But the beast was not there.
Gromm, in his haste, spun too far, a powerful hand driving into his lower back, snapping several ribs and likely bruising anorgan or two in the process. Gromm forced himself to ignore the pain, diving and rolling to his feet clear of his adversary. He moved slower now, sizing him up with newfound appreciation. This was not just some mindless creature, he realized, his combat smile spreading even wider across his face. This was what he craved. Now he had atrueadversary.
“I’m gonna gut you and wear your hide as a coat,” he said, tossing the knife from hand to hand as they once again circled each other. Without warning he kicked dirt up, trying to temporarily blind the beast.
But the monster was too clever for that, ducking aside and landing a solid blow to Gromm’s shoulder in passing, dislocating it with a wet crunch. He felt a burst of cheer at his success, but it was immediately tempered by a terrible pain in his gut.
He looked down. The handle of Gromm’s blade was jutting from his side, the metal driven in to the hilt.
“Now I’ve got you, ya bastard,” the blue man sneered, cradling his arm.
The beast faltered, hurt badly. It was something he was not used to. He was always the biggest and toughest. But now? Now he was seriously wounded. And even in his beast form, Braxxos felt a flash of fear.
The two of them werebothinjured, a novel situation for each of them, and they each took a moment to compose themselves. A mutual pause only due to their simultaneously suffered injuries. Had it been otherwise, neither would have hesitated to finish the other.
Margot had come running from around the tents and had been watching the whole thing. Her love was alive, but he was hurt. But she was confident in him. He would win. He had to.
Movement from a nearby tent caught her eye.
Rylinn.
He stepped out from behind it, the annoyed look on his face replaced by one of surprise and glee. This was his big payday, the one he’d thought he’d lost. And it had just walked right into his lap. He disappeared into the tent for a moment then emerged once more, a wickedly large pistol in his hand. He took aim, only waiting for Gromm to get out of the way.
“There you go. Just a little more to the left…Gotcha!”
The blast was deafening, but the shot went wild. He glared at the woman who had charged into him, driving his aim astray.
“You little bitch. You’re costing me money,” he growled, slapping her with a solid backhand.
Margot tumbled aside but quickly scrambled to her feet. She looked around, desperately searching for a weapon. A piece of a table shattered in the fighting lay near her feet. She snatched it up, her other hand darting into her pocket.
“You think you can hurt me with that? You’ve seen what I’m made of. All up close and personal. And I think after I take down that thing, I’m going to have Gromm give you to me as a bonus.”
He swung his palm at her, but she ducked aside, swinging the length of jagged metal at him. He saw it coming a mile away. Rylinn turned and caught it easily with a laugh, the metal cutting into his hand a bit, but not causing any real damage. He pulled the makeshift weapon from her hands and threw it aside, shaking his head with cruel amusement.
“Did you really think you could stop me withthat? I know you’re smarter than that. What could you have possibly hoped to accomplish?
A smile slowly grew on her face, curling the corner of her mouth where his red handprint still showed. Not a cowering, but rather a victorious smile that took him quite off-guard.
“What did I want to accomplish?” she replied, holding out her other hand for him to see. “Oh, I already did it.”
It took him a moment in the dim light, but he saw what she was holding in her palm. A Zillin fruit. Terribly poisonous, he knew all too well. A lesson she had paid attention to and taken to heart. He looked at the jagged metal he’d yanked from her grip. The edge was dripping with not only his blood, but also the dark juice of the Zillin.
“You little—” he started to say as he fell to his knees, the sound of combat so close by. He glanced at the beast fighting his employer, his strength failing. “It’ll kill you when it’s done with Gromm, you know,” he gasped, straining to hold on in spite of the inevitable.
“No, he won’t,” she replied with a cold gleam in her eye. “He’s my mate.”
Whether it was the last moment of the poison taking hold or actual surprise, she didn’t know. Rylinn’s eyes went wide, and he made a loud gasping sound, then collapsed to the ground, never to move again.
“Good riddance,” she said, spitting on his corpse.
Margot turned her attention back to the fight. Both men were exhausted. Even with runes and monster blood powering them, they’d both redlined in the fury of their battle. The beast was covered in blood, and it was mostly his own. She realized he had a knife stuck in his side, her own body twinging in sympathetic pain.
A sinking sensation surged through her. Gromm was going to win. She could feel it in her gut. He was just too strong. Gromm picked up a large storage container and raised it over his head to batter his enemy to death. She watched as the blue mercenary moved in for the kill.
“Braxxos!” she cried out in horror as her lover’s death drew near.
The beast, spent and weak with blood loss, looked up, his orange eyes not glowing quite so bright. Not until they methers. His Infala flared at the sight of her, his eyes burning with renewed fire as he grabbed the knife and yanked it from his side with a mighty roar, lunging forward in a flash, driving it up under Gromm’s chin and into his brain.
