“Ack, I yield!” Apollo screams.
Rhazan pulls back and grins like the Cheshire Cat. He reaches out for Apollo, who takes his offer to get up. Bets exchange hands all around the room, some in coin, some in a bright digital currency that looks something like my astral power.
Rhazan and Apollo approach us, the latter scooping Sylvia into his arms for a deep, seductive kiss. I avert my gaze, watching Rhaz instead, how all his corded muscles flex and bulge as he moves. He comes within inches of me and drops his voice low.
“You’re late.”
I cross my arms. “Wanna fight about it?”
He hums in a deliciously low timbre. “Maybe.”
That one word puts me on a sharp edge. I think I want to fight about it, too.
“Twenty whatever currency says I can make you tap out in two minutes,” I say.
The fire in his chest burns brighter. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” I say smartly as I move past him into the ring.
I pull off my shirt, grateful I’d worn a sports bra to bed. Rhazan’s burning gaze focuses on my chest before moving the length of my body. Smoke curls from his nostrils.
“You chicken?” I ask.
The room goes quiet.
He snorts, forcing all that heat out in a big puff like a bull facing down a red flag. Maybe I am a red flag if I want to fight him, but shit, wouldn’t it be cool to say I’ve fought an actual demon, fist to fist?
He stalks into the ring, slinking like a feral cat. His demeanor has changed entirely from the fight with his brother, and his moves, I assume, will too. He was all heavy brawler, like a bear. Slower and big strikes. But now, I don’t know what’s coming for me.
Maybe I’ve made a mistake.
Too late to turn back now.
fifteen
Fists and Fury
“I’ve got ten on Jade!” Sylvia yells and Apollo covers her mouth too late.
Someone else across the room takes the bet and things come to life around us.
Rhazan stares me down like he’s about to rip out my throat—or maybe fuck me to death, I don’t know. This insatiable, predatory gleam in his eyes is intoxicating, and I want more. If that means I have to fight him for it, I will.
Bets get shouted and it sounds mostly in Rhazan’s favor. I’m not mad about it. Look at him. He’sdefinitelygoing to give my ass a whooping, and that’s without magic. But I’m going to put up my best fight, show him I’m not some weak fawn that needs his protection.
Rhazan steps closer. Violent intent spills over my body like gasoline on a flame. I’m ratcheted to a thousand, itching to go.
“Ready for me, Firecracker?” he asks in a low, gravelly voice that scrapes my insides raw.
I take first stance, cultivating my breath as I give him a Shaolin salute. “Bring it, RhazDaddy.”
His jaw flexes and flames dance in his eyes. That’s the only warning I get before he moves to strike. His left foot comes forward and he twists, pulling back his right shoulder. I flow, turning aside and slapping his wrist away. With his ribs exposed, I plant a fast, testing palm to his side.
A thump of impact, and the crowd roars. Rhaz exhales a pleased grunt and pivots to catch me with a hook, but I drop my weight, sliding under his arm. The tips of my fingers brush the floor for balance as I make a swipe for the back of his knee. He lifts his leg, stomping down for my chest. I roll backwards and spring to standing, shifting my feet around a few times to release the energy burning through my body.
Rhaz takes a moment to observe me, a smirk playing on his lips. “I thought we were going to fight, not dance.”
I curl two fingers at him. “Come, then. Fight.”
