We wove through the throng and up the stairs, which were already packed. It seemed everyone had the same idea to get to higher ground and a better view.
The seafolk stood out among the land folk with their vibrant hair, and it was easy to find Arnav among them. He stood a head above most everyone else.
He must have sensed me watching, because he glanced up the stairs and found me easily. His smile held emotions that seemed tied to memories of Dharma, not me.
“Excuse me. Out of the way.” Benedict nudged and elbowed a path through for us.
No one gave me a second glance now. All attention was on the arena below.
We squeezed through to the barrier just as two figures entered the arena from opposite ends.
Tyler bounced on his feet, his silver buzzcut gleaming under the harsh overhead lights above the fighting ring. He’d stripped off his jacket and wore only a black undershirt and fitted black trousers. His feet were bare.
The woman across from him wore a ruby red high-necked blouse and black trousers. Her feet were also bare.
“Why aren’t they wearing shoes?”
“You’ll see,” Benedict said, his eyes alight with excitement. “Thrope fights are all fur and fang. Vicious, of course, but Haematophage fights are brutal and terrifying because each party looks human, and yet…they’re not.”
Dori interjected. “What Benedict is—not so eloquently—trying to say is that Haematophage have a beast too; it just looks a lot like us.”
“Two minutes,” the voice on the intercoms bellowed. “Start the timer, hit the bell.”
The bell rang, and Tyler threw back his head and roared. His eyes bled to black, and his mouth stretched wide, fangs lengthening as more teeth sprouted from his gums. Across from him, the female sith screamed, arching her back as her face morphed, jaw dropping and elongating. Her fingers grew long and tapered, tipped with black talons. Dark blue scales erupted across her shoulders, snaking down her arms, and the whites of her eyes turned red to match her blouse.
Their feet changed, growing long and wide. They used those mutated feet to launch into the air a moment later, pouncing at each other.
They clashed with bloodthirsty snarls, clawing and tearing at each other like rabid beasts. A mist of blood rose to surround them, swirling as if alive. It momentarily obscured our view, hiding them from sight. All we heard were the awful sounds of tearing flesh and the gurgle of a wet scream.
A few seconds later, Corrine shot out of the mist, hitting the mesh with a clang that shook the arena before dropping to the ground like a stone.
She lay on her back, eyes glassy and unseeing, skin as white as a sheet, cheeks sunken, lips pulled back from her teeth. She looked…dead.
Tyler landed on the ground a few feet away, taking half the mist with him. But it no longer hid him; it hovered over him like a red cloud. The other half drifted over to Corrine, pulsing erratically like an unsteady heartbeat.
Was she dead? She certainly looked dead. Not a twitch or a blink. No rise and fall of her chest. “Is she dead?”
“Fel, no,” Dori said. “Sith are hardier than that.”
“Not as hardy as dhampir,” Clary said. “Dhampir are near impossible to kill—that’s why the vampire houses keep producing them. Wait for it…”
Corrine’s hand twitched, her arm rising as if reaching for the mist. It whooshed toward her, but Tyler struck first. He grabbed her by the throat, yanking her away and slamming her into the mesh. The crack and snap of bone filled the sudden silence. Corrine let out a high-pitched squeal, her body morphing back into its perfect, beautiful human form. Her skin began to glow silver, ethereal and breathtaking. My insides twisted with longing, and I gripped the rail harder, leaning over it, desperate to get to her.
“Careful!” Benedict’s hand shot to my waist. “Don’t look directly at her.”
Tyler growled, shaking his head as the tension bled from his body.
“You don’t want to hurt me,” Corrine crooned, her voice like honey—warm, rich, and sweet. “Let me go.” There was no tone of command in her words, only compulsion. It beat against my senses, the pin-drop silence confirming everyone else felt it too.
“Release me, Tyler,” she crooned. “You want to let me go.”
Tyler’s shoulders heaved as he fought the compulsion. For a moment, I thought she had him—that he was going to back down. But then he slammed her against the mesh once more.
“Fuck you, Corrine!” He sank his teeth into her throat, ravaging and growling as her gurgling scream filled the room.
What the fuck? He was killing her!
The bell rang shrilly, ending the match.
