At least, I think it’s a ‘him’; I’m not sure in this demon form.
“Demons and guests,lookat the size of this demon! You know he's a contender; make some noise to encourage an actual player into the ring!”
My eyes bug out when the guy points at Slash—of course—and the shark demon grunts in irritation. We were hoping to lie low on this disgusting level, but there’s little hope of that if we refuse to play along. The crowd is cheering now, screaming their support for the enormous shifter who treats me like china to jump in that death circle. My anxiety skyrockets within seconds, and the Kitsuné grips my hand tightly.
“Kit, if he has to do this, Slash will be fine. You haven’t seen—or don’t remember from the class—but he is the fiercest warrior, even in half-shifted form.” Zavida gives me a serious look as I force myself to nod. His expression softens as he leans in to whisper in my ear, “It’s okay to care about him; we all do. But I promise, out of anyone besides the prince, he’s the best choice.”
When I turn to look at my ‘trainer’, he’s muttering with Jasper low enough that I can’t quite catch it over the din. Jasper looks pissed, and I don’t blame him this time. We don’t need Slash getting injured and we don’t need the attention if he refuses. It’s a Catch-22, and the prince is left weighing two shitty options. The other guys stay quiet, which I assume must be their default when command decisions are required.
I think I’m witnessing how the caliphate operates when they are in ‘battle mode’.
They finally break their little tête-à-tête and Slash turns to the much smaller demon ref. “I will win one round, then cede my spot to the demon of your choosing.”
The ref looks at the shark shifter as if he’s insane. “Moab the Great is the undefeated champion. You won’t last long enough to consider a replacement. But if you found the grace of victory, I cannot amend the rules of the ring to allow you to leave before defeat.”
Suddenly, Oriel is standing next to the big guy, his dark eyes glittering with intelligence. He looks the lower demon up and down, then scoffs. “There is no visible contract stating that and my friend will not shake on that bargain. You’re not a high enough rank to compel him to do so, either. Your options are to shake on his deal—since fighting until defeat in this game equals death, and he is not agreeing to that—or we walk. Your sponsors running the line in the crowds will be displeased, I think.”
I follow the crow’s gaze to several demons running around talking to people in the audience, obviously taking bets. The thief clocked every single one in our immediate area, and the ref’s expression turns nervous as fuck. Jasper smirks at the guy, his arms crossed over his chest as he waits for the response to O’s offer. This is clearly my emo friend’s area of expertise because the prince didn’t bat a lash when he took over.
My guys are working together like perfectly designed cogs in a machine, and it’s fascinating.
“Are you afraid your fighter will lose?” Anton asks casually. There’s a soft golden glow around him and I feel the magic brush against my skin as he sends it toward the ref dude. “It will damage your reputation equally if you chicken out now.”
Remembering what they said in the elevator, I realize that he must be using powers from his Pride lineage to push the guy. It’s working, I think, because now the asshole is rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze darts to some of the bet takers. I feel a tickle on the nape of my neck and turn slightly to figure out where it’s coming from. My eyes finally land on a big, ugly demon that I can’t categorize standing against a rocky column. I think this guy’s the boss, so I carefully shift just enough that I can tug Jasper’s jacket hem.
His eyes flash with his dragon as he looks at me and I cut my gaze to the Hulk-like demon watching the whole pit. The corner of his mouth quirks a tiny bit, and he nods ever-so-slightly before turning back to Oriel. I have to hide my grin when the look passes from one of my guys to another and I have to suppress the urge to fist pump. I think I just accomplished my first ‘eyebrow conversation’.
Fuck,yeah, Kat—you’re a rockstar.
I’m seldom that complimentary of myself, but having them all next to me is having a weird effect on that. Salem’s praise, Zav’s warm palm, and the reassurance all the guys have been giving me are definitely helping me find myself. That, too, interrupts the flow of my anxiety and fear about Slash competing, and I take a deep breath. If anyone can do this, it’s the big guy who battles for sport, right?
“Fine,” the grumpy ref says after a few moments. “I agree. You may leave the ring once you defeat my champion. You are not bound to the usual rules of play in our game.”
Something about the way he says that pricks my brain, and I look at Slash as he nods. He’s already locking himself down, getting ready to fight as he waits for the demon to lead him to the front. Jasper’s jaw is set as well, and he follows his general as we all move. Biting my lip, I let go of Zav’s hand, moving over to Oriel so I can speak to him quietly.
“I don’t like that bargain.” The crow grimaces, looking at me as he tilts his head. “I know I’m not… you know… versed in this stuff yet, but it’sbotheringme. Why say ‘not bound by the rules of our game’ specifically, rather than not ‘bound to fight to the death’ or whatever? It feels wrong, O.”
Oriel looks thoughtful, his eyes landing on the boss demon, then coming back to me. “You might be right, KK. Your demon side is flaring because it senses a bad bargain—that’s a good thing, but also a bad thing for our friend.”
“I know,” I whisper. “That’s whyyouneed to tell Jasper to yank him before this goes sideways.”
An alarm sounds, and I whirl around to look at the ring. The muscled Minotaur is huffing through its bovine nose, his expression vicious as he gets into his stance. Slash ignores the dude, unbuttoning the rest of his dress shirt, then grinning at me with his sharp teeth. He tosses the jacket and shirt at me, which I scramble to catch, then winks. I swallow hard when I realize we aren’t going to stop this now, and I have to watch him get hurt.
I want to kill the fucking demons hosting this damn party myself, but I feel Rogue’s twins want that honor.
Gritting my teeth as I clutch the big guy’s clothes, I try to slow my panicked breathing so I don’t overload. Luckily, the scent of Salem and Oriel surrounds me as they position themselves close enough to touch me. That helps ground my anxiety and I lick my lips. I can do this; I can watch this violent bullshit and cheer for Slash because he’s going to win. There’s noother option—if he doesn’t, I don’t know which one of my caliphate is going to decimate this entire damn space first.
“Slash does not lose, shrimp,” Jasper mutters to my left. “He was born for battle.”
The Prince’s comment is oddly comforting, and I nod, looking at him with fearful eyes. I don’t enjoy sharing that emotion with him because he’s likely to tease me. However, this time, he simply reaches down and ruffles my hair. My eyes widen at the touch, distracted enough that I miss thedingthat signals the start of the fight. Once I’m settled again, I watch Slash dance around the circle with surprising speed as he assesses the Minotaur’s style.
“He’s figuring out how the guy fights,” Salem murmurs. “We weren’t paying close attention before and if Slash is gonna kick this cow’s ass, he has to anticipate its moves.”
I wrinkle my nose up at him with a tremulous smile. “I’ve seen Rocky, too, chef.”
This time it’s the panda’s turn to gape, and he narrows his gaze on me for a brief second. “You, KK, might be a brat. I’m not sure how well that will go for you later on.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I spin back to the grunting fighters, my attention on the quiet guy who talks to me when we’re alone. His blunt observations are always helpful to me, and I didn’t even mind him carrying me those times—much. Being around the shark is easy and relaxing, unless he’s smothering me with nutrition demands.
