Deadliest Bidder (Nick Teller Book 2) by Alan Brenik

Author:Alan Brenik [Brenik, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brenik Books
Published: 2019-07-26T20:00:00+00:00

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The second match passed in a vicious blur, then Kia stepped close to my shoulder. ‘According to the blackboard, Roz is up next.’

Soon after, Roz was facing off against Shearman in the pit, the rogue with the unibrow and beard I’d first seen fight at the auction. He was projecting confidence, this time holding a sword, whereas Roz was placid as still water – I didn’t blame her, we’d all seen what she could do with a length of steel in her hand.

Herne gave the command to begin and Shearman took the initiative, thrusting off his back foot and whipping his blade in a complicated fashion. Within two swift moves Roz had disarmed him, his sword flying end over end into the water ringing the sand. The look on his face would have been priceless if Roz didn’t have the point of her blade held before his throat.

‘Your answer?’ she asked, repeating the question she’d posed to Gettelfinger.

To his credit, Shearman danced forward, attempting to catch himself on her blade and draw his blood, but Roz was prepared. She pulled back and casually hit him in the face with the flat of her sword.

Shearman stumbled to one side as quiet laughter trickled down from the spectators. He steadied himself, eyes rodent quick as he took in the judging faces above.

‘I will not ask again,’ said Roz.

Shearman gathered a breath, chest swelling like a bellows, then spat his defiance, a string of spittle landing on Roz’s blade. He reached up as if to snap his own nose, but Roz didn’t give him the chance; her calm expression didn’t falter as she drove her sword flicker-quick through his neck, the tip poking out the back and dripping red. Shearman gargled something unintelligible, his eyes wide, and then Roz withdrew her blade and let him collapse to the sand.

A mixture of unease and nausea stirred in my stomach. I’d seen Finch almost crush his opponent’s chest that morning, and now Roz had killed Shearman without mercy – the odds of survival for those still bidding were plummeting by the second. Part of me had been expecting this pattern of escalating violence as the bidding progressed, but I’d really been hoping that we’d find a way to the Shard that didn’t require me seeing these contests through to the end. I’d managed to beat Gregor by using his own strength against him, but there was no way I could keep that up – I was going to have to fight, really fight, and that scared me.

When Ruby had started her killing spree last year, I’d dusted off my mother’s training and put it to use, but in doing so I’d opened a door that I feared wasn’t easily closed. I’d fought people, hurt people, and eventually I’d even taken a life – and if I was completely honest, there was a part of me that had thrived on that violence. I’d felt it again in the pit against Gregor. It was a fleeting pleasure,

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