by Kate Baxter
Ewan dropped his gym bag to the floor beside him, ready to defend himself against the aggressive demon if need be. “Should I?”
The demon let out an amused snort. “Berserkers are such arrogant fuckers. Not sure why, considering you’re nothing more than slaves.”
A common opinion. One that bothered Ewan far more than he let on. His own hatred of Gregor stemmed from the fact that the male’s burning need for revenge had indentured their kind to the Sortiari in the first place. The supernatural community viewed them as slaves to the guardians of fate. Shackled for eternity. And when he’d hoped that Gregor had freed them from that stigma once and for all, he’d simply turned the tables and enslaved them all again. This time, to himself. If that wasn’t a kick to the nuts, Ewan didn’t know what was.
“And demons are nothing more than cowards and bullies who don’t have the stones to fight their own battles. So what’s your point?”
The demon bristled and Ewan’s mouth hitched in a superior smirk. He had to get his digs in while he could and he was already pissed off that this arrogant piece of shit was keeping him from being naked and buried to the hilt inside of Sasha right now.
“You’ve cost me a lot of money lately.”
And…? Ewan shrugged. Where and on whom the demon chose to bet his money had nothing to do with Ewan. His job was to fight and kill his opponent in the cage. Nothing more. “It’s not my fault you’re betting on the wrong male. You should have learned your lesson about ten or so fights ago.” He took a step forward to show the demon he didn’t cower easily. “I don’t lose.”
The demon’s overly large lips spread into a sickening grin. “Don’t be so sure about that.”
Jesus. If the bastard’s intentions were to kill Ewan with his disgusting stench, he was doing a damn good job. He didn’t have time for this bullshit. Not when Sasha’s soft, willing body was waiting for him at her apartment. He let out a chuff of laughter. “Next time, put your money on a sure thing.”
“You truly don’t know who I am, do you, berserker?”
Ewan’s gaze narrowed as he studied the demon. His ego could give Gregor’s a run for its money. It’s not like Ewan made a point to acquaint himself with the dregs of the supernatural underground’s heavy hitters. Maybe it was time he did, though. It would save him from headaches like this one.
“Again … should I?”
“Sorath.” The demon snapped his teeth at Ewan. “Learn that name. Remember it. And be sure that you’ll see me again.”
Ewan didn’t respond well to threats. His fists balled at his sides as the powerful onset of battle rage swelled within him. He could put this asshole in his place right fucking now if he wanted to, but he was more interested in letting Sasha take the edge off for him. Without giving the demon the satisfaction of a response, Ewan bent and retrieved his gym bag. He looked the demon over once more, committing his face to memory, turned his back, and walked away.
Sorath laughed and the confidence in that sound planted a tiny seed of doubt in Ewan’s gut that quickly sprouted and grew. He had a feeling he’d tangle with the demon again. Soon. And when he did, it wouldn’t be a pleasant experience.
His troubles were beginning to pile up and he didn’t like one damned bit.
* * *
By the time Ewan made it to Sasha’s apartment, he was wound up tight and desperate to hit the release valve. He walked through the door, ready to get naked and down to business. He wanted to be inside of her so badly he thought he might spontaneously combust.
Sasha sat on a barstool at the kitchen counter with a glass of wine in her hand. “Take your clothes off.” Ewan wasn’t about to waste another second. “And bend over.”
Her lips pursed as she cocked a challenging brow. Her expression spoke volumes and it looked like she wasn’t in the mood to play. Pissed he was late? Or something more? Either way, it didn’t look like Ewan was going to get the relief he was after anytime soon.
Fuck.
“What’s the matter?” Their relationship so far was about sex and little else. Only in recent weeks had they allowed time for conversation and companionship. It felt strange to ask if something was wrong. As though he had no right to do so. Still, wasn’t this what Gregor wanted? For Ewan to get close to Sasha and bring back valuable intel?
“Saeed is grounding me.” The hurt and anger in her tone made Ewan think that whoever this Saeed was, he meant something to Sasha. Or had at some point. “I told him to go fuck himself.”
There was definitely something between them. A territorial growl built in Ewan’s chest and he swallowed it down. Until Sasha, he’d never experienced possessive feelings of any kind and he didn’t like the burn in his chest one damned bit. His temper threatened to flare and he took a calming breath, stuffing that impending rage to the soles of his feet. “Who’s Saeed?” The words came with a sharper edge than he’d intended but at this point, he was surprised he hadn’t shouted the question.
“Our coven master,” Sasha said. “And my maker.”
The way her voice went to a low murmur at that last part sent his temper to an even darker place. The intimacy in those words shifted his imagination into high gear and his lip curled. “He has some ownership of you?” What he really wanted to know was how exactly Sasha had been made a vampire by Saeed. Images of his mouth at her throat ravaged Ewan’s mind and his gut curled into a tight knot. Had he pierced her throat? Drained her of blood? And then what…?
“He doesn’t own me,” Sasha said. “But as a member of his coven, I do answer to him.”
“He turned you?” Ewan could think of nothing else. His need for answers consumed him. “He drained you of blood?” That much Ewan knew of how a vampire was made. “Then what?”
Sasha’s brow furrowed. “He fed me from his vein.”
The answer was so guileless that it hit him with the impact of fist to his chest. The air left his lungs as his temper flared to even greater heights. “Your mouth at his throat?” Gods, he couldn’t wipe the image from his mind and it drove him mad with unchecked rage. Forming even marginally coherent words seemed impossible.
Sasha looked at him like he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. Ewan shouldn’t have given a single shit how Sasha was made a vampire, who made her, or anything else. He shouldn’t have cared who touched her, or talked to her, or who she spent her hours with when they weren’t together. But the more he thought about the possibilities, the more Ewan wanted to scrub the images from his mind. He couldn’t do a damned thing to stop his irrational behavior, let alone pinpoint why he felt this way.
Fuck!
Every minute spent with her was another minute he lost himself.
“Tell me, Sasha!” His angry shout bounced off the surrounding walls. “What claim does this Saeed have over you?”
Sasha stared at Ewan, dumbstruck. She had no idea what prompted his outburst but it did nothing more than further aggravate her already foul mood. After her run-in with the demons the night before, she’d been on edge. They’d bullied her, roughed her up, threatened her, and tried their damnedest to intimidate her. They thought she held some sway over Ewan. That somehow, their relationship was something more than it was. Sasha had refused to demure and told those nasty bastards exactly where they could stick it. They hadn’t taken her defiance lightly and had left her with a little parting gift to show her what was in store if she didn’t play ball.
Her forearm still burned like a motherfucker from where one of them had grabbed her. She needed to feed before it would heal completely. Hellfire wasn’t anything to laugh at.
Last night had ended on a low note. She’d collapsed into bed and risen at sundown to find Diego waiting for her with the ominous summons from Saeed. Rather than present herself immediately to her coven master, Sasha had taken off. Running from her problems might not have been the best idea, but right now, it was the only coping mechanism she had.
She’d come to the apartment hoping that she’d find solace in Ewan’s company. That
somehow, in the past few weeks, they’d grown closer and he’d help her deal with the shit storm that currently rained down on her. Instead, he only added to her stress with his unfounded anger and demands. Had every male on the planet lost their damned minds? Sasha wondered if there was anywhere she could go to escape the bullshit.
Sasha’s own temper exploded as she shot from the chair. “What in the actual hell is wrong with you, Ewan?”
He leveled his gaze and his eyes darkened, a sure indication that a storm was coming. The barest hint of fear tickled at the back of Sasha’s brain but she ignored the warning. Ewan could rage all he wanted. She refused to be afraid of him.
“Answer me, Sasha.”
“No male has claim on me.” She leveled her gaze and met him look for look. “Including you.”
Black bled into his irises, transforming Ewan into the creature so many feared. She didn’t understand that part of his nature. It seemed so apart from who he truly was. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat and the nagging thirst that flared from her weakened state. Sasha was as much a predator as Ewan. When cornered, a predator fought back.
Ewan reached out and snatched her arm. His fingers dug in where the demon’s hellfire burned her and she couldn’t quell the sharp gasp of pain. The black retreated from Ewan’s gaze in an instant and a deep crease of concern marred his brow. He slid his grip to her wrist and yanked up her sleeve with his other hand.
“What happened? Who did this to you?”
Sasha drew her lip between her teeth. She didn’t want him to know anything that had happened last night but he’d smell the lie on her if she tried to hide it. Damn it. Why did he have to show up angry and wanting to pick a fight? All she’d wanted was a break from reality. To fuck and feed and replenish her strength. Instead, all she’d managed was to further complicate her already fucked-up life.
She met his gaze and found the words he wanted from her weren’t easy to provide. She wanted to protect Ewan. But from exactly what—and how—she had no idea.
“Why haven’t you healed?”
“Hellfire.” Sasha nearly choked on the admission.
“Motherfuckers!” The word burst from Ewan’s lips in an angry shout that made Sasha flinch. “When? Where?”
He seemed more angry than surprised, which made Sasha think that Ewan had already had a run-in or two with the demons himself. Great. She’d hoped their tactic was to put pressure on her alone but they obviously didn’t trust her to convince Ewan to play ball on her own.
“Last night,” Sasha said with a sigh. “Right after I left here.”
Ewan didn’t release his grip on her. With the pad of his index finger, he traced the skin around the burn with such gentle care it made her breath hitch. His duality fascinated her. The combination of violence and tenderness that always seemed at war with each other.
“I’m going to gut that son of a bitch and then choke him to death with his own entrails.”
That painted quite the mental picture. Ewan giving in to his temper was exactly what the demons wanted, though. It would show them they’d managed to get under his skin and that he could be compromised.
“I’m okay.” Sasha didn’t know if that’s what he wanted to hear but she didn’t know what else to say. “I can take care of myself. A supernatural burn is going to leave a mark. It weakened me, that’s all. Once I feed, I’ll be fine.”
“What do they want from you?”
Compliance. “To scare me.” Not the whole truth but enough of it to placate him, she hoped.
“To get to me,” Ewan insisted.
Also true. Sasha didn’t know why that truth bothered her so much. It seemed ridiculous the demons would come to the conclusion that she had that sort of sway over Ewan at all. No one knew about the tether but her, Ewan, and Ani. No way would her best friend talk. The rumors that had been circulating pegged them as lovers, nothing more.
As far as Sasha could tell, the tether that bound them went one way. Ewan had no attachments to her whatsoever. Sex was their only connection. He used her for a few hours of pleasure every night and in return, offered his vein as payment. Sasha cringed at the thought that her relationship with Ewan reduced her to that status. A blood whore, trading her body for something vital to her: the blood of her mate.
The tether weakened her. Made her dependent. It undid everything she’d tried to build in her life since becoming a vampire. So far, the return of her soul had been nothing but a curse. “They said they wanted to talk to me about you and I told them to fuck off.” That part had been true as well. Which was why they’d burned her with hellfire. To let her know they meant business. “I don’t think they’re used to getting the brush-off.”
What Sasha didn’t tell Ewan was that the demons had given her one hell of a sales pitch. He’d made some serious waves in the supernatural underground and those who’d bet against him weren’t happy about the money they’d lost. Sasha had laughed in their faces when they’d told her what they wanted her to do. Ewan couldn’t be controlled any more than a hurricane could be steered. Her influence meant nothing.
“What did you tell them, Sasha?”
Ewan’s gaze darkened once again and indignant fire sparked in her gut. He thought she’d roll over so easily? That perhaps she’d spilled her guts and given the demons something they could use against him? What a bunch of bullshit.
“Nothing.” She tried to pull her arm from his grasp but he held her fast. “What the hell could I possibly tell them?” She’d tried to come to terms with their casual-sex relationship. But the realization that she didn’t know a single thing about Ewan outside of the battle arena stung. They weren’t even friends with benefits. “I don’t know a single gods-damned thing about you!” She didn’t mean to shout but she’d kept her emotions bottled for far too long.
The anger melted from Ewan’s expression and he stared blankly at her before he hauled her close and put his mouth to hers. The kiss was crushing, urgent. Full of heat and desperation and something Sasha didn’t understand. He thrust his tongue past the barrier of her lips, demanding that she open for him. He deepened the kiss and her knees weakened under the passionate onslaught. She hated that he could so easily affect her. Exert such total control over her with so little effort. Sasha wedged her free hand between them and pressed against his chest. She didn’t want to be placated or seduced.
She wanted to be loved.
The air left her lungs and her heart hammered against her rib cage. She’d spent months feeding herself lies that she’d swallowed without question. Convincing herself that she didn’t want to be cared for or cared about. That she could go from one meaningless encounter to the next in order to find fulfillment. That it was the only way to guard her heart from being shattered into a million pieces once again.
Gods, what a fool she was.
She managed to put enough distance between them to break the kiss. Her forearm throbbed from the supernatural burn that wouldn’t likely heal until she fed, but Sasha refused to debase herself by begging Ewan for the favor. His blood might have called to her. It might have fortified her strength in a way that no one else’s ever could, but she couldn’t allow herself to be used anymore. She didn’t think she would survive another broken heart.
“Stop, Ewan. I can’t do this anymore.” She scrubbed a shaking hand across her mouth as though to banish the sensation of Ewan’s lips from hers. “I need to get out of here.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” He tried to keep his grip on her arm but she managed to slide it free. “Sasha?”
His demanding tone only served to spark her ire. As long as he was getting his, what did it matter how she felt? She’d been so stupid to think she had any measure of control over this situation. Things couldn’t be more out of her control.
So much for autonomy. So much for affection. So much for being a strong, independent female who couldn’t be bothered to care. The only thing between her and Ewan was sex and their shared history of
violence. She’d been a fool to think there could have ever been anything more.
CHAPTER
16
The door slammed behind Sasha and the sound rammed into Ewan’s gut like a fist. He took a lurching step forward before he froze in place. He knew he should go after her, sensed her anger and hurt. But what then? What would he do … say … when he got to her? That he was sorry? That he didn’t mean to hurt her? That he hadn’t intended for his temper to get the better of him? Berserkers didn’t make apologies. They didn’t show weakness. But it hadn’t always been that way, had it?
Like every surviving member of their clan, Ewan had done his damnedest to disregard his past and detach from the crippling emotions that only served to weaken him. He’d forgotten some of his own instincts. Letting Gregor’s revenge and anger become his own. He’d given himself over to rage and sorrow and allowed it to change him. As a whole, the berserkers had lost themselves. Let time and grief erode what made them who they were like water wore away at rock to make deep canyons.
Gregor’s vendetta had damned near destroyed him and Ewan wouldn’t stand for it. He’d been fighting for so long, killing in the arenas in order to secure his freedom when what he should have been doing all along was inciting a revolution. Maybe it wasn’t too late to make a change. But one thing Ewan knew for certain: he couldn’t do it without Sasha.
Over the past several weeks, she’d become his solace. His safe space. And he’d shown his appreciation by keeping her at arm’s length. It seemed impossible, but Sasha had reawakened something in Ewan. Something buried so deep its presence felt foreign. He’d tried to convince himself that he came here night after night out of some sense of duty. To protect Drew and his own damned secrets and machinations. That somehow, Sasha didn’t figure into the equation at all save being something warm and inviting for him to stick his dick into. He’d tried to convince himself that she didn’t matter. That she meant nothing to him. He no longer believed his own lies, however. Sasha mattered. She mattered in a way that was almost incomprehensible to him.