“Fine,” snapped Raoul. “Let’s just get this over with. If they’re both intent upon dying, so be it. At least this way, I can actually pull the trigger on March myself.”
Justin’s gaze flickered to Mae, and she tried to give him a reassuring look as the whole group began moving toward the door. It opened, revealing a large, vaulted room. It was hard to say, but it might once have been the kind of work space that held cubicles and desks. They’d long since been cleared out, and the dull hum she’d heard earlier strengthened to a roar. At least a hundred people were gathered along the room’s sides. An audience, how perfect. It would be just like a canne tournament.
Passing near her, the scarred captor gave her a curious and almost sympathetic look. “I hope you’re good with a knife.”
She smiled.
CHAPTER 20
A TICKING TIME BOMB
Justin stared around the “arena” in amazement. He supposed he should have felt flattered that this many people had turned out on short notice to witness his so-called punishment. Rickety makeshift bleachers ringed the room’s periphery, and nasty barbed wire lined a large, rectangular space that formed the match’s ring. Unless he was mistaken, dark blotches on the floor looked suspiciously like bloodstains.
It actually wasn’t the first time he’d seen something like this. In Panama, grisly duels to the death popped up a lot among rival gangs as a more “civilized” way to deal with disputes. It was, however, the first time Justin had been at the center of one, and he certainly hadn’t expected it to be happening within Gemman borders.
Mae stood only a few feet away from him, and judging from the cool, predatory look on her face, she was busy studying her surroundings, sizing up the layout. He hoped she had a plan. He’d seen her in action enough to know she was good, but that Eugene guy was huge. And solid. Beside him, her slim body seemed hopelessly outmatched.
You’ve seen her take out guys just as big, said Horatio.
I know. But it was never to defend my honor. That, and from the looks of this rabble, I’m not convinced we’ll make it out alive even if she does win. For a moment, he forgot she was a trained warrior. She became that breathtaking lover, the one who’d lounged in his bed and given him a smile that undid him. He suddenly didn’t want her to fight. He wanted to rush forward and protect her.
Give her something to help, said Magnus.
An automatic weapon? suggested Justin.
No! Magnus sounded irritated. A blessing. Protection. It’s within your limited powers.
No, it’s not, argued Horatio. He hasn’t learned any of the runes.
We could show him, insisted Magnus.
Horatio was still obstinate. Showing isn’t the same as teaching. It takes years to learn them, to sear their meanings into the mind. That’s what he should’ve been doing in Panama, instead of chasing other men’s wives. Besides, he’d need to touch her to do a proper casting. Their hands are tied.
He could kiss her. Magnus sounded hopeful.
The crowd had cheered when they entered, and now they quieted as Nadia Menari’s father began speaking. He said nothing that hadn’t been said earlier—mostly how Justin had wronged his daughter by disbanding her church in Chicago, forcing her to flee here and go into her eventual self-imposed exile. If his life hadn’t been on the line, the whole thing would’ve been comical. Justin had seen Mae’s face when Raoul Menari told them the story of how Nadia’s vision quest had panned out. It was easy to understand why Mae held religions in such contempt, when foolish gods made people do foolish things like that.
Nadia’s goddess isn’t the one to worry about, said Magnus. Another’s moved in here. Can’t you feel it?
Justin started to say he couldn’t, but when he focused and made himself aware of his surroundings, he could detect a faint tingling along his skin and something inexplicable that danced along the edges of his mind.
It’s going to get even more crowded, added Horatio. Mae’s goddess won’t let her fight alone.
Raoul finished his rant. Two men came forward and pushed Mae toward the ring. Justin felt himself tense up, but she showed no fear as she strode forward. She kept her head held high, walking purposefully and determinedly. Someone undid her bindings and handed her two knives. She studied them carefully, tested their weight, and flipped them in the air, catching each one deftly. Satisfied with what she had found, she stripped off her overshirt, leaving herself in only a tank top. A few men in the audience whistled. She then struck a stance in her corner and watched as Eugene moved to the opposite one.
Raoul came to stand beside Justin, pure malice gleaming in the older man’s eyes. “Your castal whore is going to die for you, you know. I suppose this way, you’ll at least have company when you burn in the underworld.”