Our particular seats were on the middle tier of the neutral section, giving us an excellent view. Seated closest to us were Evan, Antonio, Luther, Wes, Lena, Fletcher, and Norm.
Fletcher leaned in. “Widow Twankey’s sitting on Rowan’s side, next to Marcia. Have you noticed?”
“He’s talking about Magda,” explained Sam, having sensed my confusion.
“Maybe we’ve finally succeeded in alienating her.” Fletcher looked utterly delighted. “The paint pellets most likely helped with that.”
“And the chopstick incident,” said Norm, laughing.
Yeah, and that was what worried me. The last thing we needed was that woman to be extremely pissed off. But apparently news of Sam’s attempt at taking out Magda’s eye had gone around like wildfire…and everyone thought it was hilarious. And that Sam was a lunatic.
Magda wouldn’t exactly be happy to be the subject of a joke. Although…she looked quite happy right now. Excited, even.
Not willing to give that woman the satisfaction of ruining the evening for me with her ‘let’s keep them on eggshells game’ – honestly, what other game could it possibly be? – I switched my focus back to Sam. I kept that focus mostly on her as we watched the show. The first event, like the remaining seven, tested the strength and physical endurance of the contenders.
As I’d anticipated, Bran’s legion seemed to be the obvious winners right from the beginning, though Ricardo’s contenders weren’t too far behind in terms of points. Considering Bran was, for all intents and purposes, my uncle, I was obviously supporting him.
Not that I’d give my support to the other two bastards. I had to admit that I was really enjoying watching their faces turn various shades of purple each time their legion members lost at an event. Of course, I cheered along for Bran’s vampires with everyone else, gloating a little. I didn’t even care if that was petty. These guys had snubbed my fiancée, so fuck ’em.
After the eighth event, Rowan’s legion was eliminated from the challenge due to having the lowest amount of points. Out of Bran’s five contenders, the one in the fittest shape was selected to go against one of Ricardo’s vampires in the final, eliminating, challenge: a duel. Whichever side won the duel would win the overall contest.
Both vampires had impressive gifts, and the duel was filled with explosions, fire, bright lights, smoke, and rain. When Bran’s vampire won, cheers from both his section and our section filled the arena.
Only then was dessert finally served – the most amazing chocolate and caramel sundae, which I spoon-fed to a laughing Sam. Maybe that was why I hadn’t noticed Magda making her way down to the centre of the arena until she clapped to gain everybody’s attention.
Fletcher groaned. “Oh what’s that mental heifer doing now?”
“In honour of this tradition, I propose there be a friendly challenge between a guest and someone from the host’s side. Yes, ordinarily the hosts are left to be the hosts. But why not have a tiny duel to top the evening off? I would like to challenge…Miss Samantha Parker, the Heir’s fiancée.”
(Sam)
Oh joy. I heard all the mutterings and gasps around me, but I didn’t move my eyes from Magda. “So this is why she hasn’t told anyone. She planned to challenge me, knowing I couldn’t properly defend myself.” If she had told people that I was weak, they wouldn’t have counted her win as a genuine one. “Bollocks.”
Norm guffawed. “What the hell is she thinking? With your gifts, she doesn’t have a chance. It’s like the wheel’s still turning but the hamster died a long time ago.” Well of course he would think that. He didn’t know about my current problem.
But Fletcher did, and he shrunk into his seat. “I don’t think I can watch. My heart can’t take it.”
“There’ll be nothing to watch,” stated Jared. “This is not going to happen.”
I grabbed Jared’s arm. “I have to do it. If I don’t accept the challenge, I’ll look weak.”
He cupped my chin. “And if you do accept it, you’ll look weak. You can’t win this, not without your gifts. You’re strong, baby – so damn strong – but she’s a Pagori. Biology makes her stronger than you.”
“But not more agile. Maybe I can play on that.” I had at the try-outs, and it had worked then.
“Actually, I have an idea,” said Antonio. To Magda, he called out, “Your proposal to honour the tradition is a good one. But I feel that a challenge with Sam would be unfair to you, for she has very offensive gifts.”
“As do I,” said Magda, just as her arm melted into a blade.
I winced. “Not. Good.”
“My Sire was a Bestower, like yourself, your Grandness,” explained Magda. “He once bestowed another gift upon me.”
And wasn’t that just wonderful. The fact was that she had boxed me into a corner. If I didn’t come out clawing, it would be totally against my nature. But I wasn’t too keen on having that blade piercing through my body. She wouldn’t kill me, couldn’t, but she would make a spectacle out of me.
Jared was right; she was a lot stronger, and there was every chance that I wouldn’t beat her. But there was also a chance that I would, because there was more to duelling than the physical side of things. A good strategy was just as important. And Magda wasn’t exactly a full shilling, was she? Strategizing wouldn’t be her strong point.
In any case, I didn’t have a choice. Sighing, I went to stand but Jared put a restraining hand on my thigh. “Baby, don’t.”
“She can’t kill me,” I reminded him.
“But she could hurt you, and I’d rather step down from my position than give her the chance to do that.”
“I know you would, and I love you for it, but this is something I have to do. Not everything comes down to my gifts.” Before he could teleport me away, I called out, “I accept the challenge.” I stood, adding only loud enough for Jared to hear, “And so does Dexter.”
He double-blinked, then smiled a little, but worry still filled his eyes. “That snake better live up to its expectations. If you get seriously hurt, he becomes a purse.”
I gave him a light tap over the head as I past him.
Wes shot me a concerned look, squeezing my hand supportively. “Let Dexter help you. Wind him around your waist, or put him on the ground. Either way, he will do his best to protect you.”
I hoped he was right. Making my way down the stairs, I felt all eyes on me, felt the anticipation of some and the expectations of others. This was so crap. I’d been really enjoying myself up until this point. That fact alone made me want to skin the bitch alive. And there was every chance that my new emerald-green dress would be ruined. If she had a bunny, I’d boil it.
When I came to stand opposite her, keeping a standard thirty feet between us, she gave me a wide, smug smile. She was clearly confident she was going to win this. Unfortunately, she had every reason to be. The only plan I could come up with was to repeatedly dodge her, which would serve two purposes; remaining unharmed, and frustrating her so immensely that she made a mistake.
“I’m looking forward to this, Sam.”
“I’m not the easy target that you think I am, Magda.” Ignoring her snicker, I quietly said, “Novo.” Then Dexter was draped over my shoulders – yeah, he’d gone for a wander from my arm to my shoulders in his tattoo form. There were gasps and sounds of appreciation, but I was more interested in the nervous gasp that flew out of Magda. Ha. Carefully, I placed Dexter on the ground. He didn’t move away from me, just as I knew he wouldn’t.