On the Verge (A Charmed Life Book 1) (29 page)

“Get away!” Jacob grunted, Tracy barely able to hear him.  “Divide his attention!”

Tracy turned and fled, stumbling lightly as she ducked behind cover herself, getting out of Pax's line of sight.  The shrill whine of metal against metal sounded through the arena as Jacob kept Pax's attention, the sound testament that his desperate defense hadn't failed yet.  Then the whine became muted, muffled, as the tone of the battle shifted.

As Tracy came out from behind the obstruction, she saw that Jacob had collapsed to the ground, his thigh rent and bleeding once more.  He'd dropped the shadow bandage in order to send that dark power into his blade, which was now floating in the air like a specter.  It flashed almost faster than Tracy could follow, clashing with the insanely fast blazing sphere to throw out gouts of bright sparks and shredded liquid shadow, two battling entities of light and dark.  She had no idea how the two could match each other with such focus.  She was struck by just how outmatched she was.  Sure, she knew Aikido, but these two had a lot of experience at battling with the magic.  By herself, she'd never have been able to stand up to that sort of savagery.

Jacob took his eyes from the fight for a moment to look past Pax's shoulder, and she saw his eyes light up in victory.  She glanced past Pax to see what Jacob saw, but nothing was there.  Pax jumped behind cover and turned, hidden from Jacob, but not from Tracy's view.  His flaming sphere left the battle with the shadow blade and flung to his defense from … nothing.

Tracy could see the vista with perfect clarity as Jacob's blade followed the sphere's retreat, slipping around the corner of that great plastic block and burying itself in Pax's side, guided perfectly by the mind charm.  It was only then that she realized what Jacob had done.  He'd sent her away so that Pax wouldn't know where she was, had gotten Pax so caught up in the fight that he was acting off of instinct … then, with a single expression on his face, had completely bluffed Pax into moving his guard elsewhere.

The crystal ball nearly fell from the air, but Pax's face was set in a fierce fury.  His eyes locked on hers and he snarled, pointing towards her.  She set herself to be ready to guard against an attack, but then the shadow blade twisted in his side and Pax screamed in agony, the flame and saw blade both disappearing from the crystal sphere as it dropped lifelessly to the earth.

“UNCLE!” The word ripped from Pax's throat, desperately.  “I yield!”

The shadow blade flickered and disappeared, and Tracy knew it was reforming in Jacob's hand like liquid darkness.  From above, the loudspeakers sounded a piercing horn to mark the end of the match.

Tracy stood there, half-hidden behind the corner, uncertain how to react to the buzzer.  The fight was over, true, but her heart was still racing, her breath quick.  Her body didn't know that the fight was over yet.

She worked to calm herself, leaning against the wall, her head bumping into the surface.  She worked to slow her breathing, focused on her heartbeat.  Reluctantly, her mind eased up its grip on her charms, so that her stone skin finally retreated.  A sharp sting ran across much of her skin, like really bad sunburn, and the pain in her lower back got sharp enough to make her whimper and drop to her knees.  She felt a wetness on her hands, and looked down to see blood flowing from the shallow gouges across her forearms.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she groaned, but they flew open again right away as her mind's eye showed her Anthony's ruined flesh, his shoulder at its unnatural angle, his body twisted in agony.  Tracy's stomach twisted sickly, and her knees felt weak.

“We won!  I can't believe it!” Jacob exclaimed, picking her up in a tight hug, though he immediately let go at her cry of pain.  His hands had hit the rent, bleeding flesh at her lower back.  Tracy's stomach churned and she concentrated hard on not throwing up.

“You're excited?!” she gasped at him, lifting her gaze to glare furiously.  “You think this is good? Didn't you see what I did to him?”  She gestured in Anthony's general direction.

Jacob looked confused.  “He did that to himself,” he tried to say, “While trying to do that to you …”

Tracy shook her head in denial.  “And then I tried to do the same thing to Pax over there, who you happily nigh-disemboweled! Just like you did to Craig!”

Jacob looked even more confused.  “You saw what he was trying to do … he challenged us.  It's just a fight … ”

She couldn't take it anymore.  She shoved Jacob in the chest and rushed away towards the changing room, her eyes burning with tears and her stomach roiling.  A woman was standing in her way, holding up a hand.  Her hair was blond and long but tied up in a tight bun, and she somehow managed to wear a t-shirt and jeans while making them look expensive, as well as a white vest with a red cross on it to mark her as a medic.  The medical kit helped confirm that, too.  “Do you need medical attention?” she asked primly.

Tracy stared at her in shock and disbelief.  Was everyone here insane? “Help him!” she cried, gesturing in Anthony's general direction.  “I won, I'm fine!”

“But you're bleedi -” She started to say, but Tracy was pushing past her to resume her rush for the locker room.  She hurried past the lockers, barely conscious of their presence as she focused on reaching the bathroom in time.  She'd meant to make it to one of the toilets, but ended up bending over a sink as the contents of her stomach emptied themselves.  Her eyes burned as tears ran down her face, her nose and throat burned from the acid pouring out of them, but she couldn't move from the sink, barely able to breath as another acidic rush of vomit spewed forth.

Gentle hands were at her temples, pulling her hair back, patting lightly over her head.  “There there, darlin' … let it out … ” Tyra was saying quietly, only a dark blur in the mirror through Tracy's tear-filled eyes.

Tracy bent over the sink, feeling miserable and spent, the adrenaline rush finally crashing on her and leaving her feeling weak and trembling.  Her chest seized under a series of deep sobs, and she started bawling like a child.  Tyra made quiet, soothing noises as she drew Tracy close with one arm, her other hand busy getting some paper towels and wetting them, then cleaning at Tracy's face a little to get the splatter off.  “That's it, darlin',” she said softly.  “Go ahead an' cry.”

Tracy lost track of time as she cried pitifully in Tyra's arms, blowing her nose in toilet paper.  At some point, Tyra walked her back out into the locker room proper, sitting her down on one of the benches and settling next to her, all without letting go.  Finally, though, the sobs slowed and ceased, and she was left sitting there leaning against Tyra, sniffling and feeling exhausted.

“Most of the time it's not that bad,” Tyra said gently.  “But least it had one good thing,”

“What's that?” asked Tracy, hearing the faint humor in Tyra's voice, not sure whether to appreciate it or find it inappropriate.

“Well, you were so sick, you fergot t' feel upset that you were paradin' yer goods to th' TV.”

Tracy looked down at herself and gasped.  Her shirt had been mostly reduced to ashes, which had then turned into a thick black paste covering her thanks to the drenching humidity she had created, and baked by the fire.  There were sweat lines of clear skin, and cracked flakes gone from the baked spots, and despite a few clinging rags, she was still mainly nude from the waist up.  One pant-leg was still there to the knee, but the other hand been burned up the side so it hung free in some sort of semi-loincloth style, held on only by the unharmed black-belt.   At least she hadn't shown anything down there.

Tracy lifted the dangling end of the black belt, unbelievably glad she hadn't destroyed it in the foolishness out there.  “Thank goodness,” she murmured.

“You turned it to stone.  You need t'learn t'make yer clothes stone, too.” Tyra giggled, then pulled Tracy to her feet.  “C'mon, let's go get that muck offa yerself and me.”

Tracy realized now that Tyra's clothes were completely ruined with smears of black soot, and her hands come up to her mouth.  “Oh, Tyra!” she gasped through her fingers, “I'm so sorry!”  Tyra laughed and shook her head.

The hot water of the shower almost made Tracy scream with agony as she washed the sooty mess out of the cuts across her forearms, and especially as Tyra helped make sure the big one across her lower back was well-cleaned.  It would have been bad enough with just the burns, but the sharp agony of the deep scrapes completely overshadowed the lesser pain of hot water on sunburn.  It was a great relief once they got out of the shower and Tyra dressed Tracy's wounds with surprisingly gentle fingers for such a tough gal.

Just once, Tyra suggested to Tracy that she go get some proper care from the medics outside, but Tracy firmly snapped, “No magic.  Not yet.”

After they both were cleaned up, Tracy was feeling a lot better.  Perhaps it was the soothing shower; perhaps the adrenaline crash was passing; or perhaps it was just that her mind was carefully skittering away from letting her remember.  She had calmed down enough to use her water charm to clean the soot from Tyra's clothes, and reluctantly agreed to let the medic in to tend to her wounds more securely.  She let the medic heal to the cuts in her back and forearms, make sure that her spine wasn't damaged, but refused to let her clear away the sunburn.  She didn't want it all gone, just like that – she wanted some small bits of pain to remind herself what she went through today.  It seemed too easy just to let magic fix it all.  After the medic left, though, she started regretting that decision – the gouges hadn't healed perfectly, and still had some healing to do.  Perhaps that pain would have been enough.  Seemed magic wasn't that much of a cure-all after all.  Ah well – she would manage.

Nick and his constant entourage were standing out in the hall, talking quietly with a man Tracy hadn't met yet.  The man's eyes lit up as he saw Tracy, and he started towards her.  “Wow, you were-”

He cut off as Nick grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around a little more roughly.  “Wait in the lobby,” Nick told him in a low, dangerous voice that brooked no disagreement.  The man swallowed hard and nodded, practically running up the hall to get away from that gaze.  Nick sighed regretfully.

Tyra murmured quietly to Tracy, “He's been keepin' folks from swarmin' you with congratulations.”

Tracy felt her stomach churn a little, and tried to figure out how to respond to finding out this group was safeguarding her.  She didn't want to join some exclusive club, but they had been terribly helpful, and she was so glad that she hadn't been mobbed while she was throwing up in the bathroom.

“Hey there, Rose,” Nick said warmly, with a sympathetic smile.  “I'm so sorry it ended up that way.” Tracy nodded mutely, giving him a wan smile.  He understood.  He understood what she was feeling.  He wasn't congratulating her; he was sympathizing with her for what she'd had to do to win.  The simple, nonmagical empathy brought tears to her eyes.

“Do you feel like showing us your new metal form?” Nick asked hesitantly, “Or would you rather just get out of here and not think about it?”

Tracy laughed softly.  They wanted to see her metal form?  They hated metal forms.  And really, after what it ended up doing to Anthony, she wasn't eager to don it, either.  She plucked the charm of earth and fire from her wrist, looking at it thoughtfully, then a small smirk popping up across her face.  They hated metal forms.

She focused on the earth half of the charm, drawing upon its power and focusing it inwards.  As the charm disappeared from between her fingers, she felt the now-familiar brief stiffness as the stone encased her and suffused her.  She looked at her hand, made of cool marble and traced with veins of rosy pink.  This is what they wanted to see - that even with metal, she'd rather use earth body.

Nick held out his hand, palm up, and one of his entourage, still standing next to him, sighed and slapped a hundred-dollar bill into Nick's hand.  “Dammit,” the man muttered.

“Nice effect,” Tyra said approvingly.  Tracy looked over at Tyra, a little confused, and Nick laughed.

“She hasn't been doing this long enough to know,” he chuckled, “Here.” His hands curved before him, and the air shimmered with heat until a mirror with squirming and uncertain edges floated between his fingers.  Tracy looked and saw that along with being in the form of rose marble, her eyes were now alight with pale green flame.  She wasn't sure if it looked really awesome or really scary, and let the magic go so she was looking at her own scared and confused face, instead of the burning-eyed marble warrior woman.  “Hey, look,” Nick said.  “I made sure all your adoring fans would be waiting up in the lobby if they wanted to talk to you.  Do you want to go meet them? Or would you rather sneak around back and slip away quietly?”

Tracy started to respond, but then she felt everyone around them go stiff.  She turned her head to look at Jacob, who'd just emerged from the men's changing room.

“Hey,” he said, lamely, looking uncomfortable.  “Um.  Tracy, I'll just wait for you up at the bike …”

Tracy looked at Nick, then at Jacob, a little torn … “All right,” she murmured.  “I'll see you up there.” She'd been feeling somewhat mad at Jacob for being excited while someone was horribly maimed, but she couldn't maintain that anger with him so obviously in pain.  She sighed as he walked away.

Jacob stopped at her sigh, and his back stiffened.  He stood still for a few long moments, breathing very carefully, and Tracy looked at him, confused.

“Nick,” Jacob said, finally.  “I know what I did was a betrayal of trust.  I don't expect to be forgiven … but … I can at least apologize.  I should have come to you honestly.”