Arcing behind the main fray, she looked up.
Her stomach leapt into her throat. The Gray Ghost was flying directly for her, his face covered with his scarf. He pointed an enormous ash lance directly at her chest.
Ursula gripped Sotz’s fur tighter. She couldn’t fight a lance with a sword—the lance would knock her off Sotz before she got within striking distance. But hadn’t Bael said a good rider could avoid a lance with the right moves?
She clung tightly to Sotz, arcing away from the attack. Then, she clung to Sotz’s neck, and let her body slide down, so that her legs dangled beneath him. The lance grazed Sotz’s shoulder.
As she flew hanging from Sotz, adrenaline burned through her nerve-endings. In the distance, she heard the announcer calling out two more deaths. The lunar wind whipped through her hair, and she gently urged Sotz upright again. When she righted her bat, the Gray Ghost had disappeared. The other riders surged forward, already moving on to begin another circle around the spire.
Ursula leaned down, trying to keep pace with the three riders winging ahead of her. Bael’s silver lion insignia flashed in the sunlight.
She urged Sotz forward as they arced around the edge of the spire, the violet crystal gleaming in the sunlight. If she weren’t moments away from possible death, it might have been exhilarating.
As soon as they slammed into the riders a second time, her hackles were raised. Three riders were already charging for Bael. She arced closer to him, watching as his lance rammed into the chest of the lead rider. The horned demon shrieked, falling from the sky.
Still, two other riders pressed on Bael—and one of them slammed a lance right into Vesperella, goring the bat. Blood sprayed in the air, and Vesperella’s wings folded together.
To Ursula, it was like watching in slow motion, even though it happened in an instant. Panic ripped its claws through her heart, and she watched as Bael released Vesperella’s neck. He stood on her back for a moment. Then, a thousand feet in the air, Bael leapt towards the rider who’d just killed his mount, grasping at his feet. Vesperella tumbled, blood spraying from her hide as she grew smaller in the sky. Bael’s lance sparked in the sun as it fell.
Bael hung by one hand, dangling from the bat’s foot, and two other riders moved closer. Vultures, waiting for their chance to finish him off. One moved a little too close, and in a gravity-defying move, Bael swung his body into the air. He landed on the rider’s back. It took only an instant for him to fling the rider off.
The remaining rider began to close in on Bael. With Bael unarmed and on an unfamiliar mount, the ice-skinned demon saw a chance for easy prey. He unsheathed a cutlass.
Clenching her jaw, she raced lower toward Bael, the glacial lunar wind whipping over her skin. Saving Bael wasn’t part of the plan, but she wasn’t ready to watch him die. She ripped her katana from its sheath, charging for the ice-demon. Her body moved fluidly with Sotz’s, as if she’d been doing this all her life, and her gaze locked intently on one thing. Her prey.
No one expected death to come from the woman. From the bitch. No one expected her sword to find its way clean through their neck.
Crimson blood sprayed through the air as she cut through the demon’s head.
The demon’s body slumped, then rolled off his bat.
“Twelve down!” Hothgar’s voice boomed.
As Ursula glanced down at her blood-soaked sword, a chill spread through her veins. Predator. It seems, the answer is predator.
Chapter 33
Ursula stared at the thick blood dripping from her sword, then sheathed her weapon. Eyeing her, Bael nodded mutely, then began winging back to the dock. She swooped behind him, still catching her breath. Despite the cold lunar air, sweat matted Sotz's fur and dampened her clothes. Every one of her thigh muscles burned. She wanted to soak in a warm bath for days.
As she closed in on the dock, she maneuvered Sotz to land a little more gracefully this time. He touched down between Bael and a lanky demon in a black doublet. He turned to her, giving a little bow.
She leaned into Sotz, whispering, “That was some good flying.” The bat looked up at her with his beady eyes in an expression that could have been mistaken for relief.
“Nice swordsmanship,” Bael said, studying her. “A natural assassin.”
“It was an easy kill.” Okay. I sound a little like a sociopath.
An image burned in her mind—her sword slashing through the ice-demon's neck. It had come naturally to her.
Wherever she’d come from, F.U. had been a formidable predator. Ursula swallowed hard, eyeing Bael, the sunlight sparking in his eyes, a pale blue-gray, the color of ice floes.