Page 105 of Court of Evil

I need to get a better look at this, so I head down and blend into the crowd, watching amongst them as they gather around the mats where Tate and the hunter face off. She bows out of respect, but he spits at her feet, and I know he will pay for his disrespect. Some of the crowd cheers him on, booing her. She doesn’t let it show, but I know it hurts her. She has given her life to these hunters, so the disrespect is insane. She has faced more than most due to her gender as it is, but she showed them time and time again that she deserves her status, and now they are back to judging her and tearing her down.

This is necessary to remind them who she is.

She waits for him to move, and he doesn’t disappoint. He’s acting on anger, thinking he’s in the right, but it makes him clumsy and stupid. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s trained and could kick most people’s asses, but she is not most people.

She ducks under his punches then dances out of the way, letting him tire himself out.

Her movements are fluid, and she dodges before they can even react, leaving him standing there as she dances circles around him. Tate is playing with him, and he knows it. It infuriates him, his face twisting as he lashes out angrily.

His movements start to slow as the crowd laughs at him, and that’s when she strikes. Slipping under his guard, she sweeps his leg out, knocking him down and into her waiting knee. His head slams into it, and he’s unconscious before he even hits the mat.

She steps over his body and faces the crowd, which is now silent.

“Anyone else?” she calls.

At least six other hunters step forward, and she grins. “Fine, but I don’t have a lot of time, so let’s make this quick and take care of all of you at once.”

She gestures for them to step onto the mat, and they share looks and nods as they circle her, ready to attack.

“Wait, wait . . .” She holds up her hand, and the crowd laughs, thinking she’s scared, but I see amusement in her gaze. “Let’s make this interesting, shall we?” She pulls her shirt up and off, exposing her sports bra and creamy marred skin, then she wraps it around her eyes as a blindfold. “There, now it’s almost even. Let’s begin.”

She waits with her hands at her sides, her gloves off. They hesitate only for a moment before diving at her two at a time. She ducks under a punch and knocks someone else’s leg away. They stumble backwards, but another launches at her back. She spins, and he flies past her.

Mid spin, she catches the leg of a man aiming a brutal kick at her stomach, and she uses it to yank him closer, smashing her forehead into his. He falls backwards, hitting the floor hard, and she pounces on him, slamming her fist into his face twice before knocking him out then rolling away to avoid a boot. Sliding up behind them, she slaps the edge of her hand between one’s shoulder and neck, and when he crumples, she grips another’s neck and knocks him out. There’s a yell as two run at her again, and she chuckles as she ducks under their attacks. They become brutal, trying to kill her, but when she ducks from between them, they hit each other instead and go down in a tangle of limbs, leaving only two left.

They are smarter and more patient. They circle her, and she tilts her head, listening as her body relaxes. Unlike most, she has virtually no telltale signs on when she will act. I only notice the slight twist of her fingers before she leaps, but to others, it would be unnoticeable. She pivots, kicks into the air, and slams her footacross one of their faces. He goes down hard, knocked out before they hit the mat, and she rolls under the second, coming up behind him and swinging her legs around his neck. She flips him into the mat and follows him down, her hands on his cheeks as she smashes his head into it over and over until he stops moving.

Climbing to her feet, she waits for a moment before tugging her blindfold off to see them all unconscious or groaning around her.

Not one of them touched her.

The crowd cheers for her now, and none are louder than her monsters who clap and whistle the loudest. She winks at them, and I step onto the mat. “I challenge you.”

Shock ripples around the crowd as she gapes at me. I have never challenged anyone. I don’t even spar with hunters here, since I’m too busy and don’t want to lose face, but they need to see that I won’t go easy on her and that she’s earned my loyalty.

Stepping onto the mat, I tug my shirt off and toss it to the side so I’m in nothing but my trousers and socks. Her eyes narrow on me as I wait.

“Unless you’re scared, angel?”

“Of you? You wish. You’ve gone soft sitting behind a desk. Stalker? More like staller,” she says, stepping back into the middle. I join her, standing opposite, and we bow to each other before her feet slide back and her hands come up. Unlike with the others, she’s serious and more hesitant.

She knows I’m strong, and she’s not about to lose face by underestimating me. Luckily for me, I know how she fights, and I know exactly what to expect—or at least I think I do as I rush her. She dances back, avoiding my punches, before I feint left and bring my right fist up in a brutal jab.

Her head jerks to the side with the blow. I hold nothing back, giving her my full strength, and when she turns back to me, she spits her blood in my face. It blinds me for a moment, then she’son me, utilising that weakness. It’s dirty fighting, and I can’t help but smile.

That’s my fucking girl.

We hit the mat hard, and she manages to land four good punches before I buck her off, and she gets back to her feet.

She stands before me, panting, and smiles. Narrowing my eyes, I reach up and find my cheek split and bleeding.

She’s the first person to ever land a hit on me.

Climbing to my feet, I suck my fingers clean of the blood, not allowing a drop to fall. You can never be too careful. Blood is a life force, and in the wrong hands, it can be used for anything. She doesn’t care as she eyes me.

“Come on!” someone yells.

She glances to the right, a rookie mistake, and I sweep her legs out. She goes down hard, but she flips to her front, gripping the mat. Holding her hips, I yank her back, and she rolls and kicks me in the face. I fall back, and she snarls at me as she climbs to her feet. She’s panting and mad as I dive at her, knocking her back. Her fists hammer into my back before she wraps her body around me and flips us, throwing me across the mat. I recover as fast as I can to see her standing once more. She knows she’s losing, and she can’t have that. Her eyes dart away for a second, and I see it the moment she does—her shirt.

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