Ash (14 page)

I reached for my focus,
starting to jump on the balls of my feet to keep my muscles warm, like he’d
taught me.

He met my eyes and
nodded. “Charlie.”

I paused mid-jump; a
smile spread across my face. “You called me Charlie. What happened to number
forty-six?”

He shrugged. “I figured I
should probably be nice to you in case you die.”

I chuckled and smacked
his tight bicep. He returned my smile but then his face became serious. “Your
opponent is strong, but he fought yesterday, so he’s tired and still healing.”

My heart jackknifed in my
chest at this news. Opponent. Right. I was going to have to kill a person
today. Well, an ash really, but it was the same damn thing to me now.

I felt the blood drain
from my face when he reached down and produced the weapon my opponent’s sponsor
had chosen for me. It was a black case, which was open to reveal a set of five
small throwing stars. I lifted my gaze to Ryder.

“Are you fucking kidding
me? I couldn’t kill a cat with those.”

He grinned. “I know. That’s
why I told Lucas to assign the sword to your opponent. I want you to steal it from
him.”

My mouth dropped as the
air wheezed out of me in a huff. That was either a brilliant plan or the
stupidest thing I’d heard all week. So much of that relied on skills I probably
didn’t possess yet. I just really hoped Ryder knew what he was doing, and that
I didn’t let either of us down.

The next forty-five minutes passed in a
blur as Ryder made me practice stealing a weapon from him. We ran through about
ten different scenarios, depending on how my opponent reacted to our plan. I
felt about twelve percent more confident than before, so I was still pretty
much up shit creek sans paddle again.

I had about ten minutes
of rest time before the buzzer sounded, then it was my turn in the arena. Ryder,
gleaming with sweat, turned to face me. “Charlie…”

Charlie. The way he said
my name this time … like there were true emotions there, a sense of reverence.
He never usually spoke to me like that. I played with the hem of my shirt,
unsure of what to do or say. I mean, I had a lot of things to say to him and I
could be dead in the next few minutes, but I couldn’t find the right way to
express all of my thoughts. Emotion overcame me and tears welled in my eyes. They
weren’t tears of fear or pain though, they were angry tears. This wasn’t fair!
We were just normal human kids who had free-lovin’ mothers and now we had to
kill each other over it.

“This is bullshit!” I
pretty much shouted.

Ryder’s hands snaked out
and grabbed the sides of my face, cradling it as he brought me close to him,
resting his forehead on mine. “Life isn’t fair, Charlie.” His breath tickled my
nose; the delicious scents coming from him had me wanting to lean even closer,
to touch my lips to his. Of course that was when he pulled away a little.

“I’ve seen a small fire
smoldering inside of you since the day I brought you in. When those doors open,
I need you to unleash that fire. Your opponent already has death on his hands.
He won’t hesitate to do it again. You need to be ready, you need to fight to
survive.” 

His words roared through
me like the fire he spoke of. Ryder had reminded me of the most important thing.
It was simple math – the other ash or me. I nodded, relishing his warm hands on
me. He left them there for one short moment and then pulled back quickly, his
stoic façade falling back over his face. He tucked the throwing stars in my
waist belt and opened the double doors.

“You can do this,” was
all he said, before nudging me out and shutting the doors behind me.

And just like that, I was
in the culling arena.

I forced down the burn of
fear and bile as my eyes alighted on the spectators, their feet pounding on the
bleachers above. A vampire crossed the floor toward me. He was wearing the
official uniform of the judges, a flamboyant royal purple full-length silk robe,
with checkering of black and white.

He checked me over to
make sure I wasn’t holding any illegal weapons. I glanced across the room at my
opponent, who was in the middle of the same checks, and was a little surprised
to see it was one of the black-haired guys who had attacked Jayden and I
outside that day. Some of my fear left, replaced by anger again. Bastard. Maybe
this wouldn’t be as hard as I feared. After all, karma was a bitch. And so was
Charlie when she was cornered.  

Black-haired ash was holding
a samurai sword in an expert grip. I noted that his neck was bandaged, as was
his ankle. These were the weak spots. The judge vamps left the field then and
the fighter buzzer rang. I wasted no time sprinting toward him, prepared to
meet him head on. We were separated by fifty feet of open gym, a scattering of
low walls, hay bales and other shit to hide around was strewn about. It
reminded me of a paintball course and it changed between every fight. Some of
the floor was still lined with blue mats, other parts stone or cement.

I grabbed one of the
throwing stars from where Ryder had stashed them, palming it. I would hold on
to them until he was closer, especially since I had no clue how to throw them
accurately.

I hesitated, even as the
distance closed between us, and it wasn’t until we were about fifteen feet
apart, the black of his eyes reflecting the large spotlights above us, then I
chucked one. He dodged in a rapid movement and it sailed past his left
shoulder. Okay, I officially sucked at throwing shit. Why had we spent so much
time training with a sword? The other guy’s sponsor must have noted this, and
chosen something I had barely touched.

I focused. I couldn’t let
him get near me with that sword. I loaded two stars into my hands this time. When
he was ten feet from me – aggressively charging – I figured I couldn’t miss
him, and let them both go at the same time. One sailed right past but the other
sank into the side of his injured neck. Hell yeah, luck was on my side.

He faltered, his muffled
groan pain-filled as he stopped to rip the star free. Then, in the next moment,
he did as Ryder and I had hoped. As he pulled the star free – my stomach churned
at the chunk of flesh that went with it – he lowered his sword against his
side. I ignored the blood and flesh. I didn’t have time to deal with
squeamishness right now, this was my best chance to relieve him of his weapon.
I took the chance that he wouldn’t expect me to come at him so violently.

I booked it, closing the
gap between us, and before he could bring up the sword, I did my five step
combo. It was like breathing for me now, no thought, just pure remembered
instinct. My left hand flew out and sank into his jaw. I ignored the pain in my
knuckles as my right fist connected with his temple. I heard the sword drop,
but I didn’t allow it to break my concentration. Knee to his ribs and he keeled
over. Changing my routine, I improvised and pushed his shoulders, which were at
my stomach level, shoving him backwards.

Thank you, Ryder, for
drilling that boring-ass combo into my head. Who knew it would be so effective.

Dropping to the ground I
retrieved the sword and the crowd went wild. My opponent recovered quickly, his
dark eyes narrowing and fangs flashing as he spun himself on the ground. He was
faster than I expected, and used his position to kick out and trip me. I kept
my grip on the sword, knowing that if I lost it now I was as good as dead. I
stumbled forward, somehow managing to keep my balance. I then righted myself.
He flung his legs out, doing a kick up, and was suddenly standing before me. 

He dodged my first attack
with the blade. He was well trained, and definitely had spent time around
weapons. But something told me the sword wasn’t his first choice, just by the wary
glare he gave it.

Adrenalin was flooding
me, which was helpful in keeping the pure fear at bay. Fight to the death,
fight to the death. I kept repeating it over and over, trying to make myself
attack him again.

“You’re weak,” he spat, “and
I’m going to enjoy tearing you limb from limb.” He was confident as he started
circling me. But I had been sparring with Ryder for weeks now, and there was no
one scarier than him. This little punk was nothing.

I centered myself,
drawing on whatever ounce of badass was inside of me. The sword fit my hand
like it was made for it. Sword was definitely my weapon. I struck out at him, fast
and without any indication I was going to move. His eyes shuttered. Before he
recovered, I had already cut three long gashes into him, two on his right arm
and one on his left.

I slashed in a three-step
motion again, going for the softer kill zones. Throat, chest, gut.

He threw out an arm to
protect his throat and my weapon sunk into his bicep with a sickening sound and
I faltered. That was so much worse than the little cuts from before.

He took advantage of my
hesitation and threw a knee into my stomach.  The wind rushed out of me as I
keeled forward. I kept my grip on the sword, but wasn’t able to move before his
foot clipped my forehead, throwing me backward. I hit the ground hard, and as
his large form lunged over the top of me, I knew death was stalking me. Everything
moved in slow motion then – the snarl, the fangs, the blood of his wounds
raining across me. His hands were around my throat as he went in for the old
fashioned kill. I knew he was strong enough to snap my neck and possibly take
my head from my body. I felt the strength in his hands and limbs. But I was not
prepared to die here today.

My eyes flashed across to
the section where I knew Jayden and Ryder were sitting. Lucas was close by. All
three of them had believed in me; there was something special in my blood. I
was the first freakin’ female ash. I had to do this today. I had to be strong
enough.

A surge of strength shot
through me, despite the fact that I couldn’t breathe and dick ash was about
five seconds from killing me. I smashed up with my sword and at the same time bucked
violently managing to dislodge him a little. I shouldn’t have had so much reach
from my position, but somehow I rolled to the side, tucking the sword against
my body. Heat infused in my center, and I wondered if this was the fire that
Ryder was talking about. I continued to roll, avoiding his heavy boot he had
aiming for my face.

Time to die, asshole!

I jumped to my feet, my
movements smooth and controlled for once. Must have been channeling my trainer.
My opponent seemed to expect I would go for his head again, but the moment he
was within arm’s reach, I dropped again. His eyes widened, and I had more than
enough time to slash out at his ankles. As the hilt of my sword whacked into
his injured ankle, he came tumbling down flat on the ground. I got to my feet
again, wasting no time, trying to think about what I was about to do next. I
was a robot. All humanity had left me. My heart pumped with adrenaline as the
sword came down and bit into his exposed neck.

The blade was sharp, and
cut through the initial skin like paper, but there was resistance as I fought
to finish the job. I was struggling to not stop. I wanted to scream, or vomit,
or throw the fucking sword far away where I couldn’t see it again. But this was
kill or be killed. I had no choice, although sometimes it felt like that was
just an excuse. I simply wanted to live, and today luck had fallen on my side.

My arms shook as I
finally finished. The ash was still, his head connected by just by a sliver of
muscle.

The crowd roared as I
dropped the sword. There was a whining in my ears and I could no longer hear
the shouts as my chest began to heave in shock. Suddenly Ryder was there,
whisking me up into his arms. I fought him at first, but then let him take me
back into the locker room. He set me down and was holding on to my biceps, his
grip firm but not painful.

“Charlie!” His voice
pushed past my shock.

Oh God. I killed someone.
I cut his head off … I cut his … I tried to move my face away but I couldn’t. I
threw up all over Ryder’s shirt.

He didn’t seem fazed,
those silver and green eyes flashing at me. “Your first kill is always the
hardest.”

As if I could ever get
used to this. I wasn’t sure I could do that again, but if I didn’t I’d be the
one missing my head.

Since the fighting was over for the day,
Ryder took me to my room. I felt cold, chilled to my bones. I just walked
behind him, mindlessly following and doing what he said. He sat me at the edge
of my bed and handed me a bottle of blood and I drank it without pleasure. Then
I lay back as Ryder unlaced my boots and I curled into a ball. He placed a
blanket over me and told me to rest up until the next fight, in which I would
be fighting doubles. A sliver of me was sad that I was too out of it to really
enjoy this more caring side of Ryder, but I was already too far gone. I closed
my eyes and the deep kiss of sleep engulfed my mind.

A soft hand stroked my neck.
“Mmm … Ryder,” I mumbled, opening my eyes.

Jayden sat before me,
black eyes twinkling and shit-eater grin in place. “Oh my God, if we weren’t
about to go into a battle for our lives, I would tease the shit out of you for
that one.”