Page 102 of Death Bringer

Ah, there he was. She breathed a little easier, only to almost squawk in annoyance as some kind of shield came up around the arena, weakening her link to a trickle. Would it be enough to maintain their connection? If she increased her power, someone might detect it. Hopefully, once the battle began and interest turned to that, she could increase the voltage.

“Is Morosov supposed to fight them all at the same time? It seems a bit one-sided.”

“I assume there is more to it than that.” The queen’s pale beringed fingers were twisted tightly together in her lap.

The trumpets sounded again. Adam the asshole stepped forward, his voice carrying down the entire length of the hall.

“The contest between Death Bringer and the sect is to the death.”

“Hopefully, your death,” Ella muttered.

“Let us begin.” He clapped his hands and the four sect members dispersed to God knows where, leaving Vadim alone at the far end of the hall. Ella focused her awareness of her mate and began to pray.

* * *

Vadim caughtsight of Ella in her pink jeans, sitting next to his mother at the far end of the hall. A more incongruous pair he could hardly imagine, but they appeared to be talking to each other. Ella’s mind brushed his like a butterfly’s wings. He almost smiled, and just remembered to turn it into a glare instead. He felt the hum of magical power as a shield enclosed the hall and the wavering of his mate’s presence in his head. Before he could panic, she was back, a little weaker but definitely there.

Adam started shouting something about the battle being on, and then the four members of the sect promptly disappeared, leaving Vadim standing by himself in the center of the floor. Wasn’t anyone going to tell him the rules? Perhaps there were none. His smile was savage and his fangs elongated, scraping past his lip. Not that he needed any rules. He was quite prepared to kill and maim as necessary to win his and Ella’s freedom.

And when Ellawasfree, they’d be having a conversation she would never forget…

The tiled floor beneath his feet started to shake as if they were having an earthquake. When the dust settled, a strange array of rocks and ruined buildings covered the floor space, reminding him of the ruins of a classical city, or an overturned chessboard. Some of the buildings were high and some quite low. Presumably they were meant to provide cover for the sect as they took turns to try and fuck him up.

A flicker of movement on his right held his attention, and he turned as another massive bolder with the icy sheen of an iceberg shot up through the floor, cracking the tile. On top of it was one of the sect, his dagger poised to throw.

Vadim ducked to the side and held his hand palm up to deflect the passage of the blade. At the last moment, he realized the dagger was magically primed to find his heart, and had to increase his own power to repel it. The tip of the blade grazed his outstretched thumb and pain shot through him. With a roar, he sent the weapon spinning like a boomerang right back at the red-haired man who’d thrown it. The metal gleamed in the sunlight as it sliced through the male’s silk shirt, drawing a corresponding line of stark red and a shout of rage.

The smell of his own blood and that of his opponent mingled in the air, making Vadim lick his lips in anticipation.

“Watch out behind you!”

He spun around as Adam appeared to his right, backed against an ancient-looking Roman arch, an arrow notched and ready to fly from his small Fae bow. Where the hell had that come from? Hadn’t they agreed no weapons but daggers beforehand?

“That’s not allowed!” Vadim shouted.

“Says who?” Adam loosed the arrow.

“Me.” Vadim flicked his finger and set the arrow alight, scattering the charcoal ashes and then blowing them back in his opponent’s face. Adam disappeared, coughing in a cloud of black ash. Vadim turned back to the rock face only to see it vanish again into the floor. The bald sect member sent a blast of magic across the divide, and Vadim retaliated.

Could he create his own obstacles for the sect? He tried a quick spell, but nothing happened. Things were definitely weighted against him. Dammit, he hated being so out in the open. He ran for cover. Another blast followed the first, and he dodged that one too.

“He’s not as confident as the other three, Morosov. He fears you. Get in his face.”

Ella was obviously intent on giving him an in-depth analysis of his enemy’s thoughts. Not that he was complaining. From her position at the other end of the hall, sometimes she could see his opponents even more clearly than he could. And he was man enough to realize that in this situation, he needed all the help he could get. Instead of backing off, he ran straight toward the male, leaping the crater where the rock had stood and blasting magic from both hands. The bald one started to retreat, his terrified gaze on Vadim, his thoughts shouting out to his comrades for help.

He’d forgotten he had Ella’s empath talents. They might come in handy for tracking when his opponents intended to attack. Vadim kept going, then brought the man down beneath him. He kicked out wildly, screaming like a stuck pig. Vadim forced his head back, baring his throat.

“Tell me how to get my mate’s face back.”

“No!”

“Tell me.”

“Morosov,Red’s almost on you.”

Vadim sent a surge of power through his captive and the man went limp. He wasn’t dead yet, but he was definitely out of the fight for a while. He dropped the body to the ground and went to stand, only to be sent crashing to his knees again by the force of a magical blow. His left shoulder hurt like fuck, and his feathers were smoldering, never a good smell at the best of times.

And now he was pissed.

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