I willed the tears away from my eyes. I wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of knowing how upset I was that Artyom had beaten me. Taking his hand, I let him help me to my feet before turning his grip into a handshake. The only solace I could take in the entire situation was that Artyom looked even more shocked than I felt.
"I didn't think you'd fall for that last move," he said with apology in his voice.
"I should have known better," I admitted, giving him a tight smile.
The two of us stood apart watching the remaining two fights. I was so relieved we weren't the last to finish - at least this way I had time to compose myself before the match with Elizaveta.
I could see Dimitri from the corner of my eye, but I didn't turn to face him. If I did, I might cry, and nothing was less professional than a competitor bawling in the middle of the fights like a big baby. So I schooled my face into a determined mask, mentally going back over the battles in my mind, contemplating what had worked, what hadn't, and when it had been more ass than class. I'd been lucky, and I'd been relying on my speed and not enough on strategy. And I'll admit – losing had come as a shock.
The last competitors finished, we gathered to rest. No one said anything, but Elizaveta's happy grin said it all. Eddie gave me a respectful nod that let me know I had his sympathy. Meredith sat close beside me, and on the pretext of tying her shoe leaned down and muttered under her breath "Wipe the fucking floor with her, Rose."
"Ah ha," I hummed without moving my lips. I had a score to settle, now, and there was no way in hell I was going to let both Vitsins best me!
While we were resting, the bookies were frantically updating their boards. I wish I knew what the squiggles, lines, and fractions on the boards meant. I hadn't been able to keep track of all the wins and loses, so far, so I wasn't sure how I now stood in relation to the other competitors. I was pretty sure Artyom was top-ranked, especially now he'd beaten Eddie and me, but who was in second place I wasn't sure.
One thing that was certain was that I needed to beat Elizaveta and fast if I was to have any chance of being in the top two and making it through to the final fight.
As I was trying to make sense of the bookmaker's scribbles, I was surprised to see Dimitri approach the men there, greeting my father and saying a few words before pulling out a large roll of notes and handing it to one of the bookies in exchange for a ticket.
I had never known Dimitri to bet. If you had asked me, I would have said he wasn't a gambling man. But the wad of dosh he'd just handed over suggested otherwise. And why was he betting now? Did he think I was already out for the count, so was betting on a different winner?
It was hard to believe Dimitri would write me off so quickly, but if he thought I wasn't in to win this, then it was going to cost him. Dearly, if the size of the roll of money was anything to go by. I snorted under my breath. I'd teach him. In fact, I'd teach anyone who doubted just what I was capable of.
The referees called us up. Time for our final fights.
I faced off against Elizaveta, going through the polite motions such as shaking her hand. I expected her to say something snide, and I wasn't disappointed.
"I told you Artyom was the better fighter! He deserved to be Novice of the Year."
"Well I suppose one of you has to be able to fight," I taunted quietly enough so what I said wouldn't be overheard. "He must get sick of carrying your dead weight!"
What I'd said must have struck home, because rather than angry she looked almost fearful. But before I had a chance to wonder about it, the whistle blew, and the fight started.
I knew what I had to do. I knew how I had to do it. I feinted to the left and, just like I had, she instinctively protected her right. Then with every bit of strength I had in me, I kicked directly on her already tender left hip. She toppled, and I staked her as soon as she hit the floor. She'd not managed to get a single blow in, yet the fight was over almost before the echo of the starting whistle had finished. It was a complete and utter annihilation.
Not wanting to be a bad sport, despite my earlier comments, I offered her my hand to help her up.
"Fuck off, Сука!" she snapped vehemently.
She'd said it loudly enough that those in the closest seats could hear, and I noticed Guardians Sokolov and Croft exchange lifted eyebrows in response. I also saw the referee make an annotation on his clipboard. Dimitri hadn't said there were points for sportsmanship, but it made sense there might be. Knowing I couldn't afford to lose a single one, I made sure my response was obviously conciliatory.
"Whatever suits you," I said with a twinkle in my eye, lifting my hands up in surrender and stepping back, and letting her find her own way up from the floor.
I walked across to the chairs set out for our benefit on the edge of the gym. I took one at the end of the row, Elizaveta seating herself at the other end – as far away from me as she could. We both had eyes glued to the final matches but in particular those involving Eddie and Artyom. Eddie won his fight, and so did Artyom, so when the final whistle sounded, I was left wondering who the top two fighters would be. We were all sitting on the chairs waiting for the final verdict – Meredith sitting beside me with Eddie on her other side. She knew she was out of the running, but was confident either Eddie or I would be heading into the final fight.
The tallies were made, and the head referee went over to discuss the results with Croft and Sokolov, who were ultimately in charge. Meanwhile, there was much excitement from the crowd, and I could hear my name as well as 'Vitsin' and 'Castile' being bandied about.
I risked a quick look across to where Dimitri sat, surprised to see my father had joined him. Abe gave me a wide, toothy grin before his eyes moved across to where Guardian Sokolov was stepping up to the microphone.
"The final scores are in…" he started, and I was surprised I could hear him my heart was thumping so hard! He read out the results, starting from the bottom. We'd placed; one of the guys from the previous round, Elizaveta, the other dude from the round below, Eblan, Meredith, Eddie…"
I couldn't hear anything after that. The cheering from the crowd was monumental, and I turned to look at my Russian God's huge smile. Somehow, despite my loss to Artyom, I'd made it through to the finals!
Meredith jumped up from her seat and pulled me up into a hug. After she let me go, Eddie came forward to do likewise.
"I'm sorry, Eddie – I know you wanted it, too…"
"Not as much as I want you to kick his ass," he laughed, hiding his disappointment well.
"I'll do my best, Castile. I have a score to settle!"
I then made my way down the line one by one shaking the other competitors' hands. I stopped with my hand out to Elizaveta, but she flicked her hair and pointedly ignored me. Artyom also shook hands with those he'd fought, and then we were doing our final stretches while we waited to be called to the sparring ring.
It was taking forever, mostly due to the rush of people placing their final bets. I wish they'd hurry up because the nervous tension was getting to me! I signaled to one of the referees that I needed to use the bathroom, and two escorted me across the gym to an office with an attached bathroom. Closing the door, I sat for a minute collecting my thoughts as I emptied my bladder.
I was mentally running through Artyom's fight style, what I'd noticed from today's fighting with him and what I'd witnessed in his other fights. I must have been in there longer than I thought because a knock on the door roused me.
"Is everything ok?" a gruff voice enquired not unkindly.
"Yeah, all good. Sorry. Just thinking strategy," I admitted sheepishly, flushing, washing my hands and opening the door.
We walked back to the main sparring ring, and I noticed there would be an adjudicator on each side during the final match. While it was a untimed match which went until one competitor was defeated, because of the amount of betting involved, the referees would be keeping a close eye on the fight to ensure there were no illegal moves or external interference.
"I hoped it would be you," Artyom said pleasantly as we shook hands again.
"I hoped it would be me, too!" I joked, referring to my uncertainty that I'd scored well enough to make the finals.
Standing back, he gave me a final almost wistful look before he pulled an expressionless mask into place and waited for the whistle.
I was in the air as soon as the whistle sounded. I figured since I'd never used aerials against him, thanks to Elizaveta, he would not be expecting one. And I was right! I got a wicked kick to his right shoulder in, and it was hard enough it made him drop his stake! I landed and spun to take advantage of him being unarmed, but unfortunately, he'd managed to duck and collect his stake, returning to position quickly, so he was ready for me. But from the way he was holding his stake, I'd done some damage.
We circled each other, me getting in a few jabs to his ribs. I mentally congratulated myself when I saw him flinch with one particular punch. He'd done a number on my ribs – I wanted to do the same to his! In return, I copped an elbow in the back and narrowly avoided a knee in the hip. I saw it just in time and got out of the way. I did use the opportunity to jump on his foot again. Same one as last time!
Grunting in pain, Artyom stepped back, giving himself a moment to regroup. I attempted to use the moment to take him out with a low leg sweep, but he was a fraction too fast for me and jumped - but I saw him grit his teeth in pain when he landed. Either the foot or the shoulder was causing him grief. Perhaps both.
While it was a dirty way to fight, my only option here might be to wear him down and continue to injure him until I could take him out. While my pride would like a nice, clean, decisive win via a well-timed and positioned stake thrust, in reality, it was whatever got the job done. And in this case, it might be like survivor; outwit, outplay, outlast.
Artyom was observing me carefully when I saw a telltale slight dip of his head and right shoulder. That could mean me was about to ram me, but it could also mean he was changing his weight ready to do a kick. Given the damage I'd just caused his shoulder, I didn't imagine it would be the former, so I was prepared when it turned out to be the latter. He launched, and I grabbed his outstretched foot, twisting it and using his own bodyweight to propel him onto the ground. He hit the mat leading with his sore shoulder, and he grunted out a word so filthy I pretended not to know what it meant!
Rolling, and back on his feet, I knew one way or another this fight would soon be at its end. Artyom was outclassed, and he just couldn't keep taking the damage I was dishing out – and truth be told I was flagging, too. The jut of his jaw told me Artyom was looking to end this sooner rather than later – and that he'd be throwing everything at me in a last-ditch attempt to come out on top.
An,d that's how it went. As in, Artyom literally raced toward me and used his bodyweight to propel me onto the ground.
And that was a mistake. Knocking the stake from his grasp, I put a hand on each shoulder as together we fell, ready to push him off as soon as we landed. He flopped on top of me, and had he been armed it could have been bad, but as it was, he was powerless to take advantage of the situation he'd created. As I pushed up against him, moving him from my body, I felt a grinding in his right shoulder, and he yelped. He offered almost no resistance as I flipped him onto his back, straddling him as I pushed the plastic stake firmly into the padded breastplate.
In eight minutes, twenty-three seconds, he'd managed a handful of minor hits on me. But I had thoroughly worked him over, winning the St. Basil's elimination fights!
"I should have known better than to think I could do it twice," Artyom muttered looking up at me in a daze as the crowd cheered frantically.
"It was a good fight," I declared graciously, carefully climbing off him; something about his gaze made me suspect Artyom had liked my position seated on top of his hips just a little too much.
Standing up, I called over the medics, letting them know there was something not right with my opponent's arm.
"I heard a crack, and it was painful when Rose kicked it, but landing on it finished it off," I heard Artyom say to one before all the voices in the gym swallowed the rest of his words. I was led across to where Guardians Sokolov and Croft were standing at the side of the gym. The crowd was still cheering, including my usually demure best friend who was jumping up and down and screeching in a most undignified way!
"Ladies and gentlemen! May I present to you Guardian Rose Hathaway, this year's winner of the St. Basil's elimination fights and the graduate with this year's highest training score. Please join me in congratulating Guardian Hathaway on her remarkable achievement!"
There were more cheers as I shook Guardian Sokolov's and then Guardian Croft's hand. I was presented with a medal with the year and the St. Basil's logo on it, with space for my name to be added, and then, after a few more remarks congratulating all the participants and particularly those in the final round, the event was declared at an end.
"Hathaway? Go and see your family and friends, but can I see you in, say, an hour's time? We'll get this engraved for you, and you also need to sign the fight register acknowledging your win," Guardian Sokolov explained, taking the medal back from me. "I'll see you in my office."
I quickly agreed, before making my way across the gym floor to where our group was waiting.
Lissa wasted no time scooping me up into a massive hug.
"I knew it! As soon as I heard about these fights, I knew you could win it! I'm so proud of you! You looked amazing out there, Rose!" she gushed.
"She's right," Christian said, once Lissa had stopped her effusive praise. "You were awesome, and I'm so happy for you!"
I smiled at Christian, but the tall, dark, handsome man standing behind him was who I was most interested in. He stepped forward, gently putting his arms around my waist and bending to kiss me on the cheek.
"I'm so proud of you, ангел" he crooned into my ear. "I knew you could do it!"
"Then how come I saw you place a bet right after I lost to Artyom?" I asked, raising both my eyebrows as I stepped back from him a little, conscious that people were looking and we weren't public, yet.
Dimitri smirked.
"Babushka gave me a stack of cash she's been ferreting away. She told me to put it all on you to win, but not until the end of fight six. It was a good call. As soon as you lost to Artyom, the odds for you to win fell. If I'd placed the bet once it was announced you were through to the finals, the return would have been a lot lower!"
"I thought you were betting against me," I pouted.
"Never," he said with a grin.
I accepted congratulations from Vika, Paul, Emil and Celeste and then a bright flash announced Baba's arrival.
"There's my girl!" Abe declared loudly, returning from the bookmakers with a very pleased expression. "Top graduate and winner of the elimination fights!" he trumpeted, on the very slim chance someone had managed to miss that information.
"Yeah, yeah. How much did you make betting?" I asked rolling my eyes as he swept me into a hug.
"Enough!" he said evasively, "but not as much as Pavel. He correctly guessed the final scoring order of you lot before the final fight and picked you as the winner. He got a return of three hundred to one!"
"How much did he put on it?" I asked in surprise. While I didn't know much about betting, that part I understood.
"$100 US."
Abe sounded a little miffed, and I suppose I could see why when I mentally calculated the $30,000 return Pavel had just received. Even though Abe paid his Guardians well, and as his chief Guardian, Pavel would be paid better than most, $30,000 was a sizeable windfall in anyone's language!
"So do we get a look in, or are you hogging her all for yourself?" Eddie laughed, pushing his way forward, Meredith a step or two behind him.
"Thanks for kicking his ass," he laughed softly. "Or should I say shoulder?"
"Whatever gets the job done," I joked, feeling a little bad about what had happened. Winning was one thing, but I hadn't intentionally broken his arm!
"I'm glad it was one of us," Meredith declared, wrapping her arm around my waist. "Let's go back to guest quarters and celebrate!"
"I can only go for an hour – I have to see Sokolov and sign the register in an hour," I explained.
"Well that's an hour of drinking you can get in," Christian said with a grin as we headed upstairs.
"Come to my suite. I took the precaution of preparing some celebratory beverages," Abe announced.
It took us an age to get from the gym to Abe's suite in guest quarters. People wanted to stop and congratulate Eddie, Meredith and me, and more than one person asked if we had plans for our allocations. But we got there, and as soon as the door closed, Dimitri's lips were on mine.
"So so so proud," he whispered against my lips. "You've worked so hard, and it all came together out there."
I giggled as he pulled me up against him, his hands cupping my ass as he gave me kiss after smoldering, long kiss. When I finally broke away, I could see Lissa and Christian watching our display in surprise. This was the most affectionate we'd been in front of them to date, and I think they were a bit alarmed by how passionate we were. If only they knew!
Abe finally tempted me away from my man by filling the kitchen counter with shot glasses filled with ice-cold vodka. Making toast after toast, we all gathered, downed the glasses in quick succession. I was grateful Abe remembered to pay tribute to Meredith and Eddie's achievements. They'd come third and fourth respectively, which was no mean feat. He also toasted Dimitri for training us, thanked Lissa and Christian for coming to visit and again his own Guardians for their help and assistance, sneaking in a joke that since Pavel had done so well maybe he'd like to share his winnings with us all.
I'd had six shots of vodka, on an empty stomach, so quickly shoveled down a couple of sandwiches before it was time to see Sokolov and claim my medal.
"Do you want me to come with you, Roza?" Dimitri asked from where he was seated on the sofa chatting with Pavel.
"No need. I won't be long. You relax." The look I gave him suggested 'rest while you can.' I had plans for later this evening!
"Back in five," I announced, waving to my family and friends as I ducked out, leaving them to continue the party.
Forty minutes later I stumbled back into Baba's guest suite, barely able to walk I was crying so hard.
Dimitri was on his feet the second he saw me, his arms open as I threw myself at him, head against his chest as his arms closed protectively around me.
"Rose! What's wrong?!" he asked in shock as I sobbed.
I couldn't answer. Now I was here in his arms I just cried all the harder.
"What happened, kiz?" Abe demanded.
My breath hitching, I finally stammered, "Croft. After Sokolov, Croft was waiting to see me…"
Abe spat some instructions in what I think was Turkish, and Pavel put down his shot glass and moved into another room, returning with what appeared to be a couple of handguns. He passed one to my father, and suddenly Abe was standing next to where I was cradled in Dimitri's arms.
"What did Croft do, Rose?" he asked in a calm, soothing tone, bending to peer carefully at my face. "Did he hurt you?"
"No!" I wailed, finally understanding the direction of Baba's thoughts. "As the winner and the runner-up, they're sending Artyom and me on a mission together. To the Alchemists! The assignment is for five years!"