Bound (11 page)

The lounging man radiated an authority that left Alex in no doubt that he must be the Clan Lord. With long, blond hair, a thin, sharp nose and narrow, dark eyes he was both handsome and frightening. His shades were completely unguarded and powerful beyond anything Alex had ever seen. It was like trying to look at the sun.

His guests were equally enthralling. The woman had a stunning beauty and power about her, but a softness too. She looked at Alex with a curious kindness. The man next to her had a similar look of concern, though his presence seemed colder. He emanated strength, his entire being seemingly carved from granite. He wore a tattered leather jacket and jeans, tousled dark hair hung down to his shoulders. If not for the arrangement of the seating, Alex could easily have mistaken this man for the Clan Lord. He had an age about him, an undeniable aura that humbled Alex, made him feel small, insignificant. Both their shades were guarded, closed, but Alex had no doubt they concealed considerable power. Neither guest was Kin, but both seemed far more than mortal human.

Silhouette touched gently against his chest, staying him. She stepped forward, bowed low to the man lounging on the sofa. He languorously held out one hand. Silhouette knelt, taking his hand in both of hers. ‘My Lord Joseph,’ she whispered, kissing his knuckles. ‘It pleases me to see you again. I apologise for disturbing you.’

Joseph stroked her cheek then looked over at Alex. His eyes penetrated Alex’s own, his mind sliding up and down with no concern for propriety. Alex stiffened again, but held himself immobile. He left his shields as they were, didn’t tighten or relax them. Silhouette had warned him that Joseph would look at him closely and he had anticipated that would mean looking inside and out. ‘Who’s he?’ Joseph asked. He sounded tired.

‘My Lord, his name is Alex and he’s a friend of mine. He needs our help.’

Joseph looked disgusted. ‘A friend? Really, Silhouette, I loved your mother dearly and I love you like a daughter, but why must you constantly act so … human?’

Silhouette sat back on her heels. ‘My Lord, I can’t change my nature.’

Joseph laughed. ‘No, you can’t, can you. He needs our help, you say? You may do whatever you wish, dear Silhouette. But why should we help? You’ll be lucky to leave here with him alive.’ He seemed about to dismiss them both.

‘Joseph, please. He can earn the right to your counsel.’

Joseph laughed, his head rocking back in genuine mirth. ‘Earn the right? Silhouette, please, you’ll get him killed quicker than ever that way.’

She smiled sweetly, like a toddler charming her father. ‘I’m serious. He can do it. And he doesn’t care if he fails.’

‘If he fails, he dies.’

‘I know.’

‘He knows?’

‘Yes. He has a considerable problem and he’ll either earn your help or die trying.’

Joseph looked over to the man and woman opposite him. ‘Please, excuse me for a moment.’ The granite man gestured politely with one hand, a small smile curling his lips. He scanned Alex up and down, nodded almost imperceptibly. Alex was too tense to return the acknowledgment.

‘Alex, is it?’ Joseph said.

He jumped slightly, realising he had become the focus of the Clan Lord’s attention. ‘Yes, sir.’ He inwardly cursed the tremor in his voice. He took a deep breath, the words of his Sifu in his mind.
Trust always in your own skills. Never think another man above you, beyond you. You’ll have lost before the fight begins. Should you lose, acknowledge your opponent’s abilities and congratulate him, learn from him and beat him next time. Half of every fight is in the mind.
He cleared his throat. ‘Yes,’ he said more forcefully. ‘Alex Caine.’

Joseph smiled, one eyebrow creeping up. ‘Well, Alex Caine, don’t you have balls of iron.’

‘Yes, I do.’

Joseph laughed, swinging his legs to the floor. He sat forward, elbows on knees. ‘You must have, tiny human. You really understand what you’re offering to engage in here?’

Alex concentrated, determined to maintain his centre. ‘Not exactly, no. But I know that I’ll either succeed or die.’

‘You have to fight, Alex Caine. Can you fight?’

Silhouette winked and nodded encouragingly. Fight? Well, that was one thing he certainly could do with absolute confidence.
Maybe something’s finally going my way
. ‘Oh yes, I can fight. I love to fight. That’s pretty much all I do.’

‘Really? I wonder if you’ve ever
really
fought, Alex Caine.’

‘My Lord.’ Silhouette put one hand on Joseph’s forearm. ‘I saw him defeat two gargoyles, single-handed. He really can fight.’

Joseph appeared impressed. ‘Well, Alex Caine, you might survive to talk further with me. Our disputes are settled in combat. We are great believers in the trial of the warrior. If you fight here and win, you may ask me whatever you wish. If you lose, well, you’ll lose. Are you ready?’

Alex drew himself up. ‘I’m always ready.’

Joseph seemed pleased by the turn of events. He turned to the man and woman opposite him. ‘Shall we?’

‘Certainly,’ the man said. ‘I’d quite like to see this.’

‘Really?’ Joseph asked. ‘I thought you’d try to save your fellow human.’

The man shook his head. ‘I think he can save himself.’

Joseph turned back to Alex. ‘Well, well. If Isiah here thinks you can prevail, then maybe you really can.’

The huge arena Alex was led to had a ceiling rounded in the same vaulted brickwork as the rest of the Den, only much higher. The sprawling rooms, corridors and halls under the Wandsworth house were like a small town underground, and this space was the largest he had seen. Torch-topped stone columns ringed a circular centre, open and flat, and an eldritch light emanated from the dome high above, bathing everything. Silhouette crouched before Alex, strapping his hands tightly in boxer’s wraps. He had been given a pair of loose cotton trousers. His bare feet were cold against the stone floor, his naked torso cool. The people gathering around, all standing or sitting beyond the columns, were otherworldy creatures, despite their human-like appearance, but he thought of them as just another crowd. This was just another cage. This whole bizarre situation just another bout.

This was his territory, his area of expertise. He did this all the time and today would be no different. The faces around him, smirking and derisive, were irrelevant. He let them fade away, focused on nothing but the space inside the columns. Silhouette finished the wraps and stood. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek and slipped away. He sat alone on the edge of the combat arena.
Every battle has rules
, he remembered
. Some are competition and have many rules, some are to the death and have none but the rules of physics. Always know the rules, know the field of battle, know everything that can be used against you or that you can use against your foe. When the fight begins, nothing exists but you and your opponent, and the space you occupy. Own yourself, own the space and own your opponent. Then own victory.

There was nothing here but a wide circle of flagstone floor. Silhouette had told him the crowd would push them back into the circle if they got near the edge, a problem he’d try to avoid. No weapons were allowed. Joseph might stop the bout, but only Joseph could. His opponent would certainly be trying to kill him. A simple set of rules. He had tucked the locket holding the shard of the Darak into the waist of his trousers, winding its cord together with the one that held the waistband tight. He could feel its power swelling through him and he drew on it. Not a weapon, Silhouette had assured him, perfectly permissible. He was as ready as he could be.

Joseph walked into the centre, the raised hubbub of voices quickly hushed. Alex became vaguely aware of the granite man, Isiah, and his companion, off to one side. Silhouette sat not far from them and a large chair stood empty next to them, presumably for Joseph. He let the image go. Nothing but the circle of stone floor existed. He stared calmly at his wrapped hands as Joseph spoke.

‘A human has come among us this day. Alex Caine. Remember that name, Clan, as it may go down in history. Or it may go down on the menu for dinner tonight.’ A ripple of laughter, with an undertone of growls, swept through. ‘There is some speculation,’ Joseph continued, ‘that Alex Caine may prevail this day. I, for one, am quite excited to see that. But I will not let him win easily. His opponent, Ataro!’ Another murmur spread through the crowd as the giant doorman stepped into the light. He wore nothing but a pair of knee-length shorts, his hands wrapped like Alex’s. His dark skin shone. He gripped his fists in front of his chest and flexed, massive muscles bulging as he roared, an animal sound. The crowd cheered.

Alex walked into the middle of the arena, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline course through his stomach, fire through his skin. He breathed it into his muscles, welcomed it like a favourite drug.
Every man has strengths and weaknesses. Every man can be beaten. And every man can lose. Step up knowing you can win. Find your opponent’s weakness and use it to defeat him.

Ataro stood head and shoulders taller than him, towering with muscles and malice. The insipid disrespect had been replaced with a bloodlust. A primeval urge to kill. He leaned down towards Alex and roared again, his face flexing through a parody of wolf before returning to Ataro’s human visage. Alex was calm, prepared. These games were his strength. The big man’s shades were all anger and rage. He exuded a desperation to destroy as quickly as possible. Alex could use that.

He looked into Ataro’s snarling features, pinned the man’s eyes with his own. ‘Did you finish your book?’ he asked. ‘Or shall I tell you the end before I kill you?’

Joseph laughed and Ataro roared again. ‘Oh, I like you,’ Joseph said. ‘It’s a shame you’ll die here.’

‘Die here!’ Ataro snarled.

Alex gave the ghost of a smile. ‘What are you now, an echo?’ he mocked.

Joseph laughed again, shaking his head, bemused. ‘I think we’d better get this fight started. Step apart.’

Alex and Ataro shifted a few paces from each other. Ataro’s face twisted in fury, his hands curled into claws, the muscles of his forearms and chest bulged. He opened his mouth wide, his teeth a forest of sharp, black fangs. His shades had colours and shifts Alex couldn’t recognise — Kin aspects he supposed. But there were others he knew all too well. Alex stood calm and relaxed, breathing deeply. This was combat, the essence of life. He would fight and prevail. If he lost, nothing would matter, so all that remained was to engage the battle. Ataro was massive, had unknown abilities, magic and shapechanging, at his disposal, but it all boiled down to the same thing. Seek out the weakness, exploit it and win.

Joseph retreated to his chair at the edge of the arena. He raised one hand high then let it drop. ‘Fight!’

Ataro barrelled forward, charging Alex like a bull. Alex had seen the shades, knew he would do exactly that, and sidestepped, lifting his knee to deliver a heavy turning kick to Ataro’s thigh as the man passed. It was the kind of kick that would usually cause a significant amount of damage when landed well. Alex landed it well, but felt a shock arc up his shin. Ataro’s leg was like stone. The big man spun, grinning.

When a technique doesn’t work, don’t concentrate on injury or despair. You’ve learned something about your opponent. Use that knowledge.

Alex danced back, ignoring the pain, breathing it away. He watched the shades shift around Ataro, read the man’s intent. Ataro charged again, swinging one colossal arm to collect Alex. Alex dropped, planted one hand firmly against the stone floor, and swept his leg around at ground level. He connected with the back of Ataro’s ankle and swiped the man’s feet out from under him. With a grunt Ataro fell. The crowd howled as Ataro hit the ground, rolled and regained his stance with preternatural speed. Alex barely shifted his weight in time as Ataro swung again, huge dark knuckles cracking into the side of Alex’s head just above his left eye.

Pain lanced white hot through Alex’s skull as he ducked and turned. He made a space between them, determined not to press his palm to the throbbing hurt. A warm trickle passed under his left ear and he knew Ataro’s iron hard knuckles had split the skin just behind his eyebrow. Ataro grinned. ‘First blood to me, little human.’

Alex feinted forward, reading Ataro’s shades for timing. Even as the man decided to move, Alex ducked through, driving the heel of his hand up, letting the stone at his waist flood his arm with power. Ataro grabbed air and Alex’s palm crunched into the big man’s nose. Dark red gouted, spraying Alex. Alex leapt to one side, twisting away as the huge man roared in pain and frustration, his own strike missing. The crowd roared with him.

The combatants kept their distance, circling each other. Ataro wiped scarlet and snot from his mouth with the back of one hand.

‘Second blood to me,’ Alex said. ‘You breathing okay?’

Ataro’s eyes were wide, incredulous, as he flicked the blood away. Confidence to surprise, surprise to concern, concern to fear, fear to defeat.
This
was a rhythm Alex recognised.

Alex circled, reading the shades. He would wait, let Ataro make the next move. Let the man’s frustration and anger make him clumsy. The shades shifted and Alex saw something he had never seen before. He read the movement, but didn’t know what it meant. It became clear as Ataro crouched, his legs bunched, his muscles stretched and warped. His arms and face lengthened, his hands became claws, his teeth extended to long ivory razors, all in a fraction of a second. A monstrous creature, part wolf, part man, part hideous denizen of nightmares, flew at Alex. So much for surprise to concern.

Alex jumped to the side, twisting in the air to avoid one great, swiping hand. Talons raked four deep lines across his ribs. Hot, searing pain folded through him, forcing him to clamp his elbow and upper arm against his body as he hissed with agony. Ataro landed and sprang instantly, changing direction, moving quicker than Alex could read. A desperate duck and roll saved him meeting Ataro head on, but four more scorching tracks ripped across his back. For a fraction of a second his vision swam, panic threatening.