by K M Martinez
Gabe’s smile widened, but he said nothing.
“Nothing to fucking say, Mendez? Too fucking stupid to talk?”
Gabe just rolled his shoulders and waited for Anton to make his move.
The crowd let out a deep roar, but when the two fighters merely stood there, the cheer turned to boos. Still, Gabe held his ready position. He wanted Anton to make the first move.
After what seemed an age, Anton finally surged forward. Gabe was able to block the takedown attempt by putting all his upper body weight on Anton’s back and neck, forcing Anton down to the sand. Gabe swung his legs around and was on Anton’s back so quickly, the Janso didn’t have a chance to get on his feet. From there, he started kneeing Anton brutally in the liver, hoping to lay in some serious punishment. Anton took two knee shots before wrestling away.
Gabe leapt to his feet and kicked at Anton’s face. The blow was glancing, and the two exchanged a series of punches and kicks. Some of Anton’s strikes got past Gabe’s defenses, but the blows had no power behind them. Gabe knew then that his two knee shots had done some damage.
Anton grew frustrated with the lack of effect his blows were having. And when Anton was losing, it was a safe bet he would lash out like a cornered animal. Gabe prepared himself for Anton’s worst. He would not be a victim to Anton’s skullduggery. He swore to make the Janso descendant pay for all the offenses he had committed since the Agora began. And so far, he was well on his way to doing that: Anton was bleeding from cuts on his face, arm, and side.
Gabe was weighing whether to toy with him some more, or simply finish him off, when he felt a sharp sting. One of Anton’s punches had landed on his stomach, and although there was still no power behind it, Gabe immediately felt wetness and knew he was bleeding.
He was pretty damn sure the wound hadn’t been caused by Anton’s punch alone.
Fucking cheater.
The crowd roared at the sight of blood. The voices were deafening, and Gabe could barely hear his own thoughts.
Concentrate, he thought before another one of Anton’s punches landed on his right shoulder. This time there was no mistaking it; Anton had clearly stabbed him with something. The wicked smile on Anton’s face was telling—and the look was one of sheer malice. The sight brought Gabe’s smile back.
You want to play, Anton? Fine. We’ll play.
Gabe committed a move he would’ve never done to another competitor, as it lacked honor. He kicked sand in Anton’s eyes. Then he kicked Anton’s feet out from under him and wrapped his arm around Anton’s neck. Anton tried to fight his way out of the chokehold, but once Gabe got someone in this position, there was no getting out of it. Soon the Janso’s movements became sluggish and weak.
The moments when Gabe could feel Anton’s life slipping away were blissful and heavenly. Anton’s breathing slowed, his strength drained—like it was slipping through one of those funnels Gabe used to play with as a kid. Drop the penny in and it circled and circled and circled until it got to the end, where in a flurry it would drop through. That’s all Anton was to him: a penny circling a funnel.
But just before the penny fell in, Gabe’s eyes found Siva’s in the crowd. She was looking at him with intense concentration, eyes fierce.
And at the last second, Gabe pushed Anton away from him.
Tío Luce immediately got up from his seat and checked on Anton, who was passed out on the sand.
“Winner Kale!”
The Kale section cheered.
Gabe met Siva’s eyes again. She gave him a smile that sent flurries through his stomach. He put his fist in the air and reveled in the cheering. He felt happier than he had in days.
For once the jackal didn’t win.
Chapter Twelve
“Get your brother under control,” Cori O’Shea said in frustration. “And I’d like to talk to Mel. What does it take to get an audience with the Kale princess?”
Victor sighed. This strange belief went around that he had some control over his siblings, but it was completely untrue. He had about as much control over Gabe and Mel as he had over the weather. Those two were the wind—they blew in and out, sometimes heavy, sometimes light, but always in their own time.
But there was no point trying to explain that to Cori. For all her comments about Mel being a princess, she might as well have been talking about herself. After all, she was the one who had grown up in an actual castle, and she didn’t respond to “no” any better than Mel did.
Well, I suppose women in general all hate being told no. Victor tried not to think of his wife, though that situation was never far from his mind.
Victor also was not in the mood for Cori O’Shea—especially not now, not right after his match. He’d almost won, injured hand and all, but he couldn’t grip, nor could he make a fist. That didn’t make for an easy fight, and still he fought hard and well. But in the end, he came up short—his opponent put him to sleep with a chokehold.
And now Cori O’Shea wanted to talk to him about private clan business in the middle of the arena.
“Look, I’ll ask Mel if she’s willing to see you,” he told Cori quietly. “You did find her. We do appreciate it. So much so we didn’t ask you how you found her.”
Cori got uncharacteristically quiet at that.
“It’s her you offended,” Victor continued. “Not me. Not even Gabe. Gabe is just being Gabe. But if you convince Mel that you’re with her—or at the very least not with Anton—then she’ll get Gabe to let up.”
“Fine,” Cori said. “Try to get her to see me before Ambulant Laboriosum. I want to get this issue settled before the helicopter lifts.”
Good luck with that, Victor thought. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” She moved in close. “Had any luck with finding the head of the snake?”
“No,” he said quietly. “At the moment, I’m looking into the committee.”
The past few nights, he and Thrash had snuck back home. Thrash was a bit of a computer wiz, and with access to his machine, he had been able to look into most of the committee. They had come up with nothing.
“I would set your sights higher,” Cori said. She flicked her eyes to where the Sapientis were sitting.
Victor had been thinking that as well, and they were next on his list. At first, he hadn’t wanted to believe one of the Sapientis would do such a thing, but his grandmother had said the Eighth Clan could be anywhere. And someone among them had to have influence and power, as there was no way Anton would submit to anyone he viewed as his peer.
“I’ve also got some news for you,” Cori said quietly. “My clansman looked into Mel’s attacker. Turns out the guy hanged himself in his holding cell.”
Victor’s eyes widened.
“We think he had help,” Cori continued, those glacial eyes looking toward the Sapientis again. “So let me know if you need anything. Anything at all. I’m as interested as you in this matter.”
She turned and walked back to the Ferus section.
“What’d she want?”
Victor turned around to find Gabe walking up behind him. His brother had put on a shirt and had apparently battled the crowd to get some water.
Victor took the water bottle out of his hand and took a huge swig. “She wants to talk to Mel.”
“I bet she does,” Gabe said, taking back his water bottle and taking a swig of his own. “How’s the hand?”
Victor held up his swollen hand and tried to make a fist. Unsuccessfully.
“Well,” Gabe said, “that looks fucking hopeful.”
“At least it’s not broken,” Victor said with a snort.
Not that it mattered; he had no regrets. He’d withdrawn from Libero only because he needed to know Mel was okay. If not for that, there wouldn’t have been anything short of death that would’ve stopped him from competing.
“Thank the good Lord for small miracles,” said Gabe with a wide smile.
Gabe was clearly still flying high over his defeat of Anton
. Victor had to admit that had felt sweet for him too, watching his brother put Anton to sleep.
“Gabe!” Tío Jorge was walking toward them. “You’ve been paired with Cori O’Shea in the next match.”
Gabe looked up at the sky. “God is good.”
Victor cracked a smile. “You better watch it,” he said lightly. “She’s savage. In her first match, she nearly bit off that Janso’s finger, remember?”
“Oh, brotha, you ain’t gotta worry about me. I’ll put the wolf bitch down.”
“We’ll see.”
“Brotha, you don’t believe in me? I’m crushed.”
Victor just shook his head and turned toward the current match. A Tam male was fighting a Moors woman with kung fu. He overwhelmed her, forcing her down and unconscious in a matter of minutes. Two medics moved in quickly, as did a Moors man who appeared to be her significant other.
“That better not happen to you,” Jonah said to Charlotte. They were seated nearby. “Or I’ll never talk to you again. I swear, I’ll—”
“Cry like a bitch,” Gabe said.
Jonah gave Gabe a hard look, but Gabe just grinned back at him.
Gabe had been tweaking Jonah for the last couple of days, ever since Jonah had forgiven Charlotte for their last argument. Every time a descendant came out of a game bloody or hurt, Jonah would say something to Charlotte about what he would do if that happened to her. Usually it was some kind of threat that he’d leave or never talk to her again. Victor thought it was bullshit.
“What’s your fucking problem, Gabe?” Jonah said.
Victor was impressed. He didn’t think Jonah had it in him.
“Oh, I don’t got a problem,” Gabe said. Then he twisted his face like he was thinking. “Well… there is the fact that I think you’re a ball-less shit.”
Victor nodded. Jonah was a ball-less shit.
“Gabe!” Charlotte snapped. “Leave him alone!”
“Charlotte, I’m just saying—why can’t you find a good guy? One who’s not afraid of a little blood? Who won’t fucking leave you if you fail at a game. Come on! You’re a female who competes. You’re a fucking goddess to some of these guys, and you’re going out with this guy? This guy? Who’ll leave you if you fail? If you fail? Really? For real?”
“Shut up, Gabe!”
“Mel would tell you the same thing. So would Thrash!”
“I mean it, Gabe, be quiet! This is none of your business. It’s my life, and I choose who I want to be with, not you, not Thrash, and not Mel.”
Charlotte was holding Jonah by the arm, keeping him close. Jonah’s eyes were alight with anger at Gabe.
“Jonah, I have to say, it looks like you want to hit my brother,” Victor said calmly. “And you could do that. But let me tell you: it’s not going to end well for you.”
Charlotte grabbed Jonah and pulled him away.
“Nice going, brotha,” said Victor.
“Hey brotha, that asshole deserved it.”
Victor couldn’t argue with that, but there were better ways to do things. There were always better ways to do things.
“Ready, Gabe?” someone yelled.
Gabe got up and took off his shirt with a flourish. “I was fucking born ready!” With a million-watt smile and a cocky wink, he jaunted into the pit.
The Kale section cheered.
Victor just shook his head.
****
Cori O’Shea met Gabe at the center of the pit. She was wearing Ferus green, skin-tight shiny pants with a silver sash. A silver sports bra covered her breasts. Gabe’s eyes slid over them for a split second, and he decided that Siva’s were better.
“Oh, happy day,” Gabe said. “First Anton Morel, and now Cori O’Shea? God is good.”
“God is good,” said Cori. “But not for you, Mendez.”
“Mendez? Are we not on a first-name basis anymore?”
Cori made a noise in the back of her throat.
“Whoa! Did you just growl at me?”
Before Cori could reply, Gabe crouched into a ready position, and as if the act itself was someone waving a starting flag, Cori attacked Gabe with a ferocity that surprised him.
Gabe blocked most of her punches, but some made it through his guard. He tried to knee her, but she blocked it and moved out of his reach. Gabe then charged her and took her to the ground. Cori tried to move out of Gabe’s half mount by attempting to sweep out from under him, but Gabe was not easily moved, and he was determined to get her into a submission hold. Unfortunately for him, Cori knew exactly what he was up to, and would not allow him to get a good hold around her neck, arms, or legs.
Finally Gabe resorted to simply punching Cori in the face, again and again, trying to weaken her. Her nose and mouth bled freely, and her sweat made the flow look worse than it already was.
Furiously, she spit blood in Gabe’s eyes and made another attempt to slip out from under him. By this time, they were both so slick with sweat that she managed it.
The Ferus side yelled in approval when they saw Cori leap to her feet, and they screamed even louder when she kicked Gabe in the face. Gabe backed away unsteadily, and Cori, sensing his weakness, pursued him with swift brutality. She kicked him in his side so hard it felt like her shin was a two-by-four. Or a bat. Yes, a bat. He knew what that felt like; he’d angered an ex-girlfriend once to the point of crazed, murderous intent. Yes, he knew what being hit by a bat felt like.
Amazingly he kept his feet, and when Cori followed with a right cross, he dodged her punch, grabbed her arm, and flipped her over his shoulder. She fell with a spray of sand, and again he attempted to mount her, but this time Cori squirmed away. She threw an elbow while he was still on the ground, scrambling after her. He could tell from the way she flailed that it was a desperate move, but when her elbow struck right behind his ear, it knocked off his equilibrium. When he tried to get up, he couldn’t even get his feet under him.
Lucky shot, he thought, and then Cori’s foot appeared in his vision.
After that, everything went black.
Chapter Thirteen
Mel woke up in the middle of the night feeling uncomfortably hot. She pushed the covers off and lay still, letting the cool air chill her skin. After a moment, she tested her limbs, and was surprised by how good they felt. No pain, and amazingly, no tiredness.
She sat up and saw Thrash sleeping a few feet from her. He looked odd to her, lying down with his dislocated arm in a sling.
“Thrash.”
Her cousin didn’t stir.
“Thrash! Wake up!”
Mel shook him. Thrash opened his eyes and looked up balefully.
“What. Do. You. Want?”
“I feel better. Let’s get out of here.”
“Grandma said you had to—”
“Aw, screw that. I want out.”
Mel didn’t like this room. Even though it had saved her somehow, she just… didn’t like it. It was like a cage.
She got up and looked for her shoes. She found them bunched up with her dirty clothes. She was disappointed when she saw they were sandals. Why couldn’t I have put on some tennis shoes? she thought as she put them on.
Thrash was still just sitting there, looking off into space with a strange expression.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Then, after a moment: “Well, that’s not true. I don’t know how you’re getting around, Mel.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s pitch black in here.”
“Uh, no,” Mel said. “I can see you clear as day.”
“That explains how you’re moving around like you know where shit is. But I turned off the lamp.”
She looked. Indeed, the lamp was unlit.
“Can you see my eyes?” Mel asked with trepidation.
“No. I’m not staring at a pair of glowing yellow eyes, if that’s what you mean.”
“Well thank God for that.”
Thrash let out a nervous laugh. “Come on,�
�� he said. “Lead me out of here, since you’ve got night vision and all.”
****
After grabbing her stone, Mel led Thrash through the unfamiliar hallways. As they walked, Thrash told Mel about how Gabe had been beaten pretty badly by Cori in hand-to-hand Decerto, and how he was still laid up in the medic tent. He also mentioned that Cori had wanted to speak to Mel concerning the issues between them, but since Mel had been asleep, Victor had told Cori she would have to wait.
“So… are you going to call off Gabe?” Thrash asked.
“I’m not feeling too inclined,” Mel grumbled.
“Mel… we wouldn’t even have found you if it weren’t for her. Then where would you be?”
Mel thought about how it felt when she woke from Inter Spatium Caelum. The pain had been excruciating—her bones felt like they were being stretched, her flesh felt like it was going to split, her muscles were taut and wet, her blood was boiling and racing… and all of it radiated from her chest. Her heart. Her heart was beating like a piston, pushing then pulling, pushing then pulling her body into destruction.
Then she remembered the sweet relief when her body started to quiet. When she felt the quiet strength of someone holding her hand, with no fear and no judgment.
“Fine. I’ll talk to Gabe when he wakes up, and get him to back off. But I’m not in any hurry to speak to Cori. She’ll just have to deal with not having that conversation.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” said Thrash. “That woman is hell-bent on making things right between you two. She’s been a bear since the last time you spoke to her, and she’ll continue to be a bear until you forgive her. She loves you.”
“She doesn’t love me,” Mel said, but doubt flooded her. The feel of Cori’s hand in hers was much too fresh in her mind… and then there were the memories from before. Of kindness and fleeting glances. Of moments charged and heavy with unsaid words. The words were never spoken between them, even then, long ago. Back then, Mel thought they had all the time in the world… to feel the inevitable pull…
And then there were words, harsh ones, words meant to make her scream in frustration. Mel could never give the red-haired Ferus the satisfaction of a reaction.