Chapter Twenty-Six: The swingers in this world are freaky.

It was now official. I liked skirts on dudes. And Leoleth was technically wrong. I only went down on somebody. Titus wasn’t expecting this. Hells, neither was I.

“You have a party to get to,” I whispered after standing up. I coughed a bit and my face was flushed with an all new kind of excitement.

It was just a little embarrassing because it was within five minutes of arriving and was not my best work, but Titus seemed happy with the results. I had no complaints to file with management. I didn’t grab the ‘O’ for myself, but the message was delivered. If he wanted me, it was by my rules.

But… it was also as thrilling as leaping off a rooftop at night. A room full of strangers was just a few steps away from us, and here I was, fooling around with the host in his office. I had never actually finished a man off like that before, and I could feel the power it gave me. It seemed foolish, I don’t know, performing an act that appeared so submissive while trying to assert dominance.

I realized I was being careless. I didn’t know him, and what little I managed to learn from our interactions indicated that he was a dangerous man. I suppose I wanted to be dangerous too—just a little.

Overall murder world score, I’d say it was a solid nine out of ten on the stupid scale, but I did manage to keep my hair from getting trashed.

We walked arm in arm into the Sybo Arena Lounge, his grip steady, his presence commanding. Earlier, as he straightened his skirt and I wiped away the mess on my face, his advice was simple: speak to no one.

This was not exactly a criminal crowd, but the room hummed with danger. Every glance felt like a silent warning. We were just a few minutes away from the first fight of the night, which was the beginning of the elimination bracket.

Titus worked the room like a master. The man radiated with Charisma, and I could feel him as he pressed it on anyone who made eye contact with him. It was odd, seeing how the raw attribute worked. It was like he forced smiles out of people. Even with the boost from the Chain of Passion around my waist, I wasn’t even close to hitting his numbers. Aymon probably wasn’t either.

I was with him, like a piece of jewelry for his guests to admire. I had to admit, I liked it. I was never used to being pretty. That wasn’t exactly it. I wasn’t used to being the pretty one. I hang out with chicks like Leoleth and Heather, so come on. I stroked his bare arm as he led me around and smiled at his guests. I loved being paraded and shown off.

The fairy girl came over on the arm of the human she’d arrived with. He greeted Titus, leaning in to exchange a hushed conversation. Meanwhile, she turned her attention to me, giving me a sultry look before slipping out of her escort’s arm. Her face was still adorned with those glowing freckles.

“I’m Shael.” She spoke in a dreamy, melodic voice.

“Uh…Hi,” I said. “Regan.”

“We think you are so beautiful.” She casually brushed my shoulder with her slender hand. “I think you’re beautiful.”

“Welcome to Nya,” she whispered to me.

She pulled back, and her golden hair shifted into bright pink curls—an exact match to my own. My stomach dropped. How could my otherworldly origin be so apparent to someone who hadn’t done an assessment? It was unsettling, to say the least.

“We’d love to share my beauty with you.”

“… just a friend,” Titus said to the human, wrapping up their conversation. The man was middle-aged, handsome, and looked like he had too much money for his own good. Meanwhile, the fairy beside him morphed rapidly, shrinking to my height and losing her wings. She was now my mirror image—a near-perfect fake, still clad in the same scandalously sheer robes.

“Sorry,” the man said to the fake me. She turned to him with a pout, and I froze. Is that what my pouty face looks like?

“Maybe,” she replied, her voice dripping with faux innocence, “you could ask her to join us later?”

I was about to say something when she shifted again—this time taking on the face of Heather, still with my hair and body.

He shot me an expectant look. I looked at the handsome human. He had a square jaw, a solid build, and a shaved head with a beard that said he liked camping, but only for the fashion. I could hit that. The girl rapidly turned into an exact copy of my favorite Purity Cleric…

“Uh…” I stammered, tightening my grip on my drink—or maybe my sanity. “Kind of got something going on tonight.”

She continued her transformation, and I was soon looking at a sluttier version of my friend as she shifted from pose to pose in front of me.

“I’m sure we’ll see you around,” the fake Heather said, fluttering her eyelashes. Her voice even matched Heather’s, with a sexiness that I had never heard my friend even try.

Regan Summer One, Weird fantasy world swinger hookup couple: Zero. I somehow felt I avoided the damnation of my soul.

I watched them stroll off and into the crowd, the fake Heather clinging to his arm. As they passed other couples, her appearance shifted again, blending seamlessly into someone new.

“Man,” I said to Titus. “The swingers in this world are freaky.”

She wasn’t the only one at the party that seemed to notice me. I got looks. Lots of looks. There were about a hundred to a hundred and fifty people in the lounge. I was also the new kid, and more than a few women in men’s arms looked at me suspiciously. Understanding the prejudices leveled on half-elves made peoples’ attitudes toward me seem more obvious like I just hadn’t seen it before when I walked into a room.

We made our way to the small stage. Titus hopped up, getting into character.

“Welcome, friends!” He bellowed, “To our last round of fights for the year!” There was a round of cheers and huzzahs from the crowd. I stood off to the side of the stage and watched him.

“Eight of our city’s top melee combatants will fight for tonight’s purse of five thousand gold!” The crowd cheered. “Plus! Magic matchups! Unarmed, unarmored contests. And…” he paused with a coy smile on his face. “Let’s just see what we can come up with!”

“What do you mean by that last bit?” I asked. He came back down, shaking hands and kissing cheeks like a politician.

“This is not the kind of crowd that is happy just watching.” He said, his plastered smile on his face as he steered me towards the booth that he had reserved. “They like to get down in it. I usually have a couple of matches from the spectators up here.”

“Oh,” I said. “Sounds fun.” The looks of the women around the room made me a little worried. “How does that usually work?”

“There are a few that just enjoy beating the crap out of each other. Some use the arena to settle disputes, that kind of thing.”

We settled into the booth, which offered an excellent view of the lounge, not just the arena. An attendant came by with a note and a drink for Titus.

“I’m giving the Church of Purity a three hundred GP credit line?”

“My friend Heather.”

“I have a Priestess from the Church of Purity in here placing bets?”

“She’s a Cleric, actually,” I pointed at Heather, who was talking animatedly to the board attendant as she placed bets on the tournament fights.

“This used to be a respectable establishment.” He smiled, sipping his drink.

A bell rang in the arena a couple of minutes later, and a hush rolled over the lounge patrons and the crowd below. I exited the booth and pushed through the mass until I found Heather. She was leaning over the rail with a betting slip in her hand.

“You sure you betting is a good idea?” I asked her.

“Shh.”

“Sports Enthusiasts!” The Dwarven MC bellowed; he spoke into a control rod. It pulsed with every syllable he uttered. “Welcome to Sybo Arena and the final fight night of the year!”

The crowd cheered until he raised his hand. “Eight melee fighters! One Winner! Single elimination, first to yield or incapacitated!” He raised his hand in the air. “Are you ready for the first match of the night!” The crowd roared their approval. “Number one, with eight wins but still chasing a tournament victory, The Scourge from the capital comes to Ironstone to claim the title! Herius The Hammer!”

A human ran in from a curved doorway on the side, a war hammer held over his head to a mix of cheers and jeers. His face was hidden behind a heavy cassis; a breastplate and armored arms and legs were his only protection. He had a beautiful, muscled body with scars that showed he was no stranger to combat.

“Returning to the Sybo Arena for his third try at the title. Coming in with four wins! Ironstone’s own dwarven warrior! Grozeck The Great!”

Grozeck walked in slowly, holding a two-handed battle axe high. He was a local, and the crowd gave him a riotous greeting. He wore a simple helmet on his head and pitted scaled armor. His massive, muscular arms held his axe high over his head, pumping it up and down, egging the crowd to chant.

GRO-ZECK! GRO-ZECK! GRO-ZECK! GRO-ZECK!

The MC held his hands to the crowd, and they calmed down. He kept them up until the arena was silent.

“Protectors.” He said solemnly. Three robed and hooded men around the arena raised their right hands, and three sigils formed, one around the fighting pit and one around each combatant. The circles glowed brightly and then faded. The MC had backed out of the pit as the sigils came up and was no longer in the fighting area.

“Protection sigils,” Heather whispered to me. “They’ll freeze combat if the fighters’ VP gets too low.”

“You know way too much about this,” I said. “I thought you have never been to one of these.”

“I hear stuff. Now shut up.”

“Rude.”

“COMBATANTS!” the MC’s Voice bellowed louder than ever. “FIGHT!”

Herius opened up aggressively from the start, charging forward. His hammer was held to his right, ready to swing. While dwarves were pretty predictable regarding abilities, humans were a bit of a mixed bag. Herius was strong but also quick. He brought his hammer around in a tight arc as he circled Grozeck.

But the dwarf had a few tricks. Rather than tucking or rolling, he dipped backward limbo style, using his axe to balance and hold his weight as the hammer swung over him. He bounced back to his feet and leaped at Herius, who was over-extended and vulnerable. Grozeck managed to land a glancing blow on the human’s right shoulder with a clang loud enough to be heard over the cheering crowd. He tucked and rolled, coming up behind Herius.

Herius pivoted, his hammer fully extended, flying at the dwarf like a meteor. Grozeck dove, but not before taking a hit to his right arm and almost losing his axe. He tumbled; the movement of the hit added to his leap and somersaulted him across the sandy floor before recovering.

The human pressed the attack, bringing the hammer down as he charged the dwarf. Grozeck moved to the right, easily dodging the heavy-handed assault. Herius slammed the hammer down and used its weight and momentum to spring forward like a pole vaulter, planting a solid kick in the dwarf’s chest.

Grozeck crumpled to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. The crowd lost it at this point. Herius had seemingly abandoned his signature weapon, and the dwarf was now rolling on the ground, trying to keep out of range of the human’s kicks.

Grozeck had gotten out from under the stomps and was able to get up to a semi-standing position with enough balance to make a good, solid swing at Herius. The axe clipped the human’s left knee with a painful-sounding crack as the armor deflected most of the damage, but I could feel it from up here.

Herius was the one to dive and roll this time, avoiding Grozeck’s follow-up attack as he retrieved his weapon. The dwarf was now the one charging, swinging his axe to the left with enough force to end the match. The human planted his heavy hammer onto the ground and ducked, blocking the incoming attack. The axe hit the hammer with enough force to rattle all the seats in the auditorium. Herius used the force of the blow to swing his hammer over his head, nailing the dwarf squarely on the back of the helmet.

Grozeck stumbled, his bell clearly rung. Herius was not exactly moving to pursue. In fact, he wasn’t getting up at all. The hit to his knee killed whatever agility he had in the match.

The dwarf made a little circle, shaking off the stars in his vision, and turned to face the human, who crouched on one knee, his hammer planted on the ground. He was hanging on to it, holding himself up. Words were exchanged, but we couldn’t hear what was being said.

Herius surged, using his good leg and the hammer as a launcher. Grozeck was genuinely surprised but was well out of range of the attack. The human spun in the air and launched his hammer squarely at the dwarf’s head before crashing to the ground. The steel and wood hammer slammed the dwarf in the forehead, knocking him off his feet. His dented helmet flew off his head.

Grozeck landed on his back, his axe held across his chest. The hammer landed somewhere off to the side. Herius struggled to get to his feet. The dwarf just lay there.

A hush fell over the crowd as they watched Grozeck rise. He got to his feet slowly but managed to stand, swaying slightly from the hit to the head. He pointed his axe down at the human and ambled toward him on unsteady feet. Herius only managed to get back onto one knee.

The human undid the chinstrap on his helmet and pulled it off. He had a big smile as he held his hands rising in surrender.

The crowd lost their collective shit.

Grozeck planted his axe in the sand and came over to Herius, helping him to his feet, and the two did a half handshake, half embrace.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“WINNER: GROZECK THE GREAT!” The MC bellowed.

GRO-ZECK! GRO-ZECK! GRO-ZECK! GRO-ZECK!

The audience chanted. Two healers ran into the pit as the sigils of protection flashed and vanished.

“Fuck yeah!” Heather screamed, her arms over her head in triumph.

The crowd kept their chanting up as the two combatants left the pit. Both were smiling and waving at the audience, their arms over each other’s shoulders. Once they vacated the space. Arena attendants rushed on, clearing the area and raking the surface.

The lounge had settled down as the attendees headed back to the bar to get more drinks or grab a plate of food from the buffet table that mysteriously appeared during the first match. I slid into the booth next to Titus.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Exciting stuff,” I said. “I can’t believe that’s just the first fight.”

“We have about a dozen or so to go tonight. I’ve learned to pace myself. The one-off fights aren’t as interesting, but they allow the crowd to buy drinks and place bets.”

“I think the Church of Purity made money on that first fight.”

“Why did you bring her here?”

“She’s my friend.”

“You’re an assassin, and you are friends with a follower of Amania?”

“Yeah,” I said. “And before you ask, she knows more about me than you do.”

“It just seems weird to me.”

“This is a weird world,” I kissed him on the cheek. “You’re so innocent. It’s adorable.”

He laughed, and we kissed again. It was for real this time.

“BITCH!”

A woman over by the buffet table was yelling. It was a high-pitched squeal. I pulled my lips away from Titus to see a colossal orc woman standing over Leoleth.

“Oh shit.” I moaned.

“One of yours?” he asked. He looked serious. “You don’t want to get involved in that.”

“Kinda have to,” I said, climbing out of the booth.

A circle had formed around them. Leoleth was standing at full height, facing off against an orc woman, who was almost as tall as the minotaur outside and wearing a shockingly bright yellow silk dress. Words flew back and forth, but I couldn’t hear the conversation until I shoved past the onlookers.

“I wasn’t going to touch him,” Leoleth said mischievously. “He’s not even my type.”

“You had your hands on him!” the orc woman bellowed.

“I like his robe. It’s soft and shiny.”

“I am going to break you in two, you elven piece of-”

“Hey there,” I interjected, standing in front of Leoleth. “Let’s not be using that kind of talk.”

“Move to the side, you little freak.” The orc lady said.

“Yeah, No,” I said. “My friend says she had no bad intentions and will stay away from you and your man for the rest of her life.”

“Your friend here is going to be wearing your asshole as a hat.”

“Vivid,” I said, smiling. But then I dropped the smile. “But that’s not gonna happen.”

She was the same kind of orc as Kev. Tall, muscular, and had the same apelike face and dreadlocks. Her sleeveless yellow dress clung to her body and had a black pattern that nicely accentuated her curves while allowing her impressive muscles to be fully displayed. I was just about to compliment her when she started up again.

“You and me half-pint.” She growled. “The pit.”

“Fuck yeah,” Leoleth said with a grin. She was walking around behind me, pumping her fists in the air. She was completely caught up in the energy of the room.

“Either that,” the Orc lady continued. “Or we take this out on the street.”

“Oh,” I shook my head slowly. “You don’t want to do that.”

“The hells I don’t!” The woman bellowed down at me.

The circle of spectators started to press in. I mean, I get it. It’s a rough crowd, and I’m the new girl at this particular version of Jefferson Middle School. De-escalation was not an option at this point. So, I just doubled down. I was small, cute, and dressed way better than this chick. There was no way I was going to get out of this. I eased my posture, let my shoulders droop, and crossed my arms. The cherry on top was the slight head tilt that made my bangs bounce a little.

YEAH! I heard someone yell. TEAR HER UP, DAISY!

Okay, I didn’t laugh, but it all made sense. Her name was Daisy, and she was wearing a bright yellow dress. Again, I like me a tough female. But gods help me; I couldn’t help but smile after hearing her name.

“You think this is some fucking joke, you little prawn?”

The crowd hushed. A fight was going on down in the pit, and I could hear magical spells slinging back and forth. But this is what these people were here for—private duals. And what we were saying was way more interesting than what was happening down there. I also figured this was part of the ritual, like slinging double dog dares and whatnot.

There would be a face-down, and some threats would be thrown around. I was either supposed to beat my chest or act like a scared little girl who didn’t belong here.

“No.” I held it back as best I could. I kept my demeanor stupidly casual.

“So how do you want it?”

“I don’t fight for sport.” I cleared all the goofy out of my face and stared up at her. As steely-eyed as I could. “You want to throw it down? We do it in the pit. I don’t feel like killing anyone tonight.”

“Fine then,” Daisy said, her bile-green eyes laser-focused on me. “We face off in the pit. No magic, melee weapons only. There will be full protections, so you won’t have to kill me.” She sneered at me when she said that last part. “One thousand XP fight.”

The crowd started murmuring. I guess throwing up XP on a fight was a thing. I was just feeding off the energy and didn’t want this massive orc bitch to be the one controlling the terms.

“Two K.” I countered.

Daisy looked uneasy. I wasn’t keen on losing two thousand XP, but then again, I got a massive boost that only enhanced some of my attributes. I was still low on skills, so if I slid a level or two, it wouldn’t be the end of me.

“I’m sure you can spare it,” I said. “And look at me,” I spread my arms out and put on my best mean girl face. “I’m just a little half-pint prawn. A larger girl like yourself can wipe the floor with me.”

“Agreed.” She said, and she thrust her hand at me. It’s like we just closed the deal on a 2018 Honda Civic. She also didn’t seem angry anymore.

“Alrighty then.” I took her hand and shook it. She had a crushing handshake. I might have lost a point or two of VP.

DUEL DECLARED:

DAISY OROK

You have been challenged to a duel and agreed to the terms.

TERMS:

Following arena rules, the duel will be fought in the Sybo Arena pit.

Melee weapons only.

The duel will end when one or both combatants are incapacitated or one combatant yields.

COST: 2000 XP

REWARD: 4000 XP

The lounge patrons all cheered. Forget ladders or exhibition fights. This is what these people were into.

And just like that, they dispersed like teenagers from a kegger when the sheriff showed up. Daisy strutted to the bar, greeting and shaking hands with almost everybody. And getting a line of drinks stacked up for her, purchased by eager admirers.

“This is fun,” Leoleth said with a smile. “I’m glad we came.”

I glared at her. “And were you molesting her man?”

“The freak was all over me.” She arched her back. “I told him I wasn’t an easy girl.”

“It’s a loud room. I’m sure he misunderstood.” I gave her a little hug.

“These people are crazy. Don’t get dead.”

“I won’t,” I grumbled.

I trudged back over to the booth and a very anxious-looking Titus Sybo. He covered it with his signature grin and took tiny sips of his drink. But I could see it in his eyes. Someone had dropped off two plates of food for us to enjoy.

“Wow.” He said.

“That’s all ya got?” I slid into the booth and up against him. He was warm and smelled really, really good. He put his arm around me. There were looks from the patrons. They weren’t staring exactly, but they were stealing glimpses.

“When was the last time you had a date here?” I asked. I picked at the plate in front of me, wondering what I would enjoy vomiting up later when my nerves finally caught up with me.

“I usually have someone with me every night.”

I pulled back from him a little. “I’m the girl DuJour?”

“No,” He pulled me back and kissed me gently on the temple. “You’re the most interesting person I’ve met in a long time.”

“Um, sure,” I said. I looked up at him, unable to hide my skepticism. “How many of those girls ended up fighting in the pit?”

“Not a one.” He scrunched his face, searching for words. “I brought you here because it’s an easy invite. You would have rejected a dinner invitation or an afternoon in the park. And I wanted to see you. I didn’t think you would have brought one friend that could bring the wrath of her Goddess down on me and another that would piss off Daisy the Pit Queen.”

“Sorry.” I put a small piece of cheesy potato in my mouth. “Is she really called the Pit Queen?”

“Yeah. She’s pretty good.”

“What does she do when she’s not here picking fights?”

“She’s a bookkeeper for a shipping company in Commerce City.”

I laughed. Luckily, I swallowed my bite, or I would have choked.

The fights continued, and our round wouldn’t be until close to the apex battle. I knew people in the lounge were looking forward to the two TBDs. Daisy and I took the top slot, probably because we were the first. About an hour later, another argument, and the second slot was filled with two guys’ names.

The odds didn’t look favorable for me. Daisy was undefeated thus far. And fought at least once a week during the season. I was a quarter of her size and a complete unknown. And I couldn’t use magic. And I only was good with a dagger. And I suck at fighting.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Heather said, coming to the booth.

“Titus, this is Heather, My cleric friend.”

“I’m honored.” He said, standing, offering his hand to her. She took it and shook. “I hope you’re enjoying the experience. Please have a seat.”

“No thank-you.” She looked longingly at the window, and the fight about to start. “I just wanted to have a quick word with Regan.”

“Sure,” I slipped out of the booth. She took me by the arm and led me away.

“He’s…” she said with a smile.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “He is very sexy.”

“Anyway.” She shook her head. “You sure you want to do this?”

“No,” I chuckled. “But I kind of feel I would have ended up down there at some point.”

“Really?” she furrowed her brow at me.

“The moment Leoleth walked in, my fate was sealed.” I shrugged, trying to act confident about it. “There was no way she wasn’t going to piss someone off. And she’s a magic user and no good in a melee fight.”

“None of us are suited to it.”

“One thing I can do,” I said, looking around the room in case anyone was listening. It seemed clear. I lowered my voice almost to a whisper. “I can take a beating. It’s a non-lethal contest. Everyone comes out okay after going down there. I’ve taken some real hits and pulled through, and this time, I’m not gonna die if I lose.”

“You have XP on this.”

“Yeah, well, I picked up a whole bunch of extra. Never bet more than you can afford to lose.”

“They will let you use your own healer.” Heather smiled at me. “I’ll be down there to help you when it’s over.”

“You’re not gonna bet on me?”

“I’m doing really well right now.” She said with a shrug. “It wouldn’t be proper to bet on this fight.”

I glanced over at Titus, a sexy older woman had slithered into the boot next to him. She was whispering into his ear, and he was smiling, nodding. Who the fuck is she? But then she handed him a small pouch of gold and exited the booth. She wrapped her arm around a pretty guy half her age, and they disappeared into the crowd together.

“I suppose if we placed any money on this fight, it would also come across badly for Titus.”

“You like him?”

“Very much. He has me figured out…and…he knows where I’m from.”

“Can you trust him?” She looked at me. “I mean, he runs in some interesting circles.”

The conversation was getting too delicate to hold in a room full of vipers.

Regan: He agreed to help with our manpower problem.

Heather: But not for free, Right?

Regan: He said I’ll owe him a favor.

Heather: Does he want you to sleep with him?

Regan: He said he would never ask me to do that. But…I did kind of go down on him?

Heather just glared at me while she angrily texted me in chat.

Heather: BY THE GODDESS!

Regan: It just kind of happened. He’s cute and I was kind of a bitch to him.

Heather: You don’t know him. Just be careful.

Regan: We need help. He will help us. I only trust my friends here in the city and the people from the church. And I don’t need to tell him everything.

Heather: I know, but if he learns about what we’re looking for, it might be too much temptation for him.

Regan: I know, so we don’t say anything to anybody. We don’t talk about it out loud unless we are in a secure area from now on.

Heather: Agreed.

She smiled at me; It was a little sad. She knew this was gonna suck. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” She nodded at the view window over the pit.

“Of course I don’t.” I shrugged. “I’m into things so far over my fucking head, I can barely breathe. At least in the fighting pit, it’ll be straightforward.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “And please don’t blame Leoleth for this.”

“I don’t.” She sighed. “It’s all part of the rogue thing.” She gave me a little kiss on the cheek. “You have been a blessing to me.” She let me go and gleefully walked to the railing to watch the fight.

I sat down with Titus, and Leoleth came by with a plate of food. She sat next to me without asking permission to join us. Not that she needed it.

“Titus,” I said, almost dreading how this would go. “Leoleth.”

“Hi,” Leoleth said, waving at him with a big smile. “I love this place.”

“Thanks,” Titus said. He took another micro sip of his drink. I noticed he had been nursing the same glass of whiskey since the evening started. He kept a clear head, too. I liked that. He awkwardly reached around me with his right hand to shake with Leoleth. She accepted it gingerly.

“Sorry about all the trouble with the Daisy Orc.”

“She’s always looking for a fight.”

“This one,” she said, pointing at me. “She’s more dangerous than she looks. I’m putting my money on her.”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing at me.

“You’d better not fuck with her,” Leoleth said sternly.

“Thank you,” I said, glaring at her.

“No,” Titus said, putting his hand up.

“We’ve just met,” he said to Leoleth. “But I’m very fond of Regan and wouldn’t want to hurt her,” He smiled at me. “And I am very much aware of how dangerous she is.”

“I don’t think you do.” Leoleth smiled sweetly. “But I like you, so we’re okay.”

She bounced up and marched to the betting board. Barking out how she was putting everything on the little elf girl.

“Those are my two besties,” I said. “You haven’t met Gem, the ranger, but I’m sure you’d like her too.”

“I’d like to think I passed the test.” He smiled at me.

“It depends on how the rest of what we agreed on goes down.”

“You’re not asking much.”

“Would you believe me if I told you the less you know, the better?”

“I live in a world full of that.” He grinned. “We can work out the details tomorrow.”

“But first, I have to survive the night.”

He lowered his head conspiratorially. “I could probably help you along with that.”

“Not a good idea,” I said, looking up at him, and he did seem concerned. “I can take whatever she has to dish out. If I lose, I lose honorably.”