This time it was a Gluttony demon. The thing was so massive it took up most of the ring. He looked kind of like Jabba the Hutt, only less attractive.
“What do you think?” Giguhl jogged in place with his gaze on the Glutton. I suppose he was trying to be intimidating, but his opponent was oblivious. He was too busy polishing off a bucket of fried chicken.
“I’d go for the tongue, personally,” Slade said. He’d already done his song and dance for the crowd before joining us on the sideline.
Giguhl tilted his head and considered it. “I don’t think I want to touch that thing.”
“How about the eyes?” I offered. “That’s always a good bet.”
The bell dinged and Giguhl shot off into the ring. He then proceeded to ignore our advice completely. Instead, he ran straight forward like a ram and head butted the Glutton in its gelatinous stomach. He bounced off like he’d gone headfirst into a trampoline. His ass hit the concrete with a thud.
“The eyes!” I yelled. “Go for the eyes!”
Next, Giguhl did some sort of leaping attack maneuver and landed on the Glutton’s head. The crowd went crazy. Giguhl hung on for dear life as the blubbery demon tried to shake him off.
“Hold on, Giguhl!” I tried to sound encouraging, but it wasn’t looking good. The Glutton roared and shook harder, like an enraged bull trying to unseat a determined cowboy.
Then Giguhl reached up and grabbed a low-hanging rafter. He swung his body through the air and kicked a hoof into the Glutton’s right eye.
An ear-piercing wail cut through the smoky air. The Glutton couldn’t reach its eye with one of its short arms, and green blood sprayed the crowd.
I jumped out of the way. “Ha! Told ya!” Without thinking, I turned and gave Slade a high five. Then, realizing what I’d done, I cleared my throat and tried to recover my dignity. Slade smiled at me over the cigar he had clamped between his fangs.
The Glutton let out an unholy noise, forcing my attention back to the ring. I turned just in time to see Giguhl rip the obese demon’s bulbous tongue from his mouth. Green blood spurted all over Giguhl. He hefted the tongue above his head like a trophy. The crowd screamed their approval.
Slade jumped in the ring then to do his song and dance. I turned to go, not having the stomach to listen to the tongueless demon beg for mercy. Plus, I needed another drink before I met with Slade in his office.
Slade slapped a stack of crisp bills in front of me. “That demon of yours is a gold mine.”
I picked up the stack and did a quick count. Two grand. Not bad. Although I had to wonder what kind of cut Slade had taken. Not to be petty, but I needed to be making more than this to afford an apartment in the city. “He’s something, all right,” I said, referring to Giguhl.
“Why so glum?” Slade said. “You’ve got a good deal going here. Your demon’s a monster in the ring, and you just get to sit back and rake in the cash.”
“Believe it or not, I actually prefer to earn my money the old-fashioned way.”
Slade’s eyebrow lifted.
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I didn’t mean prostitution.”
“Right,” he said. “Killing people is a much more noble profession.”
“It pays the bills,” I said. “Or it used to, anyway.”
Slade sat his chair, watching me with a calculating stare. “I guess pissing off the Dominae’s been pretty bad for business.”
I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “You could say that.”
Slade rose and went to the wet bar. He lifted a decanter, filled with something amber, in my direction. “Scotch?”
I nodded.
Slade made a production of pouring a couple of fingers of scotch into two glasses. He handed me one and clicked his glass in a toast. He sat behind the desk with his drink. Once his wingtips rested comfortably next to his leather blotter, he lit another cigar. He looked like a fat cat ready to pounce on a canary. “I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about my offer.”
I took a sip of the scotch. The amber liquid warmed my throat on its way down. I smiled. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Never.” A slow smile spread across his full lips. My traitorous eyes enjoyed the sight.
“I still don’t see why you need someone like me. I know you’ve been out of the game for a while, but it wouldn’t take much to get you back into shape.” I looked pointedly at his taut midsection. “You could try cutting down on the carbs. Maybe some jogging.”
His smiled tightened at my jab. “Unfortunately, in my position, it would be… inconvenient to get my hands dirty, so to speak. No, I need someone I can trust to take care of certain delicate situations.”
“My answer is still no.”
He pursed his lips, as if trying to think of another angle. I saw the moment he realized it was time to retreat. “Okay. I’ll drop it. For now. But one of these days, when your defenses are down, I’ll convince you.”
I laughed. “See? You don’t know me at all if you think I ever let my defenses down.”
“Still playing the tough girl, huh?” he teased.
I sobered. “Don’t fool yourself, Slade. I’m not playing at anything. You might have gone soft over the years, but I’ve only gotten stronger, faster, and smarter.”
Slade smirked back, as if he wanted to challenge my assertions. I crossed my arms. Time to end this conversation. “The demon you can have because he wants to fight. But I’m not for sale.”
He looked at me with a knowing smile. “Not yet.”
While I waited for Giguhl to finish another celebratory round with the nymphs, I grabbed a beer at the bar. Luckily, I’d been smart enough to take my cut before he spent it all again.
While I drank, I thought about money. Even though I’d protested Slade’s offer more than once, part of me wondered if returning to the dark side might be a viable option. Sure, the magic training was coming along. But the fact I had no long-term plans bothered me. Giguhl was making a nice bankroll from fighting, but I couldn’t live off his winnings forever. Eventually, I’d need a job of some sort. From what I’d seen, a lot of the mages in the city held mundane jobs and blended into society for the most part. My skill set didn’t exactly lend itself to legitimate work. The very idea of working in an office gave me the shakes.
So that left me with illegitimate options. I could always hire myself out as a contract killer, but I lacked the connections here to get started. Well, I had one, but at this point working for Slade was option Z. Maybe Rhea was right and I needed to work on my patience. Surely some other source of income would turn up.
I drained my pint of beer just as Earl came over with a fresh glass. He placed it on the bar in front of me.
“You read my mind,” I said, impressed with the bartender’s attentiveness.
He smiled. “Nah. The werewolf sent it over with his regards.” I looked at him curiously, and he nodded toward a table at the back of the room.
Michael Romulus sat at the head of the table, surrounded by eight males. Judging from the way they watched him watch me, they were all members of his pack. Since he’d sent me a beer, I assumed I wasn’t in danger of another challenge, but I knew better than to relax completely.
I met Michael’s gaze for a tense moment. I hadn’t seen him since our fight, and I wasn’t sure how things stood. He didn’t show any outward signs of lingering injury, but I guessed the bruise to his ego still stung. After all, even though Slade declared the fight a draw, we both knew I could have ended him. In my experience, most males don’t enjoy the knowledge they’d been bested by a female.
He rose from the table, waving his companions to stay seated when they went to follow. I took a long draw of beer as he made his way over. I looked for signs of aggression, but he didn’t bulk himself up or stare me down like an opponent. His shoulders were relaxed, and his eyes strayed just south of mine.
He stopped a respectful three feet back. “Sabina.”
“Michael,” I nodded. “Thanks for the beer.”
“May I?” he motioned to the empty stool next to me. His respect of my space helped me relax a tad, but my guard was still up until I knew the reason for this little chat.
“Sure,” I said with a casual shrug.
He motioned to Earl for a drink before looking at me. “I hear that demon of yours is quite a sensation in the ring.”
Ah, I thought, he wanted to ease in with small talk. I mentally shrugged and played along. “He’s something, all right. Do you ever go to the fights? I didn’t see you in there.”
He nodded to Earl in thanks for the drink and took a sip before answering. “No, watching two demons beat the shit out of each other isn’t what I consider entertainment. The world’s violent enough without making it a spectator sport.”
My eyebrows rose. Considering the last time I saw Michael he was trying to kick my ass, I found this stance ironic. But I guess he considered that necessary violence, as opposed to the recreational kind. “So if you didn’t come here to provide me with color commentary on my demon’s fighting skills, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”
He’d been rolling the frosty mug between his palms, staring at it as if it held some sort of answers. Finally, he lifted his head and looked me right in the eyes. “You’re right. I need to warn you about something.”
I cocked my head. “Oh?”
“Someone’s got it in for you.”
My initial reaction was to laugh. After all, this wasn’t news. But something told me Michael Romulus wasn’t the kind of male to spread rumors. “Why do you say that?”
“Look, normally I’d shrug it off as not being my business. But since it’s impacted my pack, I can’t let this pass. The night you poached on our territory, my guys didn’t just randomly stumble into you.”
I shrugged, since I’d figured as much. “I figured they’d heard the gunshot when the human shot me.”