Creatures

THIRTY-TWO

Jasper looked up as one of the Magdalena brothers slammed open the front door, breaking the lock.

"They found Christine," Micah said breathlessly, chest heaving, his hand against the doorjamb.

Jasper stood up so fast he moved the table, knocking many things onto the floor. "Where?" Ryn stood quickly as well. Elizabeth furrowed her brow, hanging up the phone absently, without ending the conversation.

"She's still in Denmark." He replied quickly. "She called from some random gas station. She said she was heading back to the barn. She got the medallion."

"The medallion?" Jasper asks, stunned.

"You saw that fight — he scratched her and she came out unscathed. She's something different." Micah says.

*

Chrissy picked at the athletic tape with her short nail, peeling it up and sticking the edge to her wrist. She quickly wound the tape around her left hand, unspooling it, whirling it through her fingers. She ripped the tape with her teeth, securing it to her hand, holding the end to warm the adhesive and have it stick better. Alex took the tape from her, and she offered her right hand to him. He repeated the process, holding onto her hand longer than strictly necessary to secure the end of the tape.

"You feeling good about this?" He asked.

"No," she murmured. Not like she had a choice. She rubbed the medallion over her lips, like she used to do with the silver diamond pendant. It was still around her neck. The medallion simply called to her more. It was magic, after all.

She looked to the other side of the ring. Her opponent had arrived through the large archway on the opposite side of the ring in the middle of the bleachers. James was flanked by his two higher-ups, wearing his obnoxious light colored suit. The woman had Tristan, blindfolded and gagged. Chrissy saw his face and lost all sense. Alex had to grab her around the waist to prevent her from taking off and entering the ring before it was time.

"Tristan!" She cried.

His head lifted, and he yanked hard on the woman holding onto him.

She didn't seem too inclined to hold onto him. So when he fell to the ground and tore off his bindings, no one stopped him. When he took off for Chrissy, no one stopped him. She was nearly knocked off her feet, but he mustered up enough strength to pick her up instead, swing her around. Tristan dug his fingers into her, into her hair, into her back.

"I am so fucking mad at you and so fucking proud of you." He muttered into her neck.

"I love you, too." She whispered.

The burst of energy was too much. She slipped from his grasp onto the ground. She got him to sit on the bleachers. Water was quickly fetched and Ryland and Chrissy tended to him. The more wounds and bruises she saw, the angrier she became.

"King James McCormick has been contested by Christine Heroux,"

Chrissy stood upon hearing the voice, facing the center of the ring.

"After successfully ambushing the king and and taking the medallion, Heroux is entitled to a fight for the crown. The rules are as follows. Both shall enter the ring. When the bell is rung, the fight will begin. No changing of form will be allowed, and will result in immediate forfeit."

Murmurs broke out across the stadium.

Christine couldn't care less. She'd beat his ass, monster or human. She stalked to the center of the ring, stripping her shirt along the way and throwing it to the side. James was still anxiously talking to his lackeys.