by I. T. Lucas
Teasing was a good sign that her stress level was declining. At least he hoped it was, she might have been putting on a show for him.
Wrapping his arm around Bridget’s narrow waist, he pulled her close against his side. “I’m going to buy a kilt, so I have my own, and I’m going to dance for you whenever you want.”
They entered the elevator, and he leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “I hear that traditionally Scotts don’t wear anything under their kilts. When I dance for you, I’m going to follow that tradition.”
Bridget laughed. “I guess more than sock tassels are going to be flapping around.”
On the drive to the keep, Turner went over the strategy he was going to use in his fight with Kian. Not that he was planning to win, the idea was for him to lose, but he was going to give the immortal a run for his money.
Victor Turner wasn’t planning on going down easily.
Kian was stronger and taller, which meant that Turner would have to go for the guy’s legs and topple him down to the mat. His only advantage was his training. He had no doubt that Kian was well trained too, but hoped that the guy was too overworked to dedicate much time to practice. Besides, a man who possessed such impressive physical attributes probably relied on his superior strength and size more than he did on technique.
As he and Bridget entered the gym, Victor was surprised at the large turnout. He wasn’t that popular. Whoever was there probably came to see Kian. After all, it wasn’t every day that their regent went sparring with a human.
Except, when the cheering started, people looked at him, not at Kian.
Most were Guardians. Some of them he knew by name, like Anandur and Brundar, Onegus and Arwel, and Bhathian; others he recognized from the sword dancing he’d joined at the wedding.
Carol was there, beaming at him and clapping her hands so hard it must’ve stung. Andrew and his wife came together with their baby. Among the civilians, he recognized Eva, Vanessa, Edna, Brandon and William, and of course Roni, Sylvia, and Ruth.
So many people, and it seemed that they all came for him. Who’d called them? How had they known to come? Had Bridget group texted everyone while he’d been in the shower?
Kian walked over and offered his hand. “How are you feeling? Still good after your nap?”
“Never better.” Turner shook the hand he’d been offered.
“Glad to hear that. Drinking to excess is sometimes good for you. Not too often, but when combined with a joyous occasion it can work wonders on stress levels.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Turner smiled.
Kian’s little speech had sounded rehearsed, which further implied he was trying to hide something. The guy was a shitty actor and a terrible liar. But this was not the time or the place to confront him about what he’d done or hadn’t done at the wedding.
“So, how are we going to do it?” Kian asked as he walked over to the mat and removed his shoes.
Turner kissed Bridget’s hand before letting her retreat to the audience section where Kian’s wife wrapped her arm around her shoulders.
He was glad to see that she wouldn't be alone and that someone was there for her. Bridget was putting on a brave face, but he knew she was worried.
Hell, she was frantic. But there was nothing he could do to assuage her fears. They came from some irrational place inside her that his logic couldn’t reach and apparently neither could hers.
But then that was the nature of fears. They were rarely rational. Besides, most often it wasn’t the thing you feared the most that got you, but something you never anticipated. Like his military career which he’d survived unscathed, only to get ensnared by cancer.
Turner kicked off his shoes, walked barefoot over to the mat, and assumed a fighting stance. “We spar.”
Kian smirked. “It’s going to be over in seconds.”
“Don’t count on it.”
49
Bridget
“But first,” Kian said. “There are a few ceremonial words that need to be said.”
Victor straightened up. “It’s not necessary.”
Kian shook his head. “It’s tradition. Besides, it’s the perfect opportunity for me to extract a few promises from you.”
He was joking, of course, but Victor didn’t know that and nodded solemnly.
Kian motioned for Okidu to distribute the traditional wine glasses to everyone.
Once it was done and everyone was holding a glass, Kian cleared his throat. “We are gathered here to welcome Victor Turner into our clan and hopefully immortality. Victor is ready to attempt his transition, and I personally vouch for him. He is worthy.”
Wow, that was a serious deviation from the traditional wording. Bridget wondered if Victor realized what an honor Kian was bestowing upon him by personally vouching for him and not asking the community’s approval.
“I also volunteer to initiate Victor Turner into his immortality. Do you accept me as your initiator, Victor? To honor me with your respect and your loyalty from now on?”
There was no hesitation. “I do.”
Kian turned to the audience. “Does anyone object to any of this?”
When no one said anything, Kian raised his glass. “Let’s welcome Victor into our family and wish him the best of luck with this toast.”
A cheer went up, and someone started clapping, soon to be followed by every person in the audience.
Victor looked speechless, but only for a moment. Turning to the audience, he bowed. “Thank you, everyone.”
Bridget was fighting a losing battle against the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She hadn’t expected such a show of support.
Syssi’s arm around her shoulders wasn’t helping either.
Bridget was used to relying on herself. Heck, she was used to others relying on her. The show of support was only weakening her.
“I’m okay,” she said, shaking Syssi’s arm off. “I’m not going to collapse.”
“I know. You’re a pillar of strength. But if you need to lean on someone, I’m here for you.”
“Thank you.” Crap, she was behaving like such a bitch to a woman that was nothing but kindness. “I’m sorry, but I’m so stressed out that I feel like I’m going to fall apart if I don’t pretend to be a rock.”
“I understand.”
“Thanks. Remind me to make it up to you.”
“There is no need. Everyone deals with hardships in her or his own way. Do whatever works for you.”
The woman was an angel.
“Now we can spar,” Kian said.
As Victor and Kian started circling each other like a couple of vultures, Bridget felt another arm around her shoulders, a strong and familiar one, and it didn’t belong to Syssi.
“Julian. Thanks for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Turner was moving much faster than she would’ve thought a human his age could. There was grace and fluidity to his moves, but instead of it being a product of superior genetics, it was the result of many years of hard training.
“Not bad for an old guy,” Julian whispered in her ear.
“Not bad period. Victor is very good.”
Kian was starting to realize that as well, but it seemed he was in no hurry to unleash his full power on Turner. It looked like he was enjoying himself, and the same was true for Victor.
It was all fine and dandy, except that at this rate Kian wasn’t going to produce venom.
He must’ve reached the same conclusion and lunged at Victor, but her guy was fast and slippery, not only avoiding capture but swiping Kian’s feet from under him.
Not expecting it, the big guy went down, but he was too agile and strong to let himself go all the way. Before reaching the mat, Kian swung his body midair and sprung to his feet in a move that left Turner gaping.
But only for a split second.
Victor jumped back, avoiding the second lunge, but Kian kept pushing harder. By now his eyes were glowing, and his fan
gs were making an appearance.
It wouldn’t be long until the match was over.
Bridget’s gut clenched with dread. There was no going back. It was happening, and all she could do was deal with the consequences.
Julian squeezed her shoulder. “Your guy is a fighter down to his very soul,” he whispered into her ear. “Whatever happens, he is not going to give up without a massive struggle. He is a survivor.”
She was well aware Julian wasn’t talking about the results of Victor’s sparring match with Kian. The thing was going to be over in minutes, maybe even seconds. He was talking about what would happen after. Victor would wrestle with the Grim Reaper himself, and the man was just stubborn and determined enough to win.
If there was even a sliver of a chance, he was going to do everything to get back to her.
Bridget put her hand over Julian’s and clasped it. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed that.”
Her son dipped his head and kissed her cheek. She leaned into him, taking comfort in his warmth and his strength. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t be left alone to deal with it. Julian would be there for her.
Taking a deep breath, Bridget forced herself to calm down. It was then that she started noticing things that had escaped her attention before.
This sparring match was unlike any of the others she’d witnessed. No one was cheering, and the gym was eerily quiet as if everyone were holding their breath. It wasn’t lack of support for Victor; the opposite was true. No one dared make a sound lest they break his concentration.
It was a show of respect.
Hopefully, he interpreted it as such. She wouldn’t want him to think that people didn’t care about him as much as they did for Roni, who’d gotten plenty of cheering.
Victor would never admit it, but she sensed that he craved acceptance. As the saying went, no man was an island.
She saw the moment Kian decided it was time to end this. With a determined expression on his face, he tackled Victor to the mat and landed on top of him. Victor tried to get free, but it was no use. Kian was holding him pinned down with an iron grip.
A loud hiss, a flash of gleaming white fangs, and the deed was done.
Victor went limp, and Kian eased his grip on him but didn’t retract his fangs. Time ground to a halt as he kept pumping his venom into Turner’s bloodstream.
As Bridget counted the seconds, a whole minute passed. She needed to intervene and tell Kian to stop before he overdosed Victor.
But before she had a chance to make a move, Kian retracted his fangs and licked the puncture wounds closed.
“Turner is all yours,” he said as he pushed up to his feet.
She rushed to the mat and knelt by Victor’s prone body, checking his pulse first. Relief washed over her when she heard the steady rhythm. All that remained to be done now was wait. Sitting on the mat, she cradled Victor’s head and listened to the sounds his body was making; his heartbeat, his pulse, his breathing.
People came to congratulate her, and she smiled and nodded without paying them real attention. Her sole focus was on the man sleeping peacefully in her lap.
An hour later, she was still sitting in the same position, and he was still out.
“Maybe you should try and wake him up?” Julian suggested.
Only he and Carol remained in the gym to keep her company. The others had trickled out as time dragged on.
“I’ll wait a few more minutes.”
She ended up waiting another hour. He was still out and unresponsive.
“Did it ever happen like this before?” Julian asked.
Bridget shook her head. “No. The other Dormant males passed out for a few minutes and up to an hour, but the transition never started right away. Usually, it happened at night or the day after.”
“Are you sure it’s the transition? Can it be a bad reaction to the venom?”
She shook her head again. “He didn’t go into stasis if that’s what you’re suggesting. His heart rate is normal.”
Against all the odds, Victor was transitioning, but in a completely different way.
Before getting into doctor mode, Bridget sent a quick prayer. Please, dear merciful Fates let Victor survive.
“We need to transfer him to the clinic and hook him up to the monitors. Can you get the gurney?”
“I’m on it.”
Carol knelt next to Bridget on the mat. “Is there anything I can do?”
“You can pray.”
“I will do that.”
“Thank you.”
50
Kian
“You’re quiet,” Kian said as he held the penthouse’s door open for Syssi. “Are you tired?”
He hoped she wasn’t.
As always after a good match, like the one he’d just had with Turner, Kian was in the mood for sex. Although Syssi would have said that he was always in the mood for it, which was true, but especially after a fight.
The other problem with his plans for tonight was that Annani was staying at their place until after dinner the following day. She’d agreed to prolong her visit because of Turner, and the excuse they had given the others was that Annani wished to have a festive dinner with her son and daughter and their mates before going home. Naturally, such an affair needed some planning and couldn’t be just thrown together at the last moment.
He’d fobbed the planning off on Amanda, who’d in turn made a call to Gerard and ordered dinner delivered. So that problem was solved.
As to his current one, maybe he could take Syssi to one of the timeshare apartments on the lower level. But first, he had to report to Annani.
“I’m not tired. I’m sad for Bridget. The poor woman was so tense that she couldn’t stand my arm around her. I was relieved when Julian arrived. He is probably the only one she allows herself to lean on, other than Turner that is.”
Kian closed the door behind them and glanced around the living room, looking for the goddess.
“The Clan Mother is outside on the terrace,” Okidu said, passing by them with a tray balanced on his palm.
Not a big surprise. Annani spent most of her time outdoors. Apparently, the air in the artificial dome that enclosed her little paradise wasn’t as fresh as she would’ve liked. It couldn’t be since it had to be heated before getting distributed throughout the dome. After all, it was built under a thick cover of ice and snow.
“She is waiting for us,” Syssi said and followed after Okidu.
As Kian stepped out on the terrace, it occurred to him that it wasn’t safe for Annani to spend so much time out there. If her location somehow got leaked, their enemies could send in a battle drone to hurt her, or even kill her.
He should insist that she never sat out there without her Odus. In an emergency, they could form a shield around her.
“How did it go?” Annani asked Syssi.
“As usual, your son was very impressive, but so was Turner, for a human that is.”
“He did well,” Kian said as he sat across from his mother and Syssi. Pulling out a cigarette, he was well aware that he was slipping back into the nasty habit, but he wasn’t ready to put a stop to it yet. Once he finished this one pack, he was not going to send Okidu for more.
“How is he doing now?” Annani asked.
“I don’t know. He was still out when Syssi and I left the gym. But that’s nothing to worry about. Roni, the young guy who I induced a few weeks ago, was out for over an hour. My venom is potent.”
Syssi dipped her head to hide a smirk from Annani, letting her long hair cover the side of her reddening face.
As if a move like that would fool his mother.
Annani smiled indulgently. “Of course it is. You are my son.” She winked.
As a snort escaped Syssi’s throat, she covered her mouth with her hand. “My apologies, Clan Mother. I meant no disrespect.”
“None taken, she who is my son’s mate.”
Kian laughed. Annani had threatened to call Syssi that if she addres
sed her as Clan Mother instead of calling her by her name. The goddess never issued empty threats.
Wisely, Syssi didn’t reply, bowing her head in respect instead.
With a fond smile, Annani turned to look at Kian. “You should call Bridget and ask her how her mate is doing.”
“Yes, I should, but I don’t want to bother Bridget while she is taking care of Turner. He’s probably still groggy and high from my venom.”
“I remember that stage,” Syssi said and immediately blushed. “It’s the most potent the first time.” Her blush deepened.
Kian put the cigarette he hadn’t lit yet in the ashtray. “Anyone up for a drink? I’m going to get myself one.”
Annani pointed to the tray and the large sparkling water bottle on top of it. “I have all I need, thank you, and there are extra glasses if any of you care to join me.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Syssi reached for a glass.
Kian rose to his feet. “I’m not in the mood for water. I’ll be right back.”
Returning with a glass of fine Macallan whiskey, Kian sat down, picked up the cigarette from the ashtray, and lit it.
Fuck, it felt awesome.
What a shame he hated the smell it left on his clothes. Maybe he should try cigars, though not the small ones as Syssi had suggested, they were no good. But he could try the medium size. The lingering smell of cigar smoke wasn’t unpleasant. Or perhaps he should try a pipe? That was a thought. He’d never smoked a pipe before.
“I am curious about the girls from the first rescue operation,” Annani said. “How are they doing?”
Kian took a puff from his cigarette. “Not all of them wanted or needed rescuing, but those who did are doing well. None of them are underage, thank the merciful Fates. Once they are done with detox, Vanessa will try to enroll them in vocational schools so they’ll acquire marketable skills other than what they’ve been doing.”
“Did we learn anything new about the coercion techniques?”
“Not really. It started with a so-called boyfriend getting them hooked on drugs and then demanding they worked for it. Simple. But this was just a test run. Turner’s people are still gathering intelligence on the more sophisticated operations.”