Ripper(134)

The king stared at the wolf with distaste. “Kelsey, when you kill the alpha, take his heart. Carve it out if you have to. It’s tradition. If they force us to follow their rituals, they can handle it when we cut out their hearts.”

The king leapt up gracefully, holding onto the railing and pulling himself into the stands. I glanced behind my back and saw him taking his place on a raised throne. The queen sat to one side and Quinn on the other. The dark-haired faery leaned over to talk to the king, the duo always whispering, always plotting as though they were two halves of a whole. Jamie sat with Zack, both paler than normal. I took it all in, some voice inside telling me to look so I didn’t get distracted later.

The arena was smaller than I’d imagined, roughly half the length of a football field. The sides of the arena were made from wood and there were various things sticking out. They looked like something you would find in a dungeon. I supposed the vampires used them for training purposes. There were wooden spikes in two places at the front and back of the arena, and on the sides there were places with hooks and long, probably silver chains attached to them.

There were, perhaps, two hundred people crowding the stands, most of them werewolves, but I recognized others. Nathan stood beside Liv, their bodies pressed to the railing. Liv had been crying, her face puffy, but she wasn’t hiding it and she hadn’t cared to reapply her makeup. Scott had managed to skip his Hooter’s night. He sat back, watching with hooded eyes. He’d probably be happy to see me lose. The rest of the people were sitting except two.

I glanced into the stands and Helen Taylor calmly stood up, holding hands with her remaining child. After the briefest of moments, the party around her stood and I knew I was looking at the deer herd. They stood and stared down at me, calmly requesting I finish the job I’d been hired to do.

“Yes, cara,” Marcus’s voice said in my head. “You’re their only chance at justice. If you die, no one will care about them. They’re prey animals with no one to defend them. You are their champion.”

I was, I realized as I turned to face the man who had killed Joanne Taylor because she’d had the audacity to stand up to him. He’d killed women to further his plot against the king. They’d been pawns to be used and discarded as he saw fit. He didn’t care that they’d had dreams and plans. A righteous anger began to burn through me and I felt that beast rise. I didn’t fight her this time. I melded with her, letting her rage mate with mine until we were one. My need for justice meshed neatly with her thirst for revenge.

I heard the king speaking, explaining the argument between us. McKenzie was there as well. This was a fight between Vampire and the Packs, he stated, and when the fight was over, the side that lost would accept the outcome. The beast inside me wanted to argue with that statement. This had nothing to do with Vampire. This was an internal quarrel. The beast inside me was a wolf and she craved acknowledgment. She would howl and fight and kill until those bastards acknowledged her dominance. The wolf understood only strength and I had that in spades.

The king asked the wolves if they were ready. Castle howled, the sound filling the arena with the promise of his will. My wolf responded with a surge of adrenaline. Inside me she paced and twitched, but I stood my ground, my feet sinking into the warmth of the sand. McKenzie asked if Vampire was ready and I did as the voice in my head urged. Marcus calmly explained what was expected of me. I was a gladiator, thrown to the wolves as Marcus had been thrown to the lions. I saw it in my head, the image as clear as day. My connection with Marcus was so much stronger when I opened my mind to him that I could read his thoughts as easily as he read mine. He was thinking about his introduction to the arena. He’d been thrown to the lions, but the predator inside him had risen that day and the lions hadn’t had a chance.

“The wolves have no chance, either.” Marcus chuckled in my head. “You are more wolf than any of them have met, cara mia. Prove it to them.”

I held the cestus over my head as Marcus had when he’d fought as a full-fledged gladiator. It was the sign of a professional, cool and prepared. It made Castle stop his preening for a moment. He sneered at me across the sand that separated us and all was silent for a moment. The king gave the order and chaos broke loose.

The crowd screamed as the three wolves changed forms. The two betas knelt in the sand, their limbs flowing around them, changing shape in easy movements. They were just the preview though. Castle didn’t need to kneel and think about his form. He began to run toward me. He started on two feet, running with powerful strides toward his prey. His change was so quick, so effortless, that one moment he was a man and the next he leapt through the air, a powerful pitch-black wolf coming for me. I stood my ground, waiting for the right moment. He came toward me, snarling through the air, my neck in his sights.