The Mage in Black (Sabina Kane #2)

The Mage in Black (Sabina Kane #2) Page 20

“Nothing,” he said, but obviously he was reading into the exchange I’d just had with my sister.

I was just fine with him holding his tongue. With that one little “good luck,” it felt like the tide shifted. I could feel the pull of the vortex, sucking me further into mage life. Every day I got more and more involved, whether I liked it or not. But I preferred to fool myself for a little longer. At least until I understood the situation a bit more. Soon enough, the day would come when the mages would force my hand and demand I openly declare my support.

“Anyway.” I changed the subject. “You were talking about the bureaucracy in Irkalla?”

He smiled knowingly but went with the non sequitur. “Oh, yeah, demons love the red tape. If they could, they’d make you wait for fifty forms in triplicate just for permission to take a crap.”

He continued to dissect demon social structure as we made our way back to Maisie’s apartment. I only half listened. In the back of my mind, I considered what would happen if the council voted for war. And as hard as I tried, I couldn’t imagine anything positive about that outcome.

The next night I pushed my way through the crowd gathered in Vein’s underbelly. My elbows put me at the receiving end of some insults and shoves, but I forged ahead.

Giguhl stood on one side of the pit where I’d fought Michael Romulus a few nights earlier. His scaly green chest glistened under the single lightbulb hanging from the concrete ceiling. The light illuminated the determination in his goat eyes.

I glanced to my left and saw his opponent, a smaller demon with a bat’s face and a barbarian’s body. As I watched, he spread his arms wide and emitted a high-pitched screech. I cringed and covered my ears, but everyone else went wild.

Giguhl spat in the corner, seeming unaffected by the other demon’s showboating. It was a macho side of Giguhl I’d never seen before. As far as I could tell, the fight was just about to begin.

“Oh, hell, no!” I yelled over the noise. I started pushing my way to the right, trying to reach my demon. I’d agreed to this, and even made the call to Slade to set it up, but now, watching the wild crowd and the murder in the bat demon’s eyes, I changed my mind.

“Giguhl!” I had to yell to be heard over those who felt the need to scream advice at my demon. “Giguhl!”

His head turned and he saw me. A huge smile spread over his face. “Sabina!”

I grabbed his green biceps and pulled him toward me. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think you should fight.”

Giguhl snorted and gave me a friendly nudge. “Sabina, get real. I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“No, you’re not.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

I paused, trying to figure that out for myself. “Because,” I said finally.

Giguhl laughed. “Ah, you’re worried about me.”

“Am not,” I muttered.

Slade made his way through the crowd to my side. I’d managed to avoid him since we got to the bar, but now he butted in. “What’s going on?”

“He’s not allowed to fight,” I said.

Slade frowned and shook his head. “Once a challenge has been issued, the fight must proceed. It’s the third rule of Demon Fight Club.”

“Fuck the rules. He’s my demon, and I revoke permission to fight.”

“This is so embarrassing,” Giguhl said. “Stop acting like my mother.”

“What if you get hurt?”

“Sabina, I’m a five-hundred-year-old, grown-ass demon. The neighborhood I come from in Irkalla makes prison look like preschool. You think I can’t defeat a freaking Defiler demon?”

My cheeks flamed under the weight of two male stares. Of course Giguhl could hold his own. To question his ability to fight was an insult. I sighed. “Fine, but you better kick his ass. I’m not playing nursemaid if you get hurt.”

Giguhl smiled like the Cheshire cat. “Just sit back and watch the master at work.”

Confident the fight would go on, Slade walked to the center of the pit and held his hands up for silence. The crowd obeyed immediately.

“It is time to review the rules of Demon Fight Club. Rule number one?”

Everyone yelled, “You do not talk about Demon Fight Club!”

My mouth fell open. Was Slade for real with this shit?

“Two!”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess…”

The crowd shouted, “You do NOT talk about Demon Fight Club!”

“Excellent!” Slade nodded approvingly without a trace of irony. “Now for the rest. Number three: Once a challenge has been issued, the fight must proceed.” He paused to shoot me a look. My jaw clenched as I glared at him, but the unoriginal bastard wasn’t done. “Four: Only two demons to a fight. Five: No weapons, magical or mundane.”

I glanced at Giguhl. That rule must explain the brass collar around his neck. Brass dulls magic, so if a demon tried to use a spell against an opponent they’d be shit out of luck.

“Six: Once a fight begins,” Slade continued, “it must continue until someone begs for mercy.”

He paused again. The tension in the room grew, and I knew I wasn’t going to like rule number seven.

“And rule number seven is?” he said finally.

“No mercy!” The crowd really let loose then. All around, money exchanged hands as mages, vamps, and fae placed bets on the outcome. Looked like the crowd was favoring Bat Face in three-to-one odds.

Out of nowhere, the bell rang. My heart skipped a beat, and I grabbed Giguhl by the biceps.

“Giguhl, it’s not too late to back out.”

He looked down at me. “You heard the rules, Sabina. Now watch and learn.”

With that, he jogged to the center of the ring to meet his foe. He bobbed and weaved as he went, like a demonic Rocky Balboa. I just prayed the Defiler demon’s dirty appearance wasn’t an indication of his fighting style.

The Defiler demon came out of the corner like an angry bull, heading straight for Giguhl’s midsection. Surprisingly agile given his size, Giguhl jumped out of the way. The Defiler’s momentum carried him right past and straight into the crowd, toppling a few mancies in the process. Giguhl threw his arms in the air and jogged in place, much to the crowd’s delight. He ate up their attention, which, unfortunately, distracted him from his opponent.

“Giguhl, watch out!” I yelled. He didn’t turn around in time to get out of the Defiler’s way and ended up being knocked back twenty feet. The crowd finally caught on to the danger of being so close to the action. Everyone backed up a few steps, widening the circle.

The impact didn’t faze Giguhl. He jumped up with a cocky smile. The Defiler responded with a lightning-fast volley of punches and kicks. The force of the attack knocked Giguhl to the ground. This time he rose more slowly. A stream of black blood dripped from his mouth.

“Fuck.” I started to move in, regretting my decision to allow Giguhl to go through with this. Then I realized he’d never forgive me if I interfered. Demons and their fragile egos. So, I clenched my fists and settled for yelling advice to my demon.

“Go for the ’nads!”

“The eyes! The eyes!”

“No! You’ve got to keep your hands up!”

I felt someone’s eyes on me. Looking around, I found Slade standing on the other side of the ring staring at me. He held my gaze for a moment, but the sickening sound of fist meeting flesh brought my attention back to the action.

Giguhl’s lip swelled to the size of a roll of quarters and blood oozed down his chin. The Defiler came at him with another furious round of punches to Giguhl’s midsection. The noise from the crowd was deafening, but I could have sworn I heard a couple of ribs crack.

I stepped forward, ready to put an end to the slaughter, but stopped when a terrified shriek ripped through the arena. The hair on my neck bristled at the bone-chilling sound. Somehow, Giguhl suddenly had the Defiler facedown on the ground. One black claw held the beast’s face to the floor, and the other pulled one of its arms back so far the joint popped out of its socket.

“Yes!” I yelled.

Giguhl dropped the arm, which plopped to the ground like a piece of meat. Changing tactics, he pulled the Defiler’s face off the ground by its oily black hair. With his other claw, Giguhl swiped at the demon’s face, leaving streaks of blood pouring onto the concrete.

Despite my relief over Giguhl gaining the upper hand, I felt unsettled. I’m certainly no stranger to violence, but his savagery surprised even me. Over the bloody scene on the floor, Slade caught my eye again. His amused smile made me feel nauseous. I wanted Giguhl to win, but I couldn’t reconcile this bloodthirsty fighter with the demon who would curl up next to me in cat form.

“Mercy!” The single word caused everyone in the room to gasp. It had come from the Defiler, who was now missing a nose. One of his eyes had rolled across the floor and landed near Slade’s feet. He kicked it aside as he came into the ring.

He lifted Giguhl’s arm in the air. “The winner is Giguhl!”

The crowd went wild again, chanting his name. “Gi-guhl, Gi-guhl!”

Slade waved his hands for silence. The room went silent except for the pitiful whimpers of the Defiler.

“Rule number seven?”

“No mercy!”

“So shall it be!” Slade slapped Giguhl on the back and gestured to a mage standing off to the right. The mage was a short, balding male with greasy black hair. He scowled and trudged into the ring to stand over the demon.

The Defiler begged for mercy, but the mage refused to look down at his demon. Instead, he performed a complex series of glyphs in the air before chanting the words to send the demon back to Irkalla. The Defiler disappeared, leaving a pool of black blood on the concrete.

Giguhl glanced at me with a huge smile. I tried to smile back, but the whole thing didn’t sit well with me.