“Suicide? In front of a crowd? No thanks.”

We stare at one another for a long moment. Finally he blinks. “We’ll watch. Maybe you can at least absorb some of the strategy and when you gather enough courage we can come back.”

That little jab goes nowhere. All I want is to get out of here. Away from the lure of magic and the blood-thirsty crowd, but I’m curious enough not to walk out the door. The magnetic pull of clashing forces drags me back.

“Two matches,” I say.

“Three?”

“We’ll see.”

He graces me with one of those rare smiles, followed by a brief but toe-curling kiss. I follow him to a sliver of bench with a good view of the ring and the crowd around me. After a moment I lean into him and ask, “Who are all these people?”

“It’s probably not a surprise to you that if gods and goddesses and ancient magic exist, then so do other supernatural beings.”

I stare at him for a second. “This actually does come as a surprise.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah, I guess?” But of course that’s stupid. I’ve seen enough in the last month to know that my grip on what’s normal is flimsy at best. The raven friends I’d made and forgotten as a child were real. They’re my guardians, assigned to me because I carry a smidge of the ancient Goddess of War in my soul. I narrow my eyes. “What are we talking about here?”

“Various beings. Angels, demons, demi-gods, Nephiliam…a little bit of everything.”

“Angels.”

He nods. “Yes.”

“What’s a Nephiliam?”

“Fallen angels…back in ancient times, they bred with the daughters of man and created Nephiliam. Basically, a human-angel hybrid. They’re vicious warriors.”

I glance around the room trying to figure out who is who, but everyone just looks like regular people, just like Clinton and I. Other than some incredibly attractive people, with striking features and intimidating physiques, I can’t find identifying markers. “And you all come here to fight?”

“Sure. It’s no fun to fight a human. Not fair either. It’s a good way to blow off some steam.” Clinton’s hair falls over his ear and I reach up to tuck it back in place. A shadow falls over us and we both look up to find a woman with braided blonde hair standing before us. She wears a flirty, dangerous smile and holds out a bottle of beer in Clinton’s direction.

“Brought you a drink,” she says, eyes never acknowledging me. “I owed you one for last time.”

I notice the way his eye brow lifts, just a little, and the way his eyes take her in. I can’t be sure it’s out of interest. He’s a Guardian after all, his job is to assess those around me, but I’m not sure how I feel about the tone of their exchange.

“Thank you,” he says taking the drink. “How have you been?”

She raises her arms over her head, flexing her muscles and lifting her ample breasts inches from his face. Good grief.

“Pretty good. I haven’t seen anyone interesting sign up tonight. It will probably be pretty lame. Unless you’re fighting.” Her blue eyes flare. “Will I see you in the ring?”

“No,” he says, taking a sip of the beer.

“No? One of your brothers?”

“Not tonight. We just came to enjoy the show.”

At last her eyes skirt over me when he says ‘we’. The blue is so cold I nearly feel the air shift in temperature. “Oh well, I guess you’ll have to settle for cheering me on. I’m up in a bit.”

“Good luck, Hildi, but I doubt you’ll need it.”

She smiles at the compliment and walks off.

“Uh, what was that all about?” I ask, noticing he’s put the beer on the floor.

Tags: Angel Lawson The Raven Queen's Harem Fantasy
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