Ione Larissa

Vampire Fight Club

LARISSA IONE

Vampire Fight Club

Chapter 1

Blood. Violence. Sex. Cheering crowds.

None of it fazed Nathan Sabine anymore. If someone had told him a hundred years ago that he’d be completely numb to the gladiatorial battle taking place in the hockey rink-sized arena below his VIP booth, he’d have ripped out their throat with his teeth.

Hell, that still sounded like a good plan.

Instead, he was watching a hyena shifter rip out the throat of another hyena shifter. Should have been the same-old, same-old, but one of the males hadn’t shifted out of his human form.

Which was why the male had been at a serious disadvantage, and why he was now bleeding out in the sand.

Nate didn’t give a shit why the guy had wanted to fight this battle, but he had to have known he couldn’t win. The fool. No amount of money was worth dying for. Nothing was worth that.

Turning his back on the bloodthirsty roar of the spectators, Nate strode out of the private viewing box reserved for club personnel and wondered if it was possible to hate himself more than he did right now. Doubtful. He might be anesthetized to everything outside his body, but inside, he was a seething cauldron of self-loathing. Sometimes he thought that if he wasn’t a daywalker, a rare vampire who could tolerate natural light, he’d step out into the sun and end it all.

And wasn’t he a hypocrite of epic proportions, given that he’d just wondered why the hyena non-shifter had given up his life.

He took the stairs down into the commons, where people sought refreshments and placed bets while they waited for the next death match. At one time, the sour stench of their excitement and greed had turned his stomach. Now it was like any other unpleasant odor the nose learned to ignore. Lately, though, the stink was stronger, the result of a command from the big boss to step up the number of fights—and the brutality—in order to maintain pace with the unrest in the underworld. Fade was desperate to keep paying spectators coming to the club instead of enjoying the violence elsewhere for free.

The crowd parted for Nate, some whispering his name as he passed. An ugly-ass, gray-skinned demon male near the pit railing asked when Nate was going to fight again, and Nate swung around, his black hair snapping about his shoulders, his fangs bared.

“You volunteering to get in the pit with me, demon? Because I’m itching to put another set of antlers on my wall.”

The normally inaudible beat of music from the dance club upstairs rang clear enough in the sudden silence to identify the artist.

The demon cleared his beefy throat as Goldfrappe Ooh La La’d its way to the end of the song. “Another time, perhaps.”

“That’s what I thought.” Nate hadn’t been in the arena in nearly seven decades, and these morons still wanted to see him fight—as long as he fought someone else. No one ever volunteered to step into the pit with him.

He sliced through the throng and slipped past the two guards who kept the general public out of the tunnel separating Gladius from Thirst, the respectable half of the club complex. He’d only gone about ten yards and taken the first corner when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Boss.”

Nate stopped but didn’t turn around. “What, Gunnar?”

“The body, sir.” The hulking werewolf ’s voice was little more than a rumble in the shadowy hall.

“Why are you asking me? Where’s Budag?”

“He went out.”

Budag, who had once been Attila the Hun’s right-hand man, was the only person besides the club owner who outranked Nate, but the asshole was hardly ever around. Nate had no idea what the demon in human clothing did in his spare time, but he certainly seemed to have a lot of it.

Exhaling on a curse, Nate looked up at the flickering fluorescents on the ceiling. “The male is a shifter. You know the rules.”

Usually the dead were fed to the creatures that were kept either as bait for training or for actual gladiatorial matches, but a few species, including most shifters, could bond so strongly to a mate that after death, the surviving partner would be driven to find them. The club couldn’t afford for some grieving, pissed-off female to track down the male’s remains and cause trouble.

“Yes, sir.”

Nate continued down the hall and up a flight of cement stairs. A casual observer who arrived at the narrow landing would see only a monitor mounted on a textured black wall. Nate checked the grainy screen, and after he’d ensured that no one was inside his office, he pushed on the wall, opening a hidden doorway.

From the office side, the door appeared to be nothing more than a sturdy wine rack, and it made a whisper of a click as it closed. Only Thirst’s top management knew that this was one of two entrances from the dance club to the fight club. Most of Thirst’s employees weren’t even aware that behind and underneath the most popular vampire bar in North America, was the most popular blood arena in the human realm.

Nate had known for over a hundred years. He’d known, and he’d planned to take it down. And he would, when the time was right.

Self-loathing slithered through him again, because he’d been singing that tune for decades. So many right times had come and gone, and he’d done nothing. His interest had been as dead as his heart.

Cursing himself, he slammed out of the front door of his office and into another hallway, this one brightly lit, the walls plastered with gaudy murals depicting scenes of various underworld creatures getting their grooves on under disco balls. His shoes sank into the plush crimson carpet as he strode toward the club’s public area. The music grew louder as he walked, throbbing through him like a pulse and granting him the illusion, at least, that he was alive.

Once he went through the swinging door at the end of the hall, he was immediately assaulted by sultry heat, glaring, colored lights streaming in the darkness, and all the erotic sounds that went with a place like this. The lower level was a mass of writhing bodies—people dancing, sexing, feeding. At the tables and on the couches lining the walls on the upper and lower levels, there was more of the sex and feeding. Cocktail waitresses delivered drinks under the watchful eyes of bouncers who ensured the waitresses went unmolested.

That had been one of Nate’s changes when he’d been promoted to manager—a rule that no one touched the staff or he’d maim them. Period.

“Yo, Nathan.” Marsden, Thirst’s vampire chief of security and Nate’s second in command, shoved his way through a gaggle of males eyeing three scantily-clad females leaning over the railing on the upper level. “We have a situation.” Marsden’s hazel eyes shifted to the medic station near the restrooms, and Nate sighed.

“Injury, overdose, or overfeed?”

“Overfeed. Vic is human.”

“Shit.” Bad enough when a vampire got too eager with an underworlder, but humans were a lot harder to treat, keep alive, and dispose of if they died.

“It was the perp’s second offense,” Mars said, as they moved toward the medic station. “He’s been given the boot.”

“Hope that boot was up the nightcrawler’s ass.”

Mars, the only soul on the planet who knew about Nate’s daywalker status, didn’t take offense at the dig at regular vamps. He merely grinned, revealing the latest in vampire fashion; gold-plated fangs studded with jewels. Feeding must be a bitch for both him and the victim.

“Boot went far enough up his ass that he lost a couple teeth.”

Excellent.

Inside the thirty-by-thirty room set up as a medical station, John, a human EMT who moonlighted here on weekends, was monitoring the flow of blood through an IV inserted into a red-headed woman’s freckled arm.

“She’ll be fine,” John drawled, his twang betraying his Texas roots. “This ain’t her first rodeo.”

True enough. The woman, whose name Nate thought was Allison, lay motionless and pale on the table, her silver tube top barely covering breasts made too big by a surgeon’s scalpel, and her black micro-mini skirt definitely not covering what it needed to. She was a regular here, a swan who gave herself to vampires for blood, sex, or both.

John carefully applied a bandage over the punctures on her neck . . . a neck that was scarred from hundreds of feedings.

The scent of blood teased Nate’s nostrils, drawing his gaze to a crimson trail on the inside of the girl’s thigh and reminding him that he hadn’t fed recently.

“There were two feeding on her,” he said, gesturing to the seeping punctures in her femoral artery. Some vampire had done a piss-poor job of sealing the wound.

John leaned in to examine the second bite. “Could have been just the one, tapping two places.”

“Different size fangs. The one at her throat was female.” Which, dammit, meant Marsden had another vamp to punish. “Alert me when you release the human.”

Nate didn’t wait for a response. He went straight to the bar, poured a double shot of O-neg, and took the edge off his hunger. His blood hunger, anyway. As he watched the grind of bodies on the floor, another need rose in him, one he hadn’t sated in far too long.

Marsden came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. “That hot little piece of human ass at the end of the bar has been eyeing you.”

Yeah, he’d already felt her lusty gaze on him. “I don’t need your matchmaking skills.”

“You need something. You’re wound around the axel, man. Want me to send her to your office?”

The human woman tilted her head to expose her slim throat as she ran black-lacquered fingernails along her cleavage in blatant invitation. He wondered if she was a star-fucker who knew who he was, a legend in the blood arena, or if she was a run-of-the-mill vampire chaser eager for any set of fangs to penetrate her. Either way, Nate wasn’t game no matter how strung out he was. He’d always preferred to get his blood and sex from females he hadn’t seen screwing other males that night.

“No.” He started to walk away, but Marsden’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Trust me on this. You need to work off some juice.”

A chill shot up Nate’s spine, and his jaw clenched so hard he could barely ask the question he already knew the answer to. “Why?”

Marsden’s nostrils flared, the diamond nose stud glinting in the smoky light. “He’s coming.”

The demon who owned both Thirst and Gladius was coming for a visit. Nate waited for the hatred to sear him from the inside, but instead, his chest cavity filled with ice, and his entire body went so cold he shivered. Fade was the reason Nate had infiltrated the club’s organization in the first place. He’d waited for decades to destroy the bastard, had gained his trust while growing stronger and amassing a fortune at the demon’s expense.

Nate’s hatred had eaten him alive for decades, but now it seemed that the hatred had been replaced by apathy. Once upon a time, Fade had killed the love of Nate’s life, and it was now becoming obvious that the demon had also killed Nate. He searched deep inside himself in an attempt to find a flicker of life, but there wasn’t even a spark.

He. Was. Dead.

Chapter 2

Incoming emergencies got Vladlena Paskelkov’s adrenaline surging and brought her to life like nothing else. As a nurse at the only hospital that catered to vampires, demons, and other various underworld creatures, she got to see things she’d never encounter at a human facility and, as with most medical people, the more bizarre or horrific the injury, the more excited she got.

It wasn’t as if she liked seeing anyone hurt, especially not the young of any species. But she’d inherited the medical gene from her father, who had been a surgeon at this very hospital.

Until he was tortured and killed by The Aegis, a society of human demon slayers who called themselves Guardians and made it their mission to rid the planet of evil.

Lena had been bitter, but not for long. Her father, though he’d been good to her, had walked a sinister path, and she was surprised the slayers hadn’t killed him sooner. She’d also learned to like a few Guardians, including one who used to work at Underworld General but now ran The Aegis, and one who was mated to the hospital’s chief of staff.

And speak of the incubus, Eidolon, a dark-haired, impossibly hot Seminus demon, jogged into the bustling emergency department and snagged a pair of surgical gloves from the supply stand.

“What have we got?”

Lena gloved up as she spoke. “Male shifter, unknown breed. Found like the others, with multiple wounds, no vitals when the paramedics found him, but Shade got him jump-started.”

Eidolon smirked. “What were Shade’s exact words?”

Shade, Eidolon’s brother in charge of the hospital’s paramedics, rarely minced words. Yes, he’d given her all the technical jargon, but only after his more personal observations.

“Hell’s fucking rings,” she said, doing her best Shade imitation. “Dude looks like he went through a wood chipper.”

One dark eyebrow arched. “That’s more like it.” The red rotating light at the ambulance bay doors lit up, signaling the ambulance’s arrival in the underground lot. Before the doors opened, Eidolon turned to her, lowering his voice. “Did the serum work?”

All the adrenaline that had been surging through her veins turned to sludge, and she absently rubbed the spot on the back of her hand where she’d given herself the injection.

“No.” She cleared her voice to rid it of the sudden hoarseness. “I didn’t shift.”

Pity dulled Eidolon’s espresso eyes. “I’m sorry, Lena. I’ll keep working on it.”

He didn’t say anything more. What was there to say? Sorry you’re a freak who can’t shift into your animal form, even with a drug that works on everyone else? Sorry you’re going to go insane and die?

Over the years, she’d been through therapy and lessons, desperate to shift into her furry form before she turned twenty-four, when the inability to shift would kill her. Yesterday, on her twenty-fourth birthday, she’d injected a drug Eidolon had developed as a catalyst for those who couldn’t shift any other way. It hadn’t worked. She was a failure among failures, and it was probably a good thing her father wasn’t alive to see how, very soon, she’d lose her grip on reality and grow violent before finally dying in agony. Shifters with her problem rarely survived more than six weeks after turning twenty-four, and she’d already started marking off days on the calendar. So much time wasted. So much more she’d wanted to do.

This really sucked.

The ER doors whooshed open, and Shade and his partner, a werewolf named Luc, wheeled in a bloody male on a stretcher. As they hurried the patient to a room, Shade rattled off vitals, the dismal numbers putting an immediate damper on hope. Lena had only been out of nursing school for a couple of years, but she knew a goner when she saw one.

The acrid stench of death clung to this male like a dire leech, and . . . she gasped, grinding to a halt as Shade and Luc lifted the patient onto a table.

“Vladlena?” Eidolon’s right arm, which was encased in glyphs that ran from his fingertips to his shoulder, lit up as the healing ability inherent to his species channeled into the male. “You know this patient?”

“Vaughn.” She stumbled to the side of the bed, her legs threatening to give out on her. “He’s my brother.”

Vaughn had been the only one of her three brothers who hadn’t tried to kill her. As the runt of the litter, she’d been the target of their vicious games, and if not for her father, they’d have slaughtered her. Now that he was gone, Van and Vic had made several attempts on her life . . . which was one of the reasons she pulled a lot of double shifts at the hospital. Here, she was safe.

Eidolon motioned for another nurse to take over for Lena, and she didn’t argue. Vaughn needed care she couldn’t give right now. Not with the way her hands were shaking and her mind was spinning.

Dear gods, he’d been torn to shreds. One arm looked like it had been chewed nearly off. Deep bite wounds left skin and muscle flayed in massive slabs that peeled back from exposed bone. His throat had been torn open, and blood seeped through the layers of pressure bandages.

One of Vaughn’s eyes was swollen shut, but the other opened, and his bloodshot gaze latched onto hers. Recognition flared in the blue depths, along with unthinkable pain.

“Hey.” She took his hand, tried not to cringe at the icy-cold, clammy skin. “You’re at UG. You’re going to be fine.” She offered a trembly smile that faltered when she glanced up at Eidolon, whose expression made a liar out of her. “Vaughn, what happened? Who did this to you?”

“Th-thirst . . .” His voice was barely a rasp, his words gurgled through blood. “Club . . .”

He convulsed, and her co-workers became a flurry of action. Shade pulled her back with gentle hands as Eidolon tried to save her brother.

Time became fluid, elastic, stretching without giving Vladlena any sense of how much of it had passed before Eidolon finally looked up at the clock and spoke the words no one wanted to say—or hear.

“Time of death, 3:22.” The doctor looked over at her, his powerful shoulders slumped in defeat. “Lena, I’m sorry.”

She nodded, her throat too clogged with emotion to speak. “Shade.” Eidolon lifted a sheet to cover Vaughn’s body.

“Where did you find him?”

“Same place as the others.” Shade gave Lena’s shoulders a squeeze and stepped away from her, though he stayed close. “In the sewers beneath Fifth street.”

Shade’s words barely registered. She’d latched onto a rhythmic tapping noise that rose up even over the din of the bustling emergency department outside the cubicle. It took a moment to realize what it was; her brother’s blood, dripping to the obsidian floor. Odd what the brain focused on when it didn’t want to think about something horrible right in front of you.

“What is going on?” Lena whispered.

Shade’s dark hair brushed the collar of his black paramedic uniform as he shook his head. “I don’t know, but your brother is the only one to make it through the hospital doors alive.”

“This is the third victim this week.” Eidolon stripped off his gloves. “The human and demon realms have been in turmoil lately, but this is too specific to be related to the apocalyptic events.”

Turmoil was a mild way to put what was happening, given that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse had recently appeared, and at least one apocalyptic Seal had broken. The hospital had been dealing with the violent fallout nonstop, and Eidolon had been forced to hire unschooled help and train them on the job just to keep up with the patient load.

Shade casually kicked a towel beneath the exam table to stop the sickening drip of Vaughn’s blood. It was a small thing, but a thoughtful one, and Lena could have kissed the demon for it. “So what the hell are we dealing with?”

“Fight club.” Wraith, Shade and Eidolon’s blond, half-vampire brother, sauntered up, his leather duster flapping around his boots. “You’re dealing with some sort of underground gladiator fights.”

“And you know this, how?” Shade folded his arms over his broad chest in that universal big brother pose Vaughn used to give her while he waited for an answer he knew he wouldn’t like.

Wraith blinked, all mock innocence. “I wasn’t always a model citizen, you know.”

Vladlena glanced over at her brother’s lifeless body before quickly looking away. “He wouldn’t have been involved with something like that.”

“Maybe not willingly,” Wraith said. “These places are run by the same kind of scum who run dog and cock fighting rings.”

Her hands tingled, and she realized she’d been hanging onto the stethoscope around her neck like it was a lifeline. “What are you saying?”

“That your brother could have been bait. Used to train fighters. Or he could have been forced into fighting.”

The strawberry milkshake she’d had for dinner soured in her stomach. Pinpricks of pain spread through her fingers as she pried them away from the ancient stethoscope, which used to be her father’s. “Where do these things operate?”

Wraith jammed his hands into his jean’s pockets. “The really skeevy ones are run in Sheoul, but the most profitable ones are here in the human realm.”

“Hey, guys, look at this.” Shade held up Vaughn’s arm, and under the glow of the ultraviolet lamp on the wall, a stamp glimmered beneath blood on the back of his hand. “One of the other victims had a similar stamp.”

“Thirst,” Wraith murmured. “Nice place.”

Vaughn’s voice rang through her head. Th-thirst. She sucked in a harsh breath. “That’s what Vaughn said when he came in. I thought he was asking for water. What is Thirst?”

“Vamp club.” Wraith propped his hip against the counter and crossed his booted feet at the ankles. “Shifters and weres go too, and a few humans who are in the know about us.”

Vaughn had been even more of a recluse than she was. So why he’d go to this vampire club was a mystery. A mystery she was going to solve. If she had only a few weeks left to live, she’d make the most of them, and she’d get revenge for her brother.

A forbidden thrill shot through her at the thought, and yep, that had to be a symptom of the pending insanity, because the idea of violence had never excited her. And somehow, she couldn’t even bring herself to be upset about it . . . which was probably another symptom.

Very gently, she tucked Vaughn’s hand under the sheet. “Looks like I’m going to pay a visit to a vampire hangout.”

“Lena, if Thirst is a cover for a fight club, it’s too dangerous for you.” Eidolon’s tone softened to the one he used with children. “When your father asked me to give you a job, he also asked me to look after you if anything were to happen to him.”

She stared at the handsome doctor, surprised by his admission, but it didn’t change anything. “You can’t stop me,” she blurted out, and wasn’t that mature? She might as well stomp her foot, too. Breathing deeply, she found her big girl voice. “I need to do something that matters in the time I have left.”

The doctor closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, they were resigned. “Give me an hour to do some research.”

“I’ll do recon,” Wraith said, his blue eyes bright with mischief. She didn’t even want to know what he had planned. With Wraith, it could be anything.

Shade popped a stick of gum in his mouth. “I need to clean the rig, but let me know if you need anything.”

The brothers left her alone with Vaughn, and she sat with him, remembering all that they’d been through, from games of hide-and-seek as cubs, to mourning their father’s death. An hour later, Lore, the fourth Seminus brother, arrived to take Vaughn to the morgue.

“I’m sorry, Lena.” Lore placed his hand—gloved to prevent any accidents with the lethal power he wielded—over hers. “I’ll treat him well.”

As he wheeled Vaughn away, Eidolon arrived with a cup of coffee. He handed it to her, and she took it, hoping the hot liquid would ease the chill that had settled in.

“You can access Thirst either through a secret entrance behind a human Goth club called Velvet Chain,” he said, “or from a hidden door in the sewer beneath it. Since it’s mainly a vampire club, non-vamps are expected to donate blood.”

“Not if they work there.” Wraith swept in the way he always did, like a tornado. “The club employs six medics. And they’re hiring.”

Eidolon frowned. “How do you know?”

“Because they’re now short two medics. I convinced one to quit.”

“And the other?” Eidolon asked.

“I convinced him to die.” Wraith flashed fangs. “It was that douche you fired last year for swapping out patients’ pain meds for vitamins.”

“Excellent.” Eidolon nodded in approval. “But I still don’t like the idea of Lena going into that den of violence.”

“It’s not your decision,” she said quietly.

“You’re right,” E said. “And I wish I could send someone with you, but we can’t afford to lose any more hands.”

“It’s okay. I have to do this.”

Wraith clapped her on the shoulder. “We’ll check in on you.”

Before she had a chance to thank him, Eidolon rounded on her, danger rolling off him in a scorching wave she felt on her skin.

“If anything happens to you,” he said, in a voice as deadly as she’d ever heard from him, “I promise we’ll bring that club down so hard nothing will be left standing.”

“Especially not the fucks who run it,” Wraith added, his eyes glittering with anticipation.

Funny thing. People talked big, said stuff like that all the time but never followed through. Without a doubt, these guys meant every word.

Chapter 3

Vladlena was a nervous wreck as she entered Thirst for the second time that day. Earlier in the afternoon, she’d spoken with the assistant manager about the medic job. He’d been impressed with her credentials, and after the interview, he’d sent her on her way with high hopes for a callback. Four hours later, she’d gotten the call.

Marsden had spoken with Eidolon, and now all she had to do was impress the big boss, some vampire named Nathan.

She halted just inside the main entrance and eyed the crowd, which seemed heavy for only six o’clock in the evening. But then, the patrons who came here lived all over the globe, so really, time in an underworld club was meaningless.

The scent of lust, blood, and booze was thick in the air, and as she navigated her way toward the medic station, she caught whiffs of aggression, as well. No doubt a place like this saw its share of fights. But it wasn’t the regular bar fights she was interested in. There was a sick, twisted sport going on here, and she’d make sure those responsible for her brother’s death paid.

One of the bouncers pointed her to Marsden’s office, which was far down a long hallway at the rear of the club.

“Thanks for coming, Vladlena.” He dipped his head in greeting as she entered, and she wondered if the gelled spikes in his ash-brown hair were as sharp as they looked. With his funky hair, piercings, black-painted nails, and jeweled fangs, he was one odd-looking guy. “Like I said on the phone, everything looks great. Getting Nathan’s okay is mainly a formality at this point, but he’ll probably have some questions for you.” He pointed to a door across the hall. “Good luck.”

The “good luck” didn’t sound promising, and she wondered what she was going to be dealing with. Inhaling deeply to steel herself, she tapped on the door. A gruffly spoken, “Enter” was the response, and she pushed open the door, unease curling inside her chest.

At first, she didn’t see him. She was too busy admiring the giant oak desk scattered with some sort of tickets marked with GLADIUS, the exotic—and expensive—Persian rug, the artwork on the walls. Then she stepped fully inside and looked toward the wet bar to the right.

He was standing with his hip propped against the bar, long fingers caressing a glass of amber liquid, his crystalline azure eyes drilling into her. Shiny, black-blue hair fell in a straight curtain below his broad shoulders, and damn it, she hated when males had better hair than she did. Sharp angles defined his face, from high cheekbones to a strong jaw, and when one corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile that revealed a gleaming fang, her pulse did an excited flutter.

Her roommate, Blaspheme, would say that from his expensive loafers to his well-fitting black slacks and gray silk shirt, this male exuded pure, hardcore sex.

Not that Lena would know anything about that.

“Um . . . hi, Mr. Sabine. I’m Vladlena—”

“Take off your clothes.” His husky voice, tinged with a faint French accent, was so mesmerizing that his words didn’t register for a few seconds.

Finally, she blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Marsden sent you, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then strip.”

He moved toward her, and with every step, her heart hammered faster. He’d been carved from a stone slab of danger, power, and grace, and if he possessed even an ounce of softness, she’d eat the file she was holding. The room shrank as he closed in on her, erotic energy pulsing off him and making her skin tingle. Those wide shoulders rolled, reminding her of a lion on the prowl, and although at five-nine, she wasn’t short, he was at least seven inches taller. He could crush her with his pinky finger, and here she was, in the place her brother had lost his life, alone in an office with the male who might be responsible.

“I didn’t know that getting naked was part of the job requirement.” She was proud of the way her voice didn’t waver. Much.

His expression hardened even more, something she hadn’t thought was possible. “Jesus. Where did Marsden find you?”

This was not going well at all, and she clutched the file in her hands tighter to keep them from shaking. “I applied for the job this morning.”

“He’s taking applications?”

“You’d rather your medical personnel pop in off the streets with no training?”

A deep frown pulled at his brow, and then he laughed, and good gods, he was impressive when he did that. “You’re here for one of the medic positions.”

So the guy was handsome, but not too bright. “Of course.” Taking a swig of his drink, he dropped his eyes to her feet. Slowly, he dragged his gaze back up her body in a blatant, sensual appraisal before settling on her mouth.

“Well, then,” he drawled. “How badly do you want the job?”

Nate waited for a reaction from the female—beyond the shocked-out expression that included a dropped jaw, wide eyes, and utter speechlessness, anyway. He’d figured out immediately that she wasn’t a screw sent by Marsden . . . well, almost immediately, though he hadn’t determined why Mars had sent her. In the first few seconds, he’d just been happy his lieutenant had sent an attractive but plain female who was actually wearing clothes, and not one of the fangfuckers from the club decked out in an outfit more appropriate for the bedroom than a bar.

This female was different from anyone he’d ever seen at Thirst, from her scuffed black flats and well-fitting but conservative charcoal slacks to her long-sleeved sweater. Her minimal makeup emphasized high cheekbones and full lips, and he had the oddest urge to ask her to take her blond hair out of the tame, hip-length French braid so he could see if it was as silky as it looked.

Maybe the doe-eyed librarian act was her game. Maybe she drew in the males who wanted to tap a wallflower. Nate had never been that kind. He liked hardasses who knew what they were getting into when they bedded a vampire, but as he’d sized up Vladlena, he began to see the appeal.

But then he’d seen the nervousness in her eyes, heard the note of fear in her voice. Some deep, dark part of him had awakened, and the thrill of the hunt seized him. It was a small rush, barely a ripple in the pool of numbness he’d been drowning in, but Jesus, it was as if a thread of life had been thrown to him, and he was going to cling to it for as long as he could.

“Well?” His body buzzed as he studied her, the way it did when he inadvertently drank blood from a coked-up human, but this was better. Purer, without the fuzzy edges. “You just going to stare at me, or are you going to offer up some incentive for me to hire you?”

Her slender throat worked on a few swallows, and he followed the column of smooth ivory skin lower, to the V neckline of her forest-green angora sweater. Just as he dove south to the smooth swells of her breasts, she thrust a file at him.

“Here’s your incentive.” She waited until he took the file, and then she stepped back, as if wanting to get away. It made him want to cage her between his body and the wall just to show her that if he didn’t want her to escape, she wouldn’t. “Eidolon, the head doctor at Underworld General, prepared that for you. It lists my accomplishments and special skills.”

He nearly chuckled at her attempt to divert him, but he was having too much fun watching her squirm. “All of your special skills?”

Again, her soft brown eyes flared. “Eidolon wouldn’t know all of my special skills, since he has enough integrity to not require that his employees sleep with him.”

“Is that so.” He set his glass on the desk and flipped through the file, not focusing on particulars. “So tell me, why are you leaving this great place where the upstanding boss doesn’t want his nurses on their backs?”

“My reason for leaving is my business. But as you can see, I come with the highest recommendation.”

Fair enough. But something about this female was off, and Nate had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts. She was too fidgety, too . . . something.

Curvy. Curvy is something.

Putting the lid on his less-than-helpful inner voice, he ran his thumb over the loopy whirls of her writing. “The file says you’re a shifter. What species?”

“Tiger.”

Not bloody likely. He inhaled deeply, seeking her scent. Through the tantalizing aroma of vanilla was a wild undertone of feline . . . and canine. Mostly canine, in fact. He’d have pegged her for a wolf, so why was she saying she was a tiger? It wasn’t any of his business, but again, something was off. He’d encountered every species of shifter alive, and he’d never come across one with this particular blend of scents.

His sixth sense was telling him to send her packing. The club had enough troubles, and it operated on a delicate balance. He didn’t need this female messing up anything or causing problems. And yet, she intrigued him with the very qualities that were making him twitchy.

“Okay, Tiger Lady, why are you applying to work here?”

“I need a job, and I work well independently, but I don’t want to work in a human hospital or clinic.”

“Why not? It would be a hell of a lot safer, and you don’t strike me as someone who likes to take risks.”

There wasn’t a tiger shifter on the planet who didn’t like to cozy up with danger, but she didn’t deny his accusation. “Humans provide fewer challenges, medically speaking.”

Her chin lifted, and though she was shorter than he was, she somehow looked down her nose at him, all superior-like. Interesting. Usually females batted their eyelashes and gave him smoky take-me eyes. The superior thing sent another rush through him, piquing his interest even more. Hell, he was actually getting hard.

He picked up his glass again and studied her over the rim. “So you like challenges,” he murmured.

“I love a good fight.” An odd darkness infused her voice, setting off his internal alarms.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Just what I said. Challenges are what make life interesting, don’t you think?”

He wondered what she’d do if he challenged her right up against the wall. His cell buzzed with a text message, and what do you know . . . opportunity was knocking. Buzzing. Whatever.

He looked over at Vladlena, who was shifting her weight nervously. “Can you start work now?”

“Right this minute?”

“If I like how you perform, you get the job.”

She glared at him for a heartbeat, as if trying to decide how he meant, “perform,” and then she shrugged. “Why not.”

He took her to the medic station, where Marsden met them with a big, bleeding male with a gaping laceration that had opened up his arm from shoulder to elbow. Blood streamed from his mashed nose and lips, and a piece of his ear had been torn off.

Vladlena leaped into action, snapping gloves out of the dispenser on the wall and then grabbing a towel to put pressure on the laceration as she guided the male toward the exam table. When he growled at her, Nate’s first instinct was to deck the guy, but she handled that like a seasoned pro as well.

“You do not growl at your nurse.” There was an underlying growl of her own in her words, but it was soft, almost gentle, bringing to mind the sound of a mother wolf chastising her young. “I have to help you, but I don’t have to make it comfortable. Got it?”

The male settled down, surprising the hell out of Nate. Mars nodded in approval and then jerked his thumb toward the hall. “I’m going to check on the other participant in the dance floor brawl.” He took off, and Nate turned back to Vladlena, who was reaching for the rolling med kit next to the bed.

“Now,” she said, “let’s get some vitals. What’s your species?”

“Warg,” the male grunted, and yeah, Nate figured. Werewolves, or wargs, as they liked to be called, were growly by nature, and they tended to be larger than other animal-based underworlders and humans—probably because they grew an extra inch or two after being bitten and turned into a werewolf.

She inspected his mouth and airway for any of the teeth that had been knocked out. “Was it a fist or foot that did this?”

Before the warg could answer, there was a shout from outside, and a vampire burst into the room. The warg came off the table, and Nate leaped to intercept him.

“Not in my office,” Vladlena snapped, and for a moment, the warg paused.

Unaffected by her command, the vampire lunged. A pure animal in his rage, he struck out at Vladlena, knocking her into the cabinets.

Fury ripped through Nate with the force of a summer storm, and then he was moving faster than his thoughts, ramming his fist into the male’s nose and popping a double-tap into his throat. As the vamp’s head rocked back, Nate seized him by the neck and slammed him into the wall. He felt the sting of a blade slash at his gut, but he was too lit to let it slow him down. If anything, the pain fed his need to draw blood, and he reached for the fucker’s wrist, snapping it with a quick twist of his fingers. The vamp shouted in agony and dropped the blade. Now Nate was going to tear the bastard’s head off.

Literally. One of the interesting things about being a day-walker was that he was stronger and faster than “normal” vampires, and he was going to make use of that right now—

Marsden’s hands came down on Nate’s shoulders to wrench him away from the nightcrawler as three of the club’s security guys wrestled the warg and vampire to the ground, cuffing them roughly.

“Get ’em out of here,” Mars snapped. “If they want to fight, they’ll do it outside. Then give them a fucking map to Underworld General. They aren’t setting foot in here again.”

Nate whirled around to Vladlena, and when he saw her on the floor, trapped by a shelf that had fallen on her, the pinprick of life he’d felt penetrate his veil of indifference earlier widened. Son of a bitch, if she was hurt . . .

He and Mars tag-teamed the shelf, lifting it off her.

“You okay?” Nate offered her a hand, and she took it, surging to her feet as if she hadn’t just been wearing a two hundred pound wooden shelf.

“I’m fine.” She started to brush herself off, but when she looked at him, she froze. “But you’re not.”

He looked down, surprised to see the gash that ran from his right side to his left hip. And that’s when the pain hit. Oddly, the only thing he could think of was that now Vladlena had an excuse to touch him.

Chapter 4

Vladlena did not like her boss. At all. But she was a trained medical professional, and he was bleeding. Badly. Besides, he’d saved her from what might have been a vicious beating, and while she didn’t doubt that his motivation was more about not wanting to lose another medic than about chivalry, she was grateful.

“Get on the table.” She peeled off the gloves she’d used on the warg, washed, and snapped on new ones as Nate did as he was told.

Interesting. He definitely didn’t seem like the type to follow instructions, but he hopped up on the table and laid back as if he were reclining to watch TV in bed.

And there was an image she needed to get out of her head, because she suddenly saw him on red silk sheets, his black hair spilling over a pillow, and she was right there, straddling his hips and running her hands up what was surely a magnificent chest.

She cleared her throat—and her mind. She was a professional, after all. “You’re going to have to take off your shirt.”

He worked the buttons, his long fingers seeming to take an unnecessarily long time. As he peeled the shirt away, he sucked air, and now that the wound was exposed, she could see why. The knife the vampire had cut him with had been serrated, leaving ragged edges on an already deep laceration. The slice had also gone through his leather belt and slacks.

“You’ll have to undo your pants too.” She swore she saw the faintest glimmer of amusement in his expression before it shuttered.

His hand hovered over his belt buckle. “Close the door. I don’t need my employees seeing me like this.”

The idea of shutting herself in a room with him sent flutters of both trepidation and excitement through her. The excitement was something that shouldn’t happen, not until she knew more about his involvement in her brother’s death, and she gave herself a mental scolding as she closed the door.

“There.” She turned back to him. “Happy?”

“I’ve been opened up from ribs to crotch. I’m not jumping for joy.”

“You’re already starting to heal,” she pointed out, and then she stopped talking, because he tore open his fly and her mouth no longer worked.

He didn’t wear underwear.

So much for being a professional. Giving herself a muchneeded kick in the butt, she fetched a tray of supplies and returned to him.

“I’m going to clean the area—”

“With your tongue?”

She jerked back. “What?”

“That’s what my vampire medic would do.”

“Eew. And no. I’m not a vampire, and even if I were, that’s just not . . . protocol.”

“Did your boss at Underworld General tell you that? The one who doesn’t make you fuck him?” That glimmer of amusement was back.

“You know, I don’t think you need medical assistance at all.” His wound was closing up quickly, though there was a three-inch gash where the knife had entered that was deeper than the rest of the laceration, and it could definitely use stitches or glue.

“I think I do.” Smiling, he tucked his hands behind his head. “So do me.”

With a huff, she swabbed blood from his skin with plain water—vampires sometimes had allergic reactions to disinfectants. It was probably inappropriate to notice how hard his flesh was, how deeply cut the muscles were, and how firm his skin was, but then, he was being completely inappropriate, so she found it hard to chastise herself.

“So, Vladlena” he said, “why didn’t your little voice trick work on me?”

“Call me Lena. And . . . voice trick?”

“I saw the way you were able to settle the warg down with only a few words.”

“Ah, that.” She shrugged. “It only works on canines.”

“Odd for a tiger, don’t you think?” He peered at her so intently through half-lidded eyes that she felt stripped bare. Vulnerable.

She pushed aside the whisper of panic that said he might not believe her cover story, but she hadn’t wanted to draw any suspicion by revealing that she was a hyena. A hyena who can’t change into a hyena. A hyena who has never displayed a single hyena trait. She was the worst shapeshifter ever.

“We all have unique gifts.” Time for a subject change. She probed the worst of the damage. “You’re very lucky the blade didn’t enter an inch higher, or your stomach would have been punctured.”

“And that’s bad?”

She dabbed at the deep laceration, and though it must have hurt, Nate didn’t even flinch. “For a vampire, yes. All your other organs heal quickly, but because the stomach pumps the blood you ingest through your body, it can bleed you out.”

“Wouldn’t kill me.”

“No, but it’ll make you weaker than a newborn baby for several days.”

He watched her finish wiping down his skin. “How long have you been a nurse?”

“You’d know the answer to that if you’d read my file.”

A lazy grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “Maybe I like the sound of your voice and want to hear it from you instead.”

Insufferable vampire. “A little over two years. I went to college and nursing schools in the human world, and then I got a job at Underworld General.”

And talk about a culture shock. Human medicine and demon medicine were two completely different animals. Every demon species was different, from their anatomies to their vital signs to the type of treatments they could tolerate—or not tolerate.

“What drew you to the medical field?”

“It’s in my genes,” she sighed. “My father was a surgeon at Underworld General.” As a child, she’d bandaged her stuffed animals, moving on to nursing neighborhood pets, and as she got older, the sound of an ambulance’s siren would fill her with excitement and longing.

“Was?”

“He’s dead.” She tossed the bloodied materials and dragged the rolling tray of supplies closer with her foot. “Killed by The Aegis.”

“Bastards.” He shifted, which made his fly gape open a little more. Nope, he definitely didn’t wear underwear. “What about the rest of your family? Mother? Siblings?”

“My mother hasn’t been in my life since my brothers and I were weaned.” Mainly, that was because she’d wanted to kill both Vaughn and Lena to rid the world of two runts who hadn’t thrived and who had needed extra care in their first few months to survive. Lena’s father had run her mother off, and she hadn’t seen her since.

“How many brothers?”

Lena’s first impulse was to lie, to mention only the two living ones, but no, she wanted him to get a glimpse of the pain she’d felt when she saw Vaughn in shreds.

“I had three. One was killed recently.”

His hand came down on her wrist, startling her. “The Aegis?” His voice was surprisingly mellow, his hold gentle, and for a moment, she was tongue-tied. But then she remembered that this vampire might very well have had something to do with Vaughn’s death, and she casually dislodged his grip.

“I’m not sure who is responsible,” she said. “But when I find out, I’m going to make them pay for what was done to him.”

“I get that,” he muttered. “Just don’t take too long, or it’ll get to the point where it won’t matter anymore.”

“Sounds like you have some experience with that?” she asked, as she reached for the tube of skin glue.

His jaw tightened so forcefully she heard the pop of bone. “Everyone thinks anger simmers, only growing hotter until you finally release it in some massive explosion.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely. But if you wait too long, all that rage burns out. It’ll flame hotter and hotter, until it consumes all the fuel, and then you’re left with nothing. Fire is the ultimate sanitizer.” His voice was bleak, scoured of the passion she’d seen in him up until this conversation.

Avoiding his gaze, she applied the Dermabond to the laceration. “Who did you lose?”

Silence stretched, and for a long time, she didn’t think he’d answer. When he did, his voice was cold but even. “My mate.” He cocked his head, his assessing gaze stripping her bare again. “Are you mated?”

“Me?” She suppressed a laugh. “I’m too busy for a social life.”

“That’s what people say when they don’t want a social life.”

She hated that he’d seen through her. She’d always found excuses for not going out with her friends, but what it came down to was that she was defective. Who would want a shifter who couldn’t shift and who would someday go insane and die?

“And you?” She capped the glue and tossed it to the cart. “I suppose you aren’t too busy for a social life?”

“I’m not too busy. I admit I don’t want one. My work is my social life.”

As if on cue, music from the club kicked up a notch, vibrating the very air with a deep bass beat that tugged at Lena’s very insides. “So what do you do for fun?” she asked casually, when she suddenly felt anything but.

An extremely wicked grin exposed his fangs, and her senses flamed in response. “I have sex. Wanna have some fun?”

Man, Nate loved making Vladlena squirm. Mostly, he was being obnoxious, but he definitely wouldn’t be averse to getting her naked.

Which was weird, considering that she wasn’t his type, and he had never embraced the any-port-in-a-storm attitude Marsden had made into a lifestyle.

“You know,” Lena said in a breathless rush, “in a human establishment, I could sue you for sexual harassment.”

“Only if I was harassing you.”

“You are.”

Bullshit. The flush of her skin, the heat radiating from her, the pitch of her voice . . . it all made a liar of her. It also engaged the predator in him—it had been a long time since he’d had to give chase to make the kill.

Time to pounce.

“I can feel your desire.” He propped himself up on his elbows, forcing his body closer to hers. “You want me. Therefore, it’s not harassment. It’s bringing the natural conclusion about sooner than later.”

Her outraged gasp made him laugh. “You are so . . . so . . .”

“Sexy?”

“Arrogant.”

He’d take that. “And sexy.”

Huffing, she shoved the rolling supply tray away. “Don’t you have a club to manage?”

He made a noncommittal noise as he swung his legs over the side of the exam table. “Technically, I’m off work.”

“And technically, I’m not working, remember?”

He was up in a flash and had her backed against the wall before he even realized he’d moved. She looked up at him, as surprised as he was by his sudden movement, but he rolled with it, totally I-meant-to-do-that, even though he wasn’t sure if his slightly impulsive behavior was a good thing or a bad one.

“If you’re not working, you should be playing,” he murmured, moving as close as he could without touching her. He wasn’t going to give her an excuse to push him away.

“If, by play, you mean have sex—”

“I do.” Now he leaned in a little, loving the way her breath hitched as his mouth lowered so close to hers that he could feel the warm rush of air between her parted lips. “But you know what’s almost as good?”

Her heart rate leaped, the beat so loud it thrummed in his ears and made his mouth water. Her voice was barely a murmur over the sound of her pulse. “What?”

“This.” He brushed his lips over hers, slowly, tentatively, giving her the chance to stop him.

She didn’t. But fuck, she was in imminent danger of heart failure if it didn’t slow down. Her nervousness was a tang in the air, and if he had any decency in him, he’d back off. Instead, that thread of life he’d been clinging to since she walked through his office door became a rope, strengthening his resolve.

He wanted to taste her. Wanted to sink his fangs into her throat and feel her pulse tapping against his teeth as her life force flowed into him.

He’d settle for tasting her lips.

For now.

Her lips were velvety, warm, and they parted more as he swept his mouth back and forth in invitation. Her response was hesitant, but curious. From the delicate scent of her desire that rose up all around him, to the spark in her eyes and the rapid pace of her breathing, it was clear she wanted this. But her body was stiff as a steel beam, screaming with awkwardness.

Maybe it’s because you’re her boss and she’s afraid you’ll fire her if she doesn’t kiss you, you dolt.

Cursing himself, he whispered against her lips, “Your job isn’t at risk. It never was, and I apologize for playing with you like that. You’re hired no matter what.” Huh. Maybe he still had an ounce of decency left in him.

“Okay,” she whispered back, and those gorgeous eyes of hers locked onto his, heating him and making him feel like she was caressing him from the inside.

Groaning, he increased the pressure against her mouth. “Open for me,” he murmured, and after the briefest hesitation, her lips parted just enough to allow him to stroke the tip of his tongue over the tip of hers.

This time, her reaction was immediate, intense, and shockingly abrupt, as if a dam had burst. She grabbed his biceps hard enough to send a small shock of blissful pain through him, and her back arched, putting her hips in contact with his, and she kissed him back with a hungry growl.

All of that set him off like nothing ever had. What had been mild arousal became a high-level blast of lust that clouded his thoughts and damn near had him taking her to the floor. He wanted her softness under him, her full hips and breasts buffering the hard planes of his body as he pounded into her. Only the faint vibration in his pocket kept him from stripping her down and diving between her legs.

“Dammit,” he breathed, as he reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He was going to throw the damned thing away if it kept interrupting him.

Lena’s wide eyes were glazed and unfocused, her face flushed, and yeah, she’d been his for the taking. He snarled viciously as he stepped back from her and looked down at the text message. GLADIUS. NOW.

“What . . .” She swallowed. “What’s Gladius?”

“None of your business.” Sexual frustration and annoyance at being sloppy enough to let her see the message put an edge on his voice. He jammed the phone back in his pocket and tried to ignore the hurt in her expression, because if she was so sensitive that a few harsh words bothered her, she wasn’t going to last a week in this club.

The reality of that thought didn’t stop him from wanting to draw her into his arms and apologize, though.

And what the fuck was up with the apologies and this touchy-feely crap? All his compassion had been beaten out of him in the arena, so why the sudden desire to protect this female as if she were nothing more than a lost young cub?

“Well,” she said crisply, “you can go to hell.”

He blinked. “For telling you to butt out of something that isn’t your business?”

“No. For being a jerk about it.”

Well, well. The tiger had claws, but as much as he’d like to see how far they extended, he had to go. “Go home, Vladlena. Be here tomorrow night at seven. A uniform will be waiting for you.”

She muttered a few mild obscenities under her breath, and he hid a smile as he stalked out of the office. Yep, she definitely had claws, and he couldn’t wait for her to use them on him.

Chapter 5

Lena’s heart had still been beating madly long after Nate left. Something about him both terrified and thrilled her, and crazily, she liked it. She’d spent so long being sheltered by her father and protected by those around her that getting out on her own was a hot rush. The fact that she’d succeeded in the first part of her goal—getting a job at Thirst—was even more of a rush.

It was the first job she’d ever gotten on her own. Granted, it wasn’t a job she was keeping, but at least her father hadn’t pulled strings to get her here.

She’d gone home and contacted Eidolon, letting him know she was safe. Then she’d gone to bed, for all the good that had done. She’d been restless, tossing and turning, and her mind kept going to Nate. She couldn’t get his spicy, masculine scent out of her nose. Couldn’t forget how his skin had felt under her fingers or how his lips had been so soft on hers. Couldn’t wipe his great-looking face and body out of her brain.

She also couldn’t rid herself of the nagging feeling that he was somehow involved in Vaughn’s death, and something told her that those tickets on his desk and the message on his phone were the key.

Now, as she finished donning form-fitting black scrubs with the word THIRST, the T fashioned to resemble a medical cross embroidered in red on the left shirt pocket, she was determined to do a little snooping.

Thirst was hopping, but so far, there were no injuries, so Lena explored, eyes peeled for . . . well, she didn’t know what, exactly, she was looking for. She chatted with the bouncers, wait staff, and bartenders, fishing carefully for information, but nothing they said raised any flags.

A broken wrist from a fall on the dance floor took her away from her investigation for an hour, and then she was back at it after spying Nate enter the club and make a beeline to the private section as if there was a fire. When he disappeared into his office, she followed, checking behind her to make sure no one saw her.

All clear. His door was closed, so she eased up to it and listened. Nothing. Not a sound came from inside. Taking in a deep, bracing breath, she tapped on the door and wondered what kind of excuse she’d come up with for disturbing him.

Fortunately, she didn’t need an excuse, because he didn’t answer. She took another calming breath, but it did nothing to still the nervous flutters in her belly as she tried the door handle.

Unlocked.

She slowly pushed it open. Inside, there was no sign of Nate, but where could he have gone? She’d seen him enter.

“Mr. Sabine?”

When no one answered, she closed the door and scrambled to search the office, starting with the file cabinets, which were locked. Same with the desk, dammit. She stood behind the desk, thinking. Her father had kept a similar office in his house, and it hadn’t been until he’d been killed that she’d discovered the dark secret he’d withheld.

She and Vaughn had stumbled across an opening in a wall behind a full-length mirror. The hidden passageway had led to a torture chamber that had verified all the rumors she’d heard about her father. It had been a nasty shock, and she wondered if any such passage she might find in this office would lead to as great a surprise.

She checked the most obvious places first—behind pictures, mirrors, the bookshelves. Nothing. She managed to knock over a bookend and stub her toe on a chair leg, though. A superspy she was not, and she prayed no one heard her impression of a bull in a china shop.

Just as she was about to give up, she moved to the massive wine rack behind the bar. She manipulated the bottles, being extra careful not to drop one. They were, no doubt, expensive.

When she wiggled a black bottle near the top of the rack, she felt the slightest give. Excited, she pushed on it, and half of the rack cracked open . . . only an inch, but she didn’t dare open it more until she knew what was behind it. She listened, prepared to nudge the door farther, but the sound of voices constricted her chest and cut off her breath.

Shit!

Heart pounding, she tugged the rack closed and scurried out of the office. Her muscles went watery and stopped working as she closed the door, and she allowed herself a moment to collapse against the wall and just breathe. Automatically, her fingers found her stethoscope. Touching it in times of stress was a strange habit, and one she needed to break. She just hadn’t found the willpower to buy one of her own, one that wouldn’t carry memories of her father.

Voices from behind the office door broke her out of her thoughts. Both male, one Nate’s. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hear specifics, but if the tones were any indication, he wasn’t happy. The other male sounded . . . amused. And something about his voice sent shivers up her spine.

The door jerked open, and she jumped, whirled, and came face to . . . chest . . . with a man—no, definitely demon—who stood at least seven feet tall and was twice as wide as she was. His movie-star good looks were negated by the evil he radiated; She felt it beneath her skin, like a million worms wriggling in her muscles. He looked down, his black eyes targeting her as if she were a steak and he was a hungry lion.

“What have we here?” His voice was both seductive and frightening, and the sense of things writhing under her skin increased. What species is he?

Suddenly, Nate was there, taking her arm and pulling her away. “She’s not for your pleasure, Fade.” His hand tightened on her arm almost possessively. “She’s an employee.”

The demon raised a tawny eyebrow. “Employees are definitely for my pleasure.”

“Not this one. We’re short on medics, and we can’t afford to lose another one.”

Tension crackled in the air between the two males, thickening with every second.

“I, um . . .” She licked her dry lips. “I should go.”

Nate turned to her, keeping his hand on her arm. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to know how much authority I have to purchase supplies,” she lied.

He studied her for so long that she started sweating—and regretting not putting on an extra layer of deodorant. The stethoscope around her neck began to feel like a noose. Finally, he nodded.

“Purchase whatever you need. See Marsden about setting up a personal payment account.”

She offered a shaky smile, which fell when she saw Fade leering at her out of the corner of her eye. “Thank you. I’ll just . . . go now.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Fade purred, and her marrow froze. She’d encountered evil in her life—her father included. But this male . . . he made the others pale in comparison. And unlike inside Underworld General, Thirst had no spell preventing violence to protect her.

“Walk by yourself.” Nate’s voice was a portent for trouble. “I have business to discuss with her.” His fingers dug into her arm, a silent signal to agree with him. As if that was even a question. “In my office.”

Nate had no idea what had come over him, except that he knew what Fade was planning to do to Lena. The demon was on the prowl for dinner and sex, and for him, they were the same thing. No way was Nate going to lose a skilled medic on her first day on the job.

And as much as it pained him to think it, Nate also didn’t want that bastard touching her the way Nate had. The way Nate wanted to. He could still remember how her lips had tasted of berry gloss, how her skin had felt like smooth satin. Fade would bruise that luscious skin and make those lips bleed.

A low growl vibrated through his chest at the thought, and he had to make an effort to tamp it down as he escorted Lena into his office and then sent a text to Marsden, warning him to keep an eye on Fade. They couldn’t stop their boss from causing trouble in his own club, but they could do their best to redirect his focus. And right now, Nate’s number one goal was to redirect the asshole away from Lena.

“What was that about?” she asked, when he was finished texting Mars.

“Nothing. Just stay away from Fade, got it?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she muttered. “Who is he, anyway?”

Nate tossed the phone to the desk a little too forcefully, and it slid to the floor. Fuck it. It could stay there. “He’s the club owner.”

Head cocked in a decidedly canine manner, Vladlena studied him as if he were some sort of puzzle to solve. “Clearly, you don’t like him. So why do you work for him?”

And wasn’t that the question of the century. Literally. He knew why he’d come here to work, but why he was still here . . . not so sure.

“Are you always so nosy?”

She graced him with a sunny smile that fit her so well. From her glowing, tan skin to her bright blonde hair, there wasn’t an ounce of darkness in her. As great as she looked in the tailored black scrubs, he was tempted to order cheery yellow ones to suit her better.

“Must be the cat in me,” she said breezily.

“Funny, but I’m not seeing a lot of cat in you.”

Her smile faltered, but she recovered with an admirable deflection away from his observation. “Are you going to answer the question?”

“I didn’t think I owed you any answers.”

She shrugged one delicate shoulder. “I suppose you don’t. But it would be nice.”

Nice? Nice? Where had this female grown up? She was the least underworldly creature he’d ever met. He liked it. She reminded him of life before he’d been turned. Life before it had become a waking nightmare.

“Let’s make a deal,” he said. “You tell me why you’re really here, and I’ll tell you why I work for Fade.”

The color drained out of her face so fast he nearly jumped to catch her if she passed out. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your reaction tells me otherwise.”

She stiffened. “I should get back to the office—”

He blocked her path. “What’s your hurry?”

“I have a job to do.”

“I’m the boss, and I say your job can wait.”

Angry red splotches colored her cheeks. “No wonder your other medics quit. Did you bully them, too?”

“Nope.”

She folded her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up and out. She should do that more. “So I’m special. How lovely.”

“They didn’t keep secrets from me.” What color of bra was she wearing? She seemed like the type to wear practical beige or pure, sensible white.

“My secrets are my own, and you have no right to them.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to her face. “My eyes are up here, Mr. Sabine.”

Busted. Hard. He forced his attention away from his raging libido. “I have a right to them if they affect my business.”

“They don’t.” She adjusted the well-worn stethoscope around her neck, even though it hadn’t moved an inch. She’d done it out in the hall as well.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” she asked, and his eyes flicked to her fingers, which hovered over the time-whitened black tubing, and she jerked her hands to her sides. “It was my father’s.”

“So it’s a comfort.”

Her cheeks pinked delicately, as if a painter’s brush had swept rose stain across them. “I know it’s stupid. I just haven’t had time to get a new one.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” He reached out to brush out of her eye a strand of hair that had escaped its braid, letting his fingers linger on her warm skin. Gods, there was such life in her, life that pulsed vibrantly under his fingertips and revved him like a motorcycle at full throttle. “Tell me, how do you survive in our world when you’re so transparent? Who has taken care of you all this time?”

He hadn’t meant his softly-spoken question as an insult, but she jerked away from him with a hiss.

“Shut up,” she snapped. “Just . . .” She slapped her hand over her mouth, her expression stricken. “I . . . oh, geez, I’m sorry.” He let her gather her wits, forcing himself to not reach for her again. “Look, I’m a little sensitive about this, okay? I’m trying to make it on my own. I’m out from under my father’s thumb, and I’m tired of being protected and sheltered and treated like I’m made of glass. I can do things by myself. There are things I need to do before I die, you know?”

She made dying sound imminent. Yes, as a shifter, she was long-lived, but she wasn’t immortal. Still, he sensed she was young, and she probably had a few hundred years left in her, so why the rush to do things?

“So, is this job part of your trying to make it on your own?”

Her brows pulled down into a deep frown. “Yes,” she said, as if that thought had only now occurred to her, and maybe surprised her a little. “Your turn. Why are you working for a man you hate?” She stepped closer to him, and he doubted she even realized it. She was too busy regarding him with that you’re-a-mystery-to-solve look again. “This has something to do with the fire you were talking about, doesn’t it? The way it can burn so hot that it burns itself out.”

Clearly, he’d said way too much to her, and even more clearly, she was too smart for her own good. Unable to think while she was staring at him with those too-knowledgeable eyes, he turned away from her and braced his hands on the bar. He sensed more than heard Lena move closer, and when her hand came down on his arm, it was as if he’d jammed his finger into an electrical socket. His body jerked, his muscles tensed, and intense, searing heat melted the marrow deep in his bones. Gods, when was the last time he’d reacted like that to a woman?

The answer to that was something he didn’t want to think about, because he hadn’t even had that response to his wife.

The thought turned into a growl that pumped out of his chest as though it had been building steam for years. Too late, he realized he might have frightened Lena, but oddly, she didn’t flinch. In fact, she began a gentle stroking action up and down his spine that both soothed him and put him into orbit.

“Don’t,” he rasped, even though he wasn’t sure why he didn’t want her touching him like that.

She ignored him, keeping up the light strokes. “Have you been with anyone since your mate died?”

His laugh was brittle to his own ears. “She didn’t die. She was murdered. And I haven’t been celibate, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, it wasn’t what I was asking.”

Frowning, he stood straight and turned to her. Her hand fell to her side. “Then what were you asking?”

“If you’ve loved anyone since.”

His head jerked back as if he’d been slapped, and he actually stepped backward to keep his balance. “Why?”

She matched his step, moving forward, and a freakish thread of panic wove through him. “Some species mate for life. I know vampires don’t, but the blood bond can be strong. I’ve seen them waste away and die of broken hearts.”

“I’m not burned out from a broken heart,” he said tightly.

“I’m ashed from hatred.”

“So you think there’s nothing left except the hate?”

“I know there’s not.” Hell, he even doubted the hate was still there most of the time.

“Then why do you continue to work? To feed? Why not just step into the sun and end it all?”

Because the sun doesn’t fry me. But yeah, he understood what she was asking. He’d asked himself the same question on a regular basis.

He scrubbed his hand over his face, unable to believe he was having this conversation with someone who was as alive as he was dead. “Ending it would mean I cared enough to do it.”

“So you care for nothing.” She peered up at him through long golden lashes, her gaze a bold, hard challenge. “Nothing at all fires your blood?”

His cock stirred, as if it, too, was implying that he was a liar. “Oh, there’s one thing that fires it.”

Lena’s expression was one of subtle triumph. “And what’s that?”

“You.” He raked his gaze over her, his blood racing faster with every second he lingered on her feminine curves. “For some reason, you engage my prey drive.”

“So you see me as prey?”

“Touch me,” he said in a low voice, “and find out.”

Chapter 6

Lena had never been so tempted to obey a command. As a nurse with an innate instinct to nurture and heal, she itched to treat Nate’s wounds. As an adult female whose libido was going berserk, she longed to run her hands over every inch of his hard body.

As a shifter with a clock counting down the days to her death and who had always been “different,” she just wanted to be normal for a little while. She wanted to know what being with a male was like. Oh, she couldn’t go all the way—shifters were incapable of having sex before their first shift. Males couldn’t get erections, and a female’s hymen broke during her shift, but was impenetrable before that. Eidolon had offered to attempt to surgically remove hers, but she’d turned him down, because seriously . . . how embarrassing.

Now she was regretting that decision. She didn’t have long to live, and she was going to die a virgin.

And really, could she be more of a drama queen?

Nate’s blue eyes blazed down at her. “So you aren’t going to take me up on that challenge, I see.”

Challenge? The very word made something rise up in her . . . something besides lust, anyway. It was a call to action, a desire to run him into the ground the way a wolf chased a deer. For the first time in her life, her animal instincts, which she’d begun to doubt she possessed, came alive, and it was one hell of a rush.

So yes, she was going to die a virgin, but she wasn’t going to die untouched.

Boldly, she stepped into him, enjoying the tiny flare of surprise that flashed across his face. He hadn’t expected her to act, had he? The knowledge that she’d surprised him filled her with even more power.

She palmed his chest, felt the ripple of firm muscle beneath her hand. “Challenge accepted.”

A growl rattled through his chest, the masculine, needy sound spiking her temperature. “Do you know what you’re accepting?”

Not. A. Clue. Well, maybe. She might be a virgin, but she wasn’t innocent. She’d grown up in her father’s house, and he had a . . . healthy . . . appetite. She couldn’t count the nights she’d heard the noises from his bedroom or walked in on his exploits. And then there was college, and her roommate . . . but none of that could compare to what went on in the supply closets at Underworld General. When a hospital was run by sex demons, there tended to be a lot of . . . sex.

There was the slightest tremor in her hand as she took his and pressed it to her breast. “Show me.”

No hesitation. In one massive surge, he was on her. Taking her mouth with his, he pushed her back against the wall. His tongue pushed deep, tangling with hers, penetrating and retreating in a carnal rhythm that coaxed a moan of acquiescence from her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her lips. “Sweet. So . . . pure.”

Pure. Yeah, okay, but not by choice. She’d wanted this for so long. She should probably feel guilty, given that she still hadn’t ascertained the extent, if any, of his involvement in Vaughn’s death, but if she was wrong and Nate wasn’t involved, she couldn’t pass this up. Besides, the closer she got to him, the more information she could get from him, right?

The justification for what she was doing was lame, and she knew it. But she also knew what her body was feeling. She’d been aroused before, had been attracted to males, but never like this. It was as if her body had been a dormant volcano, and now it was awakening after countless years of only minor quakes.

Her blood flowed like lava in her veins, liquid heat erupted between her thighs, and inside her chest, an aggressive growl shook her all the way to her bones. Closing her eyes and shutting off her mind, she let her body react. Nate’s hands came up to cup her face, his fingers splayed to hold her for his kiss. His thumbs stroked her jaw as his tongue caressed her lips.

Desire swirled and coiled tight, fueled by Nate’s sensual energy, and she found herself arching against him, rolling her hips to rub on the hard ridge of his erection. He made an erotic noise of approval and intensified the kiss, sweeping his tongue over her teeth, the roof of her mouth, and nipping at her lips.

Shivering despite the steamy heat building between them, she clung to his biceps, pulling him as close as possible, loving the way his size made her feel so feminine. She wished they were at her apartment, or at a hotel . . . anywhere but here. She wished . . . what? She couldn’t remember where her thoughts had been headed, because Nate’s hands slid down her throat and shoulders, then lower. One arm slipped behind her back while his hand drifted over her breast, and her knees nearly buckled.

He seemed to know, and pushed one thick thigh between her legs to brace her against the wall. The move also put the most delicious pressure against her core, and she gasped with pleasure.

“That’s it.” His voice was a husky, ragged drawl as he kissed a sizzling path along her jaw. “Let me hear you.”

“No doubt,” she said in a raspy, turned-on voice she didn’t recognize as hers, “your ego likes that.”

She felt him smile against her skin. “My ego doesn’t need boosting, but yes, it likes it.” One hand slid down the back of her pants while the other tugged at the drawstrings at the front. Her pulse thudded obnoxiously loud in her ears as he cupped her butt beneath her panties.

Was she really going to do this? He hissed, and she realized she’d dropped her own hands to his rear and was squeezing the firm globes through his slacks. She’d also lifted one leg to put her mound in contact with the bulge behind his fly, and her question about whether or not she was really going to do this was answered.

She wanted this. Desperately. So desperately that when he started to push her scrub pants down, she helped, hooking her thumbs under both her panties and the pants and shoving them to mid-thigh. Nate didn’t waste time taking them off. His hand slipped between her legs, and when his fingers found her wetness, they both groaned.

Her head lolled back against the wall, and if there had been any nervousness before, it was gone, replaced by a mindless, primal desire to get this male on top of her, inside her, all over her. She nearly wept at the realization that he couldn’t be inside her, but then sparks shot through her at the sweep of his thumb at the top of her cleft, and all that mattered was reaching that ultimate peak.

Panting, aching, she unzipped his slacks and released his massive erection. When she wrapped her hand around his shaft, his mouth fell open and before her eyes, his fangs lengthened and his lips blushed red. Oh, oh . . . my. Her head involuntarily tilted to the left, exposing her throat. The fact that she’d so easily offered herself should have bothered her . . . would bother her later . . . but for now all she wanted was to feel those gorgeous canines buried deep in her flesh.

“Please,” she whispered.

Instantly, his head came down, the tips of his fangs striking her throat . . . but not penetrating. For a long, breathless moment, he did nothing, though his fingers continued to play in lingering, smooth strokes back and forth through her slit. A heartbeat passed. Two. Three. And then, with a sound similar to a purr, Nate closed his mouth over her throat but didn’t bite.

“No,” he said roughly, giving her the gentlest nip over her jugular. “No marks.”

Before Lena could protest, because right now she’d willingly take his mark, he dipped one finger inside her entrance, using his fingertip to circle the ultra-sensitive tissue. His thumb brushed lightly over her clit, tiny, teasing flicks that became firmer as she rolled her hips into his hand, desperate to land his touch where she needed it. At the same time, she squeezed his shaft, her strokes clumsy and unpracticed, but if the little hitches in his breath were any indication, he didn’t seem to mind.

He captured her mouth again, and between her legs, tension mounted. “You’re amazing,” he murmured. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

His words were a silken caress that made the world shrink so that only they existed. He changed the tempo of his strokes, and the slick friction had her writhing, panting, running right to the edge and leaping off it.

“Yes,” she cried out, the orgasm tearing through her, a whirlwind of sensation that robbed Lena of all her senses and maybe even her consciousness for a moment. Her legs turned to gel, her vision went dark, and if not for Nate’s big body, she’d have slid to the floor.

As she came down, she wondered how she was going to tell him she couldn’t go any further than this.

Maybe she didn’t need to. She pumped her fist slowly up and down his rigid length. Maybe she could pleasure him the way he’d pleasured her—

A knock at the door froze that thought and brought a nasty snarl from deep in Nate’s throat. His lips brushed her neck as he snapped, “What?”

“We have business.” Fade’s voice was an icy, crisp command that instantly dropped the temperature in the office.

Nate swore under his breath. “I’ll be out in a minute.” He stepped back from her and zipped up with a small wince. “Stay here,” he told her in a low, hushed voice. “Give me three minutes to get the demon away from here, and then get out.”

She tugged up her pants, feeling suddenly exposed and seriously embarrassed. “Why the caution?”

“Because he wants you, and if he knows I do too—” He cut himself off with a curse, and goosebumps shivered over her skin, but she wasn’t sure if they were pleasant ones that came as a result of being wanted, or prickles of foreboding for the same reason.

With that, he left her, half-dressed, disheveled, and seriously conflicted.

Nate’s temper balanced on a machete’s edge as he slipped into the hallway, careful to make sure the door was locked behind him and that Fade didn’t get a glimpse of Lena. Man, he’d been close to Heaven in there, could still taste Lena on his tongue, could smell her on his body. Her sweet sounds of passion were still ringing in his ears.

And his cock and fangs were both throbbing with hunger that wasn’t going to be sated anytime soon. He was a ticking time bomb, and he really wanted to go off on Fade in a bloody, painful explosion.

The evil smirk on the demon’s face said he knew exactly what had happened in the office. “You have a female in there.”

“I always have females in there.” Nate started down the hall toward the guarded door that led to the secondary entrance to Gladius from Thirst. “What’s so important?”

Fade didn’t follow immediately, but Nate kept walking, swearing under his breath and hoping the bastard would follow—and that he’d be distracted enough by the question to forget about Lena. Nate had never worried about Fade’s interest in Nate’s bedmates before, but then, the females had never been anything but one-night stands to him. Lena captured Nate’s interest more than anyone else had since his mate died, and if Fade caught on, Lena could pay with her life for Nate’s lack of control.

“I’m going to open a new fight club,” Fade said, catching up with Nate. “The underworld turmoil is starting to affect the human population, and I foresee an opportunity to franchise.”

“What, you want to be the McDonald’s of death matches? In case you haven’t noticed, in most countries even animal fights are illegal.”

“The Apocalypse is coming, vampire. And in the aftermath, the world will be changed. Demons will walk the earth, and they love blood sport.”

No shit. “Demons will arrange for death matches in their own backyards at that point. Why would anyone pay to see them?”

“People can grill burgers in their backyards too, and yet, fast food chains are making a fortune on them.”

Nate wondered if Lena liked burgers. He’d love to watch her eat one. There was just something incredibly sensual about watching a female eat meat . . . especially if it was something he’d prepared himself.

And what the hell? Clearly, all his blood was still in his dick.

He thrust his hand through his hair and came to a halt, letting his fantasies run to ripping the demon’s throat out instead of watching Lena eat hamburgers. “So you intend to provide cheap entertainment without the hassle of procuring fighters, setting up an arena, managing cleanup . . .”

“All while providing comfort, food, and drink.” Fade grinned. “I’ll make legends of some fighters, stars everyone will want to be with. For a price, of course.”

“And, no doubt, you’ll make sure any competition is squashed.” The disgust that bubbled up when Fade grinned wider at that was startling. It had been decades since Nate experienced any kind of negative reaction to the demon’s machinations. “So why are you telling me this? Does this have something to do with the ‘business’ you mentioned?”

“I want you to manage it.”

Oh, hell, no. “I’m happy here.”

Fade waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Your happiness is not my main priority. You will oversee all elements of the business, from groundbreaking to building and hiring.”

This wasn’t going anywhere good, and Nate started walking again, as if he could outrun the demon and his unholy plans. “Have you chosen the site already?”

“Yes.” Fade fell into step with Nate. “With so many plagues mowing down humans, poisoned land is available on every continent. I’ll open clubs everywhere, but this first one will be in a South American jungle. You’ll leave tomorrow to assess and lay claim to the site. It should only take a couple of days.”

“Send Marsden. Or Budag. I have business here.”

Fade snarled, and Nate resisted the urge to snarl back. “This isn’t up for debate. You will go, and next week, on the eve of the new moon, you’ll return to the site to perform a sacrifice.”

Instincts twitching, Nate halted in the middle of the hallway. “Something tells me you’ve already chosen the victim.”

“I have. A lovely virgin I found in your own club.”

Nate let out a bitter laugh. “There hasn’t been a virgin in this club in . . . well, ever.”

“Oh, you’re so wrong.” Fade clapped his hand on Nate’s shoulder, his eyes little more than black, oily pools. “Your new medic, Vladlena, is untouched.”

Fuck. Very deliberately, Nate schooled his expression into neutrality. If Fade had even the slightest suspicion that Lena interested Nate at all, there would be no talking the demon out of this.

“I can’t lose another medic. They’re too hard to find. Get another virgin.” And seriously? She was a virgin? No . . . way. Then again, it would explain a lot. Like the pesky purity and innocence he’d been sensing.

“A sacrifice means nothing if it isn’t important. She’s important to this club, and therefore, perfect.” Fade lowered his voice to a dark, dangerous rumble. “There will be no more discussion on the matter, but to make sure you don’t fuck me over, I’m sending Budag to keep an eye on you. After you secure the site, you will return there with her and torture her to death.”

Since the demon wouldn’t be swayed, Nate’s only choice was to play along. For now. “As you wish.”

If Fade got his way, Lena would be dead next week. But he wasn’t going to get his way. Nate was. As soon as Nate returned from his trip, he’d make sure Lena couldn’t be sacrificed.

Because she’d no longer be a virgin.

Chapter 7

Lena had been employed at Thirst for four days now, and her time here had turned out to be a bust. Nate had gone missing, the door to his office locked so she couldn’t explore whatever lay behind the wine rack, and aside from that creepy Fade guy lurking around with a seemingly keen interest in her, she hadn’t uncovered anything even remotely unusual. Nate and Marsden ran a tight ship, and anyone who broke rules, from employees to patrons, paid the price. They didn’t even allow drugs in the place, which, according to Shade and Wraith, wasn’t normal for a place like this.

Something else that she didn’t think was normal was the way Marsden hovered, appearing out of nowhere to run interference when Fade got too close to her. Nate’s assistant also made sure she had everything she needed, and once, he even asked if she liked hamburgers. If she hadn’t been here in an undercover capacity, she’d actually enjoy working in the club.

Then there was the package Marsden had delivered a few minutes ago. She’d opened it, thinking it contained medical supplies. Her eyes had stung at the sight of the new stethoscope inside . . . an extremely expensive stethoscope with a gold-plated chestpiece and eartubes. There was no note, but she knew the gift was Nate’s doing, and his act of generosity leveled her. He understood her silly attachment to the one that had belonged to her father, knew that if she bought one, it would almost feel like a betrayal.

Nate had saved her that pain, and she was having a hard time holding onto her belief that he could be the monster she’d initially believed him to be.

“Nice necklace you have there.” Con, a blond vampire mated to Eidolon’s sister, Sin, stood in the doorway to the medical office, one shoulder propped against the doorjamb. All of the Sem brothers, as well as Sin, had come to check on her, and Eidolon called her every day when she was at home. Today Con had drawn check-on-Lena duty.

Lena smiled down at her new stethoscope. “Standard issue around here.”

“Uh-huh.” Con let out a dubious snort. “Even E doesn’t have one like that. You selling organs on the black market or something?”

“It’s not that expensive.” She looked up from disinfecting the exam table that had been bloodied by yet another drunk idiot who picked fights with bigger guys. “And I don’t need a babysitter. I’m doing fine by myself.”

Her father might have kept her completely secluded and sheltered, but in the nearly three years since his death, she’d gained some healthy independence. She’d forced herself to try new things and go to new places, and she hadn’t regretted a minute of it. Activities that appeared scary were never as bad as she’d thought, and she’d even done the human club thing with her roommate once. She hadn’t gotten brave enough to hit an underworld club yet, but after seeing how Thirst was run, she was ready to give it a try.

“I’m not babysitting,” Con said. “Just checking on you. We all wish we had more time to devote to this, but with the way the underworld is churning . . .”

He didn’t have to say anything else. The world was on the verge of Armageddon, and there were a lot more important things to deal with than a fight club that was only one of hundreds, maybe thousands.

“I get it,” she said. “I appreciate all your help.”

“Yeah, well, we might have something for you soon. Wraith is looking into whatever Gladius is. He sent a message just before I got here. Said he has a lead, asked for an hour to squeeze some dude for info, but he indicated that this is the break you need.”

Con’s news should have put her on the moon, but instead, all she felt was dread. As much as she wanted to find those responsible for killing her brother, she wanted Nate to not be one of them.

She pasted on a smile. “Great. Can’t wait.”

Con’s keen ears must have picked up the sound of footsteps, because he said quickly, “We want you back at UG. Eidolon will give you a raise.”

“I’ll match it and add 20 percent,” Nate said from behind Con, and her heart gave a little flutter. The stupid thing seemed to have missed him.

“We want her back,” Con said, not missing a beat.

Nate stepped inside the medic office, his blue-black hair gleaming under the harsh lights. “She’s mine.”

Con cocked a tawny eyebrow. “Yours?”

“Thirst’s,” Nate ground out. “I’ve come to promote her, in fact.”

“Is that so? Convenient timing.”

Nate’s ebony brows slammed down over eyes that darkened dangerously. “It’s my club. My timing conveniences me, and me alone. When I want something, I get it.” He shifted his gaze to her, and his eyes darkened more. “And I want her.”

There was no mistaking the heat banked behind those long lashes, and Lena’s breath caught. No male had ever looked at her the way Nate did, and she liked it.

Con, however, did not. He went taut, as if preparing to defend her, his silver eyes flashing like razor blades, but quickly, she put herself between them with a casual smile and took Con’s forearm.

“I’ll walk you out,” she said cheerily. “It was nice of you to stop by. Tell Eidolon I’ll consider his offer.”

A barely audible rumble sounded behind her, and a tingle of pleasure skittered over her skin at the possessive quality of Nate’s growl. Even if he only wanted her for the club, it was nice to be valued. Oh, she knew that UG valued her, but here she had fewer supervisors and more autonomy. It was . . . cool.

Remember why you’re here, idiot. Vaughn is dead. Right. Talk about a cold splash of water.

Con stopped at the doorway. “It’s okay, Lena. I can find my own way out.” His gaze shifted to Nate, and he bared his fangs before returning to her. “Just take care of yourself. If you need anything—” once again, he gave Nate the you’re-dead-if-you-harm-her look “—anything at all, you know to call.”

“I know.” She went up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. “And thank you.”

Con strode away, and when she turned back to Nate, once again, her breath was stolen from her lungs. Dressed in faded jeans and a navy T-shirt that clung to every sculpted muscle like shrink-wrap, he stood next to the exam table, his black mane cascading down his back and around his shoulders in a shimmering waterfall, his big body vibrating with lethal power. He was . . . magnificent.

“Is he your lover?” Nate’s voice was deep, husky, and she shivered with feminine appreciation.

“Hardly. He’s mated to my boss’s sister.”

“I’m your boss.”

Damn. Nice screw-up. “Of course you are. It’s just that I worked there for a long time, and it’s hard to get used to the fact that I’m not there anymore.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he said nothing. Instead, in brutal, heart-pounding silence, he strode to the door and closed it.

The click of the lock was the loudest sound she’d ever heard, and she actually jumped like a twitchy rabbit.

Riveted by curiosity and the mere sight of him, she watched as he wheeled around and closed the distance between them. As he looked down at her, his expression was a curious mix of hunger and regret that she didn’t understand.

“Now,” he said softly, “we finish what we started in my office.”

Nate was fucking lit. The time he’d spent in the jungle at the site of the new fight club had worked him into a knot of nerves and need. He’d long ago determined that the more primitive the environment, the more his baser instincts surfaced.

It didn’t get more primitive than the South American rain forest.

Thanks to the make-out session in his office with Vladlena before he left, he’d already been coming out of his skin, but then the trip to the steamy jungle jacked him up even more. Standing beneath ancient trees, on soil touched only by beasts as he inhaled the clean, unpolluted air that smelled of rain, plants, and a jaguar that had passed recently, had made him vibrate with pure, animal desire. He’d wanted to hunt, to feed, to mate.

He’d understood the moment he’d set foot on the site why Fade had chosen it. There was an elemental power at play there, and no underworld creature would be able to resist it. A gladiatorial arena placed on the soil would become the demon equivalent of the Roman Colosseum, and with the blood sacrifice to bind evil to it . . . it was conceivable that the land could be claimed in the name of Sheoul—or hell, as humans called it.

The very idea was horrifying, but right now Nate was having trouble concentrating on anything but the female in front of him. He was so aroused, so on fire that he expected to see smoke from the friction of his clothes on his skin. Finding her with that asshole vampire, their relationship so familiar, hadn’t helped. Nate had wanted to destroy the male, deliver his fangs to Vladlena on a necklace, and then rut with her on the very ground where he’d won the battle.

And wasn’t that sexy. He nearly rolled his eyes. Damned jungle had turned him into a caveman.

Running with the caveman thing . . . he got all testosterone-buzzed at the sight of her wearing his gift. It might be a mere stethoscope, but she’d accepted his offering, and for some reason, it made him want to beat his chest and drag her into his lair. Instead, because a sliver of civility had pierced through the jungle haze, he gripped her shoulders and pushed her against the wall. She didn’t protest. Not that he expected her to; the scent of her desire filled the room with her special perfume, ratcheting up his need even more.

But ultimately, this wasn’t about his desperation to get between those toned thighs. This was about saving her from an excruciating death on an altar—a death he was tasked to be responsible for.

No, he couldn’t profess that he didn’t want this for himself—he’d been unnaturally obsessed with Lena since she walked into his office. Even her virginity should have been a turnoff. He’d avoided virgins like their veins ran with holy water instead of blood. But in Lena’s case . . . damn. A purr vibrated his chest at the thought of being her first, of laying claim to her the way no other male had.

Of taking her for his own and keeping her.

Except that couldn’t happen. This would be a one-time thing, because if Fade even suspected that Nate wanted her, she was dead.

Or worse, if Fade found out that Nate had been the one to take her virginity. And Nate was well aware that there could be worse.

Shoving that thought out of his mind, he cupped the back of her head and lowered his mouth to hers. Again, she didn’t fight him. In fact, she opened for him, her hands coming down on his ass to pull him closer. He was already hard—hell, he’d been hard for days—and her soft belly cradled his aching erection with just enough pressure to be considered torture.

Man, he wished he could take his time with her, could ease her into her first time, but the clock was ticking, and when this particular hourglass ran out, so would her life.

Inhaling raggedly, he palmed her fine ass and lifted her so her legs were around his waist and his cock was in contact with her core. They both groaned at the sensation, and as he slid her up and down while rocking into her, her groan turned into a soft cry of pleasure. He spun toward the exam table, because while he couldn’t seduce her properly in a soft bed, he could at least make sure her first time wasn’t against a wall or on the floor.

“Need to be inside you,” he murmured against her lips. “Need to make you scream my name.”

“Yes,” she breathed. Her back arched, and her hot center rubbed him so perfectly, so sweetly, he damn near came right then and there. “Wait . . .” In his arms, she stiffened. “No. I can’t.”

“You don’t have any patience.” He nipped her jaw, then licked the tender skin there. He couldn’t wait to be at her throat, taking her inside him as he moved inside her.

Her palms flattened against his chest, and before he could put her on the table, she writhed hard enough to make him lose his grip, and her feet hit the floor. “I’m not having sex with you.”

“Yes,” he said roughly, “you are.”

He seized her by the waist and hauled her against him, one hand going to her scrub bottoms’ drawstring. The storm of lust gathering inside him intensified, a raging force of nature fueled by the residual stir of the jungle, unquenched thirst for Lena, and a carnal instinct to possess the female he’d had in his sights for days.

Lightning fast, she hauled off and slapped him. “Release me.” She didn’t wait for him to obey. With a surprisingly vicious stomp on his foot, she threw herself backwards, crashing into the supply tray and knocking metal instruments everywhere.

She didn’t get far. “Dammit, woman!” He caught her around the torso and pinned her between his body and a cabinet.

Son of a bitch. This couldn’t have gone worse, but it was too late to turn on the charm, and he knew it. He’d never forced a female in his life, and he wouldn’t cross that line now. But he’d do what he had to in order to save her life. Steeling himself for her response to what was going to be the most dickheaded thing he’d ever said or done, he wrapped his fingers around her throat and bared his fangs.

“You’ll sleep with me, or you’re fired.”

Her throat convulsed beneath his fingers and her eyes shot wide open. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Fuck or flee. Your choice.”

She began to tremble, and gods, he felt like a bastard. “You . . . asshole.”

“Guess that’s your answer.” He released her and stepped back. “Pack your shit, turn in your uniform, and never come back to this place. Do you understand me, Lena? Never, ever return.” He wheeled around and yanked open the door, stopping when a miscellany of medical supplies pelted his back.

“Go to hell, Nathan.” She beaned him with her stethoscope, which fell to the floor next to his feet, sprawled like a dead snake. “Go. To. Hell.”

Not a problem, he thought, as he exited the office. He was already there.

Chapter 8

Vladlena stood in the medical office like a dolt, stunned to the core. Dangling from her fingers were the set of keys she’d lifted off Nate when she’d realized what he wanted from her and how serious he was about getting it.

What didn’t sit well with her was the sickening knowledge that had she been able to have sex with him, she would have. He wouldn’t even have had to threaten her. She’d have been his for the taking.

Gods, she was an idiot.

She looked around at the supplies scattered on the floor, some of them a result of her clumsiness, some from hurling them at Nate. How could he have turned into such a coldhearted bastard like that? The answer smacked her upside the head with a big, fat, duh-stick. What else had she expected from someone who was most likely pitting fighters against each other in death matches?

The reality was a welcome cold fist to the solar plexus. Anger and hurt collided, but panic quickly overshadowed the mix. She was out of time. If she didn’t find the fight club now, she never would.

Eschewing stealth, she crossed the dance floor, stalked down the hall to Nate’s office, and knocked loudly. No answer. She tried the door. Unlocked. So she didn’t need his keys after all.

She placed them on the desk, but before she did anything stupid, she made a quick call to Underworld General and left a message with the triage nurse. After hanging up, she tripped the secret door. It swung open with no more sound than a whisper of air, revealing exactly what she’d both hoped and dreaded to find; a passageway.

She took one deep, bracing breath, and started down the stairs.

At the base, she became aware of her surroundings, that they were nothing but a cold, claustrophobic tunnel of cement and stone. As she walked, the sound of cheers rose up, growing louder, until she couldn’t hear herself think, but she could definitely feel her stomach churning.

It was real. It was all real, and Nate, that . . . that . . . dick . . . was smack dab in the middle of it all.

Rounding a corner, she caught sight of an opening ahead. A mass of bodies blocked her view of whatever was beyond, but if the snarls, growls, and grotesque wet thumps were any indication, she’d found the fight club. Unwelcome visions of her brother being in the middle of all this assaulted her brain, and she squeezed her eyes closed and halted for just a moment.

Get it together . . .

She started moving again, pushing her leaden feet forward, and too late she noticed the two sentries standing just outside the entrance. Her heart tripped over itself, and so did her feet, but thankfully, even as she fell forward out of the tunnel, one of the big males merely grabbed her, smiled, and released her into the crowd. Apparently, they were there to prevent people from entering the tunnel, not leaving it.

The air was ripe with the scent of blood, lust, and fury. Quickly but carefully, she eased through the crowd, searching for the public entrance. Once she found that, she could get the hell out of here and back to Underworld General to report the location—

A hand came down on her shoulder, and she whirled, drew a harsh, startled breath when she came face to face with Fade, whose eyes were glowing crimson.

“You don’t belong here, little girl,” he grated.

Before she could say a word, he jerked her into him, squeezed her neck, and all went black.

Chapter 9

For decades, Nate had been dead, his heart little more than a desiccated knot of muscle sitting uselessly in his chest. But as Gladius’s manager, Budag, rubbed his bald head and told Nate about Vladlena’s foray into the fight club, Nate’s heart began to stir.

No, not just stir. It went mad with fear, worry, and dread. That damned shifter nurse had performed CPR on him, resurrecting his cold, undead self.

“Release her,” Nate ground out. He looked past Budag’s hulking shoulder from where he stood at the tunnel threshold between Gladius and Thirst. The crowd was wound up about something, and bloodlust was in the air.

“No can do, vampire.” Budag’s deep voice rattled Nate’s temper. “Fade already put her in the ring for a bait match.”

Nate lost it. He slammed the demon into the wall and got right up in his face, fangs bared, ready to take a chunk of flesh out of him. “You fucking lie! He wouldn’t have done that. She was going to be a sacrifice—”

“Since she stuck her nose where it didn’t belong, she was no longer desirable as a sacrifice.” Budag’s almond eyes crinkled with amusement. “At least, not a sacrifice for the new fight club. The Neethul twins are enjoying her plenty as a sacrifice.”

Nate didn’t waste another second. Heaving Budag aside, he plowed through the crowd, shoving people out of the way as he hauled ass to the ring. His heart, if it beat, would have stopped at the sight of Lena, her uniform ripped and bloodied, trying to fend off the two elf-like demons who were toying with her. And there was no question that they were toying. He’d seen the brothers fight, and right now, they were like hellhounds with a cornered cat.

Nate didn’t think. He acted. Acted himself right into the arena and caught the demons by surprise. Taking advantage of their temporary confusion, he punched his fist into one of the males’ neck and ripped out his throat. Blood and strings of gore dripped from his hand, and the audience roared.

The remaining Neethul barely cast his dead brother a glance as he came at Nate with a deflesher, a thick chain with a razor stirrup at the end. Wielded properly, the weapon could fillet a six-inch wide strip of flesh off the entire length of an arm and leave it bare to the bone.

The demon was an expert with it.

Shit. All around, the crowd hushed, leaving only Lena’s scream and the whistle of the chain as it cut the air. Nate dove to the blood-soaked sand and rolled, lashing out with his feet. The razor stirrup slammed into the ground next to Nate’s head as his kick caught his opponent in the knees. The Neethul fell but was up again in an instant.

So was Nate. Before the demon could do a rewind with the chain, Nate slammed into him, knocking them both into the cement retaining wall. Sharp teeth sank into Nate’s shoulder, and son of a bitch, that hurt.

Dimly, through the haze of pain, Nate heard the crowd go ballistic, their chants of, “Kill! Kill! Kill!” buzzing in his ears. His past came down on him in a shroud of memory, and just as it had been all those years ago, it would be that way again.

With a snarl, he gripped the demon’s head and twisted. The snap of spine was swallowed by the audience’s noise, which became deafening when Nate dropped the body and left it, twitching, on the ground.

Lena was standing a few feet away, her face bruised and pale, one eye blackened and blood trickling from the corner of her swollen mouth. She’d been battered to hell and back, but defiance burned in her eyes. Hate, too, and he didn’t blame her.

Still, she didn’t resist when he took her hand and led her to the gate used to transport both the dead and the living in and out of the arena. The giant iron rack rattled and clanged as it heaved upward, but Nate didn’t have a chance to be grateful that they were being let out.

Fade stood there, flanked by three burly rhino-fiends who worked in the “zoo” one level below, the dark, dank area where fighters and bait creatures were kept. None of them looked happy, Fade least of all.

“Obviously,” Fade rumbled, “you didn’t learn the first time you took a female from me.”

Nate tightened his grip on Lena. “I don’t want to lose a good medic,” he said, even though he knew his excuse was both tired and lame. If it hadn’t worked before, it wouldn’t work now.

Fade knew it too. And he wasn’t going to let slide the fact that Nate had killed two of his most popular fighters. The Neethul twins had been fairly new to the fighting scene, but their good looks and penchant for cruelly toying with their victims had been big draws for the crowds.

“How stupid do you think I am?” Fade signaled to his goons. “Lock them up.” His smile at Nate was pure evil. “Congratulations, Sabine. Once again, you get to watch your female die.”

For about thirty seconds after Fade shut his creepy mouth, Lena was sure Nate was going to explode into violence. After what she’d seen him do to the Neethuls, she knew he was very capable of it. In fact, the tension rose up in him so strongly that she could feel it in a tangible crackle in the inch of air between them and see it in his massively descended fangs and red-glowing eyes. But even as the demons tensed for battle, Nate calmed, almost as if the air had been let out of him.

He’d walked meekly alongside the demons, though he hadn’t let go of Lena. It wasn’t until they were thrown into a cell together that the depth of his anger became clear. As Fade’s laughter and the guards’ footsteps melted away, Nate rounded on her, fists clenched, the fire burning in his eyes again.

His voice was warped with rage. “I told you to leave.”

“You fired me for not sleeping with you,” she shot back, strangely grateful for his anger, because it kept her from falling apart. “I didn’t think you really had any right to order me around after that. You don’t even have any right to be angry with me, asshole.”

“How did you find Gladius?” he snapped, as if she hadn’t even spoken. “Did you follow me down here?”

“It doesn’t matter how I found it. What matters is that you’re a bastard. A sick, twisted, evil bastard who operates a business where death is entertainment.” She could have sworn she saw hurt flash in his eyes before they became chips of ruby ice again, but that didn’t stop her rant. “Why did you bother to save me? You should have bet on the outcome like everyone else.”

“Shut up.” His voice was as cold as his gaze.

“What’s the matter? Did I strike a nerve? Feeling a little guilty? Or are you upset that you got yourself into trouble with your boss?”

He took a step forward. “I said, shut up.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me? Newsflash, buddy. It’s going to happen anyway. But you can bet that if I disappear, my colleagues are going to tear this place down and feed it to you before they slaughter your ass.”

Actually, she hoped they’d pull a cavalry and rescue her. She just had to pray Eidolon and his brothers got her message before she was fed to the lions. Or whatever creatures were screeching in the nearby cages.

One second Nate was standing near the door, and the next he was chest to chest with her, pinning her against the wall. It didn’t escape her notice that they spent a lot of time in this position.

“Your colleagues,” he ground out. “At Underworld General? It’s time to stop with the games, little shifter, and tell me who the fuck you are and why you’re really here.”

“Bite me.”

That was so the wrong thing to say to a vampire who was teetering on the edge. He struck like a viper, sinking his fangs deep in her throat, and despite the dire situation, despite her anger and hurt and confusion at how he’d treated her and his involvement in the fight club, she gasped with pleasure. The initial sting turned into a lovely burn that spread through her body in the form of liquid heat. Vampires could make feeding horrifically painful or orgasmically wonderful, and clearly, Nate had gone with the latter.

But she couldn’t allow this. She hated him. Really. Weakly, she flattened her palms against his chest and shoved, but she didn’t need to. His head snapped up and he stepped back all by himself, surprise glittering in his eyes.

“You’re no tiger,” he snarled. “Damn you, has everything about you been a lie?”

She slapped her hand over the punctures in her throat. “Me? You’re the one who has a hidden door in his office. You’re the one who’s been hiding a club where people fight to the death.”

His nostrils flared, and his gaze zeroed in on her neck. Before she could protest, he peeled away her palm and licked the fang punctures, sealing the wound.

“Gods,” he murmured against her skin. “You taste like dark chocolate, and honey, and . . . canine.” He tore away from her, leaving her swaying unsteadily and relying on the wall behind her to hold her up. He faced away from her, his hands running through his hair over and over, as if doing so was as important to his existence as blood. “Why? Why are you here?”

“Because you murdered my brother.”

He wheeled around. “Who was your brother?”

“Given the number of people who probably pass through your arena, I doubt you’ll remember him,” she said bitterly.

“Who?”

“His name was Vaughn.” She raised her chin, meeting his gaze so he could see her pain. “He was a hyena shifter who died last week.”

“Hyena . . .” Nate’s brow furrowed. “Blond. Mismatched green and blue eyes.”

“So you do know who he was.”

Nate’s tongue flicked over one of the fangs he’d sunk into her flesh. “You’re not a hyena any more than you’re a tiger.”

“I am,” she ground out. “And you killed my brother.”

He snorted. “Your brother killed himself.”

With a pained cry, she launched herself at Nate. He caught her easily, well before she landed a single blow. “You son of a bitch,” she screamed. “You evil, heartless son of a bitch!”

From the nearby cages, she heard catcalls and cheers, as well as a few curses. Nate tugged her against him, his arms wrapping tightly around her, caging her so she couldn’t strike out.

“Shh.” His soft voice didn’t penetrate her anger. “Hey. Listen to me. Your brother came to us. He made a deal for a fight.”

“No. No! He wouldn’t—”

“He said he was dying.”

Dying? She stilled completely, freezing solid against Nate’s big body. “I don’t . . . I don’t understand. Why did he say that?”

“I don’t know.” He relaxed his hold, but still cradled her against his chest. “All I know is that he wanted to fight one of our champions, a hyena named Vic. And Vaughn made a provision that if he died in battle, Vic would leave Vaughn’s sister alone. I guess that’s you.”

“Oh, gods,” she whispered. “Vic. He’s here?”

“Yeah. Nasty bastard. Why would Vaughn want Vic to leave you alone?”

“Because,” she said, on a shaky inhale, “ever since my father died, Vic and my other brother, Van, have tried to kill me every few months.”

Curses fell from Nate’s mouth. “So Vaughn was here to guarantee your safety.”

His hand cupped the back of her head with surprising tenderness, and his voice softened, which was something she couldn’t afford to do. If Nate was telling the truth, he hadn’t killed Vaughn, exactly, but he was still a scumbag who ran a vile operation.

And yet, she didn’t pull away. She told herself she needed the support because her legs had gone all noodle. She told herself she was cold, and while he wasn’t overly warm, he wasn’t as icy as the air that smelled like raw sewage. She told herself all kinds of lies, because right now, she couldn’t handle the truth, the mind-boggling realization that hate was not the only thing she felt for Nate Sabine.

“Poor Vaughn,” she murmured. “He should have come to me. He didn’t need to sacrifice himself for me.”

“He loved you.” Nate paused. “Is there a reason he wouldn’t shift?”

“What do you mean?”

He made long, soothing passes over her braid. “He didn’t shift when he was fighting Vic. It put him at a huge disadvantage. I thought it was strange, because even if his intention was to lose, he clearly hated Vic and wanted to hurt him. Vaughn could have done a lot more hurting in animal form.”

A knot twisted her insides. He said he was dying. Those were Nate’s words. Her brother was dying. He didn’t shift. Oh . . . oh, gods. He didn’t shift because he couldn’t. He’d been dying for the same reason she was.

“Lena?” His hand stopped stroking her hair. “Lena, what’s wrong?”

“I know why he didn’t shift.” She swallowed. “He couldn’t. A shifter who has never turned into his animal dies shortly after they turn twenty-four. It’s why I didn’t leave when you fired me. There was no point.”

“What do you mean, there was no point?” He pulled back to look her in the eye. “Wait . . . in the arena, you didn’t shift. You can’t, can you?”

“No,” she said quietly. “And because of that, I’m dying too.”

Chapter 10

A sick, bitter sadness shattered the anger Nate had felt over Lena’s revelation of deception. He’d rescued her from the Neethul brothers because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Now, thanks to a fucked-up genetic glitch, he was going to lose her anyway.

“Can’t someone at Underworld General do something?” His voice was humiliatingly hoarse.

“We’ve tried.” Lena heaved a sigh and plopped down on the straw-coated floor. “There’s nothing left to do.”

“Why would you and Vaughn be unable to shift when your other brother can?” Nate went down on his heels in front of her.

“Both of my other brothers can. I’ve seen them. I never saw Vaughn do it, but I guess now I know why.” She rubbed her arms as though cold. “I think it might be because we were born different. When shifters give birth in animal form, the babies are born that way too. But Vaughn and I weren’t. My father had to protect us from our brothers for years. Even our mother wanted to kill us.”

He stripped off the T-shirt he’d worn straight in from the jungle and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl, and was surprised when she didn’t argue. “What a way to come into the world.”

Shivering, she tugged the ends of the shirt tight. “What about you? How did you come into the world?”

“The supernatural one?” At her nod, he made himself comfortable on the ground. “It was two hundred years ago. I was twenty-seven, stumbling home after a night out with the boys in Paris. It was dark, foggy. Right out of a Jack the Ripper movie. I heard what sounded like a brawl coming from an alley, and like an idiot, I investigated.” He remembered being horrified when he saw what looked like a huge, armored man in a bloody battle with a hooved, red-skinned, horned thing. “Now I know that one of the males doing battle was a demon. The other . . . he was a vampire, but not one like I’ve ever known.”

“What happened?”

Nate had stood there, shitfaced and blinking, as if it was all a drunken mirage. “The vampire killed the demon, but he was injured. Badly. He had a gushing wound in his neck, and when he saw me, his eyes lit like the fires of hell. I tried to run, but he was on me and feeding before I could stumble two steps.”

“So he forced you to drink his blood to turn you?”

“That’s the weird thing,” he said. “There was no blood exchange.”

She frowned. “You sure you just don’t remember? Because to make a vampire—” Blushing, she cut herself off. “Sorry. Duh.”

Gods, she was cute. How the hell could she be a hyena? She couldn’t. He’d have tasted it in her blood. The same blood that had left a trail in the corner of her mouth. Without thinking, he reached out and wiped it away with his thumb. He wanted to linger, to frame her face in his hands and kiss away her pain, but the wariness in her doe eyes told him she still wasn’t ready to take him for anything other than a miserable son of a bitch who profited off the blood of others.

Reluctantly, he dropped his arm. “I’m sure he didn’t do the blood exchange. He wasn’t normal. I can’t explain it, but whatever he was, he turned me . . . and made me different.”

“Different?”

He lowered his voice, because he’d learned a long time ago that this wasn’t something to be said out loud. “I can walk in the sunlight.”

Lena blinked. “That’s . . . that’s not possible.”

“I know. And yet, I can hang out on a tropical beach at noon.”

“Okay, so then what?” she asked, sounding very much like a medical professional digging to the bottom of a mysterious ailment.

“I went home to my wife. I don’t remember much, but I remember waking up so fucking hungry.” He hadn’t understood what was going on, only that he was starving, and the sound of Eleanor’s beating heart was driving him mad. “I attacked her. Nearly drained her.” She’d screamed, pummeled him with her delicate fists, calling him a monster. Which he was. “Afterward, she lay there on the bed, pale and limp, and a weird instinct to feed her my blood came over me, and . . . I did. But I didn’t know what I’d done. When she died a couple hours later, I went insane. That’s the only way to describe it. I took off, and the next decade was a blur. My mind came back gradually, and I decided I needed answers. I traveled all over Europe, trying to find the asshole who turned me, looking for other vampires. It was a shock to learn that other vamps couldn’t go out in the daylight.”

“You’re the only one?”

“There have always been rumors of others, but I’ve never found any. And I learned real fast not to announce my own sun-loving nature.” Other vampires either tried to kill him out of jealousy, or they wanted to experiment on him in order to find a way to cure their own issues with severe sunburn. “So anyway, eventually I realized it was possible that Eleanor could be a vampire, given what I’d done to her.” He closed his lids, but that didn’t shut out the memory. “I found her, in London. She hated me for what I’d done to her, and she’d moved on, right into Fade’s arms.”

“Oh, damn,” Lena breathed. She touched his knee, a soothing gesture he didn’t think she realized she’d made. “That must have been hard for you.”

He had to clear his throat of the lump of emotion before he continued, and it struck him that the memory wasn’t what was affecting him, but Lena’s concern.

“I was furious,” he said, “but I still loved her. So I seduced her away from him.” Nate looked down at Lena’s hand, which looked so dainty on his leg. “That proved to be a fatal mistake. I didn’t realize what he was. He chased us all over Europe, and when he caught us . . .” He trailed off, his mouth drying up and acid scouring his veins. Fade had tortured the fuck out of both of them, and then he’d dragged them both to one of his fight clubs, where he’d tortured them some more.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What happened, Nate?”

“He put Eleanor in a pit with two Cruentus demons. She put up a good fight, injuring one so badly that he had to be put down. But the other killed her. I had to watch the whole thing.”

“I’m so sorry.” Lena’s nimble fingers stroked his leg. No one since Eleanor had offered him comfort like that. He’d missed so much in his life, and it had taken Lena to make him realize it. Now it was too late. “So did he let you go?”

“He made me fight. He was pissed that I didn’t die the first time in the ring. Or the second, or the twentieth. Turns out that I’m more powerful than other vampires. Probably connected to the sunlight thing. Eventually, I grew numb to the death around me, and I started craving the fights. A way to release my hatred, you know?” No, she probably didn’t. “All the while, I plotted escape, and when I thought the time was right, I pretended I was over what Fade had done to me and Eleanor, and I made a deal with him. I’d fight his biggest rival’s champion, and if I won, he’d release me.”

“So you won.”

He snorted. “Nearly died, and I needed a week to recover, but I won.” He listened to the screech of some creature, took a deep breath, and continued. “I was still full of hate, but I knew I couldn’t kill Fade—I’d seen too many try. So I figured I’d do it from the inside.”

Lena regarded him steadily, with no judgment in her gaze. “You started working for him.”

“Yep. I claimed to be desperate for money, and since I’d once run a tavern, he thought I’d be useful in his social clubs. I had it all figured out. I was going to ruin him, sabotage his business so his customers would either kill him or bring Justice Dealers down on his head. Problem was, he was two steps ahead of me. He found my only living relative. My nephew.”

Her fingers tightened on his leg. “What did he do?”

“Cagey bastard got a vampire to turn him so he’d live long enough to keep me under his thumb. Then he gave him a job here so I’d have to see every day what I’ll lose if I don’t keep the fight club from going under.”

She sucked in a surprised breath. “Marsden. He’s your nephew, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. But he doesn’t know it. I was turned when he was only two, and I didn’t want to expose my sister and him to what I’d become, so I let them think I was dead.” He rolled his eyes. “Guess I am.” Okay, technically, he was. But for the first time since being turned, he didn’t feel that way. Lena had made him very much alive. “You should have left when I told you to, Lena. You should have gone and never looked back.”

“You know why I couldn’t.” She shot him a glare. “And you pissed me off.”

Right. That. What the hell . . . he might as well tell her the truth. It wasn’t as if any of it mattered now.

“I was trying to save your life,” he said. “Fade needed a virgin sacrifice for a new fight club he’s breaking ground on. If you wouldn’t sleep with me, I had to get you the hell out of the club and keep you away.”

She blinked. “How did you know I’m . . .”

“A virgin? I didn’t. He did.”

She cocked a blond eyebrow, clearly dubious about his intentions. “So you thought you’d be saving my life by having sex with me?”

Sounded so lame when she put it that way. “Ah . . . yeah. But I underestimated your willingness to hang onto your virginity.”

“I think you overestimated your effect on the opposite sex,” she said wryly.

“Me? Nah.” He winked, enjoying the brief moment of levity. “You wanted me.”

She made a low, needy sound that would have lit him on fire if they were anywhere but being held captive in a moldy dungeon. “I did want you.”

“Then why did you refuse? We could have avoided this mess if you’d just slept with me.”

“I can’t have sex.” She averted her gaze as though ashamed. “Another shifting issue. It’s impossible for me.”

Now he felt like an even bigger piece of shit for coming down on her when she didn’t jump into bed with him. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly.

Footsteps pounded outside the cage, keeping him from saying anything else. Not that he knew what to say. When Fade and two of his henchmen stopped at the door, he wasn’t surprised.

“It’s time.” Fade tapped on the door’s iron bars in an annoyingly cheery tempo. “With me, Sabine. Your female is going to the arena.”

Nate exploded to his feet, putting himself between the demon and Lena. “You’re not touching her.” He hadn’t been able to protect Eleanor, but by the gods, he’d die before he let Lena be killed.

The two rhino-fiends raised their weapons—lightning sticks, demon inventions that cast a bolt of something that was a cross between electricity and acid. As it stunned you into temporary paralyzation, it ate away the flesh around the area it had struck.

“Nate,” Lena murmured, her palm coming down on his back. “Please. Go with them.”

That wasn’t going to happen. Time for plan B. He pegged Fade with a hard look. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

Fade nodded at one of the grayish demons with him, and the thing opened the door.

Lena clutched Nate’s arm, holding desperately tight. “Whatever you’re planning . . . don’t.” She lowered her voice as he turned to face her. “I’m dying anyway. Please, don’t make this harder on yourself.”

“Lena.” He cupped the back of her head and put his lips to her ear. “I haven’t had anything worth living for in a long time. Now I do. Trust me.”

He felt guilty for lying, because although what he’d just said was the truth, there was more to it. He also hadn’t had anything worth dying for in a long time. Now he did.

Without looking back, he exited the cell and walked with Fade to the staging area, an open room containing magical artifacts, painted symbols, and an altar. Fury built with every step, all the hatred that had burned out coming back with a vengeance, and Nate welcomed it like an old friend. Once inside, he rounded on the demon.

“Put me in the ring, motherfucker. Put me in there instead of her.”

“That would hardly be fair,” Fade growled. “We don’t have a fighter who can beat you.”

“You can.”

Fade’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re challenging me?”

“Challenging? I plan to kill you. But if I lose, Vladlena goes free.” The demon would take the deal, because the source of his power didn’t come from combatants who won—it came from those who lost. It was why the fight club was so popular . . . people from all over came to fight and lose, knowing they could get whatever they wanted upon their deaths . . . wealth for their children, revenge on an enemy, protection for a loved one. The catch was that if you lost, Fade collected your soul, and most challengers didn’t realize just what “losing your soul” meant.

In this case, it meant that Fade traded the souls he gathered to the highest bidder, and there were people you did not want to own your soul.

“And if I lose?” Fade asked.

“The club is mine.”

Fade hesitated.

“Come on,” Nate cajoled. “You know you won’t lose. And even if you do, you can resurrect.”

Fade hissed. “How do you know?”

“You think I didn’t learn everything there was to learn about your sorry ass?” Nate had just signed his own death warrant. Fade couldn’t risk anyone knowing the truth about him. An enemy who knew how to kill him permanently . . . yeah, not good for someone who had so many enemies.

“What else do you know?”

“You mean, do I know that Budag is your vivacant?” Nate smiled. “That he, and he alone, can bring you back to life? Yeah, I know that. The only reason I haven’t killed him is that I couldn’t risk you finding out I did it and taking it out on Marsden.”

Fade’s skin rippled, the texture alternating between wrinkled and smooth, the color doing a chameleon between tan, red, and the surrounding gray walls. The dude was both excited and angry, something Nate had seen only a handful of times. In his research, he’d learned that the skin thing was a reaction to stress, a natural process that increased the demon’s strength and stamina. Not good.

Fade snatched a parchment from the stack on the altar and slapped it down hard on the stone. “Let’s write this up, vampire. And then I’m grinding you into hellhound food.”

Chapter 11

It had taken everything Lena had not to break down as Nate walked away. She might not know his world like he did, but she had keen senses, and she’d smelled trouble.

Which came in the form of three ugly, horned demons bearing those funky knotted sticks. She’d started to fight them, but after they’d explained what the sticks did, she decided to save her strength for when it would do her more good. Now, blindfolded and shackled, Lena tripped and stumbled her way down the passage, the two demons on either side of her dragging and pushing if she slowed down.

The sound of an anxious crowd, and of blood, bowels, and excrement grew stronger, and she knew she was once again entering the vile arena. One of the demons removed her shackles while the other stripped off her blindfold, and then she was shoved through the gate into the blinding light of the pit.

The first thing she saw was Nate, barefoot, bare-chested, wearing only jeans. His hands were fisted around an ax handle as he faced Fade, who held a wicked curved blade and a wooden stake. Every drop of color drained from Nate’s face when he saw her.

“Hey, sis.”

She wheeled around. “Vic,” she gasped. “What . . . what are you doing?”

Vic pegged her with those black marbles he called eyes. “I’m finally going to rid the world of your weakness.”

“But Vaughn—”

“I told Vaughn I’d leave you alone on your turf. This is mine.” His body began to morph, the sound of bones cracking and reshaping so unbelievably loud in the noisy club.

Lena backed away, knowing full well that when the ten-second process was over, she’d be facing a 250-pound hyena that was far more powerful than its full-animal counterpart.

“This wasn’t part of the deal!” Nate snarled.

Fade’s laughter rang out, echoing endlessly. “You die, she lives. That was the deal,” Fade said. “But if she dies before you do . . .” He shrugged. “Well, that can’t be helped, can it?”

A low-pitched, jagged growl brought her attention back to Vic, who was now all animal. All monster. Drool dripped from his open mouth, which exposed sharp teeth meant to rip flesh from victims while he ate them alive. Terror welled as she eased backward, scanning the area for a weapon. Unfortunately, there was nothing, and though both her father and Wraith had spent time with her in Underworld General’s gym, teaching her self-defense, she knew damned good and well that her meager hand-to-hand skills weren’t going to help her against the beast in front of her.

Nate moved so fast she didn’t see him until he was at her side, swinging the ax. Vic yelped as the blade grazed him in the shoulder, but then Fade was there, his weapon coming down in a vicious arc.

Nate whirled, narrowly avoiding being beheaded, but his own swing at the demon went wild, leaving an opening for Vic. Her brother lunged, catching her forearm between his jaws. A firestorm of agony accompanied the crunch of bone. Screaming, she punched him in the head, but she was no match for the brother who had beaten her in every battle since they were cubs. He shook her like a rag doll, and her world became a blur.

A warm spray splattered her face—her own blood, she realized, as Vic sent her flying into the wall. Pain shattered her ribs, spine, and arm as she crumpled to the ground. Though she could hear the battle between Nate and Fade clearly, she could barely see through the veil of red dripping into her eyes. In a split second, though, her vision filled with fur and teeth. She twisted, barely avoiding having her face ripped off, and at the same time, she jammed her good arm back, nailing the hyena in the throat.

Vic gagged and fell back, but murder burned like coals in his eyes. When he came at her again, she knew she was dead. Hot, fetid breath scoured her face and claws tore into her shoulders. In a frenzy fueled by fear and adrenaline, she kicked, hit, lifted her knee to nail the beast in the gut.

Once again, blood sprayed her. Arterial blood, and a lot of it. Vic had killed her. He’d finally . . . dropped to the ground? She blinked, scrambling backward in the sand like a crab. Vic’s body, split open through his rib cage, lay sprawled against the wall, twitching as it shifted back into human form.

Nate had killed her brother. Maybe it was wrong of Lena to not feel bad about it, but right now she didn’t care. Ax blade dripping with streaks of shiny crimson, Nate tried to swing back around to Fade, but saving her life had already cost him. Fade’s blade flashed, and Nate went down, hamstrung all the way to his thigh bone.

“Nate!” Hauling herself to her feet, she staggered toward him.

The crowd cheered, their bloodthirsty chants ringing in her ears. Fade leaped into the air, his spin-kick landing hard on Nate’s jaw. Before Nate could recover, the demon seized Nate’s wrist and flung him like a Frisbee across the arena. Nate’s body hit the far wall with a thump.

He didn’t move.

“No!” Horror and pain squeezed Lena’s heart, and as Fade sauntered toward Nate, stake poised to strike a death blow, her legs gave out. Confusion and helplessness collided, spinning her emotions out of control. She wanted to scream, but nothing would come. She wanted to help Nate, but she couldn’t get her limbs to work.

Her entire body stung, stretched, felt like it was coming apart at the seams. Was she . . . yes. She was shifting. Massive gray paws hit the ground, the wrong color for a hyena, but screw it, she didn’t care. Power ripped through her . . . power and strength and clarity. Without hesitation, she tore across the arena, a sense of elation, of freedom, singing through her veins with every leap and bound.

She hit Fade in the back and closed her jaws around his head. Even as she crunched down on his skull, she heard a commotion, a ripple in the crowd.

She scented them before she saw them—Eidolon and his brothers. His sister. Con. And several others from the hospital and Eidolon’s extended family. Even some members of The Aegis.

She didn’t think, just . . . shifted back before any of their weapons tore through her like Nate’s ax had done to Vic. Her saviors were like locusts, sweeping through the place and fighting the guards. Eidolon and Shade rushed to her, but she shook her head.

“I’m okay. But Nate needs help.”

Help was putting it mildly. He was unconscious, a stake sitting dead center in his chest and multiple, deep gashes all over his body, some gaping so wide that shredded muscle spilled out like raw meat. One leg was nearly severed, and his handsome face was all but unrecognizable.

“We need to get him back to UG, stat.” E’s tone was grim as he kneeled next to Nate. “The stake in his chest is a frag spike.”

Fear was an icy spear in Lena’s gut. Frag spikes were designed to kill vampires the same as a regular stake, but they fragmented like a bullet when they entered flesh, allowing for more chances to strike a lethal blow. Even if they didn’t kill right away, the slivers took on lives of their own, traveling around the body until they found the heart.

“Lena,” Shade said, even as he signaled to one of the medics for a portable stretcher, “do you want this?”

She knew what he was asking. Inside the hospital, the brothers performed their duties on even the most vile creatures. Outside was another story. If she gave the word, Shade and Eidolon would put Nate out of his misery right then and there. But Nate wasn’t the monster she’d thought he was, and she nodded.

“I want this more than anything,” she said softly. “Save him.”

Chapter 12

Nate hadn’t felt this crappy since . . . well, he couldn’t remember when. Consciousness was elusive, and when he did manage to grasp it and hold on for more than a few moments, pain wracked him and made him wish for slumber again.

Except that he needed to be awake, because he kept hearing Vladlena’s voice, and he was desperate to know that he wasn’t dreaming her softly-spoken words.

Slowly, he pried open his eyes. A grayish fog swirled all around him, but through it he could make out hospital equipment and walls scrawled with red symbols. On the ceiling, thick chains hung in neat loops, and when he turned his head to look out the open doorway, he saw people in scrubs moving past. Beyond them . . .

He blinked. Blinked again. The fog didn’t clear, but a person came into focus, a person he hadn’t seen since the day he became a vampire.

It was the male who had turned him.

The massive guy hadn’t changed; he was still wearing some sort of plate bone armor, and his pale hair still hung to his shoulders, with two thin braids at each temple. Tattoos on his throat writhed as he spoke with a Seminus demon in a black paramedic uniform.

Nate waited for the hot, searing hatred to wash over him, the way it always had when he thought of the male who had taken Nate’s mortal life from him. But nothing happened. Nate had fantasized about finding the bastard and dismembering him slowly, making him pay for what he’d done.

Now . . . now Nate was oddly calm about seeing the guy. The person Nate really wanted to see was Lena, and so far, she was a no-show.

Nate.

She might be a no-show, but her sweet voice was a soothing whisper in his head. Closing his eyes, he let the male who’d made him a vampire disappear, and he concentrated on Lena, wishing he’d had a chance to make love to her.

Nate.

He inhaled, caught a whiff of the fresh scent unique to Lena’s silky skin. Rolling his head to the side, he opened his eyes again. She was standing next to him, dressed in purple scrubs, fiddling with an IV bag of blood. And she was wearing his stethoscope.

“Hey.” Her smile wrapped around his heart, and he smiled back like a besotted fool. “It’s about time you woke up. As soon as this bag empties, you should be back almost to 100 percent.”

“Are you . . .” He had to clear his throat of what seemed to be a year of disuse. “Are you okay?”

“Eidolon healed me when we first came in. Two days ago, in case you’re wondering.” She took his hand, her warm palm heating him. “For a while there, I thought I was going to lose you.”

He’d thought that too. But then she’d come out of nowhere, all fur and fangs, and . . . “You shifted,” he whispered. “I saw you.” What she’d shifted into was another question. He’d never seen anything like the huge, beautiful canine.

“I’m free, Nate.” Her voice was full of charming, childlike excitement. “I’m going to live.”

Nate pushed himself up on one elbow. “How did it happen?”

The sound of a cleared throat brought Nate’s head around. A dark-haired male in scrubs and a white lab coat stood in the doorway.

“Seems our Vladlena is a rare crossbreed. I’m pissed that I didn’t think of that sooner.”

“Why would you have?” she asked. “My father said I was his.”

“He also said you were born in human form. I didn’t put that together with your inability to shift.”

“Crossbreed?” Nate asked.

She nodded. “Apparently, my dam mated with a wolf the same day she mated with the hyena I thought was my father. Who is my father.” There was a heartbeat of silence before she added, “He might have been an evil sonofabitch, but he was good to me.”

“You’ll have to tell me about him someday,” Nate said, and she gave him that smile that knocked him off his axis again. “So how could two different species produce offspring? And how come your other brothers are hyenas?”

Eidolon spoke up. “Littermates can have multiple fathers. As far as interspecies shifter breeding . . . in most cases, it can’t happen. But hyenas are the one shifter species that can sometimes breed with both felines and canines, though the cubs are usually stillborn. Those who survive birth rarely live beyond infancy. I’ve never heard of any making it to adulthood.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll bet the fact that your father was a doctor saved your life. He said you and Vaughn were sick a lot as babies. Even if he didn’t know why you were sick, he was able to treat you.”

Lena’s fingers stroked the back of Nate’s hand absently. “What made me finally be able to shift?”

“Adrenaline,” Eidolon said. “Probably combined with strong emotion. Whatever it was, you powered through the block you had.” A commotion started up outside the room. “That’s my cue. Nate, you should feed as soon as possible, and take it easy for a couple of days. Other than that, you two can both take off. Lena, call me later.”

The second the doctor was gone, Nate jackknifed up, hauled Lena into his arms, and yanked her down on top of him. The pinch of pain in his chest was worth having her body against his. “I’m sorry, Vladlena.” He stared into her eyes, praying she could see the intense regret in his. “I’m so sorry I got you into that mess.”

She shook her head, making her braid tap against his neck. “I’m not. I mean, I could have done without nearly being killed, but because of it, I was able to shift. Really, being in that arena saved my life.”

“I killed your brother.”

Her hand came up to cup his cheek. “He’d have killed me if you hadn’t.”

Thank gods she was cool with what he’d done, because he wouldn’t take it back even if he could. That bastard had deserved to die. A sudden flare of panic shot through him as the events in the arena came back to him.

“What happened to Fade? And the club. Shit . . . Marsden—”

“Marsden’s fine,” she assured him. “In fact, he was here a little while ago to check on you. Gladius has been shut down, and Fade’s dead.”

If only that were true, and the reality was like water on flame. The demon would hunt Nate and Lena to the ends of the earth. “He can be resurrected.”

A wicked smile touched her lips, stirring the embers of the fire that had just been doused. “Sin recognized his demon species. His remains are being stored in the morgue until we can identify and kill his vivacant.”

Damn, Lena and her colleagues were awesome. “I can help with that.” He kissed her, a fleeting brush of his mouth over hers. “Oh, hey, I want to find that vampire I saw earlier.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she said wryly. “This place is crawling with the fangy sort.”

“Tall. Blond. Wearing armor. He’s the guy who turned me.” He kissed her again, this time just long enough to get a taste of her peach lip gloss. “I want to thank him. Never thought I’d say that.”

She frowned. “The only male who fits that description I’ve seen isn’t a vampire. He’s one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

Nate snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously.” Her head bobbed and her dewy skin took on an excited flush that might have unearthed some jealousy if Nate wasn’t so . . . reeling. “His name’s Thanatos. He was here a little while ago.”

Yeah, that was enough to make him dizzy. “Those guys are real?”

“Very.”

Nate blew out a stunned breath. “Maybe I didn’t see my sire, then. Must have been hallucinating.”

Closing his eyes, he buried his face in Lena’s neck, taking in the soft floral notes of her shampoo and soap. She smelled clean, like a shower, and all of a sudden, all he could think about was getting her under a spray of hot water, naked, with his hands lathering every inch of her skin.

“So do you want to comb the hospital for your sire?” she asked, her voice a husky murmur. “Or would you rather go home? Because I know which I’d rather do.”

So did he. For two hundred years he’d searched for his sire, and now, he realized, it didn’t matter. The past was no longer important. Only the future mattered, and he was going to make sure that future included Lena.

Vladlena was going to have sex. And it was about freaking time.

Before leaving the hospital, Nate had showered and dressed in scrubs for the trip home. Then they’d taken a Harrogate bus to his place—a charming manor in the French countryside. At first she’d been surprised by his home, expecting him to be more of a city-dweller with a modern apartment. But within minutes, the cozy but utilitarian furnishings and masculine decor made as much sense as a mane on a lion. It was as if stepping over the threshold transformed him from an intense, alert vampire into a male at ease inside his own territory.

She also noticed that even as he relaxed, building a fire and pouring glasses of wine, he never stopped watching her, his gaze growing hotter by the second, until they both combusted and ended up naked on the rug before the hearth.

Lena didn’t even remember how their clothes came off. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they were tangled together in such a tight knot that they might never unravel. Nate’s muscular thigh was between her legs, pressing against her core with the most amazing pressure that both soothed the throbbing ache and made her squirm for more.

Vladlena might have been sheltered, might have been a little naive. But she’d had orgasms, by both herself and at Nate’s skilled hand. And now that she knew how much better it was to climax with a male who oozed sex with every fiber of his being? Her prey drive had been engaged.

And Nate was the prey.

“Now,” she moaned, sliding his hand from her breast to her belly and pushing it lower.

He smiled against the skin of her other breast, taking a break from the maddening flick of his tongue on her nipple. “How I ever thought you were innocent is beyond me.”

She arched, rolling her hips in blatant invitation. “Let’s get rid of all doubt.”

Chuckling, he put his lips over her sternum in an openmouthed kiss that included a lot of silky tongue. It was awesome, but not what she wanted, and she fisted his penis to show him what it was she did want. His hiss of pleasure accompanied a hot sting of fang tips scraping on her skin, and gods, she nearly came. A climax had built like steam without warning, and she had to resist the temptation to ride his leg to completion like a horny . . . well . . . wolf.

That had been shocking news, but it had made sense, had quieted the nagging voice that had always told her she was different. Now she knew why, and she didn’t care how it had happened or who her biological father was. She’d always lived in the present, and presently, a hard-bodied, sexy vampire was kissing his way down her belly.

Her breath caught as he went lower, pressing a lingering kiss in the crease between her leg and her sex. Okay, she thought she’d been ready for this, but suddenly, her heart was battering her ribs, her lungs had turned to cement, and—

He licked her. The flat of his tongue went right up her center, and she melted into a liquid puddle of need. She squirmed, unsure how to handle this, but his hands shot out to still her, one arm lying heavily across her pelvis and the other spreading her for the onslaught of his mouth on her swollen flesh.

Obviously, Lena hadn’t experienced oral sex, so she had no frame of reference when it came to skill. But when Nate plunged a finger inside her core and latched his lips onto her pleasure center, she’d have to go with really, fantastically, majorly skilled. She thrashed and writhed in his grip, and the orgasm that had been boiling erupted. He worked her through it with long, sweeping passes of his tongue and pressure-intense sucks on her clit. She was pretty sure she shouted his name, and then he was on top of her, his glorious fall of hair tickling her skin, the tip of his penis poised at her entrance.

His gaze caught and held hers, brimming with concern and molten heat.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered.

“I’m not.” She framed his face with both hands and looked deeply into his eyes. “I want this more than anything.”

Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers. Her entire body quivered with anticipation as his mouth touched her lips. Even though she’d just had a world-class climax, she raised her hips, seeking his possession.

“Shh,” he murmured. “Almost.” Outwardly, he was calm, in control, but the slight tremor in his voice gave him away. He was as affected by this as she was.

She opened up to him . . . her mouth, her legs, her entire being. Tenderly, carefully, his tongue breached her lips, stroking, penetrating and retreating. She became lost in the rhythm, so lost that she barely noticed the head of his penis pushing past her entrance.

“So . . . tight . . .” His voice was gravelly, strained, and she knew he was struggling for control. “Am I hurting you?”

“Not even close.” Grabbing onto his powerful shoulders, she dug her nails in, loving the way it made him hiss with approval and push deeper inside her.

“The shift . . .” He buried his face in her neck and shuddered, his big body heaving, as though the effort to remain motionless was killing him.

“It broke my hymen.” His penis twitched inside her, hitting something sensitive that made her pant. “Please, Nate. Now.”

His hips punched forward, seating him all the way inside her. She gasped at the sensation of being so full and stretched, but it definitely wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. Just the opposite, and as he began to move, slowly at first, and then with more urgency, erotic energy lapped at her, the waves growing larger, building with every thrust.

She arched into him, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist to ride his rhythm. He lifted his head to watch her through slitted lids, the blue of his eyes glowing behind them. In the dancing light from the fire, his hard-cut muscles bunched and flexed, the taut layers rolling beneath perfect skin.

This was so beautiful, more so than she’d ever imagined. Even his weight was wonderful, a counter to her femininity that made her feel so protected.

The speed of his thrusts increased, and his body trembled. Ah . . . yes. Right . . . there. Throwing her head back, she gasped at the sudden, hot ecstasy that coiled in her core. He made a desperate sound deep in his chest, sending a surge of passion roaring through her. She ground against him with an untamed urgency he seemed to call forth from her with sinful ease.

Her orgasm hovered close, searingly hot, and when he lowered his mouth to her throat, the tips of his fangs resting on her skin, she practically begged him to bite her. Eidolon had ordered him to feed, after all.

“Thank you,” he rasped, but instead of a bite, he swirled his tongue over her vein. “Oh, gods, Lena . . . we were . . . made for each other.”

She believed it with all her heart. They fit together perfectly, and she wanted to do a lot more fitting together. Often.

Finally, he sank his teeth into her flesh. Heat swamped her, a fever of pleasure that blistered her skin and set fire to her insides. The climax swept her up and away, so she could feel only Nate. His release was as powerful as hers, if the way he pounded into her with hard, uncontrolled bursts was any indication. It went on long enough for her to come again, her hips coming off the rug and his name coming off her lips.

Abruptly, he sagged on top of her, though he shifted his weight to prevent her from taking it all. She would have, gladly. But this was good, too. He was still inside her, and she got to stroke his muscular back and thank him without saying a word.

After a moment, he rolled onto his side and adjusted her so they were facing each other, bathed in the warm glow of the fire. He touched her face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone in lazy, soothing strokes. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not even close.”

Possessive eyes focused on her. “Work for me.”

Whoa. Okay. Not words she’d expected to hear. “What? You mean like, at Thirst?”

“It’s mine now. That was the deal with Fade. Thirst, Gladius, it’s all mine.”

An anvil dropped onto her chest. “Gladius.”

He smiled. “Dismantling it will be the first thing I do. But I’ve put a lot of work into the club. It’s a decent place, and I want you there. I want you in charge of the medic station.”

She couldn’t deny that the offer was tempting. To have autonomy . . . something for herself . . . it was what she’d always wanted. But she owed Underworld General so much, and with the way the underworld was spinning out of control, they couldn’t afford to lose her.

“I have a job already,” she sighed.

“You don’t have to choose. Work at UG, but oversee the medic station and personnel at Thirst. You can hire your colleagues at the hospital to fill in or moonlight. You can use Thirst for training. I don’t care. It would be yours to do what you want with it.”

Closing her eyes, she thanked whoever was listening that she’d found this male. The canine instincts she hadn’t even known she possessed had somehow sensed that behind his hard outer shell there’d been a caring, loving vampire in there even when he was being a jerk. And now she understood the reason he’d been such a bastard at times.

But that didn’t mean she was going to let him walk all over her.

“Well?” He swept his lips tenderly over hers. “What do you say?”

She opened her eyes. “I’ll do it, but on one condition.”

He cocked a black eyebrow. “And that would be?”

“I don’t work for you. I work with you. The medic stuff will be entirely mine.”

“Woman,” he said, pressing a series of kisses along her jaw, “you can have anything you want. I owe you.”

“For what?” She tilted her head to give him better access, because that felt so . . . damned . . . good.

“For saving my life.” His voice lowered to a husky, mesmerizing purr, and against her hip, she felt his shaft stir. “For giving me life. I was dead before. You brought me back, Nurse Lena.”

She shifted so she could nuzzle his ear. “You did the same for me. So where do we go from here?”

“If you’ll have me, all the way.”

“To the end?”

He pushed up on his elbows and rolled to mount her. As she accepted him into her body, he locked gazes with her, his eyes glittering with passion and promise. “To the end.”

Content

Ione Larissa Vampire Fight Club

LARISSA IONE Vampire Fight Club

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12