Shadow's Claim (49 page)

In an obvious bid to do just that, he shook his head again. He nearly reeled before he regained his balance. He seemed confused, his feet sluggish in the thick mud.

He’s getting worse.

She turned to Cas. He was seething, his horns ramrod straight, his fangs swollen. He unsheathed his sword, gripping it tightly, his arm muscles bulging. His friends in the stands yelled, antagonizing him even more.

Daciano ran his sleeve over his eyes, then again, as if his sight had been dimmed. When he drew his own weapon, he staggered once more.

The gate clanged shut for the last time. Before Bettina could say a word, Raum gave his signal. And she was helpless yet again as the horn sounded its final blare—

Cas attacked immediately, his sword flashing out. Daciano could barely deflect the hit in time. Their swords clanged loudly, the metallic pitch ringing out in the night.

Cas struck again; Daciano managed a lethargic block. The vampire’s reflexes were deteriorating even more, while Cas was faster, stronger, than she could have imagined—

With a sudden lunge, Cas thrust his sword straight out, like an extension of his brawny arm. Too late, Daciano reared his head back; the blade tip caught his cheek, flaying the skin open.

At that moment, moonlight hit the vampire’s face, illuminating ghostly white bone before blood welled.

Daciano evinced no expression—no pain, anger, confusion—just vacantness as blood flowed down his face.

Cas followed that parry with another lightning fast strike; a deep laceration appeared on the vampire’s sword arm.

As Bettina gaped at this turn of events, Morgana calmly observed, “Only a matter of time now, freakling.”

“No, no, the vampire will shake this off!” she said, feigning confidence she didn’t feel. Daciano looked like he could barely control his heavy eyelids—much less what was happening in the ring. “Y-you know how strong he is.”

With a mindblowing ferocity, Cas swung his sword high, using both hands to deliver a brutal strike; Daciano lifted his sword overhead to defend.

Again their blades clanged, metal scraping metal. Sparks rained down over Daciano’s head, highlighting his sweating, bloody countenance.

Pressing his advantage, Cas whaled hit after hit, as if swinging an ax at a chopping block.

The spate of furious blows drove Daciano down . . . down. . . .

When the vampire’s knees sank into the mire and confusion registered on his proud face, Bettina realized two things.

She was in love with him.

And she’d do anything to save him.

Sword quaking in my hands, metal pealing in my ears, mud sucking me down.

Caspion hammering at me.

“Know defeat, vampire! Delivered unto you—by a demon!”

Must shake this weakness!
Yet nothing could pierce Trehan’s stupor. His peripheral vision was still obscured by blood, his equilibrium wrecked.

His disordered mind finally accepted the truth: he’d been . . . poisoned. Likely by the coward who was even now striving to take his head.

But how could Caspion have dosed him before the round? Trehan had only been around his cousins and Bettina.

The hits . . . ceased? Like a blur, the demon began tracing around him, cleverly keeping to his blind spots. Trehan struggled to rise. For her, he would fight on.
Everything I desire is here for the taking
—

Suddenly, steel pressed against his throat. From behind, Caspion had him dead to rights.

Or so the demon thinks.

At last, adrenaline began spiking throughout Trehan’s veins to burn away the toxin. Power flowed into his muscles, his body rebounding with the strength of the Daci.

Now you’ve irritated me, whelp.
Trehan bared his fangs.
Gods, I’m going to enjoy teaching you a lesson.
“The fight’s not over, boy. You forget what I am—”

“I plead mercy!” Bettina cried.

What?
Too soon, Bett!
The crowd grew hushed. He twisted his head around to glimpse her face.

“I plead mercy for the Prince of Shadow.”

Trehan’s breath left him. She’d just invoked the clause . . .

For
me
? Disqualifying
me
from the tournament?
No, no, he’d misheard. His mind was unclear. She had
not
just taken herself out of his reach forever.

After the night they’d shared? After all he’d sacrificed?
A mea!
She wouldn’t do this.
She knows how much I want her.

Caspion leaned down to sneer, “I didn’t forget what you are. You’re a loser,
disqualified
from the tournament. I told you she’d never be your wife!”

Now she would be this demon’s?

Caspion laughed. “Go back to your lonely home in the ground, old man.”

I have no fucking home! Gave up everything for her!
And she was
always
going to be with Caspion.

Were they in league together—

Realization struck him like a mace to the throat. Bettina had handed him a goblet of blood less than half an hour ago.
Here, Trehan. Drink.
She possessed an extensive arsenal of poisons.

Not Bettina. It couldn’t be her.

Who else, you fool?
His cousins would never stoop so low. Even Stelian had too much honor for that. And hadn’t Bettina been wearing her customary poison ring earlier? He’d thought the taste of the blood was off, thought yet again that he’d been ruined by the ambrosia flowing through her veins.

The ambrosia she’d denied him last night.

His fangs shot longer, gone sharp as razors. All the aggression Trehan had vigilantly harnessed over ages came howling to life inside him—a ravening beast rising for carnage.

With a bellow, he gripped the end of Caspion’s sword. The blade sliced his hand, blood gushing as he snatched it away from the stunned demon. Tracing to his feet, Trehan hurled the weapon to the far edge of the ring.

As the demon gawked, Trehan sheathed his own
sword, wanting to deal this death personally.
To feel bone breaking and skin rending between my fingers.

Even as the toxin was seared away, his thoughts grew even more jumbled, a tangled snarl in his mind.
She will never be mine, will always want the male before me.

He threw back his head and roared, fists clenched until his arm and chest muscles knotted. As the sound died in his throat, he gazed at Bettina, at her pale face.
You want Caspion so badly? I’ll give you his fucking head!

When he turned to face his prey, a bloodred haze covered Trehan’s vision.
Kill.

For the first time in his long, wearying existence, he fully gave himself over to rage.

D
aciano had become a creature possessed, with more fury even than the Lykae—and far less reason.

He told me he’d rip Cas apart with his bare hands.

Already the vampire had fractured Cas’s right arm and pummeled his head and face with bone-shattering hits. Cas’s visage was unrecognizable, his left eye a swollen pulp; blood streamed from his mouth.

In a desperate bid to retrieve his sword, Cas lunged into a clumsy trace, diving for it; Daciano predicted his move—and backhanded him across the ring.

Cas went flying, crashing into the mud, sending a wave of it up and over the first row of spectators.

The vampire followed, snatching Cas by a horn, dragging him to his knees to deliver more vicious blows.

“Oh, dear gods,” Bettina muttered. “This isn’t happening.” She’d thought Cas could recover, or that
Daciano would see reason. “Please stop them, Morgana!” Her godmother ignored her, leaning forward, riveted by the battle.

“Raum!” Bettina cried.

“What do the rules state about this, m’girl?” he said. “You’ve called mercy—what more can we do?”

“I don’t know!”

As Cas struggled to free himself, delivering futile hits to Daciano’s body, the vampire bared his fangs, stark white against his bloody face. A chilling predator’s smile.

He’s reached his limit.

Obviously Bettina had screwed up; she’d thought she was saving his life, never imagining that he could shake off such a severe dose.

When she’d pled mercy, Daciano’s expression of stunned realization had transformed into one of pure hatred. The savagery in his onyx eyes . . . He must believe that she’d cheated him out of the tournament win—in favor of the demon before him.

She’d only wanted to protect Daciano. And now Cas was going to pay for her mistake if she didn’t intervene.

“I have rarely in all my long years seen a being dominate a match like this,” Raum said to Morgana. “It calls to mind the legends. Does it not?”

“Indeed. Lachlain, Demestriu, Furie, the Enemy of Old.”

Agreeing with each other? In a conversational tone? What was happening here—why was no one else freaking out?

Daciano picked Cas up bodily, launching him across the cage like a missile. When Cas connected
with the bars, one of the spikes embedded itself into the base of his skull,
breaking off inside it
.

Bettina gave a sob as Cas moaned mindlessly, swinging wildly—the spike had . . . blinded him? Still, he struggled to defend himself as Daciano snatched his matted hair.

The vampire’s fist smashed Cas’s face with another series of crushing blows, over and over, as Bettina begged,
“No, no, no!”

Then came the final hit. She heard the crack of bone. Mud splashed up Cas’s body when he collapsed to his back. Limp.

Sprawled in the mud, broken, Cas didn’t move again.

The vampire loomed over him and unsheathed his sword. She could never reach the ring in time—

“You’re about to lose both of them,” Morgana said. “One dead—and one never to be forgiven.” To Raum, she suggested, “Do send in the guards, demon. They might be able to keep the vampire busy long enough to smuggle Caspion’s body away.”

Raum glanced at Bettina. When she gave a desperate nod, he signaled the troop at the ready.

At once, they traced into the ring, swords drawn, surrounding Daciano.

Like an animal guarding a kill, the vampire positioned himself in front of Cas. His fangs dripped blood, his muscles rippling with raw power.

When the guards charged as one, he reared up with a deafening roar. The sound reverberated like thunder, shaking the arena, the very city.

Demons in the crowd held their ears.

With ungodsly strength and speed, he batted the
guards away, felling them one by one—until each was left crawling or unconscious in the filth.

“There went that plan!” Morgana said with a shrug. “Freakling, only one person can stop this now.”

“Who?!”

The sorceress smiled widely, taking a deep, dramatic breath. “The Queen of Hearts.”

Me?
Bettina’s lips parted. Could she use her power against the male she loved? The vampire who’d claimed her body—less than twenty-four hours ago?

I made his heart beat, and now I’m to stop it? Even if briefly?

“Vampire, don’t do this!” she cried, desperate not to hurt him. “Please,
no
!”

He bared his fangs at her, gave a bloody hiss, then turned back to his prey, so clearly wanting to murder Cas.

If she didn’t act, Bettina
would
lose both of them. “You leave me no choice,” she said, raising her hands. Power amplified inside her like a building storm. Tears poured down her face as she aimed it at the vampire, unleashing utter agony—

He recoiled as if lightning struck. Then he lurched, clutching his chest.

When he swung his head around at her, his hair whipped over his bloody cheek. She could see comprehension dawning on his ghastly face, accusation in his rage-black eyes.

He cast her a look so murderous that she flinched.

Resisting her hold over him, the vampire yelled to the crowd, “Mark me, and listen well! I’ve won this tournament. . . . No one here can deny my victory. . . . I’ve won this crown”—he pointed his bloodied sword
at her—“and Bettina as my wife.” Claws digging into his chest, lungs failing, he bellowed,
“I forsake you both!”