by C. T. Aaron
Oscar nods, fast. I don’t know if Spark is serious about killing him, but as long as Oscar believes him, that’s fine with me.
“Good. Walk backwards with me. There ya go. Step up. Walk back. Step up . . .”
I scan the area. No one’s paying any attention. The arena is too big and everyone is sitting closer to the field than we were.
Spark walks backward with Oscar in his grip until we’re outside of the arena seating and in the vast concourse.
I step close to Oscar. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know!” Oscar’s voice is raspy.
“I don’t believe you! Spark?”
He meets my eyes. “What.”
I roll mine. “Do something cool! Hurt him!”
“Uh, no. Just ask your questions, kid.”
So much for a nice cinematic torture scene. “She’s here somewhere. Tell me where.”
“I don’t know what order they’re going in.”
“What do you mean, order?”
Spark says, “There’ll be more than one. It’s like a title fight, they always have multiple bouts before the main event. But I don’t think they publish a fight card, do they, hotshot?”
Oscar nods and grunts. He looks panicked. Good. “They’ll keep her somewhere out of the way until the fights start.”
I grab a handful of Oscar’s black T-shirt. “Where?”
“I don’t know! Most people come here on their own to fight, she’s different.”
My lip curls like I’m sniffing dog shit. And hey—I guess I am. “Yeah, because you kidnapped her. Which is a felony, by the way, you asshole. So when we get out of here, your ass is screwed.”
Despite being almost choked to death, Oscar grins at me. “You don’t get it. My dad would never let that happen.”
“I don’t know about that. Maybe he will when he realizes how badly you just screwed up.” I bark a little laugh. “That’s why you came down to talk to me, isn’t it? Because you thought you could. No other reason. You just wanted to talk shit. Except now you’re in a chokehold. Oops. How do you think Daddy’s going to respond to that?”
Something dark flits through Oscar’s eyes.
Bingo. His expression changes instantly.
“Look, okay, yeah, I knew you were here!” he says quickly. Like he’s trying to bargain with me. “I knew you were coming, and I didn’t hurt you!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The Fam with the mace. He’s mine. I was keeping an eye out, sending him out there to tell me if he saw anything unusual. I knew you’d come after her—I knew someone would come after her. She’s Mae.”
He says this like he’s spitting. In that moment, there is nothing left of the smooth talking hotshot I met at the coffee shop. Now he just looks like any old pissy high school boy who got turned down by a girl.
“So you sent your Fam out there to watch for anyone who didn’t fit in and kill them.”
“If I wanted to kill you, I could have.”
“Golly, thanks. You almost did kill my wolf! So, uh, same thing.”
“Your wolf was eating my Fam’s leg! I defended myself. He defended himself. I was just trying to scare you away.”
I step even nearer. He smells like body spray. Of course.
“You didn’t think this through very well, pretty boy. You tried to scare me off from saving Mae’s life. She’s not going to survive that fight, and you know it. You know her. There’s no way she comes out on top in there.”
Oscar opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He knows—now—that I’m right. But I can tell that he also realizes that, no, he really didn’t think this through at all.
“I-I thought Aison could handle it.”
“Aison maybe could, jackass. Mae can’t.”
I shake my head, which reminds me of my headache. “Why did you do this? Why would you do this to Maebry? Did she cheat on you, was she some kind of bitch? Because I don’t buy that. So why?”
His expression shifts again, like maybe Spark is increasing the pressure on his neck, only Spark hasn’t moved.
“We were gonna stay together when she moved. I was gonna get a car and come see her all the time. Then she met someone.”
“That’s why you’d risk her life?”
Oscar turns his eyes away. There’s something else going on. It’s not just about Maebry and me. But what? I can’t tell.
Spark, on the other hand, even though he can’t see Oscar’s expression, gives me an answer. “It’s his dad. He knows his dad doesn’t care about him. So he wanted to get his attention.” To Oscar he adds, “How close am I, champ?”
Oscar literally shuts his mouth. But he doesn’t have to say anything anymore.
“What should we do with him?” I say.
“He can go night-night.” Into Oscar’s ear, Spark quietly says, “You’ll live, but don’t fight me. If your Fam shows up, I’ll break your neck. Just relax.”
Spark flexes his arms. Oscar, naturally, does squirm and try to fight, but he’s got nothing against Spark’s strength and apparent martial arts skill. Less than thirty seconds later, Oscar is out cold, hanging limp in Spark’s arms.
Spark nods at me. “Grab his legs. Let’s try that door in the wall over there.”
I pick up Oscar’s feet, and we awkwardly shuffle to the windowless door. “Where did you learn that karate stuff?”
“It’s jiu jitsu. There was a white boy at school a long time ago I had to learn how to put down without hurting him. Because, you know, optics.”
I don’t know what he means, exactly, but I can guess.
“How’d you know that stuff about his dad?”
“Because I know the type of dad Alexander is. I know how children respond to it, ultimately. Because I’ve done it, too.”
I drop Oscar’s feet and try the door. It opens into what must be a utility closet back on Earth.
“So what did you do to get your dad’s attention?”
Spark whirls on me so fast I squeak and step backward. He’s got a finger pointed right at my face.
“Shut up. Don’t ever ask me that again. Got it?”
I nod, fast, hurting my skull, and lick my lips. I hurry to drag Oscar into the utility closet and shut the door, heart racing. “How long will he be out?”
“Can’t say. A few minutes most likely. Let’s get back in there, look for your girl.”
We jog back the way we’d come and go about halfway down the stairs. I look all around, but I see nothing new. Aison is still in his cage and has not moved. He might as well be a real stone gargoyle.
I whine, “Where the hell is she? I should have punched him for more information.”
“Wouldn’t’ve worked. The kid’s a wuss, he would’ve already told us. Let’s move down more. She’ll probably be on the floor near her Fam. Just, try not to look like you’re looking, all right?”
I follow Spark. With so few people, there are literally tens of thousands of seats available. I want to rush down to the front row and start screaming her name, but Spark pulls me aside at about the twentieth row from the bottom.
“Closer,” I urge.
He shakes his head a bit, just enough for me to see. “No one else is. See? It’s probably too dangerous. We’re closer to the edge than anyone else as it is.”
He’s right again. I slip into a row beside him and sit, then leap back up as several guys in jeans and t-shirts approach Aison’s cage. I very nearly scream Look! but Spark’s faster, yanking on the back hem of my shirt.
I sit back down, chewing on my lip as Spark scowls.
“Okay, see, now they know we’re here,” he says under his breath. “You have got to calm the eff down or you’re going to blow this whole thing. All right?”
I grind my teeth and nod. The men open a huge gate in the cage, and I wait expectantly for Aison to either tear through them, or for them to use some kind of tasers on him to keep him calm.
Neither of those things happen. They just open
the door and walk away like it’s no big deal.
“I don’t get it,” I say. “Why isn’t he moving? Why—”
Then I see her.
THIRTEEN
“Maebry!”
I manage to whisper her name instead of scream it. Spark and I made the wrong call in terms of where we moved: rather than being on the floor of the arena, she is standing on the second level behind a short wall on our right. She’s practically right above Aison. While she’s very far away, at least a hundred yards or more, I swear I can see the expression on her face.
She is exhausted and terrified. My heart pumps faster, prepping me to make a mad dash to the second level and get her the hell out of here.
Except she’s not alone, of course. There are two guys on either side of her, not dressed in suits, but definitely keeping her under guard.
Maebry rests her hands on the concrete barricade wall, looking down onto the arena floor below. Aison, still in his cage, is beneath and forward of her, and it hits me why she’s up there instead of near Aison.
It’s like she’s standing over a game board. It will be easier for her to see everything from up there.
Easier to try and fight.
“It’s going to start,” Spark whispers. “And I think she’s first. Not the title fight. They’re not expecting her to . . .”
He bites the rest of the sentence off.
That’s enough to make me turn away from Mae and look at the arena floor. Aison hasn’t moved, but from the left side of the floor the giant Fam with two faces comes lumbering out, dragging his flail behind him.
“That’s Oscar’s Fam! The one that attacked me and Ezzy. He’s really strong . . .”
“That means the kid’s up and conscious already. Dammit, someone’s gonna find us out here any second. That’s her up there? Second floor?”
“Yes! What do we do, what do we do?”
“I don’t . . .” Spark says, but lets it hang. His eyes dart between the giant, Aison, and Maebry. But like me, he doesn’t have the first clue how to get to her and get out of the arena in one piece.
But I do know sitting quietly in a fold-down chair and watching the fight isn’t going to get it done.
I stand. “Screw this. Get your big-ass spider ready.”
Spark’s eyes fly open wide. “What’re you—”
“I don’t know, but I’m not sitting here! Just be ready to jump in, okay?”
Spark’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard and tries to speak.
“Can I count on you?” I say, fast. “Yes or no, here and now, I need to know, man.”
Spark scowls, glances at the giant, then at Aison, up at Mae, then back to me.
“Yeah,” he grunts.
I grab the sleeve of his leather coat and shake it. “Thank you.”
Then I’m off, taking the concrete stairs two at a time with my eyes trained to one side to keep Maebry in my sights. If she sees me, or recognizes me, she gives no indication; her hands are still lying limp on the wall, her gaze focused on Aison in his open cage.
A thump makes me pause and turn back to the arena floor. The giant’s flail is stuck into the dirt, just like when it barely missed me not too long ago. The memory of that moment reminds me that my head still hurts. The giant’s two faces scream in anticipation; it pulls the flail from the ground and whirls it overhead. I don’t see where Oscar is, but he must be somewhere he can see the arena floor. I wonder why a group of armed men aren’t surrounding me, tipped off by Oscar . . . then realize, no. Spark might be wrong: Oscar doesn’t need to go running to Daddy and tell him about me and Spark.
Hell, he doesn’t want to do that. Now it’s personal. Now he wants to show his dad how tough he is by beating an inexperienced girl—his ex-girlfriend—and her tough-looking Fam.
But not just beating, of course. And Oscar knows that.
Aison doesn’t move. Maebry doesn’t move. One of the men standing beside her nudges her with his elbow. Mae glances at where he made contact and, I think, sighs.
Fight! I think suddenly. Dammit Mae, give them what they want, kick these suckers square in the ass!
The giant shifts back and forth on its huge feet, spinning the flail to a blur. Men in the stands get to their feet, cheering. Mae takes a deep breath and looks at her Familiar again before bending her head a bit as if in prayer.
Aison takes a shambling step out from his cage, like he’s sick. It must be because Mae has never taken control of him, just like I’d never taken control of Ezzy until today. But I hadn’t been controlling his every move. Maebry will have to do exactly that if she’s going to survive.
Survive.
The word kicks me into gear. This is the real thing.
Trying to ignore how my head swims with the exertion, I run up the stairs to the main floor, then veer left, looking for another staircase to get to the second level. There’s no one up here at the moment; everyone’s in the seats, waiting for the battle to begin.
Where are the goddamn stairs?
There. I see a flight leading up and run full tilt toward them. I try to go two at a time, but there’s no way; four steps up I have to stop so I don’t fall over. Dammit! I take a breath, get my bearings, and start climbing again.
I reach the second floor and turn right, and there she is. Just like that. Mae is still standing at the wall, while the two guards flank her. They’re not well-trained, at least not that I can tell. Unlike the guys who were escorting Alexander, these two look more like bouncers than specially trained agents.
Of course, my chances of taking out two bouncers isn’t any better.
Now what now what now what I chant in my head as I back up a bit onto the staircase so I can still see them but am mostly concealed behind a wall. I’m so close! Maebry isn’t more than forty or fifty feet away. If I could just knock those two assholes over the side and run like hell . . .
“All right, boys,” Alexander calls through his bullhorn. I can’t see him from my position on the stairs, but his voice fills the arena. “Here we go with our first big match of the day!”
Cheers from the spectators. I see Maebry’s hands clench into fists.
Then she speaks.
“I can’t, I can’t do it, I don’t know how!”
I can only see half the field from where I am, and at the far edge, the giant two-faced Fam starts lumbering out to mid-field. I’ll lose sight of him in just a few more steps.
One of the guards says to Maebry, “That’s fine, let your dude die! I got a thousand bucks on Cepheus anyway.”
They both laugh.
I can’t stop what I do next. I know I shouldn’t, I don’t even want to, but their sickening laughter drives my rage into overdrive.
Ezzy pops beside me. His head hangs and his tongue lolls, but he’s on his feet.
“Can you walk?” I am unable to bring myself to look at his damaged legs.
He chuffs softly and takes a tentative step.
“Please, Ezzy,” I say, eyes fixed on my girlfriend. “Please get those two assholes away from her.”
My giant dog leaps without another moment’s hesitation. I step onto the floor behind him and watch as he runs as best he can toward the men.
The first one hears his nails clacking on the concrete and turns. “What the fu—!”
That’s all he can get out before Ezzy rams his big skull into the man, sending him flying several yards away and skidding along the concrete.
Maebry whirls, her face strained as she tries to process what’s going on. The second guy steps backward, eyes wide as Ezzy lurches at him.
The guard screams as Ezzy bites into him from the side. The guy squeals as Ezzy gives him two good shakes, right and left, before throwing him down to join his buddy.
“Ezzy?” Mae says in shock, then spots me. “Briar!”
I race toward her and she runs to me. We crash into each other and hug hard, just as shouts from the arena meet my ears.
We share the world’s fastest kiss ev
en as I drag her back to the wall. “Pop Aison out of here! We’ve got to go!”
As I’m turning to run, I happen to face the field . . . and see that things might not be quite so easy.
Oscar’s giant Fam with the flail—named Cepheus, apparently—stands in the middle of the field. Aison lies on his back at Cepheus’s feet, wings spread out from his body but oddly crumpled somehow.
Aison is motionless.
Dead?
Maebry and I turn to each other. Her eyes reflect my own terror back at me.
“B?” she says. “Is he . . . he’s . . . ?”
“No, no, no!” I grab hold of her. “No, Mae, don’t leave me!”
A deep growl pulls me away from her face for the barest moment. The growl is from Ezzy, who is backing away from the short concrete wall. His legs and hips are clearly hurting him; he can barely keep his rear paws on the ground, his back hunched.
I don’t even have time to say his name. My wolf breaks into a run, straight for the wall, lips back and teeth bared . . . and sails over it, down to the seating below.
I did not tell him to do it.
“Ezzy!”
Mae and I lunge, as if there’s some way we can stop him once he’s airborne. But gravity is gravity even on mirror world, and Ezzy’s jump takes him close to the section of seats nearest to the field, not far from where Aison’s cage stands empty.
My Familiar lets out a piteous yelp as he crashes into the seats. The noise is terrible, plastic crunching under his body and flying away from him as his landing makes a crater in the seating. He tries once to get up, but his rear legs collapse under him. He tries again, and this time manages to stand.
“Is that you?” Mae says, clutching my arm.
“No. It’s him.” I pause and look into her eyes. “You’re still here.”
Mae nods quickly.
“Then Aison’s okay!” I turn her toward the field. “You have to get him up, Mae, make him fight!”
Maebry narrows her eyes, concentrating on her unmoving Familiar below. Ezzy clears the seating area and bounds gracelessly to the dirt field. In the stands, men are starting to catch on that this isn’t part of the show. They’re not panicking, but most are on their feet, eyes on Ezzy. A few are looking up at us.