Fate's Demand (Twisted Fate, Book 3)

Chapter Fifty-Three

When had the thrill of fighting begun to overshadow the fear of danger?

After multiple deaths, dying didn't scare me, and now I was trained in defense. Still, there was a group of ten in front of me. Each of them was hungry to kill like I was a Thanksgiving turkey and their eyes begged to be fed.

Even with only two to fight beside, I felt excited.

I'd come so far from being the girl who died in the woods, it was laughable.

If I could bring a member of this group to Josh Bevins, the boy who'd tied me to the tree the first time I'd died, he'd finally know what fear truly was. Heck, I could show him something to be afraid of, though this—fighting in a literal life and death situation knowing my opponents wanted me dead—would be much more satisfying.

"Deke?" Marcus asked when the leader took a step forward, out of the shadows.

"You know him?" I asked, darting my eyes between them.

Marcus looked more surprised than I felt, and even more horrified.

The speaker—apparently Deke—laughed low from deep within his chest. His scraggly brown hair hung limply to his chin, not with the oil of poor hygiene but the lifelessness he appeared to have embraced. His skin drooped on his skeleton, making him gaunt, his gait cumbersome, and his eyes void of any of the spark that may have once resided in him. He looked like Brenan—or David, after he'd been hit by my light.

"Marcus?" I asked, ignoring the group now to try and prompt a response by giving him my full attention. "Who is he, Marcus?"

Marcus struggled to turn away from the boy he called Deke.

When his gaze met mine for the briefest moment, it was filled with wonder, disbelief, and, if I was right, betrayal. Were they friends? An acquaintance couldn't provoke such a reaction. There was too much pain. Despite his obvious effort, Marcus couldn't blink it away. He gave up and twisted to face the group again.

I took a step sideways, reaching out. "Mar—"

"Deke is a Dark Soul, Alyssa," he deadpanned. "He was training with us."

"In the seminar?"

It was a dumb question but knowing if Marcus meant in general or today would be good information. Not that it made a difference. Either Darkness could hide like it had with Deryk and Tyler, or take over within hours. Did it have a bad reaction to Dark and Pure Souls? Was the deterioration sped up by the combination? Not if Tyler was any indication. But then, Tyler was fine the first time we met. Annoying, sure, but his dark side hadn't surfaced until hours later. What did it mean?

"You are a great fighter," Deke rasped. "We all watched... you bee... Marcus."

I blinked and turned to face the group, slowly raising my head. "So, you risked taking us both on for what, exactly?"

I placed my hands on my hips. The other nine remained silent, hidden within shadows. Judging from Deke's limited capacity, that wouldn't be a problem.

"Darkness... wants you..."

"Dead?"

He nodded and the intruder on Deke's left—my right—stepped forward. The boy smiled, nodding casually, and was still dressed in his clothes from the seminar. Unlike Deke, he didn't seem weak. My mouth dropped. I looked to Marcus and back. Having seen him spar, I knew he was strong.

"Is that?"

"Yes," Marcus said. "I see him."

"Can we?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe? It won't be easy."

"No, really?" I rolled my eyes. "I mean, can you do it? H-he's your friend."

He looked at me and solemnly said, "We're all somebody's friend, Aly. That doesn't make us good people. If I allow him to live with the damage he could cause?" He shook his head, cleared his throat, and shifted his weight, squaring his shoulders as he faced the group. "If I did that, I could never call myself anyone's friend again."

I couldn't do it. To stand here resolved to fight my friend to the death.

Just a few hours. A few hours and his supposed friend turned foe, and now he was supposed to fight him? Real combat? It sucked. Even with everything I'd seen and experienced, when Marcus had said we'd have to learn to fight dirty because our life might depend on it, I hadn't taken him this seriously.

I knew the danger, but never thought....

I closed my eyes and exhaled, letting Mike's voice come back to me from the very first time we fought one-on-one after class: remove the emotions from the fight and think of your opponent as nothing more than an inanimate, non-breathing obstacle—opponents can't be friends.

It was solid advice.

If I was Marcus and Scottie was Suzie, what would I want?

"How about I take Scottie?" I asked Marcus, opening my eyes and turning my head to the side, keeping the group in my periphery vision. "After what I did to Tyler—"

"You think you can?" He was as quiet as me and didn't move his eyes, but the hint of hope I heard didn't have to be seen to be clear.

"I don't know until I try, but yeah. In theory, it's totally possible, right?" I nodded. "I'd like to at least try."

Marcus looked from his friend and back to me, watching, hoping, but still unsure.

Finally, Marcus nodded three times, each occurrence becoming more certain.

It was what Scottie—the Scottie unaffected by Darkness—would have wanted, and I felt no regret at the prospect of doing it. Unlike the hesitation I felt towards going around touching Dark Souls to save them, I thought he'd want it just as surely as someone like Suzie would.

So, that's what I would do.

Scottie grinned and nodded to the rest of the group.

They started to shuffle forward, venturing out of the shadows so that their faces were no longer obscured. Marcus gasped over and over, leaving no doubt in my mind that this group had been Dark Souls from Hell's Fire.

First, we would fight.

Then, after the crap-fest was over—if we survived it—we could figure out how that was possible.