Crimson Death (23 page)

I felt Nathaniel tense beside me. He leaned in just enough for his bare shoulder to touch my arm. Now that he wasn't having to worry about sparring himself, he was worried about Nicky. I was a little surprised that Jake had let his teaching assistant spar with anyone rather than just instruct. That must have meant something was up. Maybe there'd been more than one reason for Jake to tag Nicky to help him today.

I looked around and realized that there were more Harlequin here than normal, and most of them were ones like Scaramouche and Pierette, who had made it known that they weren't entirely content here in St. Louis. Hortensio, the animal half to his vampire master, Magnifico, was sitting near Pierette, much as we'd moved closer to Magda and Sin. Some of the Harlequin had been given their names by their dead queen, but others had chosen their names with permission of their queen. Magnifico was one of those, so I guess if that's the name you choose, your ego is going to be large enough that you are going to be a problem. Hortensio reflected his master's attitudes in almost every way, which made him seriously irritating without his master's suave and debonair manners to offset it. Funny how most of the Harlequin
who had kept the names of their masked alter egos, the names they killed under, were all pains in our asses.

Nicky and Scaramouche both dropped into a fighting stance, but it wasn't the same one. I knew Nicky didn't always telegraph his fighting style like that, but the two men had fought before and had watched each other spar with other guards. They had no deep, dark fighting secrets from each other. It was a plus to know your fellow soldiers' strengths and weaknesses, but it was anything but if you actually had to fight against them and not with them. Nicky knew that, so he wasn't trying to be coy.

Nicky feinted a kick at Scaramouche's leg, and the wererat returned the favor, but neither of them put much power behind it. The wererat feinted a punch at Nicky's face. He bobbed to the side, letting it go past, and then Scaramouche moved in a blur of speed with his other hand. Nicky's arm was just in front of his face, blocking the other man's fist. I hadn't even seen him move to block; it was like magic. Scaramouche tried to follow with a punch to Nicky's ribs, but the werelion blocked with his elbow and moved just enough, so that missed, too.

Scaramouche gave himself some distance from the other man, hands still raised up protecting his face, elbows tight in over his ribs. “You should not be that much faster than I am, lion.”

“I'm Rex of our pride, rat.”

“It doesn't matter. You are not Harlequin. You should not be faster than me.”

Nicky faced him with his own arms up, elbows tucked tight against the side of his body; he was on the balls of his feet, almost bouncing in place. Someone his size shouldn't have bounced like that either; he'd always been more agile than he looked, but I agreed with Scaramouche on the new speed. I'd never seen Nicky move like that.

“Don't you mean that you shouldn't be this slow?” Nicky said; his voice already held an edge of growling to it.

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean, lion. Only the Harlequin are so swift that another wereanimal cannot see them move.” Scaramouche kicked at him, but Nicky moved out of the way of it, no need to block. Scaramouche moved in suddenly with a rain of blows and kicks that were just a blur of motion. I couldn't follow it all, but it was as if
Nicky's hands, arms, and legs were just there, where they needed to be. Scaramouche was a dark blur, but Nicky was so fast my eyes couldn't even see the blur of his motion. The last time I'd seen anyone that fast, it had been some of the Harlequin before we killed their dark queen. All but one of those particular Harlequin had died rather horrible deaths, so the preternatural wonder speed hadn't helped them all that much, but I'd never seen one of our people be this fast.

Frustration in a fight can lead to four things: You give up, you fight harder, you fight worse, or you cheat. Scaramouche was Harlequin; they didn't give up. He fought harder, but when that didn't get him past Nicky's guard, his arm swung a little too wide. Nicky landed a fist on the exposed ribs.

I felt the warm rush of power, and for the first time, it was my inner rat that responded to the energy as Scaramouche lashed out. Nicky rocked back and his cheek was bleeding, but Scaramouche hadn't hit him. I'd have seen that.

Jake was between them, moving so fast, it was as if he'd just appeared to separate them.

“No claws—you know that, Scaramouche.”

I saw the claws curling from the fingers of his gloves now; both hands had sprouted claws, which meant he was powerful enough to shift just that much and no more. Micah could do it, but he was Nimir-Raj; Nicky couldn't do it, and he was Rex. Nicky touched fingertips to the small cuts on his face. He'd kept the claws from doing much more than touching his skin.

Jake started to stop the fight, but Nicky said, “Let's do this.”

“No claws, no shifting,” Jake said.

“Only because the Rex is not powerful enough to do a partial shift.”

“And you aren't good enough to beat me without shifting,” Nicky said.

Scaramouche made a low evil sound that I think was a rat equivalent of a growl, because again a small, dark-furred shape inside me reacted to his beast. Rafael had shared his beast on purpose with me, but it was still new.

“I can defeat you without changing form.”

“Prove it,” Nicky said.

Jake made the wererat show his hands, making sure his fingers were just human digits again.

“Are you certain you both want to do this?” Jake asked.

“Oh yeah,” Nicky said.

“Very much so,” Scaramouche said.

“If you bring out your beast again, I will finish the fight in Nicky's place. Is that clear, Scaramouche?”

The wererat's eyes widened a little, but he bounced in place to loosen his body up and said, “I will defeat the lion fairly.”

“Scaramouche,” Pierette said, but he ignored her as if she had not spoken.

Nicky did his own bounce. Jake stepped back and said, “Fight.”

They took Jake at his word; even blocking the punches and kicks had force to it. They both made harsh involuntary noises, but there was none of the yelling that they teach you in some martial arts classes. Yelling when you didn't have to was for show. The two men weren't putting on a display. This was a fight, a real fight. Only their combined skill kept it from being even more violent because neither was able to get through the other's guard. They were both so fast, I couldn't follow all of it.

Nicky's fist came through all Scaramouche's punches and caught him in the mouth. It staggered the wererat, and I saw blood. Nicky followed it up with a hook to the ribs that he blocked, but Nicky landed a knee to the other man's thigh. Scaramouche covered up as much of himself as he could as Nicky blew into him, raining punches, kicks, and elbows down on him.

People were looking at Jake to step in and call it, but he didn't.

Scaramouche came up under everything that Nicky was throwing at him and hit him with an uppercut right on the chin. He'd taken the damage until Nicky got carried away and gave an opening, and then he'd gone for it. It staggered Nicky and rang his bell hard. If it had been a real UFC fight they might have called a knockout, because his one blue eye was not focusing. He was still standing.

Scaramouche came up and around with a roundhouse kick aimed
at the side of Nicky's head. Nathaniel's hand squeezed mine tight. Sin gasped. Nicky's hand was there just in time to keep the kick from connecting and to grab the leg and get a joint lock on the knee. Scaramouche dropped to the ground trying to unbalance Nicky, but the werelion had more mass and stayed firm. Scaramouche ended up with his hands on the mat as he swung his other long leg up in a kick for Nicky's face. Nicky didn't try to block it; he finished the joint lock. I heard the wet, meaty pop. Scaramouche screamed, even as his kick bloodied Nicky's mouth.

Jake stepped in then and stopped the fight. He helped Nicky lay Scaramouche on the mat. His leg was bent in a way that legs aren't meant to bend. Scaramouche was trying not to writhe in agony. He looked green with pain and was probably trying not to throw up.

Pierette knelt beside him. Hortensio stood glaring at Jake and Nicky. “What was that supposed to be?”

“That was not sparring,” Pierette said from where she knelt.

“No, it was a lesson,” Jake said, and his voice was as cold and threatening as I'd ever heard it.

“A lesson about what?” she demanded, holding Scaramouche's hand.

“That the Harlequin must learn to respect our new comrades in arms,” he said.

Scaramouche's voice was strained with pain. “They have not spent centuries earning our respect.”

Nicky took out his bloody mouth guard and said, “I'm fine with earning your respect by beating the shit out of you.”

“You are not king over me, lion,” he said between gritted teeth.

I'd walked out on the mat with Nathaniel shadowing me, though I'd made him drop my hand. Tempers were high, and I wanted both my hands free just in case. Magda and Sin were at my back. I wasn't sure how much help Sin would be, but the lioness at my back would make them think twice before doing something stupid in our direction. I'd have liked to think that I'd give them pause, but I knew better. Most of them considered me a poor substitute for their lost queen; no matter what my title was, I was just not good enough for some of the Harlequin.

“How about me? I'm supposed to be your queen,” I said.

“You are Jean-Claude's fiancée, but you are not a vampire. How can you rule us as one?”

“Anita is Nimir-Ra, to the wereleopards, too,” Nathaniel said. “She is Queen to Micah's Nimir-Raj.”

“She does not shift into leopard form; I will not acknowledge a Nimir-Ra who is trapped in human form,” Pierette said.

“She may not change shape, but she is still a necromancer and our new dark queen,” Jake said.

“No. No, she is not. She is not our dark mistress. It was luck that allowed her to drink down the power that was ours, and now she has given it to him.” She pointed a dramatic finger at Nicky.

“Not just him,” Magda said, in a low voice.

“No, all the Harlequin that sleep with you and Jean-Claude have kept their powers, or regained them,” Pierette said.

Hortensio made a sound that was half laugh and half snarl. “Scaramouche wanted to be your
moitié bête
, your rat to call, and your lover. He said he would show you what a true
moitié bête
can do for a queen. That boast is why your Bride crippled him.”

I glanced from Nicky to Jake. Nicky said, “Scaramouche bloodied me first. I just ended it.” I looked at Nicky for a minute. “Do you want him to think he can win you like a prize?”

I turned back to Scaramouche. “I'm sorry you're hurt, but even if you managed to take the crown from Rafael, your rat king, I would not make you my beast half, or my lover. If what you want is to be closer to Jean-Claude's throne and me, then hurting my lovers gains you nothing.”

Green with pain, his leg bent damn near backward, he glared up at me from his dark brown eyes with more anger than pain, and more arrogance than I'd have been able to manage if it had been me. “I would make a better king for the rats, and do not turn down what you have not tasted, for I know that what I would serve you would be far sweeter than anything you have had before.”

“Wow,” Sin said, “with four of us standing right here and you're going to insult all of us.”

“I know my worth,” Scaramouche said.

Hortensio said to Sin, “You are a boy. He”—motioning at Nathaniel—“is a catamount more skilled with men than women. The Rex is as brutal in bed as he is in the ring. No woman wants that kind of brutality.”

Nathaniel, Sin, and Nicky all laughed at the same time. I said, “You've got to know your audience, and you obviously don't.”

“What about me?” Magda asked.

“You are a woman,” Hortensio said. “You are not competition in this arena.”

I felt the warm rush of energy from her before the low, soft growl trickled from between her human lips. “You have always been a fool.”

Hortensio took a step toward her, which put him closer to me, but he was looking over my head at Magda. “Back up,” I said. He ignored me. I hit him with a short jab in the solar plexus. He'd been totally unprepared, so it took all the wind out of him and doubled him over. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled it down as I drove my knee up as fast and hard and as many times as I could. I'd caught him completely by surprise, so he never even tried to fight back. When I saw blood pouring over my leg and onto the mat, I shoved him away from me and he crumpled to his side on the floor. He didn't move. His lower face was a mass of blood so thick that I wasn't even sure how much damage I'd done. I knew his nose was broken. His eyes were open, but like after the punch that had staggered Nicky, they weren't focusing.

Pierette looked pale and a little less sure of herself. Scaramouche still looked angry and arrogant, in pain and nauseous, but there was something new in his dark eyes. I think it was uncertainty. He'd made his plans on the idea that I wouldn't be able to fight back. I think he was reevaluating that. Good.

“I am your queen, Hortensio; that means when I say back up, you back the fuck up!”

“I don't think he can hear you,” Sin said.

“Then Pierette and Scaramouche can repeat it to him later, right?” I said, looking at Pierette mostly.

She let go of Scaramouche's hand and knelt in front of me, putting her head to the floor in front of my feet; it was about as low a bow as
she could make. Her hands were politely back near her shoulders so that her head was the only thing near my feet. It was the real deal, but then she'd had centuries to practice bowing in all sorts of ways.