Starfall (Starflight #2)(93)
If the crowd wanted blood, they would have it.
Once his vision returned, he signaled to Cutter, who ran ahead to the wall and then bent low, lacing his fingers together in a stirrup. Kane sprinted toward the man and stepped onto his linked hands. In flawless unison, Kane jumped and Cutter heaved, launching his body to the top of the wall, where he grabbed on and climbed over the top into the stands.
Shouts broke out as the spectators in his path tried to run, but there was nowhere for them to go. As he scaled the rows with supernatural speed, he grabbed an occasional collar and gave its owner a headfirst journey into the pit. His eyes locked on his targets in the luxury box, and he growled in delight. His boss had told him Do what feels right, and nothing in his life had ever felt more natural than this.
For the first time, he saw fear on Ari Zhang’s face, and it made his teeth ache to sink into the man’s throat. Vaguely, he noticed Belle speaking into a button affixed to her shirt, but he paid her no mind. At least not until she pulled a thick metal hairpin from her bun and jabbed it into the base of Necktie Fleece’s skull, dropping him instantly.
Kane stumbled in surprise, torn between admiration for the kill and anger that she’d stolen it from him. From behind he heard pistol fire, and then more screams from the spectators as they ducked to avoid being hit. He’d just reached the luxury box and hoisted himself inside when a laser pulse connected with his arm. He grinned. The pain didn’t even register. He snagged Nicky Malone by the shirtsleeve and jerked him forward.
Kane paused to savor the fear in the man’s eyes before grabbing him by the seat of his pants and throwing him like a rag doll into the pit. Then he stepped over the fallen body of Necktie Fleece and crept toward Zhang, who’d reached the far wall of the box and could go no farther. He was nearly within reach when, abruptly, every light inside the arena flickered and died.
Blackness surrounded him.
“Kane,” called a voice, and then gentle fingers probed his shoulder. He snatched the fingers and squeezed them, causing the voice to cry out in pain. “It’s me, Belle.”
He wanted to let go, but his hand didn’t seem willing to obey. The need for violence pumped through his veins, urging him to crush her bones. It took a long moment before he was able to relax his grip enough for her to slip free.
“That’s the signal,” she told him, barely audible over the shouts of the crowd. “Renny blew the shield and took out the electrical grid. We have to find the exit and meet him outside. It’s about to get ugly in here.”
“I can’t see.”
Cautiously, she touched his elbow. “That’s why I’m here. I lost an eye, but I gained an upgrade. Grab on to my shirt and follow me.”
He allowed her to lead him blindly down the aisle, but then he remembered Cutter in the pit. “My friend’s down there. I can’t leave him.”
“Don’t worry. The pirates know not to touch anyone in white.”
Pirates?
Kane glanced around, seeing nothing at first, until the guests seated near the exits opened the doors. Moonlight streamed inside as they shoved each other in a rush to escape. The dim lighting showed Cutter alive in the pit, surrounded by limp bodies. Kane waved at the man to get his attention, but it was no use. The arena was in chaos.
Frustrated, Kane returned his gaze to the exit. Energy coursed through him. He needed to move, needed to fight. He picked up Arabelle and swung her behind him, then growled as he plowed into the crowd of men ahead, throwing his fists and elbows and loving the contact of flesh against his knuckles. When the guests noticed who was behind them, they flung themselves out of his path, and he walked out the doors into the night.
He strode forward a few paces and froze.
If he’d thought the arena was in chaos, that was nothing compared with the havoc unfolding outside. Flames engulfed the long chain of suites hugging the coastline, forcing their guests into the open, where plainclothes men attacked them with stun grenades or bludgeoned them with clubs and pistol butts. Redshirts fired on the pirates, but it was no use. More of them kept coming as dozens of mismatched shuttles descended from the sky. In the center of the landing zone stood a tall, red-haired pirate with kohl-lined eyes, shouting orders to his men. Kane squinted and realized it was Doran, dressed like Daro the Red. Solara stood by his side, her face streaked with war paint and a rifle slung over her shoulder.
Arabelle tugged at Kane’s sleeve. “Listen, I know the enemy of our enemy is our friend, and all that, but I don’t like pirates. It’s best if we round everyone up and go.”
“Go?” he echoed, and then it struck him that the crew had come to take him away. That meant no more Gold. He would have to dry out again—for good this time. He shook her off and backed away. “No. I’m staying.”
Arabelle gaped at him through mismatched eyes, one blue, the other a prosthetic that glowed amber in the night. Then she tapped her com-link and muttered, “I need backup.”
Renny’s voice came from directly behind them. “I’ll take it from here.”
Before Kane could turn around, Renny grabbed him and pinned both his arms to his sides. Kane thrashed against the iron hold as his captain dragged him backward. He didn’t want to hurt Renny, but panic took over his body. In a burst of strength, Kane curled forward and sent Renny somersaulting into the air. Before the captain landed on the ground, Kane turned and bolted toward the ocean like his ass was on fire.