Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
“Pir-an-ha. Pir-an-ha.” The crowd’s chants dove into my bones, oscillating through my body, violently thumping my heart and lungs. The sharp smell of my fear, dirt, blood, and sweat clung to the tunnel where I stood, the light beyond the gate cutting through the bars.
“Blood-ing! Blood-ing!” Piercing calls exploded around for my life or for me to end my opponent’s. It didn’t seem to matter.
My stomach pirouetted with nausea, my teeth chattering against each other. The terror hadn’t ebbed any. It shook me deeper to the core. I understood what was out there, what would happen, and how tiny the possibility was I would step away this time with my life.
“You ready?” Zander’s hand reached for the gate, his brown eyes finding mine through the dark shadows.
“No.” I rolled my jaw. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Zander’s hand dropped away from the handle for a moment, touching my arm lightly, moving close to me.
“I can’t tell you everything will be all right,” he said quietly, turning my head to his and forcing me to concentrate on his words, drowning out the cries from the stands. “You are fast and clever. Use everything you can to your advantage. And fight like as though your life depends on it.”
“It does,” I replied, feeling my chest falter at his proximity, his beautiful face blurring out everything around me.
“It does,” he repeated. His features were serious, but his deep brown eyes were soft on mine.
“Dirty. Cruel. Unforgiving. Do whatever it takes. You cannot die. You don’t understand.
” My brows wrinkled at his last statement.
He swallowed, his fingers pressing firmer into my jaw.
“The fact that you are human and a woman means nothing here. Use it. Be smarter, quicker. Just win.”
“You sound the same as my training instructor.” A sentimental smile hinted on my lips while grief cracked through my heart.
Zander stared down at me, his intensity reserved and quiet, but I could feel so much from his eyes. He leaned in, his mouth inching closer to mine. “What is it about you? I can’t fight it. I am drawn to you—”
“Come on!” A bang hit the gate, jolting us away from each other, my attention snapping to the figure on the other side.
Damn it.
“Well, well . . . Now I see why you were so protective over the human, Z.” A malicious smile curved up on Boyd’s face as he leaned into the gate, his gaze darting between us. “Breaking in this one for yourself?”
Zander didn’t answer as he stepped toward the door, pulling out his keys.
“Thought we shared around here.” Boyd salaciously licked his lips. “Though I guess it’s pointless now.” Boyd’s eyebrows wiggled. “She won’t be making it out of this one alive.”
Zander unlatched the lock, and Boyd tugged the bars open.
“Come on. The people demand your presence for the fish fry.”
“She’s still fighting the human prisoner, right? The one picked from the lottery?” Zander’s hand grasped my wrist as I stepped forward.
“Oh, did they not tell you?” Boyd parted his mouth in false surprise, reaching for my other arm. “The order has changed. She’s proved she can fight at a higher difficulty. She did win her fight last time.”
“What?” Zander’s fingers gripped harder around my bones. “When did this happen?”
“Just a little bit ago.” Boyd smirked, tugging me from Zander’s grip. “Did you miss that discussion? Oh, right, you were busy getting her.” He shrugged. “So eager to volunteer to get your filly here.”
Boyd slammed the gate back on Zander’s face, gloating.
“Who is she fighting?” Zander’s head flicked up in irritation, his foot stamping at the ground.
“Why ruin the surprise?”
Boyd walked me several steps, leaving me in the middle of the arena before heading over to another gate. A shadowed figure stood behind it—the person who would either kill me or die tonight.
The mob cheered louder at seeing me enter the arena.
Use their energy. Focus, Brex. Survive.
Boyd wrenched open the other gate, letting out my adversary.
Fear crashed down on me, dulling the crazed cheers, stomping feet, and excitement from the crowd jumping and moving in my peripheral as the fae strutted out.
No. Nononono.
Oxygen evaporated from my lungs, acid rushing into my throat.
My opponent strode in with arms wide open, pumping up the crowd; his arrogant sneer tugged up his lip.
“Bull! Bull! Bull!” The crowd switched allegiance in a blink, their fickle devotion going with the strongest player. Ruthless and cold.
My head whipped back to the tunnel. Horror filled Zander’s eyes, his head shaking in denial.
“No.” He pushed to open the door.
“Uh-uh.” Boyd wiggled his finger at him. “You know the rules. Once they are in the ring, we can’t intercede.”
A bray huffed from Zander, and for a moment, I thought he was going to come through the gate and rush Boyd, but he stepped back, his sorrow-filled gaze telling me he could not help me.
Snapping back to Rodriguez, I licked my lips, trying to calm my frantic heartbeat.
Fear got you killed.
The bell declared the fight was on. I could feel the bloodthirsty fans salivating for violence and my death.
“Bull! Bull! Kill! Kill!”
Rodriguez smirked, strolling over to me with bored arrogance.
“Wow, not really fair, is it?” He winked, pausing about five feet from me.
“Guess it will be an early night for me. Shower and back in my cell in what . . . twenty minutes?” He moved in closer, lowering himself to attack, his nose flaring, his feet scraping at the ground.
Countering his moves, I peered around me, trying to find items I could use as weapons. They had changed the setup since my last fight, taking away some, adding others.
“Brexley Kovacs.” Rodriguez purred my name, his tone twisted with disgust and desire.
“I won’t lie; I’m really gonna enjoy goring you, spilling your guts on the ground.
” His nostrils puffed with excitement. “Just think, this whole time, the HDF princess has been under our nose. General Markos’s pet bitch.
A rich, entitled, spoiled human girl. You will be glad I killed you tonight.
Consider it kindness, as the inmates will pick at you until you’re a bag of bones. ”
“You fae keep telling me that.” I offset his progression, my boots sliding over the dirt. “But yet, here I am.”
“Not for long.” He lurched for me, setting off the crowd, his head tilting as the cheers descended on him, a smile curling his lips. A showman. He thrived on the attention. Lived for the spectacle.
Use it, Brex. Use his ego against him.
The problem was how to do that. He was an excellent fighter, brutal even, feeding off the crowd’s energy.
“You are like a bright red cape dangling in front of me.” He padded the ground, ready to come for me. “And soon you will cover the ground in the same color.” He stepped closer. “Your people killed my sister. It’s only fair I kill you.”
I didn’t respond, but my eyes darted to his, making his evil smirk grow wider.
“Yeah, you have a lot of enemies here now, human. It’s why I asked to fight you tonight. My sister was just a calf, but they had no problem kidnapping her, experimenting on her, and then taking her life.” He spat at the ground.
Experimenting? What the hell was he talking about?
“And I will have no problem doing the same to you.”
The information barely sank in before he leaped forward, his bulk barreling into mine, the back of my head smacking the ground with a painful blow. He grappled for my arms, trying to pin me beneath him.
Forcefully I bucked my hips up, tipping him forward, getting him off-center as my teeth bit down on his arm, loosening his grip on my wrist. Shoving my palm into his face with all my might, he fell off me, his face hitting the dirt.
I rolled out from under him, climbing to my feet.
He twisted back for me, his fingers digging into the back of my leg.
I kicked out, my foot cracking across his cheek, flinging him back into the ground with a grunt.
After I stomped my boot into his side, his hand clamped around my ankle, twisting and pulling my leg.
My knee popped as I turned, my face hitting the ground as I dropped, leaving my back exposed and vulnerable.
Get up! I screamed at myself, hearing him get back to his feet. Rushing forward, he pounced on my back, his fingers curled around my neck, crushing down on my throat.
A gasp choked out of my mouth as my lungs searched for air, his hand clamping down harder. Ringing filled my ears as my vision blurred, my lungs burning for fuel.
He seethed in my ear, but my mind couldn’t pick up on words, trying too hard to breathe, panic swarming me like a cloud of flies.
A haze built around me as my gaze landed on the one clear thing before me, as if he were in high definition, while everything else was smeared in fog. Warwick stood up from his seat, his body rigid. His azure eyes sliced through the fuzz, zeroing in on me.
Fuck, he was viciously sexy. Terrifying. Cruel.
And pissed.
Rage and abhorrence heaved up his shoulders, all directed at me. His lips curled, hands rolling into fists, as if the way I was dying wasn’t inhumane enough.
Something about his reaction vibrated through me, sparking a fierce fury. He was probably mad he wasn’t getting to kill me himself. I was sure he’d love to be the one who exterminated the well-known ward of General Markos.
It was a flicker of time. The lack of oxygen caused a glitch in my brain. Even though I laid on the ground, I felt myself right next to him. His rich smell mixed with sweat and grime, the heat pulsing off his skin.
“Fuck you,” I sneered in his ear. Then in a blink, I was back.
He jolted, his head glancing over his shoulder, then shot back to me in the arena.
His nose flared, his head slanting to the side, his glare narrowing.
“Fuck you back,” his voice scraped the back of my neck, the feel of his lips brushing my ear. “Now fight.”
What the hell?