“Nice shot,” he says.
“It almost was.” I drop into a loose fighting stance. If he thinks I’ll let him anywhere near me, he’s going to learn the hard way what I do to people who enter my personal space without an invitation.
I don’t know what his face is made from, but I’m more than happy to treat it like the pitcher and experiment until something gives.
His lips quirk up at the corners, and he glances over his shoulder at the unconscious meathead. “You’ve incapacitated my guard, darling.”
“Tragic,” I mutter, then frown when there’s no pain from the lie. I had hoped the restraints were blocking my magic, but I’m not bound anymore. Time to experiment.
“You won the fight at the Mouth of Hell,” I say.Nothing. “This realm is lovely.” Still nothing. “My father is a loyal, kind-hearted man.” The words are ash on my tongue, but no matter how big the lie, my magic doesn’t register it.
It’s liberating and horrible at the same time.
“Are you finished?” The veydra cocks his head. “I have a deal for you.”
His cadence is sharp—this is important. Gritting my teeth, I drop out of my fighting stance and examine my nails. “Let’s hear it,” I say.
“You’ll fight.”
I yawn. “What’s in it for me?”
“One man of your choosing for each win.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch.”
“Cut the bullshit,” I snarl. “There’s always a catch.”
“Ah, you want to know what happens if you lose?”
“I don’t lose,” I tell him, raising my eyebrows to remind him exactly how our match in Vegas ended... with him covered in burns and cuts, dragged from the cage by Resker’s goons.
“I know, darling, which is why I didn’t mention it as a possibility.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap, then curse myself for giving him a reaction. If I show him that he’s getting to me, it’ll only get worse. “If I did lose...” My jaw spasms from how hard I’m clenching it.
“How could that happen?” he asks. “You assured me it never does.”
I hiss, hating the amusement in his voice. “I’m not cocky. I work my ass off because I spent my whole childhood getting it kicked. I win fights, not because there’s no one better than me, but because I know what it takes to fall and get back up again. I win fights because I know from many painful, firsthand experiences exactly how it feels to lose.”
My skin crawls. I’m revealing a lifetime of abuse to my enemy, telling him things I don’t enjoy sharing with my friends or even remembering when I’m alone. He should know who he’s working for, though. Maybe he won’t care, but I won’t allow him the comfort of ignorance.
For a long time, there’s no sound besides the crackling of the fire in the hearth.
The veydra stands terribly still. I think I’ve surprised him. I brace for the worst as he clears his throat.
“I’m glad you’ve got a healthy perspective,” he says, his voice slicing through me like a whip. “For every fight you lose, one ofthem dies. The basilisk, the vampire, the demon, or the angel—it’ll be your choice.Darling.And if you fail to cooperate...”
He trails off, but his meaning is obvious. My blood freezes in my veins, and it has nothing to do with the cold gripping this cursed realm in its bony fingers.
Lose a fight and lose everything that matters to me.
Fight outside the lines and be punished with the only torment I couldn’t bear.
“Let’s go then,” the veydra says softly.
I trudge after him without question or complaint, stepping over the unconscious guard. On the outside, I’m calm, assured, and as confident as I’ve ever been. On the inside, I’m shutting down.
