Vanished by John Shepard, Danielle Cloakey Page B

returned the hug. She patted his back and released him, walking back to the mat for her next match. Realizing all eyes were on her, she took a deep breath, trying not to let fear creep in.
    Xteral stepped forward, his thin, recurve-bow lips twisted into a grimace, sharp, hazel eyes locked on her face. His protruding jaw line worked and she knew his teeth were gritted. He’d be more of a challenge. His stance, solid as a rock, wouldn’t be easy to take down without excessive force.
    He didn’t bounce; he stood, expression doctored into impassive granite. She shook her limbs, settling into a calm that put her mind at ease. Her eyes assessed his stance again, and the answer smashed into her with the force of a brick wall.
    With a deep breath, she edged closer to him, his attentive stare disconcerting. She dashed past him, rolling on the mat. He turned to her, his confusion clear. Getting her feet, she leaped at him. One leg slammed into his gut, the other she closed behind his knees. With a sharp shout, she brought her weight down. He hit the floor with a solid crack . She straddled his chest, her knife to his throat. His wide, golden green eyes filled with respect and fury. She held him for a second until his fury eased. With legs trembling from exertion, she backed off, replacing her blade.
    She offered her hand, helping him to his feet. He gave her an awkward handshake once the ground was solid under his feet again.
    He released her grip and hurried off the mat.
    She glared around, wondering who would challenge her next. Camter pushed forward, and inwardly, she groaned, careful not to give away anything in her expression. Camter was taller than most, and stockier. Those rough features twisted into a smile, and she knew he sensed her worry, which put her at a severe disadvantage.
    Shaking her tiring muscled out agai n, she jolted. He rushed at her. She thought fast. An awkward sidestep. Her hand gripped his belt. She leaned back, her muscles screaming as his weight flung him into an airborne circle around her pivoting point. The full circle halted as her arms refused to hold his weight and his body curled around hers. She dropped him, his weight pulling her body down on his chest, her trusty knife to his heart.
    He laughed, and the bite of steel slashed along her lower back. Her back arched away from the bite of steel. She hissed in pain, driving her knife into his flesh. He winced, and Radek cut in, ripping her from Camter’s chest.
    “She got you, Camter. Heart stab beats a kidney removal.” Radek set her on her feet, and she sensed the satisfaction from Camter as he stood, a rivulet of blood flowing down his ribs.
    “Hell, I’m the first to deal her any damage, I’d say that’s a victory.” He offered her his hand. “Blood sister, I’ll protect you until my last breath.”
    She took his hand, shaking it with a nod. “Blood brother, I’ve got your back until my demise.” A ripple of whispers caught like wildfire through the crowd, halting as abruptly as they arose. She mirrored his motions as he wiped the blood from his knife along his wrist, leaving a crimson smear of her lifeblood on his flesh. They replaced their blades and he gave her a quick hug before scurrying off the mat.
    The blazing pain up her back dulled, and she noticed the eyes of the men traveling past her. Her teeth clenched. The next person was ready. Without needing to size him up, she spun and launched herself at his core, knowing his weakness.
    Radek caught her. She wound her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. He froze, and her legs dropped free, yanking his head down with her weight. They fell back, her thighs parting to grip his hips and something flashed in her mind.
    His reaction, obvious through the suit, terrified her. Her mind snapped to Kred’s face over her, and sh e yelped. A knife stung in the side of her ribs, and she struck out. The knife left her, and hands clamped on her wrists, weight holding her