A Taste for Blood (The Godhunter, Book 6) (7 page)

“
I guess I do know that,” Fenrir smiled gently, “but it's good to hear. Everything is so different now. It's unsettling but simultaneously exciting. The Froekn seem happier, more comfortable around me, and more relaxed in general. You've brought a new energy to our family and I want that to continue. I don't want to lose you to the lions.”

“
That won't happen,” I took his hand and squeezed. “I have both lion and wolf inside me and if they can get along in such close quarters, I don't see why the Froekn and the Intare can't form some kind of alliance as well.”

“
We're already connected through you,” Trevor leaned into the conversation. “This marriage will only strengthen the bond.”

“
If we do it properly,” I agreed.

“
I have no problem welcoming more fighters into the family,” Fenrir nodded thoughtfully as he let go of my hand. “I think if Fallon can prove himself in the arena, he'll be able to win the approval of the rest of the Froekn as well.”

“
Just one condition,” I added. “No killing. If Fallon dies, it could start a feud and I'd like to avoid that.”

“
I think I can get the wolves to limit themselves to beating him soundly,” Fenrir chuckled.

“
See,” I pointed at his smiling face, “that's the look I love. I don't want you to give that up and I don't want the Froekn to lose any of their culture with these changes I've been inspiring.”

“
That's good to hear,” Fenrir sat back with a look of satisfaction, “because there are some things we Froekn just can't change.”

Chapter Twelve

What a difference perspective could make. There I was, back at the Froekn fighting pit, but I was seated dead center, high above where the fighting would take place, in my Rouva throne. I felt like a Roman Princess waiting to watch a gladiatorial event. Except I doubt that a Roman Princess would have a knotted stomach over the fates of the gladiators.

Admittedly, the view was much better from above than below, and I was pretty damn comfortable in the plush throne. With wine close at hand along with a tray of nibblies, it was positively hedonistic. Unfortunately, my comfort was tempered by Samantha's worried expression and her restless hands, which seemed unable to stop wringing the fabric of her dress. She was seated beside me in a position of honor since it was her man who was about to be down in that pit.

“He'll be fine,” I handed her a glass of wine. “You know this is the best way.”

“
I know,” she nodded, “and I'm so proud of him but I've never loved anyone like this and I can't stop thinking that maybe it's too good to be true. Chances are that something is going to fuck up my happiness.”

“
Actually,” I smiled wryly, thinking that there was a reason we were friends. We both had a tendency to be horrible pessimists. “I'd say the chances are fairly good that Fallon will get his ass handed to him, heal quickly, be accepted into the Froekn, and that the two of you will live happily ever after. A god damn furry fairytale.”

“
You have your own furry fairytale going on,” she looked at me sharply. Damn it, had some of my jealousy leaked out in my voice?

“
I know and I'm thankful for the men in my life,” I raised my glass. “To magic men, may they never loose their power over us.”

“
And may we never loose our power over them,” she grinned and clinked my glass.

“
Here, here,” I agreed before I drank deep.

What was my problem anyway? I bit my lip as I looked down into the empty pit. The grooves clawed into the floor by centuries of fighting looked like mere scratches from where I sat. Their implied menace was softened by distance. It became a background to my swirling thoughts instead of a manipulator of them. In fact, my thoughts were more focused on what would happen after the fight. Fallon's entry to the Froekn, his wedding to Samantha.

I was brooding again, over things I'd never have, and it was so unlike me. I tried not to focus on the impossible. It's better to think about what is possible. My brain was refusing to cooperate with the program though and all I could think about was how I'd missed my chance with Trevor. He'd proposed and I'd said no. Logically, it was fortuitous that we hadn't married. If I'd been married to Trevor, I couldn't have formed a relationship with any of my other lovers and that would have had serious repercussions. No, my life was exactly where is was meant to be and some silly, childish idea of a wedding and marriage to just one man, was holding me back from enjoying the happiness I had.

Marriage to one man. Hold the presses. Why couldn't I marry one or even all of them? Mormons did it all the time. It's not like we'd have to register with the state or anything. It would just be for us, between us, vows made because we loved each other and wanted to show our commitment. I could have my white wedding on my own terms.

I sat up straighter, supremely satisfied in my new possible future. It didn't have to happen anytime soon. Maybe it would never happen but the thought that it
could
if we wanted it to, made a huge difference. I looked over to where Kirill stood, guarding the entrance to our balcony, and smiled. He gave me a wary smile back and I laughed a little. What would it be like to walk up the aisle toward him? Or to Trevor, Odin, or even my angel. Imagine that. The wedding march playing as I glided gracefully, okay carefully walked as I tried not to trip, through the pews of a huge church while the Angel of Death waited with folded black wings at the altar. We could even invite Jesus. Hell, he could perform the ceremony.

I took another sip of my wine before I lost it and started giggling. Highly inappropriate given the circumstances. Then Trevor and Fenrir came over and took their seats, followed by UnnúlfR and Ty. UnnúlfR was surprisingly polite to Samantha. They'd dated and it had ended badly. When Sam started playing the field again, with a human no less, UnnúlfR had a fit. To see him patting her shoulder sympathetically threw me for a loop.

“What's up with that?” I whispered to Trevor as he took a seat between me and Samantha. I nodded my head toward UnnúlfR, who was leaning in to whisper something to Sam.

“
I know,” Trevor shrugged. “He's been different ever since the battle with Andrasta.”

“
Ah,” I nodded. Suddenly it made sense.

Andrasta was UnnúlfR's ex and talk about ending it badly, she had betrayed him and the entire Froekn to another god who was hunting them like animals. Then the bitch had the nerve to show up, fighting beside our enemies. UnnúlfR swears he killed her but I wasn't convinced. There wasn't a body, she just kind of fell back and disappeared into a dark fog. Typical goddess. Suffice it to say, UnnúlfR was distraught.

Fenrir stood and everyone quieted. I saw Fallon enter the pit, looking fit and ready in a pair of old sweatpants. I wasn't surprised. He'd lose those pants as soon as he shifted. The Froekn knew it too and I could feel a thread of excitement weave its way through the crowd. The last fight they'd seen was with me and I didn't have the ability to shift back then. I'd appealed to them a little with the use of my wolverine gloves but I knew it wasn't the same as seeing someone shift.

I began to really consider Fallon's chances of winning the fight, as Fenrir addressed the Froekn. Part of me heard Fenrir's speech about the reason for the fight and how it would not be to the death, how they were testing the worth of a potential mate but that this person was already practically family and the Froekn did not kill their own. The other part of me was weighing the options, literally.

An adult lion can weigh anywhere from 450 to 600 pounds. Having seen Fallon in lion form, I knew he was closer to the high end of that scale. I didn't know which of the Froekn he'd be fighting exactly but I did know that the largest wolf ever found was around 165 pounds, your average wolf weighed in around a mere 100 pounds. I may have told the boys that they were nothing against trained fighters but there was something to be said for brute strength and mass.

I heard the howling and knew I'd missed Fenrir's shout to begin. Below us, Fallon shifted into a massive lion and the Froekn howled even louder. Then his opponent came into view and my hopes for him were dampened. Of course, I'd forgotten about the werewolf half-form. Fallon was fighting a Froekn in werewolf form, half man/half wolf. The Froekn stood close to seven feet tall, with muscles bulging beneath thick fur. Impressive, even without the monster movie claws and teeth. All Fallon had was what a natural lion was gifted with.

Neither fighter hesitated though. The werewolf ran forward as Fallon made a beautiful leap for his opponent's neck. Claws met fur, teeth found flesh, and I couldn't tell who had the upper hand. Even after they pulled back and I could take in the gaping wounds, I wasn't sure who had taken worse blows. They circled each other and leapt again, growls and blood breaking free even as they retained a hold on each other.

It seemed to go on forever and I was faced with a horrible epiphany. This is what Thor had gone through, what Trevor and all of my friends had to feel every time they sat on the sidelines and watched me fight. Or even worse, when they sat at home, wondering and waiting, without anything to do to bring me back. I'd always thought I had it worst, that no matter how frustrating the wait could be, at least they didn't have to go through the fight, or be tortured. They didn't have to feel the pain.

Sitting there, watching Fallon fight, my opinion was beginning to change. It's hard to be the one down there in the pit, facing down death. Hard to be chained to a wall, getting whipped, or on a table, mere meat for an empty belly, but at least in the pit or even in chains, you're there in the middle of it. You can affect your future, you have the chance to act. To sit and watch helplessly is its own kind of hell.

I stood up and went to Samantha, taking her hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze. She gave me a quick grateful glance before returning her attention to the fight. I didn't envy her then. Even though we knew Fallon wouldn't be killed on purpose, there was always the possibility of an accident when the fighting was so violent. Her hand twitched in mine as Fallon took a particularly vicious blow.

Then the Froekn went flying, hitting the ground with a thud and staying there. Fallon had won. My jaw went slack and Samantha's hand fell from mine. Cheering and howling filled the air as Fallon shifted back to human form, healing all his wounds in the process. Well at least he had that. He'd go into the next fight whole, if not fully rested. I had to carry my wounds into each progressive battle when I'd been down there.

Before Fallon could celebrate his win, the downed Froekn was carried from the pit and a new opponent walked out. This time he was in human form, so I was able to recognize the wolf. It was Jace, a bartender at Moonshine. It hit me double then. After seeing what Fallon was capable of, I was worried for both of them. Fallon was like my brother, I was tied to him and felt responsible for him but Jace was family too.

They both shifted, Jace taking full wolf form, and they started circling each other. Fallon padded quietly around but Jace was growling, snarling, baring his teeth in aggression. Fallon looked huge next to the wolf and I really thought there would be no contest if Jace continued in wolf form. Fallon charged him suddenly but when he got to where Jace had been standing, Jace was gone, leaping across the pit in seconds.

The entire Froekn family was on their feet, watching avidly as Jace sprang about the pit, nipping at Fallon as if testing his reach. Fallon finally got tired of this and reached out a paw, catching Jace mid-leap. Jace gave a shrill whimper and hit the ground, going limp. I knew, as soon as Fallon started heading toward the fallen wolf, that it was a ploy. Froekn just didn't go down that easily. I almost shouted a warning but I knew it wasn't fair to either of the men and so I kept my mouth shut.

It was hard though, watching Fallon creep up and nudge Jace, knowing that at any moment Jace would turn the tables on him. I shouldn't have underestimated Fallon though. When Jace did finally leap up and go for Fallon with teeth bared, Fallon did something completely un-lion-like and head-butted Jace.

The smaller animal fell back, stunned. Fallon went in for the advantage, placing one heavy paw on Jace's body and one on his throat. A small whimper from Jace seemed to indicate to the rest of the Froekn that he was bowing out.

Fallon lifted his weight and Jace got up sprightly and shifted back into a very naked man. Not to be outdone, Fallon shifted into glorious nudity as well and the men shook hands with huge grins. I shook my head and looked down at Samantha as if she might be able to explain it. She just huffed and shook her head back at me. I gripped her shoulder once in sympathy and headed back to my seat. Sam should be able to deal with the last fight without the hand holding.

I sat back with a sigh. Maybe we'd actually make it through this trial with everyone in one piece. Down below, a final opponent was entering the pit. I jerked up straight, my jaw dropping before I looked around me to be certain. Sure enough, UnnúlfR was gone. Because he was down in the pit in werewolf form. The only reason I even identified him was because I'd fought him myself.

“Fenrir,” I turned to him but he held up a hand to stop my tirade.