by C. E. Smith
"So what does this mean?" I asked him, studying the precise details of the ink imbedded in his skin.
He sighed. "I need His strength since I don’t have any of my own," he said.
"What are you talking about? You’re ridiculously strong," I replied.
He shook his head. "Physically, sure, but not mentally, and not in here," he said, tapping his chest. "And I want to believe that His grace is enough for me. I can only pray it is for all the things I’ve done, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t…" He trailed off and looked away.
It was my turn to reassure him now. "Hey, there is nothing you could have done that He won’t take care of. You’re the strongest person I know and the best person I know. Your love for people knows no limits."
He pulled my head against his chest and rested his chin on top. "You are the strongest person I know," he said. "I don’t know anyone else who wouldn’t be broken after all you’ve been through, but you’ve only come out of it stronger."
I felt myself melt into his arms, and my knees gave out.
"Edyn." Worry was etched into his voice as he held me upright.
"I’m fine," I said. "I’m just tired. I feel drained. I think whatever this is that’s going on with me sucks out my energy when it happens." I leaned against him and tried to straighten my knees but with little luck.
He scooped me up into his arms and held me close. "Let’s get back to bed then." I could tell he was trying to hide his worry.
Casting him a weak smile, I said, "I’m afraid I won’t be quite as much fun now. I feel pretty tapped out."
He laughed, and I felt him relax. "Don’t worry about that. We’ve got the rest of our lives to make love. I told you before," he added, "we’re not going to rush this faster than you want to."
"Oh, you think I don’t want to now?"
"Well you could be faking this whole thing to get out of it." He grinned as he carried me back into the bedroom.
"I’m faking spontaneously and uncontrollably lighting up like freaking carnival ride?" I kicked my feet, his arms still around me, and he laughed. He dropped me unceremoniously on the bed.
"You are so lucky I don’t have all my strength right now, boy." I shot him a look full of fire and playfulness, and a light was ignited in his eyes in response.
"Oh really now? And if you did?" He stood beside the bed peering down at me with his hands on his hips.
I gestured with a finger for him to come closer. He bent down, and I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down onto the bed with me. Laughing, I rolled half on top of him, propping up on my shaking right elbow and cupping his face with my left hand. I was still weak, but too happy to care. He ran his hands down my back and slipped his hands beneath the waistband of my shorts, squeezing my hips. The feeling was electric, and it sapped any strength I had left in my body. I collapsed on top of him, and he sighed laughing.
"I guess we’re going to have to wait a little longer until you feel better, huh?" he asked.
"Unfortunately," I said. "So if that happens before we even have sex, what the Hell is going to happen after? Am I going to sleep for a week?"
He kept one hand on my butt and brought the other up across my back to hold me to him. "I hope not. That would be somewhat problematic for going a second round."
I adored that naughty little smile on his face and pulled the covers over us, throwing my leg across his. Resting my head on his tattoo, I laughed. I was so lucky to be here beside him, even if he would always keep me on my toes.
"What’s so funny?" he asked.
"I was just thanking God for giving you to me, and thinking that I’ve sure got my hands full."
His arms tightened around me, and he kissed the top of my head with a chuckle. "It’s a good thing you love me then," he almost whispered.
I smiled. "I guess it is."
* * *
Boom boom boom.
I stirred.
Boom boom boom.
"Ryker!" A voice shouted. He was out of bed before I could even open my eyes.
Rolling over, I looked at the clock. 6:42 AM. I could hear agitated voices coming from the front door, but I was still groggy so I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Stumbling out of bed, I staggered to the bathroom, splashed water on my face to wake myself up, and felt the cold liquid running down my bare skin. When it hit my back, I realized I was still topless. Heading back into the bedroom, I grabbed Ryker’s t-shirt and pulled it on. I crossed the room to see what all the commotion was, and saw Stella sitting on the couch, her hair a mess and yesterday’s mascara running down her face. Ryker was busy making coffee. I could see scars riddled all over his back that I hadn’t paid attention to before.
"What...?" I started.
Ryker crossed the room and put his arm around my waist, pulling me close. A muscle twitched in his jaw before he planted a kiss on my cheek.
"What’s going on?" I asked.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Stella’s new boy toy, Zak. He lost a bet so he’s been dragged to the Pits."
"Stupid bastard," Stella spat, and another sob wracked her frame.
I drank in the concern on Ryker's face. "The Pits?"
He retrieved a steaming mug of coffee and handed it to Stella. "We’ll be right back," he said. "Then we’ll get going once you finish that." Walking back over to me, he placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me back to our bedroom. "I need to get dressed. I’ve got to go down there with Stella, and get him out of there."
I shook my head as I reached for my jeans. "What are the Pits? Why do you have to get him out of there?"
Ryker pulled an army green t-shirt out of his drawer and over his head. It hugged all his muscles in all the right places, and I couldn’t help studying that gorgeous frame, biting my lip, despite the chaos going on.
He reached out and put his hand on my arm. "You’re not going with us. You’re going to stay here."
I glared at him. "Like Hell I am! What are the Pits?"
He turned his back and rummaged in a drawer for some socks. "They’re the Seventh Circle’s fighting Pits. They’re a sick joke," he said, and laughed without any humor. "Well, I wish they were."
I saw pain written all over his face as he pulled on his jeans and sat to put on his socks. "That still doesn’t explain what they are."
Closing his eyes, he took a breath. "It’s not a good place. Some people fight there on their own, but others are forced into it. If they, say, lose a stupid bet like Zak did, or if they owe somebody quite a bit of money."
"So, what, they just get the shit beaten out of them?"
Ryker shook his head. "Well, yes, but it’s much worse than that. If you’re an Insentient, it’s a fight to the death. If you’re a Quintessent, you get beaten to a bloody pulp and give up your Essence. Some Quintessents don’t survive it anyway. Then there are the ones that are Insentients, but have won or stolen enough Essences from people that when they fight, those are on the line."
"Jesus, why? What's the point?"
He shrugged. "People do some twisted things to get what they want, and enough people of the same mindset got together and started this whole thing."
I pulled Ryker’s shirt off of me to put my bra on, then threw it back over my head. Grabbing some socks, I sat down on the bed next to him and put them on. As I was reaching for my boots, he grabbed my wrist.
"I told you, you’re not going. It’s too dangerous there. And what if you light up again? But, never mind that. It’s too dangerous there."
"If it's too dangerous for me then it's too dangerous for you," I quipped.
Ryker gritted his teeth. "This is not a damn joke."
I stared him down and yanked out of his grip. "Does it look like I'm fucking joking?"
He got right in my face and I jerked back. "Normally, I love when you're a smartass, but now is not the time."
"I’m not a child," I began, but he cut me off.
"What part of 'you're not goin
g’ don't you understand?"
Seething, I got so close that our noses touched. "The part where you say I’m not going. You don’t own me. You’re my boyfriend, not my warden. I get that you want to protect me, but flip the script for just one second. If I was racing off to dive headfirst into danger, and I told you to stay behind, would you listen?"
His eyes narrowed as he chewed on my words.
"Exactly," I said as I cocked a brow.
Being right always felt good.
He retreated and turned away from me. "Dammit, Edyn." His voice changed, the indignation converting to desperation. "I can’t let you get hurt." He slowly turned back to me and pleaded with his eyes, not taking them off me even for a second.
I stood and grabbed his hand before I said, "I won’t. You’ll keep me safe there." Then I pulled him to me and kissed him like my life depended on it. "But I’m not letting you go somewhere that dangerous alone. I can’t let anything happen to you either." I pressed my forehead to his temple and breathed in his Heavenly smell.
He touched my face, eyes still closed. "I can’t…"
"You don’t have a choice. I’m going," I said with finality.
He sighed. "Stubborn as Hell. But what if you light up again? With all those people around?"
"Well, if that happens we’ll deal with it. Who knows, maybe people will see it and realize it’s probably a good idea to stay away from us or something."
"Or, they could do the exact opposite and try to kill you."
I lowered my voice to a whisper, "I’m not letting you go without me. If something were to happen…"
"Nothing will happen to me. I’ve been there before. I can handle myself."
I stayed quiet for a moment as he laced up his boots. "Is that where all your scars came from?"
He sucked in a breath.
"I’m sorry," I added quickly. "You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked like that. I’m sorry."
"No, it’s okay. I’m surprised it took you this long to ask." He looked away. "Yes. My scars are from the Pits mostly. Some are from my— my father, but most are from the Pits."
"Wow," I said quickly, not sure which was worse: enduring Samuel’s torture or having to fight like that.
He hung his head. "It wasn’t something I ever wanted to do, so please don’t think that. I wasn’t given a choice."
I reached for him. "I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone unless you had to."
Taking my hand, he said, "I wish it were that simple."
As soon as he finished, Stella called out, "Hey Ryker? We need to get going? We don’t have much time."
"Sure, Stel. We’re coming," he said and stood up, not looking at me.
My heart broke for him. There was so much pain in his past that I didn’t even know about, but part of me didn’t want to know about it.
9
W e hurried along the tunnels to an area I hadn't been to before. We were headed north and passed the station where Ryker and I had gone to the park. My legs were burning with the effort of making our way to the Pits. Ryker hadn’t offered up any more information about his experiences there, and I didn’t ask, not knowing whether he didn’t want to tell me, or Stella, or both of us.
It was surprisingly chilly down here, and I pulled the leather jacket Stella had given me tighter around my body. Even in the dim light, I could see my vibrant crimson hair contrasting with the supple black leather.
As if he knew what I was thinking, Ryker said, "You’re going to get a lot of looks down here. For one, because you’re with me, and for two, because you just look so damn good. So keep your head down."
"What about me?" Stella asked, feigning a pout.
"They’ve seen you with me before," he replied.
I wondered how detailed their history really was. It was odd how quickly things had changed between them once I came into the picture. Part of me did feel a little guilty for taking him away from her.
I liked Stella.
Ryker grabbed my hand and squeezed. "Edyn, love, I need you to prepare yourself for what goes on down here. Saying it’s brutal is an understatement. Do not let your guard down, and watch your back every second. I want you to stay close to Stella, and Zak once we get to him. Whatever happens to me, do not intervene. They won’t hesitate to take you out."
I squeezed back an "okay" since I was rendered speechless, which for me was a rarity. We continued on for a while and made our way down several tunnels that branched off of the main one. As we moved further down one of the tunnels, we passed a few people coming from the other direction. They slowed to look at us, and I could hear them whispering. I couldn’t make out anything other than "Invincible" and wondered what the Hell they were talking about. The noise of a busy crowded area floated along the rock walls, and I knew we must be close.
Ryker pulled us into a side tunnel as more people approached, and grabbed my shoulders. "Remember what I told you. Do not get in the middle of anything for me. No matter what happens." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a sheathed knife. It was massive, and I could feel its weight in my hand the second he handed it to me. The sheath was made out of a tough black material that looked like something military grade. Meager lights above us glinted off the shiny steel butt of the handle. The grip itself was black and steel intertwined, and it felt much like the sheath did.
"What’s this for?" I asked him.
He curled my fingers around it. "Just in case. I will do my best to protect you down here, I swear that on my life, but you’ll have to be without me for a bit. You’ll be with Stella and Zak, but I want you armed."
I shook my head. "I don’t understand."
Kissing my forehead and pulling me close, he said, "I know. This is something I hoped you’d never have to be a part of." He took my hand and started leading us back to the larger tunnel.
Before I could point out his severe lack of an explanation, I saw tears running down Stella’s face, and caught a glimpse of anger when she met my gaze. My heart caught in my throat as I imagined what it would feel like if Ryker were in Zak’s place, and I were in hers. I’m sure anger would’ve been in the mix somewhere.
Ryker didn’t let go of my hand as we made our way down the tunnel. More and more people were coming from the other end. Every person we encountered stared and whispered. Stella trailed behind us, and here and there I heard her stifle a sob.
A few moments later, the tunnel opened up into a massive cavern. It reminded me for a brief moment of the Centriole, but it was far more crowded and filthy. Despite its size, there were too many people in the space. We could move through the crowd relatively unhindered, but there was trash and debris everywhere. It was loud in here, and smoke, sweat, and blood filled the air. I shuddered as a hand in the crowd grazed my arm. Ahead of us was a platform with several computers and a bunch of men surrounding them.
Giant glass containers stood on each end of the platform, filled with, well, Hell if I knew. It was a swirling ethereal pale blue, glowing something. It seemed almost like smoke, but it was all lit up and just a little more solid looking.
Hanging on the wall above everything was a giant digital board that listed fights by pit number and opponents. The board was ever changing. Odds were listed next to each fight and were constantly updating. Some of the names were illuminated in white, while others were lit up in light blue. Another column listed the stakes next to each fight. Some said "Life-Life", others read "Soul-Soul". More still read "Life-Soul" and vice versa. I saw a few that said, "2 Souls-Life".
"How can you wager more than just your one soul?" I asked, trying to be heard over the cacophony.
Ryker tensed a bit but didn’t answer.
"Ryker?" I yelled.
Stella leaned in, her mouth centimeters from my ear, her breath tickling my hair. "You can buy, steal, or win other people’s souls. The more souls you have, the better off you’ll be since you’ll usually have at least one left if you lose."
I turned and looked at her. "How do
you store an extra soul exactly? Do you just carry it around in a bottle or something?"
Stella’s expression was grim. "You’ll see."
Ryker led us up to the platform, and let go of my hand. "Hey," he called out to a guy standing on the edge of the platform with a tablet in his hand. The guy was wearing a blood red skin tight athletic shirt and black jeans. There was a ring in his nose and gauges in his ears. He looked up and cocked a smile as he approached.
"Evans," he said. "We haven’t seen you around here for a while. Miss us?"
"Yeah, yeah, hi Jax." Ryker said. "I need to sub out someone."
Jax’s eyebrows found his hairline. "Really? You’re serious?"
"Yes," Ryker responded. "Zakary Smith, pit twelve."
Jax tapped away on his tablet. On the board behind him, the line that said Pit 12 lit up. It was a "Life-Life" match, and both names were in white. "That’s not even an Essence fight. Why do you want to jump into that when there’s not a soul to win? Asher screw your girl or something?" he laughed.
"Just swap me out," Ryker’s voice took on an edge of anger.
"Alright, alright, but it’s going to cost you. You’ve been away too long and this fight is supposed to start in fifteen minutes. You’re going to mess up the betting pool so you’ll have to buy in."
Ryker gave him a dismissive wave. "Whatever, I don’t care."
Jax shrugged. "Alright then. It’s two souls to buy in and two souls to Asher if he wins. If you win, you’ll get $1200."
Stella took a step forward. "How is that fair? He’s out two to four souls, and Asher Nightly doesn’t even have one on the line! And he’ll only get a measly $1200?"
Jax laughed. "Cupcake, if he’d come to sub out a half hour ago it would’ve been half that. Your boy here likes to cut it a little too close though. Maybe keep your legs together next time, and he won’t have to come and knock the shit out of some dickhead here."
Stella took a step back and her cheeks turned scarlet.
"Hey," Ryker yelled at him. "You know that’s not it. Leave her out of this."