Page 17 of Reaper
“You wouldn’t call him a liar because you believe him, or because you know he’d cut you from your nipples to your nuts if you did?”I asked, stepping over to the hole and unzipping.I didn’t have to pee much, but if I was going to fight, I might as well empty my bladder first.There are very few things worse than getting hit really hard in the gut and pissing yourself.And I bet you can think of what at least one of those things is.
“A little of both, actually.”
“You seem like a decent kid, Pete,” I said.“How’d you end up as a prison guard?And where the hell am I, anyway?I haven’t been charged, or gotten to call my lawyer, or anything.”
“Don’t be obtuse,” came a deep voice with an Irish lilt from the doorway.“You know why you’re here.What I don’t yet know is who you are or why you tried so hard to join our little club.If you wanted to get in the ring, you could have simply asked.”
I turned around to see who was speaking, but he stood with his head shrouded in shadow, just outside the door.I could tell he was humanoid, and of medium build, and I could see the pale pink skin of his forearms.But that’s about it.“You’re the Boss, I presume?”
“I speak for him in all things; so as far as you are concerned, yes,” he replied.
That was interesting.Somebody was running things remotely, and this guy was just the onsite supervisor.That added a layer of assholes for me to pummel, not counting everyone I’d need to thrash to get out of here with my skin intact.“Okay, so I knew there was a fight club.And I wanted to get in on the action.But I didn’t want to be kidnapped.I want to get paid, man.So where do I sign the contract?And how much do I get paid to fight?”
The man laughed, a short, harsh expulsion that was devoid of real amusement.“Paid?Not for the opening bouts, pal.You get room and board, and you’re lucky we fed your ass.You make it through tonight, and we can talk about some more perks.We don’t make money off you undercard assholes.You’re just here to get the crowd revved up for the real fights after intermission.”
Okay, so this was set up like a real fighting promotion, with undercard, midcard, and headline fights.“What do I gotta do?”I asked.
“You fight.You’re the first fight of the night, and it’s a three-way with you and two other humans.Or at least, mostly human.What are you, anyway?You ain’t a were, and you ain’t vamp or faerie, so what does that leave?Possessed human?Ninth Circle demon in a borrowed meat suit?Some kind of Euro-trash cryptid I don’t recognize?”
This was when I realized that I probably should have put a little thought into a cover story.Becks or Luke are both way better at this shit than me, and I’d gotten way too comfortable having Flynn in my head to talk me through a false identity.I couldn’t exactly explain that I was Quincy Harker—that was sure to get me promoted to the top of the bill, if it didn’t get me decapitated right off the bat.And almost everything else I could lay claim to was either too recognizable or too scary.
So I went with the truth.Or a version of it, anyway.“Cambion,” I said, claiming the heritage of a half-demon, half-human hybrid.I did have a sliver of demon in me, inherited from Luke’s demon pal Skyffrax, so that should be enough to fool most people who could see my aura.It would also explain my strength, speed, and ability to wield magic.
“Cambion, huh?”Pete said with a whistle.“We ain’t had one of those before, Boss.Have we?”
“Not here, no,” the Boss replied.“Mighta been one back in Denver, but that was before you were with us.Okay, a Cambion.I can work with that.You types are strong and fast, right?And can cast a little?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Okay, there’s no magic in the opening bouts, so we’ll have to collar you.”
“The fuck you say,” I said, reaching for magic.I was still blocked, but I could tell from his shoulders shaking that Bossman was amused.
“These cells are all lined with sheets of cold iron and silver.You can’t touch magic here any more than you can touch the moon.But you’ll wear the collar, or we’ll take your head.We got guys who’ve killed things a lot tougher than some candy-ass half demon, so if you want to keep your neck intact, you’ll let Pete wrap this around it.”He held a hand out past my line of sight into the hallway, and when he brought it back into view, there was a silver collar in it.He tossed it to Pete, who motioned for me to kneel.
“I can’t really get it fastened good if you’re standing, sorry.”
I knelt and suppressed the urge to rip Pete’s arm off and shove it up his ass as he fastened the collar around my throat.I still felt Becks in the back of my mind, but it was even more muted than before.But I could still sense her, so I knew she was out there.And if she was out there, I wasn’t alone.So I let Pete collar me, and then I let him lead me out into the hallway and toward my first fight.
I almost felt bad for the poor bastards who were about to be in the ring with me.Almost.
13
Ifollowed Pete down a long concrete corridor with crappy fluorescent lighting every ten feet or so, leaving large chunks swathed in shadow.I suppose it was cheaper when the place was built, and once the bad guys moved in, it probably made them feel good to have more places to lurk, but the tactical part of me was loving all the places I could hide to get an advantage on the guards when I inevitably broke out.Assuming I didn’t just pull the whole building down around me.
I skipped the Armory visit, figuring if all they were going to let me use were sticks or knives, I could do better barehanded against low-level crytpids or paras.After I told them that, Pete and the pair of no-neck goons assigned as my guards led me to a heavy steel door with “Arena” scrawled on it in red spray paint.Going all out on the decor, these guys.The Boss had bailed as soon as the guards had me cuffed, turning right and heading down the corridor in the opposite direction from where they took me.Judging by the slight curve in the corridor, we were walking in a huge circle underneath a massive building.I stood still while the goons uncuffed my hands, and looked over at Pete, who had a shock of red curls atop his head and a smattering of freckles across his nose.
“Hey, Opie, you wanna take this collar off so I can give the crowd a real show?”I asked, giving him my best “we’re buds, right?”grin.
He just looked confused.“Who’s Opie?”and I felt a serious need for some Metamucil and a pair of Depends.“Besides, the Boss doesn’t want the first matches to have any magic.He says you gotta build a fight card so everything is better than the thing that came before it.That’s why you three don’t get to use magic or shift.You just gotta go out there and beat the hell out of each other.”
Not the first time I’ve been in a situation where I needed to kick a little ass, but the first time in a long time I didn’t have either the crutch of my magic, or backup.Oh well, time to kick it old school, as I’m sure nobody but me says anymore.“Okay, then.I’ll see you after the bell rings, Pete.”
“I hope so, pal.I kinda like you.You’re funny.”
I reached for the door, but Pete stopped me with his next question.“Hey, what’s your name, anyway?”
Oh, balls.In addition to not coming up with a backstory for my species, I also hadn’t come up with one for my name.Or anything, really.I thought for a second, then said, “Murray.Murray James.”I figured my mother’s maiden name and my older brother’s name would be obscure enough that nobody would pick up on it.
