Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Hours.
It felt like hours I’d been running in the dark sewers.
The only illumination came from streetlights piercing through the drains above and casting faint beams of silver over the rushing sewage.
I was following the scent of Dupont and Damien’s thugs in the tunnel. At last, I reached a drain where the trail led upward and out of the tunnels.
Climbing a ladder with one hand was difficult. Shoving the grate to the side was impossible without using both, and I fought to stay conscious as white-hot pain pierced down my arm.
As I emerged, the old slaughterhouse stood in the distance, light pouring out of the arched windows. The boards had been taken down, the doors were open, the place was ready for business again.
I clenched Max’s relics in my good hand and tried to keep my head high as I entered. I recognized the doormen. They’d been here the other day when I came with Elli.
“Miss Nina? Are you alright?” one of them asked, glancing at my hand. “You need a healer?”
“Have they started yet?” I asked, gravel in my throat.
The doormen glanced at his colleague, then nodded. “There’s technically a cover charge, but…” He opened the door, looking past me. “Go on. Elli and them are already in the stands.”
“Thanks.” I sighed, passing them to enter a full house.
The duel was well underway by the time I arrived.
Lights burned from wall sconces around the arena.
The house was full. Every seat on the arena floor was taken.
The aisles were flooded with people going back and forth, carrying drinks.
People crowded around tables, and some weren’t even paying attention to the fight, instead choosing to socialize and drink and add to the noise.
Smoke from their pipes hazed over their heads.
Night darkened the glass ceiling, reflecting the scene inside the ring.
I caught several eyes as I started down the walkway. Some even jumped out the way to let me pass. My heart was thudding in my chest, afraid of how Max might greet me, if he was even alive. Afraid of his anger at my betrayal. Afraid he’d already been hurt beyond repair.
“Stop!” Max shouted from the floor. “I want my first time!”
A man jumped between Max and Damien, separating them with the sharp cry of a whistle. Damien retreated to his side, to the left, where he was met with water and blood to refuel him. He was shirtless and appeared uninjured so far.
Damien was different tonight. Even from a distance, he appeared taller, thicker, wider than the man who’d kidnapped me in his carriage.
He threw back his flask, shaking off whatever hit he got from the blood through his body when he was finished.
I thought I gained a glimpse of dark claws where his fingernails should have been.
His teeth, when he smiled at the crowd, were longer.
Sharper. I didn’t know what kind of blood he was drinking, but he was killing Max, just in the short time since the fight began.
Max didn’t return to his side, much to Elli and Andre’s confusion.
He turned around, searching the seats for something—someone.
One of his eyes was blackened, a contusion forming across the same cheek.
His lip was busted, shirt soaked with his own blood from what appeared to be lacerations across his chest. He passed a hand through his hair to push it from his eyes, streaking his silver hair crimson.
Those amber eyes found mine in an instant, locking with too many emotions to filter any certain one correctly.
He mouthed my name, “Nina.”
I descended the rest of the steps quickly, shoving people out of my way to meet him at the side of the ring, all the while keeping my dislocated thumb close to my chest.
“Nina! Bloody Architect,” he whispered. Max’s gaze raked over my face, his voice raspy as he asked, “Where have you been? I thought Damien took you. He said—”
“I went to get your relics back. They caught me, but I escaped. Here…” I offered him the dice still clenched in my hand. My fingers were pale and stiff from the cold.
Max didn’t look at the dice, however. His gaze had found my injured hand, and the cuff still attached to my other wrist. He took my outstretched hand in his own, placing a kiss on the back of my palm. As he did, his warm fingers mingled with mine, taking the dice back from my possession.
The crowd went quiet. Watching a different show play out.
“Hell, Nina,” he muttered. Fury filled his eyes, setting them aflame. His mouth opened, and I saw his elongated and sharp canines. “Why did you do this alone? Why did you do this at all?”
Shame filled my heart, and tears overflowed from my eyes. I’d held them back for so long, but now my dam was about to break. I blinked to clear them. “It doesn’t matter. Damien is working with Dupont; the address from the card led to the Governor’s mansion.”
Max nodded, brows pinching. “He’s the buyer then?”
I nodded. “He must be. But that’s not all—”
“Max! Your time is up. You’ve used up your only break,” the man running the duel shouted at him.
Damien waited in the center of the ring, staring at me like his head was about to explode.
Veins popped out of his neck, his forehead, his muscles bunched and tense as he realized what Max held in his hand. He beckoned for his flask once more.
“Max!” I tried to warn him again, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes scanned the arena.
“Bet on me, Nina,” he whispered, kissing my hand once more. He shouted toward his team as he turned back around. “Elli! Get her a healer.”
Andre was beside me immediately, pushing people aside as he ushered me to a front-row seat.
“I need to speak with you and Elli,” I told him.
“Bring her here!” Elli shouted over the noise.
Andre dragged me along while I watched Max meet Damien in the center of the ring.
Max shouted something. Damien snarled back, but there was a fear in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Now that Max had his full range of powers, he knew he was a true challenge.
But Damien was on something strange, that was clear.
Whatever blood he was drinking was giving him power unlike anything a Cursed had ever acquired from drinking from a bloodline.
A bell rang, restarting the round. I was put next to a middle-aged woman with curly dark hair and dark skin, who took one look at my head and my hand before pulling up her sleeves.
“This won’t be entirely painless. Brace yourself.”
Warmth flooded my wrist, purging the cold of the sewers as she popped the bone back into place. It was easier than expected, and she stole most of the pain so that it was no more than a dull ache as she reset my thumb.
I sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
“What’s wrong?” Andre asked.
I gritted my teeth, ignoring the healer’s magic weaving uncomfortably beneath my skin. “When did Damien get into the opium trade?”
Elli tore her attention from the ring at the word. “Why are you asking about that?”
Andre answered despite her. “A little over a month ago. He tested the stuff locally in the Lower District before expanding.”
“The same time Max’s dice went missing.”
“Convenient, yes, but we already discussed this. Why bring it up again?”
From the ring, Damien cried out. Max had struck him hard in the face, drawing blood from his nose. With his dice, he held himself straighter, his shoulders relaxed as he waited for Damien to recoil.
I told Andre, “Because Damien is helping Dupont. Didn’t you find it convenient Therell disappeared and made way for Dupont, while Max also went missing and was replaced by Damien? One got bodies and the other unrestricted access to Valveron’s undercity for his opium business.”
“So, what are you saying?” Elli asked.
“Damien can’t die,” I told her. “He’s not just financing the bodies, he’s working hand in hand with the Governor.
If we can get the truth out of him, we can find my mother and stop whatever he’s planning for the city.
” I pulled her close with my free hand. “Dupont has a girl called Sophie trapped in the mansion. She can’t leave.
I think that’s how he’s been getting information out of Ronnette. ”
“Sophie?” she breathed her name. “I thought she… You’re sure?”
“Positive. She helped me escape.”
“Sophie…” Elli’s face fell, gaze falling to something beyond the fighting ring. “Fuck… Why didn’t Ronny just come to us?” She sighed. “Alright, we need to make sure Damien can at least talk by the end of this.”
“I’ll do my best to keep Max from going too far,” Andre said. “But he’s… furious tonight. Seeing Nina didn’t help.”
The crowd sucked a breath as Damien used bloodline magic.
Anything metal in the stands collected in the air above our heads, swirling the perimeter as Damien collected silver watches, sharp pins holding up a lady’s hair, steel blades from a man’s pocket.
Whatever the Forge Archetype found, he gathered, turning it like a metallic storm above Max’s head.
I gripped Andre’s forearm, helpless as we watched on.
Max used his own Forge Archetype, creating a shield around himself as Damien sent each piece of metal spearing toward him. It reminded me of the night we escaped the Gatehouse, when I used the Forge die to deflect the bullets coming for us.
“Max still has to beat him…” Elli spoke warily, unsure herself.
I watched the duel as the torn ligaments in my wrist knitted together.
Max and Damien fought bare-knuckle, with only tape to support their fingers and wrists.
Damien played defense for a while. Dodging with supernatural speed as Max sent simple jabs at his face, blinded him with a stir of dust, seemingly dragging this out by taking simple approaches.
Both of them were tiring, their voices elevating as they became increasingly frustrated. The crowd had hushed significantly since my arrival, so we could hear the words they spat at each other.