Page 30 of Reaper
“Nope.”
“I like you, Murray James.You’re funny, you’re a good fighter, and you know how to play to the crowd.I think you’re hiding something, probably a lot of somethings, so I don’t trust you even a little bit, but I like you.”
“Well, since you’ve all been such founts of fucking information since I got here, I suppose it’s a little unfair that we haven’t braided each other’s hair while I told you about my favorite color and who in homeroom I have a crush on, but that’s just the way it goes sometimes,” I said.
“What do you want to know about our little operation?”he asked.
“Where the fuck am I, for one.Who’s really in charge, for another.And how can I get in a bet or two on myself, for a third,” I ticked my questions off on my fingers, expecting to have exactly none of those questions answered.
The Boss held up three fingers of his own, folding them down as he answered.“You’re in the Colosseum, but you knew that already.I’m in charge enough for you, and you’d better hope you never meet my boss, because he’ll scare the balls off a donkey just lookin’ at him, and fighters aren’t allowed to bet on their own fights until the higher tiers, and even then only on themselves, not their opponents, on account of we can’t have some asshole throwing a fight just because he thinks he’ll make more money losing than winning.Which brings us to today.”
“I didn’t bet on my fight,” I said.
“But you did throw your last fight.”There was no question in his voice, and I didn’t bother lying.
“Yeah, not that I needed to.Tony was just screwing around until he laid me out regardless.He was playing with his food.I couldn’t beat a faerie knight in single combat without at least a Desert Eagle, and only that if I had cold iron rounds.”It stung a little to admit that, but even my ego has its limits.Oberon’s knights were badass motherfuckers, and at full strength, I might be able to take one out, but not without depleting all my stored power and a little more besides.
“He was that, wasn’t he?”Boss chuckled.“Still and all, I’m here to make fights, and to make interesting fights, and that show you two put on was boring as all fuck.Because of you.Now, I’m not busting you down to Tier Two, because you’re too strong for that shite, and it would just make for another boring scrap.You’re obviously here to climb the ladder and make some real money, so I’m giving you one more Tier Three fight.But we’re going to add a little something to make it more interesting.This time, you fight two on one.”
I thought for a second about the guys I’d seen in the mess and did some mental calculus.If I had my full strength, I could probably take out any two of them at once, as long as none of them were secretly super-warriors like Anthony.Regular paras, used to winning through their strength, speed, and reflexes, are actually easy, if you know the limits of their abilities.It’s the ones who pair all those physical advantages with training, like Anthony, who make life difficult.
“Okay, that sounds fine,” I said.
“Yeah, I thought you’d think that.”He pulled out a keyboard drawer and tapped on it.I immediately felt my connection to Becks, and my magic, thin down to the barest sliver.“That’s why I’m also throttling your magic.You’re a lot more powerful than we thought based on your Tier One fight, so to keep it interesting, we’re going to send you in against a couple of Tier Three guys with just enough magic to keep you alive.”
He leaned forward, all geniality gone from his face.“You fuck with my fights, you fuck with me.And trust me, Murray James, no matter how much of a funny fucker I find you to be, you do not want to fuck with me.”
I leaned forward, mirroring his posture, and stared deep into his eyes.With my magic tamped down, I didn’t have to worry about my soulgaze frying his brain, so I could stare at him like a normal person.“How many times did you have to practice saying ‘funny fucker’ before you could manage it without getting tongue-tied?”
His eyes widened, and after a second or two of frozen time, he burst out laughing.“Oh, Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, you are a fuckingriot, Murray.I hope they don’t break your jaw when they kick your ass, because goddamn, you are hilarious!Now get the fuck out of my office and get some time in the yard before Saturday.Because I guarantee it’s going to be a fight, and an entertaining one as well.Just…maybe not so entertaining for you.”
23
It was a boring few days between fights.I ate, I worked out, albeit not much until my ribs healed, and I slept.I also read, finding out the day after my little tete-a-tete with the Boss that there was an expansive digital library and a dozen e-readers available for fighters.A more tech-savvy hero than I would have figured out how to hack the building’s wi-fi with it and send a message out to Becks with my location encoded in it, but I’m more the “blow shit up” guy than the “sit in a chair and figure it out” guy.I might have stolen that last line from Bubba, but it holds true regardless.
So I read, and I recuperated, and I ate most of my meals with Anthony, who felt a little bad about nearly decapitating me with a kick.But just a little bad.The morning after our fight, we met for breakfast, where he claimed that he knew his own strength well enough to have just knocked me out, but confessed that he was glad I wasn’t a normal human because that probably would have resulted in my skull flying ten feet away from my shoulders.I told him I was also glad he didn’t literally kick my head off, and we had a pleasant breakfast.
So I was bored by the time Pete came to fetch me for my next fight, this one a Saturday night bout, so the crowds were larger and the money wagered far more significant.So far, I didn’t have a good sense of who I’d be facing, but I was hoping for at least one of the new paras that had just been promoted from Tier Two.One guy was a shifter that looked scared out of his noggin anytime anyone looked at him cross-eyed.I couldn’t fathom how he’d made it past Tier One, much less anything else.If I had to fight two on one, I really wanted him to be part of the two.Then it would be more like a fair fight.
I followed Pete into the arena, and the roar when the door opened to let me in was deafening.I’d been in the audience for some massive concerts, and the decibels that slammed into my chest when I stepped onto the sound was like Live Aid, Farm Aid, and pretty much every Kiss concert ever, all rolled into one.I literally staggered back with my ears ringing before I could get myself under control.Pete put a hand between my shoulder blades and shoved, mistaking my sensory overload for reluctance.
I staggered a step or two into the arena and barely heard the clang of the door behind me.I looked around for my opponents, and just as the ring announcer bellowed “Murrrrraaaaaay James,” my heart sank.I got the dance partner I wanted in the skittish were fresh from Tier Two, but I also got one of the opponents I least wanted to face—Yannis, the wolf I’d pummeled and embarrassed in the dining hall.He stood grinning at me, then gestured to the smaller were and began to shift.
Seconds later, I was looking at a massive half-man, half-wolf creature that stood nearly eight feet tall on his back legs, and had enormous hands tipped with claws like razor blades.Beside him stood his far less imposing partner, who would be dangerous nonetheless.New guy wasn’t a wolf at all, explaining his smaller stature, but a were-bobcat.Tufts of fur sprang all around his neck, and elongated canines extended down over his short muzzle.If I was being honest, he looked about as intimidating as the Rum-Tum-Tugger fromCats, but I knew from past experience that were-bobcats were fast and their claws were needle-sharp.He wasn’t going to be a pushover, but Yannis was definitely the biggest threat.
But like all good generals, Yannis sent his subordinate in first to test the enemy.His method of delivering orders was to kick the bobcat in the ass with one massive furry foot, sending the little were down to all fours, where he dashed across the sand and sprang straight for my face.
Not being a complete moron, I moved my face, and the rest of me, to one side, slamming a shielded fist into the cat’s ribs.If I could incapacitate him quickly, I could turn my attention to Yannis, and maybe not get my ass completely kicked.Bobcat spun off his flight path at my punch but did that annoying cat thing where he twisted in midair and landed on all fours, then launched himself at me again, this time in a blind fury.Now I was beginning to see how he’d won a couple fights—sometimes you can get by on rage when you don’t have training or skill, and this kid definitely had some berserker shit going on.
I threw up a quick shield and caught the were on it, dropping to one knee as his body weight slammed into me.He clawed my shield and hissed at me in his fury, but I just shifted my arms, twisted at the waist, and slammed him to the ground.The air rushed out of him in awhoosh, and his eyes crossed momentarily.I dropped my shield, slammed a fist right between his eyes, and watched as he went unconscious.Mission accomplished.Now I could focus on Yannis.
Except Yannis had already focused on me, and reminded me half a second later what I’d learned the hard way in the mess hall—motherfucker wasfast.He was on me before KitKat’s eyes had even fluttered closed, wrapping both massive arms around me in a crushing bear hug.My ribs screamed in protest, and Yannis leaned down to my ear.
“You embarrassed me in front of the other fighters.Now I embarrass you in front of everyone.”
I would have been way more concerned if it hadn’t been such a stupid thing to do.Bear hugs can be crippling if you have a significant power advantage over your opponent, but there’s one thing you have to be really careful about.So I did exactly the thing you’re never supposed to let your opponent do when you’ve got them in a crushing grip—I slammed my skull backward into Yannis’s face.At least I didn’t bite his nose off.
It wasn’t quite as good as if he’d been fully human because his elongated snout was more over my shoulder than directly behind my head, but a broken orbital socket still hurts like a son of a bitch, and that’s what I gave my fine furry friend, courtesy of my thick noggin.Luke always tells me my head is my best weapon in any battle.I don’t think that’s exactly what he means, but I’ll give him credit anyway.
