Home > Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(126)

Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(126)
Author: A.M. Hudson

“Oh. Right. Never thought of that.” As I sat back again, my blood ran cold, and I looked up with wide eyes. “Has Petey told you anything I've ever said to him?”

Jason’s closed lips twitched, turning up a bit, while his eyes stayed forward. “Maybe.”

“Aw, Petey!”

Petey barked once over Jason’s laughter, and Mike looked up to the noise, copping Eric’s fist to the side of his head; he went down, hitting the sparring mat hard, Eric’s knee jamming into his skull in a knockout strike.

The knights roared, some howling like wolves, others exchanging money.

“Oops.” I shrunk a bit.

“It wasn't your fault, Ara.” Jason stood up and peered over the crowd at Eric, propping his foot on Mike’s chest, his arms raised to the ceiling, flaunting his own victory. “I can’t believe Eric knocked him out.”

I got to my feet, too. “Isn't someone gonna help him?”

“I’ll go.” Jason took off on one foot, but Mike slowly rolled up to sit, rubbing his head.

“Toughen up,” Eric said, offering a hand.

“That was a lucky strike.” Mike stumbled to his feet and gave Eric a one-armed hug. “I pity the next guy to try that.”

“I pity Ara.” Eric winked at me. “She’s the one who distracted you.”

Mike threw me a vehement glare, wiping his face on a towel.

“Sorry, Mike.”

“S’okay, baby. I was just kidding.”

“Good fight, man!” Jason slapped Eric’s palm, bumping shoulders with him as he came over.

“Yeah.” Eric swiped blood off his lip. “Mike had that round ‘til the end there, though.”

“And I’ll have the next one,” Mike said, then pointed at Jason. “Your turn, villain.”

“Bring it on.” Jason flipped his chin in Mike’s direction.

“Eager for another beating, are ya?” Mike took off to the centre of the room and stood waiting like a hungry wolf in a standoff.

Jase just scoffed coolly, as if he didn't care, then rolled his spine, taking his shirt over his shoulders. “Keep hold of that for me.”

“Sure,” I said, catching it.

As he wandered over to Mike, flexing his fingers and wrists, my mind subconsciously compared the two; Mike, with his broad shoulders and huge arms, sweat covering his hairless chest in a fine layer, and Jason, who was half Mike’s bulk; his arms and back thin, but contoured nicely with definition, enough that my heart started a little faster.

He turned to grin back at me, clearly having heard it. The rest of the immortals in the room kept their eyes forward, politely pretending not to have noticed.

“Knock him dead, man,” Eric said playfully.

“Hey, Ara?” Jase called over to me. “How ‘bout a good luck kis—”

“Jase!” I leaped from my seat as Mike smashed his elbow into Jason’s head, sending him flying into the mirror; it cracked under Jason’s weight, his hand pressing hard to the glass as he found his balance and pushed off the wall, forcing himself back up to swing at Mike.

“Nice try,” Mike said, ducking, and grabbed Jason’s waist, slamming him to the ground. All the knights rushed in, surrounding them, making a ring of bodies with barely a millimetre between shoulders.

I stood on my toes, and Petey took off under the knights’ legs, barking loudly. The roars came in waves, the men wincing and waving their fists in the air.

“I can't see,” I whinged, pushing at them.

“Here, climb up.” Eric took my hand and helped me up onto the bench. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Don't mention it.”

He stood with his arms folded then, feet slightly apart, watching the crowd of soldiers barking like animals, while I steadied myself with a hand to his shoulder, rising onto my toes to see over them. It was a mess of flesh and red, moving so fast I could only make out dark hair to blonde, until Mike caught Jase in a chokehold, sweeping his foot under the huddle, dragging them both to the ground.

“Come on, Jase,” I said to myself.

As if he heard me, Jase managed to disentangle his arm from under his ribs, and reached up, jamming his thumb into the soft flesh below Mike’s chin, sending him backward.

“He’s got spirit,” I said, but as soon as the words left my mouth, Mike spun a really wicked roundhouse kick into Jason’s chest, which he blocked, only to receive a straight-cut jab to the skull that would’ve lobotomised a human. “Go for the balls, Jase!” I yelled, and several of the knights turned to look at me; I shrugged.

“Ara?” Eric tugged my hand.

“What?”

“Don't watch anymore, kiddo.”

“I have to. I have to make sure Jason’s okay.”

“That's my point.” He cupped his hands under my arms and pulled me down to the ground. “Mike ruled that we can't use special abilities in sparring, and Jason’s nowhere near strong enough to beat him in a fair fight.” He nodded to the men exchanging more money. “We all know that.”

I covered my mouth slowly. “Wait, how come he lets me use my static power then?”

Eric smirked. “Exactly.”

I frowned over at the heat cloud of sweaty bodies surrounding Mike and Jase. “So, what, he made that ruling on knights only?”

“Uh-hu.”

“But, Jason’s not a knight. Neither are you.”

He nodded, his smirk growing. “That rule applies to whom and to when it suits Mike.”

“So, this is just some lame excuse to beat the shit out of Jason?”

Eric’s head whipped around to look at me. “I don't think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”

My teeth grinded in the back of my mouth, my fists tight. I charged forward, electricity flickering in my hands.

“Ara.” Eric grabbed my shoulder. “Stay out of it.”

“Why?”

“Because if you intervene, you may as well label Jason a pansy now. No, in fact, how ‘bout you tie a big pink ribbon around his chest and call him Mary-Anne.”

“I don't care about his reputation, Eric. Someone has to help him.”

He dropped back from his lean toward me. “I’ll step in soon, okay. If it gets much worse.”

“Why can you step in but not me?”

“’Cause I'm a guy, Ara.”

I scratched my head and looked at Jason, on the floor—just able to see his hair through the legs of a knight. He was beaten bloody, weak, and still trying to finish the fight.

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