Amber eyes flicked to me, crinkling with obvious humor.
That was when the phones of the Rulers and Elders started blowing up. Every single one of them rang almost simultaneously.
I put down my fork when King Collins answered his phone like the rest of the Royals.
All eyes landed on me.
I froze, then I leaned toward Brann.
From the expressions flittering over their faces, whomever the Royals were speaking with wasn’t giving them good news.
King Collins jerked from his chair, standing. Glaring at me, he hit a button on the wide-screen television on the wall. He asked into his phone, “What station?”
The other Royals were ending their calls, every single Mystical silent.
King Collins barked, “I’ll call you back, dammit.” He snapped his phone shut. When it rang again he ignored it…and again the next time it rang. My King found the channel he wanted and stood back from the screen, his arms crossed. His eyes were steady on the television like everyone else’s. The news report was already midstream.
“…hearing it here first, ladies and gentleman, with the Tipsy Slider,” the funky Mage news anchor announced. “Are you ready?” He paused, his eyes half-lidded. “From just last night, here is your next Queen Elemental.” He winked. “And I think you’ll like,” a slow drawl, “her dirty side.”
“Aw, shit,” I muttered, a hand going to my mouth.
“Who wants to challenge the castrator next?” an air Elemental announcer shouted from the sidelines into a microphone, throwing an arm out to the woman in the middle of the mud wrestling ring. Mud was up to her knees, and her brown, muddy head tilted back as she took a long chug straight from the bottle of vodka she held. She appeared to be wearing nothing under the mud covering her entire body, except for the barely visible bra and panties that did little to hide her assets. “Come on, people! One more! She just needs one more to break the record!” He leaned over the rope, holding out the microphone, and asked, “Why do you call yourself the castrator?”
The woman grinned. “That should be obvious.”
King Collins cursed as my voice echoed inside the room. Because yes, the woman on the screen was me.
“Could I change it to lover?” The announcer asked.
“Maybe later,” I slurred drunkenly, leaning back on the ropes and grabbing the mike with my free hand. I hollered into it, “C’mon, bitches! I want to break the damn record.” My grin was sloppy. “But please, don’t get in the ring if you cry easily. I promise not to be gentle.”
More cursing from King Collins.
The announcer took the mike back, stating, “Well, there you go, straight from the castrator’s mouth,” a glance down at me, “whom I hope to be seeing later tonight.” He turned his eyes back to the audience. “One more woman is all we need.”
“I’ll do it,” a female’s voice shouted from the sidelines, “I’ll take the cocky bitch down!”
Onscreen, I pumped a fist into the air, shouting, “Fuck yes.” I took another swig of my vodka before I held it out to the announcer to take as a Shifter woman came to the sidelines, efficiently undressing to her underwear. I evaluated her before saying to the announcer, “Put all I’ve made on this last fight. Down in less than a minute.”
“You sure?” he asked, his voice muffled because he put the mike behind his back. “You’ve already fought nineteen others, and she looks pissed.”
“Her hands are shaking,” I muttered, wobbling a bit in the mud. “She’s going down.”
“As you wish,” he stated, leaning over the ropes to me even as the Shifter got into the mud. He flat out smacked my ass. “Good luck.”
“Luck is for pussies.” I rolled a finger. “Let’s get this started.”
Without warning, a bell rang, and the Shifter flew at me.
I watched my onscreen self drop, disappearing beneath the mud as the Shifter flew over where I had been and hit the slopping brown stuff hard on her side. Mud splattered onto the screaming spectators on the sidelines, the roars of the crowd loud. I hadn’t re-emerged from under the mud, but when she jumped to her feet growling, her eyes flew wide and she screamed bloody murder right before her hands flew out. She fell back, going under the mud.