started to take a step toward him when Dabbler slammed his cane against a small gong set next to the chair. The sound echoed through the room loud enough to make several demons flinch.
“Ready?” He motioned Chaaya toward the center of the room.
“What are the rules?” she asked, feeling the familiar tingles of magic from her spear as she strolled toward the starburst created by the gold and amber mosaic tiles.
“The rules are that there are no rules,” Dabbler informed her.
“Ah. My kind of fight.” She twirled the spear, crouching low. “Let’s play, Turd-head.”
The orc released a bark of annoyance, but he wasn’t so infuriated that he forgot to grab a heavy wooden cudgel from one of his ugly cohorts.
“Tur,” he growled, stomping toward her. “Me Tur. You Cha Cha.”
The orc rambled to the center of the room, loosely holding the cudgel in one hand. He looked big and awkward and stupid as a box of rocks. But Chaaya wasn’t fooled. The moment he started his fierce charge, he moved with a fluid speed that caught most demons off guard.
Twisting aside, she easily avoided his attack. At the same time, she carefully watched the cunning expression that settled on his blunt face. He had a strategy. One that had no doubt worked a thousand times before.
With a hungry grin, he charged again, acting as if it was going to be the same as the last one. Then, at the last possible moment, he swung his cudgel.
There was a whistling sound as the weapon sliced through the air, aimed directly at her head. The crowd gasped, no doubt expecting to be splattered with blood and brains. But already anticipating the move, Chaaya easily leaped over the cudgel, slashing her spear to slice off the tip of his ear.
The orc skidded to a halt, his hand raised to cover his wounded ear. The skin of orcs was too thick for most blades to penetrate, but her spear was enhanced with magic. She still needed to stab him in the heart to kill him, but he was definitely distracted. And pissed off.
Exactly what she wanted.
“Cha Cha,” he snarled.
“Did you say you want to cha-cha?” she taunted. “I prefer a partner who doesn’t have two left feet, but I suppose you’ll do.”
He raised the cudgel over his head. “Me bash you.”
Chaaya wiggled her fingers in a “come here” motion. “Let’s dance.”
He charged again, this time swinging his club in an upward motion as he anticipated Chaaya leaping over it. That was the problem with orcs. They had no imagination.
Waiting until the last possible second, Chaaya ducked low, sticking her spear between his legs. The oversized creature cried out as he tripped over the weapon, falling on his face with a ground-shaking impact.
Chaaya swiftly straightened, intending to leap on the orc and put an end to the fight. But a flicker out of the corner of her eye warned her that an idiot from the peanut gallery was about to do a sneak attack.
Spinning with blinding speed, Chaaya kicked out, catching the mongrel on the side of the head. The creature was knocked to his knees, and without hesitation, Chaaya sliced him open from stomach to throat. The creature’s skin wasn’t nearly as thick as a regular orc’s, and the blade slid through like a hot knife through butter.
The room went silent as the mongrel gazed down in horror. Blood and a few vital organs spilled out of the wound, landing on the marble floor with an audible plop. The creature gave a keening cry as he leaped to his feet and dashed for the nearest exit. Chaaya glanced around, silently daring the rest of the booster club to jump in. As one, they all stepped back.
Slowly she turned to see Tur advancing with wary steps. “Tired of game,” he muttered.
So was Chaaya. Although she continued to smile and weave the spear in an elegant series of figure eights, she could feel her strength draining away. The sooner she could end the fight, the better.
But how?
The orc might be stupid, but he wasn’t suicidal. He wouldn’t use a direct assault that might leave any vulnerable spots available to her spear. Not when he could simply use his cudgel to keep her at a distance and wait for a lucky strike.
It was the near-blinding glitter from the tiled floor that offered a sudden inspiration.
“We just started,” she taunted, stepping back.
Tur scowled. “Me bash.”
“Yawn. I heard you the first time.” She spread her arms wide. “If we’re