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I’d become somewhat of a fixture here as their ring announcer. Crimson City called to me over and over again, so I kept returning, and the previous announcer was more than happy to let me assume command. My voice boomed through the crowd, my presence commanding attention. So, every Friday night, I’d come and put on a performance. It was somewhat of a fulfilling exercise for me. I didn’t want everyone to know who I was, but I did love to put on a show.
The group who ran this underground fight ring was drawn to my flamboyance and charm. Figures in black capes and black masks withneon stitching roamed the arena until all the spectators had cleared, just as they always did. Normally, they would wander past me, throwing me a thumbs up or patting me on the back, but tonight, there was an odd tension threading through.
After a subtle shift in the air most would have never noticed, a cloaked figure slipped me a folded-up note with a wordless gesture before melting back into the darkness. I raised an eyebrow and unfolded the paper to read a simple invitation to a meeting in a back room. The handwriting niggled at me, though—there was something familiar about it I couldn’t put my finger on. I’d have to accept the invite to find out more, so I tucked the clandestine note into my pocket and skipped out toward the designated spot.
My journey through the gloomy corridors, though familiar, felt charged with electricity, filling me with equal parts excitement and unease. In the back of my mind, I knew I had to be vigilant. I was about to step into something far more interesting than some supernatural fight club insider’s meeting.
I pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. The round room made of stone and cement was sparsely decorated, illuminated only by the dance of torchlight along the wall. A circle of cloaked members gathered, waiting, their masked faces providing no clues in their intense silence.
My eyes must have sparkled; the intensity in the room would have given lesser men a heart attack. But I wasn’t a man at all, so I stood there with manic amusement twisting my face, wiggling my fingers in anticipation.
The door slammed behind me, and a figure holding a scepter, wearing a crown of antlers, stepped forward, his dominance attempting to rival my own.
“Welcome.” His voice boomed with an air of authority that echoed off the stone walls, demanding attention.
I couldn’t help but snicker at the dramatic entrance. They were a group after my own heart, but boy, was I hella suspicious. Crossing my arms, I leaned against the doorframe. “Youguys,” I began playfully. “You know I like you, but what is all this smoke and dagger shit you got going on?”
The leader cocked his head, perturbed at my irreverence. I could smell it all over him, as well as the fear from everyone else.
“We operate in secrecy for a reason, Maverick. Our cause is not to be taken lightly.”
I raised an eyebrow, struck by his use of my name, which I had not told them. If they knew that and had invited me here personally, they should have known me better. “Well then, let’s get to the point. Who are you, and what do you want from me?”
The leader nodded, acknowledging my directness. “First, an oath.” He pulled a dagger out from beneath his cloak and held it out.
I glanced around the room at all the motionless members watching us silently. There was no way they were getting anything of the sort from me right then and there. “What kind of oath?”
“Assurance that your knowledge of our purpose and activity stays with you.” He held out his hand, and I gently plucked the dagger from his grasp and held it to my palm, lips pursed, indicating for him to perform his spell. “Do you, Maverick, vow to keep all you learn here to yourself under threat of immediate demise?”
He had no way of knowing that this wouldn’t be binding on me, as Hellborne rather than human, supernatural or otherwise, but I obviously wouldn’t tell himthat.
“I promise.”
I cut into my palm and let the blood pool in my hand. He dipped a shaky finger into my blood and used it to draw some runic-type figures on my forehead and cheek. “So mote it be.” A faint whiff of fear began to drift off of him. His voice quivered, and the concern in his eyes through his mask—like he was waiting for me to kill him—sent a shot of adrenaline through me.
A flash of light must have convinced them it had set in because the leader in front of me removed his mask. He was a young guy, probably in his thirties, with dark hair and big, serious eyes. The rest of the group removed their masks, holding them in their left hand by their side–just like seraphim guards. Clue number one. I glanced at them all with scrutiny, my suspicions growing stronger, but I held my nerve.
“How’s it going?” I said it like we were meeting in a bar. No one answered, and only a few of their mouths twitched.
“My name is Adrian,” said the leader finally, his voice steady. “We are the Lords of Light, a rebel group in opposition to Gustav Valorsyn.”
My heart thumped hard again at the mention of Valorsyn. His reputation preceded him, and the thought of being involved in a rebellion against such a strong figure would normally send a thrill down my spine. The dragon shifter controlled the city with an iron fist, and I’d enjoy taking a tyrant like that down, though I would stay on the sidelines.
But if the hunters were letting casino owners in, they’d have no qualms about supernatural bosses, either. And if they were crafty, they’d get the resistance group to reel me in instead. They’d never been that clever before. Not until Vegas, and that was too recent to now ignore the possibility that they were getting smarter.
Adrian continued, his gaze never wavering. “We run the fight club as a means of finding recruits, individuals with heart and spirit, whoare willing to stand up against Valorsyn’s tyranny and fight for freedom. We believe you have the potential to be one of us, Maverick.”
He was cute if he thought he was bestowing an honor on me. I paused, not wanting to let my natural reaction clue them in.
Joining a rebellion would have been fun for a while, but I had to stay safe—for both me and my brothers. I peered around at the unmasked figures, their disquiet unmistakable now, even in the silhouettes of the room.
The idea of stirring up shit for the seraphim hunters settled into my bones. Making life hard for those assholes was my favorite thing to do, but it was a shame these guys had to die for that cause. In another world, we could have been friends, and I did so hate to slaughter friends.
But, you have to do what you have to do, and when the hunters returned, they’d extract the minds of each and every one of these ‘LOL’ members.
They’d get too much information if I left them alive.
It was a shame, but excitement stirred through me as I gauged who to start with. “Alright, Adrian. I’m in… Say, how much are they paying you?”
