by Kate Baxter
Probably tasted just as bad as they smelled.
Gods, what a completely fucked-up situation.
“After tonight, there’ll be one less berserker in the world, and that’s fucking fine by me. They’re all a bunch of animals and deserve to be put down.”
“What if he won’t play ball?”
Sasha held in a snort. She’d found out firsthand tonight that Ewan didn’t give a shit about her. These demons were currently holding a useless piece of leverage.
“He’ll play. You saw her with your own eyes. What male wouldn’t lay down his life for a piece of that?”
Blech. Sasha’s stomach turned. If even one of these disgusting demons tried to lay a hand on her, she was going to rip their arms from the sockets. They might’ve thought Ewan would do anything to secure her release, even sacrifice his own life, but the fact of the matter was Sasha wasn’t getting out of here if she didn’t take care of it herself.
“We could keep her,” one of the demons suggested. “Play with her for a bit. It’s not like the berserker will have any use for her once he’s dead.”
The momentary silence was filled with another round of laughter. “That’s not how this works and you know it. He’s going to have to see her with his own eyes. Know she’s safe before he falls under Aronth’s blade. It’s the only way to secure a win.”
Aronth must’ve been the male the demons wanted Ewan to fight. Not that it mattered. Ewan would kill him just like he’d killed all of the others in the battle arena. He was unstoppable. A force of nature. Wild, violent. Without remorse. Nothing and no one would stop him.
“How much longer do we have to keep her here?”
Finally, some information Sasha could use.
“Until the others get their hands on the berserker and secure his cooperation. Once that’s done, we’ll take her to the arena.”
If Sasha could just be patient, she’d have an opportunity to escape. They’d have to take the netting off of her. They’d have to remove the bindings from her wrists and ankles to move her. And when they did, she’d attack.
“She’s still not conscious. What the fuck is up with that?”
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, asshole. Be glad we nearly knocked her brain out of her head. She’s a lot tougher than she looks and you’d be wise to keep your distance.”
Yes, they all would be wise to keep their distance. Because it wouldn’t be long before Sasha got a little revenge of her own.
Ewan hung limp from the ropes that bound his arms and secured him in place. He dangled from the ceiling, strung up like a piece of raw meat, and Ian Gregor was the butcher eager to slice him up. He’d lost all sense of pain hours ago. Gregor wanted to get a point across and he wasn’t going to stop until Ewan got the message loud and clear.
Fucking bastard.
Drew wasn’t much better off. He’d been cut down after Ewan was forced to look at Gregor’s handiwork and then dragged off somewhere in the building to rest and heal. One thing was certain, no one would die at Gregor’s hands tonight. Not when he needed every able body to wage his war. No, he’d simply beat Ewan within an inch of his life over and over again. Allowing him to heal only to pick up where they’d left off. He was being taught a lesson. Obey or suffer the consequences.
“You”—Gregor pointed the tip of his dagger at Ewan for emphasis—“belong to me. You eat because I allow it. You have a roof over your head because I allow it. Your lungs take breath because I allow it. And your heart fucking beats because I allow it!” His last few words ended on an enraged roar that shook the walls around them. Gregor drove the pommel of his dagger into Ewan’s gut. He let out a grunt as his muscles contracted in a last-ditch effort to protect himself. “Do you understand me?”
“Loud and clear.”
His sarcasm earned Ewan a slice of Gregor’s blade across his left biceps. Blood welled from the cut and spilled over his skin before it began to heal. One of the downsides to being such a powerful supernatural creature: torture could go for days on end. Gregor had bigger fish to fry than Ewan, though. He’d cut him loose soon enough. Once he felt as though his point had been made. It would behoove him to grovel and apologize. To beg for Gregor’s mercy. Ewan could put an end to all of this with a few simple words. Trouble was, he’d never been much for throwing in the towel.
“Where’s the money?”
Finally they were getting down to the meat of it. What Gregor really wanted was the money Ewan had won fighting. Funds to add to his coffers to pay for his ridiculous war. A war the Sortiari had long since forgotten, defunded, and abandoned. Too bad Gregor couldn’t take the hint and do the same. His fist made contact with Ewan’s face, breaking his jaw, and sending him swinging from side to side like the punching bag he was. He spat to the side to clear his mouth of blood and wiggled a loose tooth with his tongue.
“Where is the money, Ewan?” Gregor said again slowly and with deadly intent.
Gregor could beat him and cut him into small, bite-sized pieces and Ewan still wouldn’t tell him where the money was. He’d worked hard for that money. Drew had gone through hell for that money. He refused to hand it over just so Gregor could waste it on his vendetta.
“So help me, Ewan, if you don’t tell me where that money is—”
“You’ll what?” Ewan’s words were slurred by his broken jaw that still hadn’t fully healed.
“I’ll kill her,” Gregor said on a hiss. “Slowly. And I’ll make you watch.”
Ewan’s heart stuttered and his breath stalled in his chest. He went still as death as he leveled the one eye not swollen shut at Gregor and allowed it to narrow into a hateful slit.
“Do you really think I’m that daft, Ewan?” Gregor’s accent thickened with his ire. “You talk a good game, but I know the truth.” His lip curled back into a vicious snarl. “I can smell it on you. Betrayer.”
In a few short centuries, eons’ worth of instinct had been beaten out of them by the Sortiari’s cruel indifference and Gregor’s single-minded thirst for violence. A mated male could easily be recognized by scent. Ewan hadn’t even noticed a change in his, but Gregor had and it told him everything he needed to know.
“You’ve debased yourself. Soiled and tainted by a fucking vampire!” The last word left his lips on a roar that cast spittle on Ewan’s face. “You have lain with our sworn enemy!” Gregor continued to rail, his rage so intense he trembled. “Given yourself to her and formed a bond with her!”
Ewan met Gregor’s enraged stare with his one good eye. He refused to deny it. Wouldn’t. He loved Sasha and he was through playing games. Done with cowing in Gregor’s presence. He could beat him bloody every day for the next year and Ewan wouldn’t bow.
Gregor stepped up close and put his mouth to Ewan’s ear. “I am going to make sure her suffering is endless.” The calm of his tone was far more menacing than his angry shouts. “I’m going to starve her. Bleed her. Flay her skin from her with a dull knife.” With every word spoken, Ewan’s anger intensified. Heat pooled in his gut and flooded his limbs, bulging the veins and muscles beneath his skin. “I’m going to break every bone in her body. Smash them to dust.” He pulled back to gaze at Ewan. “I’m going to yank the fangs from her gums and wear them round my neck. Now … before you force me to do all of that and more, where is the money, Ewan?”
Ewan let out a disdainful bark of laughter. He could give Gregor the entire contents of Fort Knox, lay Mikhail Aristov at his feet, and it still wouldn’t save Sasha’s life.
Ewan took a deep, shuddering breath that rattled wetly in his lungs. “What money?”
Onyx swallowed the whites of Gregor’s eyes and bled out onto his cheeks to paint a terrifying portrait of rage. Ewan had taken so much damage over the past couple of days, first from the demons and now this. His body was slower to heal and the nonstop beating, stabbing, and slicing was beginning to take a toll. He wasn’t going to die tonight or any other night, but that wasn’t the point. Ewan had defied Gregor. Time
and again. And the warlord king was going to make sure Ewan got what was coming to him for his treachery. First, he’d break him. And then, he’d take everything from him.
Gregor came at him hard. With fists, kicks, slashes, and stabs. Renewed pain radiated throughout every inch of Ewan’s body as his resistance waned. Excruciating. Nearly unbearable. Debilitating. He didn’t so much as groan. He wouldn’t give Gregor the satisfaction. The ropes that bound him dug into his wrists, yanking with each brutal kick Gregor delivered to his torso. A loud pop and a flash of bright heat seared through Ewan’s shoulder as it dislocated. He hung there. Limp. Bloody. Damned near lifeless. Bruised. Battered. Broken and mangled. And still, he managed to keep his fucking jaw welded shut.
“Where is the money, Ewan?”
Gregor controlled his battle rage better than most. He could keep himself on the cusp of losing control. Teetering on the brink of that endless black chasm where memory didn’t exist. He managed to keep his grip on his mind. The situation. His surroundings. His control was astonishing. Probably why no one had been able to best him in a thousand years.
“Gregor.” A tentative voice called from the doorway. Ewan swallowed a snort. Gavin knew better than to step a foot in the room. “The vampire is gone.”
Ewan’s stomach knotted tight. He wanted to feel a sense of relief because there was no doubt the vampire in question was Sasha and Gregor had sent his piece of shit cousin, Gavin to fetch her. They’d no doubt hoped to snatch her before the sun set and had failed. Ewan winced as he tried to smile. Looked like he wouldn’t be the only one Gregor delivered a beating to tonight.
“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Gregor’s voice grated in his throat.
Gavin cleared his throat. “Not gone. Taken.”
The knot in Ewan’s gut bottomed out. Motherfuckers. He didn’t have to hear another word to know what had happened to Sasha.
“By…?” Gregor let the word hang and gods-damn, the impact was astounding.
“Demons,” Gavin replied. “The scent of sulfur was everywhere. We tracked a small van for a few blocks but lost the scent. They must have used magic to shake us.”
Gregor slashed out with his dagger and cut Ewan down. He crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut and sucked in a few ragged breaths as he tried to steady his careening world. Without Sasha, Gregor had no leverage and they both knew it. Ewan would have laughed if he hadn’t been so gods-damned terrified. If the demons had Sasha, shit was about to go from bad to worse.
“I’m not done with you!” Gregor pointed his dagger at Ewan as he strode through the doorway, leaving Gavin to stand there, mouth agape.
Gavin threw a disgusted glare Ewan’s way for a few seconds before turning to follow after his so-called king. Thank. Fuck. Now that he was alone, Ewan could get to the business of healing so he could get out of there and find Sasha.
If he couldn’t, he had a feeling the only way out of this fucking mess would be to die tonight.
CHAPTER
32
Ewan dug through Sasha’s discarded bag, hands trembling. She’d been snatched right off the damn sidewalk in plain sight. Shades of black and white bled into his vision, his unchecked rage threatening to overtake him. It wouldn’t do any good to lose control now. He needed to get to that bastard Sorath. He needed to make a deal. And if that meant dying in the arena tonight, so be it. Anything to save Sasha.
“Here.” He tossed Sasha’s cell to Drew. “Look for a contact named Lucas.” The vampire had obviously cared for Sasha and he was a big son of a bitch, certainly capable of protecting her. “If you can’t reach him, call Saeed.” Ewan loathed bringing the coven master into this, especially after Sasha had walked away from that part of her life. He wasn’t even sure Saeed would come to help if summoned. “I’ll text you my location after I meet with Sorath.”
Drew gave a sad shake of his head. “This is a bad idea, Ewan. I don’t like it.”
Ewan snorted. Neither did he. But he’d run out of options. “Just do as I ask.” Tonight would likely be the last night Drew would ever have to do a favor for Ewan. “Please.”
Drew cut him a look but gave a curt nod of his head. “Don’t let the bastards push you around.”
It was too late for that, wasn’t it? Ewan was already up against the wall. “Roger that.” But he didn’t need Drew worrying about any of that. He headed for the Civic and settled himself into the doorless driver’s seat. He turned the key and the engine spluttered to life. He pulled out onto the street and sped off in the direction of the gaudy Sunset Boulevard mansion. The demons had managed to accomplish something Ian Gregor hadn’t. They’d taken his mate. And through her, they controlled Ewan. The warlord would be wise to take a page out of the demons’ book. Because Ewan was willing to do anything—including sacrifice himself—in order to keep her safe.
* * *
Ewan had never feared death. Until now. Never believed there was anything more to this life than pain, violence, and hardship. Until now. He’d never bothered with faith, hadn’t believed in any god, or the possibility of an existence after this life. Until now. He’d never known tenderness, passion, or love. Until now.
Until Sasha.
“Promise me you’ll watch over her. Give me your oath.”
“You need to knock this the fuck off. Now.” Drew refused to meet Ewan’s gaze after hearing his cousin’s words. “You’re not dying today.”
But he was. His death was the only thing that would protect Sasha. From the demons that wanted to exploit her. From Gregor who wanted to torture and kill her. From his own damned self whose very existence was a threat to her.
“Only one of us is going to walk out of that arena,” Ewan said. “And you know what’ll happen to her if it’s me.”
“They’re bluffing,” Drew replied. “I still can’t wrap my head around how you managed to find yourself mated to a vampire, but they have to know not even hell could protect them from your wrath if they hurt her.”
It was true that Ewan would set the world on fire if anything ever happened to Sasha. He’d leave a bloody swath in his wake that would make Gregor’s vengeance seem tame in comparison.
“I can’t take that chance.” He refused to gamble with Sasha’s life.
“Let me at least try to find her. I can track her scent easily enough.” Drew let out an amused snort. “It’s all over you.”
That telltale scent of a mated male was what had fueled Gregor’s wrath. As much as he’d wanted to keep his relationship with Sasha a secret, there was no hiding it. Not from Gregor, Drew, or any of the others. The cat was out of the bag. Lucky for Ewan, he didn’t have to contemplate his fate or future because of it. He was going to die in the arena tonight.
“What about her?” Drew wasn’t giving up. “Did you stop to think about what might happen to her if you die?”
Not if. When. “She’ll be safer without me.”
Drew cocked a challenging brow.
It was true Ewan wasn’t sure what his death would mean for their tether. But anything had to be better than living under constant threat. He could let Drew track her. Try to beat the demons at their own game. But what then? It wouldn’t change who she was or who he was. It wouldn’t protect her from Gregor and those still loyal to him.
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Drew said with disgust. “I left a message for that vampire. He might still show up. We’ll have backup. There’s no reason for this. This is a cop-out, Ewan. You’re giving up.”
“No.” Ewan gave a shake of his head. “This is me finally taking a stand. This is me finally taking control of my life.”
“By dying?” Drew’s incredulous shout echoed in the empty room. “Jesus! Are you even listening to yourself?”
Aye. If it meant dying on his own terms. “Just let me go out there and do what I need to do, okay?” Ewan stepped up close to his cousin until they were almost nose to nose. He reached out and gripped Drew’s shoulders. “Give me your oath that y
ou’ll protect her.”
Drew looked away, disgusted. “Bhí a saol roimh mianach.” Her life before mine. “You have my oath.”
Ewan stepped away and breathed a sigh of relief. He could leave this world now, knowing Drew would keep Sasha safe.
“So how the fuck does this work?” Drew might’ve agreed to Ewan’s terms, but his tone made it apparent he wasn’t happy about it.
“They want a good show. A fight that will raise the stakes and drive up the bets. Sasha will be close, at least that’s what I was told by that fucker, Sorath. I’m supposed to drop to my knees once we’re both beat to shit. They’ll let me see Sasha so I know she’s unharmed before the killing blow is delivered.”
Drew swore under his breath. “What a disorganized bunch of bullshit. Lucky for you, those demons apparently don’t have a brain to share between them. Jesus, Ewan. Drop to your knees if that’s what they want you to do. They’ll let her go, you’ll know she’s safe, then you spring up and kill the motherfucker.”
The demons weren’t as stupid as Drew thought. They’d hedge their bets, have a backup plan in place just in case Ewan tried anything. He refused to gamble with Sasha’s life. “It’s not that easy, Drew. But I promise you, if the opportunity presents itself and I know we’ll all walk away from this unscathed, I’ll do whatever I can to live through this.” It was an empty promise, but a necessary one.
“Fair enough.” Drew headed for the door. “I’ll be out on the floor, looking for her. Are you ready?”
As ready as any male about to face his death. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”
The crowd was particularly rowdy and bloodthirsty tonight. Obviously anxious for a good show. Luckily, Ewan was going to give them one. He wove his way through the throng of bloodthirsty onlookers toward the arena. His nostrils flared as he picked up the faintest hint of Sasha’s distinct cinnamon scent. His bones hummed in his body with awareness of her. A bond had indeed been formed between them. She’d woven herself into his very DNA. She wasn’t in the building, but she was close. Ewan felt her presence like a single star in an endless black universe. Gods, he hoped she was safe and unharmed.