A loud sound comes from the bovine when Slash’s enormous fist finds its target somewhere around kidney-level—though I have no idea if that fucker’s kidneys are there or somewhere else. I’m having enough trouble learning the animalian and demon anatomy of my guys, much less other supe species. Slash snarls when the guy reels back, pressing forward in a flurry of punches that are definitely hurting the former champion. Since his hands are like a pair of damned cement blocks, I don’t know how the Minotaur is still standing. He must have, like, armor or something.
Cheers and shouts echo off the high ceiling of the pit area as Slash continues to pummel the asshole, but it gets even louder when there’s a flash of light in the ring. Squinting as it fades, I try to work out what the fuck is going on and once I do; I gasp. He’s fully shifted into a fire-breathing bull, his eyes filled with rage. Panic races through me because I know Slash can’t fully shift on land, but it stops short when our guy goes with a better option.
Holy Mother of Medusa, Slash in full demon form is easily four times bigger and alotscarier.
Battle Royale
Slash
It is good that this chamber is large enough to allow my full demon visage. The others cannot hear the trash talk of this side of beef from their spot in the raucous crowd, but I can. His vile statements regarding my brothers—without even being intelligent enough to realize who we are—activated my darkest parts more quickly than normal. That is impressive, given my typical participation in competitive demon events, but it is not as if I do not know why.
This walking filet threatened the little demon and Zavida.
Roaring with the fury of a vengeance demon unleashed, I tower over the Minotaur with my razor-sharp teeth. In full transformation, my skin is a dark charcoal gray and my eyes flash with the red fire of justice. My caliphate brothers have very different horns and tails because of our animals, and I am not an exception to this rule. Twin horns shaped like white fins adorn my head and the long tail has both dorsal and caudal fins, just like my shark. I swish the sharply bladed tail around, clearing the space around me as they avoid the fins that, in this form, could cut off their limbs.
The giant bull bellows, and huffs steam, letting me know it is going to charge. Digging my feet in, I ready myself for the attack. This ridiculous fool believes he will toss me like a matador in Pamplona, but that will not be the case. Once I am set in my position, the difference in our strength and power will become evident. But I must be patient and keep my counsel rather than allowing him to continue to get under my skin.
“Here it comes, demons and guests…. Moab is preparing for the final blow!”
I snort, the corner of my mouth lifting at the announcer’s claim. He has no idea who he made a bargain with and somehow, that’s the least of his worries. I am going to destroy his best fighter so thoroughly that it will break up this entire fight ring. His benefactor in the back is going to be furious and it will not be at me. Or… if he wants to live, it won’t.
“Take him out, big guy!”
Fire licks across the ring, and the Minotaur rears back before shooting forward at a gallop. The sound of the little demon yelling from the sidelines, so careful not to say my name lest someone identify us, makes my sharkandmy demon determined to defeat my foe. I would have shredded this bovine before, but now my supernatural influences want to show Kit that we can be trusted to protect him. That alone is making the magic burn under my skin and my magic swell into a dark ball between my palms.
My kind are not to be trifled with, particularly those of my line, and when the angry cow is within range, I unleash a torrent of magical fury at it. It makes a squealing grunt of pain as the force of my power smacks into it and sends it sailing through the air to slam into the barrier around the ring. Fire shoots in every direction as the beast slides down the magical wall like water, and I duck the flames as I stalk across the space.
Like my animal, my focus is singular and my drive is focused on one outcome—annihilation.
The crowd goes wild and I ignore the noise of the on-lookers. I’m certain the line has shifted and bets are being placed, but I cannot worry about the fools who came here to waste their time and money for demons like the Gemini. My brothers and I would not even be here if not for the impending coup—nor would any demon who wanted to maintain a reputation in Hell.
“A lucky shot from the contender, but Moab is most powerful on the ropes!”
Scoffing under my breath, I stop just short of the injured bull. He is struggling to stand, obviously feeling the effects of his head being slammed into the barrier by my magic. I do not enjoy seeing this supposed ‘mighty warrior’ so crippled with one blow, but the demon running this fight club oversold his champion. The Minotaur might have been able to defeat the dregs he’s been battling, but he is no match for demons or shifters of my level—even without my training.
I stomp forward, grabbing the bull by its horns and swing it into the air above my head. Slowly, I turn around and give the audience a dark, sharkysmirk of satisfaction. I want them to be watching what happens if they try to attack me or my caliphate, so I pause for effect as the idiot above me struggles futilely. The Prince catches my eye, nodding slightly in approval, and with a roar of triumph, I slam the mythical onto the ground. It’s hard enough to shake the entire room, and the crowd gets quiet for a split second.
That doesn’t last for long, because Moab does not even attempt to crawl out of the bull-shaped hole in the floor. I sniff in derision, looking down to make certain the asshole is dead. He stays still for another minute, and the bell sounds a victory klaxon. The announcer rushes in as the barrier falls, ignoring me to find his fallen comrade.
Smirking, I shrink down to normal size, letting the demon fade as I head for my brothers. I push my way through the cheering demons and their guests until I reach them, anxious to ensure that they are secure. When I get to them, Salem rushes over with a jacket that I recognize as Jasper’s, holding it in front of me. I frown, not sure what he’s doing, batting his hands away in annoyance.
“Dude,” he says as he grabs my arm. “You didn’t strip before the demon. All we have left of yourclothesis your freaking shirt.”
I blink as understanding smacks into me. The little demon is hiding behind Oriel, who is desperately trying not to fall apart in laughter. My jaw grits as I curse my temper, and I sigh in irritation. “Jasper’s coat will not fix my problem entirely, Salem.”
Xerxes and Anton are huddled together, the two of them looking like they’re going to explode if they don’t laugh soon. Zavida is much the same, but he’s hiding behind his tails to stay out of my eyesight. The Prince finally rolls his eyes—despite amusement dancing in them—and growls, “Use the coat to tie around the front for now, Slash. We’ll find something to cover you better somewhere in this fucking cesspit, so the kid can come out of the crow’s tail feathers.”
“He doesn’t have feathers right now!”
The indignant retort, muffled by Oriel’s back, hits me just right and before I can stop it, I burst into laughter. My brothers look at me wide-eyed, unused to hearing me express my humor quite so publicly, but I cannot help it. Kit often does things that make me respond in unusual ways, and this is no exception. His inability to see people naked without turning into a tomato, and the crow demon helping him hide from my dick are hilarious, especially in our current situation.
“What the fuck is with you, Scrum?” Jasper mutters as he shakes his head. “This is hardly the time to be jolly.”
I can’t stop guffawing, so I ignore my old friend as I take the jacket from Salem. He helps me secure it as best we can by knotting it on my lower back, then he calls to the little demon.
“You can come out now, Kit Kat. The one-eyed whale is out of view.”
“I am a great white, Salem, not a whale.”
