Page 130 of Thirst
He jumped back, evading the point aimed at his chest, but the edge kissed his deltoid, slicing through his white shirt and into his skin, delivering a jolt of silver to his system.
He grunted, spun, and came back at me a breath too late. I dipped right and he staggered past me. He recovered quickly and pivoted toward me with a snarl.
Around us, the circle erupted in jeers and cheers, but I barely registered it.
I could win this fight. That wasn’t ego but an assessment born from years of sparring with Talon and Brien and the castle’s old guard—Prosper, Donald and others. Nazaire might be two centuries old, steeped in power and politics, but I’d bet it was a long time since he’d engaged in a challenge.
He hadn’t expected my hungry, streetwise way of fighting, and it was costing him.
I came at him again, a flying kick to his stomach. When he staggered backward, I sliced his cheek. Blood flowed down his face, darkening his silk collar.
He hissed and bared his fangs, attacking me in a flurry of movements that only another vampire could’ve countered. I danced and spun, our blades clashing, the dull clang of silver on silver the only sound in the now silent cemetery.
His blade got past my guard. I knocked it away at the last second and slid past him, both of us breathing hard now.
I shot left—and slipped on the icy grass, dropping to one knee. Nazaire launched himself at me, dagger aimed at my chest.
Instinct took over. I threw myself to the side, blade gripped in both hands and thrust upward. Nazaire was a beat too slow. The point of his dagger whistled past my chest, hit a frozen patch of earth and skittered out of his hand.
But my dagger found its mark, sliding beneath his ribcage and deep into his heart.
Nazaire’s face twisted in shocked disbelief.
My smile was all white teeth and fangs. “You lose, Enforcer.”
He spat something in French.
I pushed to my feet and wrenched the blade free. He swayed on his feet, blood and smoke pouring from the gaping wound. Black fire crawled over him, consuming him from the inside out. A final burst of heat and light tore through him.
He dropped to the frozen ground like a felled tree.
Nyx came to her feet, one hand pressed to her mouth.
Brien and Talon were at my side a moment later, clapping me on the back. I nodded, accepting their congratulations, my gaze on Nyx.
Mine, I mouthed.
Her hand fell away, and she gave me a smile that trembled at the edges. Then she glanced at her sire’s body, crumbling to ash and charred bone, and the small smile vanished.
I guess she still felt something for the bastard, even after everything. The man had never understood what he had in her.
At my side, Brien raised my hand, proclaiming me the winner of the challenge. The Maritime vampires let out a cheer.
Brien grabbed me in a one-armed hug. “Thank you,” he said for my ears only. “For my mother’s sake.”
I shook my head, uncomfortable. “Fuck your thanks. I did it for all of us.”
“Thanks anyway,” he said and released me.
Nyx shot across the graveyard, tears streaming down her face—but smiling again. She was still a couple of meters away when she launched herself at me.
I opened my arms and caught her.
36
Nyx
It was done. I gulped in oxygen, my emotions a tangle of relief and sorrow and joy.
