by K. R. Willis
Thanks, like I needed that thought in my head.
George sniffed again, and unless my eyes had suddenly decided not to work anymore, his shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit. Hope blossomed in my chest; maybe I could get through to him.
Just as I was about to try talking to him again, some idiot in the stands yelled “Kill her!”
The crowd exploded.
George tensed, and all the hairs on his body quivered. He let out a deep guttural growl, and I knew that was it. The wolf may not have understood the words, but he seemed to understand their meaning just fine.
Dammit! If I found out who the idiot in the stands was, there’d be no place for him to hide.
“George, don’t do this. I’m your friend. I’m here to help you,” I pleaded one last time as I shifted my weight backward.
But it was no use. He growled again, and then lunged, claws fully extended.
With my weight already shifted back, I just managed to escape being torn in two, but judging by the murderous look in his eyes, that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. He was way bigger than I was, and armed with razor-sharp claws, while I had none. Damn, I shouldn’t have tossed the sword. Where was Arnaud when I needed him?
In the club, thinking you’re handling this, I scolded myself.
I’ve got an idea. Duck! Rya warned.
Without question, I hit the ground, and winced as my arms scraped in the sand. I glanced up just in time to see Rya leap over my head fully visible now, and land on George’s massive chest. She snarled and snapped her teeth at him as she rode him to the ground, her 150 pounds enough to throw him off balance and take him down.
George snapped and growled in return as he hit the floor, but Rya let out one of the loudest, most primal challenging screams I’d ever heard and he froze. I jerked back and covered my ears, as did everyone else in the stands. The place was suddenly so quiet you could have heard ants crawling.
When I finally looked back up, Rya stood on George’s chest growling. He growled back, but it was a softer growl, without the menace it had contained mere moments ago.
What are you doing to him? I asked her.
He recognizes me as a fellow apex predator, she said. I wouldn’t pose much of a threat to him if his pack was with him, but alone and injured he wouldn’t stand much of a chance. He’s not happy about it, but he’s letting me be the Alpha. I’m not sure how long it will last, so try getting through to George again.
I didn’t dare move for fear of setting him off again, so I remained crouched low and said, “George, it’s me, Keira. You’ve always been kind to me and Sally at the Blu Moon. Do you remember?”
Come on, George, say you remember.
He stopped growling at Rya and turned his fur-covered head toward me. His amber eyes glared at me before something flickered in their depths. Recognition.
“Keira?” he grumbled. It sounded somewhere between a growl and a snarl.
Relief struck me and my shoulders sagged, but there was no time to celebrate. We’d already taken too much time. The iron gates on each end groaned as they opened, and more guards poured into the arena. Their armor clanged, and the lights reflected off the metal in a blinding kaleidoscope. Within seconds, we found ourselves surrounded.
Chapter 9
“Let me up,” George growled. His voice still wasn’t his own, but it sounded more like the George I knew. Rya must have heard the difference, too, because she hopped off his chest and let him get to his feet. “Go!” he nearly howled, “I’ll cover your escape.”
“No, I’m not leaving here without you.” I turned in a slow circle and surveyed the arena, looking for a way out of this mess. There had to be more than two ways in or out. There just had to be. Surely they wouldn’t want to have to go through those big gates every time they came in to clean up or bring in new weapons.
I’d spun about halfway around when I saw it. A small, barely noticeable service door marred the wall near one of the weapons racks about thirty yards away. If we could just reach that, we could get out of here.
“George, the service door. Behind you,” I urged. My words disappeared as the crowd roared, but I knew he heard me.
“Bring them to me!” Izabella commanded from the balcony. I glanced up and met her stormy black eyes. She was pissed.
Add her to my list of enemies.
There was nothing I could do about her right now so I jerked my eyes away, concentrating on the here and now, and getting us out of this mess.
George snarled at two guards when they got a little too close, then spun and raced for the door with Rya and me. The guards obviously hadn’t heard me because they stood frozen, shocked, for enough seconds we had a pretty good head start. By the time they realized what our plan was, the three of us had reached the door.
George grabbed the handle with his clawed hand and yanked it open so hard he nearly ripped it off its well-oiled hinges. Rya and I dove through, quickly followed by George. The metal made a horrible screeching sound as he twisted it around on itself until it was so mangled there would be no way they could open it from the other side.
“That’ll hold them for a while, but we have to get out of here. Do either of you know which way to go?” I didn’t know if Rya had gone down this particular path in her search for George, and I highly doubted if he’d been here as a prisoner, but it never hurt to ask.
They both answered “No” at the same time, squashing any hope I had of a quick escape route. Okay, fine, we’d just have to search for a way out. Between the three of us, it shouldn’t be that hard. I hoped.
We took off down the short hallway, only about forty yards long, with George in the lead. His heavy lumbering strides thumped on the sand-covered, wood-planked floor. We reached the end of the corridor and slowed to a halt. George peeked around the corner and motioned me forward. I leaned around the wall, ignoring the tickling sensation his fur caused on my exposed shoulder, and saw the three guards. One of them stood facing our direction so that as soon as one of us stepped around the wall, he’d see us. The other two faced away.
Rya, you take out the one facing this direction, then George and I will grab the other two. With any luck, we’d catch them before they were able to alert anyone else. To George I said, “Rya is going after that one.” I pointed to make sure we were on the same page.
“Then you and I will grab the others,” he rumbled. He smiled, all teeth, and I couldn’t help the shiver that raced down my spine.
This is George, I reminded myself. Just a hairier, scarier version. With extremely long teeth and claws.
Are you ready? Rya asked, pulling me away from that line of thinking. I sucked in a breath, prayed to the Great Spirit we didn’t get killed, and then nodded. She disappeared, and a second later I felt her brush past me as she headed for her target. My heart rate ratcheted up a few notches as George’s amber eyes pierced mine. He tipped his head in the barest of nods. Here we go.
We rounded the corner just as Rya’s guard opened his mouth to raise the alarm, but no sound came out. Rya took him to the ground, silent as the predator she was. George split off and took the guard to the left, and I struck the one on the right before he knew what happened. He hit the ground, but instead of falling flat on his stomach and giving me the upper hand where I could easily knock him unconscious, he tucked and rolled and came to his feet far faster than I anticipated.
He spun to face me, and a quick intake of breath so deep my lungs hurt was the only thing that kept me from getting gutted by the sword he thrust at me. Damn, underestimating these guys would get me killed if this kept up. I needed to be way more careful.
My guard took another stab at me, but this time I anticipated the move. When he shifted his weight to his right foot and thrust with his right arm, I arced myself to the side just shy of getting sliced open, grabbed the sword with my hands, and twisted. Surprised, he lost his grip and couldn’t hold on to it. I let the momentum of the twist carry me around until I stretched my arms out and the t
ip of the sword bit into his neck. He froze, and so did I. I didn’t want to kill him, but I would if I had to in order to protect me and mine.
Maybe I could strike a bargain with him. The fact that he wasn’t struggling with me or trying to take the sword away proved he wasn’t willing to risk being skewered. I stole a quick glance and confirmed what the sudden silence had already told me. George and Rya, who was visible again, had both taken out their guards. With the tip of the sword, I pushed and he instinctively looked away, right at his two buddies lying bloodied and broken on the ground a couple of feet away.
“Show us the way out, and I won’t let them tear into you the way they did your friends.”
George stepped closer and half-growled, half-snorted. His breath puffed hard enough to make the guard’s blond hair that hung past his helmet flutter.
The guard’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down once, and a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. Fear showed in his deep blue eyes, and my stomach roiled. What the hell was I doing? Had I really fallen so far that I now resorted to fear tactics and torture? Was this who I was now?
No, I couldn’t let myself think like that. I only killed in self-defense to protect my family and friends. I didn’t kill for sport or fun like these guys did. The thought of George and countless others being forced to fight to the death for profit replaced my uncertainty with anger. I leaned on the sword, making the tip bite into his neck a little more.
“Do you agree?” I pressed him. We had to hurry. Other guards, or even the ones we’d left in the arena, would be here any minute. The thought suddenly had my skin crawling and I fought the urge to rub my arms.
He nodded vigorously and winced when the motion caused the tip to break skin. A tiny trickle of blood oozed out and ran down his neck. I eased the sword away, and motioned him to lead the way. He rubbed the spot on his neck where I’d nicked him, but didn’t say anything; he just turned and headed across the room toward another corridor. We followed with George once again in the lead right behind the guard.
We hurried through the corridor. The flames from the sconces on the walls flickered as we passed, casting eerie shadows on the wooden floors, adding to the tension that already thrummed through my every cell. Sweat beaded on my brow and I blinked rapidly as a salty drop found its way into my eye. I rubbed it with the back of my hand, but it still burned. Nothing to do about it until we got out of here and I could wash it with water. If we got out of here.
We rounded a bend in the corridor, and George snapped his clawed hand out, stopping the guard so fast I nearly plowed into him. I caught myself and then started to ask him why, but stopped when he placed a claw from his other hand to his snout, and dug the claws he’d grabbed the guard with deeper into his flesh. The guard winced and gritted his teeth, but kept quiet. A second later three more guards walked past us on the other side of the wall, their booted feet scraping roughly on the floors.
After waiting another heartbeat for the coast to clear, George nodded for us to continue. The guard shrugged out of his grip and gave him a nasty glare before he started forward again. His fear from earlier was quickly fading with his anger, and I wondered how much further we had to go before we were out of here. I didn’t know how much longer his fear of being killed would keep him moving us toward the exit, rather than leading us into a trap.
A door to our right opened up into a small, empty room that I quickly closed behind us. Every inch of wall space had been filled with weapons hung from wall racks that spanned from the floor to about a foot from the ceiling. My foot scraped against bare wood and I realized no sand covered the floor in here. Probably so the course sand granules wouldn’t dull or degrade the blades.
This must be one of the armories where they brought in the weapons for the fighters to use. I tensed, wondering if this was the trap I’d thought of a few moments ago, but the guard walked across the room, past all of them, and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. He fingered a gold-plated key, then slid it into the lock of another door that had been partially hidden behind a tapestry.
Something feels off, Rya said quickly. He no longer stinks of fear, but of anger.
“Wait,” I told him, thinking of my assessment earlier. “Where does this lead?”
George growled and stepped closer to the guard.
“It opens into one of the club’s storage rooms,” he said. “We use it to bring confiscated weapons from the club to this side for use in the fights. See for yourself.” He motioned me forward, and stepped back from the door he’d unlocked and cracked open.
I made a move toward the door, but Rya blocked me with her body. Let me go, she offered. If it’s a trick, I can look and come back without anyone seeing me.
Are you sure? I asked her. You must be getting tired from all the magic you’ve done tonight.
I’ll need lots of rest when this is done, but I can do this if it prevents us from running straight into a trap.
I nodded. All right. Just be careful. My skin tingled as she disappeared, then a second later the door pushed open enough for her to squeeze through. The guard watched Rya’s disappearing act with a sort of disgusted fascination, and I wondered if he was here because he hated everything that wasn’t human. The faster we got out of here and away from him the better. He was starting to make me uneasy. In more ways than one.
A heartbeat later, Rya dropped her magic and reappeared just inside the door. It appears to be exactly what he said. There are boxes of booze and miscellaneous, and I can hear sounds coming from the club on the other side of the wall.
Great job, Rya. To George I said, “Rya confirms what he says. We need to hurry—there’s no telling how long we have before they find us.” I wasn’t naive enough to think they wouldn’t come after us in the club, but at least we stood a chance of losing them in the crowd, and Arnaud was there somewhere, waiting. That would put us four against however many they had left. The odds weren’t great in our favor, but each of us could fight, and I could probably make a weapon out of a barstool if I needed to.
Rya backed through the door into the storage room, giving us space to follow her. George growled and snapped his large teeth until the guard plastered himself to the wall right next to a weapons rack, then leaned against him, trapping him against the wall. The man turned his head away from the angry werewolf bearing down on him, and closed his eyes. George sniffed his neck and licked his snout.
“George,” I said, barely above a whisper. “He held up his end of the bargain. Let him go.” My voice quivered the tiniest bit, but I held my ground. If he chose to attack the guard, there would be nothing I could do, but I had to at least try. The man had done his part; I really wanted to keep my word.
George glanced at me over his shoulder and snarled, his teeth suddenly seeming even bigger than they had been a few minutes ago. My stomach heaved as I thought I was about to witness him kill in cold blood, but instead of tearing into the young man, he pushed away from the wall and turned to follow Rya. I blew out the breath I’d been holding. If George didn’t fully come back soon, I didn’t know what we’d do with him. His wolf scared the shit out of me.
But apparently, I was the only one.
As soon as George turned his back on the guard, he came to life. A dagger the length of my forearm suddenly appeared in his right hand where he’d had it resting on the wall by the rack. He spun, shifted his weight, and put a lot of force into the uppercut he aimed at George’s back.
I yelled a warning at George and forced my body toward the guard in an attempt to intercept him, but I didn’t move fast enough. George roared in pain as the dagger slid home and blood instantly bloomed on his blond, fur-covered back. He dropped like someone had shot him between the eyes, and an instant later, I realized why.
The dagger was made of silver.
Chapter 10
The guard hit the ground under my weight as I tackled him and the air whooshed from his lungs. The sound of my dress ripping somewhere echoed in my ears, but I didn’t look awa
y from the guard. My eyes watered when he grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked, and I cursed my long locks. My heritage gave me a love of long hair, but at times like these, I hated it and wished for a pixie cut. Less for my enemies to grab hold of.
He coughed and struggled in earnest when I shifted my body, placing my left knee on his larynx. I shifted my weight so that the majority of it balanced on his tender windpipe. Instinctively, he bucked and hit me, trying to knock me off, but my grip held fast. Within seconds, his flailing quieted, and then disappeared altogether. When he went completely limp from passing out, I leapt off him and headed for George.
George lay sprawled in a bloody heap inside the storage room, a puddle of crimson spreading frighteningly fast around him. “Talk to me, George,” I said as I carefully rolled him onto his side. He grunted and bared his teeth at me, but said nothing.
Rya was beside me in an instant. What happened? she asked. Why isn’t he healing?
I pulled the blade from George’s chest, and flinched when he hissed at me. After making sure he wasn’t about to attack me for causing him more pain, I checked the dagger and confirmed what I already thought. Silver. George’s werewolf DNA wouldn’t be able to heal the wound on its own. He needed help.
It’s silver, I told her. I need you to find Arnaud and get him in here, fast. I rose and hurried to open the storage room door enough for her to squeeze out, and realized we were in the hallway across from the restrooms. I peeked through the opening and glanced both ways, making sure no one was in sight, then moved so she could get past. Be careful. They’ll be looking for us.
She nodded and raced out the door. I walked back over and pushed the door shut between the two rooms and locked it so we wouldn’t have any unwanted visitors, then knelt beside George. The wound looked smaller than it had a few minutes ago and the blood flow had slowed, but it continued to trickle down his chest at an alarming rate. Blue- and green-colored skin had already replaced what should have been pink, and that terrified me. His body felt fevered and shook as I placed my hands on him in a show of comfort.
