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Shelby took a sip of the Shirley Temple she'd quietly ordered from the waitstaff.
She'd come on a little trip to the south to get some inspiration for her story. She had an idea, now she was simply doing research. After some tactical questioning, she was directed to a town that she'd forgotten the name of. Supposedly this was where the fun stuff was. At least three guilds were based here. Several assassins made this a rest stop. It was supposedly a haven for crime and lawbreakers. And rivals settling their score in a fight club. Her curiosity was piqued. She spoke to the sheriff, who refused to say anything, and headed to the saloon instead. After some tactical flirting with the bartender, she was given instructions to the location of the fight club. Lucky for her, being in the Goldsmith coven gave her plenty of status. Now she sat with some of the highest-profile people in the desert (the sheriff included, amusingly enough), waiting for the fighting to begin.
While drinking a Shirley fucking Temple.
"Look, dearie, the fights are starting," whispered the woman to her left, a lovely fae named Graecie who was showing her around.
Shelby turned her attention to the ring below. It was a floor of sand mixed with salt. There was a circle drawn in the sand. Graecie had explained how the fights worked. The reigning champion from the previous night sat on the sidelines. All those who wished to challenge them had to fight each other in a bracket-style competition. The fight ended either when one of the fighters was pushed out of the ring, knocked unconscious, or forfeit the battle. Obviously, it was terribly dishonest and several people tried to interfere with it or fought dirty. But, Graecie said, that was half the fun. Finally, the victor of that night would fight the champion from the previous night in the very last battle. The winner would have to show up the next day to fight. Eventually, they got dethroned, and the cycle restarted.
"Oh!" Shelby yelped as the first two fighters immediately began whaling on each other.
This was... a lot more violent than she'd anticipated at first. Huh. As the night went on, the atmosphere got rowdier and rowdier. Only up in the high-class balcony did everyone stay mostly calm. Shelby was very glad to be up here. The current winner (and crowd favorite) was an average height, well-built guy who the crowd called "Shep" or "Sheep" or something. Graecie didn't like him much but refused to tell Shelby why, claiming she didn't want to influence her.
"And, if there are no other fighters, this is our final battle?" asked the announcer.
No objections from the crowd. The reigning champion had been sitting behind a raggedy faded silk curtain. Graecie had pointed him out to Shelby at the beginning of the night. He'd never once gotten up from his spot, watching the fights. A bartender had slipped behind the curtain and left with the same amount of drinks as they'd entered with. Hm.
"Then let's see who tonight's champion shall be!" The announcer crowed.
The crowd was so quiet you could hear the soft sigh from behind the curtain. The champion stood up and pushed the curtain aside, stepping out into the light and squaring up for the fight.
Shelby almost dropped her glass.
Abolish Veylocke—Oakhurst's Abolish Veylocke—was standing in the ring, lazily stretching. He was shirtless (unrelated, but hot damn), eyes narrow. Shelby hadn't seen the guy for a solid two decades, yet it seemed as though he hadn't aged a day. She didn't have time to contemplate that, though, as the fight began. She was watching with full interest now as the two circled each other slowly.
"Someone's happy to see our reigning champion," Graecie teased.
Shelby blushed, though she wasn't too sure why. Graecie smirked before turning her attention back to the fight. Shelby did the same. She wanted Abolish to win. Fuck, she was really invested in this. Everyone cheered as Abolish landed a hit. Shelby found herself cheering too. Shep landed a hit in turn. Still, it didn't faze Abolish at all. He moved with the same careful poise as he had in Oakhurst. What a butler was doing in a fight club, she had no idea. But it was definitely her Abolish, and not some lookalike. As she watched the fight move on, she couldn't help but be very glad they hadn't had to fight Abolish very much. He was good. Scary good. She rested her chin on her hand, tuning out the shouts and slipping into a daydream of how the fight club scene in her book would go.
She was torn out of it by the sudden sharp tang of blood on the air. Her whole body stiffened instinctively. She refocused on the battle and stifled a gasp. Abolish had sank to his knees, pressing a hand against his side. Blood was already dripping though his fingers. Shep spun a knife in one hand gleefully. Next to Shelby, Graecie was swearing under her breath as various people stood up with yells of protest.
"Filthy, dishonorable," Abolish spat, "scum."
Shep just smiled, pressing the blade to the side of Abolish's neck. Shelby took a sharp breath she didn't need.
"Scum I may be, but scum that has won. Do you cede?"
Shelby could already sense the heaviness of death weighing upon Abolish like a cloud of smoke. She'd just found him for the first time since Oakhurst and now he was already dying? Bullshit.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she whispered under her breath, unsurprised to see several others murmuring their own prayers (Graecie included).
"I do not cede," Abolish said sharply.
Shelby didn't even catch it, Abolish moved so fast. One moment he was on his knees bleeding out, the next he was on his feet, Shep staggering backwards with the force of his kick. Abolish brute-forced him to the edge of the ring, holding him just within the boundaries.
"Don't bring a knife to a fistfight, dipshit," he hissed before tossing Shep out of the boundary like a ragdoll.
Shelby could barely hear her own thoughts as everyone stood up, cheering and screaming. Money poured between hands like water, the clinking of coins and ruffling of bills loud and clear. In the commotion, she spotted Abolish grab a flask and slip out a back door. Glancing around, she went invisible and followed.
Outside, Abolish was sitting down, back to the wall as he took a slow sip from the flask. He seemed less than concerned about the actively bleeding wound in his stomach. He set the flask down. Once again, Shelby could smell blood. And not just from Abolish's actively bleeding wound.
No, the blood smell was coming from the flask. That Abolish had just drank from.
"Abolish?"
He did not startle, simply looking up and nodding a greeting. Still, she noticed his fingers grasp the flask so tightly his knuckles went white.
"Lady of the Goldsmith coven. I heard you were present."
"Gods, is that my title? Really?"
"So I've heard," he agreed. "I've also heard you be called the second in command of the Goldsmith coven, so I'm taking things with a grain of salt."
He took another sip from the flask. The wound on his abdomen slowly stitched itself together. Shelby watched, almost mesmerized. So, Abolish was not human.
"My eyes are up here," Abolish offered.
She blushed before meeting his gaze. His eyes were the same as they were in Oakhurst, cold and dark and calculating.
"Do you care to join me, or are you just going to stand there?"
Shelby very carefully sat down opposite him. He downed the last of the flask and stretched his arms above his head. She caught herself staring at his rippling muscles before tearing her gaze away.
"What did you think of the fights?" He asked with a small exhale.
"I didn't like them much," she answered.
She had no fucking idea why he was being so friendly with her. Sure, Cleo had mentioned he'd come back to Oakhurst once and explained he had no hard feelings, but still. He was being awfully welcoming. Shelby didn't trust it one bit. Even if he was really really handsome.
"Not even mine?" He asked, lips quirking upwards at the edges in what seemed to be a smile. She was not used to him smiling. He should smile more often.
"I was more surprised to see you," she replied. "Are we going to talk about that, by the way?"
He closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his face to the star-sprinkled sky. When he met her gaze again, he looked less genial and more analytical.
"You are returning to Oakhurst with the rest of your coven in a week, or so Cleo tells me. I will be there. I'll explain everything. I would prefer it if you did not inform the others of this meeting," he answered.
"I... I can do that," she decided.
She didn't want to keep a secret. She'd already been formatting a letter to Drift about this. But... she would respect his boundaries. He'd explain everything, surely. Yeah, he would.
"Are you enjoying your stay here?" He asked, standing up and stretching again.
"I am, yes," she answered.
He smiled again, a bit more fake, more practiced. "Glad to hear it."
Shelby stood as well, watching him carefully. She finally asked the question that had been on her mind.
"You drank blood and healed. But you're not a vampire. How?"
"All in Oakhurst, darlin'," he replied, voice slipping into a slight southern drawl. That made sense. He was from the south. Still, it was jarring when he'd just been speaking to her in what was probably a fake neutral accent.
"Fine then, be like that," she huffed, mostly joking.
Abolish let out a surprised laugh as his smile turned real. It slipped from his face once more.
"Will you be coming back tomorrow to fight?" Shelby asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.
"Will you?" Abolish countered.
She considered this. She hadn't really observed her surroundings enough tonight. She would be there tomorrow.
"I will," she answered.
Abolish smiled as he pulled the back entrance open again, sending a wave of heat out.
"Then I will be there."