Page 53 of The Last True Hero
Could he truly blame the people of Absolution for turning their backs on him? For wanting him out of their lives? Out of their town? Sweat trickled down his spine, and he held on to Mia's thigh tightly.
"Who do you think will win this bout?" Vex asked, tossing a couple of coins at Nero. "Reaper, or Slash?"
"What?"
"Reaper or Slash?" she repeated, reminding him that the wargs in the arena were the least of his problems.
Adam considered them both. Reaper was a giant of a man, with a close-cropped beard and tattoos that crawled up his arms and throat, peering through the straggly fur. As he lifted an enormous iron hammer, the crowd screamed again. But there was something about the way Slash paced to and fro, watching his opponent's every move, that made him hesitate. This one was more wolf than man.
"How many bouts has Slash won?" he asked, trying to avoid offering his opinion.
Vex cast shrewd eyes his way. "All of them, so far, though he hasn't yet faced my champion. I'm saving that match for the third night, if he wins here. Reaper's been brought up from Fort Henry, where he's the champion. Do you think he can kill the beast?"
Everything he saw decreed this match should go to Reaper: the scrawny Slash looked lean, scarred, and underfed. "Slash will win," he said softly.
Vex's smile turned oily. "Put my money on Slash," she told Nero. "I like the way you think, McClain. Slash is mine. Let's hope you don't cost me my coin."
"He's not here for the cheers of the crowd, or whatever else they're promised. He just wants to kill."
"That's because I don't treat them as anything other than what they are. Raiden from Fort Henry nurtures his wargs. Promises them things. Thinks they're human. I don't. They win, or they die. Then they feed my other wargs."
As he looked away, he caught Zarina's eyes. The younger Cypher watched him, and suddenly the sweat down his spine chilled him. She faded into the background so easily that he needed to remind himself that Vex wasn't the only danger.
The bout began. Reaper launched forward, swinging his hammer as Nero hurried off to place Vex's bet.
"Ah. Here comes my favorite." Vex's attention caught on something else.
A tall man strode up the stairs, black hair streaming over his shoulders and an eye patch covering one eye. His short black beard was neatly trimmed, and he wore expensive black leather that seemed not to fit in with the rest of the crowd. They wore scraps of clothing and armor that were clearly salvaged; the very look of this man screamed that he had coin to buy his own. Behind him was a tall redhead on a leash, her eyes downcast and one side of her face bruised. Her pale skin gleamed beneath the floodlights, like polished pearl, and a taupe robe barely covered her.
Reivers reached out to touch her, but the man shot them a fierce look and they cringed backward, away from him.
Jake cursed under his breath and straightened in his chair. "Son of a—" He jerked to a halt, as if remembering himself.
Adam knew, even before he heard Mia suck in a sharp breath, that the woman before him was one of hers.
* * *
Blood spattered the sands.
Mia flinched, despising the way it only drove the crowd to a higher frenzy. The poor woman in the chains squirmed and sobbed, trying to free herself, but her fate lay in the hands of the warg who won her.
Or Vex, if she felt merciful.
Swallowing bile, Mia looked up—just in time to see her sister jerked to her knees beside a man wielding a leash in his fist.
Every molecule in her body went still.Sage. She started to move, but a hand yanked her back into her seat. McClain. Mia froze. Now wasn't the time to let control slip through her fingers for even a second. Jake eased out a breath at her side, and Mia's hand found his.
Mia willed her sister to look up. Sage wore a couple of bruises on her pale skin, but her lips were pressed firmly together, still hinting at defiance. Whatever she'd been through in the past few days, it hadn't broken her. That had been Mia's biggest fear, after Sage lost the baby. It had taken months for her sister to recover, and she feared losing Sage to that blackness again, more than anything.
Come on, damn you. A breathless moment as she waited—needed—her sister to look up.
Slowly, as if sensing eyes upon her, Sage lifted her gaze. Their eyes met, and Sage's mouth fell open.
"Nice-looking slave you've got there," McClain said sharply, his hand still resting on her thigh.
Sage's head jerked to him, then she looked down again.
Mia forced herself to control her racing heartbeat. Her baby sister was alive. That was all that mattered. And it didn't look as though she'd broken. There'd been mutiny there, in Sage's green eyes, when she first looked up.
