Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
He needed a release. One that made him bleed.
“Batboy, hit me.”
Lucy’s eyes narrowed, his lip lifting into a snarl. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Other than the obvious.”
Kace didn’t bother asking again, instead his fist smacked against Lucy’s jaw. Bone crunched, the sound satisfying amongst the silence of the surrounding grove. It was the rush, the adrenaline as Kace stood and accepted Lucifer’s hit, savouring the quick shock of pain that burst in his nose.
“Your face is like a fucking stone wall, you psycho bastard,” Lucy groaned, flexing his fingers. “At least take me to dinner first. Wine and dine me before you try and fuck me.”
Kace touched his nose, the cartilage broken. He carefully moved it back into place, knowing it would be fully healed by tomorrow. “Sorry, you’re not my type.”
“I don’t know why the fuck I stay,” Lucy grunted, yanking off his t-shirt to swipe the blood from his lip. “You’re all arseholes.”
“We don’t keep you here, you can leave.”
Lucy’s head snapped to the side, his red eyes glowing. “And go where?”
It was the first time Kace had noticed Lucy’s façade slip. The Daemon was powerful, but right then he looked almost vulnerable. Lucifer was a friend, or at least slightly more than an acquaintance. The only Daemon Kace didn’t want to rip the head off, well, most of the time anyway. He had chosen to help them rather than his own kind, and while he was freed from the chains that kept him below in The Nether, he seemed lost up on the surface.
He no longer looked like a Daemon, other than his eyes which he preferred to keep for the shock factor. He looked just as they did, his skin no longer grey but a warm brown that only complimented the black of his hair. His horns and wings were hidden, only appearing when he was provoked. Even his tattoos, runes that they all bore were so similar to the Guardians despite being hundreds of years old, if not older. He was covered, the sharp lines and curves of the markings a reflection of his lifetime as a druid, before he changed into the Breed the Guardians were created to destroy.
“You’re so bloody impulsive,” he said with a click of his tongue.
Kace couldn’t argue with that. Lucy’s presence infuriated his beast, and before he would have shifted and gone for the kill. The fact he hadn’t while rage burned through his veins like fire proved he had the control, and he could save Hunter from the same horrors he had suffered as a child.
A curse cut through the silence, grass crushed beneath heavy boots. Titus pulled at his hair, yanking strands away from his face. “You guys cool?” he asked, snaking his attention between them both.
Kace wanted to bite back, to act like the arsehole they expected when he was in a mood. Except he didn’t, instead clinging onto the pain from his broken nose. It allowed him to breathe, to think clearly. He was so fucking damaged he wanted to laugh.
“Of course, we’re cool,” Lucy said, picking at his brightly painted nails with a bored expression. “Psycho here was just showing me the size of his fist. It’s impressive by the way, eight out of ten for the knuckles. One out of ten for the bloody warning.”
Titus’s lips tightened, eyes narrowed when they met Kace’s. “You good?”
Lucy appeared at his side, leaving a cushion of air between them. “Of course he’s good, look at him. I just punched him in the face without getting eaten, now that’s progress.”
Kace met the red of Lucy’s irises, brow raised. His beast roared at the Daemon being so close, but not as loud as it was before. “I’m good.”
Titus patted his chest, right above where he had been sliced almost in half. “Good, now you set up a needle and fix the glyphs that have healed weird, and I’ll tell you everything I’ve discovered about those snakes that run the Pits.”
Chapter13
Eva
Eva tried to ignore the lecherous gaze of the man sat on the other side of the small table. She seemed to have finally mastered the statue stillness of other vampires, every muscle in her body solid.
“Tell me more about this special event,” he asked, his eyes dipping to her breasts. She would have crossed her arms, but she didn’t want to direct any more attention back to her. In the three meetings Augustine had had, this was the first he made her join him on the leather sofas. Before then she had been dancing in the corner of the office, a freestanding pole set up beside his desk. At first she was disgusted, but after a while she lost herself in the familiar movements.
“You’ve been a loyal spectator for a long time, Mac. I thought maybe you would want to have a more personal stake in my games, a fighter that stands just for you,” Augustine said, sipping the whisky from his glass. “These games are only for the most generous of clients, and will have three rounds over three days, as well as the usual shows you have come to love. We predict this to be a success, and that it’ll become an annual event.”
The man known as Mac licked at his lips, his fangs prominent before finally looking over to meet Augustine’s smile. “You have my attention. What’s the buy in to become a sponsor?”
“One-hundred thousand.” When Mac began to laugh Augustine added, “per fighter. We want to make this exclusive. We’re a reputable business, after all.”
“That will definitely make it fucking exclusive,” Mac said at the end of his chuckle.
“We don’t want to invite just anyone to join us,” Dutch said as the door to the office opened. “I’m sorry I was late, I had… business to attend to.” He winked at Eva as he took the space beside her, sandwiched between the two. He wore a suit, identical to Augustine’s except it looked like a costume, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
