by Celia Aaron
And then I knew what to do. My father had made his mistakes, committed his sins. Gavin’s sister hadn’t. I wouldn’t let her suffer. I could lose this battle, but win the war by giving in to Cal’s demand.
Gavin clambered to his feet and I kicked him in the stomach. He stumbled back as I launched myself onto him, wrapping my legs around him as he staggered back into the unforgiving wall. I took his head between my hands and knocked it against the stones.
“Fuck!” He grabbed my waist and tried to pull me off.
“You have to win this.” I hissed in his ear.
He stopped struggling against me, so I punched the side of his head. “Don’t stop. Make it look good. But win. For your sister.”
He punched me in the ribs. I gasped and fell back, landing on my feet. I brought my hands up.
The wails of Brianne’s mother carried down to our ears as we circled each other again. The crowd went silent, and the rain began to intensify.
He lunged at me, but I sidestepped easily and swung around, landing the back side of my fist into his kidney. Stumbling forward, he doubled over. I kicked his legs out from under him and jumped on top. The crowd roared as I rained blows down on his face. He threw his arms up and tried to block me.
“Fight back.” I said through clenched teeth.
He rolled to his right, throwing me onto my back and climbing on top of me. His palms slid against my wet skin as he wrapped his hands around my throat.
“Squeeze harder. Leave marks.” I gasped, and he obeyed.
I clawed at his hands as the cold rain soaked into my clothes. When my vision began to dim, I pushed one arm between his and wrenched his elbow out to the side. It gave me the opening I needed to flip him and climb off. I backed away, my neck burning from his pressure.
“We still have a live one down there, my friends.” Cal laughed.
I bent over and put my hands on my knees, taking deep breaths as Gavin scrambled to his feet and approached me. We were both wet and muddy as the rain began to pour. “Just give up now. You’ve put on a good enough show.”
I shook my head. “More. We need more. We can’t risk it.” I exploded off my back foot and nailed him in the jaw with my right fist. Pain burst along my knuckles as he stumbled backwards.
Aiming a kick at his side, I struck him squarely with the tip of my boot. He howled and tightened up, pulling his arm in close to the injured spot. I darted away, adrenaline making my movements even faster.
Tracking my arc, he tackled me and we rolled until I was able to crawl away. He grabbed my ankle and hauled me back. I rolled onto my back and kicked at him, but he grabbed my knees and pinned me between his thighs. His fist came as a blur, and pain radiated from my eye and across my face.
I screamed and fought as he tried to get his hands around my throat again. Another burst of pain at my temple and my vision went dark for a moment before brightening almost unbearably.
“I’m sorry.” He hit me again, this time lighting my ribs on fire. Another blow on my other side had me writhing and trying to dig my elbows into the soft ground and slide away from him. Rain pelted my face as he loomed over me, his fist drawn back. I covered my face, but he connected with the back of my forearm. Crying out, I scratched deep gouges in his neck. He slapped me, the sound like a shot, the pain bringing tears to my eyes.
I bucked hard and pushed with my right foot. He toppled sideways, and I scooted back from him. Turning to get on all fours, I tried to crawl away. His weight landed on my back, crushing me as his forearm went around my throat.
“Pass out.” He hissed in my ear. “I can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t. Please don’t make me.”
I struggled, digging my nails into his arm and trying to roll him off me. He was too big. My breathing became labored simply from his weight on my back.
“That’s enough. They’ll buy it. Please. It’s enough.” He squeezed a little. “Just stop.”
I slowed my movements and let my head loll to the ground.
“Thank you,” he whispered as the crowd roared.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SINCLAIR
STELLA STOPPED MOVING, AND the crowd erupted in cheers. Her pain had me stretched tight, every fiber I possessed pulled to its breaking point.
“Well done, Gavin! You’ve made Bob proud. Head on back inside while they attend to Stella. She needs to get ready for the bitch fight.”
The crowd chuckled.
“It will be a fun one. I saved the best for last.” Cal turned toward me. “Sin, my fellow redhead lover, you’re up.”
Stella’s father cowered as I strolled to the tray of implements. Some of them were far too coarse for my tastes, tools made for rough trades when I was more of an artist. I played my fingers along the handles and blades until I came to a particularly sharp set of pruning sheers. They would have been appropriate, given the vines that snaked their way around me, caging me even as I was out in the open air, but I needed to go bigger.
“Please…” Mr. Rousseau shook and stared at me, his eyes wide and his chains jingling with each shudder.
I ignored him and continued down the row of tools. A particularly sharp cleaver glinted in the low light, the blade covered with tiny droplets of mist. I gripped it and pulled it from the tray. Heavy in my hand, the blade would do well for what I had in mind. Red sat on the bench in front of me, Brianne’s bloodied mother lying at his feet, her eyes open and glassy. The child cowered as I walked past, but Red sat still, eyes forward. Crimson marred his white button-down and a few splatters had crusted on his face.
I stopped in front of Stella’s father. He grimaced and leaned away from me. His lip trembled and a line of spit oozed from one side of his mouth.
“Mr. Rousseau, hold out your hand.”
“N-no.” He shook his head. “Please don’t.”
“If you make me tell you again, I’ll take two hands instead of one.” I turned the blade this way and that, watching the light play along the razor sharp edge.
The girl whimpered and tried to scoot away. It was futile. Her chains kept her close.
I glanced at her. “Look at your feet and cover your ears.”
Her chin trembled, but she did as instructed.
“Good girl. See? Mr. Rousseau? It’s not hard to comply. Do you want me to tell you again, or would you like to lose just the one hand?”
A high-pitched strangled sound came from his throat, and he locked his terrified eyes on mine.
“Tense.” Cal’s hiss oozed through the speakers.
A tear rolled down his paper-thin cheek and he held out his shaking left hand. “Stella wouldn’t want you to—”
I slapped him hard enough to split his lip. The crowd tittered at my back. “I told you never to say her name. And another thing—” I wrenched his hand to the side and pinned it to the bench next to him. “—Stella may as well have told me to do this.”
I lowered my voice. “She lost on purpose. She wanted this for you. She knows you deserve it instead of the child. She knows doing this to you doesn’t pain me at all. She’s saved me. Again. Choosing you to suffer means that neither the child nor I have to suffer. Don’t you see?” I pressed the cleaver to his wrist. He tried to hit me with his free hand, but I pushed back, my full weight crushing him as I lined up my stroke on his age-spotted skin.
“No, no, please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t—”
I held the blade up high so everyone would see. The crowd gasped, anxious for the severing stroke.
“She’s chosen me over you.” I brought the cleaver down hard. His scream of pain pierced the air and rent the darkening sky. Cheers went up from the spectators.
The hand pulled away cleanly. I rose and grabbed it by the fingers, lifting it above my head as his agonized screams fed the bloodthirsty crowd. Then I tossed it down into the grass like a piece of garbage.
“Oh ho-ho, Sinclair came to play.” Cal gave me an elaborate bow from his platform. “Well done.”
Stella’
s father screamed again before huddling over his maimed limb and rocking back and forth. Satisfaction welled inside me, though I knew Stella wouldn’t approve.
“Amazing. Ladies and gents, give Stella’s father a hand!” Cal laughed, practically screaming at his own joke.
I leaned down so only her father could hear me. “That was a small price to pay for betraying her. I almost hope she loses again so I can finish the job.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
STELLA
ROUGH HANDS DRAGGED ME back into the stone walls of the fort. I kept my eyes closed even as they dropped me on the hard floor. Footsteps clacked along the stones, and then I was doused with freezing water. I opened my eyes and sputtered, no acting necessary.
Sophia stood above me, hands on her hips. “Sit up.”
I struggled to a sitting position, my body aching, my face especially.
She knelt and wrinkled her nose in distaste before waving the attendants away. “You will win this.”
I stared at her, unsure of what sort of pep talk this was.
She grabbed my chin, her nails digging into me. “You will win this.” Her voice was a threatening whisper, her eyes malevolent. “Sinclair will be the next Sovereign with me at his side. If you fail me, the consequences will be beyond your worst nightmares.”
I laughed and spit in her face. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“You little bitch!” She screamed as if I’d burned her, and wiped my bloody spit from her cheek. “Sinclair will hear about this.”
I shrugged, the simple movement sending shooting pains down my spine. “Yeah, go ahead and tell him I think you’re a cunt while you’re at it.”
She raised her hand to strike me, but paused as I stared her down. She was beautiful, her face a perfect oval, her eyes dark and sultry, her lips an indulgent red pout. My hands itched to destroy all of it.
She seemed to rethink the idea of hitting me, and dropped her hand. “I’ll make sure you regret that.”
“Put it on my fucking tab.” I would fight to the death to keep Teddy safe, but this bitch would never be a part of that calculus. She was just a grasping climber, trying to hang on to the man she saw as the next Sovereign.
I looked past her and saw Brianne leaning against the wall by the door, her eyes closed. Sophia rose and stormed away, her heels echoing on the cold stone.
“Brianne?” I crawled over to her.
We would have to fight. One of us would lose. I clenched my eyes shut. The knowledge that more blood would be on my hands made the room spin. My actions to protect Gavin’s sister had led to this, but was I strong enough to follow through and let my father meet his fate?
A scream sounded, followed by the roar from the crowd overhead, loud enough to make it through the heavy doors and thick walls.
She mumbled and didn’t open her eyes.
“Brianne?” I got to my knees in front of her and stroked her hair from her face.
Mr. Tablet walked up behind me. “Let’s go. It’s time.”
“She can’t go again. Look at her.”
A shooting pain in my ribs took my breath away. I fell to my hip. Mr. Tablet had kicked me.
He tried to grab my hair, but he was slow. I shot my legs out and sent him toppling over. Wrath coated every one of my senses as I climbed on top of him, pinning his arms to his sides with my knees. I nailed him with a right, breaking his nose as he screamed. I hit him again and again, my aching fists making fleshy sounds against his pudgy face.
Two other attendants grabbed my arms and ripped me off him, though I got in a good kick to his ribs before they threw me to the floor next to Brianne. My ass hit the ground hard, and a shooting pain tore up my back.
One of the attendants opened the door.
“Bring them out. We’re ready for the bitches to go at it.” Cal’s irritated voice filled the air.
I got to my feet again as an attendant yanked Brianne up by her arm.
She flailed for a moment and opened her eyes. She looked everywhere, but seemed to see nothing. Despite her reticence, she fell into step with her attendant, and we walked out onto the muddy grass.
“Ah, here we are. Two beauties ready to fight it out. May the best bitch win.” Scattered applause rang out as the attendants retreated through the doors and closed them.
“Brianne. We have to do this, okay?” I hadn’t formed a plan for her. The knowledge of what would happen if I lost blinded me too much to think.
My father was doubled over, his face hidden. Sin stood behind him, his eyes on me. He lifted his chin toward Brianne, silently telling me to attack her.
“Bri, we have to. Come on.”
“Do you need the attendants to beat you into it, ladies? Get to it.” Cal’s voice was a harsh bark, as if he were worried he was losing the crowd.
A high pitched whine came from above. Red grabbed Brianne’s mother and shook her. “Fight, bitch, or I kill her right here, right now.”
Brianne raised her face toward her mother, and her eyes widened. “Mommy.”
Red threw her bloodied mother onto a bench, and Brianne lowered her gaze to mine. “I’ll kill you.” She took a step toward me, her knees wobbling and her eyes focused.
“I always love encouragement, Red. Works for me.” Cal laughed. “I can’t help but notice poor Brianne isn’t doing so well. I don’t think this is a fair fight. Do you?”
The crowd booed.
“I know. Let’s make this more interesting. Give Brianne a baton and one of those shocker things. You know what I mean.”
The doors opened, Mr. Tablet hurried over to Brianne. He gave her his black baton and drew a hand-sized device from his belt. She took the weapons but kept her eyes on me. Her face was blank. I could feel her resolve. There was no other way this could end. Either her blood would die, or mine.
“I have to do it.” She pressed the button and an electrical current shot through the tines on the end of the taser.
I backed up, trying to buy time. “Briann—”
“I have to.” She rushed me and swung hard with the baton.
“And we’re off to the races!” Cal cried.
I ducked and threw my shoulder into her stomach. She grunted and fell back, but held the taser out so I couldn’t get close. Getting to her feet, she squared herself and followed me as I backed away. She was thin and weak. Even so, her love for her mother fueled her forward on unsteady legs.
Keeping my hands up, I waited for her swing. When it came, I darted close to her body and punched her in the back. She screamed and fell to her knees, but recovered before I could attack again.
“I won’t let you kill my mother. I won’t.” She swung the baton in front of her, as if she were warming up.
The accusation was a deep wound, a slow bleed. “I’m not killing her. They are.”
“No!” She screamed. “If you win, it’s you. You did it.” Her voice broke as she advanced.
I’d backed halfway around the courtyard when she sprinted at me. The baton was a dark blur as it struck the side of my neck, and I narrowly dodged her extended hand holding the stun gun. I tried to grab her as she shot past, but she was already out of range by the time I’d recovered from the hit.
She came again as a close bolt of lightning blinded me. I tried to grab for the baton as she swung, but it connected with my fingers. I didn’t know I’d screamed until I pulled my hand back, my index and middle fingers bent at unnatural angles, both numb and yet excruciating at the same time. Clutching my injured hand to my chest, I turned and ran, the soggy ground sucking at my boots. There was no escape, just the circle that endlessly led me back to suffering.
I spun, and Brianne collided with me, both of us falling in a tangle. Crawling away, I got to my feet. She was still on all fours, trying to get up, her breaths labored. I kicked her in the side, and she flipped onto her back. It was my chance to end it.
Dropping on top of her, I pressed my forearm against her windpipe and tried to hold her stun-gun-hand with the ot
her. The baton cracked across the back of my head and the world went dark for a moment. Then a burning sensation rushed up my side and I fell over, my entire body sizzling like a steak in a pan.
Brianne let up with the stun gun and beat me with the baton, her blows raining down on my side and my head as I tried to cover myself. She shrieked with each swing, primal fury rolling off her as agony bloomed everywhere the baton struck. I curled into a ball, and the distinct cracking sound and burst of misery as she nailed my ribs made me scream.
I had to get up. If I didn’t, my father would die at Sin’s hand. I couldn’t let it happen. I took a pained breath and shot my foot out, striking Brianne in the knee. It caved inward and she fell, still flailing with the baton. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, and everything was hazed in red. I crawled on top of her as she swung again with the baton. Something snapped in my upper arm on the impact. She’d dropped the stun gun when she fell.
Lightning blasted nearby, and the deep roll of thunder shook the earth beneath us. She swung again, slower this time, and I grabbed the baton and ripped it from her grip.
Tossing it away, I leaned over her and ignored her clawing fingers. I gripped her throat with my good hand and pressed as she scratched at my face. She was too weak, the fight leaving her as surely as the oxygen left her bloodstream. I bore down on her throat with my weight as she stared up at me.
Her movements grew more and more sluggish until the crazed light finally left her eyes. They closed, and she was at peace, as if I’d soothed her to sleep with a caress instead of the bleakest violence.
The crowd erupted in cheers as I collapsed onto the wet ground beside Brianne. Rain poured down my face, but I would never be washed clean of what I’d done.
“It looks like Sin’s feisty redhead has won this round. Team Vinemont sure knows how to pick ‘em.” I could hear the leer in Cal’s voice, his words snaking down my body like the rivulets of rain.
