by Sophie Oak
handy.
In his mind, Beck numbered them One through Fifteen. Eight had
tumbled straight into Two across the ring the vampires had formed.
Both were struggling to get to their feet. It gave Beck a chance to
concentrate on the next assault. It would come from Twelve and Five.
Beck thrust out with his sword, catching Twelve in the belly as he
kicked out in perfect precision, shoving Five back. He twisted his
body slightly to take out Ten and Three in the same fashion.
Instinct took over as his sword bloodied. He no longer thought
about Meg or Dante or even Cian. He and the sword moved in perfect
precision. The blade became a simple extension of his being. Beck
relaxed, letting his hearing confirm the order in which his brain told
him they would attack. He danced as they attacked, his sword finding
purchase in their strong bodies. Every time he sank the steel into
another body, his hunger grew. He wanted to kill. The horn blared,
calling an end to this round of fighting. It was an intrusive sound.
Beck breathed deeply, fighting the instinct to attack the little
gnomes as they ran onto the field to pull off the injured competitors
who called for quarter. He wanted to skewer the little ones. They
would look good on his blade, the dark voice in his head whispered. It was their fault. They had walked onto his killing field. They should expect death. They were dragging off his prey before he even had a
chance to finish them. It was his right. He turned to raise his sword
and stop the interlopers when Meg’s face stopped him. She looked
over the railing at the bottom of the arena. She must have convinced
Dante and Rhys to allow her to move closer. Her face was worried.
She was worried for him. She shouldn’t be worried for him. She
should be scared of him.
Beck was shaking with rage as he stopped himself. Meg would
never come to him if she saw what an animal he could be. He couldn’t
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allow that to happen. He swallowed as the horn blared, and the battle
began anew.
The remaining vampires didn’t wait this time. All eight rushed
him immediately. Beck was knocked back by the unexpected charge.
Though his back hit the sand, a fierce joy took over. He did love a
good fight. Up until now, the battle had been rote. Now, he was
thrown a bit off balance.
A big vamp, with fangs and claws out, leapt on top of him. Beck
grimaced as he felt the sharp claws sink into his left shoulder. He felt
the blood start to flow and knew it would make the vamps a little
crazy. He’d feared chaos, and now he was going to get it. Shoving his
foot upwards, Beck launched the vamp up and over as he brought his
sword up just in time to skewer the next vampire who jumped on him.
Gravity pulled the vamp down, and Beck noticed his aim had been
perfect. As the vampire sunk onto the sword, the iron of the ancient
weapon tore through his heart, one of two sure ways to kill a vampire.
The race was tough as nails but vulnerable when it came to their
hearts. Even a minor injury to the heart usually killed a vampire. The
only other sure way was decapitation. Beck rolled away as fast as he
could, knowing what would come next. Vampires didn’t die quietly.
They sort of exploded.
The rest of the vamps took a quick step back as their fallen
compatriot came apart. Beck narrowly managed to avoid being
covered in gore, but his senses filled with the smell and scent of
blood. It did nothing to calm his inner beast. Everything inside Beck
gloried in the death of his opponent. The female was his. They were
attempting to take what was rightfully his.
Beck moved out of the way of the next assault. Two vampires
threw themselves down, one catching Beck while he was still blinded
by the bits of dead vamp covering his eyes. Beck roared as he felt the
vampire sink his fangs into the vulnerable flesh between his neck and
shoulder. Luckily, he had squirmed enough so the bastard hadn’t
gotten his jugular.
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He heard, no, felt, Meggie’s scream. It spurred him to action. He
took a single, strong punch to his face from a second attacking vamp.
He saw several more stepping forward to take a shot, too. The vamp
on his neck was trying to get a better angle. Beck reached up and
pulled him off his back, tossing him into the vampires attacking his
front. The place where the vamp’s fangs had sunken in ached, and
Beck knew the vamp had gotten away with a hunk of his flesh.
It didn’t matter. He healed quickly.
He moved even faster. He skewered the vamp who had taken a
chunk out of him, and his aim was perfect. The vamp exploded, even
as he pulled his sword out and moved on to the next.
The blood and gore was having an effect on the vamps as well.
Two of the vampires had turned on each other. Out of the corner of
Beck’s eye, he watched as they screamed, fangs and claws out. The
pair attacked each other viciously. They sunk their claws into each
other’s bellies, and the high-pitched sound of their pain hurt Beck’s
ears. The two quickly dropped to the ground. They rolled in the sand,
each desperate to gut the other. Vampires, for all their claims to
civilization, were just as feral as the rest.
There were only six left, and two were doing their damndest to
kill each other. A fierce joy raced through him as he brought the hilt
of his sword down on a vamp he had tripped as he attempted to run
away. Silly creature. There was nowhere to run. He raised his sword to bring it down on the vamp’s throat. He was swinging it in an arc
toward the unconscious rival’s body when he was tackled from the
side. Beck roared as he toppled over.
“Quarter!” the vampire yelled as he scrambled to get his knife
properly in his hand. “He is out, Beck. You can’t kill a man who’s
already gone down.”
It was the same vampire who had drawn Dante’s ire. He was
covered in sweat and blood. His hood had fallen back, and his pale
skin was already burning. “Give it a rest, Beck. It’s over. The female
is yours. We give.”
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Beck didn’t really hear him. He simply knew he was on his back
in a submissive position, and that would never do. With a single hand,
he tossed the vampire away like he was a child’s toy. Somewhere in
the back of his rage-addled head, he recognized that the gnomes had
taken to the floor. They were trying to help out the injured
combatants. It no longer mattered. His rage required blood.
“He’s gone insane!” Palgrave shouted, trying to get the referee’s
attention. “You have to put him down.” The vampire backed up as
Beck growled low in his throat and began to stalk him. He tossed
down his knife and showed Beck his empty hands. He had retracted
his claws, but the fangs remained. “I concede, Beck. We all concede.”
A horn blared. It seemed a distant, meaningless thing. There were
still twitching bodies, so Beck knew his work couldn’t possibly be
The vamp was backed against the arena wall. He tried to shrink back
as though he could force the stone walls to pull him in.
“I am asking for mercy, Your Highness.” There was a hitch in the
vampire’s voice. He pulled away as though trying to disappear into
himself.
Beck could smell the fear on him. It was good. He raised his
sword as the crowd began to scream, but it was a single voice that
stayed his hand.
“He asked for mercy, Beck,” a soft feminine voice said. “There is
no reason to kill him.”
Beck turned on his heels. He sensed the vamp take the opportunity
to run. He was too shocked by Meg’s presence to do anything about
it. Dante stood at her side. Beck chose to turn his rage on his cousin.
“Get her out of here. How dare you allow her on the battlefield!”
Dante had the good sense to back up, but Meg held her ground.
“The battle is done, cos. It’s time for you to come down now.”
“Not until I’m finished,” Beck promised. His voice was rough
with anger. His jealousy was taking over. What had his cousin been
doing all this time he was sitting beside his woman? Had Dante been
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courting her? “You should never have walked out here. Are you
challenging me?”
Dante’s eyes got wide, but Meg moved between them. “Beck,
Dante is not challenging you. No one is challenging you anymore.
They’re all running away. You scared the crap out of them.”
Beck bared his teeth as he realized she was correct. They were
running. He took a step and made to follow when her soft hand found
the middle of his chest. She didn’t seem to notice he was covered in
blood.
“Meg, he’s too far gone,” Dante said. “You’ll have to…”
“I heard you in the stands, Dante.” Meg placed her other hand on
his chest and stood very close. He could smell her. She smelled sweet,
nothing like death. Meg smelled of flowers and some womanly scent
he couldn’t name. She smelled of life. “Beck, I’m yours. Are you
going to leave me alone to chase after the others? Shouldn’t you take
care of me?”
“Not going to work, sweetheart.” Dante continued to back up.
“Meg, if you can’t handle it, then I need for you to run. Run to the
stands. I’ll distract him.”
“Shut up,” Beck yelled at the vampire. His jealousy was a roiling
pain in his gut. “You don’t talk to my mate.”
Meg huffed at the vampire. “Fine, but you better be right. If I find
out this was a stupid joke, I’ll stake you myself.” Beck was trying to
move her out of the way. She threw her arms around him and went on
her tiptoes to press her mouth against his. “Please, Your Highness, I
am yours. You have to take care of me.”
Beck’s sword fell to the side as another type of need blazed
through his body.
* * * *
Meg took a deep breath and prayed that damn vampire was right.
She pressed her body against Beck’s. Finally, she had his full
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attention. Her hands were shaking as she thought about what she was
about to do.
Dante had been very concerned when the first vampire was killed.
He’d explained to her that Beck’s control of his temper was a delicate
thing. He was the warrior half of unbonded symbiotic twins. He
needed his brother to balance him, but without a bondmate, his rage
had begun to run unchecked. Dante had explained that if Beck went
berserk, he would have to be killed.
Meg didn’t want Beck killed. On the practical side, if Beck was
killed, she wouldn’t simply be freed. She would go to the last
competitor standing and in his right mind, and that would be a
vampire. As much as she thought Dante was a hoot, the thought of
being claimed by a vampire left her cold. They were too calculating
for her tastes.
The only way to save Beck was to turn his rage into something
else. Dante explained that he might calm down eventually, but not
until he’d killed the vampires and possibly the gnomes who would try
to stop him. If they had a shot at salvaging the day, Meg was going
have to take one for the team.
It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t be doing it anyway, Dante had
explained as he’d leapt over the railing. He’d turned and helped her
down before explaining that Beck would be required to prove he
could sexually handle a mate.
If there had been even a second of time, Meg would have taken
extreme issue with that, but Beck had been bearing down on a
vampire who looked like he was about to pee his pants. She had run
the distance between them, her bare feet sinking in the sand. She
should have been terrified. He was a brutal fighter, and yet she knew
he would never hurt her. Why she trusted this man she had no idea,
but she did.
She pressed herself up. He towered over her. His gray eyes had
been filled with rage. Now they gleamed down on her, a mixture of
the rage he was fighting and something else entirely.
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“You shouldn’t have come out here.” He growled as he took her
face between his hands. He shifted them slightly until they tangled in
her long hair. He looked righteously masculine, and Meg felt her heart
speed up.
It took her a moment to form the words. “I had to come.”
He was so close. His neck and shoulder were injured, the wounds
seeping blood. She should be disgusted by him, but she knew she was
seeing a piece of him that was important. He was a warrior, and not
the kind who dropped a bomb from above or pushed a button from
miles away. He fought in close quarters. His life was always on the
line. He was a knight, and she suddenly felt like his lady. He had been
intent on destruction, but she had stayed his hand. It was a heady
feeling.
His mouth latched on to hers. The world fell away. Somewhere in
the back of her mind, she knew that others watched them. She could
even hear the announcer call the battle in favor of Beck. The crowd
cheered, and then she heard something about a public display of
sexual compatibility, but his tongue was sweeping inside her mouth.
He held her head where he wanted it, and she was deliciously
powerless against his assault. Meg felt her skin tingle everywhere it
met his. He hauled her tightly against his frame. She could feel his
desire. His erection pressed long and thick against her belly. His body
moved against hers, and Meg found herself rubbing helplessly against
him.
Meg opened her mind to the experience. It seemed like the right
thing to do. Even as his body prodded hers, she felt his mind playing
at the edges of her consciousness. It was almost as if there were gates
to her mind, and like the marauder he was, Beck wanted in. Meg let
them fall away and was suddenly overwhelmed.
She felt Beck’s insanity seeking a place to go. Rage poured into
&nbs
p; her brain. For a second, she was suffused with it, but instinct took
over. It was odd. She could push it out of her own mind. It was almost
as though she was a filter for him. The rage swept over her. It was so
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powerful that she was shocked Beck hadn’t killed everyone. He
kissed her as his rage moved from his mind into hers, and then like a
faucet that had been turned from cold to hot, it was replaced with
desire. It raced through her body like a wildfire, and this time, she
didn’t try to filter it. She wanted this feeling. It was completely
different than anything she had experienced before. This wasn’t the
sweet, slow arousal she normally experienced that typically led to
nowhere. This was a blazing aggression that she knew would end with
a dominant, overwhelming pleasure. This need would not be denied.
Meg sighed and gave over to Beck when she realized that what
she was feeling was his arousal. He wanted her, needed her. It was a
desperate thing. He was starving for her, and everything female in her
needed to feed him.
Meg tightened her arms around him, reveling in the hard feel of
his muscles. His hand slipped inside the gossamer bodice of her robe
and closed over her breast. His thumb brushed the nipple. She cried
out against his mouth. He was hot to the touch.
“You feel so good.” Beck’s voice was a low growl, and there was
an almost drugged quality to it.
Meg’s hands went to the front of her robe. She felt how much it
would please him to see her. He wanted to look at her breasts and see
her pussy. He wanted to lay her bare and fuck her until she couldn’t
remember a time he wasn’t inside her. She couldn’t hear his words,
but she filled in the intent. Meg started to pull off her robe, but his
hand came out and stopped her. His face was filled with a savage
possessiveness. Meg felt the fine edge of madness was still present,
still trying to take over.
“No,” he bit out, the word grinding between his teeth. “That is
mine. It is not for their eyes. On your knees, bondmate. They need a
show before I can claim you, but they will not see you.”
He pushed her down by her shoulders. Her knees hit the sand,
sinking in slightly. Meg felt like the entire episode was a hazy, utterly