Tsunami Blue (17 page)

 We moved as one mass, pushing our way in toward…what, exactly?

Then, just like that, I was in.

And that was when I saw it.

The cage.

It was a raised platform shaped like a pentagram and lined with razor wire. Huge vats of burning oil lit the stage at each point. The smells of the rancid oil and human flesh, raw and bleeding, filled my nostrils. It was the smell of death. What was this place?

 I pushed through the crowd, fighting for every step. Panic was setting in. It was after midnight and Gabriel was nowhere to be seen.
Please, God
, I prayed,
let me find him
.

 It was such slow going, the crowd swallowed me up at times, and once I fell and was almost trampled. Large hands reached down and picked me up. I never even saw my savior to thank him. Incredibly loud metal music rang through my eardrums, while the air tasted hot and sour with too much sweat. Too much sin.

At last I was at the front of the cage.

It looked like a fight had just finished. They were hosing down the floors. The water ran crimson.

Suddenly the music stopped.

The crowd, knowing something I didn’t, hushed. The silence, thick just with breaths being drawn, was eerie, and creeped me out. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t want to find out.

Then the drums began.

It sounded like a death march.

I looked around, but I couldn’t see, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t—

My heart stopped. Gabriel. Bound and bloodied, he entered the cage through a hidden door. Pushed to his knees by a shirtless, scarred man, Gabriel had his hands untied and he was kicked to the side of the cage like a dog.

He wore long leather shorts already caked with dried blood. His beautiful hair, now matted and tangled, still shone blue-black under harsh lights of fire. Shirtless, scratched, and bruised, he still looked like my dark angel. An angel in trouble.

I wanted to run to him. Hold him. Cry for him. But I stood frozen. The terror crept through my bones like a ghost at midnight, gripping my heart.

Gabriel stood. His wonderful hands were clenched in rage, and the fury on his face spoke volumes. He might die tonight, but he’d go out fighting. He was battered about the face and bruised on his torso. He looked like he’d already fought.

The restless crowd chanted, “Fight, fight, fight, fight.” They stomped their feet, and soon the arena was wild with noise. Someone threw a bottle, and that started a barrage of objects thrown against the cage. Glass shattered but nothing could penetrate the wire mesh. Gabriel was safe from the crowd.

But surely not from the huge man coming in through the opposite door.

He had to be at least six-foot-seven; I’d never seen anyone so tall. Dressed in the same leathers as Gabriel, barefoot and buff, he bore the most amazing tattoos I’d ever seen.

 Every inch of his body was covered by scales, tattooed in iridescent blues and greens and yellows. His ears—and I couldn’t help thinking about Trace—were covered in tiny scales, along with lips, everything, even toes. I strained for a closer look. The tats wove around and down, circling his body.

I could see a pattern.

Snakes
. Every tattoo wove one snake into another.

A crowd favorite, Snake Man bowed, deep and low. When he raised his head, I found myself looking into serpent eyes of yellow and gold. He blinked and an opaque filter, a film really, covered his eyes. Spooky.  

I had a sick feeling about this. Something told me this fight would be far from fair. Something told me things could go very wrong.

Bells rang and a man with a bullhorn came out to announce the “rules.”

Head butting—good.

Eye gouging—pretty much.

Bare knuckles—of course.

Kicks to the head and spinal cord—encouraged.

Biting, chewing, swallowing. Why not?

Another bell sounded.

This was it. It would start soon. I wanted to cry.

Pushing past the last holdouts of people blocking my way I climbed onto the small platform surrounding the stage. Other people were doing it too, and I tried to blend in like an honest-to-goodness fan. My new tee helped. I was so glad my arm was covered. Flaunting my wave tattoo would have been stupid on every level.

I inched toward Gabriel, and when someone wouldn’t let me pass, I showed them my knife. I had to get as close to him as possible. I wasn’t about to let a snake-lovin’ groupie get in the way.

I had to take care with my weapons. I was down to two blades now.

After giving Aubrey my fleece, I couldn’t stow and stash all the weapons anymore. Plus I didn’t have that many left; I’d used a fair number in the city. Such a warm and fuzzy place, this New Vancouver.

I still had that bright pink duct tape on my wrist holding the switchblade. It wasn’t a question of whether I’d use it, but when.

Catcalls filled the air and I turned to the crowd. Men jeered. Some dropped their pants, making gross motions and sexual gestures. The women booed. I turned back to the ring.

The ring girl was parading in a circle with a sign over her head that read,
Runner vs. Cobra
. Cobra. Like I didn’t see that name coming.

I looked closer at the sign bearer. A stunning girl, she wore tall platform boots in black leather that laced high on her calves. Black thong, black tank top, black belly ring; at least we liked the same color. Blond hair tumbled over her shoulders, resting on her enormous breasts. I glanced down at my chest. Well, that didn’t make me feel any better.

But there was something else about her.

What? She stopped in front of Gabriel and I wasn’t thrilled about that. She kissed him hard, pulled away, and laughed. It was then that I recognized her.

The grip on the cage turned my knuckles white. I was fantasizing about gripping her neck.

Ring Girl was the woman Gabriel had rowed away with the night of the party. The girl he’d flashed his twin dimples at. She was the woman who didn’t bring him back.

She was with him the night he didn’t come home.

The night I didn’t get a practice session.

The night he broke my heart.

Chapter Twenty-five

I watched the blonde move away from Gabriel with hate in my heart.

She had set Gabriel up.

I watched her move and smile and wave. After she met me—and I’d make sure she did—she wouldn’t be smiling anymore.

So she was working with Trace. He had to be here. He wouldn’t miss Gabriel’s death. Hell, he’d want to stick around just to collect the ears.

I didn’t know what the man looked like, but I wanted to find out. Maybe I’d just look for a necklace made of ears.

If Gabriel died tonight and I lived, I’d find Trace and kill him. And yes, I knew there was no real logic in that—after all, Gabriel was working for the wrong side too. Still, I had business to finish with Gabriel. If Trace took away my only chance to find out why this Indigo and the entire Runner nation were looking for me now, all these years after Seamus’s death, and if he took away my chance to say good-bye…?

 My throat closed and I willed tears to stay put. To stay hidden and secret.

Say good-bye? How?

How could I say good-bye to this man I knew well enough to fall in love with, yet not nearly as well as I thought? He was such a dark enigma, a mystery man. Maybe I didn’t know him at all.

I looked at Gabriel up there: so proud, so ready to fight, ready to defend.
I don’t share
. His words floated back to me.
Well, Trace. Whoever you are
—I scanned the crowd—
I don’t share either.

The bell rang three times, and the fight was on.

There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. It was the most helpless feeling in the entire New World.

The men began to circle each other, slowly. So slowly. Soon the speed began to change. And my heart rate increased.

Gabriel went on the offensive, rushing Cobra first. Dropping to the floor, he took out the large man’s legs from under him. All six feet, seven inches of Cobra crashed on what should have been a mat, but instead was made of stainless steel. The unforgiving steel of diamond-plated metal was designed to draw more blood, make it a better spectator sport. Plus it was easier to hose off the blood.

The big man didn’t get up. Blood ran over the diamond plate and pooled in little silver pockets. I was close enough to get a whiff of its coppery scent. I looked down at the spray of scarlet droplets that had splattered through the wire mesh and landed on my hands.

Blood on my hands. I couldn’t deny it. My eyesight blurred as visions of all the men I’d stabbed and maimed and killed passed through my mind. I saw the Runner when I was thirteen, dead at my feet, and last I saw Seamus, whom I’d vowed not to care about, but did, lying on a beach surrounded by crimson.

My stomach twisted and a wave of nausea hit me.

The roar of the crowd brought me back to the fight at hand. A fight I wasn’t in physically, yet, but a fight that was about me. If Gabriel Black hadn’t hunted me, found me, hadn’t kept me for a trade with Indigo, none of us would be here.

And I never would have met him.

Or the boys. Or little Aubrey. Or my Max. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have Christmas Blend.

Coffee? I shook my head. Whatever happened to my priorities? I covered my eyes as Gabriel landed a particularly nasty punch. Still, coffee was important.

I chewed my bottom lip as Gabriel smashed a flat palm on Cobra’s nose. I heard a sickening crunch. Gabriel and I had both done enough fighting to know that could have been a death blow. He could have sent the Cobra’s nose straight into his skull, lodging it in the brain.

But he’d chosen not to. Why?

Gabriel, on top now, put a knee to Cobra’s impossibly thin throat. Gagging, the man shot his tongue out, lapping and licking at the air. His long, snakelike tongue had been altered, sliced, really. Now in two parts, with a split down the middle, it forked and flailed as Cobra hissed and tried to spit.

The tongue looked every inch like a serpent’s. I shivered. It gave me the creeps.

With the right amount of weight, Gabriel could crush the throat immediately. But again, he chose not to do it. Why?

It was a bad decision.

Gabriel couldn’t see the scissor move behind him. But I could.

“Gabriel. Behind you!” I screamed.

Mistake. I had made a terrible mistake. Gabriel, clearly confused by my voice, paused. And it was the pause that got him.

Cobra locked his legs around Gabriel’s throat. Gabriel flipped backward and landed hard on the floor. He didn’t move.

I gripped the wire and shouted out his name over and over. Nothing. Nothing.

And then I saw it.

He opened an eye, just a crack. He was looking for me. I knew it. And he was playing dead.
Remember playing dead, Blue?
I hid a smile. He was so going to nail Cobra.

Cobra came in for the kill.

Gabriel got there first. He met the man with a full-on punch to the gut, then an uppercut to the ribs. I heard a crack and I knew some broke.

Cobra stumbled back, dazed and disoriented. Man, Gabriel was doing great. He was going to win this thing. He was going to live. I shouldn’t have been, but I was proud. And excited. And relieved. Plus, I’d get another crack to kill him myself if I wanted to. What a win-win situation.

And that was when I saw it.

The signal. From the sidelines. Ring Girl, who I was now calling Bitch Slut Whore, was called over to a slender but well-built man in his thirties.

He pointed at me.
Oops.

I had been so caught up in the fight, I’d failed Survival 101: Be aware of your surroundings. The man motioned to others throughout the crowd, and I felt the world close in on me. Was that Trace? Had to be. Still, he was so nondescript. Where was the ear necklace?

Now something was happening in the cage.
Shit.
I couldn’t watch it all: my danger, Gabriel’s danger.

And what about Ring Girl? What was she up to?

A bell sounded. Men came out of nowhere to drag Gabriel to his corner. One even punched him in the ribs.

 “Hey,” I shouted. “Not fair.” But my voice was lost to the crowd. I wondered whether Gabriel was lost to me too. I looked behind me. Men were approaching. Fast. Now I had to get out of here. But leave Gabriel? I looked again just in time to see the guard land another blow to Gabriel’s abdomen. I studied the guard. I wanted to be sure I had the right man when I killed him.

The bell again. So soon? Ring Girl had spent some time in the corner with Cobra. I didn’t like it.

But I had to move. I had to get lost in here. I had to think, think. If I got nabbed, how could I help Gabriel?

As I jumped down from the stage I looked back—just in time to see Cobra bite at Gabriel, as if snapping at him like a dog might, or a snake. A stream of red smoke floated in Gabriel’s face.

I froze. I knew this. Didn’t I? And then…yes. I
knew
this. Seamus had told me the story when I was a kid. Asian mist, originating in Japan, was used by extreme boxers and wrestlers. It caused intense stinging of the eyes. And the bastard Runners had made it so much worse. Their version, now with powdered snake venom, blinded. Delivering it from a pouch that fighters hid in their mouths, they aimed at their opponents’ eyes. It seared and burned and ultimately blinded. It only made sense that the snake man would be packing Asian mist, complete with snake poison. It was part of the package.

“No!” I screamed. “No.”

But before I could run back to the cage to warn Gabriel, it was too late. By the time I got back I could see only what was left of the powder, as fine red mist floated around his shoulders. Gabriel dropped to his knees. Holding his hands to his eyes, he rolled over.

“Why, John?” he moaned. “Why?”

John? Gabriel knew Snake Man? Was that why Gabriel refused to go hard at him? To deliver the killing blow? I looked to Gabriel and caught my breath.

He was still. Too still.