Vampire Fight Club

When Fade and two of his henchmen stopped at the door, he wasn’t surprised.

“It’s time.” Fade tapped on the door’s iron bars in an annoyingly cheery tempo. “With me, Sabine. Your female is going to the arena.”

Nate exploded to his feet, putting himself between the demon and Lena. “You’re not touching her.” He hadn’t been able to protect Eleanor, but by the gods, he’d die before he let Lena be killed.

The two rhino-fiends raised their weapons—lightning sticks, demon inventions that cast a bolt of something that was a cross between electricity and acid. As it stunned you into temporary paralyzation, it ate away the flesh around the area it had struck.

“Nate,” Lena murmured, her palm coming down on his back. “Please. Go with them.”

That wasn’t going to happen. Time for plan B. He pegged Fade with a hard look. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

Fade nodded at one of the grayish demons with him, and the thing opened the door.

Lena clutched Nate’s arm, holding desperately tight. “Whatever you’re planning . . . don’t.” She lowered her voice as he turned to face her. “I’m dying anyway. Please, don’t make this harder on yourself.”

“Lena.” He cupped the back of her head and put his lips to her ear. “I haven’t had anything worth living for in a long time. Now I do. Trust me.”

He felt guilty for lying, because although what he’d just said was the truth, there was more to it. He also hadn’t had anything worth dying for in a long time. Now he did.

Without looking back, he exited the cell and walked with Fade to the staging area, an open room containing magical artifacts, painted symbols, and an altar. Fury built with every step, all the hatred that had burned out coming back with a vengeance, and Nate welcomed it like an old friend. Once inside, he rounded on the demon.

“Put me in the ring, motherfucker. Put me in there instead of her.”

“That would hardly be fair,” Fade growled. “We don’t have a fighter who can beat you.”

“You can.”

Fade’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re challenging me?”

“Challenging? I plan to kill you. But if I lose, Vladlena goes free.” The demon would take the deal, because the source of his power didn’t come from combatants who won—it came from those who lost. It was why the fight club was so popular . . . people from all over came to fight and lose, knowing they could get whatever they wanted upon their deaths . . . wealth for their children, revenge on an enemy, protection for a loved one. The catch was that if you lost, Fade collected your soul, and most challengers didn’t realize just what “losing your soul” meant.

In this case, it meant that Fade traded the souls he gathered to the highest bidder, and there were people you did not want to own your soul.

“And if I lose?” Fade asked.

“The club is mine.”

Fade hesitated.

“Come on,” Nate cajoled. “You know you won’t lose. And even if you do, you can resurrect.”

Fade hissed. “How do you know?”

“You think I didn’t learn everything there was to learn about your sorry ass?” Nate had just signed his own death warrant. Fade couldn’t risk anyone knowing the truth about him. An enemy who knew how to kill him permanently . . . yeah, not good for someone who had so many enemies.

“What else do you know?”

“You mean, do I know that Budag is your vivacant?” Nate smiled. “That he, and he alone, can bring you back to life? Yeah, I know that. The only reason I haven’t killed him is that I couldn’t risk you finding out I did it and taking it out on Marsden.”

Fade’s skin rippled, the texture alternating between wrinkled and smooth, the color doing a chameleon between tan, red, and the surrounding gray walls. The dude was both excited and angry, something Nate had seen only a handful of times. In his research, he’d learned that the skin thing was a reaction to stress, a natural process that increased the demon’s strength and stamina. Not good.

Fade snatched a parchment from the stack on the altar and slapped it down hard on the stone. “Let’s write this up, vampire. And then I’m grinding you into hellhound food.”

Chapter 11

It had taken everything Lena had not to break down as Nate walked away. She might not know his world like he did, but she had keen senses, and she’d smelled trouble.

Which came in the form of three ugly, horned demons bearing those funky knotted sticks. She’d started to fight them, but after they’d explained what the sticks did, she decided to save her strength for when it would do her more good. Now, blindfolded and shackled, Lena tripped and stumbled her way down the passage, the two demons on either side of her dragging and pushing if she slowed down.

The sound of an anxious crowd, and of blood, bowels, and excrement grew stronger, and she knew she was once again entering the vile arena. One of the demons removed her shackles while the other stripped off her blindfold, and then she was shoved through the gate into the blinding light of the pit.

The first thing she saw was Nate, barefoot, bare-chested, wearing only jeans. His hands were fisted around an ax handle as he faced Fade, who held a wicked curved blade and a wooden stake. Every drop of color drained from Nate’s face when he saw her.

“Hey, sis.”

She wheeled around. “Vic,” she gasped. “What . . . what are you doing?”

Vic pegged her with those black marbles he called eyes. “I’m finally going to rid the world of your weakness.”

“But Vaughn—”

“I told Vaughn I’d leave you alone on your turf. This is mine.” His body began to morph, the sound of bones cracking and reshaping so unbelievably loud in the noisy club.

Lena backed away, knowing full well that when the ten-second process was over, she’d be facing a 250- pound hyena that was far more powerful than its full-animal counterpart.

“This wasn’t part of the deal!” Nate snarled.

Fade’s laughter rang out, echoing endlessly. “You die, she lives. That was the deal,” Fade said. “But if she dies before you do . . .” He shrugged. “Well, that can’t be helped, can it?”

A low-pitched, jagged growl brought her attention back to Vic, who was now all animal. All monster. Drool dripped from his open mouth, which exposed sharp teeth meant to rip flesh from victims while he ate them alive. Terror welled as she eased backward, scanning the area for a weapon. Unfortunately, there was nothing, and though both her father and Wraith had spent time with her in Underworld General’s gym, teaching her self-defense, she knew damned good and well that her meager hand-to-hand skills weren’t going to help her against the beast in front of her.

Nate moved so fast she didn’t see him until he was at her side, swinging the ax. Vic yelped as the blade grazed him in the shoulder, but then Fade was there, his weapon coming down in a vicious arc.

Nate whirled, narrowly avoiding being beheaded, but his own swing at the demon went wild, leaving an opening for Vic. Her brother lunged, catching her forearm between his jaws. A firestorm of agony accompanied the crunch of bone. Screaming, she punched him in the head, but she was no match for the brother who had beaten her in every battle since they were cubs. He shook her like a rag doll, and her world became a blur.

A warm spray splattered her face—her own blood, she realized, as Vic sent her flying into the wall. Pain shattered her ribs, spine, and arm as she crumpled to the ground. Though she could hear the battle between Nate and Fade clearly, she could barely see through the veil of red dripping into her eyes. In a split second, though, her vision filled with fur and teeth. She twisted, barely avoiding having her face ripped off, and at the same time, she jammed her good arm back, nailing the hyena in the throat.