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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. As bits of bone and blood and gray matter sprayed across the sand, she slumped back down and didn't move. Merle fell like a stone beside her.
A wisp that seemed little more than steam but was much, much more began to rise from her body. The dead moved in to collect their prize.
I closed my eyes against the sudden sting of tears. Nerida had her revenge - or part of it, at least. But heaven - or whatever it was that fox-shifters believed in - was now beyond her reach. Hell was her resting place. A hell that involved an eternity of torment from the ghosts of those she'd killed.
"No!" Berna's scream seemed to echo around and around the arena. No one moved, no one said anything. Not even me.
"Well, that was unexpected." Amusement rode Starr's voice. Maybe he had other Merles in the making, so it didn't matter if he lost this one. He was still staring at me, challenging me. There was no sign of anything other than the certainty that he would get what he wanted in those soulless depths. What he wanted was me to fight. But my fate would not be death, like Nerida, but something far worse. A one-way trip to the hell of the breeding pens.
But even as I sat there, returning his arrogant, overconfident, insane gaze, the wolf within rose snarling to the surface. This bastard had beaten me, drugged me, and all but destroyed my white-picket-fence-and-babies dream. Worse still, he'd beaten my brother to a pulp. Not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed it.
I needed revenge. Needed it. Now.
I might fear the fate I saw in his eyes, and I certainly feared the man himself, but I'd be damned if I could sit here any longer cowering like a newborn pup. If I was going to fight, then I'd damn well do it my way. It might not change the outcome, but at least I'd go down fighting.
"Are there any other grievances I should know about?" he continued. "Is there anyone else who feels the need to challenge my lieutenant or myself?"
The wise remained silent.
No one would ever accuse me of being wise.
I rose to my feet. The gun barrel rested against my neck again, so cold against my skin. I twisted, punched the man holding the weapon in the balls, then grabbed the gun as he went down. A dozen other weapons were instantly aimed in my direction.
I dangled the useless weapon from a finger and smiled. "Tell them to fire, Starr. I dare you."
He didn't take up the dare. Surprise, surprise. "What do you want?"
"I challenge that loose-assed prick, otherwise known as Moss, to a fight. Knives or guns or bare knuckles, as long as we are both equally armed." My gaze went to Moss. "Or is your remaining lieutenant as scared of a girl as your first one was?"
Moss thrust angrily to his feet. Like that was a surprise. "You want a fight, you'll get one." His gaze swept me. "When I finish beating you, I shall enjoy fucking you."
