Chapter 1
Ada McLeod registered for the bare-knuckle round and waited for her name to be drawn. The chalkboard had a bunch of nicknames, last names, and first names, but never the whole name. Seconds before stepping into the ring, she pumped blood through her body, for strength.
‘Jackson’ wasn’t a stranger here. People got edgier when he was around. They took their names off the lists. There were more spectators when he came around though. Jeans and a t-shirt left the tattoos on his arm exposed, and a careless expression on his face didn’t go along with the way the crowd watched him as his name was called. There was the hubbub of bets being placed, of cheers and laughter as they saw his opponent. He smiled, but it wasn’t mocking like the rest. He had a challenge finally.
“Excellent,” he said under his breath and took his place in the circle. He’d let her take the first shot, and he’d let her land it.
She stepped up looking at him, rolling the cuff of her shirt mid-forearm. She heard some of the mocks and could understand she was David to his Goliath. Ada tuned out the crowd, narrowing her eyes. They circled each other once and then she went for it with a right hook to the jaw, landing it, feeling the sudden rush of adrenaline overtake her.
He exhaled with the hit, gauging it and liking it. She was an actual challenge. He’d gotten wolves in here sometimes, and vampires looking for a bit of blood sport. People who died in the ring weren’t mourned. The people who did the killing disposed of the bodies. One of the rules is to clean up your mess. It was not a problem tonight not for him anyway. No one here he wanted to kill. His jaw was steel, and he grinned when he brought his left around in a backhand to match her hit. He was as strong as she was, at least.
She shook her hand out as she wiped the small trickle of blood from her lip with her left hand. She couldn’t tell if he was a little more than human. He took her supernatural punch and returned it. She narrowed her eyes, this time a combination of right, right, and left, followed by a leg sweep to the side of his knee.
He took the first two hits and ignored the left jab with a scoffing sound. Was this all she had? He doubted it. As she went for his leg, he lifted it out of the way with a graceful motion, bringing it back down in a hard swing kick toward her chin.
Both of her hands came up, fast catching his boot just as it impacted her chin. The momentum took both of them off balance, flipping them to the ground. She saw stars only a second before she was back on her feet. Kick flipping to her feet she straddled his chest striking another right to the chin.
~There we go!~ He let out a huff of a laugh as she blurred in her movement, even as he fell. He was smiling, intensity in his eyes the only sign that he was focusing as he caught her fist. With her caught hand and his free one, he shoved her off with enough force to slide her across the circle to the other side. He got to his feet with a smooth motion and waited for her to come again.
Ada stood up, smoothing her shirt sleeve, the white cloth already staining red. Using the back of her hand, she touched the area just below her right eye. “Nice,” she said in a low voice. She walked closer, half circling him. This was getting fun.
Ada came at him again using a combination of punches and kicks, which he matched. She finally twisted, spinning around, using her elbow to impact his chin from the left.
She was well trained, but when he matched her, it was with fluid grace. He grunted at the hit, and dropped to a crouch, gave her two hard, quick jabs to the gut followed by an attempt at an uppercut.
She held her own repeatedly, until the uppercut. She weaved when she should have bobbed. Ada’s chin snapped back with enough force to twist her around.
Blood escaped her jaw landing on her face in the crowd. She went down, catching her weight on her wrist, which snapped under the strain. She rolled on her back dazed.
The rush of sound when the blood came was intoxicating, and he licked his lips. The crowd did love to see blood. They seemed disappointed, though, when she didn’t get back up right off. It was done, for now. He sauntered over to her, reached down, and grabbed the front of her shirt to pull her effortlessly to her feet.
“Come on. Up.” It was as much to clear the ring for the next fight, as it was to get her back on her feet. He’d pull her along until she started to argue about it, to a side area where people sat to get ready or to bandage up.
“Ada,” she said extending her hand. She knew two of her fingers were broken at the knuckle, and some tape would hold them. She also shook out her other hand feeling the sting in the wrist. “Thanks…” she said a little quieter.
He took her hand and then pulled it to him, studied the broken fingers. Not crushed, just fractured. “Adam,” he said with a grin. “Good fight. You gonna fix that?” He gestured to her wrist. “Or do you want me to tape it?”
“Tape,” was her only answer. Bitch of it was her right hand.--Her favorite hand. The colt felt more at home in her right hand. “I can see why they take their names off the board.” She shrugged to the crowd behind them. “You pack one hell of a punch,” she said rubbing her chin.
He pulled two different rolls off a shelf and waved her toward a couple of chairs that sat around a table. A deck of cards was splayed out, from a half-finished poker game that was set aside when the matches started. “Eh,” he shrugged as he sat, peeling off some tape for her fingers from the roll. “I don’t hit them that hard. I knew you could take it.” He smirked. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”
“So, you just summed me up with a look or was it something else?” Ada was fishing rather poorly. Her game was off. “Or are you going to give me some line about smelling it on me?” Extending her fingers to him, she reached for her coat with the other. “Mind if I smoke?” She asked not interested in the crowd behind them. She glanced at the cards. --Dead man’s hand, aces, and eights, looking back at her. “So how often do you do this…I mean if I want a rematch?” She held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. I’m not good with small talk.” She was nervous.
“Hah. No, you don’t smell like what you are. You smell like sweat right now. But honestly, who wants to inhale in a place like this?” He started the tape around her fingers, binding them together with almost delicate touches that didn’t match the blood on his hands. “Smoke if you like,” he said, finishing the fingers. He considered her, shrugged, and answered the question anyway. “I’m here once a week or so it’s something to do.” He waved for her to give him her wrist and picked up the other roll of softer, wider tape. “I don’t think you’ll beat me next time either if it makes a difference,” he said with a kind of confidence.
His cockiness brought an unfamiliar reaction, a smile and a soft laugh. “What makes you think I wouldn’t beat you next time?” She lit the cigarette as he finished wrapping her wrist. Looking over the faces of the crowd and passersby Ada had a funny sensation, a tickling at the back of her mind. She had been here before. Not this place, but the situation. --Some stranger patching her up after a fight.
As she sat, her tongue moved along her teeth, checking to see if his blows had loosened any. All were intact. Her tongue then darted to the corner of her mouth to the split lip, tasting her blood. “Man, you pack one hell of a punch. I haven’t been hit that hard since…” She thought about Mickey and the 2 x 4. “It’s been a while,” she finished. She reached over, taking her jacket in hand before standing. She rubbed her cheek just below her left eye.
“It’s been great Adam,” she continued. “If this is what you do when you’re bored, I would hate to see what you do when you’re not.” Again, her tongue touched the split and a new trickle of blood. She thumbed it this time. “Fuck,” she breathed. “I need some ice and a stiff drink.”
He glanced back at her as he sat back, stacking the tape as she licked at the blood on her lip. “Ditto. Get out of here and go where, Ada?” His eyes narrowed with good humor. “And what makes you think that you deserve to know more than what you think already?”
“Leave…stay…it doesn’t matter to me.” She shrugged, leaning back, becoming reminded just how sore she was becoming from sitting still. She smiled slightly sipping the rest of the crown. “I’m kind of curious sort,” she said quietly, reflecting on the words again. “Maybe you’re right and I don’t have as much as I think I do. And I want to know more. Forewarned is forlorn after all.” She laughed.
“I would rather take this conversation elsewhere though. It’s getting late, and I’m covered in blood, and you and I are not the only beings here tonight.” She glanced at the door as a pair of neonates walked in. It must have been their feeding ground.
“Beings,” he repeated with amusement. “I love how you dismiss the other human’s out-of-hand.” A chuckle for that and he got up and stretched. Tossing back the rest of the drink, he shrugged. “So, lead on. You can ask questions if you like. I’m certainly never going to stop someone from asking questions. Of course, I don’t have to answer them.” He gave her a wink, walked his glass to the bar, and set it down. He could care less about the vampires. He was about as afraid of them as a dog was a kitten. Something you swatted around if they got uppity. And they did tend to get uppity, thinking they were at the top of the food chain most of the time.
“I don’t dismiss humans, not really. I protect them from the unseen war, from the blood baths. It is just easier not to make it personal. I cannot afford to have my own emotions compromised. I need a shower,” she added offhandedly. Ada decided to take him back to her place. “My place, I can shower, and we can talk there.” She stood and walked to the door, narrowing her eyes at one of them. She controlled the growl building in her throat.
“That’s very gracious of you,” he said, and it was impossible to tell if he was making fun of her. “Downright noble, except of course emotions are what gave people their power, they come from the soul. Control is one thing, stoicism another.” He eyed her as she said she needed a shower. He supposed she did. Humans are all about being clean these days. He remembered when they thought bathing would kill them. Admittedly, the world is a better-smelling place now. “Sure, why not,” he said, glancing at the young vampires but only that. He didn’t pick fights for no reason.
Ada walked with her hands inside her jacket pockets. Her apartment wasn’t too far from the fight club. It was one of many places she had throughout the city. Michael had believed they needed more than one safe house. She didn’t say much, instead thinking about what he said and if he meant it, or if he was being factious. She toiled with it. She never thought of herself as gracious or noble. She was neither in her eyes.
She looked up to the building before looking over her shoulder. It was then she felt the hair on the back of her neck tingle as though being watched. “Why would you say I was noble? I am nothing of noble. And I agree it’s our emotions that give us power, but emotions can hinder you as well. I mean what if in the middle of a fight I freeze from fear? I die. I’m not willing to cave into emotions. I did that once.”
As she opened the door, her hand moved to offer him in. “Make yourself at home. There is a small bar near the kitchen. I won’t be but a minute.”
“Sure, emotions can hinder you. But like I said control versus elimination.” He eyed the bar as he walked in, looking around the room. “Yeah, thanks. I think I’m all set,” he admitted and strolled to glance out a window before moving to take a seat. He wondered how she could be so comfortable with him and grinned at that thought. “So, you’re willing to let a strange man into your apartment, get naked, and shower while you leave him in your living room? How do you know I won’t do something particularly unpleasant to you?”
Ada looked from the door of the bathroom. “You have already said you have no interest in me sexually, and you have given no hint of wanting to harm me. In fact, you said you would enjoy fighting me again. So…” she shrugged a little, letting the coat fall from her shoulders.” She started the water. “Should I be worried, Adam? Should I live every moment in fear?”
