by Angela White
“We can go now, as well,” Yuri offered. “You may also wait until they call you.”
Kendle shrugged, placing her kit by Yuri’s boots. “I do like to make an entrance.”
The Russian grinned, clearly anticipating having her kit to himself while she battled. Kendle didn’t tell him she’d scrubbed it for anything she didn’t want the masters to know. Yuri was supporting her, but he wasn’t loyal to anyone except himself. She wouldn’t make the mistake of contemplating otherwise.
Kendle strolled toward the small kiosks that were getting more shoppers than they usually did. She could tell by the eager delight on the faces of the shopkeepers. The glances they kept tossing to her were filled with gratitude. Kendle walked among them, feeling a bit safer.
Yuri lounged by the stairs to guide her into the fight, leaving Rice to hover like an annoying insect.
“Get lost,” Kendle ordered mildly.
Rice didn’t wait for her to be mean. He vanished through the main exit, presumably on his way to visit with his captive family or maybe even to tell on her for the poison on her blade. Either way, Kendle wasn’t more worried than she already had been upon waking this morning to Yuri’s cheerful knock and call. Full alert was as high as her emotions went. If things progressed beyond that, blood would spill. She expected to hit that point somewhere in these matches, but not for the first one. She needed to do this cool and calm, like Marc would have.
Kendle lingered at the doctor’s booth until the other customers had left. The owner, a thin man with a kind profile and weathered brown skin, gestured toward a box on the lowest shelf. “Discount bin.”
“Will you offer suggestions?” she asked, kneeling down.
Stan joined her, tugging the box onto the floor. He held out a package of bandages that was half used. “What can I do for you?”
“I need something absorbent.”
He dug deeper into the box. “Purpose?”
“Death.”
“How soon?” he replied, not showing a reaction to the words.
“Before the final match.”
Stan handed her a bottle of alcohol with a few inches of murky liquid remaining. “Take that. If you survive until the final match, come collect.”
Kendle pretended to read the label and smell the used alcohol as she asked, “How much?”
“Same deal you made with my friend who runs the café upstairs.”
“Deal.” Kendle stood up. “I can’t believe you have this!” She strode toward the exit with a huge grin and big mouth. “Bet heavy.”
The few customers who remained in the gym immediately went toward the booth to discover what she had purchased. While there, they would peruse his stock and Stan would make a profit.
Happy that she now had a medical supplier other than the masters or Rice, Kendle moved with the heavier flow of traffic in the halls. Not positive if an attack was allowed out of the ring, Kendle kept her attention on the crowd and not the speaker who was boringly profiling her and the first sucker the masters had found to die for their audience–while bleeding them dry of every dime and metal they had.
Kendle wasn’t bothered as she walked to the basement. Most of the citizens around her didn’t know who she was yet. It might be the last time that happened. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Kendle listened to the contemplations of those around her, as well as their words. By the time she hit the bottom floor, she had confirmed her impression of this being something big for them. The horrified boredom from this type of slavery, after surviving an apocalypse, had made them vulnerable to the same weaknesses that had allowed the world to be blown up. They were still passive sheep, waiting to be fed or slaughtered. Her visit would wake them a bit, give them a reprieve from what was coming and they would be grateful to her for the distraction if she won. If she lost, the locals might also kill her for the disappointment.
Yuri met her as soon as she entered the basement. “Over here.”
Kendle followed him to the center ring, now drawing attention. A small cheer echoed.
Tan and black uniforms were dotted through the crowd, blue tattoos flashing as they growled at citizens, but there wasn’t trouble here despite all the drinking and betting. Kendle assumed they were still scared enough to keep their wits about them. This place was dangerous. That was clear.
Yuri held up one creaking rope so that she could climb into the ring.
Kendle hadn’t regarded her opponent, wanting to be positive she had herself under control first. The masters had chosen knives for the battle, but they hadn’t said if it was to the death. She’d chosen not to take the chance.
Kendle lifted her chin to view who she had to kill…and struggled not to show the shock as she stared at the huge man. He was easily a foot taller, with arms flexed into big boulders that waited to pound her senseless.
Kendle stayed still as the referee, dressed in the old style of black and white, stepped between them.
The crowd pushed closer, almost tipping over the betting booth at the corner.
“Betting is done!” the speaker announced loudly. “Betting is finished. The fight starts in one minute.”
Kendle couldn’t help a shudder of apprehension that made some of the crowd groan. They’d bet on her.
The man now doing arm crunches for the audience that Kendle estimated to be around fifty, grinned at her with missing teeth and no sympathy.
Instead of replying in kind, Kendle scanned the organized chaos of the basement. The games and kiosks were all empty except for this one. She had the full crowd, but it wasn’t nearly enough to meet her expenses.
“This fight is not to the death,” the referee announced, waving them forward. “Shake hands and come out fighting at the bell.”
Kendle braced for pain, but the giant barely touched her hand before recoiling.
The crowd quieted, instantly suspicious.
Kendle tried not to react, but it was impossible not to feel the fear. Fifty was enough to overwhelm her. She’d forgotten how defensive her demon was.
Ding! The bell rang before the giant recovered.
Kendle snatched her knife from her belt and threw it as hard as she could.
She nearly missed. The blade sliced through the man’s arm at an inch depth, and flew into the crowd. Someone there screamed.
The giant laughed, taking a step forward as the crowd roared, “Kill her! Kill her!”
Kendle didn’t move. She waited for him to pause, to peer down…
“What is this?” the giant asked in sudden fear. “What is it?”
Kendle knew not to gloat yet. The pause where he’d sensed her magic was still too fresh and the poison needed time to work. Paralyzing muscles and organs came first, then death. She’d chosen wisely.
The giant slid to his knees, strangling noises echoing across the room that had gone quiet.
Sticking to her plan, Kendle pointed toward the stairs. “The medical and doctor booths sell some great things. One of them was Batrachotoxin.”
“What is that?” the giant forced out, blood trickling from one nostril. He could barely breathe. His chest felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, making it impossible to take in enough oxygen.
“Poison.”
The audience cheered as the giant fell over, no longer able to use his muscles to control his big body. The thought of magic was banished for the obvious as the bell rang to declare it a win.
Now Kendle grinned, ignoring the guilt to reclaim her blade from the grinning, twitchy spectator who’d recovered it. Another body lay on the ground outside the ring.
Kendle sheathed it carefully, taking advantage of the shock to say, “The medical booth is probably out of this now, but it’s got other things. Get them before I do.”
The crowd chuckled, finally moving toward the betting kiosks as the speaker blared, “The Widow won! Collection booths are open.”
Kendle climbed out of the ring, but she stayed close in case the masters decided poisoning wasn’t allowed. When no call came, she chan
ced a glance toward the huge table and plush chairs that had been placed along a wall for their comfort.
Yuri raised his glass to her, as did Iram. Renda and Xavier glowered.
“Let’s celebrate!” Rice crowed, appearing at her elbow. “On me!”
Kendle allowed Rice to lead her from the gym, but she refused to visit the first floor café that was now being run by one of the angry relatives of the first café owner that she had ratted on to make her deal.
“Upstairs is better,” she proclaimed loudly. “Real beef. No rat filler.”
Kendle hid a smirk as nearly half the crowd followed her and Rice upstairs. These market sheep were easy to herd.
2
“Come in,” Kendle called at the light knock. She’d ditched Rice and the other happy gamblers at the crowded café for the quiet of her cubicle after only a short time.
Yuri opened the door, eyes roaming her bare skin. “Your winnings have been seen to.”
Kendle rolled onto her stomach and gestured at the bottle of oil on the end table. “I need to be rubbed. Tell me while you work.”
Yuri swallowed a lump and entered the room. He began to pull the door shut.
“Leave it open,” Kendle instructed, pushing off her new slippers. The café owner had insisted on giving her his. She left socks on.
Yuri climbed onto the narrow bed with her, breathing already increasing to shallow rasps as her mostly naked skin waited for his fingertips.
No, he definitely doesn’t mind my scars, she thought, not reacting to the cool baby oil on her skin. She was in her bra and underwear, but not scared or even worried. She had figured out what drove Yuri, what he wanted from all of this.
“I’m going to kill her.”
Yuri rubbed her harder, spreading the slippery oil over her bare thighs and the edges of her cheeks. He didn’t speak.
Kendle felt his hardness rub against her thigh and allowed it as she asked, “Will you tell me about Xavier and about the UN being here?”
Yuri thrust forward, clenching her hip. “For the right price, I might tell you anything!”
Kendle wiggled her hips, sliding his hand from her slick skin. “Now you can close the door.”
3
Kendle woke to the same sounds that had greeted her for the last week–people. She didn’t like it anymore today than usual, but the hot breath on her neck didn’t help.
“I will bring you breakfast,” Yuri purred in her ear.
Kendle grunted, eager for him to be gone. Yuri was surprisingly gentle, but she didn’t want to waste the time. She had a lot to do today.
Yuri sensed what she wanted and quickly dressed. He left with only a quick brush of his hand down her arm, but Kendle was warmed. Yuri wasn’t a good man, but he also wasn’t evil. She’d certainly made worse alliances, namely Adrian.
Kendle took her time getting ready, going over plans as she prepared to face the public. She expected a busy afternoon.
Kendle stepped from her cubby to a low cheer from the small crowd that had clearly been waiting for her to make an appearance. She grinned as she read the sign of a local in the front. Black Widow.
“I like that,” Kendle called to the raggedy woman, laughing. “Have them change my name.”
Kendle was still chuckling as she entered the café, where a seat quickly cleared for her among the dozen customers.
“Good day,” Cutts greeted, brimming with cheer. “The usual?”
Kendle took the cup of coffee he held out to her. “Surprise me.”
“Can do,” he agreed, shifting toward the grill where other orders were already cooking. The smells were wonderful.
Kendle tried not look at any of the other patrons, not wanting to suffer through their fumbling attempts at small talk. She didn’t have a headache or gut ache yet, but she could feel her woman’s time coming and it was already making her grouchy.
Cutts set a plate of fruit by her hand and went to the grill to flip the sizzling meats and vegetables.
Kendle munched on fruit and sipped the coffee, wondering how well this booth was doing compared to the medical shops that she’d helped last night. Was she clear on food yet?
Unlikely, Kendle decided. Despite the crowd right now, there hadn’t been one yesterday morning. This would have to happen regularly for it to make a real dent in her tab.
“I was thinking I should treat myself to something special today,” Kendle stated. “Suggestions?”
The cook studied her in surprise, considering his answer. He went with, “Nails or hair? Women used to like that stuff. Some of ours still do.”
“Maybe,” she agreed. “Are those owners as good at their jobs as you are?”
Cutts snorted. “No, but they’ll get it done if you’ve got anything they want.” He glanced at her, saw the subtly lifted brow that most of the other patrons didn’t. “I’ve heard they’re fans of music and science books.”
“Odd combo,” she commented, wondering if the books here would have been read by the residents.
“Yep. They don’t make enough to splurge on things like reading or CDs. Makes them valuable.”
Kendle mentally sighed in relief. She had a thumb drive in her kit that held over a thousand books, many of them educational. She’d been gathering the files whenever she could find them. She enjoyed reading. “Good to know. What can a girl do around here for fun?”
Cutts slid a portion of steaming chicken onto the buttered biscuits and smothered them in thick country gravy. “Yuri.”
Kendle choked, spitting coffee across the counter.
The cook hurried over to wipe it up as everyone laughed.
Kendle gloated over the victory. Word would now spread to Renda that they were lovers. True or not, it would anger her rival and cause tension. For Kendle, it was a double win. When she slept alone, she had nightmares. Waking up screaming right now would make her seem weak, something she couldn’t have.
Cutts slid the plate in front of her after adding a generous helping of fried potatoes with peppers and onions.
Suddenly ravenous, Kendle dug in, aware of the fresh snickers. The patrons were assuming that Yuri had given her a workout, resulting in a good appetite. It wasn’t far from the truth, but in the end, he’d agreed that killing Renda was enough to pay for the UN information that she wanted. Once it was done, he was supposed to tell her everything. Until then, he’d promised to tell her parts of it each night that she let him sleep next to her. Kendle had agreed. Yuri was handy, harmless. The same couldn’t be said of Xavier, who Yuri had spilled his guts over with little provocation. Kendle had already guessed that they were enemies, assuming it was over Renda’s dead sister. Yuri had refused to speak of that woman at all.
Kendle had assumed that Malia hadn’t died a natural death, but hadn’t needed to confirm it once she’d figured out that Yuri hated Xavier. All she had to do was kill Renda, get the information and the hidden DOC, and then get to Safe Haven. Everything else was added chaos that she didn’t have time to sort.
4
“They’ve chosen hand-to-hand,” Yuri stated from the entryway of the tiny nail salon where Kendle was being given a custom job. He scanned her oiled body in familiarity and affection.
Kendle blushed on cue, adding fire to the gossip.
“What time?” she asked, twisting her hand in the stirrup in search of a comfortable position. The nails gleamed bright red in the dim lighting.
“Same as last night,” he answered, not coming into the small shop. It was already a tight fit with Kendle and the technician, but the smells were also thick, smothering. “Roughly the same size fighter, as well.”
Kendle heard his warning. “The bigger they are…”
Yuri grinned, leaving her to her manicure. He had no idea how she would win the fight, but for some reason, he was now positive that she would beat them all except for Renda. Yuri had to hope on that one. Renda would use her whip, he was certain. He’d already told Kendle, but she hadn’t seemed worried. Yuri didn
’t have as much faith, but a small chance was better than no chance. He’d learned that well during his lifetime. Coming to America had changed nothing.
“Tell me about him,” Kendle encouraged as the technician leaned over her other hand to repeat the labor.
The short, shrewd woman studied Kendle through decades of worry lines and wrinkles. “Included or extra?”
Kendle understood there might be something worth paying for. “Either or neither. It depends on the information.”
Rita made a nasty sound in her throat. “You talk like them.”
“Them, who?” Kendle asked, assuming she meant the masters.
“Magic users.”
Kendle tensed involuntarily, immediately twisting it into fear. “Here? Magic users?”
Rita peered up at her suspiciously. “Like you don’t know.”
Kendle was forced to settle for a thick glower.
Rita paled a bit, but didn’t back down. “I know what you are. Be careful.”
Glad no one had been close enough to hear that, Kendle didn’t respond as the squat woman finished her nails. Kendle studied the gleaming red, running through possible outcomes. She needed to handle this before leaving the shop.
Kendle asked, “Did you know Renda’s sister?”
Rita’s face morphed into grief and deep rage. “Malia was my friend.”
Kendle felt the hint that there was a closer bond, but she knew better than to ask. “How did she die?”
“Renda!” Rita spat, shoving Kendle’s hand from the stirrup. “You’re done. Get lost.”
Kendle stood up, not sure what to say. She chose to be silent and let the woman grieve. If Rita hated Renda that much, she wouldn’t tell the masters what she knew until after the final match.
As Kendle neared the exit, Rita slapped her fist against the counter.
Kendle pushed lightly into her thoughts, needing to be positive that she was safe until the final match.
Beyond that even, if you kill her, Rita growled in Kendle’s mind. Make her suffer. Malia deserves justice.
Kendle gave the angry woman a comforting nod, eased. Rita was also a magic user. She couldn’t reveal Kendle without expecting the same treatment in return. Both their secrets were safe for now.
