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He’s not dead, though. That injury will heal in time, but this contest isn’t over until one of us is dead. I grab the broadsword, heft it up, and bring it down on the ravager’s neck. His head rolls a few feet away, staring at me with sightless eyes before his body starts to turn black.
As is the way with all Dark Fae, he burns up in a matter of seconds, turning to a pile of ash, which eventually disintegrates completely.
The spectators roar their approval, and more money exchanges hands. I toss the sword away and reach behind my back to undo the leather that had been holding my other arm hostage. Twisting my neck, I take in the large slice down my arm and grimace that I can actually see bone.
I roll my shoulders and walk out of the pit. Someone tosses me a towel, and I wipe as much blood off my chest as possible before I pull my shirt back over my head. It’s a modern T-shirt from the First Dimension, pale blue and made of soft cotton. Blood from my wounds immediately soaks through it.
Oh well.
Outside the pit sits a large bar where I order a beer. It tastes like horse piss, but the Dark Fae in this dimension know how to make alcohol that will actually get me shit-faced. I inhale the first mug and slam it on the scarred wooden top, demanding another.
Glancing around, I notice a female ravager a few seats down. She’s hot in a “I’ll cut your balls off if you offend me” kind of way. Her hair is in war braids, but she’s got a great pair of tits plumped up in a tight leather vest.
She appraises me, her teeth sunk into her lower lip, before nodding at the empty stool beside her. I’m ready for that type of invitation. I grab the newly poured beer and turn to move but come to a dead stop when I see Carrick standing there.
His gaze moves over me, his lip curling in disgust. “What in the fuck have you been doing?”
“Fighting,” I reply, and then nod over his shoulder. He turns to see the ravager watching us both. “Going to be fucking soon.”
Carrick glances at the fae and then back to me. “I think Zora might be in trouble.”
My stomach tightens upon hearing her name, but I ignore it. Pushing past my brother, I say, “Don’t give two fucks.”
His hand latches onto my arm—the one with the cut—and I wince against the pain. But I don’t pull loose because something in his eyes causes me to go still.
“Her dogs appeared in our house,” he says, his hand falling away.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, they just appeared. One minute, not there, the next, there.”
“Are they okay?” It’s not that my concern is only for the dogs, but their condition will determine my next questions.
“They seem fine. Freaked out, but fine. I immediately went to Zora’s house, and she’s not there.”
Unease prickles my skin, but there could be an easy explanation. “She probably had to do something and merely wanted you to watch them.”
Carrick cocks an eyebrow at me, and yeah… that’s stupid. Zora would never do that without explanation.
“I thought she might be with you,” Carrick says, watching me carefully for my reaction.
“I can assure you she’s not, nor will she ever be, so don’t make me the first one you come to when you’re worried about Zora.”
He blinks in surprise at my bitterness before his face hardens. “Seriously?”
I stare back at him resolutely.
“Fine,” Carrick snarls. “Finley and I will find her ourselves.”
My brother vanishes and I’m left with a blessed moment of no hard feelings. He’s gone. Zora’s gone. I vanquished my opponent and I’m going to get laid very soon.
But then fear creeps in that something bad has happened to Zora. She’d have never dumped her dogs with someone if it weren’t dire.
And if Zora dies, so goes the god who governs life and death. It could throw the universe into chaos. I should probably help Carrick and Finley… for the safety of the world.
“Fuck,” I mutter, my eyes cutting only briefly to the ravager who licks her lips. I don’t even offer her an apologetic look, sliding my beer onto the bar top and bending distance to the California cliff-side house.
When I arrive, I find Carrick and Finley, their heads bent toward each other in serious discussion. They turn my way, but I’m knocked aside as Uorsin and Mattia charge at me. Their nails clack on the hardwood floors and their barks sound relieved. Next to Zora, I’m their favorite, and it’s clear they’re distressed.
