Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)(24)

The others laughed and poked more fun.

“They’re upset we’re ignoring them.” Hasani stated the obvious.

“I’m done ignoring them.”

“But, Tariq, your back—”

“Is fine. Stay here. This could be a trap.” The other pantheons liked to test each other’s mettle. While Tariq understood, he wouldn’t tolerate anyone screwing with his territory. Time to kick the Greeks back to a neutral land closer to their own base. A few broken bones might do the trick.

Hasani tugged on his arm. “Let me help. I’ll get Chig to keep watch. You don’t look so good and—”

Tariq straightened, cracked his knuckles, and felt his strength continue to return, his zest for the fight entrancing. He’d been born a warrior. He’d die a warrior, but not today. And not at the hands of some dickhead centaurs. “Quit whining, or when I’m done with them, I’ll do you.”

“Promises, promises.” Hasani blew him a kiss, and Tariq laughed for the first time that day.

“Hey, what’s up?” called a voice from behind them. Chig must have been alerted to the movement outside their building. He came abreast of them, and the three of them watched the Greeks preparing to fight.

“Stay here, both of you,” Tariq ordered.

“That’s not fair.” Hasani frowned. “When do I get to crack some skulls?”

“Damn, T. Nice back.” Chig shook his head. “Set again?”

“What do you think?” Hasani sighed.

Tariq didn’t wait around. He crossed into neutral territory, ignoring the godlines invisible to mortals but which he and every player in the game could see. He felt the shiver of warning reverberate through his body but ignored it and headed straight for the Greeks. Yeah, fighting on neutral ground could get him in a mess of trouble. He didn’t care.

Especially since the Greeks didn’t look so confident anymore. Probably thought that like them, he was too much a * to engage. Fuck the boundaries and the rules. He was tired of being kicked around. Time to show that as long as he had breath, he had a fight in him waiting to get out.

He watched them straighten, ready to face him, and remembered Set’s glee in the chamber. Recalled the softness of the woman’s skin, the vague emptiness in her smile he could feel even as he tried to love her with a heart he didn’t have. His fury doubled.

“Oh look, Minos. The big one wants to get schooled. Time to play, pretty boy.”

“Must be centaurs,” Tariq rumbled as he drew close. “’Cause normal shit can’t talk. And really, guys, you sticking with the leather? Why not just f*ck each other in public instead of hinting about what you like behind closed doors?” He shook his head. “You guys are so sad. All talk and no action. Hung like trick ponies too, I’ll bet.”

The Greeks were notorious homophobes, and nothing annoyed them more than questions about their masculinity. Personally, Tariq had always favored females for sexual companionship, but when pickings grew slim, he made do with whoever gave him pleasure. Hell, half his team slept with the other half on a daily basis, and none of them gave a fig about what others thought. In the end, all that really mattered was the weight of man’s heart…and the hope Set wasn’t around when you died.

With a fire in his blood, Tariq charged the aggravating Greeks. He lashed out with fists and kicks, a lethal combination of fast, well-placed strikes while he used his opponents’ force against them. Rolling with punches, returning blows with vigor. He wanted to toy with them, to let them know he could end them if he wished.

“I’ve got ten says you break at least one guy’s arm,” Chig called out.

Tariq broke one Greek’s arm and another’s leg.

“Thanks!”

“Shit,” Hasani swore. “Double or nothing on a few noses.”

Tariq knocked the third man out cold and waited for the fourth to recover from a blow to the head. It didn’t feel exactly sporting to kick such easy ass, but it did feel good.

“Well? Come on, boy.” Tariq wiped a trickle of blood from his brow. The one with the broken arm had gotten in a lucky punch before he went down. Bastard.

“You win.” The remaining Greek confessed his defeat.

Hasani yelled, “Nice, Tariq. Now kick his ass some more.”

Just what he’d been thinking. Tariq smiled, and the Greek before him paled.

He started to draw back for another punch when a dozen more Greeks rolled up on bikes. The local police considered the pantheon players a rogue band of combative street thugs. Tariq and his team went by the name of the Jackals. A little more creative than the Greeks. He snorted, noting none of them looked pleased at the carnage on the sidewalk.

“You there. Step away from my comrade.” The leader, apparently, moved closer on a jacked-up Harley.

“Fuck off.” Tariq flexed, punched the idiot in front of him before he could move, then watched as said idiot fell to the ground, unconscious. “And take your choir boys with you.”

The leader’s face tightened, and the men behind him swore with displeasure loud enough to rival their bikes.

Tariq was aware of Chig and Hasani crossing into the neutral zone to join him, while Asim, Manu, and Mbizi appeared at the door to keep watch.

The Greeks stopped in the middle of the street, shut down their bikes, and started to dismount.