A Hero's Death: Aris Crow Vampire Legend (Aris Crow Vampire Legend Book 1) by Rachel McClellan

Author:Rachel McClellan [McClellan, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-09T16:00:00+00:00

19

I reached the last curtain partition and risked a glance between two sheets. Two men sat at a small circular table, a deck of cards spread out before them along with open beer cans. Just beyond them was Oz. He was tied to a chair, his head lowered and blood dripping down from a cut on his forehead. His left eye was also swollen and black.

I contemplated my next move. The ski mask was in my back pocket, so I could rush in and grab Oz now, but if I didn't make the fight, Victor might suspect me of helping Oz.

I puffed air through my nose. The best course of action would be to save Oz after the fight. He should be okay until then.

As much as I didn't want to, I snuck back to the locker room without being seen. If Victor wanted to question Oz, that probably meant he hadn't said anything about who I was. All I had to do was get Oz far from here, and Victor would never know the truth.

I changed into my boxing shorts and pulled on a blue silk robe that had been hanging in a locker. I checked the covering on my tattoo one last time and sat down to wait for the man I was supposed to fight, but he never came. I was hoping to size up my competition. Not because I was nervous, but because I wanted to plan my fighting strategy ahead of time.

Ten minutes before the fight, the door opened. A shorter man wearing a business suit, his head full of silver hair, nodded at me. "They are waiting for you downstairs."

"I'm ready." I stood up.

The older man's eyes followed the length of my body. "You're tall, but the other guy's bigger. You'll be lucky to come out of this with just a broken nose."

"You think so?"

He turned around and walked out the door. I followed after him. Over his shoulder he said, "You're just like all the rest who come trying to make a name for themselves. But son, there's no glory here. Just misery buried by dollar signs."

"They are about to be buried by a lot more," I mumbled.

The man guided me down the stairs and back into the club. Bright spotlights on the ceiling shined in all directions, moving constantly about the room illuminating the crazed faces of the crowd. A long aisle had been sectioned off with rope, providing a path for me to walk straight to the boxing ring.

I pulled the hood of my robe over my head and proceeded down the path. No one paid any attention to me except for a few people who jeered at me in passing. But when I hopped up into the ring, the crowd exploded into a mixture of cheers and boos. I couldn't imagine a worse place to be right now.

A microphone from above boomed: "Our first fighter for the evening is a newcomer. He is so new that we're not going to bother with his name.

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