Page 27 of Arcane Entanglement
His breath caught when they emerged on a mezzanine overlooking a giant space that could easily accommodate two ballrooms.
A labyrinth of chambers, galleries, and passages opened off both levels, offering glimpses into the world of the information guild. He spotted a dining hall, a library, and numerous offices with walls lined with cabinets and nebulous figures crouched over tables strewn with paperwork even at this late hour, their faces etched with eldritch shadows by the light of oil lanterns.
Evander perused the fat candles crowding the chandeliers dotting the ceiling and wall lights gracing the exposed limestone, before focusing on the expansive floor below.
Most of it was taken up by chairs and tables where guild members could sit and talk, as well as some card and billiard tables where they could try their hand at a game of chance and skill. Fireplaces and pits were arranged around the vast chamber, their flames keeping away the chill while the smoke they produced filtered through vents in the ceiling.
His gaze landed on an arena at the far end, where the noise was coming from. It resembled a Roman colosseum, with giant stone pillars demarcating the corners of the sunken floor. A crowd was gathered around it.
Evander frowned. “Is this a fight club?”
“No,” Ginny said. “It’s more a training ground for thralls.”
Evander was aware of dozens of piercing stares as he and Ginny descended the steps leading to the lower floor.
They made their way towards the source of tonight’s attraction and stopped on the edge of the mass of men and women cheering for the two giants fighting in the middle of the colosseum.
“That must be Stonewall,” Ginny murmured.
Evander’s stomach tightened on a flutter of awareness.
Chapter13
At six foot four,the Brute who had drawn his attention was slightly shorter than his opponent, with broad shoulders and a muscular build toned to perfection. His cropped hair and beard were dark and his ebony eyes burned with an animal-like intensity in a chiselled face currently set in a grim expression of determination. Blue ink covered his chest, back, and arms in fascinating swirls, the patterns tracing his sun-kissed skin reminiscent of the motifs belonging to the indigenous tribes inhabiting remote islands in the Pacific.
Evander swallowed. The Brute was mesmerising.
Judging from the delicious tension filtering through his groin, his body very much liked the raw masculinity on display.
“What makes you think that’s Stonewall and not the other man?”
Ginny gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious?” She indicated the tattooed Brute like Evander was an idiot. “Everyone’s eyes are on him. And it’s plain to see why. His presence is simply?—”
“—magnetic,” Evander mumbled.
Ginny stared at him. She was distracted by the noise swelling around them.
The fight was nearing its inevitable end.
Viggo Stonewall ended it in three blisteringly quick moves, his gloved fists striking his opponent with enough force to make the air tremble. The other Brute fell on his back, the impact sending a tremor through the ground.
The crowd went mad.
“Viggo! Viggo! Viggo!” they chanted, their claps echoing their shouts.
Instead of strutting around the ring, the Brute squatted and said something to the stunned man on the floor. The latter nodded weakly before taking his hand, a smile dawning on his bloodied face.
The Brute pulled the defeated man to his feet and tugged him in a quick bear hug. They climbed out of the colosseum and disappeared towards the back of the guild.
“And what have we here?” someone said behind Evander and Ginny.
They turned.
A lean, wiry man with red hair, sea-green eyes, and a cocky grin that spelled trouble was watching them curiously over his crossed arms where he sat straddling the back of a chair.
“Mr. Callaghan,” Ginny greeted politely.
The man’s grin widened. “You’re hurting my feelings, Lady Hartley.”
