He snorts. “She’s got these . . . claws.”

I stop and he swings, hitting me softly in the cheek. He gives me a whoopsie look.

“Explain claws?”

He looks hesitant.

“Now, Damon.”

“She’s got enhanced claws.”

I don’t feel so well.

“Enhanced?”

“She’s had some freaky fucking operation. You know how some people can actually get fake horns in their skulls?”

“Yessss . . .”

“Well . . . she got fake claws.”

“You’re joking, right?” I say, feeling my stomach turn.

“No, I’m not joking. The woman is crazy, like a cat on roids.”

“Roids?”

“Steroids.”

“Great. What chance have I got up against a mental cat woman with fake claws?” I cry, dropping down into a squat and cupping my head in my hands.

“You’ve got a chance. She’s a big girl, Blair, and she’s slow. You’re super quick. If you’re careful, you can have her down in a timely manner.”

“Seriously?” I bark, looking up at him. “You’re such a liar.”

He frowns. “I’m not lying.”

“I can’t have her down in a timely fucking manner, she’s got fake claws, for Christ’s sakes.”

He chews on his lower lip. “Okay, so maybe it won’t be timely.”

“She’ll gouge my eyes out.”

He looks ill.

“Then she’ll probably poke holes in my face.”

He scrunches up his lips.

“She’ll—”

“Okay,” he says, throwing his hands up. “I’ll do the best I can to help you, but I can’t promise you’re not going to have to go into that ring with her.”

I swallow and turn away, unable to shake the sick feeling in my stomach.

“Then teach me how to avoid her hands, at least get a few solid shots in.”

“That I can do,” he says. “Let’s get to it.”

I sigh and turn back to him.

Even with him teaching me, I just don’t know if it’ll be enough.

The sound the crowd is making is deafening. There are triple the people at this fight than my last. Damon has been training me for two solid days, teaching me the best moves he can to keep me clear of Fire Cat’s claws. It doesn’t take away the nauseating feeling in my stomach at the thought that I’m going up against someone who has a goddamned weapon. It shouldn’t be allowed, but this is illegal fighting after all.

Roger is beside me, snarling rules into my ear that I can’t hear. All I want to do is beat him and throw him in the ring with the crazy cat lady, but I can’t. I can only pray that Dimitri shows up. I’ve been searching the crowd for him, or Hendrix, or someone, but so far there’s nothing—no familiar faces, no hope for me to hold on to.

“Are you listening to me?” Roger barks.

“I’m fucking listening,” I snarl, shoving through the people.

“You need to be paying attention. If you look away for even a second she’ll have you.”

“I heard you!”

He takes me into the back room where the long process of getting prepared starts. I’m dressed, my hands are bound and my hair is pulled back. Damon comes in looking worried just before I’m about to go out.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, staring at nothing.

“Damon . . .”

He turns back to me. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t look convinced and suddenly I feel sick. Roger takes my arm just as I hear the sounds of the man on the microphone introducing the fight. My legs seem to halt as realization kicks in. He’s going to make me fight. Dimitri isn’t here. This girl could damage my face permanently.

“I can’t,” I cry, struggling.

Roger turns around and he slaps me hard across the face.

“You can and you fucking will. You don’t get a choice.”

“Rex!” Damon barks. “You want her to win?”

“You know I fucking do,” Roger snarls.

“Then you fuckin’ keep your hands off.”

They have a glaring contest before Roger turns to me. Then he reaches into his pants and pulls out a gun. He’s got the cold metal pressed to my head before I can even flinch.

“You have two choices. Fight or die. You want to fuckin’ die, I’ll kill you right here.”

“Put that down,” Damon snarls.

Roger ignores him.

My entire world begins to spin at the feeling of having a gun to my head. I begin to shake and sweat trickles down my cheek.

“F-f-f-f-fight,” I whisper.

“What’s that?” he yells, pressing the gun into my flesh harder.

“Fight!” I scream.

He grins and puts the gun back into his pocket.

“That’s what I thought.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Jess

I stare at Fire Cat as we wait in the ring for the final countdown. My heart is thudding and I can’t help but stare at her hands. Damon was right, she’s got these claws coming out of her fingertips. They’re two inches long at least and they look lethal; I don’t know how she manages to do anything with them on. She’s a bigger girl, Damon was right about that too, and she’s got fiery red hair.