Underland(60)

Where the vampire’s kiss burned with pain, the zombie’s kiss bathed her with warmth. Her skin stretched and her muscles pulled as they slowly healed. She felt strong, invincible and exhilarated. She wrapped her arms around Zeke to pull him closer, but he yanked himself out of her arms and flung himself across the room.

Blood, his blood had made a trail on her shirt. He’d nicked himself on her knife. His eyes were flashing white, and he was panting. Kira watched the mirror across the hall—her neck healed before her eyes. Zombies had regenerative abilities, but she’d never imagined he could heal her with his own kiss. Was it because he tasted her blood?

Zeke had curled up into a ball, groaning like he was in pain. “Zeke,” She ran to him.

“Go away before I do much worse to you than the vampire.”

“No, I won’t leave you.” She kneeled next to him and lifted his head, so that his flashing eyes stared directly into her soul. “You saved my life. I owe you.”

“I didn’t save it just to take it from you,” he whispered. “I needed your blood to heal you. Healing makes me hungry. I need to feed and you’re too close.”

“Oh!” Of course he did. Here she was tempting him with herself.

“Go! Go away. Please, I’ll find you later, but leave me before I do something I regret.”

She wanted to, she did. But she couldn’t just leave him there in such misery.

“Go AWAY!” Zeke growled and pushed her away so hard she flew backwards and hit the wall.

Her back hurt. She looked up at Zeke’s horrified expression.

She was furious—but not at him. She was angry at herself, for what she had let herself get duped into. She wanted revenge and, right now, with Zeke’s healing ability flowing through her, she felt like she could take on the world.

Even a vampire.

Heck, that’s what they were here for. A fight. Well, she was going to give it to them.

Ready to destroy Olivier, she turned back out toward the large room. Whoa. While she was under the vampire’s thrall and then healing, the room had been transformed. She’d had no idea.

The music was still just as loud, but now the DJ was announcing the fights. A keg had been placed in the middle of the dance floor. No one stepped onto the wooden square, but bodies were pressed almost up to the edges.

She stayed on the outskirts and watched as the first challenger stepped into the makeshift ring. A man with a mohawk, a leather vest, and black pants raised his arms, and a cheer came from the crowd. He strutted around the floor, taunting challengers. Whenever he leaned back, a plume of fire and smoke blasted from his mouth. She watched as his skin rippled—scales underneath.

Dragon.

His challenger was a man whose metal skin reflected the lights, creating a liquid metal look. Kira watched the huge wall-mounted TV screens light up with bets as people made wagers from their bands. Den’s name appeared at the top of the screen. He’d placed a large sum of money on the dragon.

A bright orb floated down from the rafters and a spear appeared on the keg. Whoa. Who had the power to conjure items? This event had a different feel than the others. More personal.

And perfect for getting revenge.

Kira stalked the floor, hunting her prey. Beside her, the battle ensued between the dragon and metal man. She couldn’t help but think of a knight fighting a dragon. Legends had been born from this kind of epic battle, and it was now worthy of a mere bar brawl. Maybe because it was always obvious that the knight would win.

“Boo!” The monster next to her yelled, and she heard the two fighters clash. The dragon roared in pain.

“Finish him!” another called out.

She moved on, walking on her toes to catch a glimpse of Olivier.

An uncontrolled blast of fire spewed across the crowd a mere foot from where Kira had just stood. Her back warm, she turned and saw that nothing but ash remained of the loud bystander who’d taunted the dragon.

By now, fear would have kicked in to a normal girl, but Kira realized in that moment, she’d never been like most girls. Didn’t care about hair or clothes. She cared about honor and respect, and both of those had been stolen from her tonight.

There he was. Olivier watched the ongoing battle with delight. His eyes burned red with power, probably because he had just fed…on her.

A loud, anguished roar filled the air, quickly drowned out by the loud cheers of the winners and the hiss of the losers.

The ring was cleared, and another challenger was called the floor. She hadn’t even seen who won.

Olivier strutted onto the floor, and she heard a collective boo from the crowd. Not a crowd favorite then.

The werewolf next to her started to growl, and he moved forward to challenge the vampire. Kira grabbed his arm. Powerful muscle ripple through his arm—he almost shook her off. He snapped at her, but she pulled at her bloody shoulder to show him the scar on her neck.

“I have unfinished business with the vamp. Do you mind?”

The werewolf eyed her, surprised. “He’ll just mind roll you again.” He gave her a cursory sniff and paused, his hackles rising. “I smell blood. Hmm…not yours…dead man’s blood.” He touched the still-wet trail of Zeke’s blood on her shirt.

“If I fail, then you can have your chance after me.”

He nodded.

Kira rushed onto the floor and felt a moment of satisfaction to see Olivier’s shocked expression.