The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1) (23 page)

“God damn!” Dante shouted
along with pretty much everyone else in the house.

“Is it over?” I asked Dante.
But it was Mr. Tsang who answered; he must have heard my question.

“No. There are two parts to
this fight. Bare hands and then swords.”

“Swords!” Both Dante and I
said in unison staring at Mr. Tsang.

That’s what was in those long
boxes the guard carried into the dressing room. I knew Maze told me he was good
with blades too but I never realized he actually fought with them. It was after
all how he got some of those cuts, so I guess it made sense but I had to take a
few deep breaths. I wasn’t expecting to see him fight with swords tonight. But
wait his opponent had been knocked out would he still be allowed to fight with
swords? Oh God, what if Maze hurt the man? Not for one moment did I think Maze
would lose.

I leaned forward to ask Mr.
Tsang. “Is the opponent with the swords the same guy?” But someone walked past
me and stopped in front of Mr. Tsang’s seat. The young man bent down and said
something to him. I was already leaning forward and watching him, so I saw the
frown on his face and then his eyes narrowed. I didn’t know him very well, but
he looked angry. He said something in rapid fire Chinese, I think, to the
bodyguard next to him. The man pulled out his cell and texted something. What
the hell was going on?

The announcer stepped forward
to the center of the stage. The low level voices of people talking in the place
immediately quieted. “There’s a change in the second part of the competition.
Souta Goya will finish the competition for the blades.”

The rest of what he said was
drowned out by the cheers. I took that to mean this guy was a favorite. I leaned
closer to Dante. “Can they do that?”

Dante shrugged. “I have no
idea. I’m not sure what the rules are in fights like these. They’re definitely
under the radar if not outright ilegal, so I’m sure they have their own rules.”

Apparently they could because
another man, he looked older than Maze, maybe late twenties early thirties,
walked onto the stage. He might have been a couple of inches taller than Maze
and seemed broader in the shoulders. A shorter guy walked beside him carrying a
case. They walked toward the referee who now stood center stage. Maze and his
trainer also walked to meet them in the center. Maze’s trainer carried the case
I’d seen earlier in the dressing room. The referee nodded and then the
trainers, I guessed that would be the shorter guy with the new opponent. They
opened the cases at the same time to show the referee. He merely looked at them
without touching them. He nodded then each man closed the cases and they turned
to walk back to their respective sides. But Maze and the newcomer still stood
staring at each other, neither willing to give an inch. Where before I hadn’t
really been too worried about Maze and the first fighter, a chill went through
me at what was about to come. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Finally, the referee stepped
in front of both men effectively cutting off their stare down. They returned to
their trainers who stood holding the cases open. I focused on Maze when he
stopped in front of his trainer. He bowed to the man then removed the swords. I
don’t know why I thought there would just be one sword. This wasn’t fencing,
this was something else. I suspected I was about to see the true brutality of
this sport. Maze raised them crossed over each other over his head. He pulled
them apart so hard and fast I could have sworn I saw sparks. I was close enough
to hear the slide of the blades against each other. Then I heard an echoing
sound and my gaze travelled to the other side of the stage. His opponent had
done the same thing. Then he turned around. A blade in each hand extended out
and away from his body. My head swung back toward Maze’s side and he too
mirrored the stance.

The referee beckoned both men
toward him, they stopped about an arm’s length or blade length away from him.
The man raised the red ribbon held in his hand into the air and then lowered
it, quickly stepping out of the way. He’d only taken about two steps when the
sound of the blades meeting ricocheted around the room. This, this was what
Maze feared me seeing.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Maze

I had expected something like
this. As soon as I saw how much trouble Jai had coming around I knew there was
no way he’d be allowed back into the second part of this fight. Even this kind
of competition had some rules. They tried not to get their fighters killed.
Especially on American soil. A death brought questions and unwanted attention
to these kinds of fights. Something no one wanted. In truth, Jai shouldn’t have
been allowed to fight to begin with. It was only because certain Triad members
thought I would throw the fight. Like hell. But this guy. It was not unheard of
to replace a downed fighter. I’d heard of him, he was a shadow fighter. There
were underground fighting organization and then there were secretive
organizations, this guy’s name had been associated with both. The kind of
fights where folks got killed.

By now those sons of bitches
knew I wasn’t throwing the fight, so they thought to teach me a lesson, by
sending in an assassin. Oh yes, I understood exactly what he was what he had to
be, because I was that good and it was what the Triad really wanted of me. Or
this could have been their plan all along. A test. I didn’t give a fuck. It
didn’t matter; the outcome for me had to be the same. I had to put this bastard
down, without killing him. Not gonna be easy because I knew he’d aim for kill
shots. When the referee stepped out of the way I didn’t wait, I already knew
this man would not reveal himself in his stillness but by his movement. So I
needed him to move to read him. Fucker’s first blows were decisive but also I
was testing. Testing for tells of my opponent’s movements. It took awhile, but
I began to feel his patterns, but in doing so I realized he’d also been testing
me, and I knew I’d revealed some of my own, the trick was to make sure I learned
more from him than he did from me.

I lost track of everything
but the movement of my body and my Ninjato blades, the swords used for these
fights. My blades and I were one, each move calculated in a split second and
perfectly executed. Goya was shirtless, like me, and the line of red running
along his bicep that hadn’t been there the moment before told me I’d drawn
first blood. In other arenas that would have been enough to end the fight with
a win for me, but not this one, I understood that. It would take more. I moved
like I’d never moved in my life because I fought for me, I fought for Joe and
yes, Ivy too. I fought for that life. I was not born to lose. I knew what I had
to do. There was only one way, more blood would have to spill. It would not be
mine. I fought with perfect synchronicity, no mistakes, biding my time, until I
saw my opening. It would only last an infinitesimal amount of time. I spun,
twisting my torso completely around, he was off center and his aim to block my
blade was off, it was too high. I finished the turn in a crouch, my blades
crisscrossing over each other in a deadly arch. If I were standing he’d have
ripped open my stomach. Instead I crippled him; I sliced him just above the
knees. He screamed and dropped on his side on the floor, losing his grip on the
blades as he fell. I stepped back breathing hard. It took me several minutes
before I came back to reality and I heard the roar of the crowd. I felt Lee
take the swords and then wrap his arms around me. I’d won. I just hoped I
hadn’t sold my soul while I was at it.

For the first time I allowed
myself to glance into the audience to try to see beyond the lighted stage to
the row of seats in the front. I knew where Ivy was seated, but there were too
many people who’d rushed to the front of the stage, and climbed it now
surrounding me, patting my arms, my head and blocked my view. Lee pushed them
aside and heralded me to the center of the stage, the extra people moved aside
for us to walk to where the announcer stood. He held a mic in his hand and made
the formal announcement proclaiming me the champion. He also held a check in
his hand. I shook his hand with one hand and reached for the check with the
other, several flashes went off. Then I was presented with the championship belt,
Lee helped me get it on and this time I heard the roar of the crowd chanting my
name.

I raised my hands in the air.
I’d done it. For a second the crowd parted and I saw her, standing on her
crutches and it looked like she was smiling and crying at the same time. I
can’t even begin to explain the emotions that ran through me at the sight of
her. But the strongest of all was my love for her. I’d fallen in love with her
that day when I saw her doing those crazy leaps on the beach and I loved her
now. I needed her now. I wanted to jump off the stage and go straight to her
but there were too many people in the way. Fuck it! I ran for the edge of the
stage and leaped into the air doing a summersault, people got the hell out of
the way. I landed right in front of Ivy. I immediately saw she had been crying
and she still was. I wiped her tears away and wrapped my arms around her. I
felt her arms go around me. I smiled because she must have dropped her
crutches. She’d been leaning on them when I saw her. I lowered my head and just
before my lips covered hers, I said, “I love you.”

Yeah. I was where I needed to
be with whom I needed. Life was good. I had won.

I was never more wrong.

About The
Author

Ursula Sinclair is the alter ego for
LaVerne Thompson, an award winning, best-selling, multi-published author, an
avid reader and a writer of contemporary, fantasy, and sci/fi sensual romances.
She writes romantic suspense and new adult under the pen name Ursula Sinclair.

She is currently working on several
projects and also writes interactive character storylines for a free read site.
http://rpworldgroup.org

Visit her website at
http://lavernethompson.com
to read
excerpts of her books. Or join her on Facebook at
http://facebook.com/groups/lavernesnews
. On Twitter at
http://twitter.com/lavernethompson

BOOKS BY LaVERNE
THOMPSON

**Self-Published from Isisindc Publishing

Dragon’s Heart- Story of the Brethren

**Horny Devil Publishing

Skye High

**From Red Rose Publishing

Promises

Hold On

Ringside- Book 1 The Three Sisters Series

Masquerade- Book 3 The Three Sisters Series