by Kate Baxter
He pushed his way through the crowd, past the battle master, and into the arena. It didn’t matter that there were already two competitors inside. He’d kill them both. The crowd went wild until the sound of their eager shouts drowned out the last remaining shreds of Ewan’s conscious mind. The battle rage took hold completely and he went to that dark place where nothing mattered. He didn’t exist. His body moved without instruction from his conscious mind. There was nothing but empty black.
Freedom.
He came to with a spluttering gasp. His arms flailed, fists flying out to fight an invisible foe.
“Ewan!” He latched onto the sound of Drew’s voice and let it pull him toward lucidity. “You’re okay. It’s over. There’s no one left to fight.”
No one? Jesus. From the way Drew made it sound, he’d killed off half of the gods-damned city. His head pounded like someone had driven a railroad spike through his brain. Another indicator of how completely he’d given himself over to the battle rage. He imagined it was the supernatural equivalent of a hangover, only he hadn’t been afforded any of the fun to get to this place.
“What happened?” Ewan swallowed. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t have been out of it for more than a couple of hours, but his throat was dry enough to convince him he’d gone months without a sip of water.
“What happened is that you kicked serious fucking ass.” Drew’s wide grin caused Ewan’s stomach to curl into a knot. He must’ve put on one hell of a fucking show for his cousin to look so smug. Drew pulled a large roll of bills from the front pocket of his hoodie and handed it over to Ewan. “Ten grand.” He laughed. “I’ve never seen anything like it. You had the crowd so amped they were practically throwing their money at you.”
Great. Like that wasn’t bound to draw a hell of a lot of unnecessary attention. There was no way Gregor wouldn’t find out about this. Ewan was fucked. “Go home, Drew. Right now. Don’t wait for me. If Gregor asks where I am, tell him you have no idea and haven’t seen me since this morning. Got it?”
Drew gave a determined shake of his head. “No way. I’m not hanging you out to dry.”
“That’s exactly what you’re going to do.” From the beginning, he’d planned to take all the heat whether Drew wanted him to or not. “Do as I say. If he asks, you’re going to look him straight in the eye and lie like you’ve never lied before.”
“He’ll see right through it.”
“No, he won’t.” They’d been working on their story for months just in case something like this happened. It was difficult to lie to a supernatural creature, but not impossible. If you owned the lie, truly believed your own bullshit, it could be done. Drew could pull it off. “It’s too late for a change of heart now.” From the beginning, Drew had been reluctant to help Ewan find the underground fighting ring and set up the matches. But his cousin was well connected in the city and trusted by those in the know despite what he was. Ewan had practically pressured him into it and there was no way in hell he was going to let him be punished for it.
“We go back together, or not at all.”
Hardheadedness was a trait all berserkers shared. That stubborn streak got them into trouble more times than not. “I’m not going to argue with you, Drew. This is what we agreed on. This is the way it has to be.”
“He might not know. He’s so damned preoccupied with other things he might not be paying attention to any of the gossip. It could be days before he hears anything about what happened tonight.”
Wishful thinking. Ewan knew better. He’d obviously been in rare form tonight, burning off the anger and frustration from his fight with Sasha. Returning to the arena had been a mistake no matter how much cash it had brought in. He’d let her get under his skin and now he was going to pay the price for it.
“He’s going to know, and he’s going to be waiting for me. I can talk my way out of it but only if I’m not worried about covering your ass as well. Do us both a favor and stick to the plan.” It was going to cost him a chunk of change and an even bigger chunk of his pride, but he’d do what had to be done. “I’ve got this under control, but you need to trust me.”
Drew studied him for a quiet moment. “Never in a million years is he going to believe you’re working alone.”
It was true that berserkers behaved more like pack animals. They usually worked in small groups; even pairings were rare. Gregor would assume there were others involved and Ewan was prepared for that. He never did anything without a backup plan.
“Whether he believes it or not is immaterial. All I need is to distract him.”
Drew’s gaze narrowed. “From what?”
Ewan gave a shake of his head. Sometimes his cousin could be a little dense. “You. Me.” He threw his hand up and swirled around. “This.” He hated that he’d have to give up tonight’s winnings, but the one thing he knew Gregor would never turn away was money. Not when he needed so much of it to fund their cause.
“No. No way.” The light bulb finally clicked on inside Drew’s head. “It’s a fucking fortune. The biggest purse you’ve won yet. And you’re just gonna hand it over to him?”
“It’s good money, but hardly a fortune. And offering it up to Gregor is worth the sacrifice if it buys us some time.” Ewan wasn’t about to take his eyes off the prize. He wanted out. As far as possible from this centuries-old vendetta and Gregor’s ego-fueled power grab. Now wasn’t the time to lose focus. He could still pull this off. He just needed Drew to cooperate.
His cousin gave a sad shake of his head. “You deserve every penny of that money. You more than earned it.”
Ewan pulled five hundred-dollar bills from the role and slapped them into Drew’s hand. It was far less than what his cut should’ve been, but he was owed something for his trouble.
“I’m not taking this.” Drew held out his hand but Ewan refused to take the money. “If you’re handing your cut over, I’m handing mine over, too.”
Ewan hesitated but he could tell by the set of his cousin’s jaw that he wasn’t about to back down. He appreciated the solidarity and took the money back without another word of argument. “I’ll make it up to you.” When Ewan made a promise, he kept it.
“I know you will.” Drew’s lips quirked in a half smile.
Anxious energy skittered down Ewan’s spine. It had been one hell of a night, and it was far from over. “Go home.” The sooner Drew got back, the better. Besides, he needed a few moments alone to clear his head.
Drew gave a curt nod and turned to leave without another word. Berserkers were creatures of action. Once they agreed on a plan, they followed through. Always. At least for that, Ewan could be thankful. The gods knew he had little else to be grateful for.
He let out a slow breath as his thoughts inevitably circled back to Sasha. He let out a chuff of rueful laughter. Funny to think, Ian Gregor was the least of his problems.
CHAPTER
9
“Ewan, Gregor wants to see you. Now.”
Ewan couldn’t say he was surprised to find an escort waiting at the door to take him straight to their fearless leader. No doubt it had been orchestrated as a sort of ambush. Gregor’s favorite tactic. Unfortunately for him, Ewan was more than prepared for an attack. Sort of tough to get the upper hand on one of your own when they already knew the playbook.
Gavin stared Ewan down as though anticipating defiance and since Ewan loved to disappoint people, he headed straight toward Gregor’s apartment without so much as a grunt in response. He kept his posture relaxed, his breathing even, and his heartbeat slow. Ewan knew exactly what to do to make his body cooperate. He’d spent years training his physical reactions to obey his conscious thoughts. Ewan wouldn’t be betrayed by quickened breath, dilated pupils, tense muscles, or anything else. For all intents and purposes, Gregor would find him calm and amicable. Completely trustworthy.
He stopped in the hallway at Gregor’s door. The abandoned apartment building wasn’t fit for rodents, but Gregor insisted th
ey live here. Ewan’s lip curled with disgust. He hated it here. Hated the disrepair. The smell. The lack of electricity or running water. He hated living like a fucking animal and foregoing even the smallest comfort for the supposed greater good. Gregor expected sacrifice and complete loyalty without offering a gods-damned thing in return. The bitter tang of resentment burned Ewan’s tongue and he swallowed against the sensation that formed a tight knot in his throat. His eyes drifted shut for the barest moment as he drew in a deep and even breath, held it in his lungs, and released it just as slowly. Calm settled over him as the anger ebbed from his body.
“Get in here.”
Ewan didn’t even have to knock. Gregor was shrewd, his senses keen. It was tough to get one over on the self-proclaimed berserker king but Ewan was about to give it his best shot. He turned the knob on the door and stepped inside the dark and dingy run-down apartment. Gods, what a shithole. He still couldn’t believe Gregor found this existence preferable to working for the Sortiari.
Not even a candle illuminated the living room. Ewan was sure Gregor preferred it that way, as though the dark would somehow make him even more sinister than he already was. Instead, Ewan found it unnecessary and melodramatic. These sorts of theatrics might’ve worked on other supernatural creatures, but it was a waste of energy for him to use it on his own brethren.
“You’ve been a busy son of a bitch, haven’t you?”
This wasn’t the first time Ewan had been on the receiving end of that angry, abrasive tone. It didn’t faze him in the slightest. He shrugged, knowing full well that Gregor would see the casual gesture through the dark. “I wouldn’t say busy, so much as preoccupied.”
Gregor attacked in a smear of darkness, shoving Ewan so hard against the wall that the plaster cracked and the drywall gave way. Chunks of it landed in his hair and he gave a shake of his head to dislodge the debris, sending a cloud of grayish white dust around them. Anger pooled in his gut and threatened to overtake him. Ewan commanded his body to resist the pull of anger and focused his thoughts. An image came to mind of lush pink lips and he calmed.
“What the fuck makes you think you can speak to me in that way?” Gregor wrapped his fist in the neck of Ewan’s T-shirt as he leaned in close.
It was a rhetorical question not meant to be answered, simply a reminder that Gregor was—as he’d always been—someone not to be fucked with. As if Ewan, or anyone else for that matter, needed a reminder. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the roll of bills he’d earned tonight and held it aloft for Gregor’s inspection.
“What the hell is this?”
“For the cause.” It took every ounce of willpower Ewan had to keep the sneer from his tone. “I have been busy. Earning money for you.”
Gregor’s lip pulled back into a snarl. He gave Ewan a rough shake that rattled his jaw and embedded him deeper into the drywall. “You expect me to believe that shit?”
“Would I be giving you the money otherwise?”
Gregor laughed. “You might. If you’d been found out and were trying to save your own gods-damned neck.”
No one could say Ian Gregor was stupid. Ewan had known this was going to be a hard sell but a little skepticism and a couple of body slams weren’t going to deter him. “You were gone. It was stagnant as fuck around here. I needed to do something.” That much at least, was the truth. “You’re going to get down on me for being proactive?” It might’ve been stupid to poke the bear, but berserkers were aggressive by nature. It would be more suspicious if Ewan didn’t try to pick a fight.
“I’m going to get down on you for going behind my back!” Gregor railed. “And…” He tightened his grip on Ewan’s shirt. His voice went low and dangerous and a flicker of fear shot through Ewan’s veins. “For keeping company with a gods-damned vampire. Who the fuck is she?” Gregor demanded with another rough shake. “And why isn’t she dead?”
Fuck. Ewan had been hopeful that little bit of gossip had yet to reach Gregor’s ears. He should have known better. A protective instinct rose within him at the mention of Sasha. Ewan didn’t want Gregor to know a gods-damned thing about her. She was a secret he wanted to keep all to himself. He could try to lie. Tell the crafty warlord king that the gossip was wrong. That whoever saw what they think they saw had been wrong. But lying would only insult Gregor’s intelligence. Ewan had known that if he was going to pull this off, his plan would have to be set on a foundation of truth.
Despite Sasha’s confession that Ewan had somehow tethered her, he didn’t owe her anything, least of all his protection. She’d bitten him. Without his permission. Taken his blood as though it was something due her. The offense was still fresh in his mind. Still stung his pride and tarnished every belief that had been ingrained in him. Ewan had to look out for himself because no one else would. He had to look out for Drew because he’d given his cousin his word. He’d made no vows to Sasha. His throat tightened as though resisting the words he was about to speak. Resisting the betrayal. There was no help for it. Ewan had no choice.
He knew what he had to do.
“The vampire thinks I’m her mate.” The truth burned his tongue as though to punish him with it. “She said…” He let out a breath. “Nothing that made any sense.”
Gregor loosened his hold on Ewan’s collar and he braced himself for the blow that was sure to come. Instead, Gregor threw his head back and his robust laughter filled Ewan’s ears.
“Aristov must be breeding madness in his fledgling flock. Her mate?” His incredulous tone caused Ewan’s hackles to rise. “It’s impossible!”
He didn’t know why Gregor’s words got on his nerves so much. Hadn’t he thought the exact same thing when the affirmation left Sasha’s lips? A mate bond between a vampire and berserker wasn’t simply unheard of, it went against everything they knew about themselves. But Gregor couldn’t believe it simply for those reasons. Believing would undermine the very foundation of a centuries-long vendetta and the revenge he so desperately craved.
“What did you say to her when she told you this nonsense?” Gregor asked between bouts of laughter.
Perhaps it was Gregor who was mad and not the vampires. He sure as hell didn’t seem to have his shit together. Ewan had come here expecting to receive a sound beating. He didn’t like shifting gears, but here he was, foot to the pedal. “I told her to get the hell out of my sight.” Honesty was the best policy, but there were some things even Ian Gregor didn’t need to know. The last detail Ewan planned to divulge to anyone was that she’d bitten him. He still hadn’t taken the time to fully process what had happened himself.
“And she obeyed?”
Honestly, Ewan was just as surprised about that as Gregor was. “She did. I told you, she thinks there’s a bond between us. Her certainty is unflappable.”
“I can use this,” Gregor said more to himself than to Ewan. A tremor of anxiety rippled through him. “And you, Ewan Brún, are going to help me.”
Ewan’s situation had definitely just gone from bad to worse. The last thing he needed was to have Gregor’s undivided attention. And thanks to Sasha, he was going to get it.
* * *
“Sasha, I’d like you to meet Lucas.”
Gods, why had she agreed to this? Sasha extended her hand. Lucas took it in his and gave it a firm shake that nearly pulled her elbow free of her arm. The male was huge.
“Nice to meet you.”
She smiled at Lucas and then at Bria before stepping aside to invite them inside the house. Shortly after Sasha had been turned, Bria—Jenner’s mate and a sort of vampire community outreach representative—had come to the house to check up on things. Saeed had left on his quest for his mate and put the coven in Sasha’s and Diego’s care. The vampire king hadn’t been thrilled about Saeed jumping ship and had sent Bria to do a “new vampire” welfare check. Bria had sensed Sasha’s loneliness and despair, and had offered to introduce her to her friend Lucas so that the two might keep each other company. That had been before Sa
sha had decided she’d had enough of her mopey existence and had gone out to do something about it. Now, she was stuck in what she could only assume was a blind date. Awesome. Like this wasn’t bound to be awkward as fuck.
Lucas stepped inside and gave her a sheepish smile. Despite his size and imposing appearance, Sasha could tell that Lucas was gentle and kind. Eyes didn’t lie and his soft blue gaze hid nothing. There was an innocence to Lucas that softened Sasha’s heart. She didn’t even have to know him well to sense it. It surrounded him like an aura.
Sasha led the way to the media room at the south end of the house. Diego had left a half hour ago, and Saeed and his mate had left for Mikhail Aristov’s house at sundown. The other members of their coven were either gone for the night or occupied elsewhere, which was fine by Sasha. The last thing she needed was a bunch of curious dhampirs nosing in on her business to report back to Saeed.
“So, how’s it going?”
If anyone other than Bria had asked, Sasha would’ve responded that she should mind her own damned business. But Bria was as kind and sincere as they came. She didn’t have a fake or malicious bone in her body. And Sasha knew anything she told her would go straight to the vault. She wondered if the same went for Lucas? The gods knew Sasha could use a few more allies.
“Oh, it’s going.” She flopped down on the sectional and motioned for Bria and Lucas to join her. “Same old, same old.”
Bria studied Sasha for a quiet moment. A wry grin spread on her lips. “You’ve definitely loosened up since the last time I was here, so some things must be going all right.”
The beauty of being an emotional bottler was the ability to pretend that your life was sunshine and rainbows even when it was a complete shit show. Sasha’s new carefree, don’t-give-a-fuck lifestyle had little to do with being happy. More to the point it only served to prove she had wicked self-destructive tendencies.