Belligerent (Vicara) Read online

  “Shifter's not like the other Owners,” she said. “He's not juggling multiple teams. We're his only responsibility. He actually cares about us, you know.”

  “Forgive me if I doubt that.”

  Mackenzie muttered something under her breath that Ryan couldn't hear. “Whether you believe it or not, Shifter does actually care about us. If we don't qualify for Vicara, he'll make sure we're taken care of. He'll probably place us in one of the Belligerent apartment complexes and then rent us out for jobs. If any of us want to perform instead, he'll make that happen. What he's able to do for us, he will.”

  “Are you certain about that?”

  She looked distant, defeated. “I've got nothing else to believe in,” she said softly.

  They watched the dancers while sipping at their ciders. Occasionally, Mackenzie would point out another Beta and tell Ryan their name and what school they were from.

  “Have you been up against all of them?” Ryan asked and glanced down at his empty glass wondering where to put it. Mackenzie took it from his hand and gave a nod to one of the servers, who collected both glasses.

  “Would you like anything else?” the man asked her.

  Mackenzie turned to Ryan and lifted one of her eyebrows.

  “Maybe some champagne?” he asked.

  Mackenzie sighed but ordered them both glasses. “As long as you limit it to one glass, then I guess that's fine,” she said once the server had left. I don't like sloppy drunks or hung-over competitors.”

  “So noted.”

  “Good. And no, I haven't been up against all of them,” she said. “But some of the others have fought them, and you'll be amazed at how many of these parties you'll be attending from now on.”

  “Any advice for if I end up going against them?”

  “Don't lose and don't die.”

  The server returned with their glasses of champagne, and Mackenzie handed him his.

  “Have you ever had champagne before?” she asked.

  “Champagne's not really popular among the homeless teens of Darton, so this is a first for me.”

  Mackenzie actually chuckled a little. “Here's to firsts then,” she said and raised her glass.

  “To firsts,” Ryan echoed.

  Whether it was because she was missing her brother or because she had deemed most of the Belligerents present to not be a threat, Mackenzie's rule about one glass of champagne ended up changing to no more than four glasses, and when it came time for them to return to the hotel Shifter had to escort two tipsy teenagers back to the car.

  “I thought you didn't drink before matches, Mackenzie,” Shifter commented when Mackenzie insisted on rolling down the window to cool her flushed skin.

  “I've been doing a lot of things lately that I don't normally do. Besides, we're not drunk. This’ll wear off shortly after we get back,” Mackenzie said defensively.

  “You know I don't care what you do as long as you do your best in the matches,” Shifter said. “Besides, I think it's good to let off some steam every now and then. You should do so more often.”

  “We'll see. The world is a very nice place when you're a few glasses in,” Mackenzie admitted.

  Shifter chuckled. “What did you think of the party, Ryan? Was it as boring as I said it would be?”

  Ryan had drunk just enough to make himself sleepy and had been silent for most of the ride. “It was fun,” he replied. “Fire dancers are far from boring.”

  “Good to hear. You guys are set to compete in the tenth and twelfth matches. Should I wake you both around nine thirty? Even if all the other matches end quickly, that should still give us enough time to get there and for you two to warm up.”

  “Nine thirty sounds good,” Ryan said before Mackenzie could insist on an earlier wake up call.

  “I'll see you both in the morning then,” Shifter said and Ryan realized that they had pulled up in front of the hotel. “I believe I'm going to pay the hotel bar a visit and have a few drinks myself. Will you two be fine finding your rooms on your own?”

  “Really, Shifter,” Mackenzie said pulling herself out of the car. “We're tipsy. We're not incompetent.”

  “If you say so.”

  Despite what she had said once Shifter had disappeared from sight, Mackenzie looped an arm around Ryan's. “Let's find our rooms then. We'll need plenty of sleep before tomorrow.”

  Together they made their way to one of the elevators and up to the floor where their suites were located. As they walked down the halls, Ryan noticed that he was leaning a bit much of his weight on Mackenzie, but the girl hadn't said a word about it. She walked him to his suite door.

  “This is your stop,” she announced and released his arm. “Do you have your key?”

  He pulled the card out of his pocket. “Got it.”

  She took it from him and slid it through the slot until the door unlocked then handed it back to him. “I'll see you in the morning. Get some sleep.”

  Ryan stepped into his room then stopped and turned around. “Mackenzie, what I meant to say earlier was - you're beautiful and intelligent and amazing, even if you’re kind of stubborn and rude sometimes.”

  Mackenzie shook her head at him, but there was a hint of a smile playing at her lips. “Good night, Ryan.”

  Chapter 12

  “Don't forget what Eva taught you, and don't choke.” Mackenzie whispered to him in the locker room of the coliseum. She was testing the swords she had picked from the weaponry wall, running her finger up and down the blades in an almost subconscious manner.

  “I didn't think there would be so many of us here. When I first met Eva and Logan, they were the only Betas in their locker room.”

  “That's because Darton's in the middle of nowhere, and just because they finally got to host the games this past year doesn't mean that all the Owners are going to drag their teams out there.”

  Ryan glared at her. “That's my hometown you know. I grew up there.”

  Mackenzie shrugged. “My point exactly.”

  A roar above them indicated the end of the match. “Looks like I'm up,” Mackenzie sprung from the bench and took a moment to straighten her armor.

  “Good luck!” Ryan said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Luck is the last refuge of the incompetent,” Mackenzie said, but Ryan saw her hand flutter by the half-green, half-silver Gemini symbol painted on her armor. He had a good guess as to what it stood for.

  “You'll see. We always win.” She hesitated a moment. “We’ll talk about our victories over tea tonight,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  Mackenzie sighed. “Don’t laugh. It’s a thing.”

  “What’s a thing?”

  “Before we go out there, onto the sand, one person says, ‘We’ll talk about our victories over tea tonight.’ The other always replies, ‘And make tequila toasts to tomorrow’s fortunes.’ It’s something we came up with years ago, and-” Mackenzie trailed off looking horribly embarrassed that she had brought it up.

  “Say it, then.”

  “What?”

  “The thing.”

  Mackenzie looked as if she was waiting for him to make fun of her, but finally she said the words. “We’ll talk about our victories over tea tonight.”

  “And make tequila toasts to tomorrow’s fortunes,” Ryan replied.

  She smiled, and he wondered if he was imagining the faint blush that appeared on her face. “I’ve got to head out now.”

  Ryan followed behind her as she made her way to the sand and stood off to the side where Eva had stood during Logan's match. Mackenzie strolled out to the center of the arena in a way that made her look like the threat that Ryan knew she was and was greeted by cheers from the crowd. Several people in the audience held up signs with her name on them, but it didn't seem to faze her. She didn't even spare the audience a glance. Her entire focus was on her opponent, likely studying for any weaknesses. Ryan wondered if Mackenzie had ever fought the girl before. There were only so many Be
tas and with as many years as Mackenzie had been a Belligerent, the odds were that they had faced each other at least once before. If that were so, then Ryan felt the other girl really didn't stand a chance. Mackenzie wasn't the type of person to forget someone's weak points.

  Mackenzie's opponent was a lanky girl whose name, according to the announcer and a few signs, was Charlotte. She sported patches of white on her armor. Ryan vaguely recalled seeing her at the party, but she hadn't made much of an impression on him then. The signal for them to start sounded and Charlotte leapt forward with her strangely curved sword swinging wildly in the air. It was a sloppy move that made her look untrained. However, it soon became clear that Charlotte knew exactly what she was doing as swords clashed together causing sparks to fly through the air.

  Ryan had watched all his teammates train, and he knew Mackenzie was one of the weaker fighters on the team. However, that fact was difficult to believe as she continued to block each attack before taking a swing of her own which crashed into Charlotte's armor hard enough to tear into the material. That one critical blow gave Mackenzie the advantage. She took her time drawing out the match long enough for it to be entertaining before positioning herself to once more strike the now weak spot causing Charlotte to immediately fall to the ground in extreme, but not fatal pain.

  “Halt!”

  Mackenzie took three steps back, shoved both swords firmly in the sand, and held up her hands as she waited for the decision. There was no denying that something had her ticked off.

  “Victor is Mackenzie. Allotment is 44.”

  The crowd went wild. Mackenzie gave them a quick bow then went back to ignoring them as she retrieved the swords from the ground and carried them back to the locker room. Ryan had thought she would be pleased by her victory but instead she seemed frustrated.

  “What's wrong?” he asked, following her back to the locker room. “You don't look happy.”

  “They sent me up against a third year and a medic at that,” she muttered, placing both of her swords and the one Charlotte had picked back in the weapon inventory.

  “Charlotte's a third year?”

  “I'm pretty sure she is. I saw her with a couple of other third years drinking in a corner last night. Once you're past your first year, there's really no excuse to show up to a match with a hangover.”

  Apparently it was okay to drink as much as they had as long as there were no hangovers to contend with in the morning.

  “Is it normal for them to pit different years against each other?”

  “Depends on how skilled the younger ones are,” Mackenzie explained. “They try to make it an even match. Charlotte wasn't extraordinary at all, at least not this morning. It's insulting to think the judges considered her a match for me.”

  “At least you got a good amount of points for it.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” she said, turning her attention to her teammate. “How are you doing? Nervous? You're up after this match.”

  A guy had left their locker room a few minutes earlier and was engaged in a battle with some girl at the moment.

  “I wasn't until you reminded me,” he said.

  “You'll be fine. Eva's the best when it comes to combat training. She wouldn't say you were good to go if she wasn't sure. Did you find some nunchakus to use?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Let's find you some then.” Mackenzie took him over to the wall. “Eva would have made sure to call ahead and let them know what to have in stock. Just find what seems most familiar to what you've trained with.”

  Ryan took each of the weapons off the wall and weighed them carefully, performing some practice moves with each one until he finally felt comfortable with a pair. They didn't feel exactly like the ones he had been training with, though, as they lacked any signs of wear indicating many hours of use.

  “How do you do this?”

  “Do what?” Mackenzie asked. She had taken her hair out of its braid, running her fingers through the strands and was currently plaiting it back into its usual style.

  “Fight with a weapon that isn't yours.”

  Mackenzie shrugged. “You get used to it. Everyone would rather use their own weapon, but that's not an option here. We have to settle for whatever is on hand.”

  The announcer named the newest victor, and Ryan felt his stomach roil and shudder.

  “Looks like you're up. Don't die and don't lose,” she reminded him while motioning for him to head out to the sands.

  “I don’t get the tea and tequila promise.”

  Mackenzie shook her head with a grin. “That’s a one-time per pit game thing. If you say it more than once, it’s bad luck.”

  “Thought you didn’t believe in luck?”

  She shrugged and ignored his question. “Clarisse’s rule. Not mine.”

  Ryan felt some of his nerves ease off. Mackenzie must have been taking lessons from their informant on how to calm a person down.

  He smirked and said, “In case no one's told you, 'good luck' is a bit more encouraging than 'don't die'. Just for future reference.”

  “It is what it is. Hey! You're not going to be sick are you? Because puking in front of that crowd would be humiliating.”

  “Now we know why you're not the informant,” Ryan mumbled, but finally started walking toward the arena floor.

  “I'll be here waiting for you after you win.”

  That was a little more encouraging, at least. When the announcer said his name, Ryan stepped out onto the sand. Even through the jumble of voices, he could hear people saying “newcomer” and “Shifter.” It was intimidating. It was even more intimidating when he saw his opponent. Terra held herself as confidently in armor as she did in a dress that was slit up to the hips.

  “Hello, New Boy, looks like we get to play.” She stood there with her weapon in hand. A small anchor on a long chain dangled from her hand, and she swung it slowly back and forth.

  “You've got to be kidding me.”

  It was his first year and he was up against an eighth year and an informant. Granted, he figured informants were a little less talented at the physical combat than the other specialties, but this girl had been training for nearly a decade. There was no way he with his few months of training stood any chance. He wanted to glance over his shoulder to where he knew Mackenzie was watching. Would she have a plan for him? Could she shout and tell him what to do? Ryan knew not to take his eyes off of Terra. He knew enough to recognize that an informant's true strength rested in the fact that he or she would do whatever it took to win even if it meant fighting dirty.

  The announcer signaled for them to start, and Ryan braced himself. It was the first time he had truly realized the limitations of his weapon. He knew Terra's weapon had weaknesses as well, but she had the advantage at the start of their match when she stood far enough away to strike him without retaliation.

  She realized her advantage too and raised her anchor until she was swinging it in a circle above her head like a lasso. Ryan didn't think. He raced towards her. As long as he was moving, there was a good chance she wouldn't be able to hit him. Her first few throw missed, but she ran faster than she threw. As soon as Ryan had dodged her weapon and ran up to her, she had raced to a different part of the arena. It was a game of cat and mouse with the mouse dodging the cat at every turn.

  Suddenly, Eva having him run laps regularly made sense.

  The chase continued on for longer than anyone liked, including the audience. Though they did cheer each time the anchor nearly grazed him – likely hoping to see some of his blood on the sand.

  Though he was panting, a plan formed in his mind. He slowed to a more comfortable pace and decided to see how long it would take for Terra to tire herself out. Ryan supposed that even with daily practice, running and throwing an anchor at the same time would get tiring if one did it enough times in a row. Luckily, he was right, and after a while Terra's pace slowed as well. The moment he saw her lag, he sprinted forward and attacked. He slammed a nuncha
ku into her throwing arm and winced as Terra let out a choked noise. He didn't like hurting people, but he had no choice.

  Terra flashed a grin at him. “Did that sound convincing?” she asked cheekily before bringing a fist up to impact with his nose.

  Ryan didn't jump back though. Instead he kicked out and hit Terra directly in the knee. That time he was certain the pained noise erupting from Terra's lips was the real thing. She recovered quickly though and launched herself backwards trying to put some distance between them, but he attacked again with a blow to her stomach. She returned his attack with a kick to his chest that gave her the opportunity she needed to put some space between them once more.

  “Ryan!” A familiar voice screeched, and Ryan glanced up into the crowd.

  His eyes defocused, as if they didn’t trust the visual information. Despite all reason and comprehension, there sat Alex in the box reserved for Owners and their guests.

  She wore a Belligerent Band on her left wrist.

  “Alex!” he screamed.

  “Ryan, look out!” She pointed behind him, and he twirled around to see Terra lassoing her anchor above her head to throw it once more.

  Still recovering from the shock of seeing Alex, he jumped too late. The throw hooked him over the shoulder digging into his back. His armor seemed useless as the metal of the anchor pierced through. A quick tug on Terra's part forced the anchor further in until Ryan could do nothing more than gasp as the air fled from his lungs. When someone is stabbed in the back, they can't scream for the lack of air. Ryan remembered Eva saying that, and now he was experiencing it firsthand.

  His vision wavered as the agony lanced throughout his back.

  “When all else fails against a backstabber,” Eva’s voice rang through his mind, “just front them.”

  He knew he couldn’t fall – that would be the end of it and Shifter would certainly call a halt. He also didn’t want to disappoint his team, especially Mackenzie.

  With Eva’s simple advice on his mind, he dropped one of his nunchaku and grabbed hold of the chain, jerking it towards him. It was enough of a surprise that Terra stumbled forward, and Ryan took that small window to leap forward and bash his nunchaku into Terra's head. She fell immediately, unconscious before she ever hit the ground. Ryan stared in momentary horror at what he had done before a “Halt!” sounded over the arena.