Page 68 of Revenant

Idon’t fight as Jameson drags me into the cavern where the others are waiting. From the looks we receive, varying from worried to bloodthirsty, my suspicions are confirmed—it’s a trap.

How original.

The number of soldiers is doubled, and I don’t miss that the two guards from the lab this morning are present, their expressions smug. I suspect that when Crystal offered to fight us, they didn’t protest much.

While the fight might be rigged, that doesn’t mean I can’t win it. It’s better this fight takes place in public rather than risk being cornered in private and shanked in the back.

“Since you finally deigned us with your presence, why don’t you join us for the first match?” The asshole who stood back while Gordan tried to barbeque me is glaring at us, but I don’t miss the gleeful anticipation in his eyes at the prospect of blood being shed.

Crystal clings to the man provocatively, practically curled around him as she pets his arm. The smirk on her face is smug, and my hackles rise at how she ogles the guys from under her lashes and licks her lips in anticipation, as if the battle has already been decided.

Gordan stands next to them, his arms crossed, a scowl on his face. Since he is getting exactly what he wants, I’m unsure why he’s so pissed. I squeeze Jameson’s hand and take a step toward the mats when the guard’s grin widens.

“Not you.” He dismisses me with a flick of his eyes, then he points to Hicks. “You first.”

Hicks doesn’t even hesitate to saunter forward, his stride confident as he steps onto the mat. It’s all I can do not to lunge forward, snatch his arm, and beg him not to go. When Gordan stalks forward and faces off against him, I anxiously wring my hands.

The only reason I survived my fight with Gordan was my ability to heal fast.

Hicks was just human yesterday. He doesn’t know the full extent of his abilities yet, and my stomach churns at the thought of him being so vulnerable. If this were a normal fight, he would win, hands down.

This fight is anything but normal.

“Babe, you know that I hate waiting.” Crystal pouts, peering up at the guard and fluttering her lashes. Her hand is curled around his arm, and I can almost see the glazed look enter his eyes. “Why don’t we make things interesting? Gordan and me against the whore and one of her men?”

A cruel smirk curls the corner of the guard’s lips, and I suspect it didn’t take much convincing for him to agree. Heck, she probably didn’t even have to use her abilities for him to approve her request.

“Wonderful idea, little pet,” he murmurs, his hand slipping down the back of her head before he grips her neck almost brutally, then he shoves her toward the training mats. She glares at him, a nasty scowl twisting her features, before she whirls and faces me with a confident bounce in her step. Her grin is a little too wide, a little too manic, and a lot cocky. No doubt the bitch is used to winning when she can just order her opponent to remain still as she beats them.

She’s power hungry, the guard’s little pet, and she doesn’t like the idea of being replaced. I’m not interested in her spot at the top of the food chain, but I doubt she would believe me. People like her don’t understand others who don’t crave power. To them, people are either predators or prey.

Crystal prances onto the mats like she’s walking a runway. The deluded fool acts like she’s in charge, but I know without a doubt that the doctor doesn’t see us as anything but test subjects for his sickening experiments.

Maybe it’s a coping mechanism for her, the need to be in charge of something, but I was raised with such brutality, and everything inside me shudders in revulsion at the thought of becoming like my captors.

All eyes turn toward me, waiting for me to step forward. Gunner growls, clearly wanting to slaughter everyone for allowing such things to happen. Ellis watches the spectators with narrowed eyes, possibly trying to gauge the odds of us leaving in one piece if we try to run for it. Jaceson leans forward and kisses the back of my neck, the action so unexpected that I shiver at the intimate touch.

Jameson nudges me toward the mats, whooping in excitement when I face off against Crystal. “Kill them, pookie! Rip their souls right out of their body.”

My stride hitches at the very real possibility of that happening. I would roll my eyes at the idiot for putting that thought into my head, but he’s just too cute, cheering for me.

“The rules are simple—the first person to knock out their opponents wins.” As I step over the boundary lines painted on the mat, the guard’s voice rings out once more. “Begin.”

The word barely leaves his mouth before Gordan tosses a fucking fireball right toward Hicks. I tense, practically vibrating with anxiety. I don’t even have a chance to shout a warning when I see Hicks already moving.

Fuck! He’s fast!

“Watch your six,” Hicks snarls at me, and I turn just in time to see Crystal stalking toward me wielding one of the guards’ batons. Because why play fucking fair?

She lunges toward me like it’s a sword aimed at my torso. I twist, knocking the plastic stick to the side with my arm so hard that pain reverberates through my bones. Crystal doesn’t back off, lunging again and again, becoming more frustrated each time she fails to land a blow. Jameson yells comments and advice from the sidelines, throwing punches like he’s fighting his own opponent.

One blow gets lucky, the prongs of the stun gun brushing against the outside of my shoulder, and I grit my teeth when it feels like I’ve been lit up from within by a lightning bolt. A growl escapes me—I must be spending too much time around the guys—and I shake off the near debilitating pain.

I’ve seen the guards take down a patient with those batons. They are military grade, specially built to release a burst of electricity with enough power to knock a grown man off their feet. When I don’t flop around on the ground like a fish on dry land, Crystal hisses like a feral cat and swings it at me like a baseball bat.

I catch it in my hand, my palm smarting from the brutal smack of plastic, then I bunch up my other fist and clock her across the face. She stumbles back with a surprised yelp, nearly tripping over her own feet. My knuckles ache, but it’s a good pain.

Movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I yelp when I see a fireball flying toward my face. I twist to the side, knowing I’m going to be too late, when Hicks catches me around the waist and spins us.

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