He’s right, the bastard. The harsh lights burn against my bare skin. I blink. I can hardly see a thing beneath their onslaught, just the first row of tables beyond the stomping, roaring crowd. But I feel them all – their eyes pricking my skin, their skin straining over knuckles as they punch the air, the scent of blood hanging low and thick.
Noah strides across the arena, his body poised for a fight. Antony stalks after him to remind him of the rules of our organization. They argue over top of each other in harsh whispers, reminding me of every time in my life where men have made decisions for me.
“Fuck off,” I shove them aside. “I’ll fight Cali.”
Eli’s Golden Boy features darkens with rage. “Don’t be insane. You’re not getting in the ring with her. She can’t just stomp in here and demand you fight her. It’s not a fair playing field—”
“Listen to the crowd out there,” I hiss back. “You think we can walk out of this now without spilling blood? This isn’t a high school sports game. They don’t give a shit about afair playing field. They’ve just seen Constantine felled and Marcus chopped to bits. They want their bread and circuses.”
“Fine. Then let Noah fight in your place.” Eli balls his hands into fists. “Hell, give me a poleaxe; I’ll smash the bitch’s head in for you. But don’t go out there—”
I grab his shoulders. “It has to be me. You understand that? If I send one of you to fight in my place, I’ll look weak, and someone will pick me off anyway. I can’t look weak.”
Eli lets out a strangled cry and tears himself from me, holding his head like it’s in serious danger of toppling off his shoulders. “Please don’t do this.”
I look into those deep eyes and see the boy who never gave up on me, not in all those years when he thought his friend Mackenzie was dead. And she and I might not be the same person, but we’re forever linked for him. He’ll never give up on us, just like he hasn’t given up now. He’s still trying to find a way to save me.
Eli the protector. Eli the problem-solver. Eli the profoundly, utterly decent person who has found himself in love with a crime boss. And he has no idea how to think or love his way out of this mess.
I give him the only gift I have to give – the ability to turn away. I cover his eyes with my hand. “Don’t watch.”
Eli’s face crumbles. And I know that in accepting this fight, I’ve severed something vital between us.
But I’ve also reclaimed a piece of myself – all these years I’ve been on my own, I’ve never needed anyone to look after me. It’s fitting that I walk to my death alone.
If I fight with honor, Cali will spare my family. All I care about now, all I have left to care about, is keeping them safe.
Maybe it’s good, and right, and proper, that it ends like this. Two broken women drawing blood for the entertainment of men. Maybe that’s all my empire is – a house of straw that can be felled by a single flame.
Noah barges between us, his arms full of weapons. “This is everything in the prep room. If you use a long weapon like a staff, you might be able to hold her back before she can get close enough to use her blade.”
I look up at him, my mirror, the one whose bloodlust matches my own. He’s not questioning why I’m getting in the ring. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he’s using every moment we have to prepare me for battle. We both know it’s probably hopeless, but I’m not dead yet.
I shake my head sadly. “She’s an assassin. She’s trained to be an expert in every one of those weapons. I’d be better off with my knives.”
Fuck.
I can’t even look at Gabriel, or I’ll burst into tears. He slides his arms around me from the back, pressing his cheek against mine. His heart thunders against my ribcage. “I’ve sharpened my steel, I’ve made my sacrifices,” he sings softly in my ear. “I’m unleashing war.”
My battle cry.
I slide every knife I can find into my boots and pick up a heavy sword – similar enough to the ones I’d practiced with that I think I can wield it. Antony nods to me. We’ve already said everything we need to say to each other. He can’t save me, and I won’t ask him to sacrifice himself for me. I’ve already asked so much.
I step into the ring. The crowd roars in my ears. Inside the bowl of the arena, the noise sounds strange, distant – like a thunderstorm rolling over the ocean. Blood pounds in my skull – a war drum counting down to my doom.
In here, there’s only me. And Cali.
She’s chosen no weapon. She cracks her bloody knuckles and smiles her white, toothy smile. “I’m going to enjoy wringing the life from you with my own hands,” she says.
We circle each other – me in a crouched position, ready to dart away, Cali tall and lean and proud, her movements languid, like she’s taking a casual stroll. She has the audacity to whistle a little tune.
I go on the attack, feigning a lunge for her. As Cali steps easily aside, I sweep out my foot, whip a blade from my shoe, and let it fly. Cali pulls her shoulder back just in time. The edge of the blade kisses her skin. Her own blood joins the drying dribbles on her arm. She grins as she flicks the knife between her fingers.
Cali leaps just as I slide the second knife from my boot. Her elbow slams into my solar plexus, knocking the wind from my lungs. I fall hard on my back, kicking up a cloud of sand. It’s in my eyes, my nostrils, my mouth. I swallow grit. My eyes weep.
Cali slams her fist into my jaw. I hear a crack that doesn’t register as pain. Not yet. My brain rattles around inside my skull. The dull roar of the crowd dips and swirls, and my world greys at the edges. I’m aware, dimly, that I’m in a world of shit. But I can’t seem to make myself care.
Every blow she lands feels like penance. Behind her shoulder, I see the three horrified faces of my guys as they watch me take the beating. I don’t know if I actually see them or if they’re a hallucination of my dwindling brain activity.They’d be better off without me.They still have time to be free of this world, to start over.
