Fields of Blood (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 2) (22 page)

“Let me guess,” I said. “You’re going to shoot me. No, wait—you’re going to beat me up because you got shot, and
then
shoot me. Am I warm?”

He laughed. “I’m not going to lay a hand on you,” he said. “What I
am
going to do is find out how our formula performs against a Fae. So congratulations, Mr. Black. You’re the first round of entertainment tonight.”

It took every ounce of control I had not to go for him anyway, even though I knew what would happen if I tried. “I’m not fighting anyone,” I said. “Unless it’s you.”

“Then you’ll be torn to shreds. Personally, I don’t care which choice you make.”

A metallic rattle and a horrible buzzing sound exploded from Taeral’s cage as he rammed himself against the wall. The shock threw him back, and he landed hard on the cement floor. Gasping, he pushed himself up and glared fire at Reese. “If you do this, human, it’ll be your death sentence,” he snarled. “I will rip your beating heart from your chest and gut you while you still live, and your agony will last for an eternity before you die. This I promise you.”

“Eternal agony, huh?” Reese arched an eyebrow and produced a dart gun. “You first.”

He fired. The dart lodged in Taeral’s throat. He pulled it out with a startled cry, then shuddered violently and curled inward, his eyes squeezed shut.

And now I wanted to kill the bastard twice.

“I’m tempted to give you a shot of this before you go out there, just to make sure it really hurts,” Reese said, brandishing the dart gun at me. “But I have other ways of ensuring that. For this round, at least.”

I had to look away from his mad grin. Whatever he’d planned for me, I didn’t have a choice. They’d put me out there, like it or not. But I wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

Unfortunately, that meant someone was about to hurt me. A lot.

C
HAPTER 32

N
o less than six soldiers marched me down the passage and shoved me into the harsh lights of the arena. I could feel it surging through me, stronger than the moon had ever been. The power was almost intoxicating.

But it wasn’t going to turn me into a match for a werewolf. All this power, and I had no idea how to use it.

I was still without shirt or shoes, and furious to be on display like this to the assholes clogging the bleachers. I didn’t even walk around half-dressed in front of people I knew. It was a petty thing to focus on, having all these bastards stare at my scars, but it kept me from trying anything stupid.

At least for the moment.

The other half of the arena was still empty, so I took a closer look at the place while I could. There was a five-foot gap between the circular razor wire fence and the wall at the start of the bleachers. Milus Dei soldiers occupied the gap at regular intervals, armed with a range of incapacitating weapons. So it seemed their intention was to keep the test subjects alive—presumably to fight another time.

There was no razor wire along the top of the fence that split the arena. A really determined, drug-crazed fighter could scale the fence and land intact on the other side, like I’d seen Tate and Luther manage from a greater height.

And there were only two ways out, one on each side. Through the smaller gates in the circular fence, across the manned gap, and then through a locked steel door that led to guarded passageways. Separate entrances from inside the research building.

So basically, there were zero ways out.

The door on the other side opened, and three soldiers dragged a fiercely struggling figure through. A man, bound and hooded like the woman last night had been. But I didn’t need to see his face, because I recognized the dirt-grimed cargo pants and camouflage thermal shirt.

Chester.

Now I knew exactly how Reese planned to hurt me.

“Get your goddamned hands off him!” I shouted, running for the fence. I bashed into it and rattled the chain link. Wouldn’t do a damned bit of good, but I really wanted to damage something. Preferably one of them. “Don’t you
dare
use that shit on him, you bastards!”

The soldiers didn’t even glance at me, but Chester stopped struggling at the sound of my voice. “Gideon?” he said, the word muffled through the hood. “You’re not dead.”

“No.” It was hard to speak through the lump in my throat. “No, I’m not.”

He made a sound that was close to a laugh. “I think…I’m going to be.”

One of the soldiers stuck a syringe in his arm and pushed the plunger down.

“No!” I rammed a fist into the fence as the soldiers dropped him and retreated, but only managed to cut my knuckles on a twist of wire. I barely noticed the blood. “You’re not going to die, Chester. We’re getting out of this.”

He didn’t respond. He was busy growling.

The change happened about the same as it had with the woman. Chester writhed on the ground, arched sharply and snapped the ropes binding his arms through sheer strength. A hand that sported wicked claws yanked the hood off. Contorted features, widened jaw, mouth bristling with fangs. His wiry frame thickened to muscle.

Finally, he got up. But he didn’t spring at the fence—he just stood there, heaving breath after tortured breath, staring at me with glittering eyes that held nothing of Chester in them anymore.

Waiting for the gate to open. Like he’d learned what to expect from watching the woman before him.

There was a muted buzz, and the gate started rolling back. Jeers and shouts rang out from the crowd in the bleachers. I backed away slowly and tried to think. A shield wouldn’t help. Glamour was pointless. And I was pretty sure I couldn’t shut him down.

But maybe I could put him to sleep.

Before I could focus on the words, Chester slipped through the widening gate and charged me.

I spun and ran, but I hadn’t gotten very far when claws raked my bare back. The pain slowed me down. Then something that felt like boots full of solid steel smashed my spine, driving me flat on the ground with an impact that stopped my breath. The claws sunk deep into my shoulders, lifted and shook.

Even if I could figure out the right words, I didn’t have enough air in my lungs to speak them.

The pressure grinding me down eased suddenly. I managed to snatch a single breath, and then Chester landed in front of me, already half-turned. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me upright, drawing his free arm back for a slash.

Come on, goddamn it. Go to sleep. How hard is it to say ‘go to sleep’?
I swallowed once, and rasped, “
Beith na cohdal.
”

His grip relaxed instantly. I fell to my knees as Chester’s glittering eyes dulled and rolled back, and he wavered on his feet. At last, he pitched to the ground.

The sudden silence in the arena was broken by another faint buzz. The small gate at the back popped open, and soldiers rushed in to form a circle around me. I noted the cattle prods with a complete lack of surprise.

But I wasn’t expecting the fear.

More than one of these guys seemed terrified of me. Tight jaws, stiff stances, wide eyes that kept glancing at Chester’s crumpled form. If I had to guess, I’d say they knew about magic, had been told it existed, but they’d never actually seen it. And they thought I’d killed him with a few words.

“What the hell
is
that glowing shit on him?” one of the soldiers muttered.

A jolt went through me. I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Those were tattoos a minute ago,” another one said. “That is some freaky shit.”

“Think he’s gonna try something?”

“I don’t know, man. But nothing glows like that.”

Jesus. Apparently the tats on my back were reacting—maybe to the moonlight, like the pendant did. And I didn’t know why. For Christ’s sake, I had them done at some random shop in Manhattan, long before I knew anything about the Fae or the Others. As far as I knew, they were just regular, normal-people tattoos.

I really wanted to ask the soldiers what they were seeing. But something told me if I opened my mouth for any reason, I’d get fried back to oblivion.

It was a long, tense wait until Reese came through the gate and headed for Chester first. Gun in hand, he rolled him over with a foot, crouched and held the other hand in front of his mouth—which was still brimming with fangs. “He’s alive,” Reese said. “You two, take him back in. The rest of you stand down.”

Somehow they knew which two soldiers he meant, and they hurried toward Chester like they were glad to be assigned a rampaging were-person over me. It took the other four a full thirty seconds to step back.

“You’re just full of tricks, aren’t you?” Reese said. At least the son of a bitch wasn’t smiling anymore. “I guess I’ll have to up the stakes.”

I managed a cold grin. “My offer still stands,” I said. “You want to see me fight? I’ll take you on, right now. You can even shoot yourself up with werewolf juice first.”

“Not tonight, Mr. Black. But before we’re through, I will face you. And I’ll kill you.” He jerked his head, and the soldiers double-stepped toward the exit gate.

I couldn’t help noticing that they failed to drag me out with them.

“I won’t fight anyone,” I said. “I’ll put people to sleep all night. I can keep this up as long as you can.”

The awful smile made a comeback as Reese backed away. “Are you sure about that?” he said. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve heard Fae magic doesn’t work too well against a fully transformed werewolf.”

There was a bang from the other side of the arena as the steel door opened.

I looked just in time to see four soldiers emerge, hauling the limp, battered and barely conscious form of Sadie between them. One at each limb.

“We’ve given her another dose of Compound 23,” Reese called from the safety of the gap behind the fence. “Just to make sure there’s no trace of humanity left when she changes. Oh—and by the way, she’s starving.”

Everything in me froze. Sadie had told me that werewolves shared some of the behaviors of actual wolves. Like the one where they’d attack people when they were hungry, and the only food source around was one that walked on two legs.

The soldiers dropped Sadie on the ground and beat a hasty retreat back through the gate, which they slammed and locked behind them.

She was already starting to change.

C
HAPTER 33

I
tried the sleep spell anyway. It didn’t work.

“Sadie,” I whispered through the fence as if she’d listen to me, when I knew damned well she couldn’t. She’d gotten to her knees, already covered with auburn fur and rapidly sprouting claws and fangs. Her gold eyes were raging infernos.

I backed away. They’d left the gate open, so I didn’t have much time before she attacked. I couldn’t stop her. But if I could slow her down somehow, maybe I could reach her. I knew she was still in there somewhere.

And then, I understood.

The blazing artificial moonlight, more than I’d ever been exposed to, was changing something in me. For the first time I could truly sense my spark—a cold and roaring flame at my core, power waiting to be unleashed. Power I could control.

It wasn’t exact or complete. What I sensed came through a kind of filter, a dull film, like a cataract over some internal eye. Instinctively I knew the filter was my humanity, preventing me from hammering out raw power without regard for where it landed.

But it would be enough.

Sadie was coming. She’d passed through the gate in complete silence, and now she approached slowly, with menacing promise. But something in her gait suggested a struggle. Every step hesitated a fraction, every breath caught and held a little too long.

She was fighting it.

“Sadie, you can beat this,” I said, knowing she could hear me where the jeering crowd couldn’t. Whether she would listen was something else. “You can. You’re not weak.”

A low growl rose from her throat. Her lips drew back from her fangs. Another heartbeat of hesitation, and she sprang at me.

Moving faster than I thought possible, I sidestepped and spun, then ducked as she made a quick turn and lunged from the other direction. She sailed over me with a frustrated snarl. Her landing was brief—she whirled and dove back toward me in a single motion.