Page 43

CIRCE

“ S tab your lover in the heart.”

Only that thought consumes my existence. Her voice commands. Her will is my own.

Fulfilling that command will fulfill me. Complete me.

A pang of heartache stings somewhere in the distance, a fleeting sensation.

I must do as I am told.

Dashing forward, stooping in mid-run to snatch the knife tossed by one of the armed security guards lining the perimeter of the arena. My arm flexes, my blade speeds in, a bare chest fills my vision. My target.

“Ero, defend!” Ananke barks.

His hand lashes out, deflecting my strike and slamming an elbow down on my shoulder. I dive with the blow, tucking and rolling to my feet. My instinct draws my guard back around, expecting retaliation.

None arrives.

Ero stands stock still, waiting for me.

Another attack, this one sudden and explosive, with so little space between us. Slash down to disable his blocking forearm, jab in?—

Palm slaps the slash wide, my recovery is flawless, but still curled into the crook of his arm and forced straight up over his shoulder, scoring a slice along his trap. And he freezes there, staring forward as if I’m not even there.

Hesitation rattles around my orders, if only because I see something of myself in the way he’s reacting. Only following the single order given. Ananke’s desire reasserts itself and I pull back?—

“Kiss the boy!”

And oh, I do.

Both hands around his neck, slamming my lips against his.

Ero thrusts an arm between us, breaking our lip-lock and shoving me aside. I lunge in again and he dodges.

“Catch her!” Ero’s arms invite me into them when I aim for his mouth. “Twirl to the beat, now, and don’t hold back.”

Lights and faces swirl as we fall into a side-stepping spin, right on the downbeats of the orchestra.

Dizzying arcs take my feet from the ground, Ero’s arms twined around my waist. Letting go, I arch backward over that embrace, my arms and legs bending away from him in the pull of our orbiting force.

“Stop!”

On a dime, mistress.

My lungs heave, Ero huffs. Both of us frozen in place, skidding to a halt still interlocked. A thrill zips up my spine, elated to have completed each task thus far. Ananke smiles at me, tilting her head in approval.

Sweet satisfaction rolls over me. Undercut with a sickening clench of my stomach.

“Dual blades, to the death, and do not fail!” Her words are punctuated by the shink of four sword tips sinking into the dirt between foundation stones.

I barely blink and the grips fill my fists, rising to split Ero’s doublehanded downward chop. My defense throws his arms wide, my kick lands dead center, launching him backward.

Thrust, slash, backhand, reverse?—

All into thin air. Ero springs to the left outside my reach, hammering my blade with a resonant bell toll of steel. The vibration reverberates up my arm, numbing my wrist and elbow.

Pain lances through my entire arm, but it’s irrelevant.

Pain does not factor into to the death . Sideswipe, double thrust, parry.

Suddenly we’re in sync, metal whirring into windmills as we simultaneously attack and defend. First I pace forward, keeping him backpedaling as four fatal pinwheels form a helix of strikes between us. Ero skips one beat suddenly, rounding and forcing me to strafe.

Then it’s me backing away, flourishing faster to prepare my next assault.

Stop thrust, I break his rhythm, bashing both blades wide. I leap, knees bent, my arms stretched back behind my head to arc down through the top of his skull.

“Mount each other like it’s your first time!”

My legs spread, my eyes widen, heart and tummy fluttering.

Ero takes my weight in stride, releasing his weapons to scoop his hands under my ass. Instantly, we’re a flurry of kissing lips, seeking hands, eager and urgent.

“This is a travesty!” a voice shouts from the stands.

We don’t relent, Ero hiking my skirt and preparing to?—

“Halt, my pets.” Ananke sighs, the picture of a patient matron. We stay put, turning to see what drew our lady’s attention.

“Is there a problem, Prime Minister ?” She says it like she’s calling him out.

Nervous glances and bowed heads respond to the implication, particularly from the world leaders and politicians present.

Outing their positions in the presence of some of the world’s most notorious criminals is one thing, outing their identities to other political rivals, far more dangerous.

“This is outrageous. Sickening.”

“Care to elaborate?” Dom sneers, turning in his seat.

“I do not wish to watch two assassins fornicate in public. I was of the mind that we were here to witness a technological advancement or some sort of biological breakthrough. Not whatever this is.”

“Sit down, you uptight prick!” Vipera gestures with his fingers, swiping out from his chin.

Ananke stalls a hand toward her partner.

“I assure you, Geraldo , this is a biological and technological marvel .” Her tone drips condescension and tightly contained fury.

“You would have us believe they are mind controlled? Please.” A sneering woman stands this time, decked out in sparkling diamonds and shimmering, gauzy fabric from head to toe. “This spectacle, however amusing, is clearly scripted.”

Her comment gains traction, garnering murmurs and dissent through the ranks of the guests. Others chime in, criticizing the show.

“Allow me to continue and you will see—” Ananke raises her voice.

“We’ve seen plenty. You’ve wasted our time!” shouts another man.

“Ungrateful fucking—” Dom starts.

“Senator, you should sit down.” Ananke’s voice drops, her tone darkening. I know it too well.

Shivers of fear and fatigue ripple through my legs as I hold perfectly still.

Several groups shuffle toward the ends of their aisles, bickering and making threats of wasted time and money. Some reach the edge of the theater when dozens of sturdy men in suits block the exits. Every one of them is decked out with heavy artillery.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

“I am not done with my demonstration. You will extend me the courtesy of letting me complete my?—”

“We’ve extended quite enough of our courtesy and patience,” the glittering woman snarls.

“ Enough ? Yes. I have had about enough indeed,” Ananke snaps. Lifting the mic to her mouth, she croaks a word through the speakers, one I’ve never heard before. “ σιγ?ω !”

Immediately, the chaos settles.

Not a single guest opens their mouth. They can’t .

“There. You see?” Ananke faces the mass of stunned onlookers. “That is how one must behave. Allow my men to escort you back to your seats, I implore.”

“Effective. I would have just started shooting,” Dom muses.

“So unrefined,” Ananke teases, toying with his salt and pepper hair. “So brutal.”

Feet shuffle in the stillness, bodies obeying while their owners gape at Ananke, at one another. In seconds, the gathering is returned to order.

“Hm. I truly did not want to implement that method of delivery, but you left me little choice. Over the past few days, you have all been party to a very limited and specific input. Namely visual and audio sensory cues, introduced through the light shows and other entertainment at my estate. Additionally, there may have been some spiking of the punch, as it were…”

“This is madness,” one older man grits out in a thickly accented voice.

“This is order . The new world order. My soldiers will change the face of war. Your countries can be led through suggestion, with a figurehead in place. One who waits eagerly for your council. With carefully placed agents, we might all secure our interests and cease to bite at one another’s ankles. ”

“I am impressed,” an old gentleman manages to offer, through a considerable effort. “But you could just force us to give you our empires. Our fortunes.”

“Your Highness, I have no intention of stealing from you or interfering with your various entities of government. I only influenced all of you enough to get my point across. Consider it the power of suggestion and a proof of concept. One that will fade within the next twenty-four hours.”

“Intriguing.” More guests find their voices.

“How much?”

“When can you?—”

Ananke laughs mirthlessly, raising a hand. “There will be an opportunity to discuss any questions you have. You saw firsthand how one could manipulate a crowd. You saw the start of my prototypes’ performance. Let me show you how far they will go.”

Seemingly placated, or scared into submission, the onlookers’ attention returns to Ero and I.

The humming sensation in my head fades slightly as we wait for another command. I glance over at Ero, blinking a few times.

“Er…” I mouth, barely making a sound.

“Circe?” He side-eyes me, his frown tentative.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know,” he utters without moving his lips.

Something violent writhes through the murk of my subconscious. Fighting back.

“Circe, my treasure, tell our friends here how you feel about Ero.”

My jaw bunches. Willpower wavers, filling my reserve like a trickle in a bathtub.

“I-I love him with all of my heart,” the words slither out of my throat like she gagged them out of me. Burning rims my eyes.

“Touching. Stab him.”

“I do not want to harm him.” I manage to whisper emotionlessly.

“You won’t. Just draw blood. His leg should do.”

My hand trembles, my legs lower me to where we left our blades moments before.

“Ero, do not interfere.”

The tip of the sword darts forward of its own accord, sinking into the meat of Ero’s quad. An inch of the point finishes, scarlet budding around it. Ero never even twitches.

But the coiling outrage within me shrieks, jerking against torturous bonds.

“Now, the coup de grace. Dear one, point that gun right between his eyes.” Her words lilt with meaning, a taunt against a previous transgression.

From the depths of my fugue, I see Ero’s open arms waiting for me to?—

I failed before.

When I shot him. I couldn’t stop myself. Only redirect the bullet by a fraction of an inch. It’s not enough this time. Missing the mark by inches will still kill him.

Someone places a gun in my hand.

The world rocks on its axis, quaking up through my bare feet, all the way to my white-knuckled grip on the pistol. Ero stares at me, watching my eyes instead of the barrel rising toward his forehead.

“Ero, be a doll, and allow her to take your life.”

“My life is already hers, Ananke,” Ero mutters, failing to a whisper. “Trust the end of the fall, love.”

What does he mean?

Cold metal dents the skin between his eyes. Onyx eyes that never leave my face.

Trust the end …

“Get ready to fire,” she draws the words out.

My finger slides over the trigger.

Trust the fall?

A faint, almost inaudible melody hums from Ero’s barely parted lips. My heart skips a beat.

His voice is smooth. Resonant. Beautiful.

Just like I imagined it after we fell from the roof in Lisbon…

Sound drifts up and across my tongue, buzzing across my lips as I join him, harmonize with him.

Time holds her breath.

Memory claps like thunder, a rush of images and sounds.

In a split second, I see our time together, the real, our fabricated life in the lab, the missions and adventures all over the world.

The feel of his body as we danced across the globe after every kill, every robbery and rescue.

And how we took each other over and over again each night, giving into our growing desire for comfort and connection with one another.

All of this bombards me right up to a final thought, an impulse that strikes a fraction of a second before Ananke opens her mouth to command me to?—

I rip my hand back.

“Shoo—”

The blast of the bullet exploding from the chamber ruptures my ear drum as I press my hand to the side of my head. A rail spike of pain impales my skull.

I look up from where I dropped to a tight huddle around my knees. Ero gazes down at me with a wicked grin, looks back toward Ananke.

Dom springs from his seat beside her, shock on his face.

Her expression is irate, confused. She’s shouting.

And I cannot hear her voice.

Taking Ero’s hand, I surge to my feet, into his arms, watching his face as he shouts, “NOW!”

A colossal blast nearly takes us from our feet.