by Justin Sloan
“Very good,” Valerie said, backing up for another fighting stance. “You know, you don’t have to stay here. There’re ways to make a living without being wrapped up in this.”
“Says the woman fighting for a few coins?”
“Says the woman who can get you out of here, if you’re interested.” Valerie debated saying more, but then added. “I’ve got big plans.”
Cheryl looked contemplative for a second, but it receded in favor of an annoyed narrowing of her eyes. The smile returned just as fast as it had come, and she said, “If it were so simple, you bet.”
“Isn’t it though? Just tell me you’re in, and I’ll see you out of here safely.”
She was saying too damned much, but there was something about this girl that she liked. Regardless, the conversation ended there because that’s when the doors opened and the tall man from earlier gestured for her. Cheering filled the room, drowning out any other noise.
Valerie was being ushered forth, only able to manage a quick glance back to mouth “Be careful,” and then she was on the stairs, descending down into the pit, faces in the crowd shouting for her to obliterate them and worse.
She reached the floor of the arena, and stood tall. She felt exposed, nearly bursting forth from her leather outfit, but she also felt strong and proud.
Clive stepped out and stood just in front of his seat, and held up both hands for silence.
When the room quieted he said, “A three-way fight, to truly test our new hero,” he said, and then gestured to one of the doors nearby. Out came the man she had seen earlier, the one who had been following and who Owen had warned her about. Strangely, he was wearing her coat.
He walked like a bulldog about to lock its jaws around her neck, and when he was close enough, he leaned over with a nasty smile and said, “Found my coat.” The cheers were too loud for the others to hear them, but they weren’t so loud that she couldn’t hear this man.
She glanced up at Owen, sitting not far off from Clive, and he shrugged at the turn of events.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Valerie said.
He pulled off the coat and set it aside, then turned back to her. “Didn’t happen to find it outside, then?”
She gulped, realizing that, if this was his jacket, and what Owen had said about this man and how he treated women… Oh! The poor woman he’d been with earlier!
“I’m not going to make it easy on you,” she said, eyes flashing red so fast that she doubted anyone had noticed.
“Good, that’ll make it more fun.” He glanced past her and up the stairs, smiling. “Oh goody, two of you.”
Valerie spun to see Cheryl walking down the stairs. “Oh no, that’s just—”
“Cheryl the Nightingale,” Clive announced, and Valerie felt her color drain.
“Wait, what?” Valerie stormed over to her to ask what this was about.
Cheryl just shrugged and said, “As I said, I had to find a way to make it, to survive. This is it.”
“But back there...” Valerie wanted to hit herself for being so trusting in a place like this.
“I’d still love it if you took me out of here,” Cheryl admitted. “It’s just going to be hard, considering our predicament.”
“You two girls ready, or need to use the potty together first?” the guy said. Up close and without the coat, she saw how tough this guy really looked. His muscles were jacked up in the way that only someone using some sort of supplement could look.
“Shut your hole, Trent,” Cheryl said, and then took a fighting stance.
Valerie was still pissed at this seemingly innocent girl being one of the two to fight her, when she sensed Trent charging from behind. The crowd roared, and Valerie spun out of the way, landing a mule-kick on his rear that sent him sprawling.
Next came Cheryl, and it was clear she'd been holding back in the room before. She moved quick, coming at Valerie with a barrage of punches and kicks that seemed to only be possible if she was a vampire or Were, but Valerie sensed neither from her.
Each strike met Valerie's blocks, but when she spun out of the way of a roundhouse kick to the head, still debating whether she should just drop these two and be done with it, she saw Trent catch Cheryl with a punch to the jaw.
Cheryl collapsed to her knees, then barely brought her forearms up in time to block a knee to her face. She grabbed him by the balls with one hand, behind the knee with the other, and took him to the ground as he howled in pain.
So they were attacking each other too, huh? Valerie circled, watching as the man tried to elbow Cheryl on the top of the head but she took it in the shoulder in order to get close enough to land two elbows on his left eye, drawing blood and causing it to swell instantly.
Damn. This girl could be valuable if she was on the right side.
Cheryl rolled off of him and came at Valerie, like a little wolverine clawing and biting, but now Valerie had decided her move here. She backed up with each attack, simply swiping them aside, catching Cheryl off guard when the girl expected the follow-up punch to come that Valerie had shown her into the other room.
Trent was back up now too, and he tried to catch Valerie off-guard, but she simply rolled out of the way and the other two collided again in a series of punches, kicks, and elbows that left them both staggering back.
This was kind of fun, actually, Valerie thought with a smile. The crowd was oscillating between cheers when a strike would connect, and laughter when Valerie would dodge out of the way.
"Kill them!" someone shouted, and Valerie glanced back to frown at said person, Past the crowd, the back doors were open and several people came streaming in, looking pissed. The worst part was that one of them was pointing at her and shouting. More followed them, until there were at least twenty. They started pushing their way toward her.
One sniff and she confirmed what she’d suspected—Forsaken. Likely the nude vampire had found clothes and his friends, and now here they were, out for blood.
Her blood.
A strike hit her upside the head and she stumbled slightly, having gotten distracted and not paid attention to the fight at hand. She turned to see Trent’s fist inches from her face, so she grabbed it and twisted, snapping the wrist with a sickening CRUNCH!
Trent gasped in pain, and right then she recalled what Owen had told her about this man, and what he did to women. The thrill of the fight was gone, this was about justice. So, as Cheryl moved in for the attack on one side and the Forsaken approached from the other, Valerie made a decision.
It was time to end this.
She kicked Trent in the stomach, doubling him over, and then came down hard on the back of his head with a downward elbow. He fell to the ground, limp and lifeless.
The crowd gasped, and even her attackers paused. A look of fear passed through Cheryl’s eyes, and she took a step back.
“Everyone back to your sex and drugs,” one of the Forsaken shouted as he leaped over the small barrier and into the arena. “You’re not going to want to see this.”
Nobody moved.
The Forsaken stood a good two feet taller than Valerie, his hair slicked back and fierce tattoos along his neck. More were joining him now, encircling Valerie. While the crowd didn’t run from the place, they certainly scrambled to move farther back and away from the certain bloodshed.
“Here you are then,” the tall Forsaken said. “The one they call Valerie, invader of this land.”
There was a murmur from the crowd as they all realized who she was, her cover blown. A glance up to Clive showed he wasn’t happy with this revelation.
“The CEOs sent you?” she asked.
He just smiled. “What does my answer matter, when you’re dead?”
With a flick of his wrist, four Forsaken charged. She took a step back, not worried in the slightest until she saw the flash of silver.
One of the Forsaken had drawn two blades, and then she saw another do the same. Small knifes with serrated edges on one side, t
he entire blade lined in silver. She would’ve loved to have her sword here right now to show them what a real knife looked like, but she would have to make do.
She was faster than them, but with four attacking from all angles, and another moving in from the circle, she realized this was possibly the deadliest predicament she’d ever found herself in.
With a shout of frustration, she pushed fear out into them, and they faltered. But even with hands shaking and eyes full of fright, they came at her. These sons of bitches had been trained, and trained by the best.
Not only was she certain the CEOs were funding them to obtain these weapons, but she had a feeling that Donovan’s own had a hand in the training. Why they were here, she would’ve loved to know.
Regardless, she intended to live long enough to ask questions and ensure she got her answers.
Her plan with Clive was ruined, her hopes of helping Cheryl dashed against the rocks of the girl’s own stupidity. With this group of silver-wielding, trained Forsaken, she could stay and try to fight and maybe win… Or she could run like hell and come back for a battle the likes of which this city had never seen.
Mind made up, she charged the tall one, pushing extra hard on the fear and letting her eyes glow red and fangs emerge to get the full effect. Those that could see her screamed and ran, and the Forsaken in her path made attempts to strike, but she was fast enough to block one, disarm the next, and take the third’s weapon to use against the tall one.
When she reached him, his eyes were glowing red too and he pulled out a pistol to shoot her. His shots rang out, taking down his own Forsaken as she dodged around them, and then she slashed at him with the blade—not a killing blow, but one designed to force him to step out of the way.
Her path was clear, and she ran. Everything about running like this pulled against her nature, but now she knew her enemy, she knew where to strike. She just needed her friends and her sword to make the killing blow.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Enforcer HQ
Royland had just attempted to stand. The skin on his back was not pulling like it had been before. There was searing pain, sure, but he didn’t mind a little pain. It was lying in bed and missing all the action that he hated.
“Ready to get back out there, are you?” Ella asked, sitting up in her bed and glaring at him. Her leg was wrapped up in bandages soaked in red. Not the best medical care ever, but the best anywhere around here.
He sat up, cringing, and then let out a low groan before turning to look at her. “Why are you here?”
“It’s not by choice, I assure you.”
“No, I mean… you’re so against my kind, why are you sitting there, when you could be trying to find some way of killing me and then fleeing this place?”
She starred for a moment, shrugged and looked away.
“Having second thoughts?” he asked.
“Me? Never.” She adjusted, trying to escape the discomfort. “But I can not want your kind ruling me and walking around unchecked, and still not want to see you dead.”
“You’re going to have to see a lot of us dead if you want to keep us behind bars, or under house arrest, or… What exactly do you propose?”
She breathed out deep and stared at the ground. “I thought I knew, but honestly… I’m not totally sure anymore.”
“I see.” He threw his legs over the bed and attempted to push himself up again, glad to feel he could almost move. “Well, just remember that this city will be safe soon, and when that day comes, it will be because of people like me.”
“You mean vampires.”
“I mean people, as I said. Genetically modified? Yes, but people. Valerie has taught me that.”
Ella scoffed, but she didn’t look totally dismissive, at least.
A shout came from down the hall, and then the door slid open and Cammie entered, shouting at two Weres behind her, “I can walk my damn self!”
“Ma’am, we need to get you checked, there could be—”
“I know, dammit! But quit pampering me like a baby and just get the damn bullet out!”
Royland was up in a minute, eyes drawn to her right side, where she held a balled up shirt someone must have given her. It was drenched with blood. “You were shot?”
She smiled and cocked her head to the side. “How kind of you to notice.”
“Come on,” he said, ignoring the harshness in her voice. He guided her to the bed next to his, and sat her down. Taking a medical kit from the nearby table, he knelt before her, barely cringing from his own pain as he leaned in to have a look at her wound. She moved the wadded-up shirt and revealed that the skin was actually healing over the wound already.
“We have to get the bullet out,” he said, looking at her to see if she’d bite his head off. “I’m going to open up the skin.”
Cammie grunted, “Just get it over with already.”
“Hang in there.” He first took a sterile blade and cut the wound, doing his best to ignore her growl of pain. Next he went to work on the bullet. She cringed with the shock from time to time, and there was a trickle of blood coming down her chin from biting her lip.
“Where were your guards?” he said, trying to distract her.
“Guards?” she hissed out.
“We’re not her guards,” Esmeralda answered, appearing at the doorway. Presley followed behind her and leaned against the doorway.
“Didn’t I tell you to find Duran and report in?” Cammie said with an angry glance over her shoulder. “The city can’t afford to have all three of us back here.”
“Duran thought it best,” Presley said. “Wanted us to get some rest, so we can go in shifts and not all get burned out at once. Said he was following a lead and would get back to us if they needed extra muscle.”
“You think you’re going anywhere anytime soon?” Royland asked Cammie, and then placed the bullet aside as he looked around for the material to give her a couple of stitches.
Seeing what he was doing, she said, “No need, it’ll be healed up soon. Wasn’t much but a little bullet to begin with.”
He nodded. “Of course. Obviously.” Pushing himself up and cringing slightly at his pain, he sat beside her. A glance at Ella showed she’d turned away, not caring to talk with the two or even be there at all.
Cammie nodded her way with a raised eyebrow.
He shrugged, then whispered, “This city’s going to need a major overhaul. It’ll get there, I’m confident in that, but I’m strangely confident the path forward will be bumpy.”
A weird look went over Cammie’s face and she glanced down at her wound. It was already scabbing over, and soon would be as good as new.
“You think we can make this work?” she asked him. “I mean, the vampires and Weres, working together?”
He nodded, slowly, considering. “It’s the people we have to worry about. When they find out what we are, will they all react like her,” he gestured at Ella, “or can we help them understand?”
“They won’t find out.”
“I wish I had your faith in that.” He stood, went back to the side of his bed, and took another swig of blood from a vial. “In the meantime, all we can do is wait, continue the fight, and hope for the best.”
She leaned back, glanced over at Esmerelda and Presley, and smiled. “There’s more we can do than wait and hope,” she said, then turned to the two ladies. “We’re supposed to be recuperating, taking a shift, right? That’s what he wanted?”
Presley nodded, not catching on, but Esmerelda smiled.
“We had a custom,” Cammie said, standing and walking over to Royland. “Back in the Golden City, when a Were found him or herself lonely, unsure.”
He sat the vial down and looked between the ladies. “Yes?”
“Think of this as simply comfort, may it bring you strength to rise above your enemies,” she said as she approached him and put one hand on his chest, the other moving across his belt line.
He gulped, and was about to say somethi
ng when he felt more hands on his shoulders, careful to avoid his healing but still injured back. Then Presley walked up to Cammie’s side, and the two paused to look at each other, seductively, and then back to him.
“I’m not exactly sure what’s happening here,” he said. “But something tells me I like it. Only…” He looked back to Ella, who had turned away and, he guessed, was pretending to sleep.
“Come on then,” Cammie said, and she took him by the hand and led him out of there, Esmeralda smiling mischievously and Presley biting her lip.
At the door he paused, looking around for his shirt. “Are you sure about this?”
Cammie laughed. “Don’t be all prudish about it. Just… take your recuperation as it should be. A time to rest and come back ready for vengeance.”
He shook his head, totally confused by the way of Weres, but not about to turn this down for a second. They reached the elevators, and had just pressed the up button when the stairs’ door burst open.
It was Valerie. She wore an outfit Royland never would have imagined her in—or at least, if he had it would’ve been very inappropriate. Leather hugged her body in ways that showed off all the right curves, and her normal well-kept hair was in total disarray, like she’d just stood outside during a tornado.
“Come,” she said, “it’s time.”
He glanced over, wondering if Cammie was going to be annoyed at the way he’d been looking at Valerie just then, but Cammie was too busy checking out the new outfit to care, and didn’t seem like the jealous type at any rate.
“What happened to you?” Cammie said. “And I mean that in the most flattering way possible. Like, seriously, damn. If I had your body and could fit into an outfit like that….”
“Let’s focus, shall we?” Valerie was dead serious, though she allowed a half-smile and said, “But yeah, thank you. And Royland, tongue back in mouth please.”
He started to protest, but the ladies just laughed. “Honestly, I’m appreciating fine art is all, it wasn’t any different than Cammie here looking.”
