Adriana’s one big advantage was jealousy. Dr. Marloe had said that jealousy works like a magical poison. I wasn’t jealous of Adriana. Yeah, she was prettier and a princess, but she was so screwed up. I mean, Lord knows I have issues with my mother, but Adriana didn’t seem to be doing all that much better with the queen. Adriana envied me for some bizarre reason. Envy is a form of jealousy. Knowing my luck, her weapons would be poisoned for me.
Hand-to-hand. Adriana paused. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of the weapon that matches the one you gave my mother. Now how had she’d known about that? Telepathy, I suppose. One scratch might kill me. Or not. I can’t be sure.
I was a little surprised. A moment ago she’d been more than ready to risk dying. Now she wasn’t? Not that I was sorry, but what the hell?
You are not who and what I thought you were. Adriana’s voice held clear puzzlement. Honor must be served, but I am no longer certain your death would be a good thing for me or my family.
Ah, so she’d been that sure of winning. She must be very good to be that cocky. Cool. Since this was the equivalent of a sparring match, it could be fun. I do love a challenge.
In front of the dais, people rearranged themselves into a loose circle about twenty feet in diameter. The queens remained on their thrones. Since the thrones were on a higher level than that of the fighting area, they’d be able to see well enough.
I stripped off my jacket, wondering what I should do with it. I didn’t want to leave it lying around where anybody could get at it. Most people are honest. But it only takes one who isn’t. I already suspected that Ren had sticky fingers. I didn’t want to lose either my weapons or the jacket itself.
I was saved by Queen Lopaka yet again. At her gesture, Hiwahiwa stepped forward, taking my jacket and then standing before me, waiting expectantly.
For what? I looked around and saw Adriana standing nude in the center of the fighting ring.
Oh no. I’m not good at casual nudity. I looked at Queen Lopaka. “Is there some big ceremonial reason we have to fight nude? I mean—” I pointed at the rock-strewn sand. “There are places I really don’t want to get sand embedded.”
She fought not to laugh. The machinations a person’s face goes through when trying to stifle an involuntary reflex are actually pretty interesting to watch. Finally she spoke and her words held all the laughter her well-schooled features didn’t. “Nudity guarantees there are no weapons or charms secreted that could injure the other or protect one from the other. We have fought nude for millennia. However, I can accept this is a different age and that you are not familiar with our customs. I will permit enough clothing for modesty, but no more.”
So, while everybody watched, I stripped down to my undies. I’d sort of cheated when I put on the lavalava to begin with; I’d just tucked down the straps of my bra. Fine. I’m a prude. But even though I was wearing my panties and bra, I was seriously uncomfortable. Adriana being nude was going to change my fighting style. There was something about throwing a punch at a breast that wasn’t the same as punching a shirt. Weird but true.
Pretending a poise I didn’t actually feel, I made myself walk casually through the path the crowd made for me until I reached the center of the ring.
I don’t know what I expected: maybe one of those formal bows that start a martial-arts match, maybe somebody shouting, “Go!” I wasn’t expecting Adriana to launch a high kick at my face with no warning whatsoever.
She was good and she was fast. Whoever had trained her knew what they were doing. I hadn’t realized that sirens were on par in speed with vampires. If I’d still been a vanilla human, that kick would have laid me out flat, maybe even broken my neck.
But I’m not fully human, not anymore. I saw the blow coming and was able to duck, twist, and grab her ankle. Using her foot as a handle, I continued my turn, pulling her off her anchoring foot and flinging her to the rocky ground with a heavy thud. It had to hurt. Hell, it was painful to hear. But she rolled and stood, blood oozing from scrapes where her skin had been torn off by the coarse rock. Ouch.
But it didn’t even slow her down. Before I could even step backward, she was flying at me. She grabbed my arm and tossed me probably a dozen feet. The circle of people parted to let me fly past. On landing, I shook my head and tried to clear the fuzz from my brain. As I stood up, the calf that had been injured the night before informed me there was still glass somewhere in my muscles. The pain was sharp and immediate as I frantically moved left to avoid a kick square in the face. I leapt to my feet from my knees like I was an extra in a Jackie Chan movie and we were off again.
We circled, eyeing each other, looking for telltale movements. Blows flew and were blocked. Feints succeeded or failed.
Soon, the scent of blood filled the air, adding copper to the salt filling my nose. I figured out pretty quickly that “first blood” wasn’t actual first blood. I paused briefly when that happened, but nobody stopped the fight, so oh, well. I’d keep going until someone yelled, “Stop!”
My vision was flowing in and out of hyperfocus, making it hard to think. Fortunately, there wasn’t really time to think, so it didn’t much matter.
The two of us were well matched. She had me in reach. I had better strength, though not by as much as I would’ve expected. We both were well trained. We would’ve been equal if I’d neglected my weight work. This could wind up being a long, painful ordeal with the winner determined by willpower and stamina. Fortunately, I have quite a lot of both.
She moved to sweep my legs, putting all her weight on her left leg. Timing my jump with exquisite care, I went for a flying kick. She turned, taking the blow on her shoulder rather than giving me her back and risking a spinal injury.
The impact staggered her, threw her off balance. It was the break I’d hoped for. I dived at her in a flying tackle, the pair of us hitting the ground with a jarring impact.
I thought I had her, but she managed to pull herself out of my grip and roll away before I could pin her.
I scuttled back, trying to gain my feet, but she was quicker—quick enough to kick me in the ribs as I rose. That hurt. I came to my feet hissing with pain and annoyance, blood gleaming like neon on the surface of glowing skin.
She was on her feet as well. Her expression flickered from startled to grim determination and she moved in to attack.
My eyes shifted into full vampiric hyperfocus. Everything was suddenly so clear. I could see each grain of sand, the pores and flaws in each stone. Adriana’s tiniest muscle movements were grossly exaggerated. I knew what she was going to do almost before she did.
She shifted, throwing a hard punch toward my solar plexus, but I wasn’t there. I’d dropped down and was sweeping her legs out from under her. She went down hard. Her head slammed against the same rock hard enough this time to stun her for a second. In that second I was on her, pinning her body with mine. She started to struggle, turning her head back and forth as she searched for some way of escape. I hissed again, but this time it wasn’t a sound of pain. It wasn’t a human sound at all.
My eyes focused on her neck and the pulse that beat so rapidly, so close to the skin. My sense of self began to fade as the world narrowed to that tiny fragment of flesh. I needed to taste the blood underneath . . . more than I’d ever had to do anything before in my life. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. My mouth opened. Adriana’s eyes went wide and she struggled anew, but the sinews in my arms had turned to iron straps and she couldn’t get away.