Page 77 of Hunters and Prey

“So she listened to them?”

“For a time. My grandfather says the queen planned to overrule their advice and do as she pleased. But since the overwhelming vote of the board was against her motion, tradition urged her to wait two weeks before acting. Then the catastrophe happened. By the time any of our people realized something was amiss on the surface, it was far too late to help. Almost everyone had died, and the ship was at the bottom of the sea.”

“Christ.Your council doesn’t like my kind, do they?”

“They care for no one but their fellow nobles, and even then, only the ones who are beneficial to them,” she whispered. “I probably shouldn’t say such things, but that’s how it’s always been.”

They came upon the ruins of a famous pirate ship next. Again, a boyish smile broke out over Matteo’s face, and she listened to his story.

Every single time they reached a new piece in the exhibit, his knowledge proved as true as the label beside it.

“You’re a history lover, aren’t you?”

Rosy warmth spread to his face as he dropped his arm from her waist. She missed the touch at once, craving his return. “I suppose so. Sorry. I didn’t mean to preach history at you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. She didn’t miss the nervous chuckle, the way his eyes drifted from the display. “Maritime history is a hobby of mine, you could say. When it’s your career, you can’t help but pick up an abundance of useless information about it.”

“It’s not useless. If it brings you joy to learn it, it has value.”

He placed both hands in his pockets andgazed at the enormous anchor behind the magical barrier. “I suppose you’re right.”

Fleeting self-doubt flit across her senses and choked the confidence that always hung around Matteo. The sinister impression intensified when she touched his arm, confirming it came from the gorgeous man beside her and wasn’t a projection from the crowd.

Someone had shamed him for his love of history in the past, and if she closed her eyes long enough to focus on the scar that remained, the echo of a woman emerged. Whoever that woman was, El loathed her.

“This is our final stop for the evening,” Elpis murmured, squeezing Matteo’s arm as they crested the hill and Cyrene’s grand military coliseum came into view. There were few things in Atlantis prettier than the stone and marble construct awaiting them below. “As a commander, I receive free admission to the general’s box, and so does anyone with me. You get to be my date for the night.”

“Haven’t I already been your date for the night?” he teased.

That set off a cascading reaction of feelings beginning with elation and ending with warmth in her girly bits. They’d sampled snacks from different vendors along the way, sharing everything from baked shrimp cakes to glasses of pomegranate wine—enjoying every step of the way to their final destination. Despite that, they were both still starved, stomachs rumbling in anticipation since the coliseum offered a seven-course meal to box holders.

A long line of commoners wound down the lane, parallel to a second queue with well-dressed mers in fancy scales and dresses. High mers never wore informal clothing if they could help it and used every event as an opportunity to display their wealth. Elpis took Matteo to the shorter line designated for nobles and Myrmidon officers. Anyone else risked standing in line for hours before entering.

“Is this seriously a coliseum? Lion-fighting, gladiatorial battles, and all that?”

“No lion-fighting, though captive doomlantern jellies were once brought here for entertainment before the days of Queen Ianthe. She outlawed the practice of slaying animals in the arena. Nowadays, it’s professional gladiators who train their entire lives for this. Most are of the warrior class. Some are Myrmidons who fight during their off-duty time. Some are retired from service. Others chose to never enter the army,” she explained.

“You know, I thought gladiatorial combat was a Roman thing, not an Ancient Greek thing. Could have sworn your old ancestors found the practice barbaric.”

Her eyes glittered with unconcealed mirth. “History bug. Some of our people have Roman ancestry. Treat me right, and maybe I’ll share a book or two with you.”

“I can’t read Ancient Greek.”

“You can read Latin.”

He blinked. “How did you know that?”

Her impish smile dimpled both of her cheeks. “My secret.”

It didn’t take long to reach the gates, or to bypass the line and skip to the front. Mers standing by at the admissions gate stared at Matteo with undisguised curiosity.Everywhere they traveled, he stood out as different, and it wasn’t only his brown skin that drew attention to him. Enough mer from the kingdom of Pacifica had immigrated to the Atlantic Ocean over the centuries to make his rich, golden tan nothing unusual. It was his stance, the way he carried himself, those slacks hugging his perfect ass just right instead of leggings or a pleated Grecian fustanella. The traditional kilts had come back into style again recently, and they were a glorious thing to behold among some mers of the warrior class.

Upon flashing her gold starfish pins, an attendant permitted them entry and gestured Elpis toward the stairs leading to the private boxes on the upper level. She guided Matteo there and entered.

The room was perfect for their needs, large enough to seat at least thirty spectators, but cozy and filled with all the delights afforded to the noble class. They sipped more wine and dined on boiled crab appetizers until the doors closed and water began flooding the arena down below, rising until it was well over the first rows in the public stands. Matteo shifted in his seat and leaned forward to peer down below, consternation knitting his brows.

“You won’t drown, Matt. Box seats are airtight,” she assured him. “Designed for noble ladies who want to stay fashionably dry. You don’t spend two hours at the mercy of your stylist to get your hair soaked.”

“Ah.”

Less than an hour later, an official announced the first match before the stadium even filled. It took a while to get everyone in a chair, and the best battles of the night usually happened toward the end. El was seriously looking forward to the night’s main event, a championship grudge match between Artemis and Hydna. Whenever the two former infantry commanders entered the arena, they captivated the audience with their grace, power, and limitless skill.She’d looked up to those women her entire life, the role models who inspired her at an early age to forsake duties as a temple priestess and pursue an active military career.

---