Chapter Forty-One

Regan St. James: He'll Cut a Bitch

Zo became a blur heading toward me, but after fighting Sybele she looked like a cheap animation. It was surprisingly easy to parry her sword thrust, catching it on the edge of my wakizashi and using her own momentum to turn it harmlessly away. The trick to fighting opponents with superior strength was never to engage them directly. If Zo thought she could strong-arm her way through this, she was wrong.

Showing a tiny glimmer of skill, she turned into the rebuff and came around, bringing her sword in an arc at my head. I ducked underneath it, and kicked backwards at her knee. She stumbled, but didn’t go down. She recovered with a quick slash at my middle. I jumped backwards to avoid it.

Suddenly, Ira’s voice rang out. “Cross the circle and your life is forfeit!”

Glancing behind me I saw that my left heel was scant inches from the edge of the circle. Maybe Zo wasn’t as dumb as I thought. Point for her.

I started forward, and Zo came towards me again. Even somebody who wasn’t a hunter would have seen it coming. Diving to the floor, I rolled under her, aiming at her legs with my blade. She jumped over it, surprising me again, but her timing was off, and I clipped her shoe.

For a second I thought she was going down, but she lashed around with her sword, catching it in the lip of the circle. A centimeter forward and she would have lost without me doing a thing. Pushing against her sword like a cane, she kept herself upright and recovered her balance.

Lucky bitch, I thought.

Not to be outdone, I retook my own stance. Zo was more careful after that. Instead of rushing towards me she began to cautiously start around me. I recognized it as another ploy to get me towards the edge, and went deeper into the circle rather than keep the same distance between us.

I studied her as she glared intently at me. She was still closer to the boundary, and I was in the middle of the dueling circle. Whispers starting to ripple through the crowd. Apparently the spectators were getting restless, but neither of us let it bother us.

“I hope you’ll excuse the audience,” she said out the blue, coming slowly forward. “But I just have to ask. Was it worth it?”

Saying nothing, I let her words wash off me, focusing on her body language instead. That didn’t lie.

“Your little friend’s life, I mean.” With deceptive casualness, she went out of her fighting stance, resting her sword tip on the ground. “I mean, I know Ira’s an amazing lay, but really. How does it feel to know you valued a quick cock up your ass more than her life?”

“She’s not dead,” I spat back, breaking my silence. I shouldn’t have, but hearing her talk about Milly sent white-hot fury splashing down my guts.

A flicker of something flashed over Zo’s face, but she shrugged it off. “Not yet. Do you know how long people in blood comas survive? Not long. Their bodies are too busy reliving the ecstasy of the bite. Sometimes the brain forgets to tell the body to do important things, like process nutrients. Sometimes, even with all the IVs in the world pumping into them, they just…” She made a flippant hand gesture. “Waste away.”

Cocking her hip, she tossed me a mean smile. “Not that it was much a waste. Only certain people can have blood comas. It makes sense. Getting so turned on they can’t even breathe on their own? Now, that’s what you call a whore.”

Something exploded inside me. I had no vampiric speed to draw on, but I was racing towards Zo so fast she barely got her sword up in time.

“Don’t,” I hissed, pulling my sword away, swinging it at her middle. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Laughing, Zo blurred away. Her sword was coming towards me, and I realized with a jolt I was too close to stop it. There wasn’t even time to grit my teeth. All I could was turn hastily to the side. The blade bit through my flimsy shirt, chewing up my chest as it went. Swallowing the cry, I backed away, reaching instinctually to the wound. It didn’t feel too bad, just deep enough to hurt.

“First blood’s mine, hunter,” she grinned.

I slashed at her, but she danced away.

“Speaking of blood, you should have been there when I cut the cunt open.” Zo sighed wistfully. “Good times.”

“Shut up!” I screamed, bringing my sword to bear, but again Zo avoided me.

“I drank her down!” She crowed. “I cut her everywhere, and danced in the spray!”

Inarticulate with rage, I swiped at her head, then withdrew and hacked at her torso, following it up with a quick slice at her chest. Each time, Zo slid perfectly out of the way.

Hefting her sword in one hand, she said airily, “I wonder what I even need this for.”

Choking back the anger, I retreated, ignoring the burn of her triumphant face as I put space between us. Come on, St. James, you’re better than this. She was playing me, and I was falling for it, hook, line, and sinker. Milly was too close in my head, my guilt too real and raw. It was clouding my judgement and I was letting it. There was even an ugly gash over my heart to show for it. If I didn’t get a handle on this, I was going to die. Simple as that.

I had taken the hearts of vampires better than Zo Williams with my bare hands. Not only I was letting her play my weakness, I’d given them to her on a fucking silver platter. I had to turn this around, and I had to do it now. Don’t be the hunter cliche, I thought to myself. Don’t be the guy that goes down like a chump because he can’t pull his head out.

“You okay over there?” she taunted. “I’m waiting.”

But I knew better than that, and I remembered that now. I didn’t move.

“Huh,” she said. “Guess you didn’t care that much about what’s-her-face, after all.”

With every spark of feeling I had I wanted to go over there and slam my wakizashi into her head until it erupted in blood and gore, but I had recovered myself. If I closed the distance between us, Zo would hack me to pieces. Real hunters let the vampires come to them.

And so, though it was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, I let the insult to my love for Milly stand.

Spreading my arms, I said, “I’m right here.”

Her face darkened, not liking that I was spoiling her little game.

“Fine,” she said, and started towards me.

The world slowed as I regained my hunter’s calm. I rejected Zo’s taunts, met the battle on my own terms, made the moment mine like I’d been taught. I couldn’t lift a car above my head, or move with inhuman speed. But I didn’t need to. I already had everything I needed, and it was time to put it to work.

In a split second, I knew what to do. I’d been using weapons since I could walk, but it was evident Zo hadn’t. With the hyper-focus of my battle vision I could see that she was holding her sword all wrong for running. She was holding it upright, the blade either straight up or out in front of her as she moved. Not only did it slow her down by ruining her aerodynamics, it also made the flat of the blade cross over her field of vision. It may not have made much difference to a super-strong, super-fast vampire, but to a trained hunter it was the perfect opening.

Right as the broadsword passed over the path of her eyes I sprang into action. Spinning on one foot, I came around to Zo’s right side with my sword primed and ready, slicing the back of her hand. It was the pressure of the blade more than any pain that made the sword fly from her awkward grasp. I kept moving, landing in another step, using the motion to swing around and knee her in the back.

She hit the ground and rolled to her back, trying to get to her feet.

“Wait—” she gasped, but my arm was already in motion.

Familiar resistance met my blade, but good follow-through was the key. I turned my body into the blow as I cleaved through Zo’s neck. Blood spattered off the end of my sword as I brought it clean through. The body pitched over, and her head bounced across the dueling circle. As it rolled to a stop, the surprised expression etched forever on her features reheated my contempt.

“Fuck you, bitch,” I whispered.

That was for you, Milly, I thought. I’m sorry.

“Beloved St. James wins,” Sybele said calmly, as if not at all effected. “Not yet, Elder Greer. The agreement was that he must step out of the circle unaided."

I’d forgotten the Lady perched in her chair, but it wasn’t until I heard the completely unexpected sound of solitary clapping that the room came back to me.

Blinking, I looked up from Zo’s body to see the room, almost as one, bend slightly at the waist, and turn their heads to the side. A large blond man, the source of the subdued clapping, was standing in the entrance to the great hall. He walked like something from a movie, so purposeful and direct I almost couldn’t describe it. With his longish hair—longer than mine—he looked like something from an eighties sci-fi movie.

Then it really hit me. Everyone was bowing. A quick glance to Ira showed that he wasn’t where I’d left him on the outside of the spectator circle. He was just a few feet from me on the boundary of the dueling ring. Even he was doing it, offering his neck to the man. That was when he said it.

Head still inclined, he murmured, “Primus Rurik. Welcome back, Lord.”

I can only blame the adrenaline rush, but it took a minute to sink in. Primus Rurik. Ira’s blood-father. Leader of the House.

Oh.

Shit.