Friday April 24th 2015

Cesare started down the stairs, rolling his shoulders in a vain hope to loosen stressed muscles. Despite the fight being tomorrow, Tamlin pushed him to collapse. Or maybe Cesare had needed a time where tomorrow’s death match was pushed from his mind. A few hours where he wasn’t juggling the lives of the people he loved.

Turning the corner, Cesare stopped as he felt Kali. There was nothing like her, a touch of malice in the air, sexually charged violence waiting to be unleashed, a locus of power straining the strings of reality. It was as unmistakable as a tornado cloud. Kids streamed around his bubble of space without ever crossing the boundary. Done with callous casualness, they marked him as a diseased thing unworthy of being touched.

Her presence shuddered through the others, a shoal of fish flinching away from ebony darkness. She appeared with her harem arrayed around her, students scurrying out of her way, ducking heads in bows of respect, avoiding the dark eyes of the goddess that looked over them as the pale shades they were. She was immortal, horrifically powerful, as rich as god, they were nothing more than blades of grass for an abomination like her.

Kali’s eyes locked onto Cesare with the need of a drowning man seeking air. Rushing forward, her steps quickly turned into a run as she threw herself into Cesare’s arms. Whirling her around, Cesare pulled the goddess close, her fever hot aura embracing him. The prickle of sweat along the back of his neck a reminder of her essential otherness.

“I missed you,” Kali said, a scorching whisper burning across his neck.

She was hot as a bonfire, heating the air around them to searing life. A monstrous flame that burned and devoured everything it touched, not out of malice, simply because her nature was destruction. Everyone danced along the edge of that hunger, the licking flames burning her needs into their flesh.

“I missed you too,” Cesare said just as quietly. Kali was complicated, demanding, amoral, and lethal on a level he could only liken to a nuclear bomb, but he liked her. The very things that made her dangerous drew him to her, he craved her murderous heat the way he did the wet warmth of a woman.

Leaning back, Kali searched his face for the changes time had inflicted on him. She was dressed in her own style, a tight black t-shirt, bold purple letters proclaiming ‘.454 Casull beats a stake every time bitches.’ with the grinning face of a hell hound riding her midriff.

“You have a plan.” The statement was sure as death and shadowed by fear.

Shrugging, Cesare looked away, unwilling to answer the implied question. His arm looped around her shoulder with easy familiarity, a comfortableness that was as scary as it was sure. Wrapping her arm around his waist, she rode the belt line, hand dipping down to cup his ass.

“I always have a plan,” Cesare said lightly, making it clear he didn’t want to talk about it. He couldn’t take having someone punch holes in the only plan he had. Cesare had learned never to share his hopes; the world was as deadly to hope as the void between the stars was to flesh. Cold and hard, it smothered and froze, killed and tortured, until hope screamed in agonized death. Better to keep it hidden in his heart, sheltered in his deepest shadows, away from burning light and hateful truth. It might be a sickly, diseased thing, but it was his until someone tore it from him.

The harem surrounded them. The wet workers were nothing more than pieces of jewelry, Cesare noted them in the same way he did furniture. They were Kali's worshippers; they'd given their sacred individuality over to her. She ordered their lives as she desired, set the price for Charon before he rowed them across the river Styx. She decided when they'd die and for what.

Rounding the corner, Anastasia and Alexandra stopped, faces clearing with blank neutrality. They passed through the harems cordon as if it wasn't there. Anastasia had no reason to bow to her mother’s slaves, and Alexandra had long ago made it clear nothing would come between her and Cesare.

“It’s good to see you mother,” Anastasia said eyes drifting to where the other woman’s arm was wrapped around Cesare. Kali met her daughter’s eyes without a hint of shame, tightening her arm around Cesare.

“I’ve missed you honey,” Kali said, only Cesare felt the tremble of Kali stopping herself from trying to hug her daughter. “Are you ready?”

The tension that had tightened Anastasia’s face loosened with her smile. “I think so, Cesare's been working me like a dog,” she said without a hint of humor.

Seeing the confrontation pass, Kali relaxed. “What does he have you working on?”

Anastasia’s eyes drifted to Cesare, waiting for his nod before talking about the training. “Nothing new. We’ve been working on smoothing out what I already know.”

Pulling away, Cesare stopped as Kali’s arm tightened possessively. “I have training with Blaez. He wanted to go over it one more time.”

Kali blinked slowly up at him. “What?” She shook her head as she gave him a long look. “I heard you wrong. I thought you said you were training Blaez.”

Sighing, he faced amazed eyes. “I am.”

“The Blaez that gutted you? The werewolf that hounded and degraded you every chance he got? The one trying to get into my daughter’s panties? The dog that broke up with her when she was attacked? Because if it’s that Blaez, I think you need to see a doctor for head trauma,” Kali said, voice raising with every word.

Figuring he wouldn't be ditching the three anytime soon, he pulled Kali along as he made for the Ludus Noctis. “Yep, same guy.” Anger flared in Kali’s eyes at the flippant words. “He asked for help. I can’t say I wanted to do it, but the tactical advantages were too good to pass up.”

Kali studied his face, body molding to his side as the girls watched. Finally, the woman turned to her daughter. “Where do you stand on this idiocy?”

Anastasia looked over at the two of them. “Blaez means nothing, alive or dead, it's all the same to me. I can’t say I like to see him close to Cesare after what happened, but Cesare's his own man. I have to respect that.”

Kali shook her head at Cesare. “You're insane, hot, and fuckable as hell, but crazy as a shit house rat. Well, let’s see this training you’re risking your life for.”

Cesare grinned down at the woman. “What makes you think I’ll let you see his training?”

Kali’s smile turned up at the edges, a warm wash of heated sex radiating off her, hand caressing his ass suggestively. “I can make it worth your while, Cesare.”

Laughing, he pulled her closer, reveling in her hard nipples digging into his chest. They knew Cesare would never take her up on the offer, but that didn't change the game. “Promises, promises, I don’t have a problem with you watching.”

Kali’s hand pushed into Cesare’s back pocket, cupping his ass while they walked. It was more than desire, it was possession. Harab Serapel marked their lovers, resources, slaves, and food by the intimacy of their touch. By holding his ass, she told the world Cesare belonged to her, his body was hers to touch, play with, or feed on as she desired. It wasn't any different than a cat marking its human or a teenage boy groping his girlfriend around his buddies.

The guards at the Ludus Noctis started at seeing the mass of people coming down the hallway. Not just the Furies, but Lady Kali and the harem. Sliding aside with their backs to the wall, terror blanketed their faces. Heads bowed, faces to the ground, they bent in deep bows until they'd passed.

The gladiators stopped as the group entered the courtyard, weapons dropping to the ground. A still silence wrapped bony claws around throats, strangling sound in its womb. They’d gotten used to Cesare, and the death dealing prodigies of the school didn't throw them like they used too. But Kali was a thing of nightmares, ultimate power wedded to savage satisfaction, a walking apocalypse of burning death.

The rumors about her and Cesare were night whispers. Knowing about her was nothing next to brushing against her debased presence, the strain of soul as it whined in protest at being near her. Terror ran before her, a bitch heralding her coming, the strings of the real screeching in protest at the weight of her reality. To see an abomination older than many gods, hoary with genocide, draped in the eternal slaughter of thousands of wars, waltz with its hand groping a student’s ass, pushed the bounds of student’s minds. Her destructive aura blasted the area, leaving no doubt who reigned supreme in this pond of nobodies. Ducking their heads, the gladiators shuffled back in soul’s deep terror.

Even as contained as much as she could, the students felt her immense power brushing along the edges of their souls with casual brutality. The feel of age that flowed from her dwarfed everything around her into insignificance. It wasn’t only her power that made her different, it was the history she carried. No matter her simple clothes or laughing manner, she was a thing of legend and myth walking the world of mortals.

Cesare watched her aura move over the gladiators. It was different from the isolation he’d known, but it was no less a curse. She could never be just another person in the crowd. Kali was a thing of monstrous power and everyone that came into her sphere knew it, only users wanted to be around her.

His arm pulled her tight to him in a futile effort to protect her from a world as scared of her as it was jealous of her power. Kali looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a raw need, face softening at the understanding she found.

“I’m sorry.” Cesare’s whispered words were barely a breath of air.

Kali shrugged, painfully trying to downplay something that had savaged every relationship she'd ever had. “It's the price of power.” Her words drew Anastasia’s attention. “The more you have, the more the they hunger for your flesh. They hate you as they greedily devour every scrap they can cut from your hide. That you have power and money while they struggle, that you live in a world of endless possibility while they're chained to their mistakes, it drives them mad. As much as they want me, they hate, their love feeds off their fear. I'm a horror to them.”

“Not to me,” Cesare said, words resounding with the simple truth.

“No, not you,” Kali said softly before meeting her daughter’s eyes. “You want my power, crave to be a goddess to things that will never shelter you. No man comes to my bed without a need, my body, power, or money, everyone wants a piece of me. They don’t see me as anything more than a way to feed their need. A whore to be used and cast aside. I fuck who I want, whenever I want. If I'm going to be a whore, I might as well enjoy it. When you reach the heights were only a handful stand, you’ll find you have no one. No friends, no loves, nothing at all. You’re alone, and the world will never let you forget it.”

Anastasia flinched under the uncompromising words. “I thought you and dad …”

Sighing, Kali pushed into Cesare’s side. “You see what you want to see, like everyone else. You see the money, power, and prestige, but miss the poisoned eyes and venomous tongues. The petty power plays and blatant manipulations are unseen, hidden by your hunger. Everyone in my life wants something from me, do you think any of them would be with me if I wasn’t Lady Kali? My harem, my daughters, my boyfriends, my so-called friends, they want me for what I can do for them. Except one.”

Anastasia looked away with troubled eyes. It was hard when a dream you'd suckled at your breast was malformed by truth. Anastasia had seen the difference in the people that orbited her mother, she’d seen her own harems slavish devotion. The harem was nothing like having friends, corruptingly parasitic, it was a tide of foulness that poisoned everything it touched. It wouldn’t stop her, not Anastasia, but maybe it would make her realize the price she’d pay for her dream.

They reached the soft grass of his territory, the cushion a welcome change from the hard-packed dirt the gladiators worked on. Kali paused just inside, taking in the area with an appreciative eye. The still new looking dummies got an assessing look, eyes noting the joints crafted into the works of art. Even after weeks of being pounded on by students, they were pristine, without a mark marring their living beauty.

As impressive as the wooden things were, Kali’s eyes jumped to the gorgeous fighting arena standing in its pride of place. Gray as the morality of a jaded cop, wolves flowed across it in scenes of play and hunting. Crafted out of roots, woven together without end or beginning. It was a soul catching sight, pulling at the wildness of spirit and its need for the land.

“I’ve known other Imperatrix Terra’s, but none of them had her talent,” Kali whispered.

It only took a second before Cesare realized there'd be no training today. The Cherries nervously shuffled in place, eyes shifting away from the group. Awed by Kali's presence, they’d only get hurt in the arena. With a curt gesture, he canceled practice, the half haphazard line that had formed disintegrating with relief.

“Cesare?” Turning, Cesare bit off a quiet curse as he took in the wave of people making their way to him. Blaez was keeping ahead of the group by the narrowest of margins. Close behind him came his parents, barely holding themselves back so their son could lead the way.

Troy and Kelly fit each other like bookends, dressed down in clothes that cost more than a homeless kid ate in a week. Sustainably harvested cotton slacks, loose t-shirts of earthy greens and clean shoes, they looked to have gotten lost on the way to the country club. The two walked with the easy grace of the powerful. Fighters, lawyers, rich, and connected, they'd conquered life and knew their worth.

Jerold kept pace to the side, but it was a Jerold Cesare had never seen before. He’d faced the man infuriated, coldly murderous, and deadly dangerous, but he’d never seen the man as the Lanista of the Ludus Noctis. Tight black leathers scuffed and sweat stained from years of training hugged muscled legs. A leather vest molded to his toned body, leaving milk white almost pearlescent skin bare to the sun.

Miss Raven walked on the other side of Blaez’s parents. There was a mesmerizing rolling gait to her as wide hips moved with each step, a subtle jiggle to her body she couldn’t hide no matter how flowing her clothes. It was something Cesare knew she hated, being overweight disgusted her, but to him it was beautiful. He loved to watch her swaying walk, loved the way her body flowed with her steps. Lush and full, she was soft and welcoming without the hard bodies of the others. It was the beauty of the earth mother, the beauty of a mature woman.

“Sorry Cesare, my parents wanted to see for themselves what we’re doing,” Blaez said, face twitching between nervousness and anger.