Orna shakes her head, stalking away, but several of the other imperiums are nodding, several more shooting me dark looks.
“Take it up with your leader.” I give her a wide, toothy smile.
“Enough.” Lucius jerks his head toward the mat.
I lift my practice sword and he attacks.
“You’re distracted,” he says moments later, when I almost trip on my own feet.
I don’t bother arguing. It’s already mid-Lunius, and the ultimus conquestus is just two and a half weeks away in early Quintilis. In that time, I somehow need to figure out how to get close enough to the emperor—a man I’ve only ever seen surrounded by guards—to kill him. Not to mention, the ludus is home to a cold-blooded murderer.
“Maybe she needs to train with someone who won’t go easy on her,” Orna taunts from the sidelines.
Lucius blocks my punch, aiming a frown over my shoulder. I don’t need to glance behind me to know Orna is giving him a wide grin.
“What’s the matter, Arvelle?” she calls “Scared?”
I ignore her some more, but I catch Deitra giving me a considering look. The vampire is the shortest of the imperiums, with a curvy, hourglass figure. She reaches up to tighten her ponytail, pushing bright red strands from her sweaty face. The smirk she sends Orna makes it clear they’re friends.
“Lucius,” someone calls, and he steps back. I lean over, planting my hands on my knees as I catch my breath.
Someone steps onto the mat and I don’t need to lift my head to know it’s Orna.
“I don’t want to fight you,” I mutter, still sucking in several deep breaths.
“Aren’t you here to train? How are you going to get any better if you don’t fight people who actually want to hurt you?” Orna pushes her long dark braid over her shoulder. “Spar with me, Arvelle. One of the imperius tenets is courage, you know. How do you expect anyone to respect you when you’re such a coward?”
Orna is a vampire, and she’s not wearing suppression cuffs, which means my strength is a drop in a bucket compared to her own. She’s stronger, faster, and meaner. But I’m wily.
I’m not sure why Orna hates me so much more than the others. Most of the imperius are disapproving, making their dislike clear. But Orna has been wanting this moment since the day we met.
Tonotfight her would make me look like a coward.
“Don’t kill her, Orna,” Neris warns from the sidelines.
“I won’t.” Orna picks up a practice sword, swinging it idly in her hand. “I’m just going to teach her a lesson.”
I lift my own sword, forcing myself to loosen my grip on the wooden hilt.
Orna barrels at me, shockingly fast.
I spin to the side, but she’s already turning, too, striking out with a fist. I duck, but she hits my shoulder. A flash of pain, and my sword arm goes numb. I switch hands, using the sword like a club in an attempt to get some space.
Orna easily dodges, smashing her own sword into my ribs. It’s a glancing blow, or my ribs would have shattered.
I stagger, and she’s on me—gripping my shoulders, pinning me in place. With no other choice, I slam my forehead into her nose.
It’s a stupid, desperate move.
And I pay for it.
White-hot stars flash across my vision. Orna yelps, releasing me. But vampires recover faster than humans. She launches herself at me, fangs bared.
“Don’t you dare!” Lucius roars.
Orna’s hands clamp down on my shoulders once more, her head arched back, too far for me to hit. I kick out, but she’s monstrously strong.
Older than I’d imagined. At least four hundred.
