Chapter 17 ACCEPTANCE
“Oh, look who’s back for more,” Butcher sneered at me, his mouth twisted with hate. "I am going to make you pay for what you did to me last time, you bitch."
I looked at him blankly. My mind was racing, trying to find anything in the sea of Sienna’s memories, but I found nothing. All I knew about him was that he had been there when I had been attacked, had probably even partaken in harming me. There was nothing that could point to the fact that I may have done something to him.
Oh, I couldn’t forget the most relevant part. That he may be part of the harbingers, my bastard ex-husband’s gang.
But as I looked at him now, I was really beginning to doubt that second part. Kanan’s MC gag was very exclusive and hard to get into. I really doubt that a crass, ape-like man like this was accepted into the gang.
Then, what did I know? I have been dead for months now. The demon had probably changed many things in his pursuit of more power.
"What are you talking about?" I asked him, my voice sounding small against the roar of the crowd.
Butcher’s face turned a deep, angry purple. He spat on the canvas, the glob of saliva landing just inches from my foot. "You’re pretending you don't remember? You humiliated me in front of the whole Pit. You broke my jaw and laughed while I was choking on my own teeth. You think a little hit and sleep makes us even?"
I swallowed hard, masking the internal panic with a cold stare, but inside, I was screaming. I didn't remember any jaw-breaking. I didn't need him to be any more determined to defeat me than he already was.
"The past is the past," I said, shrugging my shoulder nonchalantly, trying to sound like a woman who didn't care.
The bell rang. It was a sharp, piercing sound that felt like a needle in my ear.
Butcher didn't wait. He launched himself at me like a bull.
I moved, my legs acting before my brain could. I dodged to the left, feeling the wind from his massive fist as it whistled past my ear. I moved back, then right, then back again. I was fast, but I was entirely on the defensive.
After I spent the next couple of moments only dodging, the crowd, which had been screaming my name just seconds ago, started to go quiet. The cheering turned into confused murmurs.
"What is she doing?" someone yelled from the front row. "Fight back, Siren!"
I couldn't fight back. Every time I tried to throw a punch, my mind hesitated. My original Elena-instincts were screaming at me to run, to hide, to beg for mercy.
I just barely managed to evade his blows.
The few that touched me felt like bags of cement slamming into me. I found myself falling, twisting in pain, letting out grunts of pain, and rising.
I felt like a deer on an iced lake. At least Sienna’s natural, quick reflexes were saving my life right now.
The commentators' voices boomed over the speakers, their words dripping with disappointment.
"I don't believe it," the first caster said. "Siren is just dancing. Where is the aggression? Where is the Queen we remember?"
"Maybe the coma damaged more than just her timeline," the second one replied. "She looks lost out there. It looks like the Queen is officially gone. This is a slaughter, not a match."
I looked through the sweat dripping down my face toward the side of the ring to see Jax standing right against the cage, his knuckles white as he gripped the wire.
His face was a mask of pure agony and concern. He looked like he was barely holding himself back from jumping over the fence and pulling me out.
Jax caught my eye, then shook his head slowly. He mouthed two words at me: "Give up."
He wanted me to surrender. He wanted me to throw the match so I wouldn't get seriously hurt, but no matter how much I wanted to just throw in the towel and surrender, something in me kept stopping me.
That distraction was all Butcher needed, and he caught me with a massive, heavy hook to the side of my head.
The world exploded in a burst of white light and blinding pain.
I felt my feet leave the ground like I was flying before my head hit the canvas with a sickening thud, and for a second, the lights above the ring turned into a thousand spinning stars.
I tried to crawl away, but the butcher was on top of me in an instant. He was a dead weight, pinning me down.
He wrapped one hand around my throat, his thick fingers cutting off my air. With his other hand, he began to rain down punches on my face.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The copper taste of blood filled my mouth, and my vision started to blur.
I could feel my strength draining away, replaced by pain. If I didn’t do anything, I could end up in another coma.
"Look at you," Butcher hissed as he stopped punching for a second to look down at me. He noticed the hand band and smirked, a cruel and ugly look. "Is that a little pop of color I see, Siren?” he sneered, his spittle flying into my face. I could barely see him, my eyes already swelling from his blows. “Did the coma knock something loose in your hard head? Did it finally activate that part of you that makes you remember you’re nothing but a useless piece of pussy?"
Something in me snapped.
It wasn't a thought or a choice. It was like a roar of white-hot rage that started in the brand on my chest and flooded my entire body.
Elena is a princess. She is useless now,” a voice whispered in the back of my mind. “Give your new body the driver’s seat. Become Siren.”
I closed my eyes for a second, feeling something slide into place in my head.
I didn’t flinch when the butcher raised his fist for another blow. I reached up, my hand moving like a strike of lightning.
I moved my hand to the inside of his wrist, swerved the rushing fist away, then drove the side of my hand into the front part of his throat.
He choked, surprised at the sudden move, his grip on my throat loosening.
I didn't waste a second. I bucked my hips, throwing his massive weight off balance. I rolled, twisting his hand backwards in between my knees, then slamming it downward in a sharp, powerful motion.
The movement was so swift and smooth, like a springing snake.
I heard the snap of his elbow before I even realized I was twisting it.
I could hear the commentators yelling, but they sounded far away.
I stood up, and my body felt different. It felt heavy and light at the same time, but the confusion and fear were gone. There was only the target.
Butcher scrambled to his feet, clutching his broken arm, his eyes wide. "You bitch! I'll kill you!"
Without saying anything, I stepped into his space and spun with a brutal, efficient grace that felt entirely unfamiliar to Elena.
I delivered a roundhouse kick to his ribs that sounded like a tree branch snapping.
As he doubled over, gasping for air, I grabbed the back of his head and drove my knee into his face.
Sick joy coursed through me as I felt his nose shatter against my knee.
He hit the floor but immediately tried to push himself up.
I immediately stepped behind him and kicked his legs out from under him.
As he fell, I landed a series of sharp, tactical strikes to his kidneys and the base of his skull.
It wasn't a fight anymore. It was a dismantling. And at the back of my now mechanical, instinct-driven mind, I could see that I was moving at a speed that my regular mind couldn’t comprehend.
I stood over him, my chest heaving, my hand wrapped in a mixture of his blood and mine. I watched him twitch on the canvas, unable to even groan.
The silence in the Pit was absolute. Then, it broke.
"SIREN! SIREN! SIREN!"
The roar was so loud it felt like it would tear the roof off the factory. People were screaming. They were throwing money into the ring.
"THE QUEEN IS BACK!" the MC screamed into the microphone. "DEATH COULDN'T HOLD HER! Butcher IS DOWN!"
Jax was still in the cage. He wasn't cheering.
He was staring at me with uncertainty in his eyes, like he didn't understand who I was.
I didn't look at the crowd or at the cameras as the referee raised my hand and announced me the winner.
I felt…. full… like I had finally filled an emptiness in my soul. I wasn't just Elena Cruz anymore. I was this. I was a killer. I was a Siren.
And God, it felt better than anything I had ever known.
As I walked toward the tunnel, the crowd pressing in to touch my shoulders, I saw a woman standing near the exit. She was dressed in an expensive, dark coat that looked out of place in this filth. She was watching me with eyes that were as cold as a winter morning.
I skipped a step. I had seen her before.
She was one of the two female lieutenants in the harbingers.