The Darkest Surrender (15 page)

Made him wish Kaia had opted to cheer her team to victory rather than fight. In that getup, she’d look better than a heart attack waiting to happen. She’d kill him on the spot.

No, he was glad she’d chosen to fight. He planned to use the needed separation from her to spy on the Eagleshields, maybe search their belongings. In fact, as soon as Tag began, he was out of here. And he wouldn’t feel guilty about that. Every man for himself.

What if Kaia’s hurt?
By her own admission, she would be throwing down with “prison rules.”

A flash of red in his eyes, his fingers clenching on his legs. Kaia was a damn good fighter, he reminded himself. If he trusted anyone on her team to succeed, it was her.

“Lysander!” Bianka called again. “Look up, baby. I’m over here!”

“There are too many. I can’t find—Bianka?” Lysander’s jaw dropped.

Guess he hadn’t seen her since they’d left the heavens. Then, she had worn a scarlet robe.

“Lysander, did you see this?” Bianka turned and lifted
her shirt, showing him—and everyone else—the panties she wore. They were neon-green with the words
Property of Lysandy
scripted across the ass.

Lysander stood, as if to fly over to her, then caught himself and plopped back down. “Sweet Deity.”

“Your woman wears underwear out in public,” Sabin said. “Must be nice. How’d you manage that little miracle?”

“Only the Deity knows.”

Great. Now Strider couldn’t stop wondering about Kaia. What kind of panties did she—or did she not—wear?

The girl beside Bianka must have complained about the high-pitched tenor of her voice, because Bianka’s grin faded and she leveled the girl with a scowl. An argument ensued. Then, of course, the two leapt at each other in a tangle of flailing limbs.

“She is magnificent, isn’t she?” Lysander asked no one in particular.

“Sure,” Sabin said, distracted now. He was stroking the bullhorn at his feet. “So where are
our
girls?”

Our girls. Strider liked the sound of that. He shouldn’t like the sound of that. “Don’t know.”

Do you truly think Kaia can bring home the victory?

The insidious voice filled Strider’s head. Male. Familiar.

She might be killed…

Oh, hell, no. “Sabin,” he growled. This time, he didn’t have to wonder about the speaker. As the keeper of Doubt, Sabin fed off the insecurities of those around him.

“Sorry,” his leader replied.

“Get your demon under control.”

“Believe me, I’m trying. I don’t want him going after anyone on Team Kaia.”

Win. She must win.

And there was Strider’s demon, who—wait just a sec.
She
must win? Defeat had never cared about a victory other than Strider’s before. Why Kaia? Why now? Because her triumph was (perhaps) linked to the Paring Rod? Because the demon knew—and feared—the consequences of her failure? Because, she was…his? Their personal playground? He’d wondered before…

Can’t think like that.
He wouldn’t do what needed doing.

To Defeat, he said,
First, I plan to obtain the Paring Rod before the games end. Second, she’ll win.
If she didn’t…he speculated about the likelihood of Defeat hurting him, even though the loss was not his own. Strider wouldn’t have protected her, as the challenge he’d already accepted demanded. So…

Likelihood high, he decided. He should have talked her out of this. Whatever happened next was his fault.

For once the prospect of the pain he might suffer held no sway. He simply didn’t like the thought of
Kaia
being harmed.

“Lysander!” Bianka called, once again drawing Strider’s notice. Her fight with the other Harpy had ended with the poor woman draped over the back of the bleachers, unconscious. “Did you like them or what?”

Lysander’s expression softened. “I did, my love. I liked them. I like everything you wear.”

Pathetic, Strider thought. Just because a guy was in love didn’t mean he had to pussy up.

Oh, look, there was Kaia! Strider jumped to his feet, waving at her to get her attention. He planned to tell her to be careful, but she was too focused on the happenings in front of her as she strode from the double doors leading into the gym. Her teammates flanked her sides. They wore matching uniforms of bloodred leather, the half tops crisscrossing in back to reveal their wings, the shorts fringed at the hem to allow for easier movements.

Kaia’s red curls were pulled back in a ponytail that
swung left and right. No elbow or kneepads safeguarded her. Damn it, he wished she’d worn pads. If the girls fought on that planked floor, they were going to lose some skin, and he liked her skin how it was.

Win!

I know. I heard you the first time, asshole.

The Harpies in the stands noticed the incoming team and started booing. A frown pulled at Kaia’s lips, but she gave no other indication that she cared. Popcorn rained down, showering them, a few kernels even popping members of Team Kaia in the eye.

“Hey, Millicent,” Bianka screamed down at one of the popcorn launchers. “I see you’ve set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public. Your aim sucks!”

A pretty blonde whipped around, hands fisted on her hips. “Hey, there, twin-half number one. Or is it two? I can never remember. You’re both just too insignificant. If I throw a stick, will you leave to fetch it?”

“I am not a dog, you bitch.” Bianka propped her hands on her hips. “At least, your dad doesn’t think so. This morning he told me I’m the hottest chili pepper he’s ever had. You know, as I crawled out of his bed.”

There was an audible gasp among the crowd, and Strider could only blink. The “dad” thing was worthy of such horror?

“My father’s dead, you heartless mutt,” the one named Millicent gritted out.

“Oh,” Bianka said, her shoulder sagging. Then she brightened. “Your mom thinks I’m chili-pepper hot. She told me so this morning when I crawled out of her bed!”

The gasps turned to snickers. Millicent flew up the steps to tackle Bianka.
Ding, ding.
Another fight was on.

Strider found himself grinning. “Do you think she realizes what she just implied?”

“Yes,” Lysander said on a sigh.

“Fingers crossed she and the woman she’s pounding stop fighting and start kissing,” Sabin said. “That happens, and someone better cue the bow-chicka-wow-wow.”

Lysander straightened, clearly intrigued. “I see what you mean about engines being revved.”

Suddenly the Harpies who were booing erupted into deafening cheers, and Strider forgot everything else as he turned his head to find out why. His jaw clenched. Tabitha and her crew had just entered the court.

They wore half tops and fringed shorts, too, only theirs were blue. Then another team stalked in behind them, wearing purple. Another team in pink. Another team in yellow. Damn. How many teams were there? Another in green. Another in black.

His mouth dried up when he noticed that some of the women were bigger than he was. More muscled, taller, and hell, he would not have been surprised to see beans and franks. Although some of the contestants were as seemingly delicate as Kaia.

The women formed a large circle on the court, leaving the center empty. The one called Juliette, the brunette who’d run the orientation, stepped forward and held up her hands. Finally the crowd quieted.

“If you’re like me, you’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” she called, and had to stop when cheers once again rang out. Only when they faded did she add, “And so, let’s not waste a moment. First rule, you don’t talk about Tag. Second rule,
you don’t talk about Tag.
”

More cheers.

Grinning, Juliette said, “Just kidding. Now for the real rules. Only one member of each team is allowed in the ring at any given time. When that member wants out,” more boos rippled, faded, “all she has to do is tag one of her teammates. If she can reach one.”

Annnd
…even more cheers exploded through the gym.

“If someone is too injured to continue, she must tap out for good. But think carefully before you go that route, ladies, because even if you heal, you can’t go back in.”

“I didn’t pay to see cowards,” someone shouted.

Juliette nodded her agreement. “For those of you who have never before played this type of game, you should know that the competition doesn’t end until only one team remains. Here’s a hint—fight dirty.”

“Eagleshields are gonna kick ass,” someone else called.

Juliette’s grin acquired a dark, evil edge as she focused on Kaia. “Good luck, everyone. You’re going to need it.” With that, she strode off, disappearing from view as the contestants swallowed her up.

Kaia tossed Strider a quick glance. So. She’d known where he was, had been as aware of him as he was of her. He nodded in encouragement, even as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. The females surrounding Kaia were eyeing her like she was a juicy filet and they’d just ended a week-long fast. He should be down there, shielding her, not sitting up here, doing nothing.

“Don’t worry,” Sabin said, patting him on the back. “Gwen won’t let anything happen to her.”

“I’m not worried,” he gritted out. No way would he let Sabin, Doubt himself, have more confidence in his woman’s abilities than Strider had in his. Just no way. “
Kaia
will protect
Gwen.
”

Boss man blinked at him, incredulous. “You want to argue about that? Really?”

Yes, damn it, he did.

Win.

Always.
“Just shut the hell up and watch the game,” he said. “I’ll let you know before I head to the other side and start my spying.”

I
WILL NOT FAIL
. I
WILL
not fail. I will not freaking fail.
The mantra blazed through Kaia’s mind as she settled into position.

Neeka was the first in the “ring” for Team Kaia. Shoulders squared, head high, the girl strode to the center of the court, alongside the first from every other team. Soon, twelve Harpies stood there, facing off, waiting for the whistle to blow. The rest of the combatants waited on the sidelines like Kaia, crouched, one hand extended.

“We’ve got this,” Gwen muttered beside her.

“I know,” she said, glad there wasn’t a tremor in her voice. Strider was up in the stands, looking edible in a T-shirt with an ironed-on tie, and ripped jeans. The only glance she’d allowed herself had been a mistake. He was a distraction she couldn’t afford, but she’d had to assure herself that he was up there, that he hadn’t abandoned her. She only prayed he witnessed her victory, not her defeat.

I will not fail.
Too much was at stake. Her reputation. Strider’s respect. Hell, his life.

Not that he’d agreed to her terms. He’d never flat-out said he’d wait for her to win the Rod and keep his thieving hands to himself. She’d realized that only an hour ago as she’d prepared for Tag. She’d needed a distraction from her the-world-is-at-stake panic and had replayed her every conversation with Strider.

Was he planning to search for the Rod during the game?
Most likely. She wondered if he didn’t trust her to bring home the gold, or if he was simply too impatient to wait.

Don’t think about that now. Concentrate.

I will not fail.

“Wait till you see Neeka fight,” Taliyah said, almost…grinning? Surely not. Taliyah never grinned. Or scowled. Or yelled.

“If she’s so good, why’d her clan let her go?” Kaia asked.

“’Cause she’s deaf and they’re idiots. Plus, she was voted Most Likely to Go Off the Deep End and Kill Everyone Around Her.”

And she was now on Kaia’s side? “Sweet!”

The shrill screech of the whistle sounded, echoing from the walls and blasting Kaia’s ears.

Game on.

Immediately the girls in the center of the court leapt into action. Kaia stiffened, watching. They attacked each other, claws and fangs bared, and within seconds bodies were slamming into the wall of waiting onlookers. Blood sprayed, warm and rich. Her Harpy caught the coppery odor of it and squawked for a taste.

Calm, she would remain calm. The only people she could harm were the ones in the ring. Hurting anyone outside it would result in a disqualification. If her Harpy took over, she would hurt
everyone.

Each team could be disqualified from one event, and one event only, and still qualify for the grand prize. If that happened, though, you had to hope and pray you had a good showing at the other three events, earning at least third place each time, or you wouldn’t stand a chance.

An unholy shriek drew her attention, and she found herself concentrating on Neeka. The sweet-looking beauty…dear gods. Neeka jumped up and hovered over the battling girls Matrix-style, slow motion, arms outstretched, knees
drawn up, gaze quickly roving, taking stock, before picking her prey and dropping in a blink. She landed atop a wide set of shoulders, her hands wrapping around the attached head and twisting. Bone snapped, and the poor girl collapsed.

Ouch! Neck injuries were the worst.

Neeka grinned in satisfaction—just as a muscle-stacked brunette slammed into her, knocking her down. Neeka’s head cracked on the floor, blood quickly pooling around her. She was dazed, unable to rise, and her opponent used her unstable condition to her advantage, punching and punching and punching, fists raining like poisoned hail.

Shit. If Neeka were knocked unconscious, no one from Team Kaia would be able to enter the ring anytime soon. Or at all. They had to be tagged in.

Several others noticed that Neeka was down and swarmed her helpless, prone body, pummeling her senseless.

“Come on, Neeka!” Bianka shouted from the stands. Kaia would have recognized her twin’s beloved voice anywhere, amid any kind of noise. She only prayed Neeka could somehow discern the praise since she couldn’t hear it. “Show ’em your titanium balls!”

“Kill her!” someone else shouted. “And hack off those balls of hers!”

“How about I kill you instead, hater?” Bianka snapped back. Then there was the stomp of feet, a pained
hmph.

Kaia didn’t switch her attention, though she knew her twin had just attacked whoever had spoken.

Somehow, Neeka collected her wits. Bodies flew in every direction as she once again Matrixed over the combatants. This time she didn’t attack, but dove for Gwen, slapping their palms together.

Gwen darted into the ring, and Kaia breathed a sigh of relief. “Good job,” she said. She would’ve patted Neeka
on the back, but feared knocking the poor, shaking thing to her knees.

“They punched out a tooth!” Neeka slurred past cut, swollen lips.

“You’ll have a chance at revenge,” Taliyah assured her.

What Juliette hadn’t explained to the crowd was that every team member had to enter the fray at least three times. If someone failed to do so because they were, say, dead, that team was considered out, disqualified. And to be declared the winner, every member of your team had to be conscious by the final round.

Apparently, this particular game had been played at the last three bi-century competitions. Rumor was, Tag could churn on for days, but even then, there were no breaks allowed. Not to drink or heal or use the bathroom.

Rumor also was, the winner was sometimes declared simply by waiting to see who woke up first.

As the fight continued, other team members tagged in and out. Like the first group had done to Neeka, the new ones swarmed Gwen en masse. She was fast, though, dodging with the speed of a bullet.

“You can do it, baby!” Sabin’s proud voice boomed through the gym, louder than everyone else.

Bullhorn, Kaia thought.

The member of Team Skyhawk managed to grab Gwen’s arm as she passed, swinging her in the opposite direction. Gwen used the action to her advantage, knocking down several of her opponents bowling-ball style. Practically vibrating with the need to retaliate, the fallen jumped up and turned on her. When they realized who they had in their sights, they dove on her. For a moment, all Kaia could see was her sister’s flailing legs.

Sparks of rage heated Kaia. And guess who played dirty, leaping in there and going for Gwen’s wings? That
same member of Team Skyhawk. Worse, the bitch was laughing. The sparks grew…spread…

“Get off her!” Sabin shouted now. “Or I swear to the gods—there you go, baby! Yeah! That’s the way.”

Gwen roared with pain and rage as she kicked a few of the girls off her.

“That just happened,” Sabin blasted arrogantly.

Of course, the girls came back for more.

Kaia had never felt so helpless.

Another roar, and then Gwen was clawing her way out. Tension had whitened her face, making the blood splattered there stark and obscene in comparison. She managed to fight her way to the sidelines and tag Taliyah, who sprang in with a vengeance.

First person she attacked was her mother’s soldier, tossing the girl to the ground and grinding her face into the wooden planks.

“You okay?” Kaia asked Gwen.

“They…broke my…wing,” her sister panted.

Oh,
shit.
Kaia’s hopes plummeted, her body cooling down. A Harpy’s wings were the source of her strength. When those wings were disabled, she weakened unbearably. Gwen would have to go back in and fight at least two more times, but how effective would she be when she would hit and move as feebly as a human?

Before the question formed completely, Kaia had begun to strategize. They were warriors; they could deal. Gwen would go in a second time toward the end of the match, remaining in the ring for only a few seconds, and then tag out. Then, when every other team had been disabled, Gwen could go in for her third and final time. Boom, done. Easy.

Win.

Kaia blinked in astonishment. Okay, that hadn’t been
her
inner voice, but a man’s. Familiar, and yet…not. Only one person—or creature?—craved victory as much as she
did. Automatically, she looked up. Strider was no longer situated between the pale-faced Sabin and the stoic Lysander. He wasn’t in the stands at all.

Red flickered in her line of vision as she returned her attention to the battle. The wolves had descended on Taliyah in unison, pinning her in as they punched and kicked her to the ground. Only, they couldn’t hold her down. She was there, the center of their fury one moment, but gone the next, a cloud of black smoke in her place.

Confused, the combatants looked around. Another cloud of smoke appeared behind them, and Taliyah stepped from its center. She twisted, giving herself an unstoppable momentum, and lashed out. Heads banged together, and bodies fell.

When those who were standing realized what was happening, they once again descended on the tall, slender Taliyah. And once again, Kaia’s older sister disappeared in a cloud of smoke, reappearing elsewhere.

The same scene repeated itself over and over again. Taliyah was merciless, slashing and biting before dancing away. But the Harpies she felled soon made their way to their feet and tagged in another team member.

Like Kaia, the ones on the sidelines had been watching her, and they’d learned to anticipate her moves, to watch for the smoke. So the next time Taliyah appeared, they were waiting for her. A fist immediately met her jaw, propelling her backward. No one approached her, because they knew. And yep, when she righted herself, she disappeared as expected. Another fist met her jaw when she reappeared, once again sending her flying.

She shook her head, probably seeing stars. They didn’t jump her this time, either. They simply waited.

Taliyah’s ice-blue gaze sought Kaia.

My turn,
she thought, eagerly holding out her hand.
Come on.

Taliyah raced forward, enduring pummeling fists and jackhammering boots to reach—Neeka.

For a moment, Kaia stood frozen with shock. Then reality slammed into her like a strong right hook, and she snarled with affront. “What the hell, Tal!”

“Better this way,” was all her panting sister said.

What, her sis doubted her skills? Oh, that cut. “You know I have to go in three times.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be better if you go in at the end.”

When everyone was bruised and battered and at their weakest. Oh, that cut
deeper.
“Gwen’s wings are damaged.
She
needs to go in at the end, not me.”

“She will. She’ll just go in before you.”

This time, she wasn’t cut. She was destroyed. Her family loved her, yes, but like her mother—like Strider—they had no faith in her. “You’re not the leader of this team. You gave that right to
me.
”

“Do you see what they’re doing to us, baby sister? Warring teams are working together to destroy us. But you, you they’re going to try and massacre.”

“I know.” She raised her chin. “I’m prepared.”

Win.

There was that deep, raspy voice again. Not Strider, not his demon as she’d hoped. How could it be, when the warrior was nowhere to be seen? But…who did that leave?

Taliyah sighed. “All right. Fine. You want in next, you’ll go in next. But the loss will be on your shoulders.”

The loss. As if defeat was a given.

Tears burned Kaia’s eyes as she concentrated on the fight. The swelling in Neeka’s face had gone down, so her vision was no longer obscured. Still, every single one of her opponents knew she was deaf and opted to use the infirmity against her. They called out instructions to each other, outlining a demolition she couldn’t hear—or defend herself against.

“You take the left and I’ll take the right.”

“I’ve got middle.”

“I’ve got rear.”

Neeka lifted herself into the air.

“Grab her ankle!”

The girl in the middle did as commanded, swinging Neeka around and tossing her away from her teammates, ensuring there would be no tagging out. Breath gushed from her parted, bleeding lips when she landed. Someone was there, waiting, and kicked her in the stomach. She curled into a ball, trying to suck in a breath.

The red dotting Kaia’s gaze darkened to black. To her knowledge, opposing teams had never worked together before. That they were, that Kaia’s demise was the goal that united them…that they still hated her so much…she felt scraped raw inside.

She’d been a kid when she’d inadvertently destroyed their families, for gods’ sake.

Well, she wasn’t a kid anymore, and it was past time these women learned she wouldn’t lie down and take their shit. As her determination increased, the black dots wove together, nearly obscuring her vision completely, leaving only the haze of body heat.

Calm down before you forget where you are and what you can and cannot do.

Inhale deeply…exhale sharply… That didn’t help. Kaia pictured Strider, his fall of blond hair, those navy blue eyes, that wicked smile. Finally the black faded, and her sight returned to normal. She watched as Neeka battled her way from the midst of the violence and scrambled toward Taliyah.

As promised, her sister kept her hands at her sides. Kaia reached out and gently tapped Neeka’s obviously broken fingers. The girl collapsed on the sidelines as Kaia stepped into the ring. As one, everyone stilled and glared over at
her. They were bleeding, sweating, panting. And clearly, they’d been waiting for her.

“My sister died because of you.”

“I lost a daughter.”

“We never sought revenge against you out of respect for your mother, but she has at last disavowed you.”

No reaction. The burn started up in her chest again, but she willed it away. Locked it up tight. No going Harpy. Or whatever else. “Good. Now let’s see what I can do to each of you.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be
disappointed
in your skill.”

They chuckled, and her cheeks flushed. And then, as one, they turned and tagged in a new team member. She recognized the woman on her mother’s team. Had once trained with her.