The Darkest Surrender (Lords of the Underworld #8)(44)
Author: Gena Showalter

“I’ve got rear.”

Neeka lifted herself into the air.

“Grab her ankle!”

The girl in the middle did as commanded, swinging Neeka around and tossing her away from her teammates, ensuring there would be no tagging out. Breath gushed from her parted, bleeding lips when she landed. Someone was there, waiting, and kicked her in the stomach. She curled into a ball, trying to suck in a breath.

The red dotting Kaia’s gaze darkened to black. To her knowledge, opposing teams had never worked together before. That they were, that Kaia’s demise was the goal that united them…that they still hated her so much…she felt scraped raw inside.

She’d been a kid when she’d inadvertently destroyed their families, for gods’ sake.

Well, she wasn’t a kid anymore, and it was past time these women learned she wouldn’t lie down and take their shit. As her determination increased, the black dots wove together, nearly obscuring her vision completely, leaving only the haze of body heat.

Calm down before you forget where you are and what you can and cannot do.

Inhale deeply…exhale sharply… That didn’t help. Kaia pictured Strider, his fall of blond hair, those navy blue eyes, that wicked smile. Finally the black faded, and her sight returned to normal. She watched as Neeka battled her way from the midst of the violence and scrambled toward Taliyah.

As promised, her sister kept her hands at her sides. Kaia reached out and gently tapped Neeka’s obviously broken fingers. The girl collapsed on the sidelines as Kaia stepped into the ring. As one, everyone stilled and glared over at her. They were bleeding, sweating, panting. And clearly, they’d been waiting for her.

“My sister died because of you.”

“I lost a daughter.”

“We never sought revenge against you out of respect for your mother, but she has at last disavowed you.”

No reaction. The burn started up in her chest again, but she willed it away. Locked it up tight. No going Harpy. Or whatever else. “Good. Now let’s see what I can do to each of you.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be disappointed in your skill.”

They chuckled, and her cheeks flushed. And then, as one, they turned and tagged in a new team member. She recognized the woman on her mother’s team. Had once trained with her.

Like Kaia, these women had yet to fight. They were at full strength and utterly determined to use it. Against her face, no doubt.

You’re strong. You can take them.

Win!

Yes. She would.

That was her last thought before her opponents descended. Kaia ducked and spun, going low and slashing. Someone managed to nail her in the temple with a hard rasp of knuckles, but that didn’t stop her claws from slicing into several Achilles tendons. Grunts of pain sounded, and then the crash of knees hitting wood.

“That’s the way!” Strider shouted.

He was here. He was still here. Dizzy pleasure rushed through her, but she didn’t have time to stop and focus. The Harpies again rushed her. This time, she allowed them to surround her, arching her spine as they punched, swinging her elbows forward and backward, kicking, every motion fluidly blending into the next.

WIN!

“Pluck out their eyes!” Bianka screamed.

The dance never slowed, even though she did not remain unscathed. She was punched—everywhere. She was kicked—everywhere. Soon her muscles were knotted and bruised, her limbs shaking. Strider was up there, watching, and the knowledge kept her strong. A few times, the burn tried to work free of its cage, but she maintained a sturdy enough grip to keep it hidden.

With an elbow to the trachea, she finally took out one of her opponents for good. That left ten more to go. Then another one went down as Kaia took a page from Neeka’s book and broke a neck.

This enraged the nine remaining, and they attacked with greater fervor.

Kaia darted out of the center of the horde, intending to run and gain enough momentum to leap and kick someone’s teeth into her brain. But she was grabbed her by the hair and jerked backward. She crashed into a hard wall before multiple fists battered at her.

“Come on!” Strider roared. “You’re better than this. Fight!”

“Eat their tongues for dinner!” Bianka shouted.

Though she fought with all of her might, they managed to pin her with embarrassing ease, holding her arms and legs to the floor. Those who didn’t have a grip on her rose above her and rained down their damage. She felt bones breaking, organs rupturing.

They laughed. Then, thankfully, she couldn’t see their smug expressions, the world around her fading to black. And not the good kind of black that might have saved her. Before her Harpy could come out of the shadows swinging, before the burn could spring from the cage, she was flipped over, her wings receiving equal punishment.

So much pain…agony…loss…failure…

“Damn it, Kaia!” Strider.

“No! Noooo!” Bianka.

“Snap out of it.” Taliyah.

“Just move, Kye. Just get to me.” Gwen.

Win! Win!

A warm flood in her throat, spilling out her mouth. Maybe blood filled her ears, as well, because the noise level dulled…dulled…until there was only silence. Then a fist hammered into her temple, again and again, and she was no longer aware of the silence.

Only oblivion, such sweet oblivion.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

STRIDER WAS READY TO COMMIT cold-blooded murder. He’d start with Sabin and Lysander, who tried to force him to remain in his seat. They might not realize it, but their actions challenged his demon and Strider face-planted them both. They released him, but rather than bolt for the basketball court, he stayed put. Barely.

He’d tried to leave once before this, determined to reach the Eagleshields on the other side. Then Kaia had been tagged into the ring. He’d found himself racing back to his seat.

If he allowed himself to act, he would slaughter his way through those women. Game over. No first prize awarded—and if he failed to find the Paring Rod himself, he would need Kaia to win. Also, Kaia would be humiliated by his interference. But just then, he didn’t really give a flying f**k about first prize or humiliation.

Was Kaia okay?

She’d gone limp, and an eternity seemed to pass as she was beaten. And beaten some more. Thankfully, the Harpies soon lost interest in her unconscious form and turned on each other. When Strider saw her, he nearly leapt from his seat again. Blood covered every inch of her face. Her clothes were ripped, and just as bloody. Her hands were swollen, her chest motionless.