Reno

by Nini Church

  A sweep of his hand, bringing a hot, fiery wind that burned every last Vamp maggot to ash. A flip of his palm and the hot wind turned into an eddy, swirling tighter, faster, squeezing the vortex until there was a mini explosion. Vamp maggots were dead. Dead as dead can be.

  Reno didn’t notice his shit–kickers were splattered with black blood, he was too intent on furthering his mission. His little play session with the two Grunts didn’t even scratch the fucking surface of his rage.

  Violence – a healthy dose of it always soothed him – usually dialed his fucking rage down

  Several more dead Grunts later, Reno was gettin’ no satisfaction – and he needed that. Maybe he should shift gears and go lookin’ for a mean fight? Hell, yeah that might douse a few of his fires.

  The big Jinn ghosted to a well–known trouble spot – for a little violent action. Right inside Sylvain’s – the hottest club in Bellsville, catering to all races – he appeared beside a club bouncer, a huge Demon who outweighed Reno by at least a hundred pounds.

  Fists flexing and clenching, Reno wanted to go at him just because he might be a challenge – release a little of that cauldron of rage inside him.

  The Demon idly glanced down at the male’s huge fists and effortlessly shifted to the side – away from Reno. “You want trouble? You’ll get it here. Get lost.”

  “Get outta his fucking face, man.” Treigh’s frown was deep, heavily creasing his forehead, as he studied Reno intently. “Bro?” WTF? He waved the bouncer off with a flip of his palm. In a light tone against Reno’s obviously dark mood, Treigh said, “Hey, man, what the fuck you doing here? Usually, you’re outside banging ‘em against the wall.”

  Reno turned to Treigh and let go a hollow breath, his haunted blue eyes flashing around the club as he continued to clench his fists.

  Treigh didn’t wait and grabbed Reno’s arm, guiding him into the VIP section to a table in a dark corner. They sat and Treigh asked, “Shit happening I should know about?”

  “Always shit happenin’, Treigh, you know that. I’m just looking for some fun and it ain’t the banging ‘em against the wall outside kind. I’m looking for a fight, a kill – whatever I come across. True.”

  Treigh studied Reno for a while, noting his energies were swarming, re–grouping, and swarming again – almost as if Reno wasn’t quite in control. That never, ever happened when it came to Jericho’s Second–In–Command.

  He had worked along side Reno on quite a few missions, had stood side–by–side with him in battles and knew the warrior was a strong almost invincible fucker. And, Reno rarely had need for any kind of extra violence as his life was full of that kinda shit – all day, every day.

  Besides, Treigh realized with a little trepidation, First Blood’s never lost their shit. As in never. WTF was going on? “So, if that’s what you need, I can maybe help you with that.”

  “How? Kill? Or fight?”

  “Just fight, Amigo. For tonight, its just fighting.”

  “Now. Let’s roll.”

  “The Fight Club we’re goin’ to is a nasty, shit–ass place, bro. I want you to know that.”

  “Nastier the better.” Reno’s fist pounded the table and he rose to his feet.

  He and Treigh ghosted right there and then.

  Jericho was fucking mystified – and that didn’t happen often. Where the fuck was his Second–in–Command? “Obviously, he ain’t workin’ the streets. So, he’s gone underground. Let’s troll the area and see what intel we can gather.”

  Conn split off as Jericho and Zulu headed up the street. He walked past the bouncer at the door, daring him to stop him with a mean glare. Inside Sylvain’s, the place was hopping, strobe lights spinning and the smell of old beer and too much perfume lingered in the air. Pushing through the crowd, he stormed to the bar as three bouncers converged at his back.

  Conn looked like trouble and didn’t give a feck. He swung around, facing the three bouncers, two of them demons. Face twisted into a mean mask, Conn spit out, “I be seeking a tall fella, big, like, and mean as hell. Blonde, blue eyes. Wearing black.”

  One Demon nodded his head, recognizing Reno. “Was here not twenty minutes ago. He left with Treigh. Maybe it was him, maybe it wasn’t. And, you, fuck head, better not cause any trouble. You got what you wanted now get the fuck out.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

  Conn pumped his shoulders, fisted his hands into meaty clubs, and smirked as the three bouncers stepped back. It was an evil smirk – full of intent – telling that if Conn decided to have a go at all three – he’d be wiping the floor with them.

  Outside, Conn shared the intel with Cal and in seconds Zulu and Jericho slipped in beside him.

  “But we don’t fucking know where Treigh and Reno went? Hell! Fuck!” Jericho paced back and forth, his shit–kickers thundering in a wide arc.

  “Uh, Boss?” Cal waited for Jericho’s response.

  “What?!”

  “Since Treigh retired, he’s known to love fight clubs. The dirtier the better.”

  Jericho’s blue eyes flashed to purple and stayed that color. Fight clubs were forbidden, especially those where even the most basic rules didn’t apply and fights often ended in the death of one or the other opponent. Those kinda fight clubs were some of the most dangerous places in the world. “We find Reno now!”

  The club was dark, dingy and smelling of old, dried blood. It wasn’t really a club, but a vast room with only one murky yellow light hanging over a ratty fight platform with a small crowd around it.

  A thrill shot through Reno – here, he might find what he needed – to pour his fucking rage out on someone. Anyone – as long as it was a fairly matched fight. He wanted to kill – but wouldn’t – Jericho would really go after him if he did.

  Reno tore off his shirt and made directly for the platform. Treigh pulled on him, slowing him down. “Fuck off. You don’t wanna be fucking with me right now, Treigh.”

  Treigh didn’t let go. “Bro, there’s a line–up for tonight’s fights. You can’t just bust in…”

  Body torqued and adrenaline pumping, Reno easily shoved Treigh away. “Don’t give a fuck, man. Get outta my way. I ain’t here to fuckin’ watch.”

  Too many sets of curious eyes landed on them and Treigh realized he had to move fast. He signaled a couple of big males working over a table with the fight list for the night and they approached him. “Sorry about this, but my man here wants to jump in the ring. Now. Doesn’t wanna wait, you know.”

  Both males scanned Reno head to toe, nodding. Murray, the bigger of the two, said, “He’s what we’re always looking out for.” Murray goaded on purpose, “But, can he fight? No use to me if you can’t.”

  Reno nodded. Once. He wanted to plow the bastard in the face, take him down, but knew that wouldn’t get him into the ring or give him any real satisfaction nor stem the tide of rage.

  “Yeah, everybody says that. I’m here to tell you, you’ll get slaughtered out there if you don’t know how to fight.”

  Treigh glanced at Reno. “You in?”

  “Yup.”

  After a flurry of activity, Reno stepped into the ring, facing his opponent. The Demon was a huge motherfucker and that pleased Reno. Finally, a challenge.

  Impatiently, Reno dove right in, not waiting to size up his opponent or map any kind of a plan. He craved his fists pounding into flesh and thereby reducing his rage.

  That opponent never got past Round One.

  The next three made it a little farther.

  But, Reno was still itching for more, that burning caldron of rage inside not settling much.

  By his fourth opponent, Reno was losing all hope of finding an equal to beat the shit out of.

  Treigh did nothing, but pace back and forth beside the fight platform. He was waiting on Jericho who he’d notified the moment Reno entered the club. And, Treigh was real fucking clear on Jericho’s position about illegal fight clubs like the one he was standing in. He had worked with Jerich
o for years as part of his elite team before being forced to retire due to injuries. Yeah, he was in deep shit and he’d take the shit Jericho was gonna shovel his way and never say a word – Reno was his friend.

  Jericho didn’t ghost into the fight club beside the platform, but materialized near the back of the crowd. He eye–balled Reno dancing around and throwing some good solid punches, but also saw him holding back, not really going hard the way he liked. Or needed right now. “I want every fucker in this crowd mind–wiped,” he said stripping off excess clothing.

  Treigh knew Jericho had arrived – the King’s power was noticeable in the big room as a chorus of twitters shifted through the crowd. He hurried to find Jericho and when he spied him stripping down to his leathers and bare chested while leaving his shit–kickers on – relief washed over Treigh. The King was now in complete control.

  Jericho didn’t hesitate and made his way to the fighting platform where Reno was going too easy on another opponent. How many had he gone through already? He didn’t seem tired to Jericho. But, Reno would be when Jericho was done with him.

  It got bloody fast once Jericho let Reno know they were in a real fight, none of this dancing around shit and going easy on each other.

  Reno slung in with a couple of powerful punches that almost knocked Jericho senseless. It felt fucking good and Reno went in hard then, his fists flying everywhere and blood spraying around them.

  Jericho dug in, refusing to be a punching bag for Reno, and flipped him on his ass. He knew it would piss him off – spike Reno’s rage a little hotter – ‘cause they were really going to beat the shit out of each other. Here in front of a crowd that, hopefully, would remember none of it.

  Minutes later, the big room echoed with continual, unmistakeable sounds of fists on flesh and roars from the crowd when a particularly vicious blow landed. On and on it went, round after round, until it became obvious the two males were evenly matched. It torqued the crowd’s need for more blood and gore.

  Treigh and Jericho’s team moved through the crowd, casting a fog of forgetfulness around like candy. When done, they moved to one side of the fight platform and lined up against it.

  Reno began to slow, his movements neither smooth nor swift. Jericho was wearing him down and Reno appreciated the effort, but still wouldn’t stop the fight.

  Blood gushing inside his mouth, Jericho ground his teeth. “Renegade, my old friend, here’s the only true shit you’ll ever need to know.” Jericho laid a hard and fast jab to Reno’s face. “The. First.” Jab. “Rule.” Jab, jab. “Of Mating. Listen closely now, Reno.” Jab, whap, jab. “It ain’t about you, it’s about Aili. What she wants, how she wants it and fuck the why.” Jab, jab, jab. “You’ll probably forget it often just like I did. Stupidest move I ever made, Reno.”

  Reno only grunted and came at Jericho harder.

  “Get your shit, man, or I’m gonna take you down,” Jericho taunted.

  “Do. It. Only thing that’ll stop me…” Reno grunted when Jericho popped his shoulder and he swung his arm back, setting the bone back in place. Pain exploded, but it felt good.

  Frustrated, Jericho dropped his fists to his side and unclenched his fingers. Reno danced around him, taking irritating pokes, but Jericho didn’t move and said, “If this is what you need, man, I’m here. Beat on me.”

  “Don’t fucking tempt me. Don’t do it.” Reno went in with a hard thrust to Jericho’s jaw and found satisfaction when his head swivelled off to the side, throwing the Boss off balance.

  They might be equals in this fight, but Jericho had a fuck of a lot more stamina than he did. His arms weighed a ton and his shoulders were holding up the world. Once he admitted to himself that Jericho had won again and quenched his thirst for violence, Reno dropped his hands. “Done, man. We’re fuckin’ done.”

  “You tired?” Jericho goaded softly.

  “True.” Reno remained still, so weary he might just topple over. Thoughts of Aili and the damage done to her came at him again and he tasted revenge on his tongue and not any kind of revenge he could take out on Jericho or anybody else.

  Impossible, but he wanted Fate dead. Deader than dead.

  So, where the fuck did that leave him?

  Not at Aili’s side, but out fucking fighting and getting beat to shit in the process. Still, Reno admitted, his rage had dialed back and now all he wanted was Aili in his arms. He’d caused more trouble by going AWOL and leaving Aili to be tended by others.

  Jericho’s words lingered in his tormented mind and something inside him clicked. What Jericho had shared – The First Rule of Mating – made perfect fucking sense to Reno ‘cause it had the ring of truth. He had a sneaky suspicion as long as he followed that one rule with Aili – most shit would come up fucking roses.

  Yet, it shamed Reno, what he’d done, how quickly he’d given in to his rage and need for violence. Violence always toned him the fuck down so he could manage.

  With a sinking feeling, Reno knew how right Jericho really was with his First Rule of Mating – this wasn’t about him. It was about Aili and the fact that someone had harmed her – taken her right from under his nose – and then left her damaged. He raged inside – that Fate had only been banished.

  He had a hard–on for Fate and not in a good way. Reno wasn’t about to forget her anytime soon and was gonna own that revenge on her.

  What he could do – was wire his shit fuckin’ tight and keep it that way. Rad had also given him good advice. He needed to cage his inner turmoil, lock it down, ‘n get his shit. Keep his motherfuckin’ ass under control. He’d embarrassed himself by stupidly going after what he needed and not what Aili needed.

  No more.

  Aili first.

  Always.

  And, hopefully he wouldn’t forget that First Rule – as Jericho admitted doing.

  No more fuckin’ stupid moves for this Jinn.

  Chapter 18

  Early the next morning, Reno slid into bed beside a sleeping Aili. Beat to shit and no way to hide it, Reno was gonna admit to her what he’d done. As fucking odd as it was for him – it felt right to share his shit with her. Be honest about what he’d done, who he was.

  It didn’t take long for Aili to wake. She stretched and smiled, glad that her mind was clear. After Reno’s confession, Aili didn’t hide her shock that he was beaten so badly or his admission that he needed violence to dim his rage. It added another dimension to her mate that she’d had no idea about. Scary dimensions.

  He didn’t turn away from it – that was Reno’s truth – as ugly as it was. Too many battles, too much death had all driven him to seek out what he hated most – violence. Her soft hands roamed over his bruises and cuts, soothing him and yet he sensed her concern, but Aili wasn’t judging him or looking down on him.

  “It is what it is, Reno.”

  He didn’t quite get her meaning, but wasn’t willing to push as he wanted the whole stupid episode behind him. Although, Jericho was gonna come at him hard for going AWOL and he’d fucking pay the price for that – anytime, anywhere.

  Aili slipped out of the room to look for Thany who agreed to teach Aili a few tricks on bringing awareness of the here and now to the forefront of her mind and keeping it there until it became automatic. They spoke about the password, Strawberry, that Reno suggested and Thany smiled with delight. Such a simple and, hopefully, effective technique.

  Met took that opportunity to stride into the Sunroom, seeing her smile gave him hope that Bethany was in a good mood and maybe might not kick him too bad this time. Like a dog, he’d sit and take it for as long as she dished it out. He had no shame when it came to his Bethany. He wanted her even if she outright rejected him. Which she’d already done.

  Cheery and bright, the sunny room dimmed for Bethany when he entered.

  Aili looked away from Thany, trying not to notice the instant scowl she wore.

  Instead she turned, gracing Met with a big smile for which he was eternally grateful as it had to be obvious to
Bethany not everyone detested him as much as she did.

  Met bowed his head to Bethany and then Aili. “It’s good to see you’re feeling better.” It wasn't a lie, Aili’s color was good and there was a hint of sparkle in her chocolate eyes. “I’ve interrupted you so we can discuss The Star of Light,” he stared at the sparkling diamond dangling around her neck. A powerful gem that seemed to be having no effect on the Healer.

  “Is that what it’s called?” Aili cupped the diamond, running one finger up and down the intricate, thick chain.

  Met nodded and began to pace with his hands tucked behind him. “Aili, The Star of Light is a powerful, ancient treasure. Long ago, it disappeared and was assumed to be stolen. You need to be aware of it’s properties. What it can do.” When she nodded, he continued, “It is said that its powers are meant only for good, not evil, and anyone who tries to use it for nefarious purposes can be destroyed.

  “Strength and fortitude are needed as The Star of Light is said to replicate the bearer’s natural talents. Your healing abilities might be affected by you wearing it.

  “But, the greatest gift it offers is cloaking you, making you invisible, so you can go anywhere without being seen, sensed or heard. In fact, I believe, the gem already did just that. It cloaked you and that’s why we couldn’t find you the first time we went into the Fade. Legends tell it chooses who will own it. Tell me, do you feel any different wearing it?”

  “Sorry, no. It hasn’t affected me. Not that I know. I still trance into Nothingness and sometimes it feels as if parts of me are missing or are damaged. I’ve no real interest in using its properties or becoming invisible. I’m not the sneak around kinda lass, so you don’t have to worry about that. Hopefully, when I’m well again, I won’t have to wear it.”