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Before I can switch my attention back to Reina, her weapon connects with my shoulder. I hardly feel the blow, even as the force slams through my body.
I stumble.
A few seconds later, a pulse of red flashes from my vest. Another. I didn’t even see her strike. The pain and adrenaline form a fuzzy cloud around my vision. I’m gasping for breath, not even caring how winded I sound. My bare feet slip on the puddles wetting the mat, a mixture of my sweat and blood.
A stinging blow to my abdomen nearly drops me to my knees. The air flees my lungs. I can’t breathe.
For a split second, I lose sight of the prince.
And then Reina switches the baton from her right hand to her left. I follow the movement as she swings the baton at my head, barely ducking as the baton glances off my skull. Waves of dizziness crash over me until I’m drowning in darkness.
Blinking, I claw my way to the surface just in time to catch sight of her bare foot inches from my face.
The roundhouse kick feels like being hit by a sledgehammer to the face. Next thing I know, I’m on my back, staring at the metal ceiling fan whirring above. As the room erupts in cheers, she steps over me and touches the Winter Prince with her baton.
A light, gleeful touch.
Damn.
Get up, I order my body. But it just lays there, broken and sad, in flagrant disregard to my order.
Traitor.
On her way to her cheering fan club, Reina smirks down at me. “Might want to put some ice on that.”
Ouch.
Mack rushes over with a towel for my face. “Is anything broken?”
“Just my ego,” I moan as I press the towel to my lip; the white fabric comes away soaked in blood.
Mack helps me up to a sitting position.
I wince, tears of pain and humiliation stinging my eyes. “Everything hurts and I’m dying.”
She snorts. “You might wish you were dead right now; I saw Bane filming the entire thing.”
“Wonderful.” I’m scared to even touch my face and assess the damage. “How bad is it?”
Mack snags her bottom lip between her teeth. “Imagine if a psychopath took a metal baton and smacked you in the face repeatedly. You look like that.”
I groan as throbbing fire prods my brain. How many times did she hit me? Gathering all my courage, I run my fingers over my face and head. The examination reveals two lumps on my left side, a swollen lip, and a bloodied eyebrow the size of a golf ball.
Eclipsa bounds over to me, an infirmary kit in her hands. “You lasted way longer than I thought you would.”
I pull the towel away from my lip, frowning at the blood. “Thanks. I think.”
As Eclipsa procures a butterfly bandage for my eyebrow, Mack stares in awe at the Unseelie assassin. But I’m too tired and beaten up to care that one of the Six is talking to me.
“She was . . . fast,” I mutter. “Freakishly fast.”
Eclipsa glances at Asher as he strides over carrying a bucket of water and rags. Mack looks like she might pass out at the sight of another of the Six, but she collects herself enough to gape idiotically at them.
Asher clicks his tongue as he drops to one knee beside us, his bulky body taking up a ton of space. “Prince should have called it. Reina was definitely using a speed spell.”
“She cheated?” Mack demands, forgetting her awe over their presence. In her world, cheating is the worst sin possible.
Asher is bent over, flashing a beam of light into my eyes. He glances up through a curtain of dark hair to appraise Mack.
