Vital Found (The Evelyn Maynard Trilogy Book 2)

by Kaydence Snow

  I nodded. I’d seen similar items before. Even though science didn’t truly understand the Light or how it worked, we’d figured out how to detect its distinct energetic signature.

  “What happens if someone in the crowd uses an ability?” I asked. “Won’t that set it off?”

  “Nah.” She shrugged. “The sensors are placed around the top of the cage, and they point in. It’s rudimentary but it works.”

  I didn’t have a chance to ask any more questions; the fight was underway. A loud clanging bell was the only indicator it had begun—no presenter to get the crowd going, no introductions of the fighters.

  The two people in the cage circled each other, and then the man lunged, throwing punches at the woman’s head and torso. She shielded herself, then went from defensive to offensive in a heartbeat. She pummeled the man, giving as good as she’d got. Even from as far away as we were, the look on her face was visibly feral, blood already trickling from the corner of her mouth.

  When she landed a particularly savage blow with her elbow to the side of his head, many people in the room gasped, me included, but more cheered, their bloodlust only intensifying the more violent the spectacle became. The woman pushed the man into a corner. He had his arms up, trying to find a way to push out.

  The man’s guttural growl of frustration could be heard even over the music; the woman wasn’t easing up. Was I about to see a man die?

  In the next instant, though, the woman sprang back, clutching her middle. She was facing the other side of the room, so I couldn’t see her face, but I did see the light on top of the cage flick on.

  The man remained slumped against the corner of the cage, but his hands were no longer hands—they were claws, something between bear and human. The woman turned toward the opening in the fence, where three bouncers were letting themselves in. She dropped her hands to reveal four jagged, parallel gashes oozing blood on her abdomen. Her hands and forearms glistened red, and she swayed as she exited the ring with the assistance of one of the bouncers, trailing blood behind her.

  Her cuts were fresh, but I could guess what they would look like when healed. Alec had the same ones around his side. I could remember their texture from that night in Tyler’s study. Right before he told me he hated me. Right before we . . .

  “That was disgusting,” Dot announced from my other side. I glanced behind us. Kyo, Marcus, and Jamie were standing close by, keeping a watch on us and the room.

  “I told you not to watch.” Kyo smirked at her.

  “Yeah, I wish I hadn’t. I need a drink.” Dot’s face held pure disgust. In contrast, Zara looked amused, even a little excited. Sadistic bitch.

  “That asshole always ends up scratching someone. Like a petulant kitten. I’ve never seen him win. Don’t know why he keeps fighting.” She started toward the bar.

  “Those didn’t look like kitten claws,” I grumbled, following her. If that was supposed to be the minor fight, I shuddered to think what kind of monster Alec would be pitted against. Or maybe Alec was the monster in this scenario . . .

  Jamie stayed close to my side, while Kyo placed a gentle hand on Dot’s lower back, guiding her forward. Marcus was glued to Zara. I guess they’d each assigned themselves one of us.

  I needed a drink too. Alec wouldn’t be happy to see me, and his shit would be easier to deal with if I had a little liquid courage.

  “What do you want?” Kyo asked Dot, his hand still lingering on her back even though we’d reached the bar.

  She arched a perfect brow. “You’re allowed to drink while on duty?”

  “Keep your voice down.” Kyo leaned into her but made it look casual—as if he was flirting. Maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth. “We’re all just here to have some fun, have a few drinks.”

  He gave us all pointed looks. Clearly authority figures were not welcome here. Having a drink at the bar would help us blend in.

  Dot looked worried for a split second, her eyes flying about the room, but she plastered a smile on her face. “Something refreshing to cleanse the foul taste that left in my mouth. Maybe a mojito?”

  Zara and the guys all laughed. I wasn’t in on the joke. I wasn’t in on anything tonight. I crossed my arms, not feeling very jovial.

  “Mojito. Oh, you crack me up.” Zara wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “They don’t do cocktails, princess.”

  Dot gave her the middle finger. “Fine, then what do they do?”

  “The core four and maybe vodka and OJ?”

  “The core four?”

  Zara counted off on her fingers. “Jim, Jack, Johnny, and Jose.”

  “Jose! I’ll have tequila,” I piped in loudly, and they all turned to me. “What? Might as well embrace the ambience.”

  Marcus ordered six shots of the amber liquid, and we slammed them back without salt or lemon.

  Dot and Kyo started a private conversation, leaning into each other as if they were on a date, while I scanned the crowd for any of my guys.

  Two women sauntered up to the bar next to us, chatting as they waited to order.

  “Oh, by the way”—one of them raised her voice—“I heard that Gabe is here.”

  “Really?” The other one perked up.

  “Yep. Apparently Ace is fighting tonight. Didn’t the two of you have a thing a while back?”

  I tuned in more closely to the conversation, making sure my gaze stayed trained on the crowd.

  “Yeah, kind of. I only slept with him a few times, but god, it was hands down the best sex I ever had.”

  The two snickered, and I chanced a glance. They looked as if they fit right in. They were both brunettes, but one had some blonde highlights, and they both were wearing dark, tight clothing—cool, edgy, and a bit rough around the edges.

  Zara noticed me looking and stepped closer, gripping my hand and asking me a silent question with her eyes. It was either “Are you OK?” or “Want me to punch her?” The options were equally likely.

  I gave her a tight smile and squeezed her hand, turning away from the chicks at the bar as they resumed their conversation.

  “Yeah, I remember. What was so good about it?”

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know the same thing. As much as hearing another woman talk about having sex with one of my Bonded Variants pissed me off, morbid curiosity had me glued to the spot.

  “I think it was his ability honestly,” the one with the highlights answered.

  “What do you mean?”

  Yes, what did she mean? It was painful for anyone to touch Alec. He had control over it most of the time, but if it was his ability this woman liked so much, what kind of kinky shit was he into?

  “Well, he kept asking me questions.” I frowned and nearly turned to look at them. “Do you like that? Does that feel good? That kind of thing. And while the dirty talk was hot, his ability meant he knew the answer every time and was able to . . . adjust accordingly. He knew exactly what I wanted, and he was more than happy to provide it. It was mind-blowing.” They giggled, and it dawned on me.

  They weren’t talking about Alec. They were talking about Tyler.

  My eyes widened. The extent of his ability always surprised me—how many and varied its applications were. This was just another one I hadn’t yet considered. Another one I may never get to experience for myself . . .

  The women were finally served, and their conversation came to an end. Dot appeared at my other side.

  “Something to look forward to?” She winked, proving she’d heard the entire thing too and hadn’t been as wrapped up in Kyo as I thought. They’d probably all heard.

  “Not likely.” I snorted, dropping Zara’s hand and crossing my arms.

  “Don’t you like him like that?” Zara asked.

  “Of course she does,” Dot answered for me.

  “I’m not the problem. I don’t think it’s what he wants.” I spoke so low I wasn’t sure if either of them heard, but Zara took a deep breath, and Dot’s little hand landed on m
y shoulder. I shook it off as gently as I could. Now wasn’t the time.

  “Can we just focus on one infuriating, impossible Variant at a time?” I said much louder, getting the boys’ attention too. “I’ve procrastinated enough. We need to find Alec. Maybe we should split up and—”

  “Nope.” Kyo’s voice was firm. “No splitting up.” I narrowed my eyes at him, but he kept talking before I could argue. “No need to. I know where they are.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “Because I’m still not convinced this is good idea. And you’re the one who demanded tequila, so . . .”

  “What? That’s not . . .” I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a second. “Whatever. Kyo, where is he?”

  He dropped the mischievous smirk. “He’ll be in one of the back rooms—it’s where the fighters wait until it’s time.”

  He pointed to the opposite side of the space, where a corridor led off the main area. As I took off in that direction, a firm hand fell on my shoulder.

  “I lead the way. Don’t let the shots and music fool you. This is a dangerous place, kitten.”

  I nodded, and he took Dot’s hand before heading down the stairs. Jamie appeared next to me, and Zara and Marcus followed behind. But as we made our way around the less-crowded middle level, the music lowered again, and the light on the cage brightened.

  Our group stopped dead.

  Alec was making his way to the cage. The other three were with him, but my focus was on the idiot in the front. He was wearing nothing but a navy-blue pair of shorts, every tattoo, scar, and ripped muscle on display, his face a hard, emotionless mask.

  Jamie cursed. Kyo ran one hand over the top of his head in agitation.

  “Shit.” I made for the nearest stairs, but both Kyo and Jamie blocked my path, their hands closing over my upper arms.

  “Get out of my way!” I was out of time. I needed to get down there immediately.

  “Lower your voice,” Jamie growled into my ear as I wriggled, trying fruitlessly to escape the grip of not one but two Melior Group agents.

  “Eve,” Zara said, “it’s too late.”

  “What? Let me go. They haven’t started yet. I can still stop him.” Panic gripped my chest. Alec was already in the cage, another man stepping in behind him.

  “No, you can’t.” Zara got in my face, blocking my view. “If you’d managed to convince him to pull out, then maybe this could have worked. But now that he’s already down there, now that they’ve seen him . . .”

  “Look around you.” Kyo’s grip on me loosened, his attention split between preventing me from doing something stupid and keeping an eye on Dot. She was hanging back, being way quieter than usual. “Listen to the crowd. If they don’t get what they came for, all hell will break loose.”

  All around, people shouted over each other and pressed closer to the barriers.

  “Thirty on the Master of Pain!” a guy with more piercings than I thought could fit on a single face yelled, and a bookie pushed through the crowd to take the bet. Similar exclamations echoed throughout the room. This round of bets was taking much longer than the first round. People were getting restless.

  A fight broke out next to Dot. She grabbed a pitcher of beer and dumped it over the two Neanderthals throwing punches, and Kyo finally released me to yank her away from them.

  I pushed past Zara and stood right up against the barrier, wrenching my other arm out of Jamie’s grip to clutch the steel bar with both hands. They were right. These people were gagging for this fight; I wouldn’t put it past them to kill me if I tried to stop it.

  Alec had his back to us, his arms loose by his sides, his head slightly tilted to the side. He looked almost bored. In complete contrast, his opponent was a bundle of movement, bouncing up and down on his toes and punching the air. The other fighter was a mountain, bigger even than Ethan, but where Ethan’s physique was toned and naturally large, this man was sinewy; he looked as if he had 0 percent body fat.

  The bookies were nearly done taking bets, and my heart jumped into my throat. My eyes darted around the room, desperately looking for another solution, but no bright ideas presented themselves.

  Then my eyes met calm gray ones.

  Busted.

  Tyler was gripping the chain-link as he leaned on it. When our eyes met, his widened for a beat, then narrowed, his lips pressing into a tight line. Ethan and Josh stood behind him, their postures screaming tension.

  I refused to feel awkward for getting caught. Instead, a surge of defiance straightened my spine, lifted my chin. How dare they keep this from me? And then get upset when I kept something from them? I tightened my grip on the railing and allowed every bit of indignation I had to enter my gaze. Tyler didn’t flinch, but he did break eye contact, turning to speak to the other two idiots.

  I focused on the cage. Alec still looked bored; his opponent was still posturing, bouncing around the edges of the cage, gesturing and shouting to the crowd. They were lapping it up.

  When I turned back to the spot where Tyler had been, it was empty. The next thing I knew, my hand was being removed from the barrier, and a male chest was completely blocking my view.

  The reprimand in Tyler’s beautiful gray eyes was even more intense up close, and it was tinged with something else—fear or maybe anger. I couldn’t be sure. I was too distracted by what he was wearing to try to decipher his facial expression.

  Tyler was in jeans and boots and a leather jacket. I’d seen him in a T-shirt maybe three times. Usually he was in perfectly tailored pants and collared shirts, his messy hair a constant contrast to his clean-cut look. The messy hair wasn’t a bit out of place now.

  “Get out of the way. I can’t see,” I ground out, twisting my wrist out of his grip. He released me, but big gentle hands landed on my shoulders, keeping me grounded to the spot. Ethan.

  His eyes still trained on me, Tyler spoke loudly enough to be heard by the rest of our group. “Kyo, take Dot and Zara home.”

  His tone was pure authority, but it didn’t escape my notice that he hadn’t explicitly stated it was an order.

  “Understood,” Kyo replied, and Jamie and Marcus began shuffling Dot and Zara toward the exit. Even Zara didn’t argue against Tyler’s firm demand, his rigid posture, his deceptively calm eyes.

  I was exactly where I wanted to be, but nothing was going right. And my anger and hurt at being lied to was not subsiding.

  Just as I opened my mouth, Tyler spoke again. “I have to speak to a man about a Lighthunter,” he declared in a quieter tone. He was still watching me with reproach, but he hadn’t touched me again since I’d wrenched out of his grip. “You two stay with her. First sign of anything even remotely out of the ordinary, get her out.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  They were here to contact the Lighthunter? Had I misread this whole thing completely? I thought Alec was against it. Why would he offer to jump into a cage fight so Tyler could make his enquiries? It was far more likely this was Alec being his asshole self and Tyler was just using the opportunity to do something productive.

  “You may not want to watch this.” Josh took Tyler’s spot in front of me, but he wasn’t blocking my view as much. He was giving me a choice. The fight had begun.

  I placed my hand on Josh’s chest, intending to push him farther out of the way, but what I saw had me bunching the fabric of his Tool T-shirt in my fist.

  Alec and the big show-off were throwing punches, and neither was holding back. Alec landed several blows to the other man’s face, causing blood to spurt from his mouth, but that left Alec’s torso unprotected, and his opponent took advantage of the opening. Large fists slammed into Alec’s ribs and stomach.

  The psychopathic crowd was loving it, yelling encouragement or taunts so loudly they drowned out the sound of flesh crushing flesh. It was the most violent thing I’d seen in my life, and I’d watched Tyler shoot a man dead right next to me.

&n
bsp; Bile rose in my throat, and the back of my eyes began to sting. Every blow that connected with Alec’s flesh had me cringing, yet I couldn’t look away. If I looked away, something even worse might happen. Ethan’s hands tightened on my shoulders, and I spared him a quick glance. He was watching the fight intently too, his body rigid.

  A tiny bit of relief washed over me when I looked back to see Alec had the upper hand. Somehow they’d ended up on the ground, a tangle of limbs, but Alec was on top, and he was pummeling the other man mercilessly. It was in that moment I realized Alec was lethal even without his ability. His control was impeccable, his mercy for his opponent nonexistent.

  Josh covered my fist with his hand and twisted slightly so he could see better. He was as tense as Ethan and me, even if he didn’t show it as much. His face was a mostly calm mask, but his grip on my hand was flexing and relaxing in an unsteady rhythm.

  A swell in the cheering had me whipping my head back to the cage. Alec was now the one getting the shit beat out of him. Somehow the beefcake had managed to get the fight back off the ground. He’d pinned Alec against the fencing and was raining down a stream of heavy blows.

  Sweat mingled with the blood dripping from the man’s nose and forehead. They were both getting tired. Yet neither one’s concentration had slipped enough to allow their ability to take over.

  “Why does he do this?” I gritted out between clenched teeth, not speaking to anyone in particular or expecting an answer.

  Ethan’s hands squeezed my shoulders again, and he stepped closer behind me, his heat pressing up at my back.

  “To prove he’s in control of his ability,” Josh answered, his eyes never leaving the horror below. “That he controls it and not the other way around. To prove he’s dangerous even without it. Those are the obvious reasons . . .”

  “Sometimes I think he does it because he likes the pain.” Ethan’s voice was strained, and the lump in my throat became impossible to ignore. He was watching someone who was more than a brother to him get beaten. They both were.