We all are. I’ll live in this collar, and I’ll rot with it once I’m dead and soaked into the ground like water saturated into dense soil.
But I won’t let that be her fate.
I watch as Jetta moves in, taking Perry off guard and sending a right hook straight into his cheek. A strong, sure hit that would’ve taken out anyone else, but unfortunately, Perry just absorbs it. Spit and blood fly out of his mouth in a drizzle and some of the vampires are crude enough to open their mouths for it in hopes that it might land on their tongues.
Now cornering her, Perry counters with a kick, and although she tries to sidestep it, she’s stuck between two bodies on either side of her and nowhere to go.
His foot aims for her kneecap, and my breath hisses out as I watch it like it’s going in slow-motion, because I know that if it connects, her kneecap will be shattered. Shifters might heal quickly, but this injury can’t happen. Not tonight.
As I watch, horrified and helpless, Jetta suddenly leaps in the air, her hands snagging the curtain behind her, and then she twists her whole body, using the fabric to her advantage as she gains momentum and swings herself back toward Perry.
In a move that would make any gymnast jealous, she flips, spinning in a graceful arc, and somehow manages to make both airborne feet collide with his temple. His entire body snaps to the left from the razor sharp blows aimed with deadly precision, and then she’s landing on top of him, throwing his body off-kilter.
Perry goes down hard. The back of his head takes on the full assault of her attack, and just like that, he’s out cold.
The crowd erupts like an overdue volcano, filled with a turbulent inferno. It’s so loud that the force of it nearly knocks me back.
Jetta stands up straight, shoulders back, looking out into the crowd like a battered and bloodied warrior queen, watching her subjects as they cheer or jeer.
She doesn’t like the attention.
Even though attention is all she knows, and even though she’s been in Kaazu’s possession since she was a baby and was raised for a life on the stage, she hates this part of it. Fighting, dancing, acrobatics, gymnastics, and everything in between? She excels at all of that. But being forced to do it in front of an audience night after night makes her cringe.
She has nothing to be embarrassed about though. She’s beautiful. Even with her scowl as she looks out across the crowd, she’s mesmerizing.
You wouldn’t have guessed that she’d turn into such a beauty when she was a kid. She was all gangly limbs, bilious white skin, and a permanent glower. She wasn’t a pretty child. She wasn’t even a pleasant one.
But she was tough.
She would face down Master Kaazu even when she was just a scrawny little thing that only came up to his waist. I liked that. She had guts. The kind that usually only comes when I use my power. She never needed a boost from me though. I liked that too.
While the audience continues their storm of voices, Jetta holds perfectly still as she stares straight ahead. It’s almost eerie how unmoving she is. She doesn’t have any nervous habits. No biting her nails or nibbling on her bottom lip or shifting her feet. I suspect all of her fidgeting habits were corrected years ago.
Eyes skimming over the crowd, I feel emotions rising up like spires on a cathedral. Arrogance, pride, anger, elation...they hit me like pellets from a gun, and I’m so tired, so drained, that I’m forced to snap all the lines I’ve cast out at once, or else be in danger of passing out.
Usually, I’d pull back my power with much more finesse. I’d let the forced confidence drift away from each person slowly, like a bobber resting on the rippling surface of the water. I’d disengage the lines gently, little by little, until I was free of strings altogether. But I’m overtaxed. Wrung out. So much so that stars float over my eyes like black bursts of a stormy abyss, and I have to pinch my own skin to stay upright.
Blinking hard, I force my gaze over to Master Kaazu...only to find him staring right back at me.
A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it down like a rock in my gut. Those dark eyes of his watch me