Vampire Fight Club
Page 14

 Larissa Ione

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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.
She hit Fade in the back and closed her jaws around his head. Even as she crunched down on his skull, she heard a commotion, a ripple in the crowd.
She scented them before she saw them—Eidolon and his brothers. His sister. Con. And several others from the hospital and Eidolon’s extended family. Even some members of The Aegis.
She didn’t think, just . . . shifted back before any of their weapons tore through her like Nate’s ax had done to Vic. Her saviors were like locusts, sweeping through the place and fighting the guards. Eidolon and Shade rushed to her, but she shook her head.
“I’m okay. But Nate needs help.”
Help was putting it mildly. He was unconscious, a stake sitting dead center in his chest and multiple, deep gashes all over his body, some gaping so wide that shredded muscle spilled out like raw meat. One leg was nearly severed, and his handsome face was all but unrecognizable.
“We need to get him back to UG, stat.” E’s tone was grim as he kneeled next to Nate. “The stake in his chest is a frag spike.”
Fear was an icy spear in Lena’s gut. Frag spikes were designed to kill vampires the same as a regular stake, but they fragmented like a bullet when they entered flesh, allowing for more chances to strike a lethal blow. Even if they didn’t kill right away, the slivers took on lives of their own, traveling around the body until they found the heart.
“Lena,” Shade said, even as he signaled to one of the medics for a portable stretcher, “do you want this?”
She knew what he was asking. Inside the hospital, the brothers performed their duties on even the most vile creatures. Outside was another story. If she gave the word, Shade and Eidolon would put Nate out of his misery right then and there. But Nate wasn’t the monster she’d thought he was, and she nodded.
“I want this more than anything,” she said softly. “Save him.”
Chapter 12
Nate hadn’t felt this crappy since . . . well, he couldn’t remember when. Consciousness was elusive, and when he did manage to grasp it and hold on for more than a few moments, pain wracked him and made him wish for slumber again.
Except that he needed to be awake, because he kept hearing Vladlena’s voice, and he was desperate to know that he wasn’t dreaming her softly-spoken words.
Slowly, he pried open his eyes. A grayish fog swirled all around him, but through it he could make out hospital equipment and walls scrawled with red symbols. On the ceiling, thick chains hung in neat loops, and when he turned his head to look out the open doorway, he saw people in scrubs moving past. Beyond them . . .
He blinked. Blinked again. The fog didn’t clear, but a person came into focus, a person he hadn’t seen since the day he became a vampire.
It was the male who had turned him.
The massive guy hadn’t changed; he was still wearing some sort of plate bone armor, and his pale hair still hung to his shoulders, with two thin braids at each temple. Tattoos on his throat writhed as he spoke with a Seminus demon in a black paramedic uniform.
Nate waited for the hot, searing hatred to wash over him, the way it always had when he thought of the male who had taken Nate’s mortal life from him. But nothing happened. Nate had fantasized about finding the bastard and dismembering him slowly, making him pay for what he’d done.
Now . . . now Nate was oddly calm about seeing the guy. The person Nate really wanted to see was Lena, and so far, she was a no-show.
Nate.
She might be a no-show, but her sweet voice was a soothing whisper in his head. Closing his eyes, he let the male who’d made him a vampire disappear, and he concentrated on Lena, wishing he’d had a chance to make love to her.
Nate.
He inhaled, caught a whiff of the fresh scent unique to Lena’s silky skin. Rolling his head to the side, he opened his eyes again. She was standing next to him, dressed in purple scrubs, fiddling with an IV bag of blood. And she was wearing his stethoscope.
“Hey.” Her smile wrapped around his heart, and he smiled back like a besotted fool. “It’s about time you woke up. As soon as this bag empties, you should be back almost to 100 percent.”
“Are you . . .” He had to clear his throat of what seemed to be a year of disuse. “Are you okay?”
“Eidolon healed me when we first came in. Two days ago, in case you’re wondering.” She took his hand, her warm palm heating him. “For a while there, I thought I was going to lose you.”
He’d thought that too. But then she’d come out of nowhere, all fur and fangs, and . . . “You shifted,” he whispered. “I saw you.” What she’d shifted into was another question. He’d never seen anything like the huge, beautiful canine.
“I’m free, Nate.” Her voice was full of charming, childlike excitement. “I’m going to live.”
Nate pushed himself up on one elbow. “How did it happen?”
The sound of a cleared throat brought Nate’s head around. A dark-haired male in scrubs and a white lab coat stood in the doorway.
“Seems our Vladlena is a rare crossbreed. I’m pissed that I didn’t think of that sooner.”