The Dragon King's Shaman

The Games

Kaius

Thick molten hatred flowed through my veins like lava. How long had I waited to get my pet back? She would pay dearly when I got my hands on her again. Over three lunar years with nothing, as if she’d winked out of existence. When she first ran, I thought it would make for an exciting chase. Let her get so far, then ensnare her back to me, punishing her for thinking she could get away. It seemed a spicy addition to our interactions that had grown so boring, like playing with a broken toy. How wrong I’d been.

The knowledge that I had her running scared now, even from so far away, ignited my instincts to chase. He told me she would be forced to come closer to me and, given he’d been right about her mystery guardian, I would trust him for now. An enemy of my enemy. So, I would pull on my sticky web and pull her closer. Drawing it out would make the resulting fear higher and taste so much sweeter. I had things to deal with first.

Pax shuffled into my office and bowed low. “The guests have arrived, master.”

“Sit, Pax. Tell me what you know.”

He hesitated, then took a seat. The carved mahogany desk bore a crystal decanter of whiskey with glasses closest to him. I inclined my head in invitation, and he poured himself a drink. He motioned to me with the bottle before wincing. He couldn’t see my lips pressed together behind the mask I wore, but he will have caught the flash of my eyes.

“Forgive me, master.” He lowered his head.

I clenched my fist, and the leather of my black gloves creaked. It would be a shame to kill him again. He was my most reliable foot soldier. How many more resurrections did a lower-level demon like him have? It wasn’t his fault I could not join him in a simple beverage. No, it was hers. Hatred burned deep in my blackened tissues.

How long was it since I felt the heat of alcohol flow down my throat? Over two years, at least since my skin desiccated and my internal organs shrivelled as if mummified. No pleasure of the body reached me. Only magic and my dried-up muscles drove my bones forward. Pain I could still cause, but it felt like ash on my dried tongue. She would pay for making me suffer the balance’s price.

“Tell me of the guests.” Heat flushed through my husk of a body. My fire was eager to burn something, to consume and destroy.

“Two alpha wolves, a beta, and a tiger shifter. I suspect the wolves will kill him in the arena before they even hunt. One asked about the prey specifically.”

“That’s common.”

“He was interested in the female.”

“The female is mine to hunt,” I said, sneering.

Pax inclined his head. “Of course, I told him such.”

I studied the cabinet of torture weapons on the wall by the door. “Do we need to kill him before the games start?”

“No, we’ll lose the others. One of them is related. I have arranged an accident.”

“Good, make sure he barely survives, then he can watch me slit her throat.”

My chest expanded, and I basked in the sensation; It was a shadow of what I used to feel. Even the enjoyment of inflicting pain had lessened.

Pax nodded. He drew a breath, then closed his mouth.

“Speak.”

“It’s just… the human police, they grow suspicious.”

“The human police are beneath our notice,” I scoffed.

“They are, but the police aren’t beneath his notice.”

I cursed. The very reason I wore this disguise. Humiliated into hiding, so that word didn’t reach him.

“Why now? For years we have taken the worthless from the streets and prisons.”

“Yes, but...”

I snatched up a dagger from the desk and drove it into Pax’s hand on my desk. He howled and went to stand despite being pinned to the wood.

“Sit down,” I said, my voice a hiss.

He panted, regaining his breath. His black blood pooled on my desk from his impaled hand.

“Tell me, without hesitation, why this wrinkle has occurred. We can’t draw his attention when we are so close to recovering my pet.”

“I’m sorry, master.” He drew a shaky breath. “It's difficult to find females we take. The specifications you require. They aren’t common.”

“Red hair is common enough.”

“But it’s uncommon enough to force us to take women that aren’t homeless or imprisoned.”

I cursed. My pet had always had that distinctive hair. I relished seeing it flash around a corner as I stalked closer to her, drawn by the exquisite smell of fear on the air.

“Where did you get the latest one?”

“We snatched her from an alley outside a nightclub.”

Rage burst inside me. How had he been so stupid? I leapt over the desk, landing on his chest. Conjuring my fire, I burned my way into his chest cavity as he screamed. I lambasted through his tissues like a knife through butter. Flesh burned as my fist closed over his heart. The leather of my glove curled up and fell away. Twisting my hand, I pulled the lump of muscle out, enjoying its weight on my palm before it burned to a dark pile of ash. Pax’s body slumped forward, and I stood back as his body slithered from the chair, his hand still nailed to my desk.

“If you get another resurrection, I expect you to be more f*****g careful next time,” I said to his corpse.

Maybe it was time to move locations. After this game, we would move again.

I walked out of the room, clapping the shoulder of the demon at the door.

“Clear up the mess in my office.”

Pax would either learn from his mistake or be confined to the depths of hell for good.

I moved to the control room. A large monitor showed me my extensive underground amphitheatre. Miles and miles of towering stone structures carved out of underground rock, cliff like ledges leading to pits of stone spikes meant to impale and bleed a victim. Caves to hide in only to be burned out and forced to traverse slippery stepping stones across lakes of liquid fire. Yes, my Venatic Arena looked a lot like the human depiction of hell. My favourite playground, one that delighted my senses.

“How are they doing?” I asked the demon at the control desk.

He sat in front of the wall of monitors.

“One human is already dead. Fell from a ledge in sector five.”

He nodded at the monitor in the top right corner. A human man’s body lay at the base of a pit, unmoving.

“How many remain?”

“Five male and the female.”

“Is she hiding and crying yet?” My lip curled.

“No, actually, she is very agile for a human.”

“Really?”

“An accomplished runner. She’s outrun the first round of hell-dogs.”

“Good.” I shifted my weight.

I preferred a challenge. Cowering and crying was boring despite the buffet of fear on the air.

“The guests?”

“Eager to get going. We’ve given them the usual previews. As you can see, it made them eager to start.” He pointed at the bottom left monitor.

I turned my attention to the camera in the guest suite. Two dark-haired men stood, tension in every line of their bodies. They were both well-built. One bounced lightly on his tiptoes, and the other paced lithely like a cat. He must be the weretiger. The third, a little slighter, sat jumping his knee up and down, pretending to keep his cool. The fourth stood by the door, his hands clenched in fists, muttering to himself. I knew instinctively he was the one who asked about my pet.

It was a while since I hunted a guest in my arena. Normally, they merely financed my games. I supplied a place for their depraved fantasies and hunting instincts, free from retribution, and they slaughtered the humans themselves for me to feed to my hell dogs. It was a symbiotic relationship.

“Show me my replacement pet.”

He zoomed the central camera onto a girl with red hair plaited down her back and held in place by a scrap of material. Her clothes were dressy but dirty, and mascara streaked down her face. She crouched, peering around a corner with determination burning in her eyes. I couldn’t wait to catch her and cauterize it from her.

“Run, my little pet, because there’s nowhere to hide.”