by Dannika Dark
With that, a sinister smile crossed my face.
The microphone clicked on. “Ladies, begin.”
With lightning speed, Blondie flashed over and punched me in the face.
Holding my eye, I looked up as she flashed off. “So that’s how it’s gonna be? Hit and run? That’s not fighting.”
When she came at me a second time, I ducked and threw out my leg to trip her. She smacked into the wall and left a streak of blood where she crumpled to the floor. As I moved toward her, she struck me in the femur with her steel-toed boot.
“Son of a—” I grimaced and looked at my leg to see if a bone was sticking out. Much to my relief, the kick had only broken my skin but nothing else.
Blondie crawled away and then scrambled to her feet.
I loved confined spaces. No escape, no surprises, and…
The wall between two windows opened up like a drawer, and Blondie flashed over and pulled out a dagger.
What was I saying about surprises?
As the rectangular drawer shut, I realized that either the house or the players were in control, and we were nothing but chips on the table.
She gripped the dagger in her left hand and held it above her head.
Amateur.
When Blondie flashed toward me and drove down the knife, I throat-punched her. The blade sank into my shoulder and cut bone, but I was willing to take the hit. She reached for her throat, gasping and coughing. I punched her in the face again and again like a boxer going for the win. Blood sprayed across one of the mirrored windows like raindrops. The knife fell from her grip and skittered across the floor when she accidentally kicked it while stumbling backward.
Blondie fell to all fours, retching and gasping for breath.
I reached down and scooped up the dagger, my palm welcoming the handle like an old friend. “Hello, darling.”
As I straightened my back, I glimpsed her in the mirror, moving like a bullet. A punch to the kidney brought me to my knees. The pain radiated through my insides like a sharp sword burying itself deep. The second blow came from her steel-toed boot, and when it hit the same spot, I bellowed in pain.
I rolled to my side and stared at the floor in disbelief. I’d taken a lot of blows in training, but never to the kidney. Nausea swept over me, but I pushed it down and went into survival mode. All the mirrors gave me flashbacks to the days when I fought for my life in bar bathrooms. I had taken all my victims by surprise, but this was no sneak attack, and I finally had an equal who wanted to win just as much as I did.
I caught her movement in the mirrors, and before she could kick me again, I rolled out of reach.
With the knife gripped in my hand—the way you’re supposed to hold a knife in a fight—I used the wall to steady myself and rose to face her. “Now you’ve pissed me off,” I grumbled.
Her face reddened as she continued coughing, but she wasn’t giving up.
In the many reflections, I noticed the stab wound on my back. The dagger wasn’t a stunner, so the offering was meant to increase the bloodshed, not win the fight.
Blood trickled down my arm in rivulets as I pointed the dagger at her. “Come and get it.”
She spat blood on the floor, her left eye swelling up and those pretty lips split and bleeding. Defeat didn’t flicker in her eyes, and she stood like an immovable rock that refused to be broken.
I admired the hell out of her.
We circled each other like predators, each looking for a weakness. Blondie flashed at me, and in a surprise move, bent down and hoisted me off the floor. Airborne for the briefest of seconds, I braced myself for the fall. My back hit the floor with a sickening thud. Before I could wince, we grappled as she tried to disarm me.
I wrenched my hand away, slicing her arm in the process. Stabbing a Mage in the torso wouldn’t do much damage, but a leg wound would slow her down. I readjusted the blade and sank it into her thigh. To my delight, Blondie let out a bloodcurdling scream. She then yanked the blade out and aimed it over my chest. With her straddling me and my right arm pinned, I had no escape.
As the blade came down, I knocked her hand with my free arm. She missed, and once again, we fought for the weapon. I threw her off me as I bit her arm and rolled to the side. No Vampire fangs, just good old-fashioned incisors. When her entire body suddenly heated up like a furnace, I roared like a wild animal caught in a trap. Her touch was unbearable, and I scurried backward.
“You Thermal bitch,” I growled, my teeth still burning.
Out of breath, she exhaustedly grabbed the knife and remained on one knee, glancing at me over her right shoulder.
“You’re tough,” she said. “But I’m tougher.”
That pissed me off.
I sprang to my feet, and I didn’t feel my injuries anymore. Niko’s words rang in my head. When you feel the pain and let it take over, it consumes you with fear and doubt. Niko said if I learned to separate pain from my conscious mind, I could do anything.
I sprinted toward the wall and ran up it two steps before pushing off and sailing through the air. She didn’t have time to process what was happening. I was already on top of her like one of those wrestlers my father used to watch on TV. I body-slammed her, and the knife spiraled out of reach. Blondie crumpled to the ground like a broken tree in a storm, and I was that storm.
Then I twisted around and pinned her head between my thighs, my ankles locked and knees bent like I’d done a hundred times before. As the circulation to her brain ceased, she did what they all had done—tried to pry my legs apart before beating her fists on them. She writhed and struggled to free herself, but I had a tight grip on that bun on her head.
She suddenly switched on her Thermal powers, and it felt like my legs were wrapped around a radiator.
Hold on just one more minute. You can do this. Don’t give up. I ignored the intense heat and only thought of survival. This was the end times, we were the last two on earth, and only one of us would walk out alive.
As her struggling decreased, so did the heat. Sweat beaded on my brow and across my chest. My thighs were on fire, and it was everything I could do not to scream.
She finally went limp. This was the part where they lost consciousness for a few brief moments, allowing me to finish the job. I released my hold, my inner thighs bright red from the knees up with two visible handprints on top. I rolled my opponent onto her back and straddled her.
“Light’s out,” I panted, placing my hands on hers.
Just as the first current of her energy entered my palms, my fangs wanted to punch out. I tasted the power in her light. What would her blood taste like? If she wasn’t evil like the others I’d killed, would that blood have the opposite effect, giving me a rush of power?
So many questions.
I reached deep down for her core light. Her eyelids fluttered before her eyes popped open when she realized I was about to steal her immortality. Somehow they could always tell when I went too deep—deeper than any juicer had ever gone.
She feebly shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. “No,” she whispered.
Reminded that this was only a game, I severed the connection so fast that the energy snapped against my palms like a stretched rubber band.
I was breathing as if I’d run a mile, and it was the only sound in the room.
Blondie looked away, and with that, she surrendered. I slowly stood, blood dripping from my fingertips, my body blistered and bruised. There was no roar of applause. No referee to raise my arm as the winner. The white room was now freckled with blood spatters, and I saw myself in every direction. This was the real me. Not a scrapper trying to get by. Not a hustler. Not a daughter. Not even a killer.
I was a warrior.
The intercom clicked on. “We have a champion. The raven-haired fighter is the last standing. Congratulations to the winners. Please remain seated until we escort you out. Drinks are available for those waiting. Good evening.”
Unimpressed by the announcement, I made my wa
y back to my door and lifted my duster off the ground.
“Well done,” Blondie said.
I turned to look at her. She had managed to sit up, but barely. Pablo hadn’t suggested that losers were fired, but I guessed that salaries relied heavily on wins. I didn’t know this girl or what her story was—why she needed the money so badly to put herself through this—but I inclined my head respectfully before the door opened and I left the room.
My insides still hurt from the kidney assault, enough that I’d probably pee blood for a week, even after healing. My right arm tingled as I walked dizzily up the stairs.
“I must commend you on your fighting techniques. Very impressive,” Pablo said, approaching with a towel in hand. “Sit down and let me have a look at you.”
I robotically sat in the chair, still feeling that woman’s energy coursing through my body.
Pablo took my hand, and before I knew it, he was giving me healing light. Blue light threaded between our palms as energy specific to healing tunneled through me and sealed up my wounds. The red marks on my thighs disappeared along with the blisters, bruises, and cuts.
Pablo wiped the damp towel over my shoulder and cleaned off the blood. “Next time, bring a suitable change of clothing. Casual. Like something you would wear in a restaurant. The fighters have a private bathroom, and you’ll be able to shower in there.” He lifted my arm and continued washing me. “It’s imperative that we don’t make mistakes. You can’t walk out of our gallery with blood on you. From now on, you’ll enter through the back door.”
“Am I hired?”
He looked at me with astonishment. “My dear, you won against our reigning champion.”
“Why would you pit me against the best?”
He turned the towel over. “Because we only want the best. I would have hired you if you lasted more than ten minutes in there. No one has lasted more than five.” Once my hands were spotless, he stepped back. “Before you leave, someone would like to meet you.”
A woman floated toward us from around the bend. Her alabaster skin wasn’t without flaws, so I ruled out a Vampire. I always tried to assess people’s Breed right off the bat. Her orange hair, which was styled in a finger wave, ruled out Chitah. Candy-apple-red lips turned up in a smile, revealing teeth so white and perfect that she almost didn’t seem real. The sequins in her silver gown caught the light and shimmered like diamonds.
Pablo shoved a chair in front of me. Out of breath, he stepped aside to let the lady sit.
She offered me her hand, the emerald ring on her middle finger as deep green as Irish pastures. “Hello, Robin. I’m Audrey.” It was the same British announcer from the fight, only now she spoke more softly.
I stared at her hand, wondering if she wanted me to kiss it or something.
“I’ve never been a fan of all the bowing,” she said. “I think that custom began because of people like me.”
I took her hand and lightly shook it. “People like you?” Before letting go, I felt what I could only describe as the sensation of running through a meadow of flowers—warm wind in my hair, golden sunshine melting against my skin, and the fragrant smell of lilac and phlox. I retracted my hand. “You’re a Sensor.”
She crossed her legs. “Breeds have never trusted each other. Beware the stranger. I suppose bowing was one custom we created to avoid a Sensor putting power into another without permission.”
“Like you just did?”
She waved her index finger at me while looking at Pablo. “I like her. She has gumption.”
I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, who are you? I got your name, but—”
“I’m the reason you’re here. Pablo handles the vetting process, but after tonight’s fight, I had to meet you myself.”
“I think that woman down there has a lot of gumption. Hope you don’t fire her.”
Audrey turned her gaze downward to the window as the blonde made her way out of the room. “I never let go of people like her. A fearless woman is a diamond. The word diamond comes from a Greek word that means invincible. Diamonds are harder than any other mineral, and they’re not easy to break. But nothing is unbreakable. You’re a Stealer, aren’t you?”
“What makes you think that?”
She pinned me with her gaze. “I saw what you almost did in there. Pablo’s a Stealer.”
“Is that so?”
“Robin, don’t hold back on your gifts.”
I furrowed my brow. “You don’t see the problem? If I stole her core light, she’d be useless to you.”
Audrey leaned back in her chair and gestured to the windows. “That’s what they pay for. It would certainly put me out, but there are always replacements.”
“Do you have any male fighters?”
“Our clients don’t want to see men fighting. They’ve been watching that for centuries. There’s a particular audience who relishes in the success of women—seeing their power on full display. They want to feel that power.”
“Feel?”
“Before you leave here, I’m going to pull that experience out of you and sell it to the highest bidder. You’ll keep the memory but not the sensory information. That’s where we make the most money. I implant that memory inside them so it’s theirs to keep. They will possess the feel of every blow, every kick, and every rush that you did while dominating your enemy. They want you to use your gifts against each other, so long as you both walk out of that room alive.”
“You’ll run out of fighters.”
She laughed brightly and shared a look with Pablo, who gave a mechanical smile. “Now that’s confidence.” After stifling her amusement, she looked me over. “Have you ever killed anyone? Is that why you stopped pulling her light?”
Uncertain what she wanted to hear, I raked my fingers through my hair. I heard Viktor’s voice in my head, telling me to get more information. “Who’s your audience? It might shock them if they saw what I almost did in there. Making someone mortal is worse than death and strikes fear in a lot of people.”
Audrey tapped her bottom lip. “I cannot divulge who pays to play, but you’re right. This audience isn’t interested in watching a murder. It’s about the champion and the battle.”
“Are they all men?”
Her brows subtly arched. “What makes you suggest that?”
“Because that’s who pays to watch fights like these. Men who get off watching women wrestle each other in skimpy clothes.”
She shrugged. “Wear a Mickey Mouse costume for all I care. You can flip on the telly and watch women wrestling for free. That’s not why they’re here.”
“Why don’t you hire Vampires or Shifters?”
Audrey uncrossed her legs and leaned against the armrest. “Mage women aren’t easy to come by, and ones that can fight? A rarity indeed. I’m quite certain you know your own history. So tell me, have you ever killed anyone? I need to know everything about my fighters before I put them in that room.”
I leaned back and folded my arms. I wouldn’t be fighting again, so what I chose to say wouldn’t matter. I just wanted to keep her talking. “Yes. I’ve killed a lot of men. Does that make me a liability? Have you had any accidents in there? Is that what you’re afraid of?”
I really wanted her to confess to the deaths of the women who were dumped in the alleyways.
Audrey sighed melodically and glanced at Pablo, who kept his eyes downcast. “Robin, would you be satisfied walking away a champion, or do you require the victory of a kill? Be honest with me.” She leaned forward and touched my knee.
What fuckery was this? With nowhere to go, I had a Sensor reading me for lies, and that made me all kinds of nervous. Shepherd was gifted, but could this woman read my mind or just my feelings? In any case, I couldn’t lie.
“I’m not satisfied unless I kill my opponent. Walking away is like taking a bite of cake and throwing the rest in the trash. It’s like a man bringing you to the edge of climax and then leaving the room.” I moved my knee away and stood to put dis
tance between us. “But if you have a rule against killing, that’s all I need,” I said, quickly covering my tracks so she wouldn’t have someone scrub my memories before I left the building. “I want this job. I need this money. I can walk away without killing if that’s what you need me to do.”
When met with silence, I turned away and watched two men in white coveralls mopping the bloody floor in the room below.
“I want to make you a proposition,” she began. “This reminds me of that game show with the curtain. What was that one called?”
“Let’s Make a Deal,” Pablo replied.
She laughed blithely. “All those silly humans, dressing up in costumes for a chance at winning a dishwasher. Robin, we’ll take care of you as long as you are loyal to us. But if you crave excitement and danger, I can offer you something behind curtain number two. But that would mean walking away from this position, and if you reject my second offer, we’ll have no choice but to wipe your memories clean. My assistant is thorough, and you’ll lose all memories of everything that’s happened between today and Friday. She doesn’t pick and choose; it all goes.”
“What kind of job?” I asked, still watching the men clean the room.
“If you settle for the current job, we’ll provide you with a schedule. If you’re curious about my second mystery offer, then reject this position and I’ll see you on Friday. I’m afraid you’ll have to go in blind. What will it be?”
I turned on my heel. “I guess I’ll see you Friday.”
“That pleases me more than you know.” She rose to her feet and changed the topic to my recent victory.
I glanced down, and horror swept through me. The necklace! I clutched my chest and searched the floor.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“My necklace is gone.”
“After today’s earnings, you’ll have enough to buy a hundred necklaces of your choosing.”
“It’s sentimental. My father gave it to me.”
Pablo neared the glass and looked down. “It’s there… by the wall.”
“Fetch it, darling.” Audrey smiled at him when he gave her a thorny look.
I wanted to smash my fists against the glass. All this juicy information, not to mention Audrey’s face, and none of it captured on Wyatt’s stupid video camera.
