The demand in his tone set her on edge, but she followed it anyway, finding Kace quickly on the sands. He was across the arena, a sword gripped in his fist as he fought two men at once. Heart in her throat, Eva watched as blood coated the entirety of his chest, his face carefully controlled. The swords clashed, the clang echoing as he defended each swipe without making any advances of his own.
What was he doing?
It was hard to keep composed, to not react as the blades got precariously close to Kace’s throat, his opponents movements frenzied. He had plenty of opportunities to make the final strike, but he always pulled back at the last moment. They needed one more death to end the round, and Eva spotted a third fighter sneaking up behind him, a dagger gripped firmly in his fist.
Eva shot to her feet, her palm pressed to the window as the third fighter made his move. Kace pivoted at the last second, the dagger missing his back only to land in the chest of another.
Augustine had remained seated. “Perfect.”
Eva couldn’t hear anything past the roar inside her head. Her fangs throbbed, her stomach tightened. The lights around her began to brighten, her eyesight sharpening as one by one the podiums ascended, a light beacon that seemed to pulsate until a weapon was placed inside. As soon as the podium was full, it immediately dropped to the floor, so fast the fighters had to jump back or risk losing their toes.
She waited a few seconds, watching as the survivors were beckoned back through the oversized double doors before she returned to Augustine.
“Perfect,” he repeated, his eyes swelling until black. She suspected her eyes were the same. “You’re overexcited, which can cause bloodlust. It makes you dangerous, your desire for blood and death overwhelming until your thirst has been sated. Don’t worry, the urge will lessen as you age. Sometimes.”
He was right, she craved blood to the point she imagined tearing his throat out with her fangs. Imagined sinking her face into the gaping hole she had caused and drinking her fill. Her sight had heightened even further, along with her sense of smell which meant the lingering blood of the security only made the thirst worse. She could make out the slight bumps beneath his skin where his veins were, and count every slow beat of his pulse. It was a siren’s call, and it excited her.
It scared her.
“Now I will feed you before you kill another one of my security.” He shrugged out of his jacket before rolling up the sleeve of his left arm, holding his wrist up to her.
Eva stiffened, forcing herself to not grab it.
Augustine’s smile was harsh. “Your control is impressive, I forget sometimes that you’re still so young. Now, come here.” It was a demand.
Eva reached for his wrist, but he pulled it back to his chest as soon as she was close.
“On your knees.” He sat back in his chair, legs slightly spread with his wrist resting in between. “Now.” He faced the glass, still transparent. She had no idea whether anyone else could see inside, could see her humiliation.
Eva closed her eyes as she sank to her knees, only opening them when she was sure she had calmed down. She needed to remain composed, otherwise she risked everything.
His blood tasted vile on her tongue, especially now she had others to compare it to. He tasted of death, rot and smoke, his blood lacking energy as she sucked in long drags.
She heard the door click open to the office, and rather than pull back Augustine held her down by his wrist.
“Hey there, pretty lady.”
“Dutch,” Augustine greeted. “How much?”
“One million was bet, with six-hundred thousand kept by the house. It seems your favourite really made a statement considering he didn’t kill anyone.”
Eva forced herself to slow her swallowing.
“We made money either way,” Augustine said, his grip tight in her hair. “And six on opening night is more than we could have ever hoped. I assume our classic performance has started?”
Eva recoiled as something brushed against her back, but she was unable to see anything but Augustine.
“You were right, everyone seems to be staying for the classic, and I’ve just heard that we’re already at capacity through the Troll Market entrance. Membership is up fifty percent. I’ve just heard from Bishop, and he’s impressed.”
“Did you ever really doubt me?” Augustine finally released her head, and Eva shot back on her heels. “We have any issues?”
“No, but I found something interesting in the locker room.” Dutch grinned, which brought her attention to his mouth and jaw which were stained red. “It seems the fighters wanted a little party before the big fight.” He pulled out three silver canisters, his thumb brushing over the engraving of a skull with horns, a black ‘X’ crossed through the image.
Augustine caught one when Dutch tossed it to him, dismissing it almost immediately. “It will make them more aggressive, which can only be a good thing. You figured out where they’re coming from yet?”
“Working on it.” Dutch lifted one of the cannisters to his nostril, his nail piercing the metal. The cannister wheezed as he inhaled the entire thing. “This stuff is fucking good.” He dropped his gaze to Eva, and the look in his eyes wasn’t friendly.
She climbed to her feet, trying to ignore the new cries and screams through the glass. Curiosity got the better of her when she looked back out over the arena, the crowd having almost tripled in the stalls. They roared and cheered, almost drowning out the sounds from the two who fought below.
