The Quarter Moon (Afterlife saga) (33 page)

“We have to stop the fight!” I demanded and this was when Jared’s amusement ended and his hold on me became less of the comforting variety and more of the restraining kind.

“Calm yourself моя бледная красота” (means ‘my pale beauty’ in Russian) His foreign words combined with his strength anchoring me to him, made me put a stop to my struggles. Once I did this he took a deep breath and released it in a long sigh.

“I know you have no reason to trust in my words, for you do not know me, but trust in something else…I know about you and the
future you may hold for me, so I would not harm you and although my explanation is vague, it will be understood soon. But first, I only ask for your faith in your friend.”

“But…my friend, he…he is powerful and if what you said…”

“Power is indeed great, on both sides of that ring, but Hell’s essence powering the muscle, flesh and bone of my world is nothing compared to the power of the mind, power which even a human can possess…” He raised his free hand, the one not still curled around my torso and shifted his long fingers through my hair, holding it all on one side back to speak his next words, words that finally comforted me,

“…a
nd the insane are not often known for their intelligence.” This was the first time one of their kind had actually said anything remotely positive about a human and I found myself surprised that it had come from someone who was known for his dislike of humans. I was starting to open myself up to the idea of understanding the beast at my back.

There was some deeper meaning in his words. Also the rough use of his voice that was heard like velvet pulled amongst the jagged rocks in an effort to comfort me. The unyielding strength of solid muscle that was a contradiction to the soft and gentle rubbing his thumbs were playing, creating circles on my ribs. But more than that, was the trust he asked for and the trust I couldn’t help but give, even when my friend faced unbelievable odds at his command.

These thoughts were dragged from me as the girls had collected all their bets and Marcus was securing them away in the black rock safe. This meant only one thing…

The fight was on.

Drums started to beat out something that sounded vaguely familiar but all my attention was glued to the two that had started to circle each other, both getting ready for the first move. Then the guitar added to the beat just as the Drekavac made his first move. He ran straight for Sigurd, bent over slightly as if readying himself to tackle Sigurd to the ground. But my friend was definitely quicker by side stepping and then spinning from the oncoming truck that was not only ugly but looked crazed!

The motion propelled the demon into the electrical current coursing through the wire and gave him a wakeup call of all wakeup calls. Sigurd widened his stance and then
, after looking amazingly bored for a few seconds, he gave the furious Drekavac a head nod, almost asking for him to come at him and try again. That’s when my shock hit new limits as the band started to add lyrics to the song being played, just as Mr Ugly Ass ran at Sigurd and this time encountered his massive fist. I couldn’t help but blurt out the obvious,

“Seriously…Black Betty!?”

“What, not a fan of Ram Jam?” Was Jared’s only comment, referring to the song being played as a theme tune to match with the sleek moves Sigurd was planting on his fighting partner. After I didn’t answer I received a whispered,

“Or w
ould you have preferred Marcus’ other choices?”

“Them being?” I whispered back,

“Kung Fu Fighting, Live And Let Die or Michael Jackson’s Thriller?” I snorted and answered truthfully,

“
Uhh…no.”

“Black Betty it is and you will soon find out why when the shadows come out to play.” He replied just as Sigurd dodged a hit and spun to get in two quick kidney jabs. The move caused the
Drekavac to take a large step forward to right himself. There was nothing clean or precise about this fight. It wasn’t like when I had seen Draven fight or even my other supernatural friends. No, this was no graceful dance, this was dirty raw, this was painfully gritty and this was downright disgustingly brutal.

Punch after punch got landed, on both sides and neither one even looked to be slowing down. Out of the two though, it was clear that Sigurd was the more
skilful fighter. Like Jared had said, Sigurd used his brain more that the incensed Drekavac’s uncoordinated moves that were based only on berserker strength, fuelled by frenzied rage. This wasn’t to say that Sigurd didn’t feel some of these hits and everyone he did I would flinch and press myself firmer into Jared, out of a pure reflex action.

One of these times was when I saw Sigurd was in for a punishing blow but I let out my held breath when I saw him grab his opponent’s arm. He then spun and using the
Drekavac’s own weight against him, he threw the massive body flying once again into the electric fence. With these moves he reminded me of a wrestler. And seriously, I didn’t know how many times one dude could get smoked and still walk steady after it. I mean, the guy’s trousers even started to cook, making the room smell foul like burning hair and steaming animal skin.

The
Drekavac flung his arms back and threw his head up to the rock ceiling above to let out a blood chilling roar. Then his head came down and he finally cottoned on that charging at his opponent wasn’t getting him anywhere. So he changed his tactics, if you could even call them that. He began circling round the centre where Sigurd stood and this made my friend look like he was losing his patience. This was proven when he lowered his forehead and growled,

“What are you waiting for pretty girl, an invitation?” The snarl he got back made him smile, one that made me shudder
, it was that cold.

“Come get it then bitch, I got fucking things to do!” This was enough to get him to move. I knew what he was doing by provoking him. He wanted the
Drekavac not to think. He wanted to keep him in that manic state to use to his advantage.

“Taunt the beast by pulling on its tail and as it snaps back, in doing so only reveals its jugular ready for the claws.” Jared whispered in my ear. Then, before I could stop myself, I leant back and did some taunting myself,

“Tell me Jared, do you have a tail?” I was happy when this unwise comment got me raucous laughter at my back, instead of the neck breaking move it could have. His arms hugged me closer for a second, before replying with what sounded a lot like flirting,

“Do you wanna find out, little dove?” I laughed back and my smile widened further when I saw Sigurd’s next move. Just as the
Drekavac stupidly charged again, Sigurd held his own wrist and when his target’s head came close enough, he slammed his elbow into the oncoming face. It made a sickening crunch, but Sigurd didn’t give him any time to register the hit. No, because after quickly letting go of his wrist, he was powering the heel of his palm upwards. Fast as lightning and bone charring as the thunder, he forced the Drekavac’s nose bone up and with nowhere else to go but penetrating through his brain. The howl of pain pierced though my ears like a dagger, straight down past my ear drum. The Drekavac was finally on his knees and I held my breath, thinking this had to be the killing blow…oh how wrong I was.

This…

Was just the beginning
.

Chapter 30

Dark Upgrade

I was stupidly readying myself for the roar of applause at the sight of the
Drekavac falling to his knees. I soon discovered though that I would be waiting a while for this, as in, it never came. The reasons for this became clear in the next few seconds when Sigurd started to walk backwards as if preparing himself.

“End of round one
, pet.” Jared informed me. I whipped my head round and looked to his startling silver eyes. As soon as they read my shock they turned soft and this was mirrored in the small smile he gave me.

“There are two rounds to fights like this and the first is to prove the strength of the vessel they command.”

“And the second?” I asked, if only to confirm my fears. He simply nodded back to the stage and yep, it had already started to become very clear as to what the next round was.   

The music changed to a faster and heavier song, giving the next round a more serious vibe. A booming base line reverberated around the room and started to build the frenzied crowd to fever pitch as their stamping feet fell in tune to the drums. I was quickly gathering that this was the round that people were really waiting to see and the music choice only added to this theory.

I felt the air change before I saw anything happen. It was the same as when you knew the storm was coming. The thick wave of clouds bringing with them the proof of something so powerful, it could easily destroy us all. This was what it was like when I watched these two beings start to call forth that power.

It wasn’t only my visual sense that took note, but all
my senses; my hair standing up along my skin, readying itself for the mental chill, the smell of dust being unearthed by each pounding foot from the crowd, the tension I created in my own fingertips by fisting my skirt in a bruising grip. And it was completed by the coppery taste in my mouth from biting the inside of my cheek bloody. All were over-riding any rational thoughts of trying to stay calm.

It started with the
Drekavac.

He was still on his knees, only now he had brought one up along with his head. That’s when the rumbling started through the floor. I jolted in Jared’s arms only to have them squeeze me in a show of strength. The enormous
Drekavac started to pound one fist on the ring’s dirt floor, also in time with the drums and the rumbling got stronger, making me jump each time his hand connected to the ground.

Then I watched with my mouth open as what looked like charred tree roots burst from under him and started to latch onto his legs, firing out like giant sling shots. He shifted his torso around as if he was trying to break free. I didn’t yet know if this was Sigurd’s doing or just the start of his change. But whatever it was had clearly had enough of his attempts to break free. The chains that were attached to the straps sewn into his skin suddenly leapt towards the roots and effectively began restraining him to the floor, so the roots could take further hold.

This continued until hundreds of stiff and twisted black vines entwined themselves over the rest of him, until utterly consuming the bulky mass that was his body. By the end, he looked like a jagged burnt tree in the shape of a man. It was as if it created some sort of wooden armour before someone set him alight, until flesh became fused with cruel nature.

Of course
, this now also made him resemble a human battering ram. I mean, the guy was huge before, but now he was just freakin’ monstrous! The black roots had created a type of breastplate that flared up and out at the tops of his shoulders in spikes. His arms and legs were like solid trunks of black petrified wood that branched out at the feet and hands. But all this was nothing compared to the change made on his head.

Four separate roots had started by wrapping around his neck like some wrought iron noose with all ends coming together at the front. Then
, like twisted rope soaked in crude oil, it came up the front of his face. It was about the thickness of my wrist but smaller branches broke off the spiral and spread out, covering his entire face. This created thin slanted eyes as his only feature left showing and within their depths looked like burning hot coals. Once the branches reached the top of his head, all four pieces uncoiled and flared out into spiralled horns. Now he really looked like a battering ram, only this time of the animal variety!

“This isn’t good
.” I whispered aloud my fears and gripped on to my necklace hidden under my clothes for comfort.

“He isn’t a destined Lord for nothing pet…look
.” I felt the nod Sigurd’s way and I tore my eyes from the living tree monster to see another monster in the making.

Once again I was witness to the extensive tattoos on Sigurd’s body as they all started to spin. Only
, unlike last time in Afterlife’s VIP, I was now seeing all of them that covered the vast space of muscled skin. The thicker snakes that slashed diagonally across his chest were the first to start moving and by the time the last one on his middle finger started joining in, the ones across his chest had picked up speed. The thickest of these looked like an Aztec design, where the one next to that was obviously of Asian ancestry, looking more like a dragon than a snake. Whatever their design though, they were all now very much alive and a part of him; creatures in their own right swimming against the current of flesh and bone.

Soon
, they were all spinning in opposite directions so quickly they became a blur, one that melted into each other and left behind over half a black body. It was as if someone had grabbed his hand and just dipped him into a vat of black paint with only one shoulder, arm and his head remaining untouched. This didn’t last for long.

The parts of him that had rem
ained unblemished soon became sucked into the shadows that started to seep from his very pores and float around him like clouds of black ink in water. It was as though every beat of his heart was feeding the darkness that wanted to cover its master from head to toe.

The
Drekavac snarled in a way that sounded as if claws were raking lines into tree bark and in response the shadows howled like the wind whistling, before slamming into your window in anger.

The now black covered Sigurd rolled his neck
, as the shadows finally took the remainder of his body into its mist, including his face, so that the only constant feature that remained seen was a pair of blazing eyes. Even his desert sand coloured hair had become as black as the moonless night.

“That’s a lot of power I can feel there
, buddy.” Sigurd said and even his voice had dropped into the fearsome demonic realm. The Drekavac didn’t reply but just snarled some more. Sigurd circled closer and then tipped his head forward in a provoking manner.

“You fancy a lot more
...? Then you come and get it, pretty girl!” Sigurd finished taunting the Drekavac, making him roar. Then the band started blasting their instruments into the height of the heavy rock song in perfect timing for the fight to begin. And boy, did it begin!

Every eye in the room looked on as the roaring
Drekavac ripped his rooted limbs from the ground and charged at my shadowed knight. His four horns became his only weapon, ones pointing directly at Sigurd’s chest and just before they hit their target his body disappeared, leaving a smoking shell of his shape behind. The Drekavac broke through the mist at the same time my chest released my held breath in a painful shudder.

“Looking for me
, dipshit?” Sigurd said before connecting his blackened fist into the side of the Drekavac’s head, after a jump in the air to gain momentum for the downward thrust. His knuckles burst through the splintering wood, causing charred shards to scatter to the floor. The Drekavac didn’t take long to regain his balance after a clumsy step to the side and then he spun to grab hold of Sigurd in a bear hug. The problem with this, was that one second his arms were closing in on a solid body and the next, they were encasing fading black vapour.

I was sta
rting to get a good sense as to where Sigurd’s power lay, as it was indeed hard to hurt someone you couldn’t first catch. Each reach and every lunge was met with nothing gained by the Drekavac, but the same could not be said for Sigurd. Whether it was his fist or his foot, each meant a direct hit that would once again take chunks from the wooden beast.

I was just letting my hope firmly ground itself deep within me
, to a point it was re-forming more into a knowing defeat on the Drekavac’s part. That was until I looked deeper. A depth that forced a hard reality to seep in and start acknowledging just what a Drekavac could really do and that was…bloody regenerate.

Every hit the
Drekavac took, every piece now missing from its grotesque form, was just another that could be healed. More roots were silently called from the ground to slither up their brothers and find home amongst the new space made. This now begged the question from the opposing side, for even if you couldn’t catch a shadow to hit, how could you kill when your shadowed hits meant nothing?

The
Drekavac, who was now fully healed, had backed up for another charge and I once again tensed as if ready to take the impact for myself. Sigurd stood tall, waiting and looking impatient for something he was waiting to happen.

“You wanna dance now
...? Then come on …come on…COME ON!” Sigurd bellowed out making four massive smoked serpents emerge from his back. The Drekavac’s four horns twisted round to point more firmly readying himself for a killing blow. Then he let rip. He ran flat out towards Sigurd and I couldn’t help but scream out when I saw Sigurd side step but not quickly enough. The horned head flicked out, catching my warrior which propelled him behind the Drekavac.

However
, Sigurd’s step didn’t even falter and something unbelievable happened. Sigurd snapped his head back around and smiled at the beast.

“Now
, it’s really time to dance, bitch!” My mouth opened in shock and with Sigurd’s next move, it stayed that way. He opened out his arms wide to his sides and his head went back, looking up to the ceiling. Then he said in the calmest voice one would not expect in this moment,

“Go play
, boys.” And at this soft command, the serpents behind him shot forward, striking their prey at a ferocious speed. Each of his pets opened their vapour jaws, just before they crushed down on each branched limb and then with the click of Sigurd’s fingers they shot back, taking their pickings with them. The Drekavac travelled the distance across the ring, as if he had been blasted that way by a great cannon at his back. Just as it neared Sigurd, he then kicked out aiming his booted foot square in the Drekavac’s chest. 

Three sounds simultaneously echoed around every witness in the room. The howling of Sigurd’s serpen
ts in a conquering battle cry, the screaming agony of a Demon’s defeat, and more importantly, the sounds of four wooden limbs being ripped away from the torso that held them all together. A torso that was also making its way flying backwards from the impact of Sigurd’s kick….minus its legs and arms, of course. No, these were still in the possession of Sigurd’s pets, pets that seem to be in no hurry to part with their new spoils of war.

Everyone in the room seemed to be frozen. I expected any moment to hear the wild shouts of obvious victory for my friend and held my breath waiting for them. But like before…

They never came.

And like before
, they never came because I was the only one in the room who didn’t know what was happening or what to expect from these two fighters.

“Why…why is no one clapping?” I whispered to the presence at my back and I felt his hold tense quickly before he answered me.

“Because, it is yet to be finished.” He whispered back and I felt a frustrated tear form. I didn’t know how much more my heart could take of this!

“
Klaar.” (means ‘Be Ready’ in Dutch) Sigurd said turning his head slightly to the side as if talking to his pets. At this, the huge rows of teeth each retracted from the limbs they held tight and each thudded to the floor like forgotten logs. The torso, that had remained unmoving, started to suddenly vibrate. It danced around on the floor as though there was someone trapped inside, trying to break free. The horned head whipped back violently, snapping some of the bark around its neck. Then, the roots started to fuse with the ground and before a noise could be uttered, they fired forward like a poison travelling through the veins of the earth. They hit Sigurd suddenly and before he could react, it latched onto his foot like a shackle. His body went taut like some puppet master had just pulled his strings. It looked as though he was being electrocuted.

All four serpents
’ heads roared in anger, before they started to get sucked back into Sigurd’s body. They each shrunk away to nothing and with them the black smoke that concealed most of his body. It was like a vacuum was sucking his powers back through his pores and straight down to his foot. The numerous tattoos of war paint started to melt from his skin and down to the twisted wood that kept him prisoner. It was literally drinking the demonic essence right out of him. 

I tried to stand
, but the arms from the man behind me held me down.

“NO!” I screamed again and fought to escape my capture.