Jaws was coming right for her, raising his broadsword now. But before he could get to her, the Gray Ghost leapt for him, daggers flashing like a serpent’s fangs. The blades cut into Jaws’s back, soaking his clothes in blood.
Jaws’s scream curdled her stomach. He fell to the ground, and Gray Ghost ended his torment with a quick slash to his throat.
Her eyes scanned for the next threat, and she stared at a trident-wielding demon, his skin elephant-gray. In a blur of black leather and teeth, Massu launched himself into the air. Screaming like a banshee, he attached himself to the demon’s head. Ursula could distinctly hear the crunch of bone as he began to chew through the demon’s face. Fuck me sideways. I do not want to fight an oneiroi.
She took a step closer to Bael.
Bael touched her arm, and she jumped. “Come with me.”
She turned, keeping her back to the wall as they moved.
They moved back-to-back, swords drawn, but they might as well have kept them sheathed. The other demons ignored them. Instead, like sharks scenting blood, they charged toward the skirmish in the center of the arena.
“Five, six, seven deaths,” Hothgar’s voice boomed, his glee audible. “Only nineteen more will die today.”
The demons swarmed the center of the arena like piranhas fighting over a corpse. Between shouts of pain, blood sprayed in the sand. From the melee, the sound of clashing steel rung through the air. Around them, the bodies of the fallen champions twitched.
“twelve… thirteen deaths,” Hothgar shouted. “Prepare to light bitumen sands.” His voice boomed over the arena like a death knell.
Cold fear washed over Ursula. The bitumen sands? The oneiroi, holding torches, ran to the edges of the arena.
“On my command,” boomed Hothgar.
“Get your blade ready,” Bael growled. “We need to move.” He stalked toward the bloodbath in the center of the arena.
As she hurried after Bael, her eyes flicked to the oneiroi, who stood at the arena’s edges with their torches.
“Now,” said Bael.
There wasn’t time to ask what was going on—she just had to decide to trust him. At least for now. Ursula’s heart thundered in her chest, and she broke into an all-out sprint, heading for the melee. She no longer had any choice but to fight.
Around the perimeter, they dropped their torches. A ring of fire burst to life, encircling the entire arena. From the edges, the flames spread inward, searing the darkness. Hothgar was forcing them into the melee. As she entered the fray, she tried not to stare at the carnage—at the demon slicing through another’s neck with a scimitar, at the blood spurting from his stump like a geyser. If she stared too long, she’d completely shut down mentally.
Still sticking by Bael’s side, she looked to the right, at a demon who loomed over her with a broadsword. Blood dripped down his black beard, and he glared at her through milky eyes. “Are you ready to die, hound?”
“Can you handle him?” asked Bael.
Before she could actually answer Bael’s question, Blackbeard lunged, swinging for her head. She parried, grunting as his sword slammed against hers. She dodged out of reach.
He swung again, but this time she was able to duck the blow entirely. With a savage thrust, she stabbed at his chest. Growling, he jumped back. The tip of her blade sliced the skin over his ribs. Blood sprayed her face.
“Bitch,” he said through gritted teeth. “I will rape you to death.”
A hot flood of anger blazed through her nerves. If she’d had Emerazel’s power in her veins, she would have immolated him. Instead, raw fury burned away her fear, and she narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”
She lunged, thrusting. This time, the blade slid deep between his ribs. With a twisting motion, she directed it upward to where his heart should be. The demon’s milky eyes widened with shock. A fat drop of blood rolled from his chin. Groaning, he slumped to the ground, and she pulled out her sword.
“Nineteen deaths!” roared Hothgar to the cheers of the crowd. Their cries had grown increasingly bloodthirsty as the last of the sunlight seeped from the sky.
Behind her, she heard the clash of steel. She stole a glance over her shoulder. Bael was locked in combat with the two enormous demons—Romulus and Remus.
“Can you handle them?” she shouted.
Bael swung for Romulus, grunting.
Was that a yes or a no?
Bael’s sword was parried in a clash of steel. Romulus twisted his wrist, catching Bael’s blade. He drove Bael’s katana into the earth with a thud.
Instantly, Remus lunged for Bael’s chest, but Bael slipped away, moving like the wind.
He’d dodged the strike, but a third opponent came up behind him—a winged man who slashed at Bael with his talons.
Ursula gritted her teeth. Time to jump in.
The three demons boxed Bael in. He fought in a blur of clashing steel, whirling and ducking with astounding grace. No wonder he’s so confident. He parried the blows that assaulted him from both sides. So fast—she could hardly see what was happening—he sliced through the neck of the winged man.