by Hayley Todd
I smiled at him anyway and finished off my coffee, placing the cup on the table. “I better go,” I said, cursing myself for being too cowardly to just ask him to come with me.
He let me get to the kitchen door before he stood. “Do you want me to come with you?” He asked after moments of silence.
I turned to see him leaned over the table, watching me carefully with stiff eyes. I nodded and I knew it was jerky but I couldn't force it to be smooth. He was beside me in an instant, drawing my hand into his and walking nervously with me to the tournament ahead.
The arena was already packed with people when we arrived. We were led to the front rows, where each bench was occupied by a different team. We slid into the seat alongside other Magicks. Damien was speaking with Lady Evelyn at the other end of the bench but held a finger up and turned to us. He traded glances with Anton before shaking his hand and turning to me.
“How are you doing?” He asked.
I looked around the room with its dizzying activity and replied, “I'm okay.”
He traded another glance with Anton who's eyes flicked to me. He nodded. My father echoed the gesture.
“They rest of the fighting has already taken place. Each Champion had to fight a member of the opposing clans to pass their entry into the tournament. Due to the quick nature of this tournament, however, it forces you to perform your rites here.”
My body went rigid, my gaze flickering up into the roaring crowd again. “I have to fight someone from each clan?” The idea finally made this real. I imagined these all-powerful leaders coming toe to toe with me. I was confident in my abilities but I wasn't even sure that I could stand up to that kind of power.
Damien nodded. “Vampyre, Aeronyx, Incubus/Incubus, and Nosferatu.”
I nodded slowly, drawing on that power that Anton's blood had filled me with. It was still there, buried in my veins maybe, but it was there. I felt a little stronger, a little more confident and straightened up. “Okay,” I said, “let's do it.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nearly all of those who were appointed to challenge me were elders. I noticed that the girl who filled the Nosferatu challenger box looked to be maybe thirteen, definitely not the ancient old man I had once met. I was really ambivalent about the trade off, being equally creeped out by them both.
When I focused, I could hear not only a million quiet conversations about me, but their truer thoughts as well. On appearance alone, some loved me, some envied me, but still more didn’t trust me or outright disliked me. It was daunting.
Damien led me out onto the floor. He looked up into the crowd and began, “Welcome all. I would like to thank you for all graciously being guests of Lucius’ House to expedite the challenger claims. Some of the new generation may believe it to be archaic, but we will continue the rites of our forefathers.” Some heads bowed across the audience at the statement.
My father stepped up alongside me, holding one hand toward me. “Finishing our the entry competition is the Magick’s Champion and princess, Kyra Lucius.”
Each group of vampires showed their appreciation. For the Magicks and Vampyres, this was a round of explosive cheers. The Aeronyx and Succubus clans contained themselves with only polite applause. The Nosferatu sat quietly, piercing dead eyes following my father and me.
“Without further ado, Kyra Will first race the representative of the Vampyres.”
As he spoke, the crowd rippled with anxious energy. He stepped away, leaving me alone to face the vampires adjusting position at the other end of the room. I stared down the challengers block until finally, Will emerged and stepped forward.
“Hey, cus’,” he said, shooting me his signature grin. “Don’t take it easy on me.” He winked and stretched his limbs out. I’d just come from doing stretches in the locker room so I was one step ahead of him.
My father reached the sidelines and lifted two fingers. A screen lowered in the center of the room, a bold ten illuminated in its center. He flicked his fingers and the countdown began.
I felt sick with tension but stood ready, trying not to fidget beneath one hundred gazes. Images of training days with Carson flickered through my mind, overlaying the room. I could see the way he moved, graceful but powerful. He could spin through a dozen steps before I realized what he was doing. He was an excellent coach.
The numbers overhead ticked down and the crowd shouted their names. Three. Two...One…
I knew before darting across the ground that Will would give this fight his all. He had this thing about fighting, like a code of honor, and with it, he was unrelenting. Despite its importance, he wouldn’t throw the fight. Hell, I wasn’t certain that he didn’t have an agenda much like Anton’s, trying to best me to take my place in this dangerous game of War.
As always, he was lithe and fast, speeding alongside me. He guessed my path again and again before I ever got close enough to do any damage. After several moments of quiet passing, I dodged just a touch too close and collided with Will’s shoulder.
He didn’t back down from the strike, allowing me to slam into him full force. Without bracing myself, the moment sent me skittering away. I crashed into the floor, scrapes searing my flesh.
Get up. Do this. I know you can. You have to.
My eyes shot up, searching the sidelines. I found Anton, standing nearer than the rest of the onlookers. He was daggering me with those burning golden orbs and his thoughts rang clearly to me. That same energy from his blood swarmed me anew, as though his fiery gaze has reignited it.
I pushed myself to my feet, facing off against a pacing Will. He gave me only a moment to observe him before he threw himself forward.
This was better. I could see, as though a fog had been lifted from my vision. There was a crystalline clarity over the room. In his fourth step, Will shifted wrong.
I burst forward, taking the advantage as I crashed into his instep. He thundered back, immediately losing his fitting and staggering. He didn’t completely lose his feet which had him spinning on me in an instant. Fists hurled toward me but I skirted away, his knuckles falling shy of my skin. If I spared just a little focus, I could sense the moves coming before they were planted, leaving me an instant to step aside.
I leapt away from another flurry of blows, Will sagging a little as separated. I danced on my toes, keeping my steps light. I saw the slip to the left before he did it and adjusted my feet, dipping forward and bringing my fist soaring forth.
Will had no idea it had been coming. My knuckles cracked into his jaw with a shudder, taking him completely from his feet then. He crashed to the ground, peering up at me with eerily red-brown eyes. A bruise was already forming along his jawline. I cringed.
He lifted to his feet, giving me a crooked smile. He raised his fists, took a deep breath, then kept me running as a flurry of blows rained down on me at full speed.
I kept up fairly well despite his greater speed. I played it safe, worried more about Will than any of these others. He knew how I fought. He knew why. If anyone could anticipate my next moves, it was him.
After nearly an hour of non-stop berating, we were both beginning to slow. Vampires were incredibly hardy, but even we had limits. We could not keep pushing to our limit forever.
Will burst forth, flying across the ground and delivering blows in a flash from all side. I blocked and side-stepped him with each, able to get an inkling of exactly where the next shot would crop up and using my vampire reflexes to act accordingly. He was obviously getting frustrated, his playful jibes turning sour.
Finally, he placed his foot in the wrong way, lining his body up perfectly with mine. I moved as soon as I had known his foot would be there, so the moment his leg planted, my fully body weight crashed into him, elbow first, and sent him rocketing through the air. With a thick thud, he crashed into the padded walls at the far end of the room and went still.
I recognized Lucas peel from the crowd and make his way to Will’s side. He knelt, conversing for a moment before stand
ing and facing me and the crowd. He lifted his hands, indicating surrender and waved over lines of people with stretchers. Vampires poured from the sidelines, gathering Will up on the stretcher.
I saw one thick pale arm whip in my direction and the team with the stretcher skated near. “You did good, Ky,” Will said, looking up at me. He was so exhausted he could barely lift his hand but still, he placed it over my own before they retreated with him.
I numbly stood while my father called victory and skirted the audience, finding Anton near where my father had stepped from the crowd. He was beaming at me, his excitement palpable even from my spot. Damien said something about a half an hour break and Anton hurried up to me. I was still breathing hard which was incredible for me. I had yet to be so thoroughly reminded that physically, i was not unending.
“You need to top up,” he whispered low in my ear, leading me toward the locker room door as the crowd exploded in cheers. I momentarily wanted to argue, but knew this bizarrely human ache and fatigue in my limbs was the result of needed healing which meant I was lower on blood than would be ideal.
Anton checked the locker room for people before pulling me into a shower stall and closing the curtain. He lifted his shirt from his frame which was already unbuttoned exposing a form fitting t-shirt beneath. He tilted his head to the side again and I was against his skin before I realized what I was doing.
More prepared for the onslaught of thoughts and feelings, I was able to thoroughly enjoy the process. He surged into me like one hundred cups of coffee. He moaned beneath my lips, tugging me against him more desperately and I again felt that wash of furious need. And right then, high on adrenaline, I wanted him too. I tore at his shirt, clutching him closer yet. He formed against me, as though this still wasn’t close enough.
His fingers slid along my jaw on one side, tugging my lips from his skin and to his own. He pressed against me, his mouth feverish on my own. He kissed me for a long moment before pulling away and kissing down my cheek and neck. His fingers were at the base of my shirt in an instant and I didn’t fight him. I raised my arms over my head, letting the fabric roll off.
His lips pressed hungrily against me. Everywhere he could reach was showered in kisses, but he hesitated at a spot beneath the edge of my jaw. He focused on that patch of skin, swirling his tongue amongst his kisses.
I only saw the decision in his mind for an instant before his teeth sank into me. The bite was painful but flecked with an ecstasy that negated the discomfort. I pulsed with agonizing joy and pleasure, my legs weakly falling from beneath me. It made no difference that I couldn’t support myself, Anton cradled me in his arms, pressed gently into his chest.
He tore away from me reluctantly, his mouth falling back on mine. He tasted sweet and strong, our blood entwined there. That mixture was a powerful balm in and of itself. I fell into him, encapsulated with his pleasure and passion.
Ice cold fingers of agony crawled down my spine as the shower head flickered on and spewed frozen water. I shrieked, leaping out of it against Anton’s agonizingly bare chest.
He laughed, and the rumble of it shook my cheek. He stepped free of the shower, producing a dry towel through the curtain which I wrapped myself in. I stepped out, staring at the floor with warm cheeks.
Anton sat on a bench outside the shower area, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’ll be good,” he said with a grin.
I forced a smile back but not sure if the knot in my belly was because I wasn’t sure he would be, or because I didn’t want him to be. I dressed quietly then, and though he didn’t say anything, his thoughts were running wild. I could feel his own perception of my feelings and his own as well. He knew I felt some doubt but the elation singing in his blood pushed it aside.
I emerged dressed in my other workout outfit. It sported a plain black tank top and equally plain leggings. I knew it hugged me well. It was supposed to.
I felt Anton’s eyes on me without looking to him to confirm it. He watched me bend and stretch, getting ready for the next fight. I also knew the moment he realized he may have taken more blood than made the feeding worthwhile and worry and anxiety tinged his emotions.
“Hey,” I called, snapping his attention to me once more. “I’m fine. I had more than enough,” I assured him, continuing my stretches.
That awful horror and panic faded. He watched me with admiring thoughts.
“I can hear you, you know,” I finally said, not feeling right to be eavesdropping if he didn’t know it.
His head shot up. All of it?
“Yes,” I replied, though he hadn’t spoken the words. “I can feel your empath stuff too.”
He sat quietly then, seeming to contemplate. “When did it start getting so clear?” He asked.
I considered. I hadn’t even realized I was genuinely reading anyone’s thoughts until I had drank his blood. “The first time I fed on you,” I replied.
He lapsed into silence again. He finally cleared his throat and said. “I think you may be absorbing some of my mental power,” he said into utter silence.
I could feel my heartbeat in my throat.
“I want you to take more,” he said suddenly, resolutely.
I peered up at him and found those amber eyes watching me. I gave him a questioning look but moved closer regardless.
“I-I think it may help you fight if you can read their thoughts more clearly,” he said, tilting his head aside again.
I considered that maybe he was right. It was good to do this. It would help.
But that was an afterthought to the fury of emotions that swam over me as his blood filled me again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
My next opponent mirrored me across the arena. For every step I took, he took another, gracefully following my lead within an instant. He was...disarming to look at.
He stood taller than me by at least a foot and had pale skin, hair, and eyes. He nearly looked washed out. And at his back, unfurled a gargantuan pair of black-feathered wings.
He had been tracing my steps for several minutes now and I had gained an increasing awareness of his otherworldly aura in that time. His eyes watched me but not with a human observance. It was predatory and wild.
I finally twisted, breaking my light steps and throwing myself to the far side of the arena, sweeping in an arc toward him. I reached the space in but seconds but still found that I was too late. A wave of dispersed air cascaded over me and a quick glance above showed him to be airborne, hovering in the sky, his giant black wings beating the air casually. He peered down at me with those inhuman pale eyes, almost looking like he was going to laugh.
He swooped down, those wings flattening to allow him a dive toward the ground and me with it. I dove to the side, but it didn’t save me from a fiery scorch of agony that made its way down my back. I hissed in pain and peered up at him again.
His wings beat the air slowly, casually, as he landed again. He stood stiffly, his arms at his sides and watched me. The moment his feet rested against the hardwood, I threw myself forward, catching him about the ankles as he attempted another airborne escape. He glared down at me, shaking one leg to try to rid me of him. It was ineffective, however, and with nails dug into his flesh, I clung.
“Little girl, this fight is in vain. Release me,” he growled, and even his voice had an alien hiss to it that sounded anything but alive. A shiver rolled down my injured spine at the sound. When I still didn’t relent, he flicked a hand in my direction and a silvery cord of light wrapped around my wrists, prying me away with a force I couldn’t fight. My hands bent back at unnatural angles and I was unable to stop them.
I shrieked in pain and crashed back to the floor, burns scraping my flesh. The man took flight again, though I only knew it by the wave of wind that passed over me. I lay crumpled on the ground, my wrists broken and distorted, tears streaming my face.
Was I going to be that easy to beat? Like an especially annoying pest, cast aside and discarded? Even as I lay there
though, I could feel the creeping burn of magick in my veins, traveling up my arms from my chest and looping around my injured wrists. Against mind-numbing pain, I forced my limbs straight, letting the healing twist them back into a usable shape and knit the breaks back together once more. The Aeronyx above me swayed through the air, watching his prey with curiosity. He didn’t seem to be sure if I was going to surrender.
“Get up, Ky!” a voice shouted from the sidelines. I flicked my gaze in that direction and found Anton on his feet, cheering and screaming, looking like he was an instant from charging the arena floor. It was almost heartbreaking to see the spots flanking him vacant. They would have been occupied by Carson and Kellic, had they both been here but instead, my only support was Anton. I appreciated that he had stayed, but still, my heart broke at the emptiness surrounding him.
As though my thoughts become flesh, my father appeared beside Anton, grinning in my direction. His eyes spoke volumes as he stared me down alongside my furiously cheering audience.
Get up, Kyra. You can do this. Get up.
A warmth welled within me, telling me to rise. My broken limbs were inconsequential to the situation at large. They would heal quickly with the roaring magick pulsing in my veins.
“Get up, Ky! If you can beat me, you can beat him!” exploded another voice from their section of stands. Will, with puckered pink healed wounds, emerged from the tunnel entry, taking his place on Anton’s other side. Anton himself barely spared Will or Damien a glance, his eyes locked on mine.
A glorious surge of power and peace welled within me and I was sure his targeted stare was part of the reason, but regardless, I felt a renewed will to rise to my feet.
As the tears and breaks in my wrists healed, my hands became more usable, but unlike many fights, I didn’t force away that magick, back into the depths of my soul. Instead, I called it to myself, hauling the power through my veins and to my fingertips until they cast an eerie blue-white glow over the arena floor. The Aeronyx didn’t look precisely displeased or interested, he just watched.
