Chapter 10
TEN
SLOAN
Sloan turned, taking in a large breath of the cool night air. The weather was perfect—not too cold, but chill enough to bring a light ripple of goosebumps down her skin. The mat below her feet shuddered under the gargoyle’s weight.
She moved forward, hands up and knees bent. The light from the moon and stars aided by a few flaming braziers in the backyard were plenty of light to see by.
It didn’t seem like Kimberly was in a talking mood. Her hands came at Sloan like battering rams. No doubt the gargoyle knew what she was doing. The form she chose for her boxing stance was the best Sloan had seen from any fighter.
If it hadn’t been for Sloan’s transformation into something more than human, she wouldn’t have a chance. But she was something different now. Her own movements were faster than any human’s had a right to be.
Sloan ducked and weaved out of the range of Kimberly’s strikes. Sweat began to bead down Sloan’s forehead as she took her time, looking for an opening in her target’s defenses. Likewise, Kimberly was beginning to understand there was more to her opponent than met the eye.
“Stand still,” Kimberly growled as she pushed forward with another onslaught of punches.
Sloan ignored the request as she continued to telegraph the blows and maneuver out of the way. Once her opportunity came, she knew she had to take it. Kimberly opened up her left rib cage to an attack, and Sloan pivoted her hips, sending her full body weight behind her right fist.
Her hand slammed into Kimberly’s ribs so hard, there were two separate snaps: one from Kimberly’s ribcage, the other from Sloan’s hand. Both women stumbled back. Kimberly went down to a knee.
Pain, one part numbing and one part fire, lanced through Sloan’s hand. She brought in her right fist to her chest, cradling her injured hand. She had seen and endured enough wounds herself to understand she had broken her wrist.
But along with the pain came a warm sensation that wrapped itself around her palm.
In seconds, the discomfort was gone. Sloan looked down at her hand.
She flexed her fingers. She made a fist and opened her palm a few times over to make sure what she was witnessing was, in fact, real. Her hand was completely healed.
“How?”
Sloan looked up to see Kimberly struggle to her feet. She held her left ribs with her right hand. Her face was contorted into confusion and rage.
“What are you?”
“I don’t really know yet.” Sloan raised her hands and moved forward to finish the fight. “But after we finish here, I intend to find out.”
The bell rang, signaling the end of the first round. Both combatants glared at one another before returning to their respective corners of the ring.
“That was remarkable,” Edison breathed as he and Oliver, along with Elwood, entered the ring to check out Sloan’s injury. “You can heal at a rate that far surpasses any vampire soldier we created.”
Elwood offered water and the towel to Sloan.
Sloan squirted the cold liquid into her mouth.
“You caught her by surprise the first time, but she won’t let it happen again.” Oliver knelt by Sloan, giving her a look she had seen a thousand times before. It was the look men usually gave her when they knew she was going to put herself in harm’s way. “Be careful.”
Sloan wondered if Oliver would give the same caution and worry to a man if he was going into a boxing ring.
The bell ran again with two quick chimes.
Sloan was back on her feet and walking to the middle of the triangle-shaped battleground.
Kimberly had wrapped her side in white tape. The stark white bandage contrasted against her dark grey skin and brown leather shorts and sports bra she wore.
This time when Kimberly came, she wasn’t in her perfect boxing stance, neither was she ready to talk. The gargoyle rushed Sloan, taking her off guard. She swooped in, half-running, half-flying as her massive grey wings spread out on either side of her back.
Soon, Sloan wasn’t only blocking fists; she was blocking wings and a tail. Kimberly fought like a demon incarnate. Still faster, Sloan did everything she could to avoid the blows, but sidestepping an onslaught from so many strikes and from so many different appendages proved too much.
Blows landed across Sloan’s face, opening lacerations that spit dark red blood. Sloan’s arms felt like rubber as she blocked fists, wings, and the gargoyle’s tail.
Hold it together, Sloan thought. You’ll heal. If you’re going to have to stand here and take the blows, might as well give her a taste of her own medicine.
Sloan abandoned her original idea of picking apart her opponent with well-placed, patient strikes. Now she began throwing her fists at Kimberly, hitting her just as many times as she was being struck in return.
Somewhere in the back of Sloan’s mind she knew the rounds were only three minutes long, but while she was in the middle of the ring, exchanging blows with the gargoyle, time felt like it was dragging on into an eternity.
Soon, Sloan’s arms began to tire. Apparently, where speed and strength were among her new abilities, endurance had not been added to her box of tools.
When the bell rang again, both combatants were a bloody mess. There was so much blood in Sloan’s eye, it obscured her vision. Her dark blonde hair was plastered to her face with a mix of sweat and blood.
Kimberly stumbled as she took a step back.
The gargoyle didn’t look much better than Sloan.
Her height had made it difficult for Sloan to land many strikes to her face, but she had opened a cut that bled profusely down the giant’s left side of her lip.
Along with this were dozens of bruises so intense, they already began to show through the gargoyle’s grey skin.
Along Kimberly’s arms and chest, she was showing a variety of black-and-dark-blue marks.
“Whatever you are,” Kimberly said over her shoulder as she made her way back to her bench, “I’m going to finish you next round.”
Sloan didn’t bother responding. She was gauging the place of the moon in the sky. The very edges of the horizon were beginning to shift color now, from a dark black to a dim orange.
The sun would be out soon. They had another two, maybe three, rounds if the fight lasted that long before Kimberly would be forced to find shade or be turned to stone by the sun.
“That was amazing.” Edison placed the stool down for her, wiping away the blood and sweat from her face with the towel Elwood had provided. “How are you feeling?”
“It still hurts as bad as it ever did when I get hit or a cut opens up, but within seconds, I can feel it healing.” Sloan opened her mouth for Oliver to squirt in a gulp of water.
“She’s tough. I’m landing punches all over her body, but I really need to gain some height to hit her in the head.
I’m starting to tire. I don’t know if I can make it long enough to wait for the sun to come up. ”
“I think you’re right.” Edison took away the towel. It had lost most of its whiteness and was now a deep shade of red. “She might have more endurance than you, but you’re stronger.”
“I agree.” Oliver began moving out of the ring as the next bell signaled the fighters forward. “You’re stronger than she is. You can finish the fight now if you push yourself.”
Sloan nodded as she forced herself to her legs and met Kimberly in the ring for what she hoped would be the last round.