The Blood Bracelets #2: Demon Born

Chapter Six

Kael watched as his opponent tossed a small ball of fire between his hands, the alchemic symbols wrapping up his fingers and hands aglow with the same colour as the fire. He was unharmed, while Kael still sported a few cuts and bruises that were slow to heal from his previous match with a knife-wielding ex-Immortal.

The rogue Alchemist appeared to enjoy drawing out the match, only ever aiming his fire strikes close enough to singe Kael's clothing or blanket him with a heat that made it difficult to breathe. Because of his ability to conjure and manipulate fire at will, Kael struggled to get close to him, which meant the match had been dragged on for almost ten minutes now.

Even the crowd was growing impatient.

'You're not giving them much of a show,' said Kael, glancing up at the restless crowd. 'Why don't you—'

There was a roar of air and Kael jerked to the side as the fireball launched past him, the heat ghosting his face. Kael took the opportunity and dashed toward the Alchemist before he had a chance to conjure another fireball, his hand snapping out to grapple the Alchemist around the neck and slam him into the ground.

Dirt lifted in a plume around them and Kael felt a sudden heat at his chest. He threw himself away just as the Alchemist released a fountain of flame from both his hands, the heat so fierce Kael had to turn away while the spectators cheered, their enthusiasm renewed.

Kael twisted back to his feet just as the Alchemist lunged, his hands gloved by fire. He ducked under the first punch that swung toward him and drove his elbow into the Alchemist's gut, pushing him backward, but the Alchemist lashed out with his other hand and clasped Kael's shoulder.

Kael let out a shout of pain as the fire devoured his shoulder, searing through his clothing and skin, but he knocked away the Alchemist's arm and retaliated with a swift upper-cut that smashed his knuckles up against the Alchemist's chin. The Alchemist's head snapped back, and the whiplash knocked him out cold.

He dropped to the ground like a dead weight.

The crowd roared, but Kael didn't pause to revel in the applause. He went straight toward the exit as the door rolled open, and from the corner of his eye he saw Tank speaking into someone's ear. Their whispers were out of place against the sea of shouting and cheering and although Kael didn't look for long, he was positive the conversation had been about him.

Kael wasn't sure how many rounds were left; he wasn't even sure how much time had passed since Tank forced him to compete. But the tournament took place over twenty-four hours, and although that didn't give Kael a lot of time to recover between each match he at least knew that a full day hadn't gone by yet. Each hour he was here, however, meant an hour not searching for Taryn.

Drake was waiting in Kael's room, counting cash. Without looking up from his winnings he said, 'How you holding up, mate?'

'That depends. Are you offering to take my place?'

'Hell no.'

'Then don't ask,' Kael snapped.

There was a glass of water sitting by one of the lanterns, but rather than drinking it Kael pulled off his tattered shirt and poured the water over the burns across his body. The water soothed the pain, if only temporarily, but also helped clean them as well. The last thing he needed was an infection.

Since his shirt was already ruined, Kael used it to dab dry his wounds and clean any blood off his skin. The pain of his burns was already starting to ease, which meant his body had begun to heal, but whether they would be healed fully by the time the next match came Kael didn't know.