Both women were stunning. Definite nines. An upgrade from their previous sevens. The petty thought lodged in Scarla’s brain, even though she wasn’t threatened by their beauty, or sophistication. Why would she be, she was an eleven.
“Thanks, but we’re not here for compliments.” Amaya strolled forward, her heels clicking on the tile. “We came to warn you. Bane and Gideon are out there, along with Kush.”
Scarla shrugged. “They’re cool. As long as Chay doesn’t show up. He doesn’t know I’m back in the cage and I want to keep it that way.”
“Got it.” Dina gave a thumbs up. “As far as we know, he’s in the dark.”
Good. He had enough to worry about. She didn’t need to add to it, even though she could take care of herself.
Amaya wandered around the room, inspecting. “And don’t worry about the guys. They are not tagging along when we go clubbing. Girls’ night is on as soon as you mop the floor with whatever victim they throw at you.”
Yeah. Sure. Right. Gideon and Bane were going to let their absolutely stunning women go out on the town all by themselves? Not a chance in hell.
The door banged open. “It’s time, Divinity.” Gary stood in the doorway.
She nodded at him and quickly stripped off her shorts and sweatshirt, leaving her in a white, sleeveless biketard with painted wings on the back.
Dina snickered. “Divinity, huh. I’m liking the angel angle.”
“Very original.” Head cocked to the side, Amaya smirked and clapped—once.
Scarla reeled back a sharp reply. Whatevs. She did not need to be made fun of minutes to show time. Sophie knew this. These two were clueless. This pseudo-friendship was not working. “You guys get to your seats. I need to finish my warm-up.”
“All right. We’re not going to wish you luck because you don’t need any. So, break a leg.” Amaya slapped Scarla’s arm and sashayed away.
Scarla waited for the door to close behind them to growl, “Doesn’t she know she’s not supposed to say, ‘Break a leg?” She shook her head to clear her thoughts, then closed her eyes. A few deep breaths centered her. Usually, an easy exercise, not so today. Too many distractions, plus, her body felt different. Unsettled. Something was off and she couldn’t put her finger on it.
The door banged open again. “Showtime,” one of the handlers called.
Whatever it was would have to wait because butterflies took flight in her stomach and a rush of adrenalin spiked her blood. Showtime it was. She rolled her shoulders and snapped her neck from side to side. Neither action did anything to release her building tension.
She strode out of the dressing room and into the main area of the converted warehouse. Crowds packed the bleacher style seats along the wall and cushioned chairs for the high rollers. Dimi sat in the middle of his most exclusive clients, lord of his domain. He raised his glass to her. She didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, she smiled a shit-eating grin, and raised her arms in triumph, as if to say to the crowd, “I’m back, bitches. Now bow down and praise me.”
She waited for the roar of unbridled adulation she was accustomed to as an undefeated champion.
And got nothing except a smattering of claps and a few hoots from…wow, Bane and Gideon. Kush made like a statue with his arms folded over his broad chest. At least he wasn’t dressed in leather with his sword strapped to his hip. None of them were armed, though all their weapons were only a thought away, and all looked presentable and sexy. A disturbing thought when she considered them to be brothers.
A dark corner in the well-lit structure drew her attention. In the center of that darkness stood Gadreel, his face alone visible. And his eyes, crimson headlights.
She swallowed down the lump that formed in her throat and ignored the tingle in the pit of her stomach. Very different from the butterflies a moment ago. Butterflies hadn’t caused a throb deep in her pussy.
No one else noticed him, make that no one who wasn’t UnHallowed. The trio glanced at Gadreel. She wondered what they said to each other during their silent communication.
A roar erupted from the crowd as her opponent entered the arena, shutting down further contemplation about her pussy’s reaction to Gadreel. Androgina was tall, with at least fifty pounds of muscles that Scarla didn’t have. Wouldn’t make a difference. Male or female, Androgina would be tapping out like all who came against her.
The cage opened, and her opponent entered. She strolled around the perimeter, inciting the crowd into a frenzy, something Scarla used to do. Will do again.
The emcee went through the preamble to the match, announcing Androgina versus Divinity. The reigning champ versus the returning champ. Both undefeated, until tonight. Blah, blah, blah.
They faced each other in the ultimate stare down, the last chance to psych out the opponent before the bell rang.
“Enjoy your last moment of being pretty, little Divinity.”
“I hope you have a warranty on your plastic surgery.”
Fury danced across Androgina’s face as the referee ordered them to tap fists. Androgina brought her fist up, refusing the order.
Fine by me. Scarla danced on the balls of her feet, her arms loose at her sides, ready, waiting, for the sound of metal striking metal.
The bell rang. Androgina charged, her fist flashed out. Scarla pulled back a fraction, escaping an uppercut. She didn’t congratulate herself because she’d barely seen it coming. Luck got her out of danger, not skill.
Something’s wrong.
How epic to find out now. All her senses ignited, but not with the inbred instinct Scarla was accustomed to. She skipped around the cage, her wits scrambled. This wasn’t her operational mode. She was the one who attacked, not backed away, but something was wrong. Her coordination was off, her speed flagged. Her limbs were oddly sluggish.
The crowd buzzed with excitement. Someone yelled, “Get in there, bitches.” The fact that she heard it, knew the direction it came from, startled her. Her head wasn’t in the game. Instead of being zoned in, she was in the weeds and the first blow hadn’t landed.
Androgina came at Scarla again. Scarla split her focus between her opponent’s feet and hands to determine which way she would lead, and to plan a counterattack. The lessons she’d acquired during her MMA training, most of which she’d forgotten because she was an invincible Halfling, rushed back to her.
She blocked the right hook, which left herself open for the left cross that glanced over her temple. She fell back into the cage, dazed. That’s when she remembered why she took the lessons, not to learn how to fight, but how to protect her opponents from the unfair edge her UnHallowed blood presented.
The startling realization was lost under a barrage of blows Scarla managed to block, blows that rocked her.
Move! she ordered her muscles. Instead of running, Scarla latched onto Androgina. She tangled their arms and pitched herself onto her opponent. She tangled their legs, knocking her taller opponent off balance with the surprise attack. They went to the mat.
Scarla tried to rotate them so she’d land on top with the leverage to win. Androgina twisted their bodies. She was heavier, stronger. Scarla landed with a bone-rattling thud. All of her slammed into the mat. She had the presence of mind to hook her arms and legs around Androgina to keep her away from landing body blows. She didn’t count on Androgina lifting her up and slamming her again, and again into the mat, which was nothing more than a thin covering over the concrete floor. Something broke, make that multiple things. She felt the snap and the echo reverberated throughout her body, once, twice, a third time. Screaming took too much energy. Besides, she couldn’t breathe.
Androgina rose over her. In Scarla’s peripheral, the referee took Androgina’s hand and raised it in the air. She shoved the referee away and came at Scarla again.
She couldn’t avoid the kick that snapped several ribs. Air whooshed out of her on a pain-filled gasp. A dizzying kaleidoscope of light danced around the edges of her wavering vision. Then, her world whittled down
to the steel cage surrounding her, the side of which peeled back like the skin of an orange. Androgina was lifted off her feet and tossed away, somewhere to the right judging by the sound of the impact.
Movement above her caught her attention. A bird, she thought. A big, black raven had come for her. It landed and the ground shook from the impact, followed by another, and another. She blinked once, and her blackbird was there, beside her, crimson shining from its eyes.
Its claw extended, reached for her. She welcomed it and the cessation of pain when it ended her life. Anything to stop the air trapped in her lungs, mingling with the blood that shouldn’t be there.
Smothered in a velvet embrace, she greeted the warm, dark world. A world she never wanted to leave.
Chapter Nine
Fists curled, Sophie eyed her steak knife. Though Chay was a wall between her and Eddie, she wanted him to go Bruce Banner, pull a Hulk transformation, and toss Chay aside so she could filet his throat.
Three guys lined up behind him.
“I heard he was shot, didn’t know by who.” Eddie pointed at her and mouthed, You’re dead.
A short, potbellied man rushed from the kitchen. “All right, break it up or I call the cops, got them on speed dial.” He tried to wedge himself between Chay and Eddie, and failed.
Suddenly, everyone froze. She’d seen this movie already and wasn’t surprised at the outcome. What surprised her was that he did it alone, something he couldn’t do before the battle in Siberia. Named the Powerful One, he’d lost his power when he fell from Heaven, changing him into an immortal with no more power than a muscular, weapons trained human.
His head cranked around, and his crimson eyes nailed her. “What?” she snapped.
“The police are already on their way.” He tipped his head to the bartender with a cellphone pressed to his ear. “You have a choice. I erase their minds and none of this happened, or—”
“I don’t want your help. I can handle my shit myself.” She plopped her ass back into her chair, where she watched Chay wrap his hand around Eddie’s throat, who’d come back to life at the first touch.
Eyes bugged, hands prying at Chay’s fingers, Eddie fought for a precious sip of air. Chay watched him struggle and for a moment, a speck of concern flitted through her soul. He brought Eddie close and whispered, though she heard every word as if he said it in her ear. “Threaten her again and there isn’t a place you can hide where I will not find you. Touch her, you or any of your ilk, and they will never find enough of you to bury. She’s mine, and I protect what belongs to me.”
Her emotions went Tilt-A-Whirl as the world slid back into motion like a train lurching out of a station. Eddie stumbled away, wheezing and headed for the exit. Chay sat opposite her while the waitress hustled over. “Get me the damn check,” Sophie snapped. The waitress scurried away while Chay leaned across the table.
“I’ve never known you to be rude. Take your anger out on me. No one else deserves it.”
Chay was right. The waitress didn’t deserve being yelled at for doing her job. Was it only two weeks ago Sophie served drinks and food at Lusted? Any customer that had spoken to her the way she spoke to her waitress would’ve been shown the door either by Scarla or one of the UnHallowed.
Shame made her lower her head as the door opened and the two officers entered. They must’ve been close to arrive so soon. The manager rushed over and spoke to them. Sophie could guess at the broken pieces of information he relayed and was prepared when they marched over to her table, hands close to their weapons, after all, even sitting, Chay was a big man. “You two, step outside so we can have a conversation without disturbing the customers.”
Sophie complied and rose while Chay sat back and said, “No.” Crimson swallowed his pewter irises, and whatever the officers would’ve done next became moot.
“What the hell!” she hissed. “I told you I could handle this without your help.”
Chay shrugged. “Then handle it. No one is stopping you.”
“Ma’am, please step outside.”
Just like that, all their attention landed on her. Chay had removed himself from the equation with a quick mind erase and left her holding the bag. And she couldn’t even blame him because she’d asked for it, not outright, but yeah. Not like he was going to allow the officers to question him.
“Just so you know, I didn’t erase their minds. I suggested they focus their attention elsewhere.”
Son of a bitch. He’d yanked her moral outrage right from under her.
“They’ll remember later, though it won’t matter.”
Because he’d be long gone.
“Ma’am, this way.” The officer nearest to her took her arm. She put on her best face and smiled, then obeyed and followed the officers out of the restaurant into the Florida heat. She gave her version of the incident, explained what she meant when she said she killed someone, gave them her Michigan docket number, her ID, and hotel address. They ran her information through their system and, of course, she came away clean. Half an hour later, she returned to her seat, more than ready to leave the restaurant and the state altogether.
Chay and Ellen seemed cozy enough. He had a row of empty bottles in front of him and her mother had a rosy blush to her sallow cheeks. She wondered what they talked about, if she was the topic of conversation. A migraine stopped her from caring. This night was a period at the end of a sentence—over.
Her ass hadn’t made an indent when Chay stood and gave Ellen a short bow. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ellen. I hope we can do this again soon.” He didn’t spare Sophie a glance and she didn’t watch him go. That would be a bit too cliché.
Her mother said nothing. She bit into the last of her burger and munched on her fries while Sophie’s steak had congealed into leather and her potatoes cement.
She wasn’t a child, so blaming Chay for her outburst wouldn’t work. She took responsibility for her actions. Where was the damn waitress so she could apologize? She spotted her by the POS station and waved, gaining her attention.
“Can I get you a to-go box?” Without Chay here, she wasn’t as chipper.
Sophie glanced at Ellen’s almost clean plate. “No. We’re done, and I’d like to apologize for snapping at you. It was totally uncalled for.” The bland stare the waitress threw at Sophie spoke volumes. Well, she’d said what she had to say. “Can I have the check?”
“The nice, hot guy already took care of it, and doubled my tip.” Smug, she marched away.
Ellen wiped her mouth on the napkin and pushed her plate away. “That was delish.”
Sophie wondered why Ellen didn’t ask about the police and what had transpired with the officers, or what had happened at the cemetery. She didn’t even ask if Sophie had really peed on Ozzy’s grave or the comment about shooting him. Or even the miscarriage. Everything she’d listed deserved a lengthy conversation…especially the miscarriage, but her mother scooted out of the booth with her oxygen tank dangling in the air without a concern in the world. Damn you, Chay. Now would’ve been the perfect time to come clean, but he’d ruined it by interfering where he wasn’t needed. And worse, who knew when the memory would return. Seconds? Days?
Fuck!
Ellen took her time standing. She wobbled and gripped the table.
Sophie took her arm. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah. I’m fine, sweetie.” She latched onto Sophie’s forearm in a weak grip. Her bony fingers like feathers on Sophie’s skin. “Just tired. Let’s get home and we can watch TV.”
She led Ellen outside and helped her into the rental. Once she’d parked in front of her mother’s house, she turned to Ellen. “I’ll stop by tomorrow before I leave town.”
“No. No. No. I thought you’d stay one more night.” Ellen gripped Sophie’s forearm with a surprising amount of strength.
The last thing she wanted was to sleep in her mother’s house. “I’m leaving early.” She took her mother’s hand in her own.
“I’ll ma
ke breakfast for you.”
“Ellen—”
“See, that’s why I want you to stay the night. You call me Ellen, instead of Mom. When did that happen?”
“It happened when you picked your boyfriends over me. I moved out and met Ozzy.” And the rest is history.
Ellen chewed her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. For the one-hundredth time, I’m sorry.” She punched her leg, then the console.
Sophie stared out of the front window, fixed on the full moon hanging low in the sky. “People say I’m sorry and think that absolves them. Fixes all they did wrong. Well, it doesn’t, Ellen. It fucking doesn’t.”
Ellen nodded and smoothed her hands along her thighs. “I get that. Boy, do I get that.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Just give me tonight. One more night with the only child I have left.”
Why did she have to say that? Only child reminded her of Caleb and her miscarriage, which gave her a bird’s eye view from Ellen’s perspective.
“Please, baby. Let me have one night to be a mom.” She laid her hand on top of Sophie’s fist, a fist Sophie hadn’t realized she’d made. Ellen’s hand was cold as if no blood circulated to her extremities.
“All right. I’ll stay the night.”
Chapter Ten
“What happened?” Chay stood next to Scarla’s bed at the farm, counting every black and blue bruise on her face. Only modesty kept him from yanking the sheet off her and counting the bruises on the rest of her body.
“Cage fight.” Kush stood on the opposite side of the bed, arms folded, face grim.
“Cage fight? Cage fight! Some fucking human opponent did this? To her? A Halfing? That’s what you’re telling me?” Rage ignited beneath Chay’s skin. Someone would die a bloody, painful death tonight.
“That’s what I’m telling you.” Kush’s deadpanned voice told Chay the former Archangel of Atonement was on the razor’s edge.
Only One I'll Have (UnHallowed Series Book 4) Page 7
