Blood Games

Chapter Nineteen HUNGER GAMES

I woke at dusk the next night with a hunger so fierce I wasn’t capable of naming it. I sat up, found Ethan’s side of the bed empty, but heard the shower running in the bathroom. I pushed back the covers, slid my feet onto the floor, clenched my hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

I rose to my feet, the dull ache at the back of my head a mere whisper compared to the lust for blood that colored my vision. I pushed open the bathroom door, took in Ethan’s long and lean form in the shower, slicked with soap and water.

He must have sensed me, or the magic I was throwing off. His head snapped back, eyes widening. He turned off the spray, opened the door, stepped outside, body gleaming.

My breath hitched at the sight of him, at the sudden silvering of his eyes . . . and his sudden and obvious arousal.

“Merit,” he said, the word a low and lusty growl. We were predators in a haze of bloodlust, facing each other like warriors prepared for another battle.

“Ethan,” I managed, gripping the doorjamb to stay upright. “Blood.”

He stalked forward, steam rising from his body, and took my face in his hands. His mouth crushed down onto mine, tongue and fangs and lips entwining. We sparred with our kiss, antagonizing and provoking. He was moved by lust, maybe love. I was moved by lust for body and blood. For all that he could offer, and all that I would take.

I pulled back, nipped his lip, caught the bright and sudden smell of blood.

A single drop of vermillion rose on his lip. I lunged forward, the taste of him filling my mouth as his guttural groan filled the air.

“Take me,” he said, arching his neck to offer me access to all of him, to his life’s blood, and the thing I wanted from him alone.

I kissed the smooth and golden skin . . . and then I bit. He cried out, the sound carried on a wave of magic that shook the room as it traveled.

I wrapped my arms around him, sunk my fingers into his hair. His hand moved between us, found his arousal, pulled rhythmically as I drank.

That lasted only a moment. He put an arm around me, pulled my body against the rigid length of his, ground his hips against mine as he breathed through bared teeth against the pleasure of the bite.

I ignored the wrench of lace and fabric as he ripped the nightgown down the middle, exposing my body.

Merit. As he spoke to me with his mind and his body, his hands found my breasts, fingers firm and insistent as I drank the life he offered. But it wasn’t just hunger that wracked me. I felt his blood move through me, giving me strength and life, and carrying with it his love, his magic, his strength.

He found my core and pushed forward. He filled my body doubly now, the sensation so intense, so utterly fulfilling, that my body immediately convulsed with pleasure, a warm wash of it that spread through my body like liquid fire.

I gripped his hair tighter, pulling, and dug the nails of my other hand into his back. Ethan. Jesus, Ethan.

He groaned deliciously, cursed in Swedish, picked me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulled his body closer to mine as we moved.

In the bedroom he went to his knees, braced hands and arms on the floor behind him, pushed his body upward into mine as I drank, took what he offered.

His movements quickened, and I drew away, licking the final drops away from the small dots where I’d drunk from him. I met his eyes, which swirled with silver, and pulled the long length of my hair away from my neck.

His eyes widened at the offer, one hand rising from the floor to trace a line down the center of my body, pausing at my breast. He cupped it, thumbing the nipple to delicious pain that made need rise, hot and covetous, all over again.

I traced a fingertip down the arch of my neck, across my collarbone. Ethan’s eyes shined with pleasure. He bared his fangs, put a hand behind my head and pulled me forward, then sunk teeth into the soft skin at my neck.

His other hand found my hip, pulling our bodies together as he drank and moved ferociously beneath me, a sheen of sweat slicking between our bodies.

Pleasure swamped me, a river that threatened to sink me completely. I gripped his shoulders as my body shook with it, as it sent him over, too.

Fuck, he silently said, ripping his mouth away from my neck, his lips still stained crimson, eyes unseeing and head thrown back as shudders wracked him. God, but he was a sight—a warrior in the throes of passion, body rigid and sheened with sweat.

Mine, I thought.

We ended up in a pile on the floor, chests heaving.

“Dear God, Sentinel. You may be the death of both of us.”

“That was . . . definitely something.”

“‘Supernatural’ is the only word I can think to describe it.”

I opened my eyes, pointed at the tattered fabric that lay across the bathroom floor. “That’s why vampires can’t have nice things.”

Ethan laughed hoarsely. “I’m not certain I’ll allow you to dress ever again. I may just keep you here and naked.”

“You did enjoy my wild side.”

“I enjoy all sides of you,” Ethan said, reaching out and grabbing my hand, linking our hands together. “But your wild side is particularly enjoyable.”

I am a vampire sex warrior, I thought, with much satisfaction.

I let Ethan shower and dress, and then I prepared for the evening, thinking leathers were more appropriate than jeans or a suit considering the night’s agenda.

I pulled on leather pants and my jacket, a bright red tank beneath, and my Cadogan medal. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, brushed my bangs until they gleamed, and accented my pale skin with a wash of blush on my cheekbones and red gloss that made my lips look bloodstained. The result was spooky but effective. I picked boots with the highest heels in my closet, tucked my dagger inside, and belted on my katana.

I checked the mirror before I left, straightening my ponytail and the short, motorcycle-style lapels of my jacket. I looked fierce, and a little otherworldly. That was, I thought, the best I’d be able to do today.

Sleep had done wonders for the House. Instead of fear, the House buzzed with energy and excitement. If they’d treated the psych testing like emotional battery, they seemed to anticipate the phys testing like a Super Bowl. And for good reason. They’d seen Ethan fight—in battles at the House, around the city, in sparring sessions with me and others. He was a skilled and capable fighter, wily and well trained.

A phone message from Luc directed me to Ethan’s office, so I made my way downstairs. The office door was cracked, and I found Luc, Lindsey, Malik, and Ethan filling plates from a wheeled cart.

“You’re just in time for breakfast,” Luc said, using tongs to pile bacon on a plate.

I moved inside, smiled at Ethan, who was pouring orange juice into a short glass. “Carb loading?”

“Fueling, anyway,” he said, handing the glass to me. “Good evening, Sentinel.”

I drank, studying him over the rim of the glass. He was in good spirits. Maybe he was also ready for the challenge.

I was hungry, so I loaded a plate with eggs, bacon, wheat toast, and took a seat.

“He’s on his way,” Luc whispered when I sat beside him. It had been a week of mysterious pronouns, but this mystery I could solve. “He” meant Amit, my secret ploy, my Hail Mary to win the game.

“These have been tense nights,” Ethan said, taking a seat at the head of the table. “And tonight is not likely to be any different. But I was recently reminded that vampires would hardly be well served by a process that didn’t help the strongest challengers rise to the top. Whatever happens tonight, I wish us all well.” He raised his glass. “To Cadogan House.”

“To Cadogan House,” we repeated, but my stomach felt leaden as I realized what he was doing. He might have felt good about the physical challenge—his mood said that clearly enough—but he’d gathered us together, offered us thanks, in case he didn’t return home tonight.

He was offering his good-byes.

I put down my cup again, glanced at Malik, wondering if he’d understood, if he’d prepared himself for the possibility he’d soon be in control of the House. I found his gaze on mine, sympathy and acceptance in his eyes. He knew, then, what Ethan was mentally prepared to do, accepted it as an inevitability, that he’d give his life in service of the House.

I’d have to talk to him, steal time away. If he believed there was a chance he wouldn’t come back, I’d be damned if we separated without a proper good-bye.

“Malik will attend the testing with me; Bennett will attend with Sarah. They will be the official witnesses. I’ve not yet been apprised of the location. Luc will have the House while we’re gone.”

“Lakshmi has authorized Bennett and me to report back,” Malik said. “We’ll keep everyone apprised.”

Brody’s lanky form appeared in the doorway, knocked on the jamb. “Liege, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s someone here to see you. They’ve asked to speak with you directly.”

Brody’s expression was completely neutral, which told me he was in on the plan.

Ethan frowned. “Human? Vampire?”

“Vampire,” he said.

Frowning, Ethan rose. “I suppose I’ll be right back. Lucas, would you like to join me?”

“Sure, Liege.” Luc made a move to stand but waited until Ethan was at the door before sitting down and gesturing me toward the door. “This is your present, Merit. You might as well be there when he opens it.”

I nodded and rose, following Ethan to the front of the House.

A man stood in the foyer, around six feet tall, trim. He wore a pair of gray trousers and a white dress shirt. His skin was honeyed, his hair coal black, his eyes a doleful brown. His face was perfectly sculpted, his mouth sensuous, his huge brown eyes tipped by long, dark lashes and framed by dark brows.

He stood casually, hands in his pockets, a position I’d seen Ethan take hundreds of times. But where the carriage of his body was unassuming, even casual, his power was evident. It pulsed from him in soft, thick waves, nearly tangible enough to touch. I had to clench my fingers into fists to keep from reaching out, from touching him. But I resisted, guessing that the act would be akin to moth touching flame.

Instead I stared, taking in every line of his lean form, of the perfect drape of clothing over muscle and honey-dark skin. He was Amit Patel—the most powerful vampire in the world—and he was here because I’d asked him to come.

“Amit,” Ethan said, obviously stunned. “What are you doing here?”

They embraced with claps on the back and obvious delight in each other’s company.

“You’re undertaking a rather monumental feat,” Amit said. His voice was softly accented, the sound melodic. “Being here to support you seemed the least that I could do.”

“I am bewildered and flattered,” Ethan said. “And I appreciate your support.”

Amit grinned, their camaraderie obvious. “I’m not here to support you, old man. I thought you could use a warm-up.”

Ethan snorted. “I hardly need training from the likes of you.”

“You need training every moment of your very distinguished life.” Amit slanted me a glance. “And speaking of need, you must be Merit.”

Ethan glanced back, realized I stood a few feet away and held out his hand, gesturing me forward.

“Merit. Meet Amit Patel.”

Amit smiled slyly. “Merit. It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

Beside me, Ethan snickered. “You’ve done the impossible, Amit—rendered her speechless.”

“It’s lovely to meet you. Sorry, I’m a little”—completely in your thrall, which you probably aren’t even doing on purpose—“sleepy, I guess.”

Amit smiled and took my hand, and my knees nearly buckled from the pleasure of it. I had to lock them to stay standing, and had to force air through my lungs.

“Merit,” Ethan said, and I felt his hand at my waist as he looked at Amit again. “What did you do?”

Amit cocked his head at me. “I think she likes me.”

I coughed out a laugh. “The magic likes you. I don’t know you.”

He smiled beneath impossibly long, half-lowered lashes. “It’s lovely to meet your magic, then.” He looked back at Ethan. “Since you’ve got phys today, I thought perhaps a warm-up might be just the thing.” His dark eyes sparkled merrily. “Speed the heart, warm the blood.”

Ethan’s relief was palpable. “I think that would be just the thing. You’ve been traveling—would you like to clean up first? Perhaps have blood?”

“In that order,” Amit said with a nod.

Helen appeared behind us in the foyer, hands linked officially in front of her. “Liege?” she said, apparently responding to Ethan’s silent call.

“Arrangements for Amit?” Ethan asked.

“Already prepared.” Helen offered Amit a smile so wide I thought her usually brittle expression might break with it. She never smiled at us like that. Actually, she never smiled like that at all.

“Amit,” she said, walking toward him. She put her hands on his arms, and they exchanged affectionate cheek kisses.

Maybe he glamoured her, I thought sourly.

“Helen,” he said. “You look absolutely lovely.”

“I try,” she said, and slipped her arm into his. “Your room is prepared.”

“I appreciate it,” he said, patting her hand. As they walked toward the stairs, Amit looked back at me. “And I look forward to our next encounter.”

When they disappeared into the second-floor hallway, I looked back at Ethan, found his gaze on mine, awe in his eyes. “You brought him here.”

“I suggested it. Luc actually made the call.”

His brows lifted. “You went above my head, invited the most powerful vampire in the world to our House in the middle of a testing cycle.”

“I did.”

His smile dawned slowly. “That was rather . . . inspired.”

Relief flooded me. I knew seeing Amit would make him feel better. But he was right—it was a pretty risky undertaking, even if I’d gotten Luc (and the rest of the staff) on board.

“Thank you. Considering the drama, I thought giving you another ally to commiserate with might be helpful.”

He moved forward, tipped up my chin, looked into my eyes. His own were dark, like clouded malachite.

“Breakfast,” I said. “That was a good-bye. Just in case.”

His mouth tightened, as if he hadn’t wanted to admit the risk to me. “Just in case,” he quietly said, and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his shirt, let his warmth and magic and scent embrace me. God, but it felt good to be there again.

“I’ll take care, Sentinel.”

You’d better, I thought, but I wasn’t giving up on the possibility of monitoring the testing. I didn’t want to cheat per se, and I certainly didn’t want to jinx Ethan’s chances at a win. But I’d be damned if he went into something this dangerous without a backup plan.

“Yes, Helen?”

I glanced back, found her standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands folded as she waited for Ethan’s attention. I hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Amit is settled, asked that you meet him in the training room in half an hour.”

Ethan smiled slyly. “I will. Thank you for coordinating.”

Helen nodded, disappeared efficiently down the hallway toward her office.

“Will you let him beat you since he came all this way?”

His laugh was strangled. “He’s the most powerful vampire in the world for good reason. Although I know a few tricks here and there.”

“I’d avoid the one where you kiss your opponent in order to throw him off balance.”

His eyes shone like emeralds. “I’d never do that, Sentinel. That’s a foolish boy’s trick.”

“Which you, being a mature, centuries-old vampire, certainly wouldn’t employ?”

“Certainly not,” he said, but kissed me again, nearly throwing me off balance.

I suppose even the most mature of men had the occasional ornery impulse.

T minus three hours until the testing, and the House still rang with excitement. Not just because of the challenge—a line of fear trickled through the magic at the risk he was undertaking. But Amit was the most powerful vampire in the world, and he was a friend of our Master’s and here to help him prepare.

Cadogan’s Novitiates weren’t going to miss that show. Hell, most of the vampires in Chicago wouldn’t have missed the show if they’d had the opportunity to watch. I belatedly realized I should have invited Catcher and Jonah. They’d have enjoyed the spectacle just as the vampires in the training room’s balcony, which was nearly full, were prepared to do.

Lindsey and I edged past bent knees in the balcony’s front row, squeezing into small gaps beside Malik and Luc.

“Does anyone else suddenly want popcorn?” she asked as she leaned forward over the balcony rail. Magic filled the air.

Popcorn would have been good. The balcony hummed with energy, like we were all settling in to watch a blockbuster movie on opening night.

The training room door opened, and Amit and Ethan walked inside. Both wore black gis. Both had bare feet. Ethan had pulled back his hair, and his Cadogan medal shone at the base of his neck.

They met in the center of the mat and bowed formally. Then Amit clapped Ethan on the back and they shared a few private words.

When they were done, Amit looked up at those of us in the balcony. “You love and respect your Master, of course. But he is one of the finest warriors I have ever known. And I have known many.” Amit grinned slyly. “But that does not mean he is a better warrior than I am.”

There were good-natured jeers from the audience, which Ethan tamped down with a raised hand. “If he believes he is so, shall we say, Masterful, then we should invite him to show us, don’t you think?”

The vampires erupted with applause, of course. They both knew how to work a crowd. They were handsome and strong vampires in their prime, and I suspected they were equally arrogant. And there on the tatami mats preparing to battle each other, they looked as happy as anyone I’d seen in a long time.

Since they were so happy, I allowed myself to relax, to take a temporary respite from worry and anticipation and simply watch them play.

They began with katas, the building blocks of vampire fighting. They stood beside each other and worked through strikes and blocks, their motions remarkably similar and fluid.

When they glistened with sweat, they shared a few words and separated again. Ten feet away, facing each other across the tatami, they bowed again, then angled their bodies in preparation for a fight.

The crowd went wild again, and Ethan looked up at us and winked jauntily. Someone thought to turn on the radio, and AWOLNATION pumped through the speakers with driving bass and canny lyrics.

“Anytime, old man,” Amit said, and beckoned him forward.

Ethan moved first, with a crescent kick that Amit batted away with a hand. He struck with a jab that would have connected with Ethan’s liver, but he pulled his punch at the last moment. This was a warm-up, after all.

But that he didn’t mean harm didn’t also mean he wasn’t going to challenge Ethan.

Ethan was good; there was no doubt. But Amit was . . . something else altogether. If there was a creature beyond vampire—a being with the strength and grace to make being a vampire look ungainly and awkward—Amit was it. The benefit of being the most powerful of vampires, I supposed. His moves were perfectly efficient, perfectly balanced. His power looked deceptively effortless, and I bet there were plenty in history who’d underestimated him, who’d mistaken grace for weakness.

Actually, Amit’s style had a lot in common with ballet. One of the most amazing feats of skilled ballet dancers, male or female, was their ability to make incredibly challenging moves look effortless. Through years of practice, they honed muscle and tuned muscle memory to make leaping splits and pirouettes en pointe look as simple as walking. They had preeminent control, just like Amit Patel.

Ethan made an advance, a series of kicks and strikes that moved them halfway across the room, his motions nearly blurred with speed. Amit deflected them, but not as easily as he had the individual strikes. He had to work to battle Ethan back, which made my own blood race with excitement. Amit was a beauty to watch, certainly. But Ethan was execution and power—the modern dance to Amit’s ballet.

He executed a side kick that reached high enough to nearly brush Amit’s hair back from his head. Amit bent backward from the waist to avoid it, then completed the rotation, hands to the ground, flipping his feet over so he was standing again.

Amit’s eyes went wide with pleasure. “You’ve been practicing.”

“I have a very good sparring partner,” he said, and I flushed with pride as the vampires around me chuckled collegially and patted me on the back.

“Way to be, Sentinel,” Lindsey whispered.

I nodded but kept my eyes on the duo and their pas de deux on the mats. They made it very easy to watch.