Holy cow, but she hated him.
“Uhhhh….” There announcer clearly had no idea what to say, his stunned voice creating feedback as he hunting for words. “Jom falls to the human’s mighty blade. What an… unexpected turn of events.”
“I’m not a human.” Hope was getting sick of everyone saying that. She glanced over at Richter who was gaping down at Jom’s corpse. Obviously, he’d never visited the Fire Kingdom, because he looked transfixed by the sight. “Time out, okay?” She went back to looking for her inhaler.
He didn’t seem to hear her.
Poor guy. Back home, you got used to the occasional victim laying in the yard. None of them had been Hope’s victim before, but it wasn’t like Jom had been some innocent school teacher or something. He’d been trying to stab her… from behind! Where was the honor in that kind of attack? If he wasn’t dead, it would have been a good lesson for him about sportsmanship.
And where the heck was her inhaler? Her wheezing was getting worse. A telltale pins-and-needles sensation prickled her throat, signaling that her attack wasn’t going to abate without her medication.
Darn it.
“You can’t call fucking time out!” Kingu was back by the railing, apparently lured by Zakkery’s chortling. “Are you out of your mind?! Pick up a gods damn sword!”
Hope looked up at him and her tension level decreased. He hadn’t left! What a huge relief. She couldn’t lose him, now that she’d finally found him.
A loud buzzer sounded and the crowd let out an expectant cheer.
“Thaaaaat’s right folks!” The announcer sounded a little steadier, now. “Round two!”
One of the plastic gates opened and two more gladiators stepped out. These guys carried spears and what looked like nets. Tall golden boots reached their knees, Iliad looking helmets covered their heads and in between they wore what looked like togas. Stopping with choreographed precision, they reached down in unison to untie the gold tassels at their waists and drop the bed sheet get-ups to the ground. Underneath they sported diapers.
Honest to Gaia, they wore white fabric briefs that looked exactly like old fashion cloth diapers. Alder would have laughed his ass off if he’d seen them.
“Vessar, of the Gravity House and Ghames, of the Radiation House join the fray!” The announcer yelled. “Will they be the ones to stop the human’s rampage or will Richter have revenge for his fallen comrade?”
“I’m not a human!” Hope shouted up at the loudspeaker.
She was feeling more confident about this part of the fight. There was no way a Fire Phase was losing to two guys in Pampers. Especially since Jom had helped her find her lost sword. Prying it out of his body was going to be kind of gross, though, and she really needed her medication. Still, things were looking up. The announcer had listed five names at the beginning of the match, so only four more guys to stab and she could go talk to the monster.
Icky or not, she wrenched the sword from Jom’s body. It took most of her strength to pry it loose and it made a squishy, tearing sound that Hope preferred not to dwell on. Plus, the hilt was wet and sticky, Jom’s blood still warm on the grip. This was so her second worse day ever.
And it just kept sucking.
Vessar lunged at her, his spear aimed straight for her heart. Classic maneuver, poorly executed. He wasn’t seeing her as a threat, so he was playing to the crowd. The spear twirled in his hand so the razor sharp blade caught the light and he added a showboat flourish to his jump. Frankie would have had his ass in a sling if he pulled that crap on the training field.
Hope didn’t actually think about her response, it just kind of happened. Suddenly, she was back in courtyard of the Fire Palace, again. Dodging slow and easy sword swipes from Oberon, while Frankie counted off Hope’s footwork to the tune of Tin Pan Alley waltzes. For one heartbeat of time, countless hours of practice overrode her general awkwardness. Countless falls in the dirt. Countless sad head shakes from Frankie. Countless afternoons of trying not to cry at her own clumsiness.
All of it finally paid off.
Muscle memory took over, the ONE, two, three, ONE, two, three beats of After the Ball played in her head and Hope just moved the way she’d been taught.
One… She stepped left.
Two… She spun towards the attack.
Three… Her sword sliced up, straight into his exposed side.
It was so darn simple that Hope was frankly shocked when it worked. Vessar gave a roar of pain and surprise. Missing her entirely, he veered off course in midair. His huge body skidded along the sand, hitting the ground with a cloud of dust. He lay there, still alive, but bleeding badly.
The crowd was a bit faster in its response this time. They roared their approval at the bloodshed. Hope wasn’t moved by their abrupt show of support. At the moment, all she cared about was getting her breathing back to normal. She couldn’t fight properly handicapped like this. She needed her medicine.
Zakkery, meanwhile, was enjoying her winning streak on an unhealthy level. “Yes! Someone please tell me they’re gonna sell DVDs of this match, after it’s over.” He looked over Kingu who seemed reluctantly transfixed. “If you’re still holding out for someone better, I’ll fucking take this one.”
“Shut-up, Elemental.” Kingu shoved Zakkery aside and scowled down at Hope. “Well?” He finally snapped as Hope stood over Vessar’s bleeding form. “Take off his head. Don’t let him get back up.”
Maybe he was betting against the other gladiators, too, and gathering up a nice little nest egg today. Goodness only knew what the odds were on Hope winning with two decapitations. Too bad for him, she didn’t have it in her to behead a wounded man. Not even to win some extra cash for all her loyal fans. She stepped back from Vessar, her gaze instinctively staying on Kingu, already knowing he was going to be pissed.
More pissed.
“Woman, while he’s down, behead him!” Kingu’s voice got louder and more insistent, like he just couldn’t help himself. “You got lucky, now press the advantage!”
“Lucky?” He was the first person to ever say that.
The guy did have a small point, of course. Frankie wouldn’t have approved of her hesitation in finishing off Vessar, either. His favorite saying was, “Bleeding hearts lead to bleeding corpses.” He had a cheerful needlepoint of it on his wall at home, the boarder decorated with multicolored, cross-stitched skulls.
Still… “I can’t just behead an incapacitated man.” The words were breathless and ended with a ragged cough, but they were still filled with righteous indignation. She shook her head at the Kingu. “He dropped his spear. He’s unarmed. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Wouldn’t be right!?” Savage, flame colored eyes locked with hers. She could feel the frustration coming off of him in waves. “For Christ’s sake, you’re like a fucking Disney… Duck!”
Hope ducked. It was the familiar, comforting bellowing. Anyone raised in the Fire Kingdom would have responded to a tactical order delivered in that tone. Basic survival training kicked in, again. She dropped like a stone, the knees of her patterned tights shredding on the ground as she rolled out of range of Richter’s attack. He’d picked up Jom’s sword and he knew how to use it. Crap. Her entire outfit was ruined and…
…Oh, hey! Her inhaler!
She stopped her roll directly beside it. It must have fallen out of her pocket, after all. Hope grabbed it. She popped the plastic cap off with her thumb and stuck the inhaler into her mouth. Exhaling a quick breath, she puffed in a lungful of medication.
Almost instantly, she felt the tingling sensation in her throat that told her it was working.
Finally.
She lay there sucking in precious oxygen.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
Kingu was going to lose his voice if he kept yelling like that. Did he get this involved in all the matches? Lord! He had a box seat, so he must come to these things a lot. You’d think he’d be over the excitement, by now.
Her me
ntal grumblings came to a halt as Richter grabbed her by the shirt front and hefted her right off the ground, so her feet barely touched the sand. “What have you done!?” He screamed, right in her face. “You murdered Jom! You murdered my brother!”
“He was your brother?” Guilt swamped Hope. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry.” She would never want to kill anyone’s family. She knew what that felt like to lose someone you loved. Of course, Jom had been kind of a cheating jerk wielding a sword at her, so she didn’t feel too bad, but still… “Look, what happened was a total accident. Only –like-- fifty percent my fault. I didn’t intend…” Hope’s semi-apology was cut short when Richter gave her a ruthless shake.
“You murdered my brother and now I’m going to make you pay!” He drew back his sword with his free hand and aimed it at her neck. “This is for Jom, you worthless human whore.”
Another classic mistake. Talking too much when you thought you had the upper hand. Her guilt over stabbing his brother was lessening by the second.
“Fuck!” Kingu bellowed.
Hope maneuvered the inhaler around in her hand, switching her grip and raising it so the mouthpiece was pointed towards Richter’s face. “I’m not a human.”
Rule number ninety-six of being a Fire Phase: Anything can be a weapon if you improvise.
Jamming her thumb down on the top of the canister, she sprayed half the contents of inhaler straight into his corneas. She wasn’t sure what was in asthma medication, but it must have burned like crazy, because Richter dropped her like a red hot stove. His hands came up to claw at his eye sockets. He let out an unnatural howl of agony, his body doubling over.
Hope hit the ground and immediately scurried backwards away from him. Somehow she’d lost her sword, again. Probably when she ducked and rolled.
“Woman, do I have to tie that weapon to you!?” Kingu demanded. “It’s on the ground, four feet to your left. They can see it from space!”
“You lose me money and I’m gonna be pissed, kid.” Zakkery called at the same time.
Those two were going to be the next ones she’d killed. They were like old guys on The Muppet Show.
Richter wasn’t giving up on stabbing her, either. He blindly swung his sword around, trying to hack at her. Meanwhile, Ghames was still in the fight. He came rushing towards her with his two working eyes. His stupid looking sparkly sandal kicked her sword, pushing it further out of her reach as he drew closer.
The blade skidded across the sand and ricocheted off Richter’s foot. He must have thought it was Hope, still on the ground, launching a counterattack, because he let out a roar and threw himself in the direction that the sword had come from.
…Which happened to be right at Ghames.
Richter brandished his weapon like a hatchet. He struck out with a violent, un-aimed assault that caught Ghames right in the heart. Ghames turned with an anguish roar and seemed to automatically strike back against his new enemy. His spear slammed straight into Richter’s eye.
The two of them were kind of locked together for several strained seconds and then they just… wilted.
Hope blinked in astonishment as the two men toppled over in unison. Like big, dead trees, they hit the ground so hard it shook. Then, they just lay there, not moving.
They’d killed each other.
Well… okay.
That would work.
Hope slowly got to her feet, edging closer to the bodies to make sure they were both really dead. Neither one of them was breathing, but their deaths were so bizarre that she expected somebody to call for a rematch. Not even Frankie was going to believe how much she rocked at gladiating. Hopefully someone really was recording the fight, just so she could show her family that she wasn’t completely helpless, after all.
She’d taken out four armed gladiators, today.
She really was a Fire Phase.
The crowd went insane. Screaming, stomping their feet, chanting her name. Or, at least, “Hu-man! Hu-man! Hu-man!” For once, she didn’t mind the word.
Hope raised an arm in victory.
Zakkery’s mouth hung open. “How the hell did that just happened?” He asked the world at large.
On instinct, Hope turned and looked at Kingu. Eyes, as mysterious as fire, locked onto hers and she felt that odd sense of connection. The brutal, almost demonic lines of his face held her rapt attention. She and this man were connected. The separate threads of their lives had crossed, knotting them together. Kingu sensed it, too. His fingers were white around the balcony railing, his breathing sawing in and out of his chest.
He already knew that he belonged to her.
The buzzer rang and the door to the final cage swung open.
The last gladiator.
Hope spun around to face him as the crowd grew still. Not even the announcer made another appearance. Everyone’s attention centered on Lycus, of the Metal House as he stalked out of the cell and headed straight for her.
He was really, really big. With really big arms and really big hands, holding a really big sword. Instead of the caveman porno movie loincloths or diapers, he had on tattered military style pants and combat boots. His chest was bare. And big. Really big. His gold hair was military short, his steel colored eyes focused like a laser scope on her neck.
Hope took an instinctive step backwards.
She still didn’t have her sword, but it seemed pointless to dash over and grab it. In a straight fight, Lycus was going to win. He was a professional killer. That part didn’t bother her, since her family was full of warriors and she did okay. Heck, she’d just faced down four gladiators and won. But, this man had a ruthlessness that none of the other men had possessed. He could decapitate her without a moment’s hesitation.
She knew it.
So did he.
So did everyone else.
Hope had about thirty second to live.
****
The woman had about thirty seconds to live.
She’d been doing well up until this point. Astonishingly well. Kingu hadn’t had to get involved, at all. He’d wanted to, for some reason. But, he’d kept himself in check, watching as she took out opponent after opponent, getting more and more turned on by her bewitching combination of luck and skill.
Had he included “fighting ability” on the list of feminine attributes he’d given Zakkery? It needed to get added, because this was arousing to watch. Incredibly arousing. His developing powers all but purred in satisfaction.
Now the girl was facing Lycus, though.
The man only needed one more victory and he’d earn his freedom from the ring. That teeny, unarmed blonde was now the only thing standing between a trained killer and the rest of his life. More than anyone, Kingu understood how determined Lycus was to win. How focused he was on getting free of his servitude. Nothing would stop him from escaping his captivity.
Every muscle in Kingu’s body tightened, preparing to intercede as Lycus stopped in front of the woman. Lycus didn’t try to decapitate her, though. At least, not yet. For the moment, he seemed as baffled by the woman as Kingu was. She had that effect on people, apparently. The gladiator frowned like he couldn’t understand why he was expected to slay a citizen of Munchkinland.
Meanwhile, the girl blinked up at the desperate man sent to kill her and honest-to-gods gave him small wave hello.
Kingu heard the rushing sound of blood in his ears, a muted roar of frustration and total disbelief. The woman had to be deliberately setting out to torture him. He tried to make himself leave. Tried to stop this crazed emotion swirling inside of him that wouldn’t let him just watch her die. For no logical reason, at all, his powers were screaming that he had to help this girl survive. Screaming that she belonged to him and he had to protected her above all else.
Damn it.
“Woman, concentrate! Stop talking to that son-of-a-bitch and pick-up your sword.”
She ignored him.
Kingu needed to just walk away. There was no point in trying to keep someone aliv
e when she was so determined commit suicide. If she wasn’t even going to try and defend herself, he certainly wasn’t going to waste his precious time saving her.
She was just a Phase.
If he let her die, he wouldn’t have to worry about that midnight blue gaze somehow stealing his freewill. He could select a different woman. No matter what his powers were insisting, it didn’t have to be this oddly colorful creature who seemed specifically designed to disrupt everything he was trying to build.
She was so dangerous.
…And so fucking pretty.
Zakkery glanced at Kingu, seeing his faltering resolve, and decided to push him right over the edge. “Her name is Hope.”
Kingu’s head snapped around to stare at him.
Zakkery slowly nodded. “She’s Hope.” For once he sounded dead serious. “She’s the one you’ve been looking for.”
Kingu closed his eyes in defeat.
He believed in fate the same way he believed in the higher deities. He knew they existed, but he’d never considered that he might play a part in their plans. Kingu was beyond the scope of morals and laws. It was the perk of not having a soul. He lived outside the natural order. Divine providence didn’t play a part in his world, because he never should have been created, at all. And yet, he knew that Zakkery was right.
This woman was the closest he’d ever come to finding his destiny.
She was his one.
“Hope.” He whispered and knew he was lost.
Chapter Five
The only things which do not bother me are the elements. I can overcome
them without a fight. All one has to do to get the best of the elements is to stand
pat and one will win.
William Howard Taft
Hope swallowed hard as Lycus, of the Metal House stalked towards her across the sand. This was not going to go well. “Um, listen. If you could just give me a second here? I’m kind of… um…” She trailed off, unable to take her eyes off the razor sharp point of his sword. “You don’t have red frog juice on that, right?”
Treasure of the Fire Kingdom (The Elemental Phases Book 4) Page 8
