Page 82 of Heimlock

We find a spot in the front, right outside ‌the low wall separating the crowd from the battle. Like my battle with Kyrielle, a shield air encompasses the arena to protect onlookers from elemental attacks. The sand is freshly raked, ready for whatever the little firefly is going to do. The seats are filling quickly, the din of conversation morphing into loud chaos.

The five of us sit, with Reverie to my left and Fynn to my right. He leans over and growls, “If you hurt Kyrielle, you understand we’re going to have issues, right?”

I roll my eyes. “You do understand she’s the primary instigator in everything, right?”

He grunts, refusing to agree. A pixie waitress takes our drinks order. I ask for a Heimlock, smiling to myself. It’s nice to have an inside joke with someone.

Finally, the announcer comes out to introduce The Firecracker and Lucasta the Lucky.

Both of them come out with swagger and a grin. I’ve practiced with Luca more than a few times and know exactly how deadly he is. Even though Kyrielle is incredibly capable, a tiny kernel of nervousness has my knee bouncing.

When her eyes catch my gaze, she gives me a small, knowing smile. Like there’s something between us worth enjoying. It’s probably a, Do you still have ash in your nose from that dead guy? kind of smile. Nothing more.

“Go, Luca!” Reverie screams fiercely. The Gargoyle flashes her a playful mock salute. He’s wearing a ridiculous loincloth, while Kyrielle wears the same outfit as usual. Looking like a warrior ready to burn down villages.

The Firecracker ignites her entire body; she’s a walking flame as she and Luca circle one another. Through the roar of the crowd, I can hear their taunting exchange.

“Don’t burn off my hair,” Luca warns her.

Kyrielle chuckles. “You might look good bald.”

Luca’s tail flicks in irritation. “My wife will literally murder you if you turn me bald.”

The Firecracker looks wholly unconcerned. “Forfeit now and you can go check your reflection in case you’re worried.”

Grinning, I watch them circle one another until the bell rings, signalling the beginning. Kyrielle attacks first, shooting fire darts at him. Luca shifts his skin, turning into a hardened periwinkle. When his tail lashes out toward her ankle, she flicks her wings, gaining height before flipping over him. Without lighting it on fire, she grabs his hair and yanks it.

Luca whirls, wings flat like blades. She ducks, but my heart went right into my throat for that one. He could’ve decapitated her.

It’s immediately apparent I’m not prepared to watch her get hurt.

Reverie screams for Luca to duck when Kyrielle thrusts her hands out, tossing a broad shield of fire at him. The Gargoyle blocks it with the back of his wing, then rips his wings apart, sending a pounding wall of air at Kyrielle. She skids backward in the sand, laughing.

My knee jiggles more; the instincts inside me rage to go help. To protect.

I do not like that at all.

Fynn’s hand comes to my knee. “You’re showing a lot right now.”

Shoving his hand off, I mutter, “I have to pee really bad.”

My brother scoffs. “Sure.”

Like in our fight last week, Kyrielle violently claps her hands, sending blinding hot smoke into Luca’s face. And, just like last week, she uses the distraction to sprint at the towering Gargoyle, spring from her feet, and land a series of punches on his face before he knows what’s happening.

Unfortunately for her, he has a far more dexterous tail than mine. It whips up, snatching her around the waist and tossing her aside. Kyrielle slams into the sand. My eyes stay focused on her delicate wings, but they appear to be fine. She flips upward fast enough, but clearly, by the way she leans on her knees, she’s had the wind knocked out of her.

Luca uses his wings to disperse the wind and locks onto her. He’s an honorable fighter, but even with that grin on his face, I don’t like the way he stalks toward her. She looks at him through long, burnt orange lashes, a flash of fear in her expression.

I’m this close to vaulting into the arena — what the fuck is wrong with me? — when I see that special little glint in her eye. Luca raises a fist, realizing too late that the fear’s fake. As his enormous fist comes down, she raises both palms, catching his fist.

Then kicks him right between the legs.

I bark out a laugh, knowing exactly how that feels. I mean, you have to hand it to the little Sprite — she does what’s necessary.

Luca’s knees buckle, and Reverie laughs.

My head jerks in her direction with a frown. “Your husband just got kicked in the dick and you’re laughing?”