Chapter 8
Eight
Ursula
Felditch clapped and everyone stopped talking.
We were missing two teams, the wolves and the cats. We’d seen what happened to the wolves, and either Nathaniel and Eloa had done the same to the other team or…well, cats notoriously hated water. Drowning or being eaten was also a very high possibility.
Our host was wearing a green shiny cape today over his gold jumpsuit, and he held a gem-encrusted staff. His hair was tied back in a knot, and there was a band of gold studded with emeralds around his head.
“This afternoon’s trial requires deadly skill, strength, and cunning.
” He spun in a slow circle, staff outstretched, and as he turned, the field we stood in transformed.
The grass gave way to clay-colored, packed soil; the forest, sea, and mountains vanished, and in their place a circular arena built from massive sandstone bricks sprouted from the earth, shooting up multiple stories high.
It looked like something from ancient Greece.
Felditch spun again, faster this time, and people appeared, packing the stands. I didn’t know if they were real or some kind of hologram, but their cheers and roars for blood certainly sounded real.
Nothing in this realm was what it seemed, though, I reminded myself.
Felditch held up his arms, again playing the ringmaster in this twisted game.
“You will have to work together to survive today’s challenge.
Every one of you is needed to defeat the beast who awaits you behind those doors!
” He spun, pointing his staff again, and huge steel doors appeared.
Roars and snarls immediately came from behind it.
“Yesterday, it was every being for themselves. Today, your very life may end up in the hands of someone you tried to murder yesterday!” The crowd grew quiet, listening to his every word.
“Let me make this very clear, if one of you is slain in battle during this event, you will all be disqualified and the tournament will end this very day.”
Silas cursed. I glanced his way and frowned.
I would have thought he’d love that. He’d be able to leave.
No, we wouldn’t win, but neither would the angels.
It’s not like he had an actual stake in this.
Which meant whatever Lucifer had offered him to do this had to be good—and dependent on a win.
There was no other reason he would have volunteered to do this with me, after the shit I’d given him for years.
Roars erupted again, deafeningly loud, and the teams fanned out. The witches were spelling under their breath, calling their magic forward. The angels had drawn their swords, the vamps’ fangs slid down as they drew their own weapons.
Silas reached back, tugged off his shirt and flung it aside, the studs in his nipples glinting in the sun as he shook out his arms, jerking his head from side to side, limbering up, before he extended his arm and his sword appeared.
I tore my eyes from him and slid my axe from its sheath, swinging the familiar weight through the air, loosening up my wrist and shoulder.
Silas glanced my way, taking in my battle-axe.
“Don’t worry, Si, I know what I’m doing,” I said.
“I know what an excellent warrior you are.” He flashed his white teeth in a dazzling smile. “I’m more than happy to be fighting beside Ursula the Relentless. With a name like that, we can’t lose.”
My heart did a pathetic little flutter. “Stop with the flirting, and focus on not dying.”
His grin slipped and his gaze dipped to my mouth.
I quickly turned away and followed my own damned advice.
“Are you ready!” Felditch called. The crowd went wild. Not waiting for our reply, he swung back toward the huge doors, flourished his staff—then vanished.
The crowd silenced as we backed up and eyed one another.
Despite what Felditch had said, I didn’t trust any of these assholes—and I knew they didn’t trust us either.
Who’s to say that, after yesterday’s event, someone here hadn’t gotten cold feet and wanted to go home?
Fear over what was about to burst through those doors could be incentive enough to take someone out and end this.
“We have to watch our backs,” I said to Silas. “We need to make sure we all get through this, even if one of the other teams has other ideas.”
His expression was hard, his face a mask of brutal focus. He nodded, and we both spun back as the doors slowly began to open.
We braced, ready for attack, the anticipation throbbing through me. The huge fifty-foot doors were almost all the way open. Not a sound came from the crowd. I tensed and gripped my axe as they finally swung the rest of the way.
We stared into oppressive darkness, the silence around us deafening. Nothing happened. Was this some kind of trick? Maybe this was a diversion from the real attack. I spun, searching the arena, the stands, the skies.
The witches looked at each other, and the vamps flashed fangs, then edged closer to get a better look. An earth-shaking roar burst from the dark depths, and the vamps were blasted back, sliding in the dirt across the ground. The crowd erupted, stomping and cheering.
Whatever was in there was fucking huge.
The vampires bounded back to their feet, and I prepared to attack.
The creature roared again from its stone confines, the ground shaking as it stomped forward in the darkness. I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the sun, trying to get a better look, but it was impossible.
A giant head burst forward through the wide opening, and we all stumbled back as it snapped long crocodile-like jaws filled with huge jagged teeth.
“What the fuck is that?” I bit out.
Silas shook his head, his gaze locked on the monster.
It jerked forward again, colliding with the wall, so huge it was struggling to get through the wide opening.
Above its head the stone cracked, causing refrigerator-sized chunks of rock to rain down, slamming into the ground.
We all bounded back, as the creature let loose a final earth-shaking roar, and burst through, showering us with rock and dust.
It coated my mouth and hair and I spat on the ground, dragging my arm across my stinging eyes—and finally saw why it was having trouble getting out.
The fucker had to maneuver not one, but two heads.
Both were snapping their jaws, their skulls like some deformed super-croc brought back from prehistoric times, but that’s where the reptilian similarities ended.
Its body was solid, its skin thick like a rhino, and if I had to guess, impenetrable.
Enormous talons, long and curved on the ends of muscled front legs, scraped at the packed earth as it moved, while its hind legs had wide hooves that sunk into the dirt from the sheer weight of it.
Perfect for stomping its prey to pulp. It snapped its jaws again, and made an ear-splitting shriek as it stood up on its hooves and swiped with its claws.
I’d never seen anything like it. It looked like something a child had invented, putting together a bunch of different animals to make one freakish monster. This had to be something Felditch had created especially for us.
The witches cried out and blasted it with fireballs they’d conjured. The beast reared up, stomping again, the fire barely leaving a mark. If we were going to take the creature down, we’d have to work as a collective.
I turned to Silas, about to ask him what our game plan was, but he burst into action, sprinting toward the beast. He roared as he closed in, leaping onto one of its knees and bounding up its side, then thrust his sword into its back, the sharp, Heaven-forged steel managing to penetrate its thick skin.
The creature shrieked and snapped, stomped and bucked.
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes on Silas. There was a menace in his gaze that set me on edge. What was his plan? Maybe not kill him—he wouldn’t risk ending the tournament—but he definitely wanted to maim Silas or poison him again. The hatred in his eyes said it all.
He leaped, about to burst into the air.
“No, you fucking don’t,” I bit out and jumped on Nathaniel’s back, causing him to swerve wildly.
The angel tried to shake me off, but I hung on, and as he flew higher, and before he could spin and throw me to the ground, I planted a boot between his wings as we neared Silas and launched myself forward, landing beside Si on the beast’s back.
Silas was still on the attack, stabbing the creature over and over again.
The witches had resumed their attack by fire, while the vamps moved with super speed, darting around it, slicing and hacking with each pass. Going for death by a thousand cuts.
Everyone seemed to be working together, at least for now. Well, the angels were doing the bare minimum, not risking their own necks.
Nathaniel swooped down again, stabbing the beast, barely missing Silas’s thigh as he did. My blood boiled. He was definitely trying to injure Si, probably with more poison, so he’d either struggle through or miss the next event entirely.
We needed to end this as soon as possible, before he succeeded.
“Watch your back,” I called to Silas, then sprinted across the monster’s shoulders and leaped onto its neck.
Hacking my axe deep into one side, I dove off, using my body weight as momentum to drag the razor-sharp, Hell-forged steel through its thick skin and slicing open one of its throats.
A weird, sludgy green liquid poured from the wound, and the head collapsed, hanging limp from its still-thrashing body.
That didn’t kill it though. We’d have to take out the other head to end this.
The witches closed in.
“Look out!” one of them called, and I dove to the side as they blasted fireballs at the eyes of its remaining head, blinding it.
Silas bounded across its back and jumped onto its neck, slammed his blade down, punching it almost right through, then jerked the blade right, then left, severing its spinal cord.