Vampire Fight Club

up as the healing ability inherent to his species channeled into the male. “You know this patient?”

“Vaughn.” She stumbled to the side of the bed, her legs threatening to give out on her. “He’s my brother.”

Vaughn had been the only one of her three brothers who hadn’t tried to kill her. As the runt of the litter, she’d been the target of their vicious games, and if not for her father, they’d have slaughtered her. Now that he was gone, Van and Vic had made several attempts on her life . . . which was one of the reasons she pulled a lot of double shifts at the hospital. Here, she was safe.

Eidolon motioned for another nurse to take over for Lena, and she didn’t argue. Vaughn needed care she couldn’t give right now. Not with the way her hands were shaking and her mind was spinning.

Dear gods, he’d been torn to shreds. One arm looked like it had been chewed nearly off. Deep bite wounds left skin and muscle flayed in massive slabs that peeled back from exposed bone. His throat had been torn open, and blood seeped through the layers of pressure bandages.

One of Vaughn’s eyes was swollen shut, but the other opened, and his bloodshot gaze latched onto hers. Recognition flared in the blue depths, along with unthinkable pain.

“Hey.” She took his hand, tried not to cringe at the icy-cold, clammy skin. “You’re at UG. You’re going to be fine.” She offered a trembly smile that faltered when she glanced up at Eidolon, whose expression made a liar out of her. “Vaughn, what happened? Who did this to you?”

“Th-thirst . . .” His voice was barely a rasp, his words gurgled through blood. “Club . . .”

He convulsed, and her co-workers became a flurry of action. Shade pulled her back with gentle hands as Eidolon tried to save her brother.

Time became fluid, elastic, stretching without giving Vladlena any sense of how much of it had passed before Eidolon finally looked up at the clock and spoke the words no one wanted to say—or hear.

“Time of death, 3:22.” The doctor looked over at her, his powerful shoulders slumped in defeat. “Lena, I’m sorry.”

She nodded, her throat too clogged with emotion to speak. “Shade.” Eidolon lifted a sheet to cover Vaughn’s body.

“Where did you find him?”

“Same place as the others.” Shade gave Lena’s shoulders a squeeze and stepped away from her, though he stayed close. “In the sewers beneath Fifth street.”

Shade’s words barely registered. She’d latched onto a rhythmic tapping noise that rose up even over the din of the bustling emergency department outside the cubicle. It took a moment to realize what it was; her brother’s blood, dripping to the obsidian floor. Odd what the brain focused on when it didn’t want to think about something horrible right in front of you.

“What is going on?” Lena whispered.

Shade’s dark hair brushed the collar of his black paramedic uniform as he shook his head. “I don’t know, but your brother is the only one to make it through the hospital doors alive.”

“This is the third victim this week.” Eidolon stripped off his gloves. “The human and demon realms have been in turmoil lately, but this is too specific to be related to the apocalyptic events.”

Turmoil was a mild way to put what was happening, given that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse had recently appeared, and at least one apocalyptic Seal had broken. The hospital had been dealing with the violent fallout nonstop, and Eidolon had been forced to hire unschooled help and train them on the job just to keep up with the patient load.

Shade casually kicked a towel beneath the exam table to stop the sickening drip of Vaughn’s blood. It was a small thing, but a thoughtful one, and Lena could have kissed the demon for it. “So what the hell are we dealing with?”

“Fight club.” Wraith, Shade and Eidolon’s blond, half-vampire brother, sauntered up, his leather duster flapping around his boots. “You’re dealing with some sort of underground gladiator fights.”

“And you know this, how?” Shade folded his arms over his broad chest in that universal big brother pose Vaughn used to give her while he waited for an answer he knew he wouldn’t like.

Wraith blinked, all mock innocence. “I wasn’t always a model citizen, you know.”

Vladlena glanced over at her brother’s lifeless body before quickly looking away. “He wouldn’t have been involved with something like that.”

“Maybe not willingly,” Wraith said. “These places are run by the same kind of scum who run dog and cock fighting rings.”

Her hands tingled, and she realized she’d been hanging onto the stethoscope around her neck like it was a lifeline. “What are you saying?”

“That your brother could have been bait. Used to train fighters. Or he could have been forced into fighting.”

The strawberry milkshake she’d had for dinner soured in her stomach. Pinpricks of pain spread through her fingers as she pried them away from the ancient stethoscope, which used to be her father’s. “Where do these things operate?”

Wraith jammed his hands into his jean’s pockets. “The really skeevy ones are run in Sheoul, but the most profitable ones are here in the human realm.”

“Hey, guys, look at this.” Shade held up Vaughn’s arm, and under the glow of the ultraviolet lamp on the wall, a stamp glimmered beneath blood on the back of his hand. “One of the other victims had a similar stamp.”

“Thirst,” Wraith murmured. “Nice place.”

Vaughn’s voice rang through her head. Th-thirst. She sucked in a harsh breath. “That’s what Vaughn said when he came in. I thought he was asking for water. What is Thirst?”

“Vamp club.” Wraith propped his hip against the counter and crossed his booted feet at the ankles. “Shifters and weres go too, and a few humans who are in the know about us.”

Vaughn had been even more of a recluse than she was. So why he’d go to this vampire club was a mystery. A mystery she was going to solve. If she had only a few weeks left to live, she’d make the most of them, and she’d get revenge for her brother.

A forbidden thrill shot through her at the thought, and yep, that had to be a symptom of the pending insanity, because the idea of violence had never excited her. And somehow, she couldn’t even bring herself to be upset about it . . . which was probably another symptom.

Very gently, she tucked Vaughn’s hand under the sheet. “Looks like I’m going to pay a visit to a vampire hangout.”

“Lena, if Thirst is a cover for a fight club, it’s too dangerous for you.” Eidolon’s tone softened to the one he used with children. “When your father asked me to give you a job, he also asked me to look after you if anything were to happen to him.”

She stared at the handsome doctor, surprised by his admission, but it didn’t change anything. “You can’t stop me,” she blurted out, and wasn’t that mature? She might as well stomp her foot, too. Breathing deeply, she found her big girl voice. “I need to do something that matters in the time I have left.”

The doctor closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, they were resigned. “Give me an hour to do some research.”

“I’ll do recon,” Wraith said, his blue eyes bright with mischief. She didn’t even want to know what he had planned. With Wraith, it could be anything.

Shade popped a stick of gum in his mouth. “I need to clean the rig, but let me know if you need anything.”

The brothers left her alone with Vaughn, and she sat with him, remembering all that they’d been through, from games of hide-and-seek as cubs, to mourning their father’s death. An hour later, Lore, the fourth Seminus brother, arrived to take Vaughn to the morgue.

“I’m sorry, Lena.” Lore placed his hand—gloved to prevent any accidents with the lethal power he wielded— over hers. “I’ll treat him well.”

As he wheeled Vaughn away, Eidolon arrived with a cup of coffee. He handed it to her, and she took it, hoping the hot liquid would ease the chill that had settled in.

“You can access Thirst either through a secret entrance behind a human Goth club called Velvet Chain,” he