I'd never felt anything like it before. The pain was real, and yet it wasn't. It washed fire across every nerve ending but the agony of it didn't linger for more than a heartbeat or two. Even so, my limbs trembled with sudden weakness. It was almost as if my strength was being sucked away by the pain.
Or maybe it wasn't the pain. Maybe it was Rhoan, calling on my strength because his own was failing. It wasn't something we'd ever figured possible, because we couldn't share thoughts and, up until now, had never shared the pain of hurts. Though we certainly knew when the other was either emotionally or physically wounded, and we'd always been able to find each other - an ability that had saved us both over the last few months.
If I was feeling this from Rhoan now, he was in trouble. Life or death type trouble.
Panic hit like a club, sucking away my breath.
I didn't know what was happening to him, but I sure as hell intended to find out. I took a deep breath, and staggered to my feet. Only to have my neck caught in a vise-like grip and my back shoved violently against the wall.
"You betrayed us, didn't you?" Berna's face was inches from mine, her expression contorted with the rage that trembled through her entire body. "We trusted you not to say anything but you did."
If she wanted a reply, she wasn't going to get it. Not when her grip was so damn tight breathing had become a sudden luxury. I reached up, grabbed her hand, and pried her fingers away from my neck before thrusting her back and away.
Surprise flickered through her eyes. Despite the fact I'd beaten them both, Berna still had no idea as to my true strength.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I rubbed my neck and fought the urge to run, to find and rescue my brother. Something else had obviously gone wrong - something I needed to know.
"Nerida tried to kill Merle. Only he was ready for it. Waiting for it. That could only have happened if he'd been warned."
And the fact that the kitchen had been bombed then the entire power grid had gone down had absolutely nothing to do with his readiness. These two might have been good rangers but they couldn't have been leaders. They weren't forward thinkers.
I shook my head in disgust. "Let me guess. You were treating Merle as an ordinary target, weren't you?"
"That's because he is a normal target, even if he is a half-breed." She took a step forward, her huge paws clenched and ready for action.
I held up a finger in warning. "Don't even think about it, Berna, because I'll break your fucking neck. Then who will be left to rescue that stupid fox bitch?"
"In an even fight I can take you, wolf."
I snorted softly. "You have no chance, Berna, just as Nerida had no chance."
"A fox-shifter will always beat a half-breed who has not been warned. It is the way of the world. Full bloods are stronger, faster - especially when the half-breed is part human."
"That might be true if we were actually dealing with a normal half-breed. But in the case of Moss and Merle, we're not. They're genetically engineered humans who have been implanted with the DNA of several races. They aren't normal in any sense of the word."
She blinked. "What?"
"I warned you there was more to this. Starr is not only the leader of one of the nastiest cartels in Melbourne, he's also the head of a lab that has been playing in the DNA gene pool for several generations." Her eyes widened as the implications of my words hit her. "Did you honestly think those winged things were a product of nature? Did you really think the zoo was nothing more than a collection of misfits?"
"Well, I've seen stranger things - " She stopped. "Why should I trust anything you say?"
"Because as a former ranger, you were trained by the military to see beyond the surface. You must know things are not what they seem in this place." I shifted my stance from one foot to the other. I needed to get out there, to hunt down my brother and beat the crap out of whoever it was causing him pain. "I don't really care if you believe me or not. But I promise you, if people I care about die because of your interference, you will pay."
"You can't know of our military service. Our files are sealed against public perusal."
"Who said I was public?"
She blew out a breath. "We've walked into the middle of a major operation, haven't we?"
"Yeah, and might well have blown it."
"Fuck." She thrust a hand through her short hair. "What can I do?"
I held up my hand rather than answering. From down the hall came the rough voices - the guards were doing a bed check. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around myself to hide my bloody state. We waited in silence until our turn came, answering accordingly when our names were called out. They didn't ask about Nerida, so they obviously knew her rate.
When the guards moved away, I said, "Help me rescue my partner, then together we'll see what we can do about yours. But if we do get her free, I want you both out of here."
"Your partner has been caught?"
Caught, tortured, and on the move. But not under his own steam. "Yes. I need to get him out of here."
"How? They have guards on all exits at the moment. No one is getting in or out."
"Let's concentrate on one problem at a time."
I threw the blanket to one side, then turned on my heel and walked out. Berna followed, her larger feet slapping heavily against the floor, drowning out any noise my footfalls were making. I pushed open the exit door and stepped into the cool night air. The guard looked at us, but didn't say anything. He was human. He wouldn't have seen or smelled the blood and sweat and fear riding my body.
"Where'd they take Nerida?" I asked, as we moved away.
"To the pens, wherever they are. She's slotted in as the after-dinner entertainment."
"Against those winged things?" I followed the path around to the left, following instinct and that tenuous, fragile thread that linked Rhoan and I.
"Yeah. If she happens to survive that, she wins the right to fight Merle." Berna's gaze was grim when it met mine. "We both know that isn't going to happen, but Nerida can't or won't see reason. Revenge has blinded her."
I opened my mouth to say it was stupid, but the truth was, I could understand it. If something happened to Rhoan, hell itself wouldn't stand a chance against my desire to get even. To make someone pay.
"Which means she won't want to leave, even if we do rescue her."
"She'll leave. I promise you that."
It was a promise she had better keep, or Jack would have both their heads. He didn't have much patience for those who got in the way of Directorate operations.
We padded along the path, heading toward the front of the house. Guards watched our progress, and, after a few seconds, I felt the return of my watcher. This one was a wolf, meaning he would track me better than the first one.
How the hell was I going to rescue Rhoan when I had a tail that would report all suspicious actions back to Starr?
Unless, of course, a little distraction was provided.
I stopped near the end of the house. An old green truck with canvas sides was being loaded near one of the machinery sheds. Though I couldn't see my brother, the link between us said he was there, already inside. As we watched, the last few boxes were loaded, then the back of the truck lifted and locked into place. No one got in the back. Two men got into the cab. Time to get moving.
"We have a tail," I said, as the driver started the truck's engine.
"Where?" Berna's gaze was also on the vehicle, her voice was as soft as mine.
"He's stopped near the last door."
"That's a hundred yards back." Her gaze met mine, speculation rife in her brown eyes. "A wolf shouldn't be able to scent someone that far away when the wind is blowing against them."
I wasn't actually relying on olfactory senses, but she didn't need to know that. "A moot point when this wolf can."
She grunted. "You want me to distract him?"
"Yes, please."
"Consider it done."
She spun and walked back. I waited until the truck lurched into action, then slipped around the corner, wrapped the night around my body, and ran like hell for the back of the truck.
It was faster than I thought it would be, forcing me to leap in a desperate effort to get on board before it got away. I hit the backboard hard enough to rattle it, hooked an arm over the edge of the tray, and hung on for grim death as the road swept by inches from my toes. Not a position I was overly enamored of, so once I'd caught my breath, I twisted, hooked a leg over the tray, and dragged myself inside. My hip caught the end of one box as I dropped down, and I bit back a yelp, barely daring to even breathe as I lay there, listening. The rumble of the engine flowed across the air, joined by the hum of the tires on the road surface. The aroma of spice and leather hung in the air, but the relief that shivered through me was tempered by the fact that Rhoan's scent was heavily interlaced with the sweet, metallic odor of blood. They'd really done a number on him.
Anger rose, anger that was all wolf, all territorial need to protect the pack. Rhoan was my pack, all I had, and whoever had done this to him would pay.
Oh yeah, I could more than understand Nerida's reasoning.
Underneath Rhoan's scent came the twin scents of pine and ocean. Though I could smell them, I couldn't "feel" them, meaning they were human rather than nonhuman. With the way the old truck was rattling, they wouldn't hear me creep forward. Human hearing wasn't that astute.
But I kept the shadows wrapped around my body as I edged around the first box. They might not hear me, but it would only take a glance in the rearview mirror to see me. I was naked, after all, and a naked female of any description tended to catch a man's attention.
Rhoan was about halfway down the truck, thrown on the floor like so much rubbish, his face as beaten and raw as his body. In fact, the only thing that wasn't beaten and bloody was his genitals. It actually looked as if someone had gone out of their way to avoid that area, which was extremely odd.
I dropped down beside him and gently touched his forehead, brushing the sweaty, blood plastered strands of hair from his face. He stirred, and relief filled me. He wasn't as out to it as I feared, even if he didn't immediately open his eyes.
I lightly pressed the com-link in his ear, then leaned close and murmured, "Jack, track this signal. When we are well clear of the gates, stop the truck. Bring medical aid for Rhoan."
I couldn't hear his answer and didn't dare use my own com-link. I'd have to speak a little louder and it just wasn't worth the risk.
After a quick glance at the two humans in the front, I stretched out beside Rhoan and gently cradled him. He stirred again, then opened his eyes.
The brown was unsettling, alien. Not so his smile. "I knew you'd find me."
His voice was the barest of whispers, scratchy with pain, but to my ears it was the sweetest sound ever.
"Isn't that what little sisters are for?" I gently pressed my hand against his bruised cheek as his eyes drifted close again. "Rhoan, who did this to you?"
"Starr. Moss." He shuddered and the pain fury had been keeping at bay rushed through me like a tide. It wasn't just the pain of his injuries. It was the deadly fire of silver.
I licked my lips, trying not to panic. There was no silver knife of any kind stuck in his flesh, nor could I see a bullet wound, but that didn't mean anything. It only took a sliver imbedded under the skin to kill a wolf.
"Rhoan, where is it?"
"Butt." He made a harsh sound that could have been a laugh. "Idea of a joke."
Then it was one I didn't immediately understand. I shifted, and ran my hand across his buttocks. Having been shot by silver myself, my flesh had become extremely sensitive to its presence. If it was under his skin, I'd feel it.
My fingers began to burn in the center of his left cheek. The sliver was about two inches long and needle fine. It was also too deep to drag out with my fingers.
"Take... out," he gasped. "Things going numb."
It was then that I understood the so-called joke. Silver killed werewolves by destroying muscle and nerves and sensation, until the body was locked in pain and the ability to move and breathe was gone, and all that was left was a lingering, horrible death by asphyxiation.
I'd been shot in the arm, and the numbness had quickly traveled down to my fingers and up my neck. The bullet had been removed before any long-term damage had been done, but even so, I'd risked the use of my arm.
Rhoan was shot in the butt, so his loss of sensation was centered around that area - the butt and genitals. He risked the loss of something far more important to a wolf than a mere arm.
It was sick, and the bastards were going to die for it.
I touched Rhoan's cheek, drawing his attention again. "I'm going to have to shift and bite."
He nodded weakly. "Do it."
I took another glance at the men up front. They still weren't paying us any attention, so I called to the wolf within. The power swept over me, through me, until I was once again wolf rather than human. I licked my brother's face - a useless gesture that undoubtedly comforted me more than him - then slid my gaze down his body. In wolf form, the heat of the silver was more intense. The glow of it seemed to leak from his skin, a beacon that pointed to the precise spot.
I didn't let myself think about what I was about to do, just bared my teeth and slashed down into his skin. The taste of flesh and blood filled my mouth, followed swiftly by the fire of silver. I closed my teeth around it and ripped. Felt Rhoan jerk, and his body stiffen. He hissed, vocalizing the pain that reverberated through every corner of my mind.
I turned away and spat out his flesh. But his taste filled my mouth and suddenly I was gagging uncontrollably.
"What the hell was that?" one of the men in the front said.
Somehow, Rhoan found the strength to wrap a hand around my nose and hold my mouth closed. Bile rose up my throat but I managed to swallow it down. My body trembled almost as much as Rhoan's, and I wasn't entirely sure his grip on my muzzle was going to stop the tide for long.
"What was what?" The second voice was gruff, bored.
"That sound. Like someone coughing and throwing up."
"Probably our passenger. Don't worry, with all the broken bones he's got, he ain't going nowhere."
"Nowhere but the farming labs."
They both laughed. Relief slithered through me. Rhoan released my nose, and as I glanced down, the golden haze of changing began to slide over his broken body, snatching his pain from my mind even as it began healing his wounds. He didn't stay long in his wolf form - it was hard to do so when the pain and the wounds are so great - but at least in shifting back, the healing was helped along that little bit further. I shifted shape myself, then wrapped my fingers around his and waited.
I had no idea how long it was before the Directorate arrived. It was probably only a few minutes later, but it seemed like forever before the truck rattled to a stop. There was no fighting, no nothing, just a stationary truck and two silent guards.
Then the backboard opened and Jack was there. "About bloody time," I muttered.
"We couldn't stop the truck any closer to the gates. They would have seen us." He climbed into the truck and hunkered down beside me. "How is he?"
"He'll live." It was Moss and Starr who wouldn't.
"Good." Jack's gaze went to Rhoan. "Why did this happen?"
"I don't know." He coughed, a hacking sound that tore at me. "But he knew who I was."
"How?"
He shrugged, and gave a bitter laugh, "He gave me one small comfort, though. He said I was a good fuck and he'd miss me. At least I haven't lost my touch in that area."
Something inside froze.
I'd heard those words before.
In the Blue Moon, when Rhoan had been snatched for milking and I'd only just started looking for him. I'd gone there to find either of Rhoan's mates in the vague hope they might know something. Liander hadn't been there, but Davern was. He'd been sitting at a table, getting pissed because he'd broken up with some guy. When I'd asked him why it even mattered, he'd repeated that same phrase. That exact same phrase.
That was why Starr's bloodshot eyes had seemed so familiar. Davern's eyes that night were the image of Starr's.
Davern was Starr.
But if that were true, why had Misha said that the ringleader of this whole shebang didn't know who I was? Had he been primed to say that at a certain question? Misha might have skirmished from the edges and found ways to avoid some of Starr's edicts, but in the end, he couldn't totally escape the control Starr had on him. And that control had killed him.
"Riley?"
I blinked at the sharpness in my brother's voice, and glanced down. "It's Davern. Starr is Davern."
"What?" Jack and Rhoan said as one.
"Where the hell did that conclusion come from?" Jack added.
I shrugged. In truth, I probably couldn't justify the statement with facts, but intuition had gotten me out of more trouble than it had landed me in, and I wasn't about to start questioning it now. "When I met Starr for the first time, he felt familiar. There was something about his eyes I'd seen before - and now I remember where. In the Blue Moon, when I was talking to Davern and trying to find Rhoan. I thought at the time his eyes were red because of the booze, but, despite appearances, he didn't really act drunk. He said he'd just broken up with another mate and used that exact term."
"Coincidence."
I glanced at Jack. "Is it? Misha told us several times that the man behind all this was someone in my life. We'd always presumed that meant a lover of mine, but Rhoan's mates are in my life as much as his."
"He's from the Helki pack," Rhoan mused. "They're able to take on multiple human forms, so in theory, it could be possible."
"But it makes no sense that Davern would do that. He had Misha and Talon watching Riley, and Gautier at the Directorate. He didn't need to put anyone on you, much less become your lover himself."
"Maybe Gautier reported that Rhoan needed to be watched, and Davern either had no one else he trusted, or no one who was homosexual." I looked at my brother. "Did he ask you any questions while you were being tortured?"
"No."
"And why not? Because he didn't need to. He might have been suspicious about your identity before our fight, but when he took you to bed, he knew for sure." I grinned faintly. "A man's technique rarely varies, and is usually unique to himself."
"Thought there was something familiar in the way he went about business," Rhoan murmured. "But I was too busy concentrating on where all the weapons were and making sure none of them were missing."
"His bedroom is an arsenal?"
"Yeah. It also has guards, so if anyone but Starr goes near a weapon, they'd be dead in an instant."
"From what we've seen," Jack said. "Starr rarely leaves his foxhole. If that's the case, Starr cannot be Davern."
I frowned at him. "But Starr's foxhole is underground, and we have no idea where the main exit is. So, how can you say he never leaves?"
"Plus, Davern regularly disappeared on business trips." Rhoan's voice was still extremely scratchy yet sounding stronger now that the silver had gone from his body. "It would be interesting to correlate Davern's disappearances with Starr's appearances."
"Which we can do, but not right now. Riley, you need to get back."
Rhoan grabbed my arm. "No - "
I touched a finger lightly to my brother's lips. "Yes. He might suspect who I am, but you gave him nothing to confirm his suspicions. If I leave, he will know for sure, and then neither of us will be safe until he has been taken out. This could be our only chance to stop him and shut down the labs."
"But - "
"No buts." I hesitated, grinning wryly as I added, "I've had more than enough for one night."
His short laugh ended up a groan. "God, don't make me laugh. It hurts too much right now."
I squeezed his hand and looked at Jack. "The driver said they were taking Rhoan to the farming labs. I'm betting if you let this truck continue its journey, you might just discover the missing Libraska lab."
"It's certainly worth a try." He rose, restrained excitement evident in the way he moved. "Do you need help to get back in?"
I shook my head. "I'll shadow and run right past the gate guards."
"Use the out gate," Rhoan said. "No infrared scanners."
I nodded and bent to kiss him. "You get well while I go clean up this mess."
He touched a finger to my nose. "Just keep this out of trouble. I don't want to be climbing out of a sick bed to come to your rescue."
I grinned and looked at Jack. "Are you going to be monitoring the com-link?"
"Someone will be. If you need out, just holler."
I nodded and rose. The medics climbed into the truck as I climbed out, though there wasn't much they could do that Rhoan's own body couldn't now that the silver was out - except ease the pain, which is why I had Jack call them.
I grabbed a water bottle from one of the stretcher bearers and rinsed out my mouth. Jack climbed down from the truck and walked across to where I stood.
"What arc you up to?"
"Me?" I batted my eyes innocently.
He wasn't buying it. "Yeah, you. The werewolf who has a badly beaten brother lying in that truck. Give, girl."
"I don't plan to do anything until you give me the thumbs up that you've found the lab." Which wasn't exactly true, as I planned to try and rescue Nerida.
Not that I actually thought that would be achievable.
"And when and if you do get the thumbs-up?"
"Then I plan to kill the bastards who did that to my brother."
He grinned and patted my arm. "That's my girl."
I shook off his touch. "It's not for you or the Directorate. It's for Rhoan, and me."
"I don't care about the reasons, I just care about the kill. You're going to be a great guardian once you fully accept your fate."
"Don't hold your breath waiting for it, boss."
"Wouldn't matter if I did. I don't actually need to breathe."
Well, yeah. I guess it was a pretty stupid statement to make to a vampire. "I'll leave the link on."
"If you start getting static, turn it off. It probably means they're catching the signal."
"Will do."
I turned on my heel, wrapped the shadows around me, and ran back to Starr's property. The dinner bell was ringing loud and clear as I neared the house. I swore under my breath and headed for my room. The window was still open, so I climbed through, grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my body to hide the blood, grime, and scratches, then headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.
A guard appeared minutes later. "Hey, you, can't you hear the dinner bell? Hurry up."
I hurried. At least there was one good thing about running around in skin - no struggle trying to pull clothes over a wet body. I finger combed my hair as the guard hustled me along.
I expected to be led to the holding pens behind the main arena for our wrestling match, but instead was taken into the arena room itself and led to a table.
Berna was already there. I plonked down beside her and crossed my arms.
"A successful affair?" she asked, as the guard walked to the back of the room.
"Yep."
"Then how the hell are we going to rescue Nerida?"
"I don't think we really can."
Her fury swept over me, its heat blistering. "We had a deal."
"We had a deal to try." I waved a hand around the room. "Do you think either of us have a chance of getting her out with all the hardware and personnel in this place?"
"I can't not try."
There was a desperation in her voice that was more than just concern. More than just a favor owed.
Berna and Nerida, as I'd suspected earlier, were lovers as well as friends.
"We may not be able to get her out, but maybe we can give her the one thing she really wants."
"But in seeking that she may very well die." In the depths of her eyes, a war between fury and fear briefly raged, but the emotions were gone as quickly as they'd appeared, sucked away behind a facade of calm acceptance.
There was no "very well" about it. Nerida was going to die, and we both knew it. And the pain I'd seen so briefly in Berna's eyes only confirmed that. "Look, this is her one chance to fight Merle, and possibly kill him. Do you honestly think she'd appreciate you taking that chance away from her?"
"Probably not. But I can't - "
"You can. You have to. They'll kill us both the minute we try to make any rescue attempt, and I'm sorry, but this operation is too darn important to risk that."
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 rights 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 onto 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 it 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 to 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.
Maybe the weapon had misfired.
Or maybe it hadn't even been loaded.
A freak like Starr wouldn't want loaded weapons within easy reach of his rivals. He wouldn't take the risk. Probably the only live weapons in the room where the ones being held by Starr and his entourage.
The guards finally managed to restrain Berna. Her gaze went to the arena, to the lifeless body lying on the sand, and her shoulders drooped. There was nothing anyone could do for Nerida now. Not even save her.
Movement in the shadowed corners of the room caught my eye. Ethereal wisps stirred in that darkness. The dead were gathering to collect their revenge.
My gaze darted back to the arena. Merle had lowered the weapon and was walking across to the fox-shifter's body. Underneath her chest was an ever growing pool of red-soaked sand. Nerida didn't appear to be breathing and yet the dead were holding themselves to the shadows.
Maybe the fox was foxing.
Merle stopped and kicked her in the side. There was no response. He did it again, harder this time. Still no response. He bent and warily pressed a finger to her neck.
"Not dead," he said, looking up at Starr. "But close to."
Starr waved a hand. "Feed her meat to the zoo carnivores. They will enjoy the sweetness for a change."
"No!" Berna's voice echoed around the room. "She's alive. You can't do that. It's not human."
"There are very few us of here who are human." Starr's dead gaze moved to me, and the chills running down my spine became a landslide. He knew. Who I was, why I was there. The knowledge was right there in his unholy gaze and in the arrogant smile stretching his thin lips. "But if there is someone who cares enough for this person, I will allow another challenge."
He was baiting me, challenging me. I didn't bite. I couldn't, not until I heard from Jack.
"What? So you can allow your coward of a lieutenant to shoot them, too?" Berna shouted, struggling against the grip of the men who held her. "I hardly call that fair."
"This is my arena, my rules. Those who disobey me or try to betray me must expect swift revenge. Justice will never enter the equation."
It was more a warning to the heads of the other cartels who were in this room than a statement to Berna. And it was one I bet everyone in that room took heed of.
I looked back to the arena as Merle walked away from Nerida, the gun held loosely in one hand by his side. His left side, the side closest to Nerida.
She came to life, lunging forward in one of those risk-all movements that only the very desperate make. She snatched the gun from Merle's hand, twisted around as she dropped back to the sand, then pulled the trigger and shot his brains out the back of his head.
