Page 47 of Claiming Sarah

He grinned wickedly, glanced down toward his cock, then back up at me. “Parts of me could be weaponry, yes.”

I blushed again but did my best to hold firm. “I don’t know that I should come with you. I don’t know you at all. And yes, your reputation precedes you.”

“How else do you really get to know someone, aside from spending time with them?” he asked reasonably.

He has a point, and I do want to discuss returning Leda to him.“Okay, valid, but—”

“If you join me, you can discover whether all those nasty rumors about me are true, or not. Plus, my tower box has its ownbar, where I carry the best banwine on Halla, far better than the swill they sell down here.”

I felt my resolve crumbling and fought to keep my wits about me. “That is tempting, but—”

“Come on.” His devious smile rose, messing with my head and making me weak to resist him. “I’ve got the best seat in the house.”

If I don’t go with him, he might cause trouble for Deacon and Jac. Or he might not take Leda back. I’m only doing this to protect them. Right? My thoughts were confusing, and eventually, my worry just… faded away like wisps of smoke.

I accepted his bone knife and tucked it into my belt. “I’ll come with you,” I heard myself say, while something inside of me tried to push back against that decision, and failed.

He held out his arm for me to take, and I laughed at his gallant gesture. “You’re a ghost. I can’t take your arm.”

“Try me,” he challenged.

So, I did. I looped my arm through his, and to my shock, I could feel his body. “How?”

He chuckled, low and a bit depraved. “Dear Sarah, I can show you all kinds of tricks.”

CHAPTER 14

Jacaranda

When the drums began, the fighters had just finished getting oiled up and dressed in brown loin leathers and sandals. There were forty-one of us, varying in race and size. Some of the fighters were Ladrians like me—well, taller than me. I was closer to the height of a couple Gorrks, but they had not been very friendly, a rarity in my experience. It was bizarre to watch the girls try to oil them up—the Gorrk’s gelatinous bodies were already shiny. But they had fun trying.

A pair of Doxudes kept a distance between themselves, glaring at one another occasionally. No one knew the source of their enmity and everyone but the girls kept their distance from them. Their shiny black scales glimmered in the low light of the oil room, but their solid black eyes looked lifeless. I had never been comfortable with Doxudes—I tried not to judge, but their snake-like appearance had always put me off of them. Withoutlegs, they moved like animated liquid with arms and no legs. Doxudes were unpleasant at the best of times.

This was clearly not the best of times. Thank the gods that I had stepped in and taken Sarah’s place for her.

A few of the fighters were Ladrian women, and they were given loin leathers and strips of leather to cover their breasts, as well. They had also been in the baths, being treated like kings by the naked servant girls. They ate up the attention and sex just as much as the men had.

When I asked questions, I’d get one or two words out of the other fighters. It was odd—I had been in similar situations before, paid fights, war—but it was never so grim. There was always at least one chatty guy in the mix at my prior fights. I couldn’t figure out why these men were so cold.

While we waited for the battles to begin, I had sized up my competitors, unsure who was to fight who in the arena. None of us knew. The matches were decided at the last minute, based on the choosing of Jason Vestig, Helios’ brother, as we gathered in the tunnel near the entry to the fighting pit.

The corridor had a dirt floor and barred windows so we could see the arena, and splinter-lined wooden benches opposite each other on both walls. At the end of the tunnel, an equally shabby wooden door would release us into the arena. There was no light, save for what poured in through the barred windows.

Outside, thousands of people had gathered to watch us beat each other senseless. I wasn’t opposed to such things, but the shouts and cheers of the crowd seemed to be a lot of excitement for twenty fights, give or take.Perhaps this is all the fun ghosts can have. Who am I to judge?A large gate sat at the far side of the arena, and I assumed it must be for carriages for more elaborate battles.

Scanning the fighting pit, I noted the weapons and flags displayed on the walls. My eyes focused on a gleaming axe thatcaught the suns’ light near the exit of the tunnel.That blade—it’s not dull or wooden.I studied the other nearby weapons and my heart galloped in my chest.These are not exhibition weapons.

These are meant to kill.

Fuck. Ice shot through my veins, danced up my spine, and threatened to take over.This can’t be happening.One of the girls came by with a banwine sack, sharing it with the fighters. She was taller than me, with tan skin and gray hair. Her shine was almost invisible in the tunnel—the light was so low, it was hard to see anyone’s. Rounded like the other servant girls, she had a sweet smile and kind brown eyes.

When she got to me, I asked, “These fights—how do they usually go?”

She smiled at me, like I was a lost child. “Whatever do you mean?”

“The fights, they’re deadly?”

She giggled. “Well of course, silly.”

---