I nodded absently as she hurried down the hall. As much as I didn’t want to get involved with politics, I was concerned about the outcome of the council’s vote. Despite Maisie’s prophecy, I still believed there had to be another solution. Maisie, however, didn’t have that luxury of waiting and seeing what happened. I might bitch and moan about having to learn magic and deal with Maisie and Rhea’s theories about the prophecy, but I didn’t have a fraction of the pressure Maisie was facing. The council relied on her visions to make decisions, and they relied on her diplomatic skills to keep their allies happy. Judging from the tense set of her shoulders as she walked away, those pressures weighed heavily.
“Hey, Maisie?” I called after her.
She stopped and turned, looking harried. “Yeah?”
“Good luck.”
Her face brightened with surprise. “Thanks.” She waved and hurried off.
I turned to find Giguhl watching me with an assessing look.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, but obviously he was reading into the exchange I’d just had with my sister.
I was just fine with him holding his tongue. With that one little “good luck,” it felt like the tide shifted. I could feel the pull of the vortex, sucking me further into mage life. Every day I got more and more involved, whether I liked it or not. But I preferred to fool myself for a little longer. At least until I understood the situation a bit more. Soon enough, the day would come when the mages would force my hand and demand I openly declare my support.
“Anyway.” I changed the subject. “You were talking about the bureaucracy in Irkalla?”
He smiled knowingly but went with the non sequitur. “Oh, yeah, demons love the red tape. If they could, they’d make you wait for fifty forms in triplicate just for permission to take a crap.”
He continued to dissect demon social structure as we made our way back to Maisie’s apartment. I only half listened. In the back of my mind, I considered what would happen if the council voted for war. And as hard as I tried, I couldn’t imagine anything positive about that outcome.
* * *
The next night I pushed my way through the crowd gathered in Vein’s underbelly. My elbows put me at the receiving end of some insults and shoves, but I forged ahead.
Giguhl stood on one side of the pit where I’d fought Michael Romulus a few nights earlier. His scaly green chest glistened under the single lightbulb hanging from the concrete ceiling. The light illuminated the determination in his goat eyes.
I glanced to my left and saw his opponent, a smaller demon with a bat’s face and a barbarian’s body. As I watched, he spread his arms wide and emitted a high-pitched screech. I cringed and covered my ears, but everyone else went wild.
Giguhl spat in the corner, seeming unaffected by the other demon’s showboating. It was a macho side of Giguhl I’d never seen before. As far as I could tell, the fight was just about to begin.
“Oh, hell, no!” I yelled over the noise. I started pushing my way to the right, trying to reach my demon. I’d agreed to this, and even made the call to Slade to set it up, but now, watching the wild crowd and the murder in the bat demon’s eyes, I changed my mind.
“Giguhl!” I had to yell to be heard over those who felt the need to scream advice at my demon. “Giguhl!”
His head turned and he saw me. A huge smile spread over his face. “Sabina!”
I grabbed his green biceps and pulled him toward me. “I’ve changed my mind.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think you should fight.”
Giguhl snorted and gave me a friendly nudge. “Sabina, get real. I’m gonna kick his ass.”
“No, you’re not.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
I paused, trying to figure that out for myself. “Because,” I said finally.
Giguhl laughed. “Ah, you’re worried about me.”
“Am not,” I muttered.
Slade made his way through the crowd to my side. I’d managed to avoid him since we got to the bar, but now he butted in. “What’s going on?”
“He’s not allowed to fight,” I said.
Slade frowned and shook his head. “Once a challenge has been issued, the fight must proceed. It’s the third rule of Demon Fight Club.”
“Fuck the rules. He’s my demon, and I revoke permission to fight.”
“This is so embarrassing,” Giguhl said. “Stop acting like my mother.”
“What if you get hurt?”
“Sabina, I’m a five-hundred-year-old, grown-ass demon. The neighborhood I come from in Irkalla makes prison look like preschool. You think I can’t defeat a freaking Defiler demon?”
My cheeks flamed under the weight of two male stares. Of course Giguhl could hold his own. To question his ability to fight was an insult. I sighed. “Fine, but you better kick his ass. I’m not playing nursemaid if you get hurt.”
Giguhl smiled like the Cheshire cat. “Just sit back and watch the master at work.”
Confident the fight would go on, Slade walked to the center of the pit and held his hands up for silence. The crowd obeyed immediately.
“It is time to review the rules of Demon Fight Club. Rule number one?”
Everyone yelled, “You do not talk about Demon Fight Club!”
My mouth fell open. Was Slade for real with this shit?
“Two!”
I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess…”
The crowd shouted, “You do NOT talk about Demon Fight Club!”
“Excellent!” Slade nodded approvingly without a trace of irony. “Now for the rest. Number three: Once a challenge has been issued, the fight must proceed.” He paused to shoot me a look. My jaw clenched as I glared at him, but the unoriginal bastard wasn’t done. “Four: Only two demons to a fight. Five: No weapons, magical or mundane.”
I glanced at Giguhl. That rule must explain the brass collar around his neck. Brass dulls magic, so if a demon tried to use a spell against an opponent they’d be shit out of luck.
“Six: Once a fight begins,” Slade continued, “it must continue until someone begs for mercy.”
He paused again. The tension in the room grew, and I knew I wasn’t going to like rule number seven.
“And rule number seven is?” he said finally.
“No mercy!” The crowd really let loose then. All around, money exchanged hands as mages, vamps, and fae placed bets on the outcome. Looked like the crowd was favoring Bat Face in three-to-one odds.