“Well, in that case, I should warn you I’m not gay.” He shrugged. “I am bi, though.”
With his words, I remembered why I was over here. “In that case, about Carmen…”
He raised an eyebrow as other students began to wander in. “You like her.”
I nodded, because I wasn’t about to explain that she was my mate to a stranger, even if he was attractive.
He nodded again. “I can see why. She’s something else. Beautiful. Fiery. She screams trouble.”
I snorted. “You’ve got that right.”
He gave me a wide grin that made my dick begin to harden. “Sounds like a handful. And you know what they say? Four hands are better than two.”
With that, he turned away and began to address the class, splitting them into skill levels, while I stood at the back trying to come to terms with what the fuck just happened.
5
Carmen
Sneaking out when your parents were all vampires and the town came alive at night was simultaneously easier and harder. Easier because everyone was at work, except Tex and Brody. Harder, because everyone was out in the streets. So I’d developed a foolproof system. I walked out the back door, through the backyard and into the woods behind the house. Then I’d run to the main road just outside the town limits and Bobby would pick me up.
All I had to do was pretend I wasn’t sneaking around. It was like stealing shit; if you put on a high-vis vest, no one asked questions.
I stood on the side of the road at our designated pick up spot. We’d gotten it down to a fine art since the first time we’d done this two years ago. Bobby had worked out pretty quick that I was up to something, and basically nagged me until I told him what it was. He’d threatened to tell my parents if I didn’t let him come.
So I had, and secretly, I was glad he was there. He gave me a certain peace of mind that I wouldn’t have had otherwise. He was strong and powerful and I felt secure with him in a way I rarely felt with anyone outside my parents and Christopher.
Bobby’s beat up pickup truck pulled up, and I climbed in before it even came to a complete stop. I hadn’t seen Bobby all week. Not since that kiss.
But man, I’d thought about that kiss every single second of every single day since then. Still, I needed to play it cool.
“Hey, stranger. Thanks for the ride.”
Bobby gave me a weird look, but just nodded. “Who are you fighting tonight?”
I shrugged. “Dunno, Rat didn’t say. Just that he had some new contenders come up from the States if I wanted to fight.”
Bobby’s frown deepened. “From the States?”
“Uh huh.” I put my feet up on his dash, my worn high tops leaving dust prints on the plastic.
Bobby reached over and pushed my ankles down. “If we crash, the airbag will shove your knees into your eye sockets and destroy your face.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but dropped my feet into the footwell. “Wouldn’t you love me if my face was all mangled?”
He was silent and I huffed. Not going to lie, I was a little hurt too. “It was a joke, Bobby. We kissed, I don’t expect a confession of undying love. I’ve forgotten about it already.”
Lie. Lie. Lie.
Bobby was still silent, but his fingers gripped the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. I looked out the window for the rest of the trip, ignoring the tension in the cabin of the truck.
Despite how much shit I gave him, Bobby was my best friend. Sure, we had our moments. We fought as often as we laughed, but Bobby? He’d had my back since I was five. So the sooner we got over this kiss weirdness, the better.
I needed Bobby.
Luckily the trip was pretty quick, and we drove up to an abandoned storage shed in the middle of nowhere. It sat on the very boundaries of Pack lands, in a sort of grey area. The Nîso Pack Enforcers didn’t patrol it, but it was still technically part of the greater Nîso lands. I think that was the only reason Bobby let me come to these things, because even though he was twenty-two, and not all the people in attendance were Pack, he still had a little bit of authority. We pulled up under a tree, and I slammed out of the pickup, dragging my gear behind me. It was bare knuckle fighting, so I didn’t really need a lot, but I had a lot of first aid crap in here just in case, including a mouthguard. I could heal most things, but I couldn’t regrow teeth.
I waited patiently by the door until Bobby rounded the hood, and then he walked us in. Metal music played from huge speakers in the corners of the room and people writhed as they danced. It was packed here tonight, lots of familiar faces, but a lot of strangers too. It put me on alert.
Outsiders were never good, but I was itching for a fight. Bobby looked tense, his shoulders bunched as we walked through the crowd. The ones I knew as Pack moved aside, but a lot had no fucking idea. He stared them down until they dropped their eyes, but some of them weren’t shifters and blatantly held his gaze.
There were no fancy change rooms or any shit like that, but Bobby led me to my usual corner. It was beside a window, away from where the booze was, and he could shove me in a corner where he didn’t have to watch both my back and my front. It was fine with me. I wasn’t here to mingle. I was here to bleed.
Rat appeared from the darkness, his grin lifting the edges of his scar. He wasn’t as old as he looked, but he wasn’t young either. Apparently too much liquor and blow could age even a shifter.
“Pretty girl! Glad you showed tonight,” he shouted, and Bobby gritted his teeth. He didn’t like Rat. I didn’t want to be his best friend either, but he was a means to an end.
I rolled my shoulders. “Nowhere I’d rather be.”
Rat nodded repeatedly. “You’re opening with a kid from this new bunch. It’ll be a good fight, but watch his hands. They go up like the Fourth of July,” he giggled as he wandered off. Yeah, Rat was off his face already.
I pulled my earbuds out of my duffle and put them in my ears, blocking out the crowd as the sounds of Marilyn Manson’s Sweet Dreams pumped into my ears. I strapped my fists, swaying to the music in the earphones. Bobby grabbed my right hand and strapped it properly. I looked up at him from under my lashes, my eyes snagging on his lips. Memories of how they felt beneath mine, how his body felt between my thighs, swam up unbidden, and I pushed them back down. I needed to be focused.
I kicked my shoes off, and shrugged out of my oversized hoodie. I’d stolen it ages ago from Bobby, and he let me keep it. It was my lucky hoodie; I hadn’t died in it yet.
I bounced on the balls of my feet, stretching quickly, warming up my muscles. One of Rat’s enforcers appeared, dipping his head respectfully at Bobby. He met my eyes, tilting his head at the ring.
I appreciated the fact he was big and silent. I couldn’t have heard him anyway. I nodded, rolling my shoulders a few more times. I tore my earbuds from my ears and the sound of some screaming metal band made me wince.
I stepped forward, and Bobby walked with me. There was no octagon at this fight. It was rudimentary, underground fighting at its best. There was a ring in the dirt. Rat made it clear that if anyone stepped into the ring during the fight, he cancelled all bets, kept the money, and the pissed off crowd would tear apart the offender.
It was barbaric, but it worked. You could use your supernatural strength and speed, but no shifting to animals. If people wanted to see a dog fight, they’d just go see a dog fight.
I took a deep breath, shaking my wrists, and stepped over the white, painted line.
On the other side of the clearing, a kid stepped into the ring too. He had to be my age, maybe a year or so older judging by his build.
And the guy was built. He was tight. His muscles looked hard as rocks beneath his pale skin, and the V of his obliques were cut like the damn Grand Canyon. Scars criss-crossed his entire body and I swallowed hard. He was in tight shorts, and he had these weird metal bands on his wrists. That shit would hurt if it connected, but I wasn’t going to be a wuss and complain to Rat about it.
&nbs
p; When my eyes climbed to his face, it was to see a mouthguard flashing back at me as he grinned. I turned back to Bobby, who slipped mine into my mouth.
Bobby looked like he wanted to drag me out of here, so I stepped further into the center ring. There were no referees, just a high-as-fuck Rat.
I stood beside him, bouncing gently on my feet to stay warm. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a real Lady and the Tramp matchup for you today. Our hometown girl versus our newcomer for the night—Flint, is it?”
The guy gave a sharp nod. Flint. It suited him, like his parents had named him after the dark grey color of his eyes.
“You know the rules. Fight goes until someone’s unconscious or dead. No tap outs.”
Flint quirked an eyebrow, but nodded. I lifted my chin. I knew the rules by now.
Rat stumbled out of the ring. I drifted back to the edge as the crowd muttered, placing bets and getting drinks before the fight.
I watched the kid in front of me. He held himself tight, despite the casual swing of his arms as he moved around. Flint was ready for a fight, no matter what direction it came from. “You’re kind of cute,” he yelled over the jeers of the crowd, his voice muffled from his mouthguard, but years of fighting meant I was used to conversing with mouthguards in. “Too pretty for the ring, anyway.”
I grinned, and I could feel the feral stretch of it. “Not too pretty to kick your ass. Are you going to be a talker? ‘Cause I really only like that in the bedroom.”
I lunged forward and he danced away with a laugh. “Oh, it’s like that, hey? Just so you know, I can’t go easy on you.”
I frowned a bit at his words. I mean, I’d heard it all before, but usually it was won’t, not can’t. He lunged forward and jabbed at my face, and I cursed myself for my distraction. It just grazed my chin, enough to hurt but not enough to do any damage.
I reset myself, watching him move. He was fast and strong. He fought like he’d been doing it forever, his body relaxed like this was just another day at the office. But he had to be like eighteen. How could an eighteen-year-old move like a career fighter?
I feinted left, and then delivered a sharp jab to his ribs. He moved with the hit, minimizing the damage.
Definitely a pro.
I danced out of the range of his arms, but he was taller than me, with a longer reach. I was going to have to be smarter if I didn’t want to die tonight. And despite the fact I needed these fights like I needed to breathe, I didn’t want to die while I did it.
Flint laughed. “Pretty and fast. Not gonna lie, Sugar Plum, I think I might be in love.”
The noise of the crowd faded into the background as we measured each other up. I moved without thinking. I let my body do the work, flowing around him to come up behind him and slam a fist into his kidneys. When he let all his weight drop backwards, I launched myself onto his back and twisted, aiming a few blows to his temple.
But as my back brushed the dirt, I realized I’d made a fatal error in judgement. I’d been too fixated on how fast he’d been, but despite his lean muscles, he was heavier than me too.
Just before I hit the dirt with a thud, he twisted, locking his legs in mine and getting under my guard. He grinned. “Sorry, Sugar Plum.”
Then his fist hurtled toward my face. KO. Lights out.
6
Flint
Damn, she was fucking gorgeous. She was still pressed under my body, and for a second, I imagined it was pleasure that put her in this position, not pain. Someone called the fight, and then a hand was wrapping around my throat and dragging me off.
The big guy she’d come with was there, glaring down at me. I grinned, letting my power trickle into my hands. “It was a love tap. She’ll be up in a minute, but she’ll have a hell of a headache.”
I’d pulled my punch, which meant I was going to get my ass kicked, but it was better than making her bleed. I hadn’t drawn the fight out for long enough either, and that meant nothin’ good.
I climbed to my feet and tried not to meet Rook’s gaze in the crowd. I could feel his eyes on me as I dusted myself off. The big guy picked up the girl, cradling her in his arms like she was a breakable doll and not a fighter.
“What’s her name?” I asked in a lowered voice. Last thing I needed was to show too much interest in anyone.
“None of your damn business,” the guy growled.
I gritted my teeth. “She fought well. I just want to put a name to the fists.” I pointed to where a bruise was blossoming on my gut.
The guy hesitated. “Carmen.”
Hmm, it suited her. Pretty, but tough. “If you like her half as much as you seem to, keep her away from this shit for the next couple of weeks.” Until Rook was gone. Until I was gone.
The guy snorted and made his way out of the ring. She still hadn’t woken up, but I wasn’t worried. I hadn’t hit her hard enough to do any real damage.
I made my way out of the ring, but no one cheered, no one slapped me on the back. I was basically a junkyard dog, trained to tear out throats and get kicked around without biting back. I made my way to my shit in the corner, pulling on my boots and my hoodie. I fought barefoot, but I knew better than to walk around venues like this with no shoes. Only had to step on one dirty needle to learn that lesson. The next contenders got into the ring, both big bastards, and I knew from their faces that one of them was going to die tonight.
I needed to get the fuck out of here. The smell of these things was always godawful, like piss and cigarettes. And sweat. I pushed through the back of the crowd and out the back door. I walked past a couple fucking in the bushes, and tuned out the sounds of the grunting. There was a dirty trailer in the woods that Rat had put there for our crew. And I mean, it was filthy. There were cockroaches and fleas, suspicious stains and smears. The floor of the ring would probably be cleaner. But I’d slept in worse places, and that said something about my life.
There were three of us in here, but the other two guys weren’t back yet. I rested my head against the door of the trailer, probably the cleanest part of the whole thing because the paint was peeling from the force of the weather. I didn’t want to be in there yet either.
I got so little time alone, I was going to enjoy it for once.
“Kid.”
My body stiffened of its own accord, but I forced it to relax. I turned, my usual sneer across my face. I was met with a fist.
It slammed across my face with bone-crunching force. Something shattered and I could only hope it healed right. I hit the ground hard, but scrambled to my feet because once Rook started laying in the boots, I’d be in for a world of pain.
“You bitch out of a fight like that again, I’ll show you what I do to bitches.”
Fear made my muscle tense and my heart race. I nodded sharply, not daring to so much as breathe in case he took it as an insult.
He backhanded me once more, making my head slam against the trailer wall, and then turned and melted back into the darkness. I stayed still until he was gone, and then I sucked in a deep, panicked breath.
I stared at the cuffs on my wrists, the ones that marked me as what I was. A slave. A half-blood Djinn with enough juice to make the illegal cuffs work, enough to have Anadari bracelets bind me to Rook as my master.
Sure, the Djinn Council had banned them years ago after the battle of New York, destroying every pair they could find, but still, on the odd occasion they popped up on the black market.
You know what else popped up on the black market? Orphaned Djinn kids.
Some days, I wanted to cut off my hands to be free of them, other days I knew I only had to survive another 86 years, and they’d come off of their own accord.
The bitter laugh that bubbled from my throat echoed around the woods, and I distracted myself from my morbid reality with thoughts of the girl from tonight. Carmen. So fucking fierce.
I went to the back of the trailer and slid down the side. I didn’t feel the cold, and sleeping under the trailer was more agreeable than sleeping
inside it with the guys. Eric was a straight up psycho who would murder me for my teeth, and Silar never slept anyway. I’d appreciated that over the years. Silar was a good guy with a shit past, which is how he ended up fighting for Rook. He’d taken care of me as a kid, but he was getting old and slow. I knew, deep down, that one day he wouldn’t win his fight.
He’d be dead and buried in an unmarked grave like so many before him. And then it would be my job to take care of the younger ones. To make sure the predators in Rook’s crew didn’t make their lives any more miserable.
I slid beneath the trailer, looking up at the underside. But in front of me weren't wheel bearings and crankshafts. In front of me was a pretty girl with flashing blue eyes. And I wasn’t a slave, I was her equal. Maybe we went to high school together. She’d wear my jacket like we were in fucking Riverdale and I was Archie and she was Veronica or some bullshit. I’d kiss her full red lips, and she’d gaze up at me with those wide eyes set in thick lashes as she wrapped those perfect cupid’s bow lips around my cock.
I popped a boner in my shorts, and I wished I’d slipped into my sweats before getting under here. Still, I reached in and grabbed my cock. There was rarely a moment that I was alone, and honestly, some of the shit I’d seen had killed my sex drive.
But apparently it only took one pouty little brunette to bring it back. I imagined her soft curves beneath my body when I took her to the ground. I imagined what her husky voice would sound like as she whispered my name. She was fit and I bet she would be glorious naked. I pulled my dick, imagining her mouth around it. She’d be rough, but I’d love it. I’d slide my dick inside her tight body and I’d fuck her until she was screaming my name over and over.
I pulled my cock harder, more roughly. Jesus, I was going to come like I’d never touched myself before. I rolled to my side, and I imagined her lips on mine, laying her head on my chest and telling me her hopes and dreams. I imagined being in a position that I could help her achieve them. I imagined her whispering ‘I love you’ into my ear as she rode my dick.
Rebels and Runaways: Eden Academy Book One Page 4
