The crowd of angels and demons take their seats in record time. Verus and Armageddon are last to process into the stadium. Angels in white armor flank either side of Verus. I recognize Rhiannon and Levi. Extra protection for Verus; not a good sign.
Squinting, I examine the dark balcony. Armageddon’s surrounded by massive stone-skinned demons. Clementine sits there too, a satisfied smirk twisting her piggish face. I grip my hands behind my back to hide how I’m shaking.
The match is ready to begin.
Sharkie thumps his staff one more time. “Angels, ghouls, and demons, I bring you–”
Armageddon raises his pointer finger, his voice echoing through the stadium. “I request the presence of the Scala and Scala Heir.” He shoots a snide glance at the Oligarchy. “Do you agree?”
Huh. As if they’d ever disagree.
The Oligarchy speak in unison. “Call the bearers.”
Minutes tick by. I hop in place, cracking my neck from side to side. Man, I hate waiting around. Pisses. Me. Off. My inner wrath demon awakens, sending my tail in arc over my shoulder. New emotions—rage and frustration—combine with the terror that overwhelmed me before. Makes me feel better, actually. My shoulders loosen, getting ready to hit something.
Finally, a long portal opens in the center of the Arena floor. Out of it steps six ghouls carrying a stretcher. The Scala lies atop it, deep in sleep. Nearby stands the Scala Heir in her white robes. Her head is held high (a little too high, in the opinion of the real Scala Heir) as she scans the crowd.
Adair raises her hand. “I’d like to say something, if I may?”
Sharkie bows. “Of course, oh, Scala Heir.”
“I was so touched when this random ghoul visited me and asked if I could join you people today. It really shows you’ve come to revere me. Thank you. Really.”
I shoot a glance toward Lincoln. His gaze shifts between me and Adair; he shakes his head from side to side. I know exactly what he’s thinking: she should never be here without any thrax to protect her.
Dingbat.
Sharkie pounds his staff onto the stadium floor. “Now we shall–”
Armageddon sniffs. Sharkie and the stadium fall silent. “I was not finished.”
My muscles tighten as fear crawls up my spine. I don’t like the smug grin rounding Armageddon’s mouth. What could he possibly have to say? Get on with the match already.
Muscles twitch in the emcee’s gray neck. In her balcony, Verus grips her throne, her blue eyes narrowing into slits. A long pause follows, then Sharkie stammers out one word: “Ye…Yes?”
Rising to his feet, Armageddon shoots his thin arms high. “ATTACK!”
My body freezes with shock. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
What happens next takes seconds, but each one ekes by in what feels like years, beginning with demons streaming out of the stands and onto the Arena floor. I gasp, suddenly realizing why all the part-Furor fighters in Purgatory—every top quasi warrior we have—were brought together in the Arena today:
To wipe us all out at once.
I scan the top lip of the stadium. The Oligarchy stand stunned, their skeletal heads wagging. They stumble about for a bit, then step into their own portals and disappear. The main exit goes with them.
Thanks a lot, assholes.
In the white stands, the angels form an ad hoc group around Verus’s balcony, but it’s unclear if they want to protect her or look for escape. Either way, these aren’t warriors. The demon fighters close in with military precision, slaughtering their way through the angel spectators to reach Verus and her entourage.
My body shivers with icy shock. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Spreading her wings, Verus takes to flight. Some of her guard fight the demons in hand-to-hand combat, others take to the air and surround their Queen. A pack of demons pump their bat-like wings and rise into the air as well. The two sides claw, swoop, and stab each other in a dog-fight above my head.
The sight is surreal, overwhelming. The world moves by in super-slow motion. My heartbeat booms in my ears. I inspect the Arena floor, looking for the archway where Lincoln was waiting. He’s no longer there.
Walker touches my shoulder, snapping me back to attention. “I’ve used Group Think to call my brothers and sisters in the Aquilinea. They’ll transport as many angels as they can.” He scans the crowd. “We need to get you out of here.” He frowns. “There are too many people around to easily open a portal, but I’ll have to try.”
“What about Lincoln?” I scan the nearby crowd, seeing little past the close press of bodies.
Walker closes his eyes. “He’s on the Arena floor.” He grabs my hand. “I’ll come back for him right after I move you.”
“Got it.” Bracing myself, I wait for the familiar buzz of a portal opening.