His expression darkens. ‘Joaquin? You love me, not him.’
‘I do love you. But?—’
‘There are no buts. You love me, end of. If you think for one moment I’m going to give you up and let you go back to him, you must be fucking kidding yourself.’
He’s right, of course. If our situations were reversed, I would fight for him until my last breath. How can I expect him to feel any differently? I don’t say anything as he pulls me to my feet, as he leads me through the woods past more shops, more houses, a primary school with a climbing frame in the playground, fashioned from cut timber. All of it sheltered by soaring trees. I become aware of noise up ahead, cheering and clapping, the occasional roar of frustration.
‘Where are we going?’
‘You’ll see.’ We pass under an archway constructed of logs lashed together. A carved wooden sign hangs from it, shaped like a sword and shield, the shield bearing a familiar red-flower emblem. We follow the path to a clearing, where a circular arena has been carved into the forest floor. Tiers of wooden seating rise around it, the ground inside trodden hard. There are humans in the seats, as well as vampires, clad from head to toe in black, wearing goggles like the others I’ve seen.
Two more vampires are in the ring, wielding swords. Fighting. Their swords have timber blades, I realise, as we get closer. Michael leads us down between the seats to a spot in the front row.
The fighters circle each other, then one darts in, arrow-swift, swinging their sword. The other fighter blocks, pushing their opponent upwards so quickly it forces them into a backflip. I gasp, my hand to my mouth. The crowd cheers, the crack of blades echoing through the clearing.
‘They’re so fast!’
‘Yes, but watch. You’ll notice when they’re about to strike, how their muscles bunch up. It’s a subtle tell. Most humans can’t see it. Unless they’re like us.’
‘What?’
‘Just watch. See if you can spot it.’
I focus on the ring. At first, it’s a blur, the two fighters moving so quickly I can barely make out what they’re doing. Then I see it. A tiny movement, like the smallest of breaths taken before each strike, each darting slash.
Now that I know what I’m looking for it’s easy to see, even when the fight becomes more intense. I wince at one particularly brutal strike, slicing under the arm to the ribs, the crunch of bone audible. The crowd groans.
‘Shit.’
‘Don’t worry. This is just a friendly competition. People lay a few bets but it’s all in fun.’
‘Doesn’t look very friendly.’ The struck vampire has fallen to their knees, one hand to their side.
‘It’s part of training. A real enemy wouldn’t hold back, so we don’t, either.’
‘We?’ My stomach lurches. ‘Are you telling me you’ve fought in this arena?’
‘How do you think I learned the Morningstar?’
‘Are you fucking kidding me? You trained to fight with vampires?’
‘Isn’t that what you’re doing with Varin?’ Michael keeps his voice low. He’s grinning, though. ‘This is how Reapers keep their skills sharp. Human and vampire.’
The crowd roars. The downed vampire sweeps their sword, knocking the other fighter to the ground. Swift as a flash they’re on them, a blade to their throat.
‘Fight’s over. A blade to the throat is the end goal. A vampire can heal from a lot of things, but not from having their head removed.’
‘Holy shit.’ I clutch his arm. People around us are clapping and groaning, money changing hands.
‘Michael?’ One of the fighters comes over to us. ‘Is that you?’
He gets up, shaking the vampire’s hand. ‘Good to see you again, Eddard.’
‘Is it? Last I remember I put your arse in the dust in here. I thought that might have been why you left.’
‘You put my arse in the dust? Was that before or after I almost took your head off?’
I close my mouth, which is hanging open. This place is one revelation after another. I remember my first time in the Safe Zone, how the sky looked, how it felt to see things in the human world. This is ten times as intense.
