He shrugged. “I figured Ishould probably be nice to you in case you die.”
I chuckled and smackedhis tight bicep. He returned my smile but then his face became serious. “Youropponent is strong, but he fought yesterday, so he’s tired and still healing.”
My heart jackknifed in mychest at this news. Opponent. Right. I was going to have to kill a persontoday. Well, an ash really, but it was the same damn thing to me now.
I felt the blood drainfrom my face when he reached down and produced the weapon my opponent’s sponsorhad chosen for me. It was a black case, which was open to reveal a set of fivesmall throwing stars. I lifted my gaze to Ryder.
“Are you fucking kiddingme? I couldn’t kill a cat with those.”
He grinned. “I know. That’swhy I told Lucas to assign the sword to your opponent. I want you to steal it fromhim.”
My mouth dropped as theair wheezed out of me in a huff. That was either a brilliant plan or thestupidest thing I’d heard all week. So much of that relied on skills I probablydidn’t possess yet. I just really hoped Ryder knew what he was doing, and thatI didn’t let either of us down.
The next forty-five minutes passed in ablur as Ryder made me practice stealing a weapon from him. We ran through aboutten different scenarios, depending on how my opponent reacted to our plan. Ifelt about twelve percent more confident than before, so I was still prettymuch up shit creek sans paddle again.
I had about ten minutesof rest time before the buzzer sounded, then it was my turn in the arena. Ryder,gleaming with sweat, turned to face me. “Charlie…”
Charlie. The way he saidmy name this time … like there were true emotions there, a sense of reverence.He never usually spoke to me like that. I played with the hem of my shirt,unsure of what to do or say. I mean, I had a lot of things to say to him and Icould be dead in the next few minutes, but I couldn’t find the right way toexpress all of my thoughts. Emotion overcame me and tears welled in my eyes. Theyweren’t tears of fear or pain though, they were angry tears. This wasn’t fair!We were just normal human kids who had free-lovin’ mothers and now we had tokill each other over it.
“This is bullshit!” Ipretty much shouted.
Ryder’s hands snaked outand grabbed the sides of my face, cradling it as he brought me close to him,resting his forehead on mine. “Life isn’t fair, Charlie.” His breath tickled mynose; the delicious scents coming from him had me wanting to lean even closer,to touch my lips to his. Of course that was when he pulled away a little.
“I’ve seen a small firesmoldering inside of you since the day I brought you in. When those doors open,I need you to unleash that fire. Your opponent already has death on his hands.He won’t hesitate to do it again. You need to be ready, you need to fight tosurvive.”
His words roared throughme like the fire he spoke of. Ryder had reminded me of the most important thing.It was simple math – the other ash or me. I nodded, relishing his warm hands onme. He left them there for one short moment and then pulled back quickly, hisstoic façade falling back over his face. He tucked the throwing stars in mywaist belt and opened the double doors.
“You can do this,” wasall he said, before nudging me out and shutting the doors behind me.
And just like that, I wasin the culling arena.
I forced down the burn offear and bile as my eyes alighted on the spectators, their feet pounding on thebleachers above. A vampire crossed the floor toward me. He was wearing theofficial uniform of the judges, a flamboyant royal purple full-length silk robe,with checkering of black and white.
He checked me over tomake sure I wasn’t holding any illegal weapons. I glanced across the room at myopponent, who was in the middle of the same checks, and was a little surprisedto see it was one of the black-haired guys who had attacked Jayden and Ioutside that day. Some of my fear left, replaced by anger again. Bastard. Maybethis wouldn’t be as hard as I feared. After all, karma was a bitch. And so wasCharlie when she was cornered.
Black-haired ash was holdinga samurai sword in an expert grip. I noted that his neck was bandaged, as washis ankle. These were the weak spots. The judge vamps left the field then andthe fighter buzzer rang. I wasted no time sprinting toward him, prepared tomeet him head on. We were separated by fifty feet of open gym, a scattering oflow walls, hay bales and other shit to hide around was strewn about. Itreminded me of a paintball course and it changed between every fight. Some ofthe floor was still lined with blue mats, other parts stone or cement.
I grabbed one of thethrowing stars from where Ryder had stashed them, palming it. I would hold onto them until he was closer, especially since I had no clue how to throw themaccurately.
I hesitated, even as thedistance closed between us, and it wasn’t until we were about fifteen feetapart, the black of his eyes reflecting the large spotlights above us, then Ichucked one. He dodged in a rapid movement and it sailed past his leftshoulder. Okay, I officially sucked at throwing shit. Why had we spent so muchtime training with a sword? The other guy’s sponsor must have noted this, andchosen something I had barely touched.
I focused. I couldn’t lethim get near me with that sword. I loaded two stars into my hands this time. Whenhe was ten feet from me – aggressively charging – I figured I couldn’t misshim, and let them both go at the same time. One sailed right past but the othersank into the side of his injured neck. Hell yeah, luck was on my side.
He faltered, his muffledgroan pain-filled as he stopped to rip the star free. Then, in the next moment,he did as Ryder and I had hoped. As he pulled the star free – my stomach churnedat the chunk of flesh that went with it – he lowered his sword against hisside. I ignored the blood and flesh. I didn’t have time to deal withsqueamishness right now, this was my best chance to relieve him of his weapon.I took the chance that he wouldn’t expect me to come at him so violently.
I booked it, closing thegap between us, and before he could bring up the sword, I did my five stepcombo. It was like breathing for me now, no thought, just pure rememberedinstinct. My left hand flew out and sank into his jaw. I ignored the pain in myknuckles as my right fist connected with his temple. I heard the sword drop,but I didn’t allow it to break my concentration. Knee to his ribs and he keeledover. Changing my routine, I improvised and pushed his shoulders, which were atmy stomach level, shoving him backwards.
Thank you, Ryder, fordrilling that boring-ass combo into my head. Who knew it would be so effective.
Dropping to the ground Iretrieved the sword and the crowd went wild. My opponent recovered quickly, hisdark eyes narrowing and fangs flashing as he spun himself on the ground. He wasfaster than I expected, and used his position to kick out and trip me. I keptmy grip on the sword, knowing that if I lost it now I was as good as dead. Istumbled forward, somehow managing to keep my balance. I then righted myself.He flung his legs out, doing a kick up, and was suddenly standing before me.
He dodged my first attackwith the blade. He was well trained, and definitely had spent time aroundweapons. But something told me the sword wasn’t his first choice, just by the waryglare he gave it.
Adrenalin was floodingme, which was helpful in keeping the pure fear at bay. Fight to the death,fight to the death. I kept repeating it over and over, trying to make myselfattack him again.
“You’re weak,” he spat, “andI’m going to enjoy tearing you limb from limb.” He was confident as he startedcircling me. But I had been sparring with Ryder for weeks now, and there was noone scarier than him. This little punk was nothing.
I centered myself,drawing on whatever ounce of badass was inside of me. The sword fit my handlike it was made for it. Sword was definitely my weapon. I struck out at him, fastand without any indication I was going to move. His eyes shuttered. Before herecovered, I had already cut three long gashes into him, two on his right armand one on his left.
