Covet the Night, page 17
Gwen spun back around in her seat and resolutely pinned her gaze on Hugo and his lover. Her throat was tight, but somehow, she managed to answer. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard all night." The laughter that followed her reply made Gwen stiffen again.
Becca scoffed and faced forward in solidarity as well, but her pursed lips couldn't keep her temper in check. "Any interest in the hybrid"—Gwen found Becca's implicit emphasis worrisome—"is motivated solely by the cause he stands for."
"Is that right?" Ruby asked slyly.
Gwen's heart hammered in her ears.
"Gwen?" Becca's hand rested on her arm.
Gwen cleared her throat. "Yes. She's completely right. Obviously." Except she hadn't a clue what Becca meant. What cause? Did it even matter?
The sharp sting of heartache bit through the pill's barrier. I shouldn't even feel heartache, she thought morosely. After all, they only proved her assumptions about William right. He was trying to leverage her affections to sway the Roux to whatever his cause was.
She watched Hugo and his lover numbly as Count Delacroix made his way back to the pit to begin the formal introductions, riling up the crowd like a ringmaster.
Hugo's lover was saying something to him. Her brow was heavily furrowed. The slender man shook his head at whatever she was saying and swiped something silver from her hand. It was to his lips and back in the woman's possession before Gwen could blink. The woman's head was bowed as she stared at the object in her hand. It was a flask. Had Hugo, like the wolverine, taken a substance to enhance his performance?
William's shaking head caught Gwen's eye. Mild disgust was painted across his face as he glared at his opponent. A second later, he stiffened, and suddenly she was confronted with his copper eyes.
Gwen's breath left her in a quiet rush as she held his heated gaze. She raised her chin defiantly, prepared to cast her regard elsewhere in a clear snub, but William moved first. He stepped out of the shadow and dipped his head at her in clear acknowledgment.
"And here I thought you said there wasn't anything going on between the two of you." Ruby's voice rustled the hair next to Gwen's ear.
She flinched forward and glared over her shoulder at the petite vampyré.
"There isn't!"
"Mm-hmm."
"I—" A warm hand settled over her own and squeezed. Gwen's shoulders sagged as she twisted back to the pit. "I hope he loses," she whispered viciously, folding her arms over her stomach.
"No, you don't."
Gwen bit her tongue at the snarky quality of Nova's voice but did not retort.
The fight didn't begin as the first. There were no battle cries or spirited charges. They would fight by the fang, as the bear and wolverine had, which meant no weapons other than the bodies they possessed—fangs and all. Tension rose in the arena as silence dominated the room. The two continued to circle each other, making subtle gestures to gauge the other's reaction. It took until their third pass for her to notice the micromovements. When she did, her lips parted in suspense.
As William completed another lap, his sights darted up to hers. Gwen gasped. Hugo struck.
The crowd screamed in delight, rising to their feet, ready for bloodshed. Gwen and Becca joined them. The men moved in violent blurs, too fast for their human eyes to make out what was happening.
"Damn, damn, damn," Gwen cursed. Every now and then, blood splattered against the dingy pit walls or across its tiled white rim. Her stomach clenched, not knowing who the blood belonged to.
She didn't want William to lose. She took it back, and nobody needed to know. Her arms wound themselves around her middle, fingers digging into the silk slip dress she wore.
"He's doing rather well, isn't he?" Gwen overheard Ruby say to Nova.
Unable to resist, Gwen craned her head back enough to keep one eye on the pit and asked, "Who?"
Ruby hesitated before answering.
"Hugo. He's like a man possessed," she said, eyes drifting back to the fight. "I would be too if I were in his shoes. It's not every day you get the opportunity to rise above your status. If Hugo wins, there's no doubt a Minor Household will invite him formally into their numbers for a chance to add his ring to their collection."
"Not the Major Households?" Becca asked. "I can barely keep up with this. Will it really be easier to watch fights when we become vampyrés?" Her voice was full of agitation.
"Yes," both Nova and Ruby responded.
A body launched to one end of the pit, smashing into the wall with a ground-shaking thud. William. On the other side of the pit stood Hugo, his entire body heaving. Gwen's expression contorted at the savage bruises on his chest and blood dripping down his chin. Even from a distance, she could make out the throbbing veins in his neck and the ones on his arms as his biceps flexed, coursing with adrenaline.
The two collided in a dizzying blur of motion.
The cheering of the crowd became uncomfortably loud. Gwen hated it. Her senses were too easily overwhelmed because of Ruby's mint.
One moment she was twisting her hands anxiously together, the next clapping furiously as Hugo hit the wall. William didn't wait for the other man to get his feet back under him before he attacked. Gwen cheered louder, uncaring that Indigo shot her a very disapproving stare.
Hugo took blow after blow, William refusing to give an inch of ground once earned. He was more machine than beast, brutal and efficient in his fighting style.
A nasty right hook caught William's cheek. Blood sprayed from his mouth, and the crowd went still as the great man stumbled sideways. Hugo wasted no time and rushed him, but the hybrid's falter was a ruse.
William sidestepped Hugo faster than Gwen could process. One instant, Hugo appeared to be upon him, and in the next, he was ramming into the curved wall. Her head spun at their speed. Hugo pounded his fists against the wall and let out an enraged bellow before spinning and charging again at his missed target. William met him with his fist.
Gwen's voice rallied with the crowd's. Her high turned to one of elation as she recklessly cheered for the hybrid. At her side, Becca did the same. The two shared smiles, swept up in the crowd's excitement.
Every onlooker was equally invested in the fight lasting as long as possible. They feasted on the unleashed combat, screaming louder every time blood sprayed. Gwen's sights traveled around the room and then to the main floor, where only a few were permitted. Count Delacroix, Hugo's lover—her name still absent from Gwen's mind—and a couple others cheered aggressively at the pit's edge.
And, of course, the banshee.
She'd been told about the woman by her sisters, with her shock of white hair and the haunted look about her. They'd told her to stay away from her and insisted she was bad luck. Besides that, if Gwen ever had the misfortune of hearing her scream, it meant certain death.
They'd also said she had a drinking problem, which both Hazel and Lily thought a pity, for her unique set of skills was paid for handsomely by the Royal Households to keep everyone on their toes. They thought her hefty coffer should be used for more indulgent purposes, like elixirs or amulets, fine clothes, and jewelry, but she only spent her money on drinks.
The banshee gave a sudden jerk, stepping back a few paces as she clutched her chest in pain.
Gwen quickly scanned the audience to see if anyone else had noticed and would provide assistance. She looked to be in incredible pain, so visceral it touched Gwen with its icy caress. But no one went to her. The banshee’s mouth was wide open, and her eyes shut tight. Gwen heard nothing, though she doubted she'd be able to against the bellowing crowd.
Gwen's eyes widened in delayed realization. This was the banshee's dreaded scream. A few moments later, looking even more tired and tormented than before, she stopped. Her hands covered her face as she slinked back into the shadows, out of sight and mind as the fight raged on.
Gwen wasn't sure what to make of the episode other than it left her breathless.
Before she could dwell further, the fighters surfaced from their rapid fighting pace.
Blood and bite marks marred them. Their faces were both clenched with intense determination. William had Hugo in a headlock, and with the concentrated effort, he brought the vampyré to his knees. By the looks of it, William wouldn't relent until he'd snapped it off. Gwen swallowed. She hoped that wasn't the case.
A hand reached out to hold hers, warm and tight.
Gwen squeezed Becca's hand as cruel anticipation tightened her stomach. He’s going to kill him, she thought. It wouldn’t be her first time witnessing such an act of violence since being at the Dark Court, or with Laurel for that matter, but this felt different. It felt like an initiation all on its own, this one dealt by the Dark Court's hand. Yet death did not come for the young vampyré. Hugo's trembling hand rose and tapped William's forearm twice.
William released him and immediately turned to the crowd, flexing with a victorious roar. A shiver raced over Gwen's body at the sound. The audience howled and shouted along with him.
William's silver-stained eyes eventually found Gwen's, despite the moving and cheering bodies between them. The blazing smolder he speared her with struck her immobile.
"Ouch." Becca pulled her hand out of Gwen's and shook it playfully. "Easy there, tiger," she teased as Gwen looked at her abashed. "Maybe you should get in the ring."
"Sorry."
Becca shrugged off Gwen's apology and resumed her cheering with the crowd.
William was being greeted by Count Delacroix in the pit. The ring was produced with a flourish. Whatever ceremonial speech was given by the count was short and overrun by the emboldened crowd's enthusiasm. When William placed the ring on his finger and lifted a fist triumphantly in the air, Gwen thought the entire grandstand might come toppling down.
"Come on, girls," Indigo shouted as she began to move down the aisle toward the nearest set of stairs.
They lost Indigo to the descending crush of bodies. The crowd was exiting in droves, waiting to congratulate William and holding up different paths to leave. By the time Gwen reached the stone floor, she'd lost Becca too. Undaunted, Gwen went with the flow of the crowd. She slipped between bodies as they huddled together and recapped the night's events in delight. She was glad the pleasant fog taking up space in her head was gone, and no new pain had arisen, especially among the throng of predators.
The shuffle of the crowd slowed. Gwen moved to its outer edges as unwanted hands began to wander over her body and soon found herself walking along the edge of the fighting pit. She peeked inside and instantly regretted it.
Long streaks and small puddles of blood highlighted the fatal dugout. Gwen cast her eyes away and was met with an even more gut-wrenching sight: Hugo and his lover arguing. Tears ran down the woman's face as she tried to comfort and steer Hugo away from the dugout. But he wasn't budging. He was shaking. Tremors racked his body, and his fists were held tight at his side. Among his wounds, Gwen could still make out the fiendish raise of his veins against his tremulous muscles.
Gwen looked away and inadvertently spotted Jakob and Irina Vrana approaching William from behind on the other side of the pit. It had been some time since she'd seen Irina, their last “almost encounter” that fateful first night. Arm in arm with Jakob, they seemed to define the term “power couple.” A man walked briskly ahead of them hands thrust in his pockets with an easy grin on his face.
"So, the old man's still got it."
Though William's back still faced the approaching man and couple, he let out a hearty laugh as he shook hands with a gentleman in a navy suit with an extraordinary beard. The vampyré smiled proudly at William before slapping his arm and departing so others might congratulate him.
"Never lost it, pup," William said loudly.
The man who approached chuckled. His skin was a refreshing color in the pale-skinned court. It was a mild bronze, as if he'd stepped out in the sun for a while and immediately gotten tanned. Gwen had never known such luck, but the Indian hybrid was blessed with more than just lovely skin. His copper eyes and easygoing grin gave him an approachable air, which made him stick out like a sore thumb in the Dark Court. Yet Gwen felt drawn to him, attracted too.
As William turned to greet the other hybrid, several actions happened at once.
First and foremost, he saw her. Half his face was shaded an ugly purple, and the white of his left eye was tinted pink from some popped capillary. But his smile was unhindered as he gazed at her.
Gwen ordered her feet to keep moving, but they stayed firmly rooted to the ground, which was how she came to witness, in shocking clarity, the second act: the friendly hybrid lunging at William.
A startled cry exploded from her mouth as the final act came into focus: Hugo streaking toward William as well, his arm raised and poised with some kind of weapon. A stake. Gwen's heart sank to her stomach in one fell swoop. And his eyes—they were black. The veins on his body were too starkly pronounced.
Her horrified gaze and reaction left William distracted. Gwen didn't think the other hybrid would stop it in time. Because he wasn't going after William—he was trying to protect him.
But Gwen was wrong.
The hybrid did stop Hugo—with a hand straight through his chest.
A scream shot through the room out of nowhere. Every set of eyes in the room jumped to the source. Hugo's lover. Jasmine. Gwen's eyes crushed shut as she remembered the name and ducked her head for good measure so as not to glimpse the look of pure devastation on her face. Gasps and voices lit up the room in a new frenzy.
Gwen reluctantly peeked against her better judgment and saw the hybrid standing over Hugo's dead body, now with a gaping cavity in his chest. Hugo's head was rolled to the side, and his eyes—a deep dark brown, not black—stared back at her. Her heart thundered against her ribs.
William placed his hand on the other hybrid's shoulder and turned him around.
"Thank you, Deval," he said roughly. "You're the brother I never had. I won't forget this." William held out his other hand to Deval.
The room went silent, watching the exchange with overt interest as if it was the true finale of the night's show. Everyone seemed to be ignoring the hysterical crying from Jasmine. Including Gwen.
Deval shook off his shock and accepted William's hand with his bloodied one.
The whispers grew louder—much louder—and Jasmine fled. Gwen was certain she was the only witness to the woman’s despair, given the remaining crowd’s avid interest in William’s almost assassination.
She wasn't.
X
G
wen desperately wanted—no, needed—to leave, but her feet stubbornly refused to take her. She was too overwhelmed to do anything, let alone leave. After a few minutes of gawking, Jasmine returned with two men who helped carry off Hugo's body. The petite vampyré followed, throwing murderous glares over her shoulder at Deval until she was out of sight once more.
Gwen nearly whimpered as a cold hand landed on her lower back and urged her forward.
"What's the matter? The mint hasn't taken you on a bad trip, has it?"
Gwen swung owlish eyes to Ruby. Her eyebrows came crashing together as Ruby's words registered.
"I could have gone on a ‘bad trip’? What do you mean?"
"Trust me; you would know if you had. The important thing is you didn't."
Gwen didn't trust the sunny smile Ruby beamed at her, but the no-nonsense glower Nova shot her kept her doubts under lock and key.
"So, you two are…?"
Ruby's eyes sparkled. "Madly and deeply in love?" She batted her lashes coyly and steered Gwen through the thicket of people hounding on about the newest bit of gossip. "Obviously. It took me years to wear her down, but I'm awfully persistent. Isn't that right, dear?"
"Don't call me dear."
The couple navigated the crowd with ease as Nova slipped ahead to carve a path. People gravitated out of her way, shifter and vampyré alike, but no sorcerers or demons. Gwen gave a cursory glance over the crowd. She couldn't spot any.
Ruby's hand applied gentle pressure, herding Gwen along the curve of the pit. They were aiming back around it instead of toward the exit with the rest of the crowd.
"Where are we…? Oh, no. I really need to be going. I can't stay."
"Don't you want to congratulate the victor?"
"No." Gwen's head shook along with her voice, but there was no escaping the pair.
Nova approached William first. He was engaged in conversation with Jakob and Irina but turned partially to Nova in acknowledgment. Some greeting lay on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped and straightened at the sight of Gwen. The smile he wore grew larger.
"You did well, man. But did you have to let him give you that shiner? Ouch." Nova grimaced good-naturedly. "I guess that means we won't be sparring next week. I know your old bones need time to rest after a good beating."
He wouldn't stop staring at her. Gwen's face flushed, and her heart fluttered wildly like a butterfly trapped in a glass jar. She was somehow out of breath as well.
"Aye." William's rumbled response was nondescript. Gwen's fevered skin shot down her chest as she grew keen to the way he fidgeted with his newly won daylight ring around his finger and stared at her.
He'd not been able to speak with her the past couple of nights, his training schedule and the Roux's sudden omnipresent fixture around the initiates stifling his attempts to steal some time with her. He'd asked the Vranas to keep an eye on her. Their help was vital if he wanted a chance to secure Gwen's consent and obtain any alone time with her. Without completing the first two stages of the soulmark—the sealing and marking—he couldn't track her, not even with his superior hybrid senses.
William drank in the sight of her, ignoring Irina's saucy grin and the twitch to Jakob's cheek as he concealed his pleasure behind an unbelievable cough. He wished they wouldn't be so bloody obvious. They'd been ecstatic when he'd shared the news and equally determined to help him in his cause, even though he doubted there was much they could do.
