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Massimo and Alessio had been right. Nevio did indeed play with his opponent, kicking and beating him hard, choking him, only to let up and give him time to breathe and recover for another futile attack. Instead of staying on the ground and playing dead like any sane person would have done, the guy attacked Nevio every time, mumbling unintelligent things as he did.
After almost forty minutes, I could see Nevio growing bored, so he aimed a brutal kick against the man’s head. He toppled backward, making the whole cage shake as he collided with the floor and blood spread under him.
Carlotta jumped up, squeezed past me, and rushed outside, followed by Massimo, who gave Diego a sign that he would handle the situation. However, unsurprisingly, Diego still followed them outside.
The referee raised Nevio’s arm above his head as Nevio stared down at his opponent lying at his feet with a look that made it clear he wanted to finish him. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if he had already succeeded. A doctor and nurse rushed into the cage and began treating the guy.
“Maybe you won’t believe it, but this is still the tame version of Nevio’s monster,” Alessio murmured.
I tore my eyes away from the cage to meet Alessio’s gaze.
“Still no second thoughts?”
I pursed my lips. He chuckled and shrugged.
The clang of the cage door drew my attention back to the cage where Nevio was climbing down the steps. He didn’t return to the changing room, though. Instead, he headed straight to the entrance door and went outside. The doc and nurse administered CPR, then let up.
“Another one for the tally list,” Alessio said.
“I’ll check on Nevio,” I said apologetically. “Are you okay here by yourself?”
Alessio gave me a grin. “Don’t worry about me.”
I stalked past Massimo and Diego, who were trying to console a distraught-looking Carlotta. What had she expected? I bet Diego had told her enough horror stories so this fight couldn’t have been a surprise. I wasn’t in the mood for this shit.
I didn’t stop until I reached the back of the building where the dumpsters were, far away from damsels in distress. There I leaned against the wall and stared up at the night sky. It never really got dark in the city. The lights masked the sky's true blackness, making it appear less all-consuming than it was.
I chuckled and ran a hand through my sweaty hair. My heart rate had already come down. Fights like this rarely kept up my adrenaline for long.
They weren’t satisfying. I liked the thrill of the hunt, the panic of an unsuspecting victim, the freedom of torturing someone to death by whatever means that struck my fancy that day. Cage fights were tame entertainment for the masses. They weren’t what I craved. They were like a small tease, a minuscule starter that only made you hungry for more.
Fuck, I wanted to maim and kill. I hoped Alessio and Massimo were still in the mood for a raid after their fights.
Soft steps sounded. My head whirled around, the hunter jumping at the chance of having a quick fix, but my eyes landed on Aurora. She hovered near the corner of the building and watched me with concern-filled eyes. “Are you okay?”
Another carnal need reared its head, one I’d never felt around Rory. One I’d never allowed myself around her. She took a few steps toward me. My eyes took in her elegant shoulders, narrow waist, and defined belly. Then I dragged my gaze back up to her face.
It was so full of innocent worry for me that I got a fucking grip on myself. I really needed to head out for a hunt.
“Is he dead?” I asked.
“Yes. They tried CPR, but it was futile,” Aurora said quietly. There was no judgment in her voice, no drama or pity either.
I nodded. I’d known the last kick would do him in. I’d hoped it would give me a greater sense of satisfaction but no.
Aurora came closer and stopped in front of me, holding out a tissue. “I forgot to pick up a towel on the way. But this is good for his blood on your face.”
“I don’t see where it is,” I said. Not that I cared if I had his blood on my skin. I’d been covered in people’s blood from head to toe before. It was half the fun of torture.
“Do you want me to clean your face?” Aurora asked, holding up the tissue.
“Sure.” I watched her closely as she gently touched the tissue to my cheek, then my chin and forehead.
“Do I have something on my face?” she asked with a nervous laugh, her blue eyes searching mine.
“Always the wrong emotion.”
Her brows pulled together. She lowered her hand with the tissue. I shook my head with a dark chuckle and straightened from the wall, bringing Aurora and me closer. “Always compassion, understanding, concern…” I trailed off because the other emotions I sometimes caught on her face were even more dangerous.
