“Hey, Millicent,” Bianka screamed down at one of the popcorn launchers. “I see you’ve set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public. Your aim sucks!”
A pretty blonde whipped around, hands fisted on her hips. “Hey, there, twin-half number one. Or is it two? I can never remember. You’re both just too insignificant. If I throw a stick, will you leave to fetch it?”
“I am not a dog, you bitch.” Bianka propped her hands on her hips. “At least, your dad doesn’t think so. This morning he told me I’m the hottest chili pepper he’s ever had. You know, as I crawled out of his bed.”
There was an audible gasp among the crowd, and Strider could only blink. The “dad” thing was worthy of such horror?
“My father’s dead, you heartless mutt,” the one named Millicent gritted out.
“Oh,” Bianka said, her shoulder sagging. Then she brightened. “Your mom thinks I’m chili-pepper hot. She told me so this morning when I crawled out of her bed!”
The gasps turned to snickers. Millicent flew up the steps to tackle Bianka. Ding, ding. Another fight was on.
Strider found himself grinning. “Do you think she realizes what she just implied?”
“Yes,” Lysander said on a sigh.
“Fingers crossed she and the woman she’s pounding stop fighting and start kissing,” Sabin said. “That happens, and someone better cue the bow-chicka-wow-wow.”
Lysander straightened, clearly intrigued. “I see what you mean about engines being revved.”
Suddenly the Harpies who were booing erupted into deafening cheers, and Strider forgot everything else as he turned his head to find out why. His jaw clenched. Tabitha and her crew had just entered the court.
They wore half tops and fringed shorts, too, only theirs were blue. Then another team stalked in behind them, wearing purple. Another team in pink. Another team in yellow. Damn. How many teams were there? Another in green. Another in black.
His mouth dried up when he noticed that some of the women were bigger than he was. More muscled, taller, and hell, he would not have been surprised to see beans and franks. Although some of the contestants were as seemingly delicate as Kaia.
The women formed a large circle on the court, leaving the center empty. The one called Juliette, the brunette who’d run the orientation, stepped forward and held up her hands. Finally the crowd quieted.
“If you’re like me, you’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” she called, and had to stop when cheers once again rang out. Only when they faded did she add, “And so, let’s not waste a moment. First rule, you don’t talk about Tag. Second rule, you don’t talk about Tag.”
More cheers.
Grinning, Juliette said, “Just kidding. Now for the real rules. Only one member of each team is allowed in the ring at any given time. When that member wants out,” more boos rippled, faded, “all she has to do is tag one of her teammates. If she can reach one.”
Annnd…even more cheers exploded through the gym.
“If someone is too injured to continue, she must tap out for good. But think carefully before you go that route, ladies, because even if you heal, you can’t go back in.”
“I didn’t pay to see cowards,” someone shouted.
Juliette nodded her agreement. “For those of you who have never before played this type of game, you should know that the competition doesn’t end until only one team remains. Here’s a hint—fight dirty.”
“Eagleshields are gonna kick ass,” someone else called.
Juliette’s grin acquired a dark, evil edge as she focused on Kaia. “Good luck, everyone. You’re going to need it.” With that, she strode off, disappearing from view as the contestants swallowed her up.
Kaia tossed Strider a quick glance. So. She’d known where he was, had been as aware of him as he was of her. He nodded in encouragement, even as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. The females surrounding Kaia were eyeing her like she was a juicy filet and they’d just ended a week-long fast. He should be down there, shielding her, not sitting up here, doing nothing.
“Don’t worry,” Sabin said, patting him on the back. “Gwen won’t let anything happen to her.”
“I’m not worried,” he gritted out. No way would he let Sabin, Doubt himself, have more confidence in his woman’s abilities than Strider had in his. Just no way. “Kaia will protect Gwen.”
Boss man blinked at him, incredulous. “You want to argue about that? Really?”
Yes, damn it, he did.
Win.
Always. “Just shut the hell up and watch the game,” he said. “I’ll let you know before I head to the other side and start my spying.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I WILL NOT FAIL. I WILL not fail. I will not freaking fail. The mantra blazed through Kaia’s mind as she settled into position.
Neeka was the first in the “ring” for Team Kaia. Shoulders squared, head high, the girl strode to the center of the court, alongside the first from every other team. Soon, twelve Harpies stood there, facing off, waiting for the whistle to blow. The rest of the combatants waited on the sidelines like Kaia, crouched, one hand extended.
“We’ve got this,” Gwen muttered beside her.
“I know,” she said, glad there wasn’t a tremor in her voice. Strider was up in the stands, looking edible in a T-shirt with an ironed-on tie, and ripped jeans. The only glance she’d allowed herself had been a mistake. He was a distraction she couldn’t afford, but she’d had to assure herself that he was up there, that he hadn’t abandoned her. She only prayed he witnessed her victory, not her defeat.
I will not fail. Too much was at stake. Her reputation. Strider’s respect. Hell, his life.
Not that he’d agreed to her terms. He’d never flat-out said he’d wait for her to win the Rod and keep his thieving hands to himself. She’d realized that only an hour ago as she’d prepared for Tag. She’d needed a distraction from her the-world-is-at-stake panic and had replayed her every conversation with Strider.
Was he planning to search for the Rod during the game? Most likely. She wondered if he didn’t trust her to bring home the gold, or if he was simply too impatient to wait.
Don’t think about that now. Concentrate.
I will not fail.
“Wait till you see Neeka fight,” Taliyah said, almost…grinning? Surely not. Taliyah never grinned. Or scowled. Or yelled.
“If she’s so good, why’d her clan let her go?” Kaia asked.
“’Cause she’s deaf and they’re idiots. Plus, she was voted Most Likely to Go Off the Deep End and Kill Everyone Around Her.”
And she was now on Kaia’s side? “Sweet!”
The shrill screech of the whistle sounded, echoing from the walls and blasting Kaia’s ears.
Game on.
Immediately the girls in the center of the court leapt into action. Kaia stiffened, watching. They attacked each other, claws and fangs bared, and within seconds bodies were slamming into the wall of waiting onlookers. Blood sprayed, warm and rich. Her Harpy caught the coppery odor of it and squawked for a taste.
Calm, she would remain calm. The only people she could harm were the ones in the ring. Hurting anyone outside it would result in a disqualification. If her Harpy took over, she would hurt everyone.
Each team could be disqualified from one event, and one event only, and still qualify for the grand prize. If that happened, though, you had to hope and pray you had a good showing at the other three events, earning at least third place each time, or you wouldn’t stand a chance.
An unholy shriek drew her attention, and she found herself concentrating on Neeka. The sweet-looking beauty…dear gods. Neeka jumped up and hovered over the battling girls Matrix-style, slow motion, arms outstretched, knees drawn up, gaze quickly roving, taking stock, before picking her prey and dropping in a blink. She landed atop a wide set of shoulders, her hands wrapping around the attached head and twisting. Bone snapped, and the poor girl collapsed.