“He made me fight. He was pissed that I didn’t die the first time in the ring. Or the second, or the twentieth. Turns out that I’m more powerful than other vampires. Probably connected to the sunlight thing. Eventually, I grew numb to the death around me, and I started craving the fights. A way to release my hatred, you know?” No, she probably didn’t. “All the while, I plotted escape, and when I thought the time was right, I pretended I was over what Fade had done to me and Eleanor, and I made a deal with him. I’d fight his biggest rival’s champion, and if I won, he’d release me.”
“So you won.”
He snorted. “Nearly died, and I needed a week to recover, but I won.” He listened to the screech of some creature, took a deep breath, and continued. “I was still full of hate, but I knew I couldn’t kill Fade—I’d seen too many try. So I figured I’d do it from the inside.”
Lena regarded him steadily, with no judgment in her gaze. “You started working for him.”
“Yep. I claimed to be desperate for money, and since I’d once run a tavern, he thought I’d be useful in his social clubs. I had it all figured out. I was going to ruin him, sabotage his business so his customers would either kill him or bring Justice Dealers down on his head. Problem was, he was two steps ahead of me. He found my only living relative. My nephew.”
Her fingers tightened on his leg. “What did he do?”
“Cagey bastard got a vampire to turn him so he’d live long enough to keep me under his thumb. Then he gave him a job here so I’d have to see every day what I’ll lose if I don’t keep the fight club from going under.”
She sucked in a surprised breath. “Marsden. He’s your nephew, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. But he doesn’t know it. I was turned when he was only two, and I didn’t want to expose my sister and him to what I’d become, so I let them think I was dead.” He rolled his eyes. “Guess I am.” Okay, technically, he was. But for the first time since being turned, he didn’t feel that way. Lena had made him very much alive. “You should have left when I told you to, Lena. You should have gone and never looked back.”
“You know why I couldn’t.” She shot him a glare. “And you pissed me off.”
Right. That. What the hell . . . he might as well tell her the truth. It wasn’t as if any of it mattered now.
“I was trying to save your life,” he said. “Fade needed a virgin sacrifice for a new fight club he’s breaking ground on. If you wouldn’t sleep with me, I had to get you the hell out of the club and keep you away.”
She blinked. “How did you know I’m . . .”
“A virgin? I didn’t. He did.”
She cocked a blond eyebrow, clearly dubious about his intentions. “So you thought you’d be saving my life by ha**g s*x with me?”
Sounded so lame when she put it that way. “Ah . . . yeah. But I underestimated your willingness to hang onto your virginity.”
“I think you overestimated your effect on the opposite sex,” she said wryly.
“Me? Nah.” He winked, enjoying the brief moment of levity. “You wanted me.”
She made a low, needy sound that would have lit him on fire if they were anywhere but being held captive in a moldy dungeon. “I did want you.”
“Then why did you refuse? We could have avoided this mess if you’d just slept with me.”
“I can’t have sex.” She averted her gaze as though ashamed. “Another shifting issue. It’s impossible for me.”
Now he felt like an even bigger piece of shit for coming down on her when she didn’t jump into bed with him. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly.
Footsteps pounded outside the cage, keeping him from saying anything else. Not that he knew what to say. When Fade and two of his henchmen stopped at the door, he wasn’t surprised.
“It’s time.” Fade tapped on the door’s iron bars in an annoyingly cheery tempo. “With me, Sabine. Your female is going to the arena.”
Nate exploded to his feet, putting himself between the demon and Lena. “You’re not touching her.” He hadn’t been able to protect Eleanor, but by the gods, he’d die before he let Lena be killed.
The two rhino-fiends raised their weapons—lightning sticks, demon inventions that cast a bolt of something that was a cross between electricity and acid. As it stunned you into temporary paralyzation, it ate away the flesh around the area it had struck.
“Nate,” Lena murmured, her palm coming down on his back. “Please. Go with them.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Time for plan B. He pegged Fade with a hard look. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
Fade nodded at one of the grayish demons with him, and the thing opened the door.
Lena clutched Nate’s arm, holding desperately tight. “Whatever you’re planning . . . don’t.” She lowered her voice as he turned to face her. “I’m dying anyway. Please, don’t make this harder on yourself.”
“Lena.” He cupped the back of her head and put his lips to her ear. “I haven’t had anything worth living for in a long time. Now I do. Trust me.”
He felt guilty for lying, because although what he’d just said was the truth, there was more to it. He also hadn’t had anything worth dying for in a long time. Now he did.
Without looking back, he exited the cell and walked with Fade to the staging area, an open room containing magical artifacts, painted symbols, and an altar. Fury built with every step, all the hatred that had burned out coming back with a vengeance, and Nate welcomed it like an old friend. Once inside, he rounded on the demon.
“Put me in the ring, motherfucker. Put me in there instead of her.”
“That would hardly be fair,” Fade growled. “We don’t have a fighter who can beat you.”
“You can.”
Fade’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re challenging me?”
“Challenging? I plan to kill you. But if I lose, Vladlena goes free.” The demon would take the deal, because the source of his power didn’t come from combatants who won—it came from those who lost. It was why the fight club was so popular . . . people from all over came to fight and lose, knowing they could get whatever they wanted upon their deaths . . . wealth for their children, revenge on an enemy, protection for a loved one. The catch was that if you lost, Fade collected your soul, and most challengers didn’t realize just what “losing your soul” meant.
In this case, it meant that Fade traded the souls he gathered to the highest bidder, and there were people you did not want to own your soul.
“And if I lose?” Fade asked.
“The club is mine.”
Fade hesitated.
“Come on,” Nate cajoled. “You know you won’t lose. And even if you do, you can resurrect.”
Fade hissed. “How do you know?”
“You think I didn’t learn everything there was to learn about your sorry ass?” Nate had just signed his own death warrant. Fade couldn’t risk anyone knowing the truth about him. An enemy who knew how to kill him permanently . . . yeah, not good for someone who had so many enemies.
“What else do you know?”
“You mean, do I know that Budag is your vivacant?” Nate smiled. “That he, and he alone, can bring you back to life? Yeah, I know that. The only reason I haven’t killed him is that I couldn’t risk you finding out I did it and taking it out on Marsden.”
Fade’s skin rippled, the texture alternating between wrinkled and smooth, the color doing a chameleon between tan, red, and the surrounding gray walls. The dude was both excited and angry, something Nate had seen only a handful of times. In his research, he’d learned that the skin thing was a reaction to stress, a natural process that increased the demon’s strength and stamina. Not good.
Fade snatched a parchment from the stack on the altar and slapped it down hard on the stone. “Let’s write this up, vampire. And then I’m grinding you into hellhound food.”
Chapter 11
It had taken everything Lena had not to break down as Nate walked away. She might not know his world like he did, but she had keen senses, and she’d smelled trouble.
Which came in the form of three ugly, horned demons bearing those funky knotted sticks. She’d started to fight them, but after they’d explained what the sticks did, she decided to save her strength for when it would do her more good. Now, blindfolded and shackled, Lena tripped and stumbled her way down the passage, the two demons on either side of her dragging and pushing if she slowed down.
The sound of an anxious crowd, and of blood, bowels, and excrement grew stronger, and she knew she was once again entering the vile arena. One of the demons removed her shackles while the other stripped off her blindfold, and then she was shoved through the gate into the blinding light of the pit.
The first thing she saw was Nate, barefoot, bare-chested, wearing only jeans. His hands were fisted around an ax handle as he faced Fade, who held a wicked curved blade and a wooden stake. Every drop of color drained from Nate’s face when he saw her.
“Hey, sis.”
She wheeled around. “Vic,” she gasped. “What . . . what are you doing?”
Vic pegged her with those black marbles he called eyes. “I’m finally going to rid the world of your weakness.”
“But Vaughn—”
“I told Vaughn I’d leave you alone on your turf. This is mine.” His body began to morph, the sound of bones cracking and reshaping so unbelievably loud in the noisy club.
Lena backed away, knowing full well that when the ten-second process was over, she’d be facing a 250-pound hyena that was far more powerful than its full-animal counterpart.
“This wasn’t part of the deal!” Nate snarled.
Fade’s laughter rang out, echoing endlessly. “You die, she lives. That was the deal,” Fade said. “But if she dies before you do . . .” He shrugged. “Well, that can’t be helped, can it?”
A low-pitched, jagged growl brought her attention back to Vic, who was now all animal. All monster. Drool dripped from his open mouth, which exposed sharp teeth meant to rip flesh from victims while he ate them alive. Terror welled as she eased backward, scanning the area for a weapon. Unfortunately, there was nothing, and though both her father and Wraith had spent time with her in Underworld General’s gym, teaching her self-defense, she knew damned good and well that her meager hand-to-hand skills weren’t going to help her against the beast in front of her.
Nate moved so fast she didn’t see him until he was at her side, swinging the ax. Vic yelped as the blade grazed him in the shoulder, but then Fade was there, his weapon coming down in a vicious arc.
Nate whirled, narrowly avoiding being beheaded, but his own swing at the demon went wild, leaving an opening for Vic. Her brother lunged, catching her forearm between his jaws. A firestorm of agony accompanied the crunch of bone. Screaming, she punched him in the head, but she was no match for the brother who had beaten her in every battle since they were cubs. He shook her like a rag doll, and her world became a blur.
A warm spray splattered her face—her own blood, she realized, as Vic sent her flying into the wall. Pain shattered her ribs, spine, and arm as she crumpled to the ground. Though she could hear the battle between Nate and Fade clearly, she could barely see through the veil of red dripping into her eyes. In a split second, though, her vision filled with fur and teeth. She twisted, barely avoiding having her face ripped off, and at the same time, she jammed her good arm back, nailing the hyena in the throat.
Vic gagged and fell back, but murder burned like coals in his eyes. When he came at her again, she knew she was dead. Hot, fetid breath scoured her face and claws tore into her shoulders. In a frenzy fueled by fear and adrenaline, she kicked, hit, lifted her knee to nail the beast in the gut.
Once again, blood sprayed her. Arterial blood, and a lot of it. Vic had killed her. He’d finally . . . dropped to the ground? She blinked, scrambling backward in the sand like a crab. Vic’s body, split open through his rib cage, lay sprawled against the wall, twitching as it shifted back into human form.
Nate had killed her brother. Maybe it was wrong of Lena to not feel bad about it, but right now she didn’t care. Ax blade dripping with streaks of shiny crimson, Nate tried to swing back around to Fade, but saving her life had already cost him. Fade’s blade flashed, and Nate went down, hamstrung all the way to his thigh bone.
“Nate!” Hauling herself to her feet, she staggered toward him.
The crowd cheered, their bloodthirsty chants ringing in her ears. Fade leaped into the air, his spin-kick landing hard on Nate’s jaw. Before Nate could recover, the demon seized Nate’s wrist and flung him like a Frisbee across the arena. Nate’s body hit the far wall with a thump.
He didn’t move.
“No!” Horror and pain squeezed Lena’s heart, and as Fade sauntered toward Nate, stake poised to strike a death blow, her legs gave out. Confusion and helplessness collided, spinning her emotions out of control. She wanted to scream, but nothing would come. She wanted to help Nate, but she couldn’t get her limbs to work.
Her entire body stung, stretched, felt like it was coming apart at the seams. Was she . . . yes. She was shifting. Massive gray paws hit the ground, the wrong color for a hyena, but screw it, she didn’t care. Power ripped through her . . . power and strength and clarity. Without hesitation, she tore across the arena, a sense of elation, of freedom, singing through her veins with every leap and bound.