Page 72 of Nightshade

“I care for him,” I croaked.

“The way any of us might care for a vegetable garden or a grocery store.”

My lips parted. I didn’t know what to say to that. Thinking about Leo, it felt like more, but maybe Viktor was right. Ivan said we weren’t capable of feeling the way that mortals did. Maybe all of this was just self-preservation, and I was every bit as wicked as Ivan. I just wasn’t as good at it.

“This . . . isn’t a conversation for you and me to have,” I muttered. If I was going to set my mind in order, someone who hated what I was wouldn’t be the person to help me. “But you and I know better than anyone else what we’re up against, so what can I do to keep the pack safe?”

“Fight me.”

I grimaced. As much as I wanted to help, I dreaded letting a werewolf who hated me toss me around.

Viktor crossed his arms. “I’ve fought beside a vampire, but never against one. I need to know what you’re capable of.”

“Fine. I’m not as strong as Ivan is, but if it’ll help, I’ll fight you. We should . . . in front of the others.” For educational purposes, obviously. I was only slightly concerned that Viktor would kill me out here alone.

His lips twitched; he knew precisely what I was thinking. “Of course.”

I followed him back to the porch like I was marching to my own funeral dirge.

“We’re going to spar,” he announced to the others on the porch.

“Oh!” Evie grinned and threw a leg over the porch railing to watch.

Prudence tipped her head to the side and looked me over. “Is it true a vampire’s sire drains them dry to make them? This Ivan fed you his own blood.”

I nodded.

“Wonderful,” she said. “Then if you happen to bleed, I can at least cast a scrying spell that’ll warn you if Ivan steps foot in your territory.”

“You only need my blood for that?”

She shrugged. “Darling, even I’m unused to dealing with vampires, but I don’t see why I couldn’t make it work.”

Just the prospect was worth trying. “Give me a second.”

I went into the kitchen and asked Katya if I could use a knife and borrow one of her cups. I slit my wrist and let my blood flow into the cup for a moment. I hoped she didn’t need much, because my skin stitched back together quickly, as well fed as I’d been, and I didn’t much like the too familiar image of my golden-brown skin slitting beneath the edge of a sharp blade, so I didn’t want to do it again, let alone repeatedly.

With a few ounces in the cup, I brought it back outside and passed it to Prudence, whose eyebrows shot high. “Thank you,” she said, sounding a little unsure about being handed a cup of blood.

“Let me know if you need more.”

To his credit, Viktor looked me over to ensure I wasn’t wounded before he spread his arms in an invitation to attack him.

My first attempt, he easily sidestepped. He gave a heavy, annoyed sigh. “You have to try, Altair, or there’s no point.”

We fought then, and he was fast, but not as fast as I expected. More than once, I got my fangs near his neck. I didn’t bite him, didn’t even scrape my teeth against his skin to prove a point.

When I got the better of him, I froze and stepped back. His glare got more and more furious, but even when he threw his fists harder, I didn’t think he was in a fight with me.

There was some other battle Viktor was trapped in that I didn’t understand. His fear of Ivan?

I caught his fist once, stopped it easily. I’d felt Leo’s arms around me. Werewolves were strong, but for some reason, Viktor was holding back too. I’d only just cocked my head curiously when he growled and swept his leg out, knocking my own from under me and sending me back onto the ground.

I groaned, and when I opened my eyes, Leo was standing there above me, on the side of house coming from where they’d been working on the big house.

He scowled. “What are you doing?”

“Just sparring,” I said with a broad grin. I didn’t want him to worry, and frankly, it was nice to have him there. Viktor might hate me, but he wasn’t going to tear my head off in front of his brother.