Gone was the softness of his earlier observances. Instead, here was a woman with nothing but hard angles and planes, an indifferent and cool stare met those of her team.
Those that she would fight.
Not a one had softness for her.
Beth stood alone.
Jeb looked at the five others, all males and a slight furrow tied his brows together in the shadow of a frown.
She was sorely outmatched physically, though the recruits were all equal in years. Recruits graduated each year in small groups, all at twenty cycles of age, as it had always been.
Jeb studied Jasper, assessing her as all Reflectives could. Five feet two; curves she couldn't mask, even with the bland Reflective uniform; stood in stark relief. Her black hair was in a tight braid that stopped at her waist, an unusual length for a woman of his people. An unheard of length for a Reflective. It was noteworthy she had kept hers long.
Perhaps it was a bid for femininity in a role that was exclusively male?
Jeb reluctantly moved his gaze to the other five in turn, searching for his new partner. Jeb adored babysitting. Actually, it was loathsome but necessary, or they'd have a troupe of Reflectives bouncing from one world to the next where they shouldn't land.
Jeb felt his lips twitch. He had been the same when he was twenty cycles. Ignorant... a hot head. A trait his former mentor had seen fit to beat him into understanding.
Now it was Jeb's turn to mentor a new recruit, his three year first partnering now at an end.
Ignorance was not tolerated in The Cause.
The interior lights of the coliseum switched on, spreading the solar-powered illumination to every corner. It washed the faces of the Reflective inductees in an eerie mockery of false illness, a sickly yellow cast coating their flesh.
Reflective Kennet stood in the far corner, exactly opposite of Jeb's position and gave a chin lift in greeting and received one in return. Jeb noticed Kennet wore his dress uniform. He was on duty. That meant his ass could be snatched to one of the other twelve sectors at any time.
Yet, he was here.
Jeb allowed his eyes to run over his compatriots dress uniform, noting the deep navy, black at a distance but a midnight blue when kissing close. The only striking thing about the ensemble was the Reflective crest.
The butterfly rode high against his left breast, standing vigil over the heart. An iridescent rendering had been executed with real gold and silver, microscopic jewels used in the multicolored threading. Only a small shift of movement was necessary for the glitter of their station to alert those who passed that they were Reflective.
The slaves of protection for Papilio.
Jeb's musing was cut short as the chime sounded, a clear ring that donged six times for the six candidates.
All would fight and be judged in various degrees of worthiness. The illegal betting had been deep and vicious.
Beth Jasper was underdog.
Humanity had come to see the female fall.
There were only two rules: no blades—no death.
Had he been a betting man, studying the graceful Jasper as she warmed up, he would have bet on her.
Jeb Merrick understood much could be accomplished without death as an end result. He was profoundly happy that it was not he that stood in that ring to beat a female into the mat. Jeb wasn't sure he could have done it.
He understood it for the weakness it was.
Jeb's eyes fell on the favored male in the class, Lance Ryan.
He could, Jeb knew.
Jeb took in the predatory eyes that were all for Jasper and tensed without being aware. It had seemed fine when he'd entertained attending the ritualistic Reflective ceremony. It was a bloodthirsty hold-over from centuries past. Yet, like many traditions that were no longer necessary, it had been kept—flourished.
Jeb unconsciously leaned forward as the first recruit came and bumped fists with the well-known Ryan.
For being a jack ass, Jeb thought.
No one truly liked Ryan, yet he had garnered the respect of many through brute force and jumping prowess.
Respect earned through fear instead of deeds, was not truly respect.
Ryan was ferocious in sparring and the martial arts, a keen jumper, who was rumored to jump through some reflections as small as a fist. But not while they were in motion.
That was a rare skill.
He had heard of only one Reflective who was so fine a jumper that they could jump as a drop of rain fell from the sky. Jeb shook his head in disbelief. Legend... yet, he wished he could have been there to witness such a thing.
The men raised their fists from the greeting then placed them over the plain insignia that rode the breastbones of their sparring tunics. The simple outline of the insect that had identified them as Reflectives was the same for all.
They stepped away from one another.
A huge gong sounded, making Jeb's teeth thrum and the two recruits burst into each other in a smack of flesh and bone.
He couldn't help but be riveted.
Ryan's beauty as a fighter was an awesome thing to behold, landing punch after punch into the side of the one he faced—all organ strikes.
The other man, Jude Calvin, Kennet's new partner, Jeb vaguely remembered, came in close and took Ryan's considerable strike advantage away.
Calvin was going to try and go to ground. He wrapped his substantial arms around Ryan's torso, swinging a man that weighed two hundred fifty pounds if he was an ounce, and pile drove him into the mat.
The impact of it to those so close to the spar was felt in a reverberating punch.
Ryan's response was to shoot his arm out and flat palm Calvin's nose.
A low boo from the crowd sounded, which Ryan ignored.
Blood burst from the offense, shooting like a geyser of bright red water as Ryan leaped off the mat, smearing the mess he'd made of his equal.
Jasper's head swiveled toward a female voice rising above the crowd's, “Shoot, Calvin... shoot!”
A small fist swung above her head for emphasis and the crowd hissed their displeasure at Jasper's coaching from the sidelines.
Calvin shot, taking those long legs of Ryan's out from underneath him as he sprung forward, his nose bleeding like a sieve.
Commander Rachett stood in the corner of the ring in typical stoic silence, his body tense like a snake before it strikes, as Ryan slapped the ground again. His body smacked the mat in a hard bounce, making an echoing slap that silenced the crowd.
Oohs and aahs of low-grade fear were heard all around Jeb.
This time, Ryan rolled Calvin over and pretzeled his arm into a position of unnaturalness. Shit, Jeb thought, he's got him in an arm bar. A classic move picked up from a jump to Sector Three, Earth.
A place he should not have visited yet, Jeb thought with unease. A class seven world was for partnered jumps only.
Calvin tapped out, hitting Ryan lightly on the leg that rode behind his own.
It was Beth Jasper that let Jeb know what would happen next, like a cat losing its balance she moved forward...
As Ryan snapped the arm he had locked.
Calvin roared in agony, holding his injured limb as Ryan's boot came high over his head to smash the face of one he'd already beaten.
Jeb stilled.
Surely Rachett would disallow this?
Jeb saw the brilliant flash of Beth move behind Ryan, like a shimmer of water on a sheet of glass.
She executed a spinning kick that knocked the fucker on his ass.
Beth bounced away in avoidance, her fists riding beside her jaw, fear swimming in her eyes.
Her body belied the windows to her soul... calm in its economical movements.
Rachett stepped away as medics pulled the moaning and shocky Calvin away.
He'd heal.
But that wasn't the fucking point, was it?
Ryan lacked integrity. A critical component of the militia that comprised the Reflective.
Ryan stood, his eyes
nailing Beth. She'd screwed the order with her timely intervention.
They cautiously circled each other.
Jeb knew Jasper had no friends within the trainees circle, however, she'd moved almost compulsively to help Calvin.
While every recruit had observed another be cut down unfairly, Jasper had acted.
And now she would pay.
Principle, this would not end well.
His guts churned. Jeb wasn't easily affected by fights and blood, but as they said on Sector Three: this was wrong on a hundred different levels.
Jasper backed up, neatly outside of Ryan's long reach, easily twice her own. She appeared to remember her training, a drumbeat that was part of every Reflective's internal clock.
It wasn't enough, as Ryan caught Jasper before she had a chance to block his assault. He nailed her gut in a sucker punch, then landed a subsequent fist into her jaw.
Beth was already moving evasively, thank Principle, or she'd have been out and at his mercy.
Ryan had none.
As it was, Jasper fell in a spinning backwards arc, landing with her palms splayed behind her to arrest her fall. Blood splattered the mat they fought on from the cut lip made by his grazing fist.
Ryan stalked toward her, hatred leaking from every pore. Their final match played out in a sick parody, unforgiving eyes watching Jasper from every corner of the mat.
Jeb heard Rachett's tense voice rumble from a distance, “Get the fuck up, Jasper.”
Jeb's felt his face tighten into a scowl at their commander's words. Though he'd been just as tough when he was a recruit under Rachett.
Jasper swung her head back and forth as though clearing it.
Blood from the blow she'd taken fell like scarlet rain beneath her position.
Ryan smiled, his hands curling into abusive fists of presumed victory.
He spoke so quietly for only her to hear, though Jeb leaned forward to try and catch his words, as did everyone.
The roar of the crowd made it impossible.
“This ends here, Jasper.”
A cruel smile overtook his face. “The Reflective doesn't have room for mongrel females.”
Jeb's eyes sharpened on her utter stillness.
Her form began to waver, shimmering on top of the bloody mat.
Jeb squinted at her, maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him.
The noise of the crowd- it was disorientating.
Ryan flicked the switchblade as smoothly as they'd been trained to do. Training blades were all ceramic.
Jasper wore the scars to attest to that.
But reflective blades could still be had on the black market for the right price.
It looked like Ryan had paid.
Jeb watched the shining metal, his innate ability instantly online around a reflection and it hummed with want. His eyes met Kennet's and all went to Rachett, wondering what he would do Ryan producing an illegal weapon.
Its mirrored surface shimmered in the low lights that bathed the interior of the coliseum.
Holy fuck.
Jeb began to push through the people. This was going to get ugly.
No, check that, gruesome.
Ryan planned to murder Beth Jasper, maybe he always had.
Jeb could let a inductee take licks, abuse and unfairness. But death by another Reflective would not happen on his watch.
Why for the love of the Principle had Rachett not interfered?
“Hey!” a man protested as Jeb pushed him aside.
Then he saw Jeb's uniform and silently moved aside, as did everyone.
It was like the Earth's fabled Red Sea parting; Reflectives had that effect.
Jeb grabbed the ropes that surrounded the perimeter, hesitating as Rachett bellowed too late, “No blades!”
His voice was on a note of high keening fear. Jeb swung his face to his Commander's.
He had never seen or heard fear from Rachett. When all inequalities of the fight had been dismissed: Ryan's size against Beth, her gender, he finally took notice when an illegal weapon was produced.
It was beyond bizarre. None of it made sense from where Jeb stood.
Jeb saw the white's of Jasper's eyes, the inky tail of her braid wet with her blood as the blade swung so close to her face, the breeze lifted wisps of her hair. She crab walked backward in an awkward scuttle of escape.
Ryan braced himself as his commander screamed for Ryan to stop and he ignored the directive.
Rachett stepped forward too late to stop his best inductee from gutting another recruit as a justified elimination tactic and grabbed Ryan's arm.
But the knife was gone.
It sung through the air in an expert trajectory toward Beth.
The blade spun in the combustable silence of the coliseum, the crowd's collective breath held.
Jeb strode toward Jasper but she seemed unaware as her dark eyes tracked it seamlessly.
His eye's hadn't lied. One moment she was solid, the next she became opaque.
Then was gone.
Jeb had seen many jumps, but never a female's, and never into something of that size. The crowd watched as what appeared to be a glittering rope of iridescent white, like a pearl with a rainbow wash, slammed into the blade.
Jasper's body appeared to disappear, then reappear in the thin reflective ribbon of the jump as it collided with the metal.
As she meant to.
The knife landed in the mat, its tip sunk deeply into the soft surface with a twang.
The silence was deafening.
Beth Jasper had vanished. Only her blood remained as grim testimony to her presence moments before.
Rachett fisted Ryan's tunic in his hand, jerking him close.
“You dumb fuck,” he began with the quiet menace he was known for. “All you had to accomplish was keeping weapons out of it. You could have pummeled her into the mat in a fair spar.”
His eyes pegged Ryan's in blatant disgust.
“Now,” his flat eyes locked with Ryan's, “She's jumped. She won because you couldn't contain your shit.”
Jeb's eyes connected with Kennet across the ring from where he stood and he was just as stunned. Jeb glanced at the embedded blade in the mat and shook his head in disbelief.
“There's no way!” one of the Reflective recruits said quietly, “that's a six inch surface. She's a half-breed... nobody can jump that,” he scoffed.
But somebody had: Beth Jasper, female, half-breed... had just shown her hand.
It looked like aces high.
The crowd began to disperse, eyes roving for the missing Reflective female who had just made history.
There would be no jeering in her future, only jealousy.
Rachett reiterated what they'd always known, though a few had chosen to ignore.
“The Principle chooses who they will. There is no logic. That's why when we have an opponent, we do not underestimate their skills. Let this be a lesson to all who fight,” Rachett expounded, spinning in a slow, deliberate circle, his eyes falling on the inductee recruits, the Reflectives and the lesser audience who remained.
“Be ready,” he finished, landing a leaden glance on Ryan a final time before he stalked out of the coliseum. Guards moved up beside Ryan. His infraction would land him on Sector One for a certainty. A sector no Reflective wished to jump.
This was an epic clusterfuck if there had ever been one.
Jeb groaned.
The recruits filtered out, Ryan's defiant gaze challenging all that dared look his way as he was cuffed with non-reflective cuffs. One of the guards jerked the blade out of the map, giving Ryan narrow eyes.
Jeb's gaze squared off with Ryan until he dropped his gaze and was escorted out.
Jeb stared after his retreating back. He ran a frustrated hand through his cropped hair.
He knew what this disturbing mess meant for him.
Jeb would be tasked to locate Jasper. His primary task was retrieval. He was meant to be reassigned momentarily.
&nbs
p; However, it seemed like it would be longer than a moment.
The crowd thinned and Jeb stared at the drying blood on the mat, the comments of those around him the same.
Awe mixed with fear. It was a bad combination. It could be a recipe for many things. The main one would be when Beth returned, what reception would she find waiting?
He knew that the people would forget the transgressions made against her by Ryan.
All they would remember was her jump.
He'd never forget it.
Jeb lifted his head at a small noise. Daphne, a beautiful Reflective, came toward him, her hips swaying so he would notice.
He did.
But even as her lush body moved toward him like water finding a crack in a stone, his mind was on another female, the newest member of The Cause.
Beth Jasper, a jumper without compare.
His new partner.
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A TERRIBLE
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Marata Eros
A TERRIBLE LOVE- excerpt
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You're Mine:
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Blood Reign (#4): Alpha Warriors of the Blood (The Blood Series) Page 21