No Rest for the Wicked (18 page)

“The words candy and baby spring to mind... but you’ve got a deal.” She tossed him his

sword, then collected her own, letting her loose wrist circle it silently through the air.

“When I win, you will leave immediately.”

He freed his as well. “I doubt—”

She charged, striking with a blinding speed. He barely got his sword up in time. She

parried again, and metal clanged as he did his damnedest to block her without hurting her.

Her sword wasn’t optimal for hand-to-hand battle. It had no knuckle bow to guard her

fingers. If he slipped, she’d lose her fingers.

He had a good block and counter to her parry, but if she turned the wrong way... Can’t

risk it—

Her sword pressed into his chest. “Point,” she said, her voice laced with smugness.

His lips nearly curled. They resumed. She was astoundingly good. Her eyes revealed

nothing. She telegraphed no move, gave him no hint of weakness. He’d never imagined a

female could keep him on his toes.

And he found himself enjoying the hell out of it, found himself enjoying pride in her skill.

“You must have trained for years.”

“You have no idea,” she drawled.

Suddenly, she was no longer in front of him. But her sword was. In the blink of an eye, her

sword was snatched behind him and planted into the skin over the base of his spine.

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) Sweet Christ... she moved faster than gravity.

From behind him, she whispered, “That’s called speed, vampire. Beginning to see the

appeal?”

Blood dripped. He gritted his teeth. “A blow to the back, Kaderin?” He was disappointed

in her. He’d thought they had found some common ground. Even before he’d been

knighted, living by the sword had always meant more to him than merely fighting with a

sword. “Not very honorable of you.”

When she faced him once more, he realized he could no longer treat this with anything but

deadly earnest. He had to earn her respect and was learning that she wouldn’t appreciate

the qualities he’d always thought women valued. Courtesy, for instance, had garnered him

nothing at the assembly or at the bottom of the world.

“Honor gets you killed,” she said. They circled each other, her bare feet silent on the tiled

floor. Her silk shorts kept fluttering, giving him tantalizing glimpses. Fighting her was the

last thing he wanted to be doing with her. “I’ve found honor and survival to be mutually

exclusive in the Lore.”

“You are jaded. Too much so for someone so young.”

This seemed to amuse her. “And do you think me young?”

He was centuries old, and before he’d met her, he’d often felt ancient. Her youthful energy

and looks made him doubt she was a day over twenty-five. Or she had been before she

became immortal. “I know you’ve competed in at least one Hie before, so you have to be

older than two hundred and fifty years. But I doubt much more.”

“What if I told you I’m very old indeed?” she asked. “Would it hinder your attraction to

know that stars look different now from how they did when I was a girl?”

Her voice was lulling, and he found himself relaxing his guard and puzzling over her

words—

She parried once more, flying to get to his back. He barely twisted around with his sword

in time.

“I’m no match for your speed, unless I trace,” he began, “which has always seemed

cowardly to me. But since you don’t see a problem with such tactics—” He traced behind

her in an instant and swatted the broad side of his sword against her ass. “Point. And I

believe I just spanked you as well.”

You don’t have to taunt her. Her shoulders stiffened just as weird lightning lit the sky

outside and killed the shadows in the room. That same electricity he’d felt when he’d

kissed her crackled in the air. Thunder rattled the glass doors. Valkyrie give off lightning

with sharp emotion.

“Tracing.” She pivoted slowly. “Thank you for reminding me of what you are.”

It was as if some dam had burst. Her sword cut through the air like its own entity,

reflecting light from bolts outside. She held the hilt so loosely, so confidently, and he

found himself enthralled with her movements—to his detriment.

Yet her skills and technique could be beaten by focused power, and finally he began using

his strength over hers. If he connected cleanly with her sword, then he followed through

with all the power in his body, making her weapon quake and waver in her hands, jarring

her with each brutal strike.

He feinted, catching her off-guard, just long enough to deliver a particularly punishing

blow against her sword. He’d thought to send it flying, ending this, but amazingly, she

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) somehow held on to it. Her body staggered as though she’d taken the hit to herself. She

fell to a knee. Lightning exploded outside.

His chest seemed to clench. “Damn it, you weren’t supposed to be able to hold that.” A

lifetime spent trying to avoid hurting women, and now he’d struck out at her as if she

were a man?

“I don’t plan to lose.” She looked up at him through loosened curls. Her eyes were silver.

“Can’t exactly win without it, now, can I?”

But her faltering was just enough for him to trace to her. He forced himself to drive his

advantage. He tapped his flat sword at her shoulder. “Point.”

Her breaths were ragged. “This isn’t yet finished.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Only hurts for a moment.” Her nonchalance disappeared when she sprang from the

ground, charging once more. Their swords clashed again and again, mimicking the

lightning outside. Her eyes began glowing in the scant intervals of darkness.

Then she pulled back, lowering her sword. Her brows were drawn as if in pain, and she

was panting. The bolts quickened outside. In a pleading tone, she cried, “Ah, gods,

Bastian, do you want me to beg you for it?”

He drew his head back in astonishment. Had he missed signals? Was she going to accept

him? Her uncanny eyes called to him even as thunder exploded ominously.

Already thinking about where he would taste her first, he lunged for her—

Her blade planted just above his heart, and her eyes went dark and cold in an instant.

“Point.” She jabbed the tip and twisted, tearing his flesh with a menacing sneer. “I win,

leech.”

At the sight of his blood slipping down the center of her sword, he imagined all the others

who’d bled on her blade, all the others who’d fallen for her beauty and trickery. How

many had thought they were about to have her just before their lives ended? A sudden

violent mix of thwarted lust and rage like none he’d ever experienced overwhelmed him.

He growled with fury, tossing his sword away as he traced behind her. He yanked her to

him, his arms capturing hers against her body. She gasped, but when he pressed an open-

mouthed kiss to her neck, she didn’t immediately fight him, seeming to await his next

move.

Good. He wanted her to surrender to him—in all ways, not just in this contest. She was

close enough to feel his cock straining against her, and he wanted her to feel it. He wanted

her pinned beneath him in bed, mastered by him. At the idea, he thrust uncontrollably

against her soft ass. She sucked in a breath and seemed to flex her body into his.

Emboldened, he brushed the backs of his fingers over her nipples. She shivered.

The storm whipped up outside, seeming to goad him. His hands caressed up from her flat

belly, sliding under her bra and shirt, lifting them above her breasts. She sucked in a breath

but didn’t stop him. He sensed she was curious about what he would do. So was he.

He gently cupped her full breasts in his palms, groaning with pleasure. Her breathing

quickened when he thumbed the peaks. She had luscious nipples, small and deep pink,

begging to be suckled. He rolled and pinched them again and again, until they were so

hard he imagined they ached. He saw her fingers go limp, and her sword clattered to the

ground.

That was his permission. He kissed her neck, thrusting slowly against her. He wanted to

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) do to her what her touch had done to him—stripped him down until there was no thought,

only the need to have her. He wanted to make her shiver more, to wring moans from her

lips.

When she raised her hands behind her to thread her fingers through his hair, he closed his

eyes in bliss, groaning, kissing, kneading.

She froze just as a sudden jolt of ecstasy shot through him so much sharper than before—

as if fire coursed through every vein in his body.

Her blood had touched his tongue.

“Bastian? Did you... bite me?”

Can’t deny it. He was shuddering, and his eyes were rolling back in his head as he

squeezed her. He’d accidentally grazed her neck in his frenzy, taking the merest drop.

She shoved his hands away from her, yanking her clothes in place and struggling to be

freed. He finally managed, “I didn’t intend to. I didn’t plan to—”

When he released her, she turned, casting him the expression he’d hoped never to see

again. Seeing that betrayed look in her silver eyes was worse than he could ever have

imagined.

Her hurt was swiftly overcome by fury. “You had no right!” The doors at the balcony flew

open as the spray of ocean and rain punched inside. With the wind tugging at her long

hair, she screamed, “You’ve stolen more than my blood!”

She sank down, snatching her sword, then charged him, slashing. He traced to his sword

to block her. She feinted a forward parry, then twisted to swing backhanded at his torso,

putting all her strength into the blow. He traced back at the last second, or she’d have cut

through him.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, leaving her.

Back at his castle, he sank into the bed, staring at the ceiling. He’d taken her blood, the

smallest drop, and the taste of her had pleasured him so profoundly he knew he was

changed forever.

He’d rather not know exactly what he could never have again.

Kaderin was right—it was more than just blood. But why did she think it so? What more

had he stolen?

It had been an accident, but how many times could he continue to use that as an excuse?

Intent, or lack of it, rarely erased the offense, anyway. This he knew.

He’d taken straight from the flesh. A true vampire. He remembered Murdoch had told

him, “There are dangerous side effects to drinking from a source. You could turn evil.”

“And then I might be in danger of losing my soul?” Sebastian had sneered.

He could no longer be a Forbearer, should he have chosen that road for himself...

Hours passed as he analyzed this eve. He recalled every word, every look, struggling to

make sense of what had happened.

When he finally fell into a deadened sleep, Sebastian dreamed of a foreign land, inundated

with rain.

The sun shone through the deluge, that bright intense light found in the northern lands.

Kaderin was there, blinking against the rain. He saw it all as though through her eyes, and

he knew it was very long ago.

She and others of her kind were trying to sleep on the bare ground on a hill. Only on an

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) incline would the mud and water run down and not soak them any more than need be.

They wore armor, breastplates of gold that were dented.

Kaderin’s beaten armor cut into her ribs if she slept on her back and the undersides of her

breasts if she slept on her sides. Ants crawled underneath the metal, stinging relentlessly,

and sand trapped inside abraded her skin like sandpaper. She tried to ignore the

discomfort—her cadre had not slept in seven days, and they needed the sun as their

sentinel against the vampires they battled each night.

When she switched positions from her back to her side, the mud sucked down, making it

difficult to move. “I vow to the gods,” Kaderin said in a foreign tongue, tugging on her

armor, “if we live through this, I will never sleep so confined again.”

He should not understand her language, what sounded like a mix of old Norse and old

English, but he did.

“Save your vows, Kader-ie,” said a grinning young woman beside her who resembled

Kaderin. “We all know we’re not living through this one.” Several around her chuckled.

Kaderin laughed, too—because it was likely true.

And what else could one do with the knowledge of imminent death?

The dream changed to the actual battle they’d awaited. Sebastian had been in numerous

battles, but he had never seen anything as grisly as this. In a night bright with lightning,

metal rang against metal. Shrieks and thunder were deafening. All around Kaderin,

vampires slashed at and beheaded Valkyrie who looked no older than girls.

Kaderin fought three at one time and couldn’t break free, even when just beside her, a

vampire lifted a Valkyrie’s small body and brought it crashing down over his knee to break

her back. Kaderin was close enough to hear the bones cracking but couldn’t get to her.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the vampire’s head drop to the girl’s neck, then twist