Winning the Legend
“I’d like to introduce everyone to Serge Moro. He is here from the wurdulac family to judge the competition, in case we don’t have a definite winner.”
By now no one needed an explanation. This was the one part of the competition that was tradition, and there was nothing Arianna could do to change that. She nodded to Serge, who came and stood before the group of competitors and their retainers. Even with him by her side, none of the men looked over to gauge the older man. She was everything in their eyes. Arianna wanted to find a cave to hide in, but instead had to settle for returning to her seat. She would have to feel the stares on her back instead of her face.
“Welcome everyone. I will be the judge for this competition. My name is Serge Moro. I’m the head of the wurdulac family. We hold no lands and thus will be impartial to this competition as we have no stake in any clan winning.” Serge paused to see if anyone would object. Not a single person found anything wrong with him for the choice. “This is to be a fair fight. The rules are that any technique can be used except for a kill shot. If you maim your opponent they must concede loss. If you feel you cannot compete, you concede a loss. At any moment, either player can voluntarily quit or I may choose to end the fight. Points are awarded based on hits. There is a ten minute time limit. If I feel one person is too far ahead of the other, I will call the match,” Serge paced the competition floor as he talked. The competitors all nodded. They knew the rules better than anyone; their ancestors had made them.
“To keep things on the fair side, we will draw names instead of having a set lineup,” Serge continued. All the men tried to half watch him, but they were really watching Arianna out of the corner of their eyes. Even her competition was watching, except for Devin, who could sense her almost as easily as Andrew. “Arianna will draw the first name. My lady, are you ready?” Serge looked as worried as Andrew had been before.
Arianna stood and pulled off her bulky sweatshirt before walking over to Serge. She sensed the men watch her and the pleasure they had at her competing. She was dressed head to toe in her training gear and was sure that was now part of the draw, as the tight-knit material left very little to the imagination. There was nothing she could do about that as she needed the complete ability to move to fight properly. Arianna wasn’t worried about the competition. Turner and Devin would refuse to fight her, giving her two easy wins. Arianna reached the table and took a card and handed it to Serge before going over to one side of the fighting area.
“Loan Durand,” Serge read. Loan stood and moved to the other side. Serge looked over to Arianna and could not judge her reaction to the draw. He was willing to call any match on her behalf.
Arianna took a deep breath. She wasn’t staring at her competition, but at Devin and Andrew, who were now sitting next to each other. They were both giving her silent, last-minute advice. Saying she wanted to fight for her own freedom was completely different than standing across from her first competitor. At least with Devin or Turner, she would know their fighting style even if they didn’t fight. Loan’s dark eyes just smiled back at her. She thought she’d be scared, eyeing over a man that would be soon attacking her, but she was not. Loan was radiating nothing but happiness. There wasn’t a hint of fight in him. She was more confused than scared.
“Do you have any questions?” Serge looked first to Arianna, and then to Loan, who both shook their heads no. Then Serge looked to the other competitors. No one had a question.
“Then we will begin. Opponents, take your mark,” Serge directed, and Arianna did not move. She was already standing on one of the bright red lines on the ground. Loan moved to his spot. “You may begin.”
Adrenaline coursed through Arianna’s veins as she experienced the nervousness of her family affecting her, along with her own edginess. They all feared for her. Only Andrew sat still, completely confident in her ability. Arianna fed on his confidence. If Andrew believed in her, then she would believe in herself. He didn’t smile, but his worry was gone. She could fight Loan and win. Arianna looked over to Loan and waited for him to attack. She didn’t want to make the first move. Loan didn’t move to attack, instead he smiled and bowed his head to her.
“I concede defeat,” Loan said loudly to the crowd that was all holding their breath.
Arianna looked up in shock as Serge nodded. She had won the match without having to throw a single punch. Loan walked the distance between them slowly. Reaching her, he bowed down and picked up her hand to kiss it. As her hand was close to his mouth, he paused.
“A true gentleman never hits a lady,” he said, quietly enough for only her to hear, a slightly southern twang to his voice. “My momma raised me with manners, and I won’t disappoint her, or the lady I plan to marry and bring home.” Loan kissed her hand, and walked back to the stands.
“Win to Arianna,” Serge replied, nodding to her to take her seat.
Arianna would not compete again until the second matches later in the day. She already had one win now and was one spot closer to her own freedom. She returned to her seat in front of Andrew, and his knees rubbed against her back. Everyone around her let out a collective sigh of relief when she returned to them unharmed. Arianna allowed the comfort of Andrew’s touch sooth her nerves. It had happened so fast. She had been ready to fight. Thomas handed her sweatshirt to her, and she was glad to put it back on as a protective barrier from the stares of the men around her.
“Devin Alexander,” Serge called.
Devin rose and walked to Serge to take a card. Devin smiled as he read the name and handed it back. Devin wasn’t one to show emotion often, so the eagerness from him made Arianna wonder who he had drawn.
“Brenton Winter,” Serge read, and Arianna knew why Devin was happy. The best friends were looking forward to this fight just for the fun of it.
“Go easy on him,” Andrew teased from behind Arianna as Turner stood. “You know he’s still recovering.” Turner laughed. Going easy on Devin was never part of the plan. He’d take any advantage he could. They were pretty much evenly matched, but Devin still won the majority of the time.
“I’ll go as easy on him as he will on me,” Turner replied. Devin grinned from across the floor. Yep, he planned to go just as easy on Turner, if that was what it was called when they sparred. “What? No mojo?” Turner asked as Devin threw his coat to Gabriel on the sidelines. Turner had gotten in the habit of calling Lord Randolph’s blood “mojo.”
“Nah, I figured I can do this one without. Maybe this afternoon, but I don’t think my opponent now wants me to beat him so quickly that he’ll get embarrassed in front of the lady,” Devin replied, taunting Turner.
“The only one who will end up embarrassed will be you,” Turner replied. “But I don’t mind. Your loss, not mine.” Turner lined up on his mark across from Devin.
“Begin,” Serge said, interrupting the trash talking.
Turner charged across the pit to land his first blow, which Devin easily blocked. Turner smiled as he backed up to try again. Without Devin using night human blood, it was obvious that Turner didn’t plan to transform either. It was strategically better this way, as no one would get a good idea how either fought with night human blood in them. Gabriel stood on the sidelines, watching the fight and mentally talking to each guy. He was doing his best to protect Devin who was, contrary to what he told everyone, not completely better. Turner attacked again, and Devin knew exactly how he was going to move. This time he used Turner’s momentum to score a point for himself.
Arianna observed as the flag was raised each time Devin touched Turner. Turner was scoring a few points here and there also, but it was obvious to everyone watching that Devin would win. Arianna searched Turner’s feelings and was surprised to find he wasn’t even mad. The old Turner would have been starting to break now, knowing that he was losing, but the new Turner was controlled, and actually enjoying the match. Quickly, the ten minutes ended with two very winded keepers returning to Arianna’s side. Neither had taken out the other, but that was
never their intent. When one was coming close to landing a final blow, Gabriel would tell the other.
“Match to Devin Alexander,” Serge reported, scribbling in the notebook where he was keeping the official record. “Last two competitors,” Serge said finally looking up from his book. “Rhys McKinny and Nik Katsulas.”
Both men stood, and Rhys purposely bumped into Nik on his way to his line on the floor. Something was said between them, but Arianna couldn’t make out the exact words. She tried to understand what Rhys kept saying under his breath as he moved to his spot. Sidhe magic was too new for Arianna to learn. They were words Arianna couldn’t understand. Nessa sat behind her brother in his spot as his retainer and could hear everything clearer. Arianna looked to Nessa for an explanation.
‘He just cursed him,’ Nessa told Arianna, who was still staring at Rhys. ‘In Gaelic.’ Arianna nodded her head. That would explain why she couldn’t understand what he had said. ‘Nik doesn’t stand a chance now. He should have just agreed to not fight like my brother told him. Rhys wanted an easy win. Now Nik is going to find out the painful way why you don’t go against what Rhys says,’ Nessa explained more, hinting at the evil truth behind her brother’s rule.
‘So what? Rhys will always win just because he can do magic?’ Arianna asked as Nik walked to his spot. From the way Nessa talked, Nik didn’t stand a chance now.
‘No, he needed to touch Nik to activate the curse. Most sidhe magic has to be done by touching someone or setting up a spell. That all takes time. Just stay away from my brother when he is calm, and you’ll be fine. Once he’s fighting, he doesn’t have time to set traps. That’s all done beforehand,’ Nessa explained, never taking her eyes from her brother.
“Ready?” Serge asked. Nik and Rhys both nodded. “Begin.”
Instantly each man transformed into his night human form. The anticipation in the crowd of men watching grew at the sight. Now they’d see a real fight. Nik’s hair grew redder, and his normally almost black eyes were flecked with a greenish blue now. Rhys, on the other hand, didn’t change physically, but somehow become even more beautiful than he already was. He almost glowed enticingly in the dim light of the competition floor. Most of the people identified the physical changes, but now with her new senses, Arianna saw the hidden changes as well. Rhys was internally stronger, his rib cage fusing to form an internal shield around his heart, which limited the most direct way to kill a sidhe. Rhys didn’t move as Nik began his attack. Nik ran across the field and hit Rhys directly across the body, cutting through his shirt and skin from left shoulder to right hip with his long poisoned claws. Arianna gasped at the brutality, even though she should have been used to it by now. It shocked her even more that Rhys hadn’t even moved. He was a completely still target.
Nik fell to his knees instantly as blood dripped from him, letting out a horrific scream. No one knew where to look. Rhys shirt was ripped, but no blood came from him where the cut should have been. He stood tall. Rhys was completely fine. He didn’t even move. He just smiled.
“I think that’s the match,” Rhys said to Serge. Serge looked back to Nik who was on the ground, bleeding profusely and unable to stand. “And don’t blame me. I wasn’t the one going for a kill shot.”
“Match to Rhys,” Serge said. “Someone get in there and fix that boy up. We still have more matches to get done today.”
Polo ran across the field to his brother. Carefully he pulled the shirt off. Nik was cut exactly where he had hit Rhys. The wound was deep, but not life threatening. Arianna looked back to Rhys, who was unconcerned with the injured man on the ground. His ally’s health did not worry him. Rhys had told Nik not to actually fight him, but to give him the match. Nik didn’t listen, and this was his punishment. Polo placed a salve across the wound, which began to knit back together before he helped his brother stand.
“That’s the first round. We will have a second round after lunch,” Serge replied. “Arianna, Devin, and Rhys are all tied for first place with one win each.”
Chapter 24
After eating and resting a bit, everyone returned back to the fighting grounds. Again the men watching and competing were the only audience. The thought of a real audience was actually starting to scare Arianna more than the competition after the earlier, easy, win. Everyone would come and gawk. She didn’t find fighting a sport, but the people waiting couldn’t wait to come on to the grounds to see everything. There would be even more pressure to fight in front of them.
Arianna’s guards were posted all around the estate, but the people she had transformed in the past week were near the grounds. If Rhys planned to make a move during the fighting, she had to be prepared. They weren’t sure when Rhys planned to make his move. He’d been smart enough, so far, to not trust his sister in telling her all the details. At least Arianna hoped he would give Nessa a little bit of a warning before striking, but either way Arianna was ready for that fight. It was just much harder now, pretending she didn’t have powers that she did now. If the men sitting around watching knew what was going on, her plans could be derailed.
“Arianna, will you please start the choices again?” Serge asked, waving her forward.
Arianna leaned back momentarily against Andrew’s knees, trying to give him a sense that she would be all right. He was confident in her ability, but after Rhys’ display he worried that the sidhe would go for blood, no matter what he felt for her. With Loan done, Arianna had a fifty-fifty chance of drawing Devin or Turner now. It was just that Andrew didn’t like the odds that she would draw Nik or Rhys. Both coveted her too much to back down from a fight and take a loss. They understood that their loss would be her gain, and possible freedom. While Rhys was still somewhat delusional that he would be winning Arianna over regardless of the fight, Nik’s only chance stood in winning the competition, and he was already one loss down.
Arianna took the card and glanced at it before handing it to Serge. She sent calm vibes to Andrew, and he immediately relaxed from his tense, ready-to-spring-across-the-grounds-and-whisk-her-away state of panic that was starting to set in.
“Devin,” Serge read for the crowd. Arianna felt the disappointment all around. Again, she wouldn’t be fighting. Devin couldn’t fight her even if he wanted to. He was bound to her as Turner was, and they could not, as keepers, fight her.
Arianna stood on her line and waited. Devin didn’t even rise from his seat as he called out. “Match to Arianna.” Serge nodded and marked it down in his book.
“You could have at least stood to meet me,” Arianna teased, jogging back across the fighting area and sitting back down next to Devin.
Devin smiled. “And what, walk all the way over there? You’re asking a man, who was recently on his deathbed to exert unnecessary energy. I’m tired and ready for bed. No need to waste any more energy than needed.”
Arianna playfully punched his arm. She saw beyond the teasing, but pretended not to. It wasn’t like Devin to be so lighthearted. He was also relived that he didn’t need to actually fight this time around. It meant one more day of rest before he would have to test how much better he had gotten since the attack.
“I made him use too much energy,” Turner remarked from beside her.
Arianna leaned her head on Turner’s shoulder. All this talk of sleep was getting to her. She was tired, too, from not sleeping well for the past few days, but happy to be surrounded by her friends. They kept her from going crazy from all the stares of the other men. It was beginning to freak her out, but Turner, Devin, Thomas and Andrew all formed a protective cocoon around her. They were just what she needed.
“Brenton,” Serge called to Turner. “You’re next.”
“Be right back,” Turner said, kissing the top of Arianna’s head and earning a stand full of growls from the other men competing. Turner didn’t even notice or, rather, didn’t care. Reaching Serge, he took the card, looked at it, and gave it back to him.
“Nik,” Serge read. Everyone watched Nik stand, looking for l
asting effects from the previous match. Serge wasn’t about to let him fight if he appeared to be too hurt.
Nik walked back to his own mark, facing Turner. His injury was wrapped and beginning to heal, but after tasting his blood, she could sense that it was still leaking beneath the tight wrappings. He didn’t show any weakness in front of the group, but his brother’s face was etched with worry. Polo smelled his brother’s blood as well. Arianna wanted to tell Turner to go easy on Nik, but she also wanted Turner to win no matter what.
Turner didn’t wait to be told to start before he transformed into his intermediate wolf form. It wasn’t a full moon, and he would be limited to the partial transformation. The lycan could only transform into a full wolf on the full moon. It wouldn’t matter much beyond the power that his full wolf had. In partial transformation, Turner was a fighter to reckon with, as most of his training was done in partial wolf form, anyway. The men watching seemed to be impressed by the young wolf, as his partial transformation was only a step away from complete. Not many lycan could transform so far between full moons. Turner was, in his own right, an impressive night human.
Nik waited until Serge was ready before entering his own night human form. While he wasn’t as pale as the dearg-dul, nor as beautiful, the dearg-dul were the closest night human form to the vrykolakas. Both had been the images used for years to depict the undead. His flesh smoothed, and his form grew only a few inches, but his sight was impeccable in this form. Now, thanks to his blood, so was Arianna’s. She knew that the bindings wouldn’t hold long. Nik wouldn’t last ten minutes. He was still injured, but that wouldn’t stop him. Nik’s teeth grew, and his face became grotesque with fine, but fearsome, features.