Part 3 (2/2)

I'd won the first challenge. No one appeared with a medal to place around my fuzzy neck, no balloons dropped down from the ceiling, no one patted my back to say ”Well done!” And while I didn't exactly expect a supernatural parade complete with black cats on unicycles, I had expected something more . . . mystical. I changed, returning to my human side and adding b.l.o.o.d.y human footprints to the tiger ones. Now what? I stood naked again, with no bouncer in a tacky T-s.h.i.+rt in sight. I reached the floor polisher and sighed, exhausted and still freaked out.

If it wasn't for the sudden change in the air, I wouldn't have sensed the giant newt springing at me. With more reflex than strategy, I gripped the handlebars of the floor polisher and swung. The newt bounced off the wall and slumped in front of me, nothing more but ground, battered meat and bone piercing through rubberlike skin.

This time, I needed to make sure he was dead. I bashed in his skull until my face dripped with red death and I couldn't see, only feel. Feel the bones crunch like wet marbles, feel the warm blood turn cold against my heated flesh, feel my muscles scream with stress and tension.

”Miss Celia, what are you do-eeng?”

I jumped and dropped the handlebars. My hands slapped at my saturated face, trying to see through the glop. Eduardo, one of the day-s.h.i.+ft custodians, stood by the double doors with a mini version of the trash bins on wheels. I gaped at my b.l.o.o.d.y hands, then at the blood pooling from my chin onto the floor. My eyes searched the confines of the room. No other blood but mine in sight. The cracked cinderblock had repaired itself, the pizza boxes, cups, and other garbage had returned to the heap. And the broken chairs lay piled neatly in the corner. Absolutely no other evidence of a high-noon magical showdown . . . with the exception of a very small, very dead, very mutilated newt the size of my palm near my feet. This was more of the ending to round one I'd expected, minus Eduardo.

”Um. Hi, Eduardo.” I pointed to the newt. ”I was killing that lizard thingy,” I responded with total sincerity.

Eduardo didn't bother to take in the newt. Just me. Go figure. ”But why are you bleed-eeng . . . and nay-ked?”

My hands gripped my girl parts. Oh, G.o.d.

I ripped one of the giant red medical waste bags off a hook and wrapped it around me like a towel. ”It's a long story.” Well. Not really. ”Can I borrow your phone, Eduardo?” My face matched the color of the bag perfectly. Good heavens, how many more men could see me naked?

Eduardo's head jerked from the phone at his hip, right back to me. He shook his head, quite hysterically I might add. ”No. No. Dees ees no good, Miss Celia. Dees is berry, berry bad.” Eduardo abandoned his bin and backed away like I carried a grenade and asked him if he wouldn't mind holding the pin.

”Eduardo, wait-”

He didn't. And for the second time in a week, I found myself on top of a male, naked. Eduardo was pretty d.a.m.n slippery for a human, or maybe my sweat-soaked and b.l.o.o.d.y skin had something to do with it. I held him down while I phoned Shayna. I guessed she called Emme and someone reached out to Taran. They skidded into the bowels of the hospital within minutes to find me dripping with newt juice, naked, and riding a custodian like Sea Biscuit.

Taran took my reptilian romp, well, just as I'd expected.

”Son of b.i.t.c.h. You wrestled a lizard!”

”Newt,” I muttered while Emme healed me. The gash across my face was wide open. No wonder Eduardo kept screaming. Or perhaps he had a fear of newts.

Shayna borrowed the mop Eduardo carried in his bin to wash clean the footprints. ”I don't like this, dude. You could have been killed. And this was only round one.”

”But I wasn't.”

Taran's breath increased like she'd run a marathon. ”That stupid b.i.t.c.h.” Tears streaked down her face. ”You should have let me handle this, Celia. If you'd hadn't invoked that G.o.d d.a.m.n Ninth Law-”

”Then we would all be fighting for our lives,” I finished for her. My skin tightened as Emme's pale yellow light fused my flesh to seal my wound. With her power, there wouldn't even be a scar. That didn't mean healing didn't hurt like a m.o.f.o. I gritted my teeth as the burning sensation receded. ”I think they came to slap us around, with the hopes that maybe they could find an excuse to kill us. But you using magic from the earth was their excuse to issue a death challenge.” I squeezed her hand. ”We've discussed this, Taran. This is the only way to get what we want.”

Taran scowled. ”What if you don't make it? The newt's poisoned skin is proof she wouldn't lose sleep if you died.”

Shayna swept up the remains of my rival and tossed the little critter in a small trash can. Her thin brows frowned with worry and fear. A single tear fell, streaking a line down her pixie face.

Emme kept her head down. Her timid soul allowed her tears to fall in tandem, never one to hold back her emotions, but always slightly embarra.s.sed she couldn't bury them as deeply as I could. I envied her in a way. I wished I could cry then, or scream from the wickedness of it all. But I couldn't. I never could. I recognized my sisters were no longer the frightened children I had once s.h.i.+elded. They were grown, independent women, capable of living on their own and surviving. Yet despite their self-rule and strength, they still fed from my courage. So I didn't weep, didn't scream, didn't tear the room apart. Even though I very much wanted do.

I placed my hand on her shoulder. ”Look. If it comes down to me dying, I'll plead misericordia, I promise.”

Emme's soft green eyes glistened. ”Wh-what if she doesn't honor your surrender?”

I didn't know how to answer her. Lying fell under my Things I Didn't Do list. ”Well, let's just hope that she does.” My words did little to comfort my sisters and disturbed Eduardo even more. He wriggled beneath me frantically. I hauled him to his feet and held him in front of Taran as Emme's light receded. ”Make sure he forgets everything he saw.” I glimpsed at my naked and blood-caked form. ”Everything.”

Chapter Six.

Another night pa.s.sed without me sleeping. Dueling with witches was for the birds-birds who apparently didn't require an ounce of shut-eye. Exhausted as my tigress claimed we felt, I welcomed the day when the rising sun peeked beneath my shades. ”Let's get this over with, Larissa,” I muttered and stumbled out of bed.

I padded along the dark hardwood floors into the half-tiled bathroom in a tank top and panties-my dress of choice for bed. The architect had designed two master suites. Taran had the other one. Emme and Shayna seemed excited just to have their own rooms for once. I adjusted the spaghetti strap that had fallen from my shoulder after I finished was.h.i.+ng my face. I reached for my toothbrush and got down to business. c.r.a.p, my mouth seemed so dry.

My reflection showed me I looked just as bad as I felt. Dark circles swirled around my green eyes, the muscles of my shoulders and arms strained with tension, and my big hair had reached Monsters of Rock proportions. If men hadn't found me scary before, they sure as h.e.l.l would have now.

I rinsed my mouth and reached for my towel. I wiped my lips, frowning when my white towel somehow appeared pink in the mirror. My eyes scanned the bathroom, searching for something that might be affecting the color. I turned back and jumped when my reflection greeted me with a smile that wasn't mine and two big middle fingers. OmiG.o.d. My mirror image threw back her head and laughed. I didn't. I also didn't blow myself a kiss.

My knees buckled under me and I staggered back, slamming into the double doors as I watched my reflection leap over the tiled counter and land in a crouch on the floor. She rose slowly, her messy hair falling around her face and shoulders, watching me with hungry and sinister eyes. Her tongue slid across her upper lip. She tasted my fear.

And she liked it.

To fuel my terror she turned her head to the side and kept going. The crunching and snapping of her neck made me cringe. Echoes of her laughter filled the suite until the back of her long tresses hung over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s-my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Oh, G.o.d. Her head whipped back and she smiled with glee, pleased by my horror.

Self. I had to fight my . . . self.

I continued to gape until her shoulders collided into my stomach and jetted me into my bedroom. The back of my skull became one with the footboard of my sleigh bed. And that's when my tigress snapped to it. I dug my fingers into her hair and wrenched it back. It felt just . . . like . . . my . . . hair-further wigging me out. She screamed with my voice as I wrenched her off me. We rolled on the floor punching and clawing each other. Her blows and scratches were as hard as mine, but mine were more strategic. I raked my claws across her chest, missing her throat by less than an inch. Her eyes widened with fear. She knew I was going to kill her. She knew she needed reinforcements. And she knew where to find them.

Frantic pounding and yelling ensued outside my door. ”Celia? Dude, are you okay?” Shayna wiggled the k.n.o.b. ”It's locked.”

That's when Bad Celia got dirty. ”Help me! Shayna, please help me!”

”Move!” Shayna yelled. A machete cut through the crease in the door and yanked to the side. With a grunt, Shayna splintered the door open.

”Holy s.h.i.+t!” Taran screamed when she found me kicking my own a.s.s.

Larissa's other-me and I rolled into Emme, knocking her into Shayna. She screamed. ”Which one is Celia?”

”Celia!” Taran yelled. ”Tell us something only you would know.”

”Like what?” the other me asked in my same raspy voice.

Screw that. I nailed her in the mouth so she couldn't speak, which earned me a jolt of lightning from Taran. My teeth chattered and my hair smoked. ”That's her!” Taran yelled, motioning toward me.

”Dude! Are you sure?” Shayna asked, her machete pointed dangerously in my direction.

”Of course I am! That b.i.t.c.h is trying to keep her from telling us the stuff only Celia knows.”

I kicked Bad Celia off me and launched a discarded screwdriver into her stomach. Unfortunately, her speed mimicked mine. She dove out of the way and into the bathroom. It would have nailed Emme had she not blocked it with her force. The screwdriver fell with a loud clang. Emme glanced from it to me, appearing crushed I could do such a thing, further reinforcing that I was the imposter.

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