Page 5 of A Touch of Gold and Madness (Celestials of Arcadia #1)

Chapter 4

Griffin

“ N ame?” The bearded human standing at three times my width glared at me. With bulging biceps and a lifelessness in his eyes, I gathered he’d rather be in the ring than out here in charge of tonight’s sign-up for the fights.

“Trevor. Former black ops,” I lied, meeting his empty gaze with one of my own, shoving down my rage and hunger for death so I’d appear less feral.

The beefy man roamed his eyes down my body, a smirk tinting his expression. My body type didn’t say “steroids,” so apparently, that meant I was a lost cause. Going incognito was thrilling. I loved it when people underestimated me.

“Preference?” he asked.

“Kinetic.”

“Alright, Trevor,” he said and jotted my fake name and preference down on the sign-up sheet. He slipped me a piece of paper with the number forty-two marked on it. “Head to the back and get ready. They’ll call your number when it’s time.”

Without a word, I took my leave and pushed past the man into the abandoned warehouse. The interior of the expansive space was dark, empty. Dust and trash cluttered the area, but that was to be expected. I walked to the back and opened the metal door that led to the stairwell, descending the steps to the basement. Several floors beneath the earth, I allowed the voice to continue his death mantra, hyping me up for the fight to come.

The only ones I permitted myself to kill were Kinetics. Not that I had a vendetta against all of them, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill humans. They’d suffered enough from the fallout of our war. And obviously, I couldn’t kill my people. So, Kinetics sated the uncontrollable drive and hunger for now.

Finally, I reached the bottom of the stairwell and took in the scent of blood and dust. The place was grimy, and mold began to infest the walls and ceiling of the underground establishment. Unlike the speakeasies that held a sense of camaraderie and hope, this place was dank with death, despair, and hatred.

I just managed to catch this scorse before it moved on. Thankfully, a human rebel with ties to Hogan informed me at the last minute. Scorses were known for hosting the underbelly of humanity while trading everyday items, but this event was one of the darkest parts of it. Sergeant Hogan was the owner of this one, but even he had no say when these particular trades came through. He had even less of a say in whether to host them.

I beat on the door with my fist five times to the specific rhythm required to gain entry. One, two-three, four, long pause, five.

Kill.

Kill.

Kill.

The metal bar on the other side of the door screeched in protest as the human guard slid it back. A red-headed man with a gun casually poised in his fist met me on the other side. With a sneer, he appraised me with amusement like the beefy man at the front.

Gracing him with a grin I was sure appeared manic, I headed into the crowd of criminals. There was a bar off to the right. The temptation to grab a glass of moonshine called to me, but I pushed it away, not wanting to silence the darkness tonight .

Scantily clad women leered at me as I passed through the crowd, and too often, one of them attempted to seduce me with a swipe at my arms or shoulders. Some nights, it’d work with the hopes to expel this unrelenting madness. This time, however, I didn’t need sex.

I caught a group of people snorting lines of white powder off of jagged mirrors. Another glimpse showed others nearby shoving needles in their arms and going slack in their seats. Their eyes rolled back into their heads from the euphoria. Women sat in men’s laps with tight postures and haunted eyes. Slaves.

Okay, there were some humans I wouldn’t mind killing. Slowly. Gruesomely. And in ways that made their torture tactics pale in comparison. The ones trading women and children in the sex trafficking circuits deserved me in my most depraved state.

Another surge of rage powered through me. Closing my hands into tight fists, I forced myself to walk past the degenerates, proceeding toward the back where the fight cages stood.

A deafening cheer went up in the crowd ahead. The prime-time cage sat in the center of the vast room, where the vilest of humanity watched with rapt attention, calling for blood—for death.

Silence quickly descended upon the crowd as bone crunched against bone. Nearing the cage, I caught a glimpse over the top of the crowd’s heads. One shirtless man beat another to disfiguration. Blood coated the cement floor they fought on. The one on the losing end of the fight lay unconscious, his face swollen and glistening in his ruby life force. The one on top kept swinging, not stopping as he pummeled in desperation to finish the job.

The human trafficking portion of this new world saw value in Kinetics and Elementals. They’d capture them and restrict their magic, selling their kind into the circuit as slaves to fight these underground death matches—usually against humans.

Judging by the crowds’ collective disgust, it appeared the Elemental won this fight .

I forced my way closer to the cage, hoping I’d recognize the Elemental slave. I didn’t, but it wouldn’t stop me from freeing him at the end of the night. Once the human was deemed dead, the Elemental dropped his head to his bare chest, bruises already forming on his skin. Remorse coated his expression as he despondently stared at his work.

The crowd came back to life, shouting jeers of hatred at the Elemental that claimed one of their own. They hadn’t come to watch their fellow man die—they wanted to see Elemental or Kinetic blood.

A burly man made his way into the cage, snatching the Elemental to his feet. Drained, he swayed, unable to heal his wounds. Who knew how long he’d had his magic suppressed by the black bracelet on his wrist, weakening him further?

Another man, clad in black—gloves included—entered the cage and dragged the dead human out by his ankle, leaving a nasty blood trail in his wake. A voice came over the underground scorse, echoing off the cement walls. “Number forty-two. Take your place in the main cage.”

Everywhere else in the world, with the exception of Kinetic Domains and Elemental Hollows who ran on magic, was void of electricity. These specific human activities functioned on rare solar-powered generators. It’s bullshit how the innocent suffered the most.

Posing as a human, I walked toward the main cage. People studied me as I passed, gauging whether I stood a chance in the fight. It didn’t matter what they thought—I wasn’t here for their approval. I needed something. And the only way to get it was to win. I’d kill a Kinetic as a bonus while feeding this unhinged affliction within me.

I was a fucking time bomb. And all it really took at this point was for someone to touch or look at me in the wrong way, and I’d go off. This fight was a necessity in more ways than one.

With each step I took, the darkness hyped me with promises of violence, retribution, and death. Promises to take, take, take. Kill, kill, kill.

Humans parted for me, shifting out of my path as I neared the cage, like they sensed something wasn’t quite right with me. If only they knew the truth about who they allowed to walk amongst them .

Climbing the cinder block steps, I ascended into the prime-time cage. Someone finished cleaning the pool of blood from the previous fight, leaving the ring as I entered. Like the last two men, I would be shirtless. It was a requirement in these venues to ensure there was no cheating or disguised Elementals or Kinetics amongst the humans—like me.

Before I’d entered the abandoned warehouse, I’d had to get creative with my magic-suppressing bracelet. Contact with skin was required to hide the physical traits and shut down our magic. My gilded skin and swirling silver irises would be a dead giveaway. I simply strapped it to my thigh beneath my pants with a scrap from a discarded weapons belt. Easy.

The cage was empty, so I picked a corner with a chair, stripped until my torso was bare, and began stretching. The tattoos marking my neck, arms, and chest were a mixture of Elemental sigils and normal human tattoos I had gotten a few years back. Thankfully, the bracelet hid the sigils and left the ink tattoos visible.

I wasn’t nervous—not even a little. Bending to one side, my hamstrings strained before I stood up and pulled my arm across my chest, feeling my back and shoulder muscles loosen. Curious chatter of “the new guy in the cage” echoed throughout the crowd. If only they knew.

The darkness ratcheted up tenfold the longer I waited, crying out for blood and death. The affliction’s bloodlust needed the tension. I needed the release. The anxious energy had me bouncing on my feet impatiently.

Too lost in my headspace, I didn’t notice the huge Kinetic slave brought into the cage. Must’ve been a captured warrior. Good. More of a challenge.

“Ladies and gents!” the male voice speaking over the loudspeaker announced theatrically. “Prepare yourselves for a match between disgraced Kinetic Warrior, Matte, and ex-black ops, Trevor!”

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold off the intensity buzzing through me.

Kill.

Kill.

Kill .

Finally, a whistle screeched, signaling the start. We squared up our bare chests and fists. This Kinetic appeared familiar, but I didn’t recognize him. He, however, looked horrified, judging by the paleness of his skin and widened eyes. He knew exactly who I was.

With his fists blocking his face in its defensive stance, he asked, “How?”

I shrugged. “I have my ways.” Then I jabbed him four quick times in his ribs, making him back up before I threw a kick to his thigh.

Matte grunted but soon recovered. He went on the offensive, striking for my jaw as a misdirection to land a blow in my gut, which he did. The air knocked from my lungs, but I smiled anyway.

Lunging at Matte, I jumped at an angle, dropping my shoulders to where my body inverted. Locking my ankles around his neck, I twisted, snatching him to the ground as I rotated and caught myself on my hands.

I quickly scrambled to pull him in an ironclad chokehold. He was pinned, almost to the point of passing out. But while I held him down and blocked his airflow from the side, I jammed my knee wherever it would strike. Just before he lost consciousness, I let him go and shot to my feet. Lightning-quick, I straddled his chest and began punching his face, feeling the darkness take the first real drop of blood to feed its frenzy.

I didn’t stop. Matte tried to fight back, but it was no use. I had him, and I was rabid. Each drop of blood made me want more, more, more.

Take. Take. Take. Fucking take it all!

I tried. I wanted to paint a beautiful scarlet picture of Kinetic death on this floor. I wanted him suffering. Whimpering. Screaming. It was music to my fucking ears. I needed…I needed…

I didn’t know how much time had passed as I wailed on the face of Matte’s corpse. I only came back to myself when I was hauled off his body. He was no longer recognizable. Mutilated.

And I smiled at the sight, feeling like a possessed madman. I could imagine how garish I appeared. My black hair clashed with the bright blood smearing my face and upper body. I absorbed the fervor, the rage, not one shred of guilt for the Kinetic death at my feet.

Contentment.

The darkness lifted enough to offer a slight reprieve. Although the hunger and rage still hung heavy over my soul, I could form deeper thoughts aside from the “Take. Take. Take” mantra. It’d never be fully satisfied, but at least it wasn’t suffocating me at this point.

Standing in the trading booths deeper within the compound, a woman with skin as pale as snow gazed up at me from the table she manned. Sensual hunger gleamed in her eyes as she roamed over my savage appearance. Sex was another form of currency in these parts. “Congrats. Wanna celebrate in a bit?” she asked before flashing a knowing smile.

I licked my lips and cocked my head to the side. “As tempting as the offer is, I need to be on my way.”

She visibly pouted and slumped in her seat. “Are you sure? We can make it quick…”

I leaned over and stroked the backs of my knuckles down the creamy skin of her cheek, “I can promise you, I wouldn’t be quick,” I whispered.

Her breath caught and her eyes glazed with desire, but I only offered her a small smile before pulling away. “I’m here to collect my reward for the win. And then I gotta go.” But not before I freed the Elemental that’d won earlier.

The woman seemed to shake herself from her lustful state and cleared her throat. “Right. What is it you want?”

“Cocaine and chloroform,” I said, thinking of the princess that would surely give me hell when I moved to take her.