Shadow's Claim (48 page)

“Eşti a mea, Bettina!”
He gripped her shoulders, bringing her face close to his. “You are already mine. Forever, you belong
to me
!”

She remembered something else Salem had said:
The cold ones go big.
“Vampire, be practical. The people might take cues from me and back you more than they already do.” No one to cheer for Caspion? He’d fought hard to advance this far in the tournament, risking his life repeatedly—he’d
earned
some consideration.

And he’s about to lose so much.

“Your people
should
take cues from you.”

“What I mean is that everyone will think I’m siding with you over Cas.”
Perception is reality.

“You are!”

She shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is! Then you’re
not
choosing me over him?”

The vampire’s already driving the wedge!
“Don’t put it like that! And don’t put my back against the wall over this!” Bettina would be damned if they set this precedent.
With your actions, you train others how to treat you.
“Cas will have a place in my future—resign yourself.”

“Do you or don’t you choose me?”

“You’re not being fair to me, and you’re not
hearing
me!” He seemed to interpret everything she said as:
I want Cas.
“I choose
both
of you—for different things. Trehan, I can’t turn my back on him just because of how I feel about you—”

“Not good enough!” he snapped. In a softer tone, he added, “There will be only one male in your life—me. Tonight in the ring, I will
explain
this to Caspion. By the time his bones mend, he’ll fear ever to look at you again.”

“Enough!” she cried. “What is wrong with you?”
Where is my tender, gentle vampire from last night?
“You’re about to get
everything
—this victory, your Bride, the entire kingdom. Cas gets nothing! And now you want to grind him under your boot? In front of our people? I won’t have it! Show some compassion!”

“You feel that for him!” The vampire grasped her nape, studying her face with eyes gone black as pitch. “What other feelings linger?”

“Of course I feel compassion for him! We’ve shared years of friendship.”

“It’s
my
right to win this night!”

“Yes, it is—but that doesn’t mean you have to crush my best friend to do it.”

“One day, Bettina, I will reach my limit with this.” He brushed her hair back, then straightened her mask. His touch was tender even as his words were harsh: “You’d best make your plea ring out, lest I rip him apart with these hands.” Then he traced away.

S
till shaken by Daciano’s behavior, Bettina had found Raum and hastily explained the clause. He’d been bemused but accepting, deferring to her in everything—as if she were already queen.

As if he couldn’t wait to have another rule. It was a little unnerving.

Next, Bettina set out to find Cas, locating him near the entrance to the sanctum. His rowdy friends were pumping him up, punching his torso as they yelled encouragement: “Gut that fucking leech!” “A pair of fangs to start your collection!” They rammed his horns, spurring his aggression, his instinctive need for a fresh kill.

“I have to talk to you, Cas.”

He traced over. “What is it? I’m about to go in.”

There was no easy way to put this. “What if I told you there was a mercy clause in the rules, an out for one of the contestants?”

“What are you talking about?”

“If Daciano gets you at sword point, then I can plead mercy, sparing your life. But it will disqualify you from the tournament.”

Cas’s eyes went wild. “Don’t you dare use that for me!”

“Just wait—”

“Do you think I have no honor?”

“It isn’t like that!”

Gripping her arm, he traced her out of earshot of his friends. “I was born with
nothing
—I’ve worked so damned hard to get where I am, risking my life again and again. Would you cut me down just when I’m at my highest? You would humiliate me like that?”

“You’re my best friend. I can’t let you die.”

“Don’t do this.” He pinched his forehead. “I think . . . I think I would grow to hate you.”

“Hate? Do you really want this to be the end of your life? To die at twenty-five? For a female you’re not even in love with?”

“Tina, I know you’ve gotten attached to the vampire. Dear gods, I can scent him on you.”

She flushed, averting her gaze.

“But I would rather die with honor than lose that way.”

“I won’t let that happen. I have watched round after round, sitting helpless on the sidelines while you and the vampire risked your lives. At last I can do something to help you.”

“Help me—against
him
of all people? Daciano?”

Yes, Salem, apparently I
was
deluding myself about them.
She’d never known two males who hated each other so bitterly—and who had so little reason to.

“Worry more for him, sorceress!” Cas snapped, angrier
than she’d ever seen him. “I will take him out. I
cannot
lose.”

Where was this confidence coming from? “Did you not witness the vampire against the primordial? Be realistic. Daciano has so many years on you.”

“That won’t matter, not when I use his weakness against him.”

“What weakness? He doesn’t have any.”

“
Everyone
has a weakness,” Cas insisted. “You must let this play out! I’m a death demon fighting for my honor—I’m going to prove myself to all of them!”

“He’s a thousand-year-old Dacian fighting for his fated Bride. I got you into this, Cas. I’m going to do what I have to in order to get you out of it.” With that, she left him to his friends, a pack of demons yelling for Cas to slay a vampire.

Trehan had regretted his harsh words almost as soon as he’d said them. He’d returned to the tent, but Bettina had already gone.

She’d accused him of not hearing her, and she was likely right. Just the mention of that demon’s name had sent him into a rage.

He exhaled a long breath. He should have explained his situation to her:

I am exhausted, Bettina, drained of blood, and my mind is not well. Today, I’ve learned that Dacia will definitely have a new king, and for the first time in a millennium, I am certain it won’t be me. I’ve made sacrifices to have a life with you, and so I unreasonably expected you to bow to my will without question.

He would tell her this tonight before the ceremony, smoothing things over. And once they were wed, he would take her repeatedly, savoring more of the bliss she’d given him last night. At the memory of her abandon, even his blood-starved body stirred for more.

Except for her hesitation over his bite, she’d surrendered herself fully, satisfying him in untold ways. The final time he’d taken her, he’d gazed down at her face and a truth had struck him:
Bettina este viaţă.

Bettina is life.
He could never go back to the way he was before.

Tonight, after he’d claimed his wife, he would force himself to drink and sleep, and then finally his thoughts would clear.
They can’t get worse.

Nothing made sense today. His temper lay ever at the ready, his mood foul. His body was weakened, his head dizzy.
Something is
off
with me.

Was it because he hadn’t marked her? According to the physiology book, a vampire needed to pierce his mate.

But he wasn’t just a vampire. He was still
Dacian
.

Right now, he wished he wasn’t. Trehan never would have thought that he’d envy a maddened red-eyed vampire like Lothaire, one who’d apparently taken his Bride’s neck as he’d claimed her.

Binding her to him.
Lothaire obeyed instinct; Trehan resisted it.

The Enemy of Old was healing;
I’m backsliding.

Trehan felt . . . ill. His throat burned, and his tongue seemed thick, sticking to the roof of his mouth. His lightheadedness was turning into a pounding headache, even as numbness spread through his limbs.

Just get this fight over with.
Everything he desired, everything that belonged to him, was there for the taking. He was so godsdamned close, only needed to go seize it.

He gazed in the direction of the ring.
My prize awaits with widened eyes.

Ready for his match, Trehan squared his shoulders, the movement sending him atilt.

He realized something was definitely wrong . . . when he traced to the sanctum . . . and collided face-first into a wall.

O
ne doesn’t have to be a sorceress to sense the night’s portentous atmosphere,” Morgana murmured from her seat on the dais.

Bettina agreed. As Raum greeted the crowd, she gazed over the arena. The rain today had left the ring a red-clay mire. Coils of fog slithered around the cage, oozing from the ground and weaving through the bars.

The full moon riddled the haze with wavering spears of light.

When Raum announced the competitors, the crowd cheered, but their reaction was muted, as if they sensed the ominous air as well.

Caspion and Daciano entered the ring then, tracing over the mud. At this point, she just wanted the two to be safe. She’d deal with the fallout later.

While Raum continued his announcements—about the midnight wedding ceremony, the forthcoming
kingdomwide holidays to celebrate, and so on—Bettina studied the vampire.

In each round, he’d been the picture of coldness. Eyes intent, expression focused. A male bent on a single task.

Now sweat dotted his brow and tracked down his temples. His pupils were dilated, and the finest lines of blood streaked from the corners of his eyes.

When he shook his head hard, nearly losing his balance, Bettina’s hand shot to Morgana’s arm. “Look at the vampire!”

“What is it?”

“Look at his eyes.”

She squinted. “Oh, for the love of gold! You have to be kidding me.”

“He’s been poisoned!” Bettina hissed. She knew the symptoms as well as the next Sorceress.

Morgana gave an astonished laugh. “Your wastrel got clever.”

“No! Cas wouldn’t have done this,” she said, even as she recalled his unwarranted confidence.

Tomorrow night’s his last. . . . I cannot lose. . . . I’ll use his weakness against him. . . .

“Perhaps Caspion and another planned this?” Morgana sliced her gaze over to Raum.

Cheating is rampant.
Was that what the two of them had been talking about last night? Poisoning wasn’t outside of the rules.

Then comprehension dawned. It had to be Daciano’s cousins who’d done this! He’d told her that all of them were forever trying to kill each other, and they’d been in his tent earlier.

“Your vampire’s been given something very potent,”
Morgana observed. “On a scale from one to five—five being the rare toxin that could actually kill an immortal—I’d put him at four.”

“
Four?
What do I do? What
can
I do?”

“Hope he can rebound from such a strong dose.”