*A huge thank you to Navycolt for editing this chapter. I hope you enjoy it!*
*****
A loud bang came at the door of her cell. She took a deep breath, knowing what was coming next. They had bathed her, no more than an hour ago, taking their time as they washed her hair and skin. It was always two that did it, the same two, a man and a woman. They washed her skin, shaved her, washed her hair and then left her to dress. The first couple of times she had resisted, throwing the clothes at the wall and screaming. It hadn't mattered to them; they had just taken her naked.
The audience had always like it when she was naked.
She learnt to do as she was told after that. She stood facing the door, her long hair plaited down her back. She wore tight black trousers, heavy black boots and a white vest. There was a red line slashed down the front, vivid against the white. She now knew that it was blood. It was used to draw the others to her. It marked her out as human.
The first couple of times they had gone easy on her. Her opponents were weak or dying, she was a bit of eye candy for the audience. It didn't take them long to realise there was something different about her, she was too good. She never lost a fight. That's when the tests had started.
They entered the opened door. They were twins, both with dark hair and eyes. He was called Tate; she was Tamra. They came forward and Ealasaid held her hands out in front of her. She knew better than to resist. They fastened a pair of metal cuffs around her wrists and led her from the cell.
They walked in silence down the stone corridors. Ealasaid knew this route perfectly by now. She could walk it with her eyes closed. The floor slowly began to slope downwards and she could hear the roar of the crowd. There was always a huge turn out when she fought.
When they reached the heavy metal gates they paused, and she turned her head to the floor. She didn't want to look out at the sand arena before her. The metallic smell of blood reached her nose. She felt a shiver go down her spine. She still got nervous before the Pits, but now excitement burned under the cold fear.
Another shout came from the crowd. Under it she heard the strangled cry of another fallen victim. A deep voice resonated across the sand and reached her.
"He fought well didn't he?" The answer was the roar of the crowd. "He will live to fight another day—for now."
The gates opened and a man was led through. He was dressed all in black, his skin stained red with blood. He leered at Ealasaid as he passed, but she kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Even so, she could feel his gaze on her as he was led away by two more Guards.
"And now ladies and gentlemen, our final offering for you."
Ealasaid felt a sickening jolt go through her stomach. She should be used to the feeling by now, but it still made nausea rise in her throat. In that instant she was thrown back to when she was a child. Alone and scared, waiting to be called.
Tate leant down and spoke softly in her ear. "We've got some important guests tonight human. They'll want a good show."
Ealasaid didn't answer. She stayed looking at the ground and clenched her hands into fists, trying to stop the tremors that ran through her. She heard a dragging sound and turned her head slightly so she wouldn't have to look at the lifeless bodies being taken out past her.
The same deep voice spoke. "Ladies and gentlemen I wish to present to you our Champion, Ealasaid."
The twins pushed her forward as she walked into the Pits. The Arena was sand, the floor enclosed by a high stone wall. Behind the barrier, stone seats rose to the ceiling. Guards stood around the stone wall, each holding a heavy gun. Their eyes followed her as she made her way to the middle. As usual, the seats were packed. She glanced up at the faces, twisted in impatience for blood. At the very top, opposite the gate, was an area devoid of seats. There was a large window set into the wall through which she could just make out figures.
Those must be the special guests.
A tall dark-skinned man stood in the middle of the sand. As Ealasaid approached, he turned to face her and gave her a cold smile. He towered over her, his body hard with muscle. His bright blue eyes flashed as she stood beside him. His name was Iman and he had been with the Order longer than anybody apart from the Agents. She had heard stories about him, but no one knew which one was true.
"Ready?"
She did not reply, staring intently at the stone wall separating the audience from the bloodshed below. Iman laughed softly.
"You'll warm up to me soon, human." He turned back to address the crowd. "As you can see our Champion is human." A jeer came from the crowd. "Don't count her out just yet; she may surprise you."
Iman beckoned one of the Guards forward, a tall blond man. When he reached them, he held out a small leather bag. Tamra unlocked the cuffs around Ealasaid's wrists before she and Tate walked back through the gate.
"Ealasaid, choose your weapon."
The Guard held out the bag. She reached in, praying no one could see her hands trembling. Her fingers brushed against the smooth white stones inside before closing around one and pulling it out. She looked at the symbol carved into the surface and smirked. Handing it to Iman, she waited as he held it up.
"Machetes."
A shout rose from the crowd. Her smile widened as a second Guard brought the weapons forward. The excitement was building in her chest, overwhelming the fear. She took hold of the handles, testing their weight, then flicked her wrists to bring the blades back to rest against the insides of her arms.
Iman waved his hand to a second gate on the other side of the Arena.
"Now meet her opponents."
The gate opened and five men stepped onto the sand. They flanked her in a circle, but she didn't look at them, her eyes fixed on the stone wall in front of her.
"Each of these men is wearing enough silver to slow him to her speed. All fangs and claws remain intact."
Ealasaid's eyes flicked to Iman in surprise. Her opponents always had their fangs removed before fighting. Fear grew, battling against the excitement. She swallowed, keeping her face passive.
"You look scared." Iman spoke softly to her, his voice smug. He liked seeing her scared.
"Just worried it will be over too quick." She finally looked at him. Her silver eyes burned. "I was told to put on a show tonight, I'd hate to disappoint."
Iman grinned. "We'll put that fire out soon human."
He stepped away from her. "You know the rules gentlemen." He addressed her opponents. "Attack when the gong sounds. Anyone attacking before will be dealt with."
He moved away and slowly her eyes closed. The sound of the gong reverberated through the Pits and the audience feel silent. She didn't move. As she waited, she heard the laughter of the five men.
"Human bitch thinks she's invincible."
"Well she was fucking LaBelle, she must be used to playing rough. That guy is fucking feral."
"Hey baby I could show you a better time. You'll forget all about that mutt."
Still she didn't move. Her hands tightened on the handles of the machetes. She listened as their feet came closer. Finally, one broke ranks and darted forward. She heard his feet moving across the sand, and without opening her eyes, she brought her arm up, slashing the blade across his throat. She heard him fall to the ground and the choking gasps that rattled from his chest.
A deadly hush fell over the room. She opened her eyes with a soft smile. Bringing the blade to her lips, she licked the blood away.
"You think Drago is feral?" She caught the eyes of the closest man, who faltered as she stared at him. "He's got nothing on me."
Her mind, as always, went blank. She didn't think about what she was doing, letting her body go to autopilot as she slashed at the remaining four men. She barely felt the scratches, the kicks, the punches that bruised her pale skin. All she felt was the warm blood that drenched her as she slowly cut down each opponent. Finally, there was only one left.
"What are you waiting for?" He spoke spreading his arms wide. "We both know how this ends."
"I'm being watched." She hated to admit it, but she got a sick pleasure drawing the moment out. "I have to make this good."
"You really think you'll survive this place?" He smiled. "No human has made it out of here alive. You're no different."
"Maybe not." She reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt. With a swift yank, she pulled him towards her and thrust the blade of her machete through his gut. His eyes widened as she put her lips close to his ear. "But I'm not entirely human am I?"
*
Ealasaid was surrounded. She could feel them pushing closer, hear the panting breath, smell the blood. She couldn't see a thing. She felt herself beginning to panic, her breath tearing out of her chest and she sank to her knees. Dropping her head to her hands, she waited for the sting of teeth and claws on her skin.
Ealasaid sat bolt upright in bed. Her chest was heaving. A thin sheen of sweat covered her skin. She pushed her hair off of her forehead and took a couple of deep breaths. It was just a dream. The memory stayed with her though. She looked over at Drago. He was still sleeping peacefully beside her, his head cushioned on one arm and the sheets resting around his hips where she had thrown them off as she woke.
Her eyes drifted down his body. The scratches had healed, leaving no trace. A cold jolt went through her stomach.
"Shit, please don't be one of them."
Again the memory flashed through her head. She felt sick. Rising from the bed, she walked through to the bathroom and ran the cold tap. Splashing the water on her face, she tried to calm herself.
"Come on Saidy. He hasn't hurt you." Her mind drifted back to the library when he had stood over her with his fists clenched. There had been such anger in his eyes and she shuddered at what he might have done.
He stopped himself. In her mind she counted back the days. It is close. It affects them around this time.
Splashing more water on her face, she ran her hand over the back of her neck, cooling her warm skin. Her fingers brushed against her throat. It was smooth and unblemished, but she still remembered what it had looked like when her wound had been fresh. She remembered how cold the blade was when they pressed it against her. She remembered the pain of the venom. She laughed softly to herself.
"Fucking hypocrite."
Turning the tap off, she returned to bed. Sliding back under the covers, she nestled close to Drago's side and kissed his stubbled jaw. He stirred slightly but didn't wake up. She moved closer, kissing his chin and down his neck. His slid his arm around her waist in his sleep and pulled her closer.
Ealasaid moved, swinging one leg over his hips and straddling him. Her lips roamed over his throat. She felt his cock grow hard.
"Morning," he said gruffly. She looked up into his eyes. A smile curved one corner of his mouth. A dimple appeared on his left cheek. She kissed his throat again.
"Good morning."
He took her hand and held it against his chest. She raised an eyebrow. His skin was warm under her fingers. He stroked her palm with his thumb.
