Lusse stood six feet away, her face dark with rage, her cape and dust swirling around her. “It’s my power. You pathetic upstarts.” She formed an O with her hand, another short stick of power appearing in the opening. With a quick overhead motion, she pelted the new bolt toward them.
“What the hell are those?” Kelly muttered, rolling again, this time into Kara. Not waiting for an answer, she pushed to her feet and sprinted to the other side of the ring, putting distance between her and Kara.
“Over here, Cruella,” Kelly screamed.
A sly smile curved Lusse’s lips. “Simpletons,” she said, and pulled both hands to her chest. Her eyes gleaming, she flung both arms out into a V shape, power bolts flying from each hand — one directed at each sister.
“Crap.” Still on the ground, Kara scrambled to escape. The bolt brushed against her, burning through the jumpsuit and sending an icy pain shooting through her side.
Kara lay in the dirt gasping for a breath, frozen with the shock of being hit. She pressed a hand to her side; it came back red with blood.
She stared at it stupidly. Funny, she didn’t feel as if she was bleeding.
“Kara,” Kelly screamed.
Kara looked, her hand still palm up in front of herself.
Lusse had taken a step forward; her eyes focused on Kara, she lifted both hands and prepared to throw two more bolts — both directed at Kara.
All Kara could do was stare at her, unable to believe any of this was really happening.
A scream rent the air. Suddenly, bolt after bolt of energy dug into the earth around Lusse. Kelly, a crazed look in her eyes, lunged forward, her hands a flash of movement around her head, pulling bolts from nowhere and tossing them as quickly as her arms could move.
“Leave my sister alone,” she shrieked.
Lusse turned, two huge bolts gripped in her hands. Eyes narrowed, she pulled her arms back over her head and prepared to toss them, but at Kelly, not Kara.
Something inside Kara snapped. She glanced up at the dais. Risk still stood there rigid, his face grim. “Help me,” she willed, her desperation pouring through her eyes.
His jaw tightening, he turned his face away.
Kara wanted to curl up in a ball, lie sobbing in the dirt until all this passed. But it wasn’t going to pass, not until either Lusse or she and Kelly were declared the victor.
A whistle pierced the air, Lusse’s energy bolts catapulting toward Kelly.
Inhaling, Kara pulled in more energy and concentrated on what she wanted — to save Kelly, to save herself.
Every muscle in his body clenched tight, Risk stared down into the ring. Kara was bleeding. His nostrils flared.
Her eyes huge with an unspoken appeal, Kara looked at him. Knowing he couldn’t interfere, if he did it would only jeopardize their escape, he turned his face away. He felt Kara’s despair, like a leaden sigh settling over him.
He couldn’t help her. He had to let Lusse defeat her and her sister. It was the only way, he reminded himself over and over. The words becoming almost a mantra in his mind.
Feeling stronger, he looked back at the ring. Kara spun away, her hands upraised, her face tilted upward, exposing her delicate neck. She inhaled deeply, her hands shaking slightly as if she were holding weights that were almost too much for her to bear.
Risk tightened his jaw. She had to fight this alone — she had to lose.
A slight breeze stirred Risk’s hair.
Jormun straightened on his bed of pillows. “Do you feel that? The twin. She’s doing that.” His eyes flashed with pride.
Risk leaned over the dais. The breeze grew stronger, began to move the dirt on the ring’s floor, too.
Lusse blinked, then lowered her brows. With a muttered curse she heaved two energy bolts toward Kara’s sister.
The wind picked up to a howl. A huge disk of power, air and dirt swirled together, forming a wall between Lusse and Kelly, and beside it stood Kara, her hands still outstretched, her body swaying with the wind.
“She is doing it,” gloated Jormun, his massive hands clapping together.
Lusse’s bolts slammed into the disk. Sparks sprayed as the bolts vibrated against Kara’s shield. A gut- wrenching grinding sound forced the skapt backward, their tongues darting from their mouths in alarm.
“Fabulous.” Jormun grinned. “Now what will your witch do?” he asked Risk.
Her face twisted with rage, Lusse began to twirl, creating her own tempest of power, but behind the shield, Kelly seemed to have tapped into what Kara was doing. She held her arms out to her sister, adding to Kara’s creation.
Their disk grew bigger and bigger, forcing Lusse backward, trapping her against the boundary of the ring.
They were winning. They were beating Lusse.
Risk paced the length of the dais, watching for some sign that Lusse could still win, but the witch was fading. Her shoulder bowing as Kara and Kelly forced her into a smaller and smaller space.
Jormun clapped his hands again and shot Risk a beaming grin. “Looks like they are winning, forandre.”
Not yet. The battle wasn’t won or lost or…Risk shook his head. He hadn’t lost his chance to save Kara yet. Fair or foul, Lusse had to win this fight.
But how? He couldn’t help Lusse, even if Jormun wouldn’t object, he couldn’t go that far; he had to get Kara to do it herself. He had to convince her — talk to her.
The solution rocked into him; he shook his head at the simplicity. Change — he had to change, in front of Kara. She’d asked him to do it before and he’d refused, convinced it would seal her horror of what he was. But now he had no choice. It was the only way to speak with her.
Closing his eyes, he let the magic engulf him. His feet widened, his hips curved — throwing him to all fours. Sounds and scents multiplied. He could hear Kara’s breathing, smell her resolve. With a shake, he settled into his hound form and opened his eyes.
Jormun stared at him, a slight curve to his lips. “You can’t help her, forandre. It’s her battle to win.”
Or lose. The serpent shape-shifter still had no idea of Risk’s true goal. His head lowered with determination, Risk padded to the edge of the dais, and opened his mind to Kara.
They were winning. And without hurting Lusse. Kara couldn’t believe it was actually happening. She stepped forward, concentrating on holding the disk of power she and Kelly balanced between them. Lusse edged farther backward, her own cyclone of energy slowing, losing force with each inch of ground she lost.
“Kara.” Risk’s voice startled her, almost making her lose focus.
“Kara,” Kelly yelled, apparently sensing Kara’s drift in attention.
Kara snapped herself back, refusing to look at the dais.
“Kara, look at me,” Risk called inside her head.
Kara licked her lips. They almost had Lusse. Just a few more minutes and she and Kelly would win.
“Kara, please.” Sadness, desperation — emotions Kara had never heard in Risk’s voice before, not even when he’d described being sold by his parents. “Kara,” he pleaded again.
Unable to resist, she turned her head. The silver dog from the bar parking lot stood on the dais. A sliver of fear shot through her; her muscles clenched; her power wavered causing the disk to stutter, the edges waving, disappearing for a second.
“Kara, concentrate! What are you doing?” Kelly dug her heels into the dirt, increasing her effort to hold the disk. Sweat broke out on her forehead, lines forming on her face. Muttering, she glanced toward her sister.
