Sin & Surrender (Demigods of San Francisco Book 6)

by K. F. Breene

  One of our opponents stalked to the center, an enormous man with muscles for days, blond hair, and a cleft in his chin. His biceps were so big that I wondered how he scratched his face.

  He bent at the waist and flexed, like a bodybuilder. I couldn’t help cocking my head at him in confusion. Was this a battle, or a muscle show?

  “Someone from Hercules’s line, I bet,” Bria said, pulling out her knives. “They can pose a problem in hand-to-hand combat, but they’re not good for much else. That fool doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into. What a gas.”

  Mia disappeared, and I heard tables and chairs scraping against the balcony, people leaning forward in surprise.

  “I got this.” Red ripped out a knife, but before she could start forward, Mia reappeared beside the big man. She threw her arms around him, barely able to wrap those dead limbs around his big waist. He had little time to startle before they disappeared again.

  “He’s got an Apporter, too?” I heard one of the surprised leaders exclaim.

  I could barely hear Magnus’s answering drawl. “The Apporter is a spirit—a powerful one—and the Spirit Walker has it under her control.”

  One flowering vine rose into the air, then another, reaching out toward Thane, who was leaning against the wall. He watched their progress but didn’t move.

  Mia reappeared fifty feet above the ground. She opened her arms and disappeared again.

  “Ohhh shiiiit!” The muscular man’s arms windmilled. His curse turned into a high-pitched scream.

  Jerry sent a rock flying through the air. It smashed into the woman hiding behind the solitary bush. She cried out, slammed backward. The rock rose and smashed into her a second time. The vines dropped from the air, one of them having nearly reached a very unconcerned Thane.

  Darts sprayed through the air as the Hercules man slapped against the ground. His head bounced and his body went limp.

  Mia popped back next to me, sagging. That had taken a lot of her energy.

  “You better not have just killed that man, Mia,” I said through gritted teeth, knowing those in the balcony would think I’d instigated the attack, since Magnus had claimed I was in control.

  “He’ll heal. Another ten feet and he would’ve died,” she replied. Hopefully she was correct.

  Donovan knocked the darts to the side with his telekinetic magic, now standing in front of Daisy. Mordecai was pressed against her leg, not allowing her to shove him off.

  Dylan lifted his hands, and for a moment, everyone visibly quailed. Lightning crackled, slicing from the parallel walls, catching two of our opponents in the crossfire.

  “A Demigod is blocking me from gathering the clouds,” he yelled, making lightning zip across the ground, something he’d said was incredibly difficult. He was showing off. It fizzed across the pool of water and reached a man who stood with his hands out and fingers splayed, like a sorcerer. Electricity sizzled up his leg. He screamed, convulsing, as a second wave of darts sprayed from his hands. I didn’t know what kind of magic that was, but he wasn’t going to use it any more today.

  Donovan already had the first round of darts pushed out of the way, and he quickly went to work on the second. Boman sliced light across a guy in the far back who hadn’t shown us any magic yet, burning a hole in his chest. The man screamed and beat at himself before Boman hit him with another.

  A bright flare lit up the sky, so intense I had to rip my eyes away. It beat down on us, turning the world white, blocking my vision. When the light finally faded, I was confused to see a desert oasis under my feet, as if Mia had transported me somewhere else.

  This wasn’t my first hallucinogenic rodeo.

  I pulled power from the Line and grabbed up all the opponents’ souls.

  “Lexi, we need to see,” Boman yelled.

  Power pumped through me. Unseen eyes turned my way, spirit watchers hanging out behind the veil, just outside of my field of vision. I ignored them. This had happened a lot since the showdown at Lydia’s place. I’d always assumed it was my father, but since he was currently staring down at me from his table on the balcony, probably not.

  I took a deep breath, tempered my power so I didn’t kill anyone, and softly yanked. Souls clattered against casings, and in a one-two punch, I sliced the outsides of said casings. These people were getting it in two different ways—both horrible, both painful, neither life-threatening.

  Shouts and screams filled the arena, and the illusion of the desert cut off immediately. The opponents fell to their knees or sides, clutching their middles and rolling. Not one of them still stood. No one even looked our way.

  Havoc roared, and I knew the effect would be flapping those souls in their casings. Chaos bounded forward to use his claws.

  “No!” I shouted as another wave of shouts and screams filled the arena. The guy with the darts screamed so loud and long that his voice turned hoarse. He kicked at an invisible enemy. “Havoc, Chaos, desist!”

  I could barely hear myself over the man’s screaming, though the cats obliged, looking back at me. Still the man screamed, now clawing at his chest, his face.

  “Knock him out—he’s consumed with fear,” I shouted.

  Red was there in a moment, happy to oblige. Bria jogged forward, knives out, still on the offensive. The guys, too, were readying for another attack.

  “Stop! What are you doing?” I shouted. “They’re down. It’s over.”

  Bria paused over a man curled in on himself, ready to poke holes in him. One of the crazy zombies ran by, screaming for no reason. A man sobbed in the corner. A woman rolled back and forth, whimpering, clutching her chest. Not one of the opponents was trying to get up.

  “We need to take the rest of them out to prove our victory. That’s how it’s done,” Bria said.

  Over the din I could hear seats groaning from the balcony as people moved around. They’d come for blood and wouldn’t be satisfied until we gave it to them.

  They could suck it.

  In a real battle, when the enemy was subdued, that was it. You walked away. You didn’t continue to fight for the fun of it. You didn’t have an audience. Hell, you were just happy to be alive.

  I elevated my voice so everyone would be sure to hear. “Leave them. They don’t need to be bloody to prove who won. They’ve had enough.”

  “Finish them!” someone yelled from the balcony.

  I turned and faced the bloodthirsty Demigods and leaders. “No,” I said in a clear voice. “The battle is decided. It’s finished.”

  “We say when this battle is done, not them. We rule,” another shouted from the back somewhere. “Make them finish it.”

  “The battle is over.” Kieran stood, his eyes on me for a moment before they swept the balcony. He was late to the party, but he was finally showing up to do the right thing. “Alexis enacted a punishment far worse than physical wounds. It will stay on their minds long after they have healed. This battle is done. If she continues, those people down there will lose their minds. I’ve seen it happen. They would have to be killed. She is not showing them mercy—she is protecting their lives, as the rules clearly state she should.”

  I was totally showing them mercy, which he knew, but if this was the way he needed to spin it to get the leaders in line, more power to him, especially since he wasn’t wrong. Dart Fingers might already be too far gone.

  Silence greeted Kieran, the people in the back not pressing their thirst for blood.

  Zander’s voice rang out. “Agreed. The battle is done.”

  “Agreed,” his wife said quickly.

  “Agreed,” said the very regal lady we’d seen last night, sitting on Zander’s other side.

  “Agreed,” Magnus added.

  Others took up the call, everyone stating the word plainly or mumbling it. The door opened and the clipboard-carrying dickface reemerged.

  Thane pushed away from the wall. “I say we get all the people in the halls to move out to the garden so I can play, too.”

&nb
sp; “Lexi, whoa, whoa, whoa…” Bria pointed at the zombies still running around the place like wild men. “Put those back.”

  I marched them back to keep Jerry from having to help load up the bodies. I didn’t want him throwing up in front of all those Demigods.

  “Was she controlling all of those while doing her magic?” someone asked from the balcony.

  I didn’t respond, letting them think that I did. It made me look cooler, probably.

  “Oh my stars, look at all those Demigods,” Frank said, marshaled back to the cart with everyone else. “I would like to mention that I detest wearing one of these skin suits, Alexis, and I am not the fighting type, but wow is it impressive to see all those Demigods. Look at them, all prim and proper and dressed nice. You should take a lesson, girlie, they—”

  I ripped him out of the body and flung him back toward home. My nerves were already frayed—I didn’t need him adding to the irritation. I got the rest of the bodies packed away and sent the rest of the spirits back, getting nods from Chad and John, a tired wave from Mia, and a demand from Jack to let him stay. He didn’t care about the danger, but I did. Not gonna happen.

  Tired, I headed toward the others, sparing a glance for Kieran as I left. He was sitting again, staring down at me intently. A waiter interrupted our view, and I noticed Aaron and Lydia were also looking at me from opposite sides of the second row. Both of them stared down at me with mingled hatred and desire—they wanted me for their arsenal now more than ever.

  I shivered, knowing in my bones that one or both of them had something nasty planned for me. Would I meet their teams in the halls? Or would I meet them in person when I didn’t have the protection of a Demigod at my back?

  10

  Alexis

  “Well, that went about as expected.” Bria pulled the bodies along behind her as we trudged toward the halls, the treacherous labyrinth at the outskirts of the large building. The middle of the building, I was finding, was reserved for the Demigods and the staff they brought along for protection, their second-string people in many cases, with only a few of their top tier. Demigod-on-Demigod crime was very rare at a Summit. The more experienced staff did what we were doing now—looking for a fight.

  “We were chosen specifically to fight in front of the Demigods,” Dylan said, his eyes constantly scanning. “That’s a big honor in most situations.” He paused, giving me a side-eye. “Most people realize the Demigods want to see blood. They look more favorably on those who give them a grueling, bloody fight.”

  Donovan laughed. “Lexi’s not the type to fall in line, brother.”

  “I need to grab a few rocks before we get where we’re going, by the way,” Jerry said. “What are we doing with these kids? Can we drop them off? I don’t like the idea of the princess being with us without superior healing. She shouldn’t have been in that battle just now.”

  “You’re big, giant. If you keep using that nickname, soon we’ll find out how hard you fall,” Daisy ground out.

  Jerry’s wide grin made me smile with him. He might not partake in the razzing with the guys all that often, but he loved to push Daisy’s buttons. He probably wanted to see what she’d eventually do in retaliation. I wondered myself.

  “That battle was light,” Henry said. “I didn’t have to do anything. I wonder why they didn’t put us with someone of higher caliber.”

  “They don’t have any idea what we can do,” Boman responded. “They probably thought we’d be evenly matched. It’s like Dylan said: the Demigods prefer longer, bloodier battles.”

  “Ours was beyond quick,” Bria said. “I didn’t get to do anything either. The Soul Stealer stole my shit.”

  “The battles will get harder. All the more reason for the kids to stay out of it,” Jerry said.

  Mordecai growled softly.

  “Yes, Fido, we know you want to fight.” Daisy patted his head and his ears flattened back. He was not happy with the treatment.

  Donovan’s smile at their antics was short-lived. “The kids need to come. Daisy has to prove she can exist in a magical environment—the summit’s words, not Kieran’s. I don’t entirely disagree. They technically can’t attack her, since she’s under eighteen, but she’s expected to take part.”

  I nodded, knowing all that. I’d hoped the kids could sit out the more organized fights, but that had effectively been cleared up for me. This was a sink-or-swim situation.

  “I can handle myself.” Daisy patted her breasts, and I knew there was a knife hidden in her bra.

  “It’s the healing issue that is the sticky wicket.” Donovan frowned, glancing down another hallway. A couple of people in office attire stood chatting, computer bags slung over their arms. We had a ways to go before we reached the battle area, clearly. I hadn’t even known part of the area was used for clerical work.

  “A blood oath can be applied to a non-magical, can’t it?” Dylan asked.

  “I will not be taking a blood oath,” Daisy said.

  “It can, yes. But any work she’ll do in the magical world will have to be as an independent contractor.” Zorn’s arms flared with muscle. “She will never fit into our world. Nor will she ever fit into her own. Just like Lexi, she’ll always be a misfit. Unlike Lexi, though, she’ll need to stick to the shadows, to the night, like a black widow.”

  “Or a bat.” Thane gave her a small shove.

  “What about a raccoon? Or a skunk?” Boman grinned. “Her breath some mornings…”

  “A varmint, definitely. Some kind of varmint,” Henry said, as though considering it carefully.

  The only one who didn’t crack a smile was Zorn, whose face was as serious and resolute as always. Daisy currently matched him.

  “Let’s veer right for Jerry to grab some rocks, and then it’s go time,” Henry said, his humor falling away.

  “I have an awesome idea.” The ledge of Bria’s cart scraped against the corner when we turned. “Let’s put rocks in a cadaver or two, and Jerry can throw bodies at people.”

  Jerry afforded her a look of death as we walked.

  “Think about it. That would really confuse everyone,” Bria prodded. “Limbs whipping around, heads wobbling, flying by the middle…”

  “Something is terribly wrong with you,” Jerry told her in a gruff voice. I had a feeling he was trying to control his stomach. “Terribly wrong.”

  “Yeah.” She grinned.

  Once we’d gathered rocks from the garden—judging by the divots already there, we weren’t the only ones to have done so—we found our way to a hallway like any other. This time, though, Henry stopped, looking down at his phone. “We’re here. Apparently.”

  We all looked around, the way clear for fifty feet in each direction before corners or dead ends closed off the view. No blood splattered the walls. No burn marks or anything out of place.

  “Has it started yet?” I asked, feeling a solid weight settle on me. It wasn’t from the situation, it was from those damn watchers in spirit. When I turned to look, they were just smears of black on the murky ultraviolet plane of the Line. This time, though, their gaze felt heavier—not oppressive but focused. I hadn’t felt it this strongly since our showdown at Lydia’s place.

  If my father wasn’t watching me, who was? Aaron and Lydia had been present at the courtyard fight too.

  “We’re at the very outskirts.” Henry put away his phone. “And we’re dealing with the best of the best. Keep your wits about you; things are going to get hairy.”

  All humor gone, we walked slowly down the hall. The doors were closed, but I’d be able to feel anyone in the rooms we approached. The stagnant air stifled the noise of our advancement, except for the soft squeal of one of the wheels on Bria’s cart and the muted thuds of Jerry’s rocks rolling along on the thin carpet.

  “Are you sure we’re in the right spot?” I whispered.

  “Yes and no.” Henry didn’t take out his phone again. “We’re in the right place per the phone app, but I have no idea where people
generally fight. Amber was the encyclopedia on all that.”

  “Something you might’ve mentioned before I sent her away.”

  “I thought you wanted to access your mother’s magic.”

  “I don’t know how to access my mother’s magic,” I hissed. “Mostly. I think it happens sometimes by accident, but I never actually try.”

  “I think our best approach is to embrace the unpredictability of the situation,” Daisy said. “These magical types are all so buttoned up. They might think they are wild and crazy, but their world is governed by a very slowly changing set of rules with a tightly defined gray area. If it’s a public fight, there should be blood, check. Less experienced fighters stick to the garden, please, out of sight.” She stuck up her nose, mimicking what she clearly thought of the Demigods in this place. “The most experienced can have the hallways, which we can pretend is a dangerous maze with lots of hiding places. Bonus—it affords a fantastic ability for observation.”

  “There is no recording in the battlegrounds,” Henry said.

  Daisy huffed and Zorn shook his head.

  “You were sharper when you were thinking for yourself,” Zorn said. “Amber doesn’t know everything. We’ve passed two cameras so far.”

  Henry looked upward. “What? We weren’t told there would be surveillance.”

  “It’s better if people don’t know they are being watched,” Daisy said.

  Henry dug out his phone, probably to text Amber. They’d want to try to hack into the system. Something told me it would be much harder here than it had been at Demigod Lydia’s mansion.

  “Battling Flora on an unknown mountain in the middle of nowhere was ten times more dangerous than this.” Daisy shook her head exasperatedly. “That garden would be a much better place for the more experienced fighters. The environment is another unknown, and if manipulated correctly, it could be as deadly as the enemy. You could hide in the branches or in a hole, or lay a tripwire in the bushes. That is a real test. This is just a well-regulated training exercise. No one is battering down walls here, I bet. It’s lame.”