Page 128 of Thirst
Did he really think I’d go down easy?
Nazaire halted at a rectangle of frostbitten earth. His men fanned out, forming a ring around us. Adrian put Perla down on a bench and draped the throw around her shoulders.
Nyx cupped my face with both hands. “I love you.”
My breath snagged. I caught her by the nape and took her mouth in a hard kiss.
“If this goes sideways,” I said, “run to Talon. He’ll take you somewhere safe.”
She just looked back at me.
That’s when it hit me—we’d mated. If I lost, I’d probably take her down with me. The shock to her system would be that great. And if she did survive, she’d be a hollowed-out shell of herself, like Brien’s father after losing Lenore.
Fear squeezed my heart.
Her eyes darkened, and I realized she could feel it—my emotions bleeding into her the same way hers bled into me. She knew exactly how terrified I was for her.
She was afraid, too, but underneath was an unshakable confidence in me.
In us.
I swallowed hard.
Her fingers brushed my cheek. “You won’t lose.”
I forced a nod, projecting confidence with everything I had. Not because I believed victory was guaranteed, but because I refused to let her see the doubt clawing at me.
She gave me a last kiss and joined Perla on the bench.
Beside me, Talon stirred. “So, which blade are you using?”
“This one.” I drew out my favorite, a long silver beauty that I’d used to stake both the guard and my opponent in the great room. A blood-red ruby, big as my thumbnail, shone in the ebony handle. Brien’s parents had gifted it to me the day I’d become a made man in their syndicate.
He nodded approvingly. “Good choice.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed the pad of my thumb over the ruby. “It seemed fitting.” I didn’t add that I’d hoped it would come to a challenge, but I’m sure Talon guessed that part.
“I’ll hold the others.”
He held out a hand, and I passed over my switchblade and the other dagger. I’d agreed to one blade only. If the remaining dagger broke or was taken, I’d have to fight with fangs and claws.
Nazaire shrugged out of his suit coat, passing it and two daggers to his friend Maxime. He rolled his sleeves to the elbow, deliberate, unhurried, then lifted the blade he’d kept. Silver gleamed wickedly along its edge, the stainless handle carved with curling script that looked torn from some ancient book of magic.
Talon tapped his fist to mine and growled, “Now go take that fucker out.”
“That’s the plan.” I looked past him to where Nazire watched me, his lizard-like eyes unblinking.
I let the corner of my mouth lift—a slow, deliberate mockery, the kind that said I wasn’t impressed.
Talon joined the ring of vampires and dhampirs surrounding us, taking a spot opposite Brien and Twilight. Maxime remained in the center, ready to start the challenge.
I stole one last look at Nyx. She sat close beside Perla, an arm looped protectively around her friend’s shoulders. Wisps of red had escaped her braid, curling around her face and throat. Beneath her straight-cut bangs, her brow was furrowed, her lips pressed into a line.
Even like this—tense, worried—she was beautiful, somehow both strong and fairylike at the same time. A firefly at dusk.
She caught me looking and smiled, quick and real. The tiny diamond in her nose twinkled at me.
I found myself winking back.
