They sprinted for her and Valkyrie pushed at the air, sending Caelan tumbling backwards. Victor dodged around, came at her, and she whipped the shadows at him, taking him off his feet. He hit the arena wall, landed in a crouch, shaking his head to clear it. His snarls were drowned out by the roar of the crowd.

Caelan burst at her. She went down, rolled, staying away from his claws and fangs. She tried to kick him off her, but it was like kicking a wall. Sharp nails dug into her leg, drawing blood, and he dragged her close. She turned over, clicking her fingers and shoving a fistful of fire into his face. Caelan lurched away, yelping like a wounded dog. Valkyrie scrambled up.

Victor thudded into her from behind. His claws raked her shoulder blade. She cried out, twisted, stumbled and fell, Victor getting tangled in her legs. He fell on top, snapping at her. She held him back. Barely. He pushed her head to one side, exposing her throat, but as his head darted in she filled his mouth with shadows. He recoiled, gagging, and she sat up, but in his blind panic he kicked out and found her jaw and the world sparked and tilted and Valkyrie was lying on her back, blinking slowly in sudden silence.

Gradually, the sounds from the arena soaked back into her hearing.

Without moving, she looked over at Caelan and Victor as they thrashed around in the dirt, snarling and biting and punching. Groaning, she rolled over, looked up.

The Promoter was leaning forward in his throne, watching the contest with an eager, greedy delight on his face. The wall of the arena was lower where he was, allowing him a better view. It wasn’t low enough for a vampire to jump, but maybe if there was a sorcerer nearby willing to give a little boost…

Valkyrie got up, clutching her left arm. Blood ran freely down her back, and her leg was pretty bad. She ignored the pain, ignored the snarling, snapping vampires beside her, and limped towards the throne. When she was close enough, she turned back to the vampires, put two fingers in her mouth, and blew a short, shrill whistle.

The vampires stopped fighting and looked over. The audience stopped roaring and peered closer.

The vampires bolted for her. Valkyrie waited until they were close enough and then swept her arms in and up, lifting them off their feet so that they hurtled over her head. All she heard was the Promoter’s panicked cry before all hell broke loose.

The audience stampeded. People screamed and shouted and scrambled over each other. Extra lights snapped on over the stands. Doors that should have been closed were opened, and doors that should have been opened were closed. Behind the screams of panic were screams of pain, of people getting torn apart. Valkyrie wasn’t the least bit sorry.