Tyler dropped Corrine like a bag of trash and walked away, his body morphing back to his human form.
Corrine lay in an unmoving heap, her throat a masticated maw, eyes glassy and unseeing.
“He killed her…” I turned to Benedict. “He fucking killed her.”
“No, he didn’t,” Benedict said. “Look.”
The mist sank into Corrine’s skin, covering her completely. The wound in her neck began to knit, and life flickered in her eyes. She sucked in a ragged breath, then another, as the mist finally dissipated, leaving her healed and whole.
She sat up slowly, fixing Tyler with a murderous glare. “You’re a bastard, Damascus!”
He spat blood. Her blood. Then wiped his mouth. “And you’re a cunt. What of it?”
“You can’t have them.”
“You lost, so they belong to me. Have them delivered at sunset tomorrow.” He strode to the exit but paused, looking up at me. His razor-sharp smile—so much like his brother’s—made my soul quake.You’re next,he mouthed. Then he ducked through the door and was gone.
“Next match,” the arena master announced, “Tamina Vayne and Anamaya Onyx.”
* * *
Voices and faces blurredas I descended into the arena. Students and seafolk parted, clearing a path for me. Jay and Brek stood on the opposite side of the cage, flanked by a couple of other bulky guys. More Thropes, no doubt. And standing on the other side of the arena was my opposition, the Phage of the hour, Tamina.
She’d dressed in tight red trousers and a red silk bodice. An ensemble that brought out the murder in her eyes and left nothing to the imagination.
She carried no weapons aside from her cherry-red nails, which were sharpened to points.
Maybe I wasabout to get clawed.
I could handle that.
But she was sith like Corrine. Could she use her glow and words to control me? Would she make me inflict damage on myself? I needed to be prepared to look away from her aura and resist. Drayven’s warning came to mind about her ability to get into someone’s head. Could she do that even if I wasn’t looking at her? My skin prickled in awareness, everyone was watching me. If I failed, if I fell under Tamina’s control, then my defeat and shame would be on full display. Had I taken on more than I could handle?
Ruspin sat behind the mesh, collar biting into his throat, warm brown eyes filled with shadows. Fresh welts decorated his flank. It was a message for me, and a panacea to my doubts. If I fell, I fucking fell, but like Tarrifel would I walk away without trying to save him.
Tamina followed my gaze and smiled. “You like it? I made a pretty pattern,” she singsonged. “I plan to make more once we’re done here. If you’re still conscious, you’re welcome to watch.”
This bitch was going down. It’d been a while since my last fist fight—I was itching to break a nose, maybe dislocate a jaw. I flexed my fingers, registering the slight stiffness in my right hand. Fuck it, busting it again would be worth it to smash her nose in.
“Three minutes,” the arena master said. “Let’s bring the pain.”
The crowd roared. Tamina raised her arms, urging them to cheer louder.
I looked up at the Unwoven. Clary gave me a thumbs up, Benedict dropped me a nod of encouragement, and Dori shouted, “Fuck her up, Onyx!”
“Boo!” the crowd yelled.
“Onyx bitch!” Someone shouted.
Great, Tamina went around beating her pet Thrope, yet I’m the villain? Twisted.
The crowd to the left of our cage parted, and Arnav stepped through. He crossed his arms, surveying the arena before locking his sharp emerald gaze on me. A small group of females surrounded him, preening even though he didn’t spare them a glance.
Boy, did I feel special.
The bell rang, shrill and damning. Before I could act, pressure coiled around my shoulder, and an invisible force yanked hard at my arm.
My shoulder dislocated with a sharp pop.
