couldn't see someone struggling and not help them.

"Pretty much everything. The only thing I've ever had was spaghetti and lasagna." Both looked at him in question. "It's easy to cook, cheap, and can feed a lot of people. Food banks cook it for meals—especially for the holidays." Elizabeth was on the edge of asking but kept quiet on noticing the others watching.

"Is that what you want?" Kali asked.

"I don't know. It's not on the menu ..." Cesare started.

Lady Kali gave a low, dangerous laugh. "If I tell them to cook it, they'll damn well cook it. I don't give a rat's cock if it's on the menu or not. Now, do you want to try something new or have them make you some spaghetti?"

Lady Kali waited patiently for his answer. It was then that he understood the depth of her power. People walk through life penned in by laws and codes. What you can wear, how you can act, even what you can eat in a restaurant. Cesare watched what he said around people, stayed in line instead of cutting, walked around the bush instead of jumping over it. He followed the rules because standing out meant pain.

From the day they cut our foreskins to sell to science until the day we die and they fill our bodies with poison. We're caged in by the rules of society, brutalized for coloring outside the line, shunned for being different, punished for being true to ourselves.

We follow rules. Even those who live outside of society bow to the whip. The nature of an outsider is defined by how they don't fit in, whether it's the clothes they wear or the books they like. They're defined by the few rules they don't follow, not by the thousands that control their lives.

Lady Kali was beyond the hooked chains. Her difference was the primal truth of a Great White so powerful she didn't need to obey the rules of lesser creatures. They didn't apply to her, an ancient evil that had endured the light of humanity, a darkness greater than all the petty candles that flickered in the endless night. The world would bow before her or it would pay for its disobedience.

He'd never known anyone that could live that way. Without boundaries, stripped of the stop signs that littered his life. "I think ... I'd like to try something new, but I don't know what any of these things are."

"Easily fixed," Lady Kali said, summoning a waiter through the ring of protection with a curt gesture. She handed the waiter the menu and demanded he explain the dishes … all of them. The man accepted the order with professional grace. After each dish was explained, Kali waited for Cesare's nod before letting the man continue.

The three of them decided to try different dishes and share the food. The production was embarrassing, with Blaez biting his tongue to keep from saying anything. Surprisingly, neither Troy nor his wife showed any amusement at the show.

As the food came, the table broke up into isolated pockets with Elizabeth, Lady Kali, and Cesare on one island and an ocean away from the werewolf's and Anastasia.

Cesare headed to the bathroom, passing beyond the harem's boundary of safety. Nzinga peeled off from the other slaves and fell into step behind him. Since others had left without an escort, he guessed this was personal.

He came out of the bathroom with his knife nestled snuggly along the back of his arm. Nzinga gave the arm with the hidden knife a knowing look. A trick that fooled a school bully wouldn't work on a professional.

"I didn't come to fight," she said.

"I bet you thought the same thing last time."

Nzinga grimaced, acknowledging the point. "I lost it, and Lady Kali will make sure I pay for it. I wanted to apologize." He nodded. He wasn't accepting her apology, just letting her know he'd heard her. When someone tries to kill you, well, you don't forgive them, and you don't forget. Anastasia was different ... somehow.

She held her temper with both hands, red eyeshine flashing before disappearing under the lie. "By Fenris, you're difficult!" Cesare widened his stance, just in case. "I wanted to thank you for what you said back there. Being part of the Andhērē Rosa has been more than my people have ever had. It's everything to us."

Shaking his head, he slipped past her without taking his eyes off the bouda. "She'd already decided. It was a test to see what I'd say and how the wolves would react. Lady Kali does what Lady Kali wills."

Nzinga persisted. "I still want to thank you. Even one arrow can change the path of a war."

Kali's eyes were trained on the hallway when he appeared, looking past him at Nzinga. Kali hadn't sent her to watch over him, but she'd allowed the Bouda to follow anyway. She was running her own game. Like everyone, she had her own hustle working.

Hours later, they walked out of the place with Cesare more wistful than he would've liked. It would be nice to think he could come back. But he'd never have made it past the door without Kali. Places like this were for people who had homes and money.

Kali and Anastasia locked in a tight hug. They held each other for a long minute before Kali stepped back, her hand running down Anastasia's hair in a gentle caress. "You did well today. I'm proud of you." A lone tear traced down Lady Kali's exotic face. "You should know it was Cesare who stopped me from ending the fight and pulling you out of that bloodbath."

"I love you, mom. I wish you could stay longer," Anastasia said quietly.

"You wanted this and ... maybe it's for the best. I'll see you next month." They gave each other one last hug before Anastasia walked away with the wolves.

Kali watched her daughter take up her boyfriend's hand. "You'll watch over her?"

"Do you think I'd let anyone hurt her? After all the work I've put into her?" Kali smiled at him, going up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"I think you'd burn the world for someone you love… and count the cost light." Shrugging, she continued. "In that, we're similar. The world has given me nothing, but those I love have given me everything." Elizabeth walked away, leaving them in their moment of privacy.

Kali looked up at him in the twilight of the day's death. "Call me."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Cesare said as he took a careful step back.

"Because of Viktor." Lady Kali followed him step for step. She was a hunter of men, money, land, or blood, she'd slaughtered her way across the ages and wouldn't give up on what she wanted.

"I don't know what you want, but a part-time girl isn't what I'm looking for," Cesare said.

"It doesn't have to be like that. Viktor's just a sport fuck. I can be faithful when I'm here."

"And that's the problem … while you're here." He continued before she could cut in, "It might mean nothing to you but it mean's everything to me. I want to love someone and know they're mine. You … can never give me that. I won't walk down a road that cuts me with every step." Cesare's eyes danced away from hers.

She studied him, words coming slow and careful. "I'm not trying to push you. Yes, I'd like to date and try you between the sheets, but I honestly think we could have something good. But you're right. I'm not willing to give up sex on the side for you. I might only see you once a month. What am I going to do in the time between?"

Cesare laughed, low and hard. "I don't know, be loyal? This is why it won't work. If you have to ask, then you're not the one for me. I want a woman whose flesh is mine, not one who can't see the point of being faithful."

This couldn't go anywhere. She was rich, with the kind of money that bought nations. She'd lead armies into a war that had started before humanity had crawled out of caves, carved an empire into the bleeding flesh of the world, incinerated cities and was worshipped as a living goddess. She was a tactical nuke, an abomination of darkling glory. Even if they could get past her ideas on sex they had nothing in common.

"Why does this mean so much to you? I can't have anything you haven't seen before." He gestured toward himself.

She giggled, raising an eyebrow at him. "I don't chase cock. Half the world has them and having tried more than my fair share I can tell you, even the best dick is overrated. I love sex and intimacy. I love the touch of a person who wants me. But I don't chase for sex. It's too easy to find another just like him. No, I want something more from you." Something flickered in her eyes. "I don't need to be protected or taken care of, but I want someone who want's Kali the woman, not the myth."

"I like you, but I won't chase you hoping you'll change." Lady Kali didn't flinch from the hard words.

"I'm not giving up on this. I'm not giving up on us, but you're right. Until one of us changes, this conversation isn't going to go anywhere." Standing on tiptoes, her kiss was a feathers brush against his lips.

She walked away, her faded jeans and snarky t-shirt hidden as her harem possessively surrounded her in a gilded cage of slavery. The combined power of that pack was enough to kill everyone in this town. The power of an individual Umbrae Lunae was monstrous, but it was nothing next to a solid fist of them wedded to slaughter.

Cesare turned away as they were lost from view, Elizabeth falling in beside him. They walked slowly, the way people do when they don't have anywhere to go and every reason to stay. This was their time. On weekends they could pretend that what they had wouldn't end in tears. Maybe it was just the day, or just his mood, but he couldn't hide his eyes from the fault lines that spider webbed his friendship with the older woman.

She was so much older than him. That was one reason he liked her, but how long could she be with someone who was a child in her eyes? It was easy to say the years didn't matter, but it rang hollow when you understood what those years meant. They're the music you like, the people you remember, the sex you've had, the issues that define your era, how you look at life and your place in it … it's so much more than just days.

She was more than he could ever be. He'd found her three Master's Degree's shoved into a box in the cottage. She didn't need to teach high school kids; she chose to teach them. Successful, college educated, with a future ahead of her, she'd claimed her place in the world. His future was a shit apartment and taking the bus to work.

He tucked the dark thoughts away. Just because it would end in tears didn't mean he had to drink from the poisoned well tonight. "Interesting night."

She laughed as she bumped shoulders with him. "She's old, Cesare, like the oldest thing besides the Mistress. That's so old that she was around when the Umbrae Lunae came into being. She's worshipped by monster and man as a living goddess. The morals you grew up with are meaningless to her. She comes from a different age. Killing, sex, right and wrong … she's got her own way of looking at the world. And Cesare, she's never met anyone that had the power to force her to change."

"How far back do you guys go?" Cesare asked

"We had a mutual friend a few years back," Elizabeth said quietly.

Anastasia waited along the path. The women shared a look before Elizabeth nodded. "Meet me in the cottage when you're done, Cesare," Elizabeth said as she left them alone.

Anastasia broke the silence as they walked side by side. "Thanks for today. I owe you more than I can pay." Anastasia grinned at him. "Why can't you just fuck me and be done with it?"

Laughing, he looked her up and down. "You have a high opinion of your talents."

Her grin widened into something wicked. "Well, you can always find out." Heat and desire twisted between them, shadowed by something more, something neither would admit.

"Seriously, thank you. I know you keep saying it's me who wins the fight, but I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. I don't forget that. Ever. I owe you … everything …" She watched him as they walked with shoulders touching. "You've done more for me than anyone else, including my mom." Silence fell between them at the mention of Kali.

"So, you and my mother, huh?" She asked.

Cesare shrugged uncomfortably. "Not really. I think she took a shine to me, nothing serious. I told her I'm not into sharing and that should be it."

"Let me tell you something, Cesare," Anastasia said wearily. "My mother guards her name like, well, I would say like her pussy, but she gives that out like candy. I'll just say that she's never allowed anyone except her daughters to call her by her first name." Anastasia watched him from the corner of her eye. "She won't forget you."

"It's not that I don't like her. But I don't want what she's offering. It's fine for her to say it's just sex, but it's not just sex to me. I want someone who'll be with me. A person I can count on. If I can't count on them to keep their legs closed, how can I expect them to have my back."

"I think that's a good choice. I can't see it working out between you. She's been with a lot of men ... well, men and women."

"Considering who you're dating, you're not really one to talk."

"I know. Just saying." She stopped as she choose her words carefully. "I think you and Blaez could've been friends."

"Small chance of that."

"After today, you're right. You know I care about him." She paused to look at Cesare. "But you're my friend and I care about you too."

"Good to know," Cesare said flatly.

"Why do you always say it like that?" She snapped.

"You're not there, Anastasia. You're not there when his pack corners me. You're not there when they insult me. You don't sit with me or even talk to me. When the chips are down, I can't count on you. It's easy to care. It's hard to do something." The soft words tore through the air. They were the bloody ravings of a beaten child, the call of a tortured friend for a helping hand.

"I've talked to Blaez. He says ..." Anastasia started quickly.

He cut her off softly. "He lies. It's what guys do."

"Or you lie." Anastasia said, just as softly.

He smiled with a bitter laugh. "You know how you can tell a guy's lying? His mouth's open."

Maybe he should've taken it personally that she thought he was lying. Maybe it should've offended him, but he could see where she was coming from. She was gorgeous, the kind of woman that men would lie, cheat, and steal for. If she'd been born in another age, songs would have been written about her. Both Blaez and Cesare were close to her and yet, one of them was lying. So how did she decide who was being truthful?