The Mage in Black (Page 23)

I ignored that. I’d do what I had to do to win, no matter what the consequences. “Are weapons allowed?”

She shook her head. “No, that’d be too easy. This is hand-to-hand all the way.”

I nodded, digesting that. Hand-to-hand I could definitely handle.

“I don’t think I have to remind you to be careful.”

I shot her a look. “It’s not like I want to be injured, Rhea.”

“I know. It’s just your sister would be devastated if something happens. As would I. If this wasn’t such a complicated situation, Maisie never would have allowed you to fight.”

My eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to survive so your plans for me won’t get screwed up.”

“Sabina, I’m not talking about the prophecy.” Rhea sent me a sad look. “Is it really so hard to believe someone would be worried about you just because we care?”

Yeah, it was actually, but I didn’t want to argue with her. Instead, I took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

11

Rhea led me to a dim room. A fight pit sat in the center with a couple of bare bulbs offering the only illumination. I’d expected an eager crowd of weres shouting for my blood. Instead, two lone males stood under the light. I found the lack of witnesses and the silence more intimidating than I would have an unruly crowd.

The one on the right nodded slightly as we approached. “Sabina Kane.”

The scent of wet dog and apple juice drifted to my nose. His hair was wet with the stuff and his hand was sticky with it. I certainly wasn’t going to clue him in that the forbidden fruit had no effect on me.

I nodded back. “And you are?”

“Michael Romulus.” He offered a hand to shake. I looked at it a second, wondering if it was a trick. But his eyes held steady, almost a dare. I gripped his rough palm with just enough pressure to let him know I meant business. He met my gaze levelly and squeezed back just enough to let me know he didn’t give a shit if I was female—he meant business, too.

Funny, his calm confidence and rangy frame didn’t scream Alpha male. He was wearing khakis, for chrissakes. If anything, his companion looked more the part with his bulging biceps and hairy knuckles. But I knew better than to underestimate Michael. Sometimes the smaller packages held the nastiest surprises. Besides, I might not know much about werewolves, but I knew one didn’t rise to Alpha of a pack without some serious fighting skills.

I pulled my hand from his and wiped it on my jeans. “And him?” I jerked my head in the direction of his companion.

“This is Rex. My second in command. He’ll act as my witness.”

I nodded at the hulk. “This is Rhea Lazarus.”

The three exchanged polite nods.

“We’ve met,” Michael said.

I glanced at Rhea. I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me that she knew the were, but I found it odd she hadn’t mentioned it earlier. On the other hand, I guess it explained why she knew enough about them to help me prepare for the fight.

Michael nodded at Rex, who pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. “Whereas Sabina Kane—hereafter known as the accused—is charged with poaching on territory reserved for the exclusive use of the Lone Wolf pack and all its affiliates, led by one Michael Romulus—hereby known as the plaintiff—and whereas the accused also resisted vacating the territory when asked by representatives of the plaintiff, and whereas—”

I interrupted. “Jeez, what are you? A lawyer?”

Michael frowned. “Yes.”

I rolled my eyes. “Look, I got it. We don’t need a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo. I poached—unknowingly, I might add—and I hurt two of your guys, in self-defense, by the way. So now I have to fight you.”

Michael nodded. “Our seconds will not interfere, and no weapons may be used. The fight is to the surrender. Do you agree to those terms?”

“I think we both know surrender isn’t an option.”

He inclined his head to acknowledge the truth of my statement. “Shall we?”

I turned and walked back to the edge of the pit. Rhea put her hands on my shoulders. “He’s going to fight dirty.”

Over Rhea’s shoulder, I watched Michael speaking quietly to his companion. “And you think I won’t?”

Rhea looked me in the eyes. “Don’t get cocky out there. That apple cologne he’s wearing might not hurt you, but he’s strong enough to rip off your head if you’re not careful.”

I jerked a nod. “Got it.” A shadow moved behind a two-way mirror set high in the wall. It could have been a trick of light, but I doubted it. Someone was watching us. The Shade?

“Let us begin.” Romulus’s commanding voice sounded unnaturally loud in the dark room.

Rhea squeezed my shoulder and backed away. Across the ring, Romulus’s second did the same. My opponent walked calmly into the center of the pit. He raised one hand and beckoned me with a curl of his fingers.

The corner of my mouth curled up. Anticipation thrummed through me. The delicious tension was kind of like the few moments leading to orgasm. My body yearned to fight. For the last few days I’d felt off-kilter, a stranger in a strange, magical land. But this filthy fight pit, with its bloodstain varnish on the floor and the lingering scent of sweat and violence, felt like a home away from home.

I blocked everything out but Romulus. Zeroed in on his eyes. My breath deepened. Long, deep inhales followed by slow, emptying exhales. I reached down deep for the tight ball of rage I kept hidden for special occasions. It bloomed like a black rose inside me, releasing the bitterness I’d accumulated over the last month. I called up an image of my grandmother and transposed it on Michael’s face. Oh, yeah, I had plenty of wrath that needed venting on someone. Might as well be the werepuppy.

Something must have changed on my face, because Romulus’s eyes widened and he took a hesitant step back.

My vision blurred around the edges as I flew toward my prey. If he’d been mortal, he wouldn’t have seen me coming. But Romulus was a predator, too. He spun away before I could sink my bared fangs into his flesh. He grabbed my arm and jerked me around, wrenching my shoulder. He swung a fist around and clocked me on the side of my face. Pain bloomed on my cheek, the sting of skin splitting open.

I kicked back and caught him in the ribs. I spat a mouthful of red on the concrete. He crouched low, growling and baring his teeth. He leapt off his haunches and barreled into my midsection. I slammed into the wall. Air escaped my mouth in a whoosh. I looked up to see him barreling toward me. I spun out and caught him in the stomach with a sidekick. He came up with a wicked backhand. I ran at him and wrapped my hands around him, propelling him back. He dug in, fighting the momentum. I clawed at his back, tearing his shirt and scoring my silver-caked nails across his flesh.