by Jasmine Walt
As if sensing my disconcertion, Eamon neatly changed the subject.
“Can you drive?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“You can use my car. There are energy bars in the glove compartment.”
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and drew out a handful of bills. “Take this. You need to keep cash on you. No Payall card payments. Narada could use them to trace you.”
I opened my mouth to protest, then changed my mind. I’d need the cash if my Payall was a no-go. I tucked the notes into my trouser pocket.
“I’ll pay you back.”
“No need.”
Of course there was, but he was being a dad. I’d pay him back when the shit had been cleaned off the fan. Drake returned, clutching what looked like a pendant hanging from a chain. He held it out to me. I took it, turning it over in my hands. The chain was silver with a twisted silver symbol hanging off it that resembled an intricate snowflake.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s a Hulinhjalmur, an ancient Icelandic symbol that can render you invisible. The ingredients were . . . strange, and I didn’t think you’d go for it.”
“Strange? In what way?”
“Oh, you know, blood from your right index finger, blood from your left ring finger . . .”
“Sounds simple enough.”
“A drop of blood from your left nipple, and one from your right—”
“Ah, okay, so you circumvented that?”
“Yeah, I tinkered with it. It doesn’t make you invisible, but it does mask your supernatural abilities. If Narada is searching for you, he won’t be able to get a lock on your location.”
I slipped on the necklace. The chain was long enough for the pendant to nestle snugly in my cleavage. A tiny frisson of awareness ran over my body, as if a layer of electricity was sinking into my skin, and then it was over.
“Did you feel anything?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Just don’t take it off,” Drake warned.
“You don’t have to do this, Malina,” Eamon said.
But I did. I needed to do something useful. Something good.
“I know, but I want to. Where can I find this Ajitah?”
14
Sweat, blood, and body odor.
Thank goodness I’d dressed down.
The underground arena was huge. A disused car park converted into a killing ground. Supernaturals milled about, not bothering to pop a veil over who they were. Yaksha showcased fur and claw while vamps flashed fang and glowing eyes. I even spotted a couple of Ghandarva—beautiful beings with bare torsos, wings tucked against their backs—watching the performances with amusement.
As for the entertainment . . . a domed cage rose in the center of the room, and two creatures ripped chunks out of each other inside it. Fur, fang, blood, and gore painted the inside of the arena. The crowd was going wild.
My senses had always been sharp, but since the change, they were supercharged. It was kind of disorientating and took me a moment to center myself and pull it back.
A female yaksha wandered by, carrying a tray of tankards. “Hey.” I stopped her with a gentle touch to the arm. “You know where I can find Ajitah?”
She looked me up and down, her pretty green eyes the only human thing about her feral face. Her voice was thick and distorted by her muzzle. “You’re wasting your time. He won’t fuck you.”
“Whoa . . . who said I wanted to fuck?”
The female’s nostrils flared. “I can smell a bitch in heat a mile off.”
Well, there was no arguing with a yaksha’s nose. “Well, I best add a shag to my to-do list then.”
She made a strangled sound, which, from the crinkle of her eyes, was a chuckle. “He’s at the bar. Other side of the arena. Welcome to The Circle.” And then she was clearing a path through the throng, tray held out like a lethal weapon.
Welcome to The Circle indeed. I was standing inside an urban myth, a place that was whispered about in polite company and speculated about in bars. Humans knew they were no longer at the top of the food chain, but eons of being kept in the dark had given them a habit of burying their heads in the sand. They explained away the supernatural wherever possible because it made them uncomfortable, and it reminded them that their world was no longer the safe, orderly place it had once been. Even the existence of gods wasn’t enough to bring them peace of mind, especially when the neighbor down the street was a dead woman walking. They ignored the fact that companies such as Brahma Corp and Shaitan Enterprises were run by gods and supernatural creatures. The humans also turned blind eyes to the fact that their government was essentially a council made up of these races. Most of them preferred to exist in their specially prepared bubbles until something happened to pop them out. The Circle was everything they wanted to forget, and one of the only places where the supernaturals came to blow off steam and be as vicious and nasty as their natures intended them to be.
What happened in The Circle stayed in The Circle.
I’d learned a long time ago that the line between good and evil wasn’t delineated by race or birthright, but by deeds. Yaksha and Vampires weren’t inherently evil. They were simply predators forced to live by their prey’s rules. And so far, humans, with the aid of the gods, had succeeded in dominating them, but they couldn’t subjugate their natures.
The Circle was a place for these predators to be let loose.
I wound my way through the crowd, circling the arena to get to the bar on the other side.
“Hey, pretty lady.”
An arm slid around my waist, and I was yanked against a solid chest while someone’s crotch went to town on my arse. I wasn’t averse to a little bump and grind, but those kinds of moves should be reserved for the dance floor. This bloke was also getting a little too excited.
A quick jab in the ribs with my bony elbow, followed by a heel to the top of his foot, had him releasing me quickly enough.
“Bitch.”
I spun, greeted by his hairy face and snarling snout. Just my luck—a yaksha.
I held up my hands. “You shouldn’t touch without an invitation.”
He cocked his shaggy head, his bloodshot blue eyes startlingly human on his beastly face. “Karl doesn’t need an invitation.”
I sighed and shook my head. “See, by talking about yourself in the third person, you’re just compounding my assessment of you as a Neanderthal.”
“What?”
I leaned in. “It just makes you sound dense.”
He blinked, and movement in the periphery of my vision alerted me to the swipe of his claws just in time to leap out of range.
Shit. First rule of yaksha engagement—never antagonize them when they’re in beast form. The breed was ruled by a separate set of instincts when in their animal skin. A snarl ripped through the air, and the other nearby creatures stumbled back as this one lunged at me.
I evaded again, but barely.
Hand-to-hand combat was no problem, but in this case, it would be hand-to-claw. My fingers itched to draw Vindra from her sheath, but I resisted the urge because once I did that, I would be declaring I wanted a fight, and there would be no backing down. I wasn’t averse to a brawl, but I’d come here on business, not to play batter the yaksha.
Karl lowered his head and charged.
Okay, maybe I wasn’t going to get a choice in the matter after all. My hand curled around Vindra’s hilt, ready to unsheathe her, when a bare back blocked my view.
“Back off, Karl, the lady isn’t interested.”
The scent of a thunderstorm, sharp and powerful, filled my head. I craned my neck to look at the body acting as a shield between my attacker and me. Karl shook his head in disgust while slinking back.
My savior turned to face me, glaring down his nose from a lofty height.
“If you’re going to frequent The Circle, you need to learn not to antagonize the patrons. Karl isn’t averse to ripping off a head or two.” The stranger’s
voice was smooth and cultured, a contradiction to the lean, built-for-battle body standing before me.
I stared into his pale eyes, the strangest shade of gray, almost silver. “Yes, I probably should. Thanks for stepping in.”
He nodded curtly. “You’re welcome.”
The guy’s hair was inky black, pulled back and secured at the nape of his neck. His chest was smooth and taut, beaded with perspiration. Had he been fighting in the arena? I caught the furrow of his brows before he masked his expression. He made to turn away.
“Wait.”
He paused, but he kept his gaze averted.
“I’m looking for someone called Ajitah. Do you know him?”
The muscles in his shoulders tensed. “What do you want with him?”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Ajitah doesn’t come here to talk. He comes to fight. Save yourself some time and effort. Turn around and leave.”
He took a step, and I moved to block his path. “You seem to be talking fine now, Ajitah.”
He fixed his gaze over my head. “What do you want?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
He exhaled through his nose, his attention dropping to my chest. “Not interested.”
I’d covered them up as best as I could, but the girls always seemed to find a way to shine.
“Not that kind of proposition. A business proposition.”
He leaned in until his breath tickled my ear, and his woodsy scent filled my head.
“Not. Interested.”
He pushed gently past me and disappeared into the crowd.
Shit. Now what? He obviously didn’t want to talk to me, and it wasn’t as if I could force him to stand still and listen to my offer. If I could just get a few minutes with him, then maybe . . . An idea formed in my mind. If Aaron or Carmella were here, they’d tell me I was crazy. If Eamon were here, he’d probably go nuts. But they weren’t here, and there was no way I was going back to the gothic gateway house and telling Eamon I’d failed. I needed this win. I needed it bad . . .
Looked like I was going to get to play after all.
15
“You’re one crazy bitch,” the female yaksha server said.
I shook out my limbs, jumping up and down a couple of times while waiting for the arena doors to open.
“You’re going against Karl after you rejected him?”
My stomach quivered. “Yep.”
She leaned in, her whiskers brushing against my cheek. “If you make it out alive, I’ll buy you a drink. If you hurt him, I’ll buy you three drinks.”
“Um . . . thanks?”
Her hand, claws and all, closed around my wrist. “If you kill him, I’ll buy you drinks for the rest of your life.”
There was something in those bright green eyes of hers, the dark shadow of a memory. I opened my mouth to ask, but the yaksha shook her head.
The cage rattled as the doors slid open with a grating sound that put my teeth on edge.
“Be safe, strange-smelling human.”
Exhaling to ground myself, I stepped into the arena.
The doors clattered shut behind me, and a set of doors on the opposite side of the arena scraped open. Karl stepped into the cage, his jaws snapping with anticipation.
“You can do this, Malina. Just stay focused and don’t lose momentum,” I muttered. Three fights and three wins would put me in Ajitah’s path.
Karl snarled. “No Ajitah to save your arse now. That orifice is all mine. What happens in The Circle stays in The Circle.”
Ice trickled through my veins. He wasn’t interested in fighting me. He wanted to . . . Oh, hell no!
He cupped his crotch, his breathing rapid and excited.
I pulled Vindra from her sheath. “Get it out if you want to lose it, wolf boy.”
He obscenely rubbed himself. “I’ll be losing it in your tight arse.”
“Bored now.”
I attacked, taking him off guard, and caught him in the head with a well-aimed kick before spinning away. He lunged but caught air. Dropping to the ground, he launched himself at me, claws out and ready to slice. I brought Vindra up and across my body in a slashing motion. Karl howled and fell back, nursing bleeding palms.
“Gonna fuck you, bitch.”
Ignoring the threat, I tracked him as he bounded to the left, circling and sticking to the edge of the cage. Faster and faster he ran. It was a solid tactic. Force me to track him, make me dizzy, and get me off balance.
But I’d been trained by the best.
Planting myself in the center of the ring, I exhaled, closed my eyes, and shut out the world. I focused on the click of his claws, his erratic panting, and the musky animal scent.
One orbit, two orbits, three orbits.
I knew he was going to make his move a fraction of a second before he did. I dropped and spun, sweeping Vindra out at a forty-five-degree angle with enough force to puncture. I made contact, my sweep dragging as it pierced flesh.
Karl’s grunt was followed by a whine.
He fell to the ground, clutching his abdomen and taking Vindra with him. I’d aimed high enough not to pierce anything vital, but gone deep enough to incapacitate. I didn’t want more kills on my conscience, no matter how deserving of it he might be. I stepped back, watching as he bled. Vindra vanished only to reappear in my sheath. He’d heal, but not quickly enough to win this fight. Two more steps away from him, and the world filtered back in, bathing me in the roar of the crowd. The gate behind me opened with a clatter. Time to make my exit.
I stepped out of the arena and gasped as Ajitah’s huge hand clasped my forearm. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
Well, this was unexpected. I’d planned to get into the arena with him, but his concern for my welfare could prove to be another great tactic. Time to change tack.
I shrugged. “Just passing the time until you agree to talk to me.”
His lips thinned. “Go home before you get seriously hurt.” He dropped my arm and walked away.
His cold demeanor didn’t fool me. If he were such an uncaring bastard, he wouldn’t have stepped in between Karl and me earlier, and he wouldn’t care if I got my ass handed to me in the arena. If Eamon was intent on recruiting him, the guy had to have some saving grace.
New plan in place, I headed to the bar for a much-needed drink before fight number two. I’d barely placed my hand on the counter when three shot glasses appeared before me.
“I’m a woman of my word,” the female yaksha said.
“Thanks, but I’d best only have one. Got to stay sharp for the next fight.”
“I’ll save the other two for later then.”
I downed the drink and asked the question that was sitting on the tip of my tongue. “What did he do to you?”
She picked up a rag and began wiping the bar too vigorously. “Not did—does. He does whatever he wants because he owns me.”
“What do you mean he owns you?”
“My father, the alpha of the Shakti pack, gave me to Karl’s pack three years ago in exchange for a debt. I’m his bitch until the debt is paid.”
“How could he give you away like that?”
“Our pack views females as little more than possessions to be bartered. We’re used however the males see fit. Daughters are given into marriage against their will in exchange for dowry or used to forge pack alliances. As far as my father was concerned, it was just business, and it was my duty to pay his debt.”
“How bloody large was the debt?”
She snorted. “A couple of thousand.”
“And your father hasn’t managed to pay Karl back in three years?”
She looked away. “I haven’t heard from him since he gave me to Karl.”
I wasn’t sure what to think, but I knew what to feel. It bubbled up inside me—my own personal lava waiting to overflow.
“Thank you,” she said. “Seeing him lying there, bleeding, has been the highlight of my year. What’s your name?�
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“Malina.”
“Nina.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Nina.”
Her gaze slid over my shoulder. “I think you’re up next, Malina. You’re fighting Bart. He’s a rakshasa.”
“I thought they were extinct?”
She snorted. “Not extinct. Just solitary and elusive. He’s strong, but I’ve noticed he doesn’t take blows to the head well. A hard hit there and he goes down every time.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. You have to get a strike in first.”
I turned for the arena, ready to kick some rakshasa ass, but the previous fight wasn’t over yet. I recognized at least one of the fighters.
Ajitah.
His face was expressionless as he sat astride his opponent and swung his arms in a rhythmic pummeling motion.
“He’s a fucking machine,” someone to my left said.
“Yeah, never loses. Always make my money back on Ajitah.”
“You know what he is?”
“A shaitan blood maybe? I’ve heard they can be pretty powerful, with a thirst for violence. Would explain why he’s here almost every day.”
Shaitan blood were one of the most dangerous evolutions of the human/Shaitan union. They blended into human society so well and combined the best of both races—a perfect human façade over a demonic endoskeleton. If it were true, then it would explain Eamon’s eagerness to have Ajitah on board. He was the perfect fighting machine.
The match was over too soon. Ajitah climbed off his opponent and shook out his arms to loosen the muscles. I tried to catch his gaze as he turned away, but there was nothing but a dead emptiness behind those pale eyes. It sent a chill skating up my spine.
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Before I knew it, my name was being called, and the doors to the cage clattered open. I stepped in, and the cycle began again. Ajitah stood on the other side of the fence, arms crossed over his broad chest. The dead look had been replaced with one of steely disapproval.
Where the yaksha had been all muscled haunches and arms, the rakshasa was built from head to toe, and he obviously liked to show it off. He entered the ring in a pair of gym shorts and nothing else. Bare feet . . . bare everything.