I jumped to my feet and continued our dance. Darting. Swiping. Dodging. For the next ten minutes, we moved around each other as though we both knew what the other would do by instinct.
The crowd grew restless, jeering as we hopped around each other.
“You’re boring your fans,” I heckled him. “And here I thought you were going to actually challenge me.”
He scoffed, his hand rubbing his chin. He grinned hungrily, then in a blink he spun, his leg swiping mine, dropping me to the ground, stirring the throng of viewers with energy. He leaped for me. Rolling out of his way, my boots jutted out, smashing into his face. A gasp echoed from the crowd as Warwick stumbled back, his hand going to his face.
It was as if the world paused. Everyone went silent as he wiped the blood from his nose and lip, staring down at his palm, shocked I was quick enough to strike.
His eyes rose, meeting mine.
Fury.
Wrath.
Fire lit his eyes. He’d gone easy on me before. Not anymore.
A spike of adrenaline rushed through my veins, and I popped back up to my feet. He moved with such haste I barely had time to respond. Jumping to the side, his hand crashed into my torso, slamming into my kidney. Falling sideways, I hit the ground, rolling through the dirt.
Pain chomped down on my nerves, but my adrenaline smoothed it out like a numbing gel, letting me leap back up to my feet.
He had every advantage. He was bigger, stronger, and possibly even faster.
Use your weakness as an advantage. I could hear Bakos in my ear. I was weaker, smaller, and bony…not easy things to use as an advantage.
Warwick darted for me, his huge frame dwarfing mine.
Smaller. Use it! Bakos yelled in my head.
Instinct dropped me to my knees, shrinking and bending my form to fit under his legs. My fist plowed into his crotch. A roar exploded through the arena, his body toppling over, crashing to the ground clutching himself. It wasn’t the most respectable fight move, but this was to the death. I would use what I could. “You must also use what you don’t have to your advantage,” Bakos used to say. So I had. A punch to the dick.
Getting up, trying to find anything I could use, my gaze landed on a single lit torch hanging by the gate where I had come out.
Racing across, my legs and arms pumping, I reached out for the torch as a hand clamped down on my shoulder, yanking me back.
Crunch! My bones hit the ground, shoving air roughly out of my mouth.
Fuck. He really was similar to a wraith, sneaking up silently and quickly.
Standing over me, glaring down, he watched me, not moving to finish the job or take advantage of my position. What the hell? What fighter didn’t take advantage of an enemy’s vulnerable moment?
My lids narrowed. He could snap me in half right now. Game over. But even as the crowd chanted for my death, his gaze subtly went back up, like he was searching for something. What was he waiting for?
And what the fuck are you waiting for, Brex? Get. Up, I yelled at myself.
Confused at his lack of action, I clambered to my feet and backed away. The viewers disapproved of my escape, but my focus was entirely on Warwick, blocking out the rest of the world.
He plucked the torch from its clamp, twirling the flaming stick in his hand like a baton. “Want this?”
We stared at each other, his nose and mouth still bleeding; a gash cut across his eyebrow and over his nose.
“Come and get it, then.” He held it out enough for me to grab. Not moving, I tried to work out different scenarios in my head and predict what his move would be.
Everything felt off—like he was trying to stall. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” It sounded more like a taunt than a question. “I’m offering you a weapon against me. Even after you punched me in the nuts.” He grabbed himself, flinching as he adjusted himself. “Level out the playing field.”
“No.” Warning prickled the back of my neck. “You’re not. Now fight me. Stop playing.”
He leaned forward. “I haven’t even begun to start playing with you.”
Air sucked up my nose, and I stepped back, feigning a dash to the side, but he seemed to know exactly my move, matching it.
He started chuckling. “Try again, Kovacs.” His breath brushed down my neck. “Now, really run.”