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Rebirth - Book 1 Rogues Shifter Series

Page 44

by Gayle Parness


  Chapter Forty-four

  The difference in the atmosphere of the crowd was dramatic. Our supporters no longer laughed, or even spoke. All eyes were on the newest arrivals.

  On the opposite side of the clearing, Eleanor and Antoine smirked at Garrett and me, their eyes sparkling with bloodlust, their fangs beginning to show. They looked about as terrifying as vampires can look, and that’s saying a lot.

  I trembled, my gut clenching. Garrett sent, “Start your calming and focusing exercises.” I nodded and moved into a lunge position, stretching out quads, gluts and hamstrings. I continued with exercises to loosen my back and shoulders and upper arms, but I never moved my gaze away from Antoine, silently praying he couldn’t smell my terror.

  Eleanor was wearing a short white leather dress with a low neckline and a slit on the side. It stretched to fit her shape perfectly, making the high boots look even more amazing. Antoine was dressed in cream leather pants and nothing else. Jeez. I guess he figured I’d swoon and drop dead after one glimpse at all those muscles. His mouth was bloody, as if he’d just fed, so I tried to ignore the gore and looked to see if he carried a weapon.

  Seeing me watching him, he pulled out a wicked looking ten-inch knife. He played with it, tossing it around skillfully and slicing it through the air in practiced maneuvers. My hand automatically went to my belt where Liam’s smaller blade rested. I swallowed, my throat feeling dry, but was relieved when the hilt of my dagger warmed, then vibrated in my grasp.

  Eight other vampires were spread out behind Eleanor and Antoine, more than Garrett had anticipated. Lily was there and Garrett pointed out others: Sasha, William, Heinrich and Yvette, and three newly-made teenaged vampires, probably no more than fifteen years old when they’d been turned. The young ones hissed at us like feral cats.

  Maya moved into the middle of the clearing and spoke. “We are here to witness two duels: the first between Jacqueline Crawford Cuvier and Antoine DuLac, the second between Garrett Cuvier and Eleanor Howard. The duels will be fought in accordance with vampiric law. There is no time limit. Torture and the drinking of an opponent’s blood is allowed. Only one fighter in each duel will leave the ring alive.” At this point the crowd had become completely silent, the serious nature of the night’s events sinking in.

  “Each fighter may bring one weapon into the ring with him, but it must first be presented to our judge for approval. If a weapon is enchanted, it must have been created with its magic and not altered unnaturally for the purpose of the duel. This includes the use of poison. Our judge will determine whether a weapon is acceptable or not.

  “No one outside the ring may interfere in any way, on pain of death. This includes the use of mental powers.” As she spoke she scanned the entire crowd, but the seriousness of her words was clear.

  “The duels will be judged by an outside neutral party. Kennet, Fae Lord of Cascade, has agreed to take on this task.” I looked toward the woods and saw a tall, slender man with a glowing golden aura emerge. It was hard for any of us to look at him at first because his aura was so bright his facial features were unclear. Many of the people who’d come to support us took a few steps back, obviously afraid. When he reached the center of the clearing, his glowing aura dimmed and he greeted Maya with a small nod of his head. Some entrance.

  His hair was long and very light in color, a platinum blond bordering on white. He had sharp features, thin lips, and deep purple eyes, his gaze taking in the four of us with only a mild curiosity.

  After Maya had left the ring, he turned to survey the crowd, speaking in a rich melodic voice, free of any fae accent. “Jacqueline Crawford Cuvier and Antoine DuLac, please come into the ring to present your weapons.”

  Antoine moved quickly to the center, pulling out his knife and handing it hilt first to the fae lord. Kennet examined it and nodded, returning it to Antoine who then left the ring to kneel at Eleanor’s feet as if he were a knight asking for his queen’s favor. I moved hesitantly into the center and handed Lord Kennet Liam’s blade. His eyes met mine and instantly he was past my psychic wall and in my head.

  “Who gave you this blade?”

  “I borrowed it from a friend.”

  “A powerful friend?” He arched an eyebrow and smirked.

  “Yes.” My mouth felt dry. He was every bit as frightening as Antoine.

  “Tell me his name.” I felt a strong nudge pushing me to tell him. I strengthened my wall in response, but instantly realized how stupid I was being, since he’d already breached it so easily.

  “No, I can’t. I promised to stay silent.”

  His eyes narrowed and yet I felt him withdraw, deciding not to push harder. He could have forced me to tell him, or he could have taken the information without my permission. “You choose not to betray your source. I will not weaken you before a battle by forcing you to be honest. Did he offer it to you freely?”

  “Yes. I wasn’t planning on using any weapon.”

  “Then why did you accept his extraordinary gift?” Kennet was handling the blade as if it was a rare and exquisite artifact, but the weapon did not take on his aura as it did mine and Liam’s.

  “I accepted it because he advised me to take it. I’ve learned to listen to his advice.” My answer seemed to amuse the fae lord because he smiled at me, yet the action was cold—detached. He was nothing like Liam. Were all full-blood fae more like Lord Kennet? If so, I’d make sure to avoid taking a trip to Faerie.

  “To wield this blade, one must be powerful indeed. I will watch your duel with great interest, Jacqueline Crawford Cuvier.” Lord Kennet returned Liam’s weapon with a nod and I spun and walked quickly to Garrett, still shivering from the encounter. I wrapped my arms around my mate, snuggling against him and shutting my eyes as his embrace calmed my fears.

  “Remember our date,” he whispered. I smiled against his chest.

  “In one minute the duel will begin.” Kennet spoke loudly so all would hear.

  Garrett sent, “Francois is here. He’ll heal you if you need help when the duel is over. You may have to drink his blood, but you can trust him.” He lifted my face. “Je t’aime, mon ange.”

  “Je t’aime.” I managed to smile as I turned away, allowing my hand to run down his arm until only our fingertips were touching. With one last step I was on my own, moving into the clearing where Antoine waited, his lips curled in a vicious sneer.

  We circled each other, glaring and waiting for the battle to start. I pulled in a slow breath, allowing a deathly calm to replace the fear in my heart. I thought about Carly’s violent murder and allowed my anger to build inside me. Antoine hissed and moved his knife back and forth between his hands, but I left my enchanted blade in its sheath, thinking of Liam’s words as he’d slid it into place.

  “You do have the strength to wield it. You must trust yourself.”

  Magic pooled around my feet, so I drew it into my center and shaped it to my will. The sounds of the crowd died away, as all of my mental focus, energy and power was held in readiness, aimed toward Antoine’s destruction.

  “The duel will begin now!” Lord Kennet’s voice rang out.

  He was on me before I took another breath, biting viciously into my shoulder and ripping off a chunk of flesh. I avoided his knife by striking his wrist with a brick of my energy, but the pain from his bite was excruciating and my attack wasn’t as strong as I’d hoped. I managed to jab him near the heart with another sharpened shaft of power and he backed off, looking surprised but pleased.

  Yes, Antoine, I’m going to give you a good fight.

  He rushed me, attempting to smash his fist into my face. I turned away at the last second so he only grazed the side of my mouth, splitting my lip. I responded with a flat wave of energy, sending him flying across the clearing and crashing into a tree. Unfortunately, he was on his feet immediately, wiping the blood off his mouth and smiling.

  Antoine raced forward again, using his vamp speed this time, so I slashed out immediately with a mental slic
e across his neck, causing him to growl, but not slow down. Although I tried to avoid him, he hacked at me, ripping through my pants and leaving a long gash in my thigh. I tripped him at the last second, pushed out another wave of energy, sending him rolling once more to the far side of the clearing where he jumped quickly to his feet. He touched his wounded neck, lifting his bloody fingers to his mouth and rubbing saliva on his injury. He sneered at me as the wound closed and disappeared.

  I was bleeding from three places now and I didn’t have much time left if I was going to have the strength to kill him. The steady blood loss would eventually weaken me so much I’d be unable to defend myself, let alone attack, but I didn’t want to use up my strength healing my wounds just yet.

  We began to circle once again. Antoine spoke, his deep voice taunting me to act. “So, Cheetah, you use the lines well. But it won’t mean a fucking thing when I rip you apart piece by piece and drain you in front of your lover and your friends.” I didn’t reply. “Carly begged me to stop. Please stop ... please.” He imitated a woman’s voice, mocking my friend’s death. “Then she screamed and screamed.”

  His laughter burned a hole in my gut as I dug my nails into my palms to pull in my focus. He’d made a deadly mistake, because now I was seething with rage, and nothing brought my focus to a point better than anger. Liam’s knife vibrated against my hip, responding to my fury. Without any plan on how I’d use it, I slid it out of its sheath. It felt pleasantly warm in my hand as its energy merged with mine with an almost sentient desire for blood. Antoine’s blood.

  My eyes narrowed—glaring at my enemy in anticipation of avenging my friend. Opening my mind to accept the unique magic the fae blade offered up, I braced my body for his next attack.

  Antoine raced toward me in a blur, his fangs fully out and his knife slashing through the air. I ducked behind him in my own blur of vamp speed, jabbing him in the kidneys with Liam’s fae blade. When he stumbled I raised my blade to strike again, but he threw himself away from my intended strike, roaring with fury and pain.

  I’d been fighting for only ten minutes, but it felt like hours. My muscles ached and I was bleeding badly from the wound on my thigh. I was using a great deal of energy and needed to find a way to conserve my strength until the right time came to strike the killing blow. Magic continued to wrap around me, so I used it to darken my aura, allowing anger to suck energy from Antoine the way he’d sucked blood and strength from Carly. The first flicker of fear flashed in his eyes as I grew stronger and he weakened.

  Knowing he was in trouble, Antoine barreled into me, knocking me down hard. Liam’s blade flew across the clearing, completely out of my reach. My head bounced off the ground, stunning me, my vision blurring. When it cleared a few seconds later, Antoine loomed above me, hissing with fury, his lip curled into an angry snarl. He lifted his foot and stomped down on my left hand with his boot. I cried out as bones shattered and muscles tore. Excruciating pain took away my ability to focus and defend myself as I watched helplessly as he lifted his heavy boot once more. He kicked me solidly in the ribs and I went flying across the clearing, landing in a heap not too far from the fae knife.

  In the throes of my agony, I heard its magic call to mine. The blade craved more of Antoine’s blood, demanding I draw on the power it offered up and use it to kill him. Finding strength in desperation, I pulled more magic into my center and promised it Antoine’s life. The cool stone handle materialized in my palm, as a sudden burst of energy gave me a more focused confidence. My enemy sauntered toward me, grinning with malice and taking his time. Blood was dripping from my mouth, leg, shoulder and hand as I raised myself to a kneeling position and faced Antoine with a focus that left the rest of the clearing behind.

  I’d have only one chance, so I hid the knife by my side, willing it to remain unseen and waited for my prey to come closer.

  “Antoine,” I rasped. “Please….” Groaning, I spit out blood and coughed. His kick had probably cracked a rib or two, but I forced myself to ignore the pain and clutched the hilt of the blade. It thrummed with power. Antoine didn’t see it there. His entire focus was centered on my anguished expression. I was sure he thought the blade still lay where it had landed before.

  His arrogance would kill him.

  I kept my agonized mask in place as I opened myself to the darkest part of my psyche, feeling only a warrior’s bloodlust, the darkness inside my core drinking in my pain and fear like it was a magical tonic. I’d feared this part of me for as long as I could remember, terrified I would lose myself to violence if it was released.

  Antoine snarled. “What is it, Cheetah? You want mercy?” He crouched and grabbed my crushed hand, squeezing it hard, forcing me to scream. He laughed at my agony. “Beg for it. Beg for mercy. Beg for a fast death.” He bit down savagely on the inside of my elbow and drank, viciously squeezing my shattered hand.

  But despite my groans and sobs, my inner darkness was smiling as I called upon my rage to pull as much of the ley line magic into my center as I could bear to hold. He was so close I could smell his rotten stench, bringing up the vision of him beating and draining my friend, Carly. The fae blade hummed and melded with my magic, becoming an extension of my dark desires. Together we pulsed with power as my healer stepped aside and my warrior took complete control.

  “Antoine,” I sobbed again for effect. He laughed between the gulps, getting off on every moment of my pain. My heated rage spread its fire into the blade, the warrior I’d hidden from for years commanding the weapon to do my will and kill him. I leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “For Carly.”

  I swung the knife up between us, stabbing him low in the stomach. He released my arm and roared with pain as I twisted the blade and viciously ripped a gash from belly to sternum. The magical weapon had burned a trail through his body, his organs bleeding, his skin blackening.

  Dark blood gushed out of his jagged wound, covering us both. His silver eyes rose to meet mine, widening slightly in surprise.

  “Your eyes, Cheetah ...” he croaked.

  The bright orange glow reflected in his silver gaze startled me, but his expression held no fear, only a brief flash of an emotion that struck at me hard. Antoine must have seen my own surprise, because he sneered at me a moment before I gathered my strength, willed the blade to lengthen and sliced through his thickly tattooed neck with one smooth stroke. His head dropped and rolled several feet before turning to dust.

  His body collapsed on top of mine. I groaned and cried out from the burning heat of his skin and the weight putting pressure on my injuries. A moment later the fire was out and he was only a powdery ash disappearing with the steady wind off the sea.

  “Jacqueline Crawford is declared the winner,” rang out Lord Kennet’s voice. Most of the audience cheered, but I didn’t have the strength to even smile. I lay there in pain, covered in blood, yet proud that I’d destroyed Antoine and given Garrett the chance to take down Eleanor.

  But I could no longer hide from the darkness inside myself that I’d loosed against this monster. For now, I clung to that black warrior with all my strength, because when it was gone, I’d have to face my healer self again.

  Thinking back to Antoine’s last moments, I’d recognized relief in his eyes. He’d yearned for death in the end, a release from the life he’d led. Even a monster like Antoine had once been human. What was he before Eleanor, an even crueler monster, had turned him? I shuddered and locked away those thoughts, only dredging up the strength to close my eyes.

  I was lifted by unfamiliar arms and taken into the tent. Garrett was there along with Francois, who’d been the one to carry me and lay me on the couch. He examined my shattered hand, turning it carefully to see the damage. I whimpered and Garrett tried to soothe me with sweet words and gentle kisses. Francois turned to him and spoke in French then translated for me. “You must accept my blood. Garrett cannot give you his before he meets Eleanor.”

  “I can heal myself, at least I think I can.” I tried t
o pull my hand away, but the pain was too much and I cried out.

  Garrett pleaded. “Please, Jackie. You’re exhausted. Francois’ blood will heal you quickly. Then I won’t be worrying about you while I’m fighting her.”

  “I’m sorry. Of course it’s okay. I’m an … an idiot.” I managed to gasp out.

  “You are the most brave, beautiful, perfect female.” He kissed me again, this time with passion.

  Francois was smiling. “I hate to interrupt, but Kennet is going to call you into the ring in exactly three minutes and you have to ready yourself.”

  “Go, Garrett. I love you.”

  “Je t’aime.” He disappeared through the tent flap just as Lord Kennet announced that he and Eleanor should bring their weapons into the ring in two minutes for his approval.

  Francois sat quietly, holding my hand in his. A few stray tears trickled down my cheek from the pain and the tension. “Will you drink my blood to heal properly? I promise I will not bite you back.” He smiled, but all I could manage was a shallow nod. He bit into his wrist and held it to my mouth. I steadied it there with my uninjured hand and began to drink, noticing his blood tasted slightly sweeter than Garrett’s.

  He watched me carefully, measuring exactly when I’d had enough. With the first few swallows, my shoulder, elbow, thigh, and hand stopped bleeding, the jagged cuts closing up quickly. The pain from my cracked rib lessened as well. He took away his wrist and licked it clean. Garrett’s was high octane, but Francois’ blood was like rocket fuel. When I tried to stand, he put a hand out to stop me.

  “Not yet. Another minute. May I prevent scarring by licking your wounds?” I nodded and watched as he bent down to lick the top of my thigh, my shoulder and very carefully, the inside of my left elbow. My hand had improved, but was not completely back to normal, so he suggested, “If you shift your hand to your animal form, it will heal faster.” I pulled on the lines and shifted both hands, not sure I could do just the one. Francois was still holding the left one and seemed completely enthralled by my fur, claws, and markings. He stroked it gently.

  “Of course, you are a cheetah. Charmant! Has your hand healed sufficiently?”

  “Yes, Francois, thank you.” I smiled at him with gratitude as I transitioned my hands back to human, pleased to see that I could wiggle my fingers and form a fist with only a little stiffness. I kept glancing at the entrance to the tent, wondering what was happening.

  “Garrett has a few more minutes. I must see to your lip. We don’t want anything to mar your lovely face.” He kept his eyes on mine as he placed his finger in his mouth to wet it, then rubbed it slowly on my healing lip. He sucked off the blood, then smiled his very sexy smile. “You are quite delicious.” He winked. “Come, Madame Cuvier. Garrett will need to see you before the duel.”

  “Thank you, Francois.” I’d managed to hold in my laughter at his unashamed flirting, but wasn’t quite as successful at hiding the smile. After quickly replacing Liam’s knife in the sheath on my belt, I took Francois’ proffered arm and we left the tent together.

 

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