Chapter 9
A s soon as her form vanished, both Wylen and Tris sucked in a deep breath. Tris shook his whole body while Wylen stared at the space where the woman once stood. “Are you guys okay?” I asked, kind of afraid to touch either of them.
“What was that?” Tris asked Wylen.
He shook his head. “I am not completely sure.”
Tris and I shared a look, and in that instant, I knew we needed to keep moving.
“Come on. We should get to Razi’s.” While I had no idea what we would be facing when we found the man who went by one name, my instincts told me that we would be safer with him than standing in the streets with that woman.
I led the way as my two companions shook off whatever magic they’d encountered. Given the woman’s beauty, I wasn’t totally convinced that it was only magic…more like a little feminine energy mixed with a whole slew of enchantments.
It didn’t take us long to reach the warehouse at the dead-end, and I was surprised to see a light come on above one of the doors near the side of the building. “Do you think that’s it?” I asked Tris.
“Yes,” Wylen answered instead, causing Tris to groan under his breath. The fae sniffed the air like a dog, creasing his brows when he caught the scent of something he didn’t like. “This is definitely the place of trolls.”
Shooting a quick glance at Tris, I silently begged him to let the stinky troll comment roll off his skin.
But my friend wasn’t paying any attention to me or Wylen.
Instead, he was looking at the giant man standing next to the metal door, with his arms crossed and a blank stare focused on us. “That guy looks familiar,” Tris mused.
“He looks like a monster,” I replied.
“Yes! He is. Oh my god, that’s The Monster of Mayhem!” Tris grabbed my arm and bounced up and down like a schoolgirl meeting her favorite boy band. “That guy is a wrestling legend!”
I couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. Boys and their heroes. “You mean the fake wrestling that the Capitol shows every Saturday night?”
Tris rolled his eyes. “It’s not fake, Sosie. The Monster is real.”
“The Monster is an ogre,” Wylen said calmly as though those were normal words to hear every day.
“Really?” Tris asked, an awe of admiration in his tone.
“You can’t smell it?” Wylen asked. When we both shook our heads, he let out a breath like we were wasting his time by being in his presence.
“Ogres smell like dirt. Fresh dirt from the holes they live in during the day. Your ogre over there? He just crawled out of his den, and if I were to guess,” he made a show of sniffing the air again, “he lives somewhere near a cemetery. I can smell the decay on him.”
“Gross,” I whispered.
Tris shook his head. “I don’t care. That guy is awesome!” He started to walk toward the door, but Wylen grabbed his shoulder. When Tris turned with a glare, I almost jumped between them. Thankfully, Wylen held up his hands and gave a small smile.
“Let me go first. Please.”
Maybe it was the please. Or maybe it was the way I weaved my fingers into Tris’s that stopped him from arguing. Instead, he gave my hand a small squeeze and used the other to gesture for Wylen to go ahead of him. As the fae took the lead, Tris bent over and said, “He’s an arrogant asshole.”
“Yep,” I said with a smile, and I noticed Wylen’s shoulders tense.
We followed behind the fae as we stepped closer to the giant beast guarding the door.
While Wylen had some height, this Monster person/ogre must have stood nearly two feet taller.
His torso was wider than I was high, and the ridiculously large muscles on his arms were larger than my head.
I swallowed a ball of dread in my throat, kind of worried for Wylen’s safety.
The Hound stood tall and looked the man in the eyes. “Friend, I am here with?—”
“No.” The deep throaty sound of The Monster’s voice was soothing and terrifying at the same time. He didn’t move, but he didn’t have to.
“No?” Wylen asked, offended. By the way he said it, I had no doubt Wylen wasn’t used to people telling him no. And I wondered, not for the first time, if he was fae royalty.
“You are not welcome here.”
Wylen snapped his head around to look at me and Tris. His jaw opened with the shock of being denied, while the smirk on Tris’s face grew. Seeing Wylen raise his brows, I understood the unspoken question.
Letting go of Tris’s hand, I stepped forward. Time to see if everyone was right about my persuasive skills.
I barely made it to Wylen’s side when the giant man held out his hand and said, “Stop. Not you.”
“Not me?”
He slowly shook his head from side to side and then looked over us at Tris. With a jerk of his chin, he beckoned Tris forward. Smiling like a smitten teen, Tris pushed passed both of us to stand directly in front of The Monster.
“Welcome, kin,” the man said in his deep timber. “Are you here for the fights? ”
“Yes…yeah,” Tris stuttered. Then he threw back his shoulders and stood tall. “Yes, I am here to see the fights.”
A hint of a smile pulled at the side of The Monster’s lips. He stepped back away from the door and turned to reach for the large metal handle that looked more like a refrigerator pull than a doorknob.
“Can my friends come inside, too?” Tris asked, voice a little higher than usual, which meant that he was nervous.
The ogre studied us for a few moments. “Are they guests of yours?”
I felt Wylen stiffen beside me, confirming that this was a loaded question. Tris must have thought the same since he turned around to look at both of us. He shrugged and focused on Wylen. The fae gave him a very faint nod as I tried to give a reassuring smile.
Tris focused on The Monster again and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yes, Mr. Monster. They are my guests.”
The ogre grinned at Tris, either proud of his answer or grateful for the recognition. He was missing several teeth along the sides of his smile, and I swore I saw something dark moving in the back of his mouth. He quickly closed his lips and opened the door.
Without another word, Tris led us inside.
There was a makeshift foyer of sorts created with plywood painted black and dark curtains lining the walls on both sides.
We had to walk single file for several steps before Tris reached the end of the tunnel-like entrance and pushed open another metal swinging door.
The first thing I noticed was the sound. Cheers and shouts echoed through the large open space, making me wonder how we hadn’t heard it outside.
And then I noticed the smell. We were immediately assaulted with the stench of sweaty bodies, rotten food, and blood. That coppery metallic scent was the worst, and my stomach churned. Covering my nose and mouth with my hand, I tried not to gag. “Gods, it reeks in here. ”
Tris swallowed hard as he gently pressed his hand into my lower back. His eyes glistened with excitement. “Reminds me of the locker rooms.”
Wylen cleared his throat, trying to cover a gag if I were to guess. “Savages,” he muttered.
Shaking his head, Tris started to guide us forward.
When we entered the warehouse, there seemed to be several sections to the space, even though there were no additional walls.
But there were pens. Or rings. Whatever you call the places where people were fighting.
To our right was a raised boxing ring with two female fighters going at it.
The area was surrounded by fanatics cheering them on and waving money around in their hands.
We watched as the two women pounded on each other.
Neither were wearing gloves or head protection or clothes, really. Just good old sports bras and shorts.
Their fists darted out just as quickly as their kicks, and I stood in awe watching their moves. “Wow,” I breathed, and Tris chuckled.
“They’re good,” he said. “They’re really good.”
We both shouted with the crowd when the girl with the long, dark hair landed a foot in the face of her blond opponent.
The cracking sound was one thing, but the blood that flew out of the side of her mouth as she fell was what really got the crowd going.
I covered my mouth in shock as I watched everyone who’d bet on the winner cheer and chant things I couldn’t understand.
She held up her arms and celebrated, teasing the crowd and asking for more cheers.
They started shouting the words, “Finish it,” and I suddenly got a sinking feeling.
Tris and I shared a look as Wylen stood stoically beside us. He hadn’t reacted one way or the other. “What do you think they mean?” I whispered to Tris. His eyes were fixated on the ring, and I noticed the hint of fear in them.
“Um…I think they want her to kill her opponent.”
On my tiptoes, I could barely see the downed woman.
It looked like she was still moving, lying on her side and spitting blood from her mouth.
She seemed dazed and her eyes hazy as she tried to focus on someone just outside of the ring shouting for her to get up.
I glanced at Tris and Wylen, both of whom were enthralled with the scene in front of us.
The woman still standing bounced on her feet a few times, her bloody smile growing malevolent as a sign of what was about to come.
“Oh no,” I breathed, yet I couldn’t turn away.
She ran in a small circle around the ring, pumping up the crowd.
And when she passed her opponent on the ground the second time, she lifted her foot… and stomped on the woman’s face.
I turned my head and buried my nose in Tris’s chest. I didn’t want to see this. I’d heard the cracking of bones over and over as she claimed her victory. The crowd got louder with each stomp, and that lump in my throat grew larger as I tried not to puke.
Wylen sighed, shaking his head in disgust. Or maybe boredom. I didn’t know. Tris wrapped his arms across my back and held me close, but I could hear how fast his heart was beating, and I wondered if it was due to repulsion or excitement.
About twenty feet behind Tris, in another open area of the warehouse, there was a larger fighting ring set up.
Twice the size of the one currently being used to kill a woman, this new one was surrounded by a whole pile of fans just as excited and just as anxious to throw their money on their winner of choice.
I leaned around Tris some more to see. It appeared that two men were fighting in this match, both of them as big as Tris and equally matched in aggression and skill.
But where the two females had been quick to throw punches and kicks, these men did more circling and stalking.
When the one with the dark hair and wearing red shorts finally rushed in for an attack, the other easily dodged to the side, almost too quick to follow.
He immediately circled around and reached for the man, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward.
A quick head butt followed just a moment before this man grabbed Red Shorts, lifted him in the air, and threw him across the ring .
“Uh, Tris,” I said, slapping my hands on his chest in an attempt to get him to focus. “Tris! Watch out!”
The fighter flew through the air, twisting and turning like a cat trying to get its feet down first. I didn’t know how it was possible, but he was soaring right at us, way too far from the ring.
Tris turned at the same time Wylen grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to the ground.
I heard the smack of bodies as Tris took the brunt of the impact, and Red Shorts bounced off Tris and rolled several times on the warehouse floor.
There were cracks and screams as the man slid, and I barely had a chance to see what was happening since Wylen still held me tight.
But when I did manage to sneak a peek out from under Wylen’s arm…it was just in time to see a giant tiger rip from the fighter’s body.