With that, a sinister smile crossed my face.
The microphone clicked on. “Ladies, begin.”
With lightning speed, Blondie flashed over and punched me in the face.
Holding my eye, I looked up as she flashed off. “So that’s how it’s gonna be? Hit and run? That’s not fighting.”
When she came at me a second time, I ducked and threw out my leg to trip her. She smacked into the wall and left a streak of blood where she crumpled to the floor. As I moved toward her, she struck me in the femur with her steel-toed boot.
“Son of a—” I grimaced and looked at my leg to see if a bone was sticking out. Much to my relief, the kick had only broken my skin but nothing else.
Blondie crawled away and then scrambled to her feet.
I loved confined spaces. No escape, no surprises, and…
The wall between two windows opened up like a drawer, and Blondie flashed over and pulled out a dagger.
What was I saying about surprises?
As the rectangular drawer shut, I realized that either the house or the players were in control, and we were nothing but chips on the table.
She gripped the dagger in her left hand and held it above her head.
Amateur.
When Blondie flashed toward me and drove down the knife, I throat-punched her. The blade sank into my shoulder and cut bone, but I was willing to take the hit. She reached for her throat, gasping and coughing. I punched her in the face again and again like a boxer going for the win. Blood sprayed across one of the mirrored windows like raindrops. The knife fell from her grip and skittered across the floor when she accidentally kicked it while stumbling backward.
Blondie fell to all fours, retching and gasping for breath.
I reached down and scooped up the dagger, my palm welcoming the handle like an old friend. “Hello, darling.”
As I straightened my back, I glimpsed her in the mirror, moving like a bullet. A punch to the kidney brought me to my knees. The pain radiated through my insides like a sharp sword burying itself deep. The second blow came from her steel-toed boot, and when it hit the same spot, I bellowed in pain.
I rolled to my side and stared at the floor in disbelief. I’d taken a lot of blows in training, but never to the kidney. Nausea swept over me, but I pushed it down and went into survival mode. All the mirrors gave me flashbacks to the days when I fought for my life in bar bathrooms. I had taken all my victims by surprise, but this was no sneak attack, and I finally had an equal who wanted to win just as much as I did.
I caught her movement in the mirrors, and before she could kick me again, I rolled out of reach.
With the knife gripped in my hand—the way you’resupposedto hold a knife in a fight—I used the wall to steady myself and rose to face her. “Now you’ve pissed me off,” I grumbled.
Her face reddened as she continued coughing, but she wasn’t giving up.
In the many reflections, I noticed the stab wound on my back. The dagger wasn’t a stunner, so the offering was meant to increase the bloodshed, not win the fight.
Blood trickled down my arm in rivulets as I pointed the dagger at her. “Come and get it.”
She spat blood on the floor, her left eye swelling up and those pretty lips split and bleeding. Defeat didn’t flicker in her eyes, and she stood like an immovable rock that refused to be broken.
I admired the hell out of her.
We circled each other like predators, each looking for a weakness. Blondie flashed at me, and in a surprise move, bent down and hoisted me off the floor. Airborne for the briefest of seconds, I braced myself for the fall. My back hit the floor with a sickening thud. Before I could wince, we grappled as she tried to disarm me.
I wrenched my hand away, slicing her arm in the process. Stabbing a Mage in the torso wouldn’t do much damage, but a leg wound would slow her down. I readjusted the blade and sank it into her thigh. To my delight, Blondie let out a bloodcurdling scream. She then yanked the blade out and aimed it over my chest. With her straddling me and my right arm pinned, I had no escape.
As the blade came down, I knocked her hand with my free arm. She missed, and once again, we fought for the weapon. I threw her off me as I bit her arm and rolled to the side. No Vampire fangs, just good old-fashioned incisors. When her entire body suddenly heated up like a furnace, I roared like a wild animal caught in a trap. Her touch was unbearable, and I scurried backward.
“You Thermal bitch,” I growled, my teeth still burning.
Out of breath, she exhaustedly grabbed the knife and remained on one knee, glancing at me over her right shoulder.
