Eyes turned his way, some vampire, some shifter.
But all friendlies. His own custom brotherhood. The talking was over and the traditional “fight club” had begun.
Kenny, a huge wolf shifter over six-foot-five with a barrel chest of hair, raised his beer bottle. “Carrington! Ya bastard! You finally joining the fun?”
“I am.” Someone offered him a shot of something wildly nasty. It burned every inch of his throat on its way down, and he liked it. “I want a fight.”
“What?” exclaimed Jermaine, one of his oldest vampire members.
“You heard me.”
“Holy shit, man. Hey! Make room, y’all. Carrington in the house!” He went off to spread the word while the current fight kept the attention of most of the room.
The intent wasn’t to harm each other, but more of a mano y mano spectacle to get out the aggression and show off their fighting skills. It wasn’t always vampire versus shifter, either. Sometimes vampire versus vampire, or shifter on shifter. The rules were clear. No teeth. No biting. No shifting. Sportsmanship and respect above all else. He’d been letting this go on for twelve years. Eventually, one day, they would be exploited, and if he wasn’t extra careful, he would burn for hosting.
Until that day, he lived for the comradeship he saw nowhere else. Vampires and shifters could get along, and much more.
Kenny slapped his back. “You’re a lover, Rhemy, not a fighter. But you look tight as a fucking bow. What’s going on with you?”
Maddening desire that he had to expend. He cracked his neck, then took off his shoes and socks, throwing them in the corner. “Nothin’.”
“Bullshit!” He caught the belt Rhemy flung at him. “It’s either money or a woman.”
Rhemy rolled his shoulders, trying not to roll his eyes.
“A woman. I’d bet my long life on it!”
Yells of encouragement and hisses when knuckle cracked bone punctuated the air, with fists up high, males bumping shoulder to shoulder, testosterone saturating the oxygen, lights so low one could see the glowing eyes of each group.
He remained outside the fighting spectacle, not trying to draw attention, and let the other two fight. Who would take him on? Some just wouldn’t out of respect. Newbies would think he didn’t know how to get down and dirty, but they would be wrong. Whoever would agree to fight him, he sort of pitied. He was going to take all his frustration out on him.
Maybe he should ask for two fighters…
Jermaine came back around, shouting over the chaos. “You’re a hard sell, Rhemy. But Stevens. He said he’d fight you.”
Good. Stevens was a brute of a shifter and had a lot of endurance.
Rhemy nodded his thanks then hung around the edges of the crowd, warming up.
A woman…
Yes, it was definitely because of a woman. One he hoped after tomorrow night he’d forget. Not likely anytime soon, but he’d sure try.
No way would Aleck turn her down once he saw her.
Fuck. Did he really just set her up with his friend?
When he’d returned to the office, he had a feeling he and Taelour wouldn’t pick up where they’d left off, even though he’d been ravenously hopeful. But something had changed. It was apparent she had no intention of rushing back in his arms, her sensa cut off, her tone businesslike. No, she didn’t regret opening her body to him, but obviously she hadn’t wanted to resume their sexy time either. She’d said they were moving too fast, but he thought after leaving her alone for half an hour, she’d change her mind.
He’d been wrong.
It’d been a painful blow to his pride.
And his heart.
A low growl vibrated in his chest.
Which was insane, since she had no right anywhere near his heart.
His body. Yes. Heart? Oh, hell no. That was for his fated.
And then she made that revolting comment about shifters, and forced him to match it with a false opinion he didn’t actually feel, calling them dogs. Though most vampires felt the way she did, he was disappointed to hear she wasn’t open-minded, or even kind-hearted, toward shifters.
She was just like every other ignorant female vampire who looked down on shifters like they had no reason to exist. It’d been a massive repellant. No woman of his could be that prejudiced, regardless of the fact that Taelour could never truly be his anyway. To avow another would be a monumental waste of time.
And yet, he still wanted her. The madness continued.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair, gritting his teeth, ready to attack.
What had gotten into him?
He shuffled back and forth on his feet, throwing out a few practice jabs and uppercuts, starting a good sweat.
There he was, burning for her, and yet all she wanted to hear about was what Aleck would want. That was when he realized introducing the two of them would be best for everyone. Setting her up on a date with Aleck Trevyn solved several problems.
First, it chilled some of the heat inside him and stopped him from evoking his desire again. He couldn’t take her to bed hours before introducing her to Aleck, no matter how much he wanted to. That just felt wrong. Second, she’d get her ticket to the party without having to sell herself like some kind of prized heifer. Thirdly—most importantly—she’d be out of his life.
Do you still want to see me? As payment?
Her question buzzed in his head, and he shook it off. Yes, he’d craved to spend a night with her, but he couldn’t now. The second he called Aleck was the very same moment he decided the last thing he needed in his life was a sexy, seriously fascinating woman hellbent on revenge who despised shifters.
A yell ripped from his throat at the war within him.
He should be the one to go with her. To protect her. To stop her. Or perhaps help her—
“No!” he shouted to no one but the voice in his head.
Never gonna happen. She mentioned having brothers. Four of them? They should be watching over her.
Despite the fact a crazy part of him wanted to be the one, he wasn’t.
He knew, he just wasn’t.
“Rhemy! You’re on!” called Jermaine. “Let him through!”
About damn time.
The crowd parted, hands slapping his back and shoulders, the excitement in the room heightening at the sight of the club owner eager to get his fight on. He hadn’t done it in months.
Stevens sliced through the bodies with a feral grin, standing in the middle of the blood-flecked floor, and cracked his knuckles.
“Come on, Rhemy!” shouted one member.
“Get him, pretty boy,” exclaimed another.
“Don’t be easy on him, Stevens. You got this!”
His opponent eyed him up and down as they circled each other.
“Sure you want to do this?” Stevens cried out over the noise. “I might make you sorry you did.”
Not as sorry as he was for taking Ernest’s place for five minutes at the cameras.
Rhemy raised his fists, set his right leg back, ready to rip.
Five minutes that tilted his world in her direction. He needed this workout, actually looked forward to the brutality Stevens would inflict to his body. The pain would be a welcome distraction from the pleasure he’d never experience again.
With a roar, Rhemy clocked Stevens’s face with a hard right, busting the lip, spraying blood on the floor, and effectively pissing him off. Stevens’s eyes glowed with dark, sinister delight. He got his revenge with a sharp, well-timed kick to Rhemy’s outside thigh with his huge foot, temporarily crippling Rhemy with the pain, then hit him with a jab. Rhemy’s head snapped back at the force before he got his bearings and took a shot to Stevens’s kidney.
Stevens went after him with a series of punches to the torso and an uppercut to the chin. Rhemy went soaring, landing hard. Now that hurt. He smiled before pushing off to his feet and hitting Stevens with a spinning back fist. Stevens dove for him, taking him back down to the cold concrete. Even though he had nothing pe
rsonal against Stevens, he used him as a representation of his frustration, and did his best to defeat the need in him.
In the end, his jaw was bruised, one rib had cracked, and his head pounded. They shook hands and he walked away, satisfied, his rage and tension spent.
Someone tossed him a clean, wet rag and he caught it, wiping the blood off his face. There had to be at least one or two fractured bones in his right hand too, but a little blood, a little ice, and he’d be right as rain by tomorrow night.
Miles caught up with him. “Rhemy. There’s someone outside who wants to talk to you.”
“Now?” he winced, working his jaw.
“She says she won’t leave until you do.”
He stopped. She? Had Taelour come back? He hadn’t healed entirely. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to see him bloodied, sweaty, and cut up. That kind of condition would demand an explanation. “Is it Taelour? The one I had you bring to my office earlier?”
“No.” Miles leaned in, lowering his voice. “She’s not one of us. She’s one of them.” He nodded over to the group of shifters cheering on another fight.
A shiya on his property? Hmm.
Rhemy grabbed his discarded shirt and put it on, starting to button it. “Did she give her name?”
“Lila. She’s out back, in the alley.”
It made sense she would be waiting there, since his club was members-only, and a shiya asking for the owner at the front entrance would draw a lot of attention. “Tell me everything you know.”
“Sal searched her. No weapons. She came alone, as far as we can tell. She’s a beauty, but I wouldn’t exactly call her a lady. When I asked her what she wanted, she told me that it was none of my fucking business.”
Rhemy chuckled, the pain of his injuries still throbbing, but his humor intact. “I see. More spice than sugar. Remind me. Anyone with outstanding debts who may be connected to her?”
Miles shook his head. “Very doubtful. I don’t think she’s from around here.”
Well, should be an interesting chat. He thanked Miles and finished getting dressed.
When he pushed the metal door to the alley, Sal was on the right. Rhemy nodded at him and set his hand on his shoulder, going around him to see an attractive brunette leaning on the brick, one shiny black pump braced on the wall, arms crossed. She wore a black, sleeveless, straight-neck jumpsuit on her tall frame, looking like she’d dressed for the boardroom.
Rhemy couldn’t help but smile, and gave a short bow. “Rhemy Carrington here at the beckonin’ of a Ms. Lila?”
She was not immune to good old-fashioned charm, however. She smiled in return. “I promise I won’t take up too much of your valuable time.”
“What can I do for you?” He dismissed Sal, who nodded and went inside, though Rhemy knew he would be an inch from the door.
“I’ll cut to the chase, Mr. Carrington. I know all about your club.”
“Everyone knows about my club,” he said, knowing that she didn’t mean the jazz portion.
Her eyes narrowed. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Hmm?” he continued to toy with her.
“Your vamps and shiefs society.”
He maintained a neutral expression and said nothing.
“Look, give it up, it’s not a secret anymore. Now with Marex Daulton rousing support for a peace accord, shiefs are coming out of the woodwork, feeling less threatened, finding others who are of the same mind. I live in upstate New York. Word has reached all the way up there now. Some are talking about starting their own.”
“Who told you there was one here?”
“Local shiefs from your own area. They want in badly, but they know it’s not likely if they don’t know someone who isn’t already a member.”
“What are their names?”
“I’ll never tell.” She pushed off the wall with a smile.
All were sworn to silence. Obviously that rule was being broken. “Well, bully for you for being privy to one of New Orleans’s many secrets.”
“Whether or not you’re looking for notoriety, you’re getting it. Several of your men admire the shit out of you, and are having a hard time being silent about it. Some consider you just as courageous as Marex. When you think of it, you’re even braver than him, since you’re not in hiding. He probably wouldn’t disagree.”
“You speak as though you know him personally.”
She shrugged. “More than most. We’ve interacted a few times now.”
That had his interest piqued, though he couldn’t entirely trust her word. “Well, I don’t do this for notoriety or to start my own revolution. I do this to learn, to build trust. And create a secure environment with no judgment for either group. That’s it. What happens outside of it is not my responsibility.”
“Oh, get over yourself. Yes, it is! It’s bigger than you now. Surely it crossed your mind it would happen someday.”
Anyway… “Get to the point why you’re here, darlin’.”
“I want in on tonight’s gathering.”
Chic. And bold. He had to give her that. “The answer is no.”
“Why?”
“How can I say this without sounding juvenile?” He rubbed his chin as though deep in thought. “Hmm. Boys only. No girls allowed.” He winked.
She didn’t find that amusing. “That’s sexist and antiquated.”
“It’s also essential. I can’t permit shiyas comin’ into the fold. You know what happens when adrenaline and lust are mixed with shiefs, all they want to do is fuck. At least in here they have an outlet to fight or drink it off.”
Her lips twisted. She knew he was right.
He relished being right. His hubris pushed him to add, “And if I allow a shiya, that would mean I’d also have to let in a vampiress, and before I know it, my shamps society turns into one giant inter-beings orgy.”
“That wouldn’t happen.”
He chuckled low, shaking his head. “You think I haven’t learned a thing or two about shifters by now, chér? It would happen. While tempting, I just can’t.”
“All I need is fifteen minutes. I’m not looking to make history by being the first female in, and no one beyond your members will know I was even here.”
“Like any of them would be able to keep it a secret. It’s not as simple as you think. I vet all members extensively before I let them in. They have to be recommended by a member before I even attempt that. From there, everyone has to vote. I’m sorry, but I don’t know you, and I don’t interrupt our gatherings for outsiders.”
The fire in her eyes didn’t match the plea in her tone. “I’m begging you, Carrington. At least listen to what I have to say.”
The second time tonight a woman wanted something from him that he was very reluctant to give. “You have my attention.”
“I’ve been leading my pack by myself for too long. Our alpha—my husband—disappeared months ago, and we have no choice but to assume he’s dead. The fact he could still return is the only reason another hasn’t taken his place. They were afraid of him of coming back. If I want to keep my position, I need an alpha by my side while I still have some say in who it’ll be. We’re hosting a competition for the right.”
He sensed where she was going with this. “And?”
“And I’m out of time. I can’t travel from city to city and pack to pack looking for contenders. All I want to do is go in there, make a quick speech, and maybe one or two will be interested.”
Or ten. Not a totally unreasonable request. He could imagine the men’s interest. The opportunity to become an alpha of their own pack? All of them were worthy of it, and deserved the chance. Even so… “Why don’t you wait until later when the meeting is over? You can talk to them all you want then.”
“I can’t wait. Maybe I’ll get a few to hear me out, but not the whole group.” She could see he was considering it. “What’ll cost me?” she asked.
Immediately a response came to mind, but he hesitated. “What I want you couldn’t
get me.”
“Won’t know unless you ask.”
“It’s not an item within your reach.”
“Ask, vampire.”
He tucked his hands in his pockets. He thought only of Taelour. “A key to the Centurias. Do you know what it is?”
She sighed. “Yeah. You don’t expect me to get you one right now, do you? Not possible.”
“So is your request. My men might not trust me ever again if I bring in a stranger.”
“I’m not that strange. They’ll have heard of me. Every shief with ears and a brain would know about the missing alpha from the White Fire Pack.”
“Regardless, that’s my price.”
Her eyes were fiery-yellow with frustration.
“What? Would you like to fight me instead?” he drawled, teasing her.
“You’re infuriating.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Can’t you just take something easy like money?”
“I don’t need money. And entry like this can’t be paid for.”
“Except with a Centurias key.”
“Except with that.”
She growled. “Now I know why some of my brothers would just rip a vampire’s head off.”
Rhemy raised a brow. “Then you really wouldn’t get inside.”
She stared at him a while, looking as though she was racking her brain for an alternative offer. There was none.
The moment she realized that, the fire in her eyes cooled to a solemnness Rhemy had seen earlier in Taelour’s eyes, when he told her he wanted nothing from her.
“Thank you for your time,” she finally said, turning to walk away.
Rhemy was hit with the inimitable feeling of guilt. He’d once been like her, at an impasse, groping to control what was left of his life. While she walked away in her open-back jumpsuit, he watched, wondering just what the gods were up to disrupting his routine twice in one night. No matter how he sliced it, he was turning down a rare opportunity for one of the guys to become a leader of his own pack. True, they’d have to fight for it, but shiefs loved nothing more. If his club was no longer a closely-guarded secret, then what the hell did it matter if he gave one shiya access to—what he considered—the best of the best?
Just when she was about to reach the end of the alley, he called out. “Wait.”
Rhemy: Immortal Forsaken Series #4 (Paranormal Romance Novella) Page 5