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Now she’d tied herself to a highly volatile sport where you could never be certain how the fights would go, or even if they might even be fixed to create deliberate wins and losses. She didn’t know half of the things that really went on behind the scenes.
What she did know, however, was that there was a bigger stir for The Lonely when he strode into the arena wearing a white mask that covered his face and form-fitting black clothes. His aura made Sasha stand up straighter as she tried to follow the movements of the shifter who called himself Cyrus. The shifter whom she didn’t know how to contact except for the vague hope that she’d see him again or to at least keep track of when and where he might fight next.
His opponent swirled in wearing a gaudy gold-and-red outfit and bowed deeply, flaring out his cloak in a way that represented his fight name – The Red Peacock.
He held up his arms, basking in the cheers of the crowd while the reception was… cooler for The Lonely. She didn’t expect anything else considering what he transformed into.
The arena was surrounded by a high wall that protected the spectators from the thrashings of the fighters below. This time, Sasha squeezed herself to the front rather than watching the fight on the screens placed around the arena so people could have a good view of the fight no matter where they were sitting.
Both dragons began morphing, stretching out into their dragon forms. The Red Peacock turned into a gargantuan blood-red monster with a thick, horse-like neck. Whiskers descended from either side of his snout, and there was an elegant kind of savagery in his stance. Not like The Lonely, who transformed into a mottled creature with two powerful hind legs, a sweeping tail, and long, thin, grabbing claws.
Dragons descended from dinosaurs,Sasha thought, watching the two titans smash into each other.Why would they be so dismissing of a dragon who looks closer to them than any other?
She saw it in the reactions of the crowd, in the way their eyes locked onto The Lonely, as if they were watching a train wreck and couldn’t tear their eyes away from it.
Come to think of it, with all the standards of beauty among dragons – the look of the dragons never registered with her. They were always brightly scaled and sinuous, with thick, tank-like bodies – either with four legs or two back ones and the front two encased by wings. Dragons or wyverns.
People in the crowd roared for the Red Peacock, though it seemed this time there might be a few more people betting on The Lonely – though still a pitifully low number. People wanted him to fall, and when the Red Peacock latched his jaws onto The Lonely’s back, a fight for supremacy overtook him.
Sasha watched with her heart in her mouth – it didn’t look like The Lonely was doing as well as before. If anything, it looked like he was struggling – barely able to get a claw in – buckling under the other dragon’s weight.
The screams grew louder, and the match drew out, the conflict spanning much longer than the average fight. The crowd encouraged the fighting with shouts, chants, and even some kind of song, but it was hummed in a language that Sasha didn’t know, giving a creepy feeling to the whole fight.
Sweat beaded on her forehead. Cyrus might legitimately lose. Sasha paled further, feeling ill. Seeing two thousand dollars slipping out of her reach.It’s okay,she told herself.I still have some remaining. I could afford to lose it. They say you should never gamble with more than you need.
Except she wasn’t sure if it was okay, really.
The Lonely appeared to try and limp away, avoiding the Red Peacock’s talons. Jeers and taunts full of hate and bile flooded the arena, all directed toward him. A couple of people even spit on the ground.
She didn’t understand the intensity of their hatred. Where did it come from? Why did it matter what he looked like, what he turned into?
The Red Peacock chased him, his body language confident, certain of a final blow. His whiskers flared; his neck stretched out – teeth scraping the scales of The Lonely. In that moment, The Lonely turned, ducked, and clamped his powerful jaws around the neck of the Red Peacock.
In another moment, the fight was over, as the Red Peacock was forced to tap out. Sasha breathed a heavy sigh of relief, even as the jeers and boos followed the outcome of the fight. The Lonely stepped back, shrinking into his human form. The mask turned toward Sasha.
He saw her. A thrill of excitement rushed through her body from being seen. He turned and strode out of the arena, heading to the underground tunnels that led into it, no arrogance in the walk.
She tried to hide her excitement about winning yet again. She didn’t want to rub it in the faces of everyone there or draw attention to herself from those less savory characters who attended the fights. All she wanted was to slink out of there, go to the succubus, confirm the victory, and confirm that forty thousand dollars was about to make its way into her bank account. She hoped that no one suspicious would tap her on the shoulder and demand why she had that kind of money in the first place, like in casinos when people were winning too much and jeopardizing the casino itself – or like with higher-rated fighters here, who had caps put on betting.
The succubus gave her a sly wink. “Remember, don’t ever boast about this kind of stuff to anyone. It’s very easy for people to take advantage of wealth when they see it or harm others for it. This includes those in the supernatural world too. You’ll find desperate people, savage people down here.” Her eyes slid toward a tattered-looking human in the crowd who had more than a few other chilly stares directed his way. “I advise that you don’t come back here for a while if you can avoid it.”
Sasha couldn’t promise that. But she nodded and smiled anyway and thanked the succubus for her kindness. She didn’t get very far though until someone in the crowd grabbed her arm, someone with a porcelain-white mask and a slender arm. “Hey,” the person said, “I promise I won’t bite. But I’d like you to come with me.”
“Why?” Sasha attempted to shrug off the grasp, but the grip was alotstronger than anticipated. “I just wanna go home.”
The figure in the mask gave a slow nod. “You will. I am taking you to meet my brother. I believe you’ve already met him. In the subway. He mentioned it.”
Brother?Sasha blinked. This person claimed to be the sister of The Lonely? Perhaps it was a clever trap. Clever enough for Sasha, anyway, who so wished to see the man again. Either way, Sasha stopped resisting and allowed the stranger to steer her through the crowd and beyond two doors. The second door led to stairs and a narrow tunnel – until eventually she was led to a small, well-put-together office. The office was locked on the inside and opened by The Lonely himself. Sasha examined the two – the woman’s mask was smaller, but of a similar vibe as The Lonely’s.
“Okay,” Sasha said. “I’m intrigued. Why exactly am I here again?”
“Masks off.” The woman took off hers, and Cyrus revealed his face. Sasha wasn’t sure what to expect – but his face looked evenbetterthan the dreams she’d had about him. Dreams where she imagined taking off his mask in some quiet, sunny meadow. Birdsong in the trees, petals and dandelion fluff floating past her.
Fantasies that were better suited to her teenage crush days, but still popped up here and there, especially when she felt a keen stab of loneliness that made her mind start picturing what it might be like to be a person who wasnot lonely. Which she supposed was ironic on a level, given Cyrus’ fight name.
She saw a faint resemblance between the two. Same intense blue eyes and high cheekbones, but then their looks diverged. Cyrus had dark hair, while the woman had paler brown hair, closer to red. Both of them had a similar stance, standing with hands clasped in front.
“Okay, so I’ll try and explain why you’re here.” The sister gave a brief smile. “But before we get to that, let’s have the names. My name’s Aleera, by the way. Yours is Sasha? And I believe you’ve already met my brother.”
