And if she tried, I’d have to stop her. She knew too much now. If they caught her, and she blabbed…
My gut churned at the thought of killing Berna, but I’d come too far now to let it all fall apart at the last hurdle.
Berna made a low sound in the back of her throat. Whether it was anguish or acceptance was anyone’s guess.
“If she fights Merle, maybe she can put her ghosts to rest.”
“I thought you said the ghosts wanted her death?”
“The ghosts here, yeah. I meant the ghosts holding her to such a destructive path.”
Berna shook her head. “There will be no pleasing them until both men are dead.”
I looked at her. “And if I promise to finish what she starts?”
Berna’s gaze raked me. “I think maybe they might be satisfied. I doubt she will be, though.”
“Isn’t one revenge better than nothing?”
“She’s obsessed. Sensible thinking is not exactly her high point at the moment.” She shifted, staring at me. “How do you plan to help her beat those creatures?”
“By giving her the key to their destruction.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know that?”
“Because I’ve fought creatures very similar.” Only mine had been a mix of griffon, cat, and human with arching gold and brown wings.
Berna didn’t ask where, which was good, because I wasn’t about to tell her.
The doors down the far end of the room opened, and with all the ceremony of a king entering his domain, Starr swept in and took his seat. But his gaze ran around the room, as if seeking something. When it stopped on me, I knew he’d found it. I was too far away to see if there was any surprise in his eyes, but the smile that touched his lips had a shiver running down my spine. I had no idea what that smile meant, but it sure as hell couldn’t be good.
Waiters appeared, dropping platters of food on every table. I ate because I had to eat, because I’d need the strength, not because I actually wanted to.
As we ate, a solitary man walked into the arena. Once again the babble of voices died, and excitement rushed into the void. Starr’s guests had a taste for blood sports, and that’s certainly what was provided in the arena.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The bald guy’s voice rang out loud and clear across the vast arena, and the soft clink of cutlery died. “There has been a change of plans tonight. We will not be offering the wrestling, as originally planned.”
A disappointed murmur rolled through the crowd—though it wasn’t something any of the fighters added to.
“Instead, we have the possibility of a death match. But only if the fighter survives a match with our Kayvan.”
Another murmur went though the crowd, but this time it was filled with anticipation. I had to hope that Jack found the lab, because then he could get here and clean up these sickos.
“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s fighter.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand, and the far side section of the arena began to slide up. From it came two men and Nerida.
“This fighter, Nerida Smith, was caught trying to assassinate Alden Merle.”
Laughter trickled around the arena. Even the announcer smiled before continuing. “She has been sentenced to death via the arena. If she survives the Kayvan, she will meet her target in a battle to the death.”
It was all so very formal. All so very melodramatic. These people were basically sanctioning a murder and no one seemed to give a damn.
The cage came down, then the announcer said, “Release her ropes. Release her competition,” before beating a hasty retreat.
Nerida rolled her shoulders, shook her arms, as the doors near Starr began to open. From out of the shadows came the thin, blue humanoids with the butterfly wings. Anticipation trembled through the air, touched with a lust that was both sexual and blood-based.
The blue things halted just past the door and lightly fanned their wings. As the lights highlighted the jewel-like colors, one of them began to fan harder and, with gentle grace, rose in the air. The other walked forward, his wings fanning slowly.
They were repeating exactly their actions from the first fight. Maybe that was their pattern, what they did each and every time. And if I’d noticed it, surely Nerida—who was military trained—would.
“When the fight starts,” I said softly to Berna, “stand up and tell her to attack the wings.”
“What?”
“Trust me. It’s her only chance at beating those things.”
“So why don’t you tell her that?”
I looked at her. “Do you really think she’ll trust anything I say?”
Berna sniffed. There was no point in answering simply because we both knew the fox-shifter would do the exact opposite of anything I suggested.
Unlike the previous woman we’d witnessed in the arena, Nerida didn’t attack, just waited as the one creature walked toward her and the second soared high.
“Now,” I said to Berna.
The bear-shifter thrust to her feet. “Nerida, their wings!”
Footsteps rushed toward our table and air sighed its warning. I spun, grabbing the butt of the rifle before it cracked Berna’s head open, stopping the blow in its tracks. The guard cursed me.
“Two against one hardly seems fair,” I said mildly. “A little advice surely can’t hurt.”
The guard didn’t answer, his gaze going instead to the other end of the room. I twisted, saw Starr shake his head. That smile seemed larger. The guy was a freak, no doubt about it.
The guard stepped back, though he remained within rifle-butt range. I turned and watched the fight.
The second creature flicked his wings and dove downward even as the first creature leapt into action. Nerida dropped low to avoid his blow, then swept with her foot, knocking the blue thing off his feet. With the air screaming under the force of the other creature’s plummet, Nerida rolled out of his path and back to her feet in one smooth action. Claws raked the air, barely missing her stomach. As the creature soared upward again, she ran and leapt high, landing on the creature’s back. It screamed—a high sound that was neither animal nor human. Nerida grabbed the base of the wings and drew her legs up underneath her, hanging on so tightly as the creature bucked and twisted that the white glow of her knuckles was evident even from where we sat.The first creature screamed and rose into the air. Nerida gave it a glance, then, after positioning her feet a little more, pushed up and twisted backward hard and fast.
Wings are such delicate creations. No matter how strong the body underneath, a wing can so easily be crushed. Or destroyed. I knew that from experience. These wings were no different from the ones I’d ripped apart.
With an odd sort of popping sound, the wings tore free from the blue creature’s flesh. As blood and wings and screams filled the air, the creature—with Nerida still riding its back—plummeted toward the sand. As the other creature swooped to the aid of its mate, Nerida leapt. Not for the fast-approaching ground but onto the back of the remaining winged creature.
It didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it was too busy trying to stall the dive of its mate. Maybe it simply wasn’t bright enough to realize it, too, was about to have its flight skills clipped.
Either way, Nerida grasped the wings and tore them free a second time. Then she leapt off the creature’s back, hit the ground running, and finished off what she’d started with the wings.
Very quickly, very neatly.
The crowd was silent for several heartbeats, then applauded wildly. Anticipating the bloodbath that was to come.
My gaze went to Starr. He was leaning forward in his chair, talking to Merle. After several nods, Merle rose and made his way toward the arena.
The crowd became silent again. Nerida stood in the middle of the arena, breathing a little faster than normal but seemingly otherwise unperturbed.
“Any advice on beating this one?” Berna said softly.
“I’ve never seen him fight. I don’t know what he can do.” Or what Starr had ordered him to do.
But one thing was sure—it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Starr not only played dirty, he played to win. I had no doubt his lieutenants would, too.
Merle leapt over the railing and dropped onto the sand. Nerida flexed her hands, but otherwise didn’t move. Merle studied her for a moment, an arrogant smile touching his lips. “You will die, little fox. You have not a hope against me.”
“Vengeance is a powerful motivator against the odds,” she said. “Never dismiss it out of hand.”
“Oh, I won’t. But vengeance should never outweigh common sense.” With those words, he took out a gun from behind his back and shot her. Red bloomed across her chest, and just for a moment, shock and anger touched her features. Then she dropped like a boneless sack to the ground.
Berna surged to her feet, crying out in denial and rage. The guard behind us stepped forward, gun butt raised. I twisted, knocking him off his feet, then froze as the muzzle of another gun dug into the back of my neck. Call me strange, but I liked my brains just the way they were.
Three guards jumped on Berna. She fought them, grabbing at their weapons, trying to claim one. More guards jumped into the fray, overwhelming her with sheer weight of numbers. As she went down, I heard a click, and realized someone had tried to fire a gun. In that mass of bodies it could have been deadly. But something had gone wrong, because there was no blood, no gore, no moans of pain.