Taming The Ringmaster

by Erin O'Kane

  My words obviously disturb him, as a strange expression crosses over his face. Pushing away from the cage, he snorts and shakes his head. “You don’t even know me.”

  His comment makes me smile as he turns his back. “I don’t need to know the details. I know enough.”

  I don’t know how long we wait in the cells until the fight. Without the morning meal to break up the time, it’s difficult to tell how many hours have passed, not to mention my nerves are getting the better of me. I try to think about it like it’s just another show and start going through my warmups in the small space. Eventually, Trent and the other guards come in and start unlocking cells, leading the others into a line, and bringing them out into the arena one by one.

  Looking around me in shock, I realise that it’s just me and Xavier left in the room. Why have we been left until last? Is Xavier going to be my opponent? My stomach drops. Can I fight him?

  Feeling my gaze, he turns and looks at me. A coldness I’ve not seen before settles into him and I shudder. Yes, if I had to, I would fight him, but I don’t hold out any hope of winning against him.

  “They won’t put us together to fight. Not today.” I barely recognise his voice as he turns away from me.

  “How do you know?” I croak, and I curse myself for sounding so weak. Balling my fists, I stand up straighter, determined to go out there looking strong.

  “I’m one of their best fighters. You’re a new, shiny toy for them, they won’t kill you off just yet.” The matter-of-fact way he says it makes me go cold, like I’m just a thing, an object for them to do with as they please. I’ve been treated like this my whole life, but it stokes the fury that has been steadily burning within me.

  “I’m not a toy. I’m Rhea the fucking Immortal, and I will show them what happens when you mess with the freaks.”

  Something that looks like respect flashes in his eyes, but it soon disappears as Trent stalks towards my cage.

  “It’s time for the big show,” he says mockingly, as he unlocks the door to my cell, his arm grabbing mine roughly as he escorts me to the large doors that lead out to the arena. I wonder for a second why they have left Xavier behind, but I quickly forget as I walk out of the shadows and into the ring surrounding the pit in the center of the arena. I can hear my name being called out by my guys and I try to spot them in the cages lining the wall, but my eyes are still trying to adjust to the light.

  A loud beat that I can feel more than hear sounds through the arena, pulsing in time with the frantic thudding of my heart, and I realise it’s the pounding of people’s feet.

  “Gentlemen! We have a treat for you today! There will be several fights, and our first ever female freak will be fighting today, Rhea the Immortal,” someone announces loudly, and there’s a raucous cheer that goes up at his words, along with some laughs as he broadcasts my name. Someone releases the shackles around my wrists, and I feel my powers return as a shove on the small of my back has me staggering forwards, but I manage to catch myself so I don’t go sprawling down the steps into the pit. That fire starts to burn in me again, and I grab on to it. If I’m going to get through this, a bit of anger will only help me.

  There is movement on the other side of the arena, and I brace myself for my opponent. Although Xavier said they wouldn’t put us together, I can’t help but worry that they will anyway. Could I hurt Xavier? If my life depended on it?

  A guard steps out of the shaded area and starts walking down the steps, holding up his arms as the arena cheers at the appearance of my opponent. “Her opponent is one of our very own guards, Charlie! Give him a big applause as he puts our newest freak through her paces.”

  Letting out a relieved sigh, I start to examine the guard. I don’t have to fight anyone I know—at least, not today.

  “The rules are a little different for this fight,” the loud voice proclaims, and I try to focus on what he’s saying. There are rules? “The fight is to the death, the freak can use her powers however she likes, weapons in this match are only allowed by guards.”

  Voices from the cells behind me call out in protest, yelling foul play, but I know it’s useless. None of this is fair, and I’m not surprised they are changing the rules to suit them. I try to remember what Xavier said, they won’t want to kill me off yet. Snorting, I shake my head, looks like he was wrong.

  Walking down the steps and into the pit, I keep my shoulders back and my head held high. The midday sun is beating down on me, warming my skin as I go to meet my opponent. Keeping my focus on the man before me, I fade out all other sounds that could be a distraction, leaving only the thud of my heart and the tread of my bare feet against the ground. The difference between when they paraded me around the arena before and now is obvious. Before, when I was presented for everyone to see, I was dressed in bright clothing. Right now, I’m wearing the dirty, simple, oversized shift and loose trousers that swing around my legs as I walk. I look like a child playing dress up in her father’s clothing. My mind flicks back to the conversation I overheard between the guards in the cellblock. Are the changes because of the attack they were talking about? Are we all being punished as a result? No food, multiple fights, no shoes, or a chance to change into anything more suitable for fighting, and I’ve never fought before, but in the previous fights I watched, the freaks were allowed weapons.

  Reaching the pit, I walk out towards my opponent, standing on the X that marks my starting position. The stones on the floor are biting into my feet, but I ignore them, keeping my focus on the guard before me. From the previous matches I’ve watched, there is always a signal before the fight starts, so shifting my weight from foot to foot, I wait for the signal.

  When the guard suddenly shouts out and runs towards me, swinging his sword, I jump back instinctively, only saved by my fast reflexes.

  What the hell? Did he start before the signal? I think to myself. Glancing up at the Masters and seeing their smug faces, I realise that this has been done on purpose. Movement to the side of the Masters has me pausing, my eyes flicking to the man standing just to the right of the others. Shock hits me in the gut like a physical force.

  Alcide. Why is he sitting in the Masters’ box? I didn’t see him in the cells this morning, and as I stare up at him, I see he looks clean and is in new clothing I don’t recognise. He meets my gaze and I’m shocked at the blank expression I see there.

  A change in the air around me is the only warning I have of the guard’s next attack, and I manage to dodge him at the last moment. Putting aside my confusion and pain at seeing him with our captors, I focus on my opponent. Getting upset will only get me killed and I’m not prepared for that to happen today.

  They want entertainment? Then it’s time to put on a show.

  As the guard turns to attack me again, I throw myself forward into a cartwheel, easily moving out of his way and avoiding his strike. I continue to do this for a few minutes, barely winded, but I can see the guard is struggling to keep up, his heavy armour weighing him down. The crowd is getting restless, their thirst for blood not being met.

  My distraction of looking up at the crowd costs me valuable seconds as my opponent surges towards me. I spin at the last moment, but his sword catches my shoulder, cutting a long line from the top of my arm down to my elbow. Hissing in pain, I back away, surprised that my powers didn’t protect me, but then again, it was too fast for me to protect myself. My body starts to tingle as it works on knitting my skin back together while I wearily watch the guard.

  I still don’t want to reveal too much of my powers, but using healing always weakens me, and the lack of food and being under this burning sun is draining me. I need to end this quickly.

  The next time the guard charges me, I twist out of his way, kicking out a leg and tripping him in the process, calling for the vines to grow up out of the ground and hold him down. They obey and he screams out as they cover him, pinning him to the pit, but the effort this takes is exhausting. Here in the dusty arena there isn’t much plant life,
and I have to dig down deep into the ground to find potential aid. I can’t just create vines and plants, I can only encourage their growth, and having them buried so deep down makes it much more difficult.

  Kneeling down on the chest of the thrashing guard, I see his eyes are wide with fear. He’s scared of me and that shocks me more than anything.

  “Sorry,” I apologise softly, before I produce a knife in my hand. His expression turns to horror as he opens his mouth to plead with me. Before he can speak, I bash the pommel of the knife into his head, wincing as his skull bounces off the hard ground, but it has the effect I need it to as the guard passes out.

  Standing up, I back away from the unconscious guard and look up at the Masters.

  “The fight is to the death,” the loud voice declares again, but I refuse to move, staring up into the eyes of the Masters. I doubt I will get away with it for long, but I won’t kill, not today. I’m not sure how long we have this silent standoff, but the crowd starts to get restless. One of the Masters waves his hand and the doors to the pit open, then five armoured guards march in with their swords drawn.

  “The fight is to the death.” The rules are spoken again, and one of the guards stalks forward to my injured opponent. I think they are going to take him away, caring for one of their own, and give me another opponent to fight. Except, I’m not sure that I have it in me to fight another challenger.

  However, I was wrong. Kneeling, the guard removes the injured guard’s helmet, and without a flicker of emotion on his face, brings the knife to my opponent’s throat and slashes it in one quick strike.

  Horrified, I take a step back as the blood quickly pools around us, disgust and fear running through me.

  “The winner is, Rhea the Immortal.”

  Later on, when we are pushed back down to our cells, I debate showering. My skin is filthy from sleeping on the floor and being up in the arena, a thin layer of dirt and grime cover it, and I am starting to smell. Tonight, we aren’t locked up right away, and everyone else heads straight for food, so I lean into Nixon, thinking this is the perfect time.

  “I need to shower, could you maybe stand in the entryway?” I request quietly, not wanting to give anyone a shot at me, and my cheeks heat at the idea of strangers seeing me naked. I’m comfortable in my skin now, probably from all the time with my men and the lack of modesty they have, but it doesn’t mean I want to flaunt it in front of these men. I’m not a fool, it doesn’t matter if they find me attractive or not, they have been locked down here for a long time without a woman. Add in adrenaline and a need to fight, and I look like the perfect prize, so I am taking no chances.

  I glance up at Nixon, almost begging with my eyes, but he frowns, staring across at the showers. “There are two open doorways,” he points out in a rumble, and I whine, realising my mistake.

  Shit. He’s right.

  I sag a little, knowing I won’t be showering tonight.

  “I’ll take the other one,” comes Xavier’s voice from behind us.

  I spin and eye him. “Why?”

  He shrugs. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I won’t look, if that’s what you are worried about. I’ll turn my back and block the entrance, and if you use one of the showers closest to a door, they shouldn’t be able to see in.”

  “Done.” Nixon nods and I trust his judgement. Not for the first time, it does make me wonder, though, what he said or did to win my fierce giant’s trust. But if there is one thing I know for sure, it’s to trust Nixon’s judgement, plus Xavier has never hurt me. In fact, he has helped me, saved my life, when he didn’t have to. Maybe it’s time I started trusting him too, a strange thought since I trust no one outside of my family, but we are in a whole new world right now and friends might mean the difference between living and dying.

  Nixon twines my fingers with his and I lead him over to the showers. I pick the one closest to the door like Xavier said, and watch as he locks eyes with me from the other doorway. Something passes between us before he turns, crosses his arms, and blocks the doorway completely with his back to me. Nixon does the same in the entrance closest to me and I sigh in relief. I can’t wait to be clean.

  I shuck out of my clothes quickly, folding the garments knowing I will have to re-wear them. I am also going to have to wash them in here at some point and try and dry them so that they aren’t as…nasty, but for now, they will do. Stepping closer to the cracked, tiled partition, I pull the silver handle to the side and water sprays instantly from the head built into the wall higher up.

  It hits my skin cold and makes me jump. Shivering, I cross my arms over my chest, but force myself to duck under and slick back my hair. Slowly, the water begins to heat up to the point where I can relax and start cleaning my skin.

  There’s no soap, but I don’t care, not when I see the colour of the water hitting the drain between my feet. I’m just happy to get rid of the grime and dried sweat feeling. I daren’t stay in here too long, so I scrub my hair as best as I can to get any sand or dirt out, and then linger just for a moment longer, letting the water hit my sore muscles.

  “Yo, big guy, let me see our Firecracker,” comes Jessie’s voice from behind Nixon and I grin, turning to see him leaning down to peek between Nixon’s parted thighs. He winks at me and waves before straightening.

  “Alcide know you’re here? What happened to the plan?” Nixon inquires.

  “Don’t know, haven’t seen him, and guess what? I don’t care. Come on, I want to see Rhea, I miss her,” he whines, and my heart thumps. I miss him too.

  “Nix,” I call softly.

  He looks at me over his shoulder, his eyes softening, and he nods. He lets Jessie squeeze past then goes back to blocking the door. Jessie grins at me and opens his arms. I rush into his embrace, slipping across the floor. He picks me up and spins me around, making me laugh before he lets me slide down his body.

  He cups my face, his eyes sparkling and his smile sad. “I missed you,” he whispers.

  “I missed you too,” I reply, leaning into his touch and pressing my body against his. I think this is the longest I have been without their touch, and my body is starved for it, craving each rough stroke of Blain’s pleasure pain touch, Jessie’s soft, worshipful gaze, and Rex’s firm, sweet love. I can’t help it, I know I shouldn’t, we have a plan to stick to, and even though the other fighters are eating, they could finish at any moment and come exploring, but I lean up, place my hands on his firm chest, and press my lips to his.

  He groans, his chest rising and falling faster against my palms. I can feel his heart racing, matching mine. “Rhea,” he whispers raggedly against my lips.

  Draping my body against his, trusting him to hold me up, I lick the seam of his lips before nibbling on the plump bottom one. Stroking my hands up his chest and around his neck, I clasp them there, holding him to me as I kiss him. I need him to show me that he is right here with me, that everything is still the same between us. That he and his body miss me as much as I miss him.

  He groans and then seems to snap, kissing me back. I can taste his desperation as he sweeps his tongue into my mouth, tangling it with mine before teasing me. His kiss is like him, flirty and playful, and I’m soon gasping into his mouth. My body is on fire and he hasn’t even touched me. My legs are shaking, my nipples are pebbled and hard against his chest, and my center is slick with my desire for him.

  Keeping his mouth locked with mine, he walks me backwards until my back hits the cold tile, then he hoists me up against it. Gripping his hair in my hands, I wrap my legs around his waist, the water hitting us from the side, not that either of us care.

  Releasing his curly locks, I trace my hands down his shoulders, tugging at his shirt. He pulls his torso away, still pinning my lower half to the wall as he rips his shirt over his head and then swoops back to kiss me. Moaning into his mouth, I scrape my nails down his sculpted back, feeling the pull of his muscles before he shudders against me. He pulls away slightly, his eyes wide and filled with hu
nger, his plump lips red and parted as he breathes fast.

  “Firecracker,” he rasps, lust coating the word, making me rub against him.

  “I need you,” I whisper.

  He closes his eyes as if in pain and leans farther into me, his bare, slick chest rubbing against my breasts. “Are you sure?”

  Grabbing his shoulders again, I dig my nails in and force his eyes to mine. “Inside me,” I demand, and he grins, his eyes twinkling.

  “As you wish, Firecracker.” He kisses me again, sweeping his tongue in and tangling with mine. Whatever was holding him back is now setting him free. His hand comes between our bodies, cupping my breast and making me gasp. He pulls away from my lips, kissing down my shoulder and chest, sucking my nipple into his mouth.

  My head falls back into the wall, my eyes closing as I grab his hair and hold him to me. He twists and flicks my nipple, moving his mouth from one to the other until I’m biting my lip, trying to stay quiet as I rub myself against his hard length pressed between my thighs. Rocking against him, I coat his cock with my cream. He catches his teeth on my nipple and my eyes fly wide, my whole body shivering in need. My gaze drifts up of its own accord and clashes with Xavier’s. He doesn’t look away or even pretend he isn’t watching us, and I don’t seem to care.

  I push my breast farther into Jessie’s mouth, rocking harder against his cock as pleasure ripples through me, building up, seeming to pull from my very toes. Xavier’s dark eyes stay locked on mine, his jaw grinding as his gaze drops to my body, taking it all in before he meets my eyes again, and the hunger there, coupled with Jessie’s mouth, throws me over the edge.

  I nearly scream, but Jessie reaches up and covers my mouth with his lips, swallowing my whimpers as I shake against the wall, my pussy clenching on nothing. My eyes close, breaking mine and Xavier’s stare, and when the shock of my orgasm passes, I open them only to see him with his back to me like nothing happened. But the tight muscles on his frame remind me he watched, and he liked it. Jessie moves back again, letting me suck in uneven breaths as he smirks at me.