Page 9 of Hostile Holiday

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

His eyes widened. “First, we fight, and then, I will explain the reference.”

* * * *

Orla looked at the wolfman and lifted her sword. She asked, “What happens if I get blood on your fur?”

He shrugged. “I will ask you to help wash it out.” He crouched slightly with his claws out.

She matched his posture. “Fine, but don’t shake.”

He huffed a laugh, the gong rang, and they collided.

Her leather was in shreds, and her left arm had taken hundreds of hits. She was exhausted and knew that he was toying with her. She pulled back and muttered, “I thought toying with prey was a cat thing.”

He huffed and said, “Well, if you want it over with...”

She brought up her sword, but he lunged in, lifted her in the air, and slammed her flat on her back.

Pain shot through her, and her breath left her lungs and seemed to have no interest in returning. She thrashed around, but air wasn’t coming. Orla felt herself turning blue, but then, he put his hand on her chest, and air rushed in.

She wheezed, and he lifted her, cradling her against him as he stood and walked from the arena. She looked up and saw the red glow around her image.

He was holding her carefully, and she wheezed. “Where are we going?”

“You were supposed to be my guest, Orla. You were not supposed to be in the arena.”

“Yeah, that was figured out after I signed on to the arena.” Her voice was a rasp. “Why didn’t you do that to start?”

“Oh, you have worked hard, and I did not want to disrespect your efforts.” He didn’t look down at her. He wouldn’t have been able to see her without cocking his head sharply.

“Gee. Thanks.”

He chuckled. “Do you have any items that you wish brought to the palace?”

Shock hit her, but she blurted out, “My books!”

He paused. “Books?”

“I have been buying a grimoire a day, and my patrons have sent stuff.”

He chuckled and let out a low huff. Telurn walked toward them, “Yes, sir?”

“Bring her new library to the palace. I want her out of here.”

“Yes, sir.”

He carried her, and she continued wheezing as he walked.

“Are you still hurt?”

“Not really, but it is like my lungs have forgotten what they are supposed to do.”

He huffed. “Sorry. I acted on instinct.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Effective instincts.”

“They have gotten me this far.”

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