It was a technical term for this type of fight. The vampires were circling him like a pack of wolves. Beck was particularly talented when it came to defending against a pack rotation, but Dante didn’t need to point that out.
Beck shot the vampire a look. Dante was standing at the edge of the railing. Meg was standing right beside him, her face sheet-white as she watched the men surrounding him. She felt the connection, he realized. Beck had expected the connection. He had opened himself to it, but if Meg had felt it, too, it must be strong. Something warm filled Beck at the thought of it. It was the only explanation for why she was standing there, looking like her world was about to fall apart. She knew they belonged together. She might not be willing to admit it, even to herself, but the bond was already being formed.
And then Beck sensed something coming at him, fast. He had a bare second before the vampire was on him. Beck leaned down, trying to time it perfectly and get just the right angle. The vampire hit his back. Beck shoved up with everything he had. It sent the vamp flying through the air, knocking down a rival on the other side of the circle. Beck was immediately back on his feet, anticipating the attack from the other side.
Vampires were fast. They talked fast, and moved even faster when they needed to. When fighting a vampire, Beck knew it was more important to rely on his fighting instincts than his eyes. Sometimes a vamp could move faster than the eye could track. It came down to anticipating the next move. Vampires were immensely logical creatures. They trained and tended to do everything by the book. It was why Dante had trouble fitting in. Dante thought more creatively. In this case, the vampires’ slavish devotion to the method came in handy.
In his mind, Beck numbered them One through Fifteen. Eight had tumbled straight into Two across the ring the vampires had formed. Both were struggling to get to their feet. It gave Beck a chance to concentrate on the next assault. It would come from Twelve and Five.
Beck thrust out with his sword, catching Twelve in the belly as he kicked out in perfect precision, shoving Five back. He twisted his body slightly to take out Ten and Three in the same fashion.
Instinct took over as his sword bloodied. He no longer thought about Meg or Dante or even Cian. He and the sword moved in perfect precision. The blade became a simple extension of his being. Beck relaxed, letting his hearing confirm the order in which his brain told him they would attack. He danced as they attacked, his sword finding purchase in their strong bodies. Every time he sank the steel into another body, his hunger grew. He wanted to kill. The horn blared, calling an end to this round of fighting. It was an intrusive sound.
Beck breathed deeply, fighting the instinct to attack the little gnomes as they ran onto the field to pull off the injured competitors who called for quarter. He wanted to skewer the little ones. They would look good on his blade, the dark voice in his head whispered. It was their fault. They had walked onto his killing field. They should expect death. They were dragging off his prey before he even had a chance to finish them. It was his right. He turned to raise his sword and stop the interlopers when Meg’s face stopped him. She looked over the railing at the bottom of the arena. She must have convinced Dante and Rhys to allow her to move closer. Her face was worried. She was worried for him. She shouldn’t be worried for him. She should be scared of him.
Beck was shaking with rage as he stopped himself. Meg would never come to him if she saw what an animal he could be. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He swallowed as the horn blared, and the battle began anew.
The remaining vampires didn’t wait this time. All eight rushed him immediately. Beck was knocked back by the unexpected charge. Though his back hit the sand, a fierce joy took over. He did love a good fight. Up until now, the battle had been rote. Now, he was thrown a bit off balance.
A big vamp, with fangs and claws out, leapt on top of him. Beck grimaced as he felt the sharp claws sink into his left shoulder. He felt the blood start to flow and knew it would make the vamps a little crazy. He’d feared chaos, and now he was going to get it. Shoving his foot upwards, Beck launched the vamp up and over as he brought his sword up just in time to skewer the next vampire who jumped on him.
Gravity pulled the vamp down, and Beck noticed his aim had been perfect. As the vampire sunk onto the sword, the iron of the ancient weapon tore through his heart, one of two sure ways to kill a vampire. The race was tough as nails but vulnerable when it came to their hearts. Even a minor injury to the heart usually killed a vampire. The only other sure way was decapitation. Beck rolled away as fast as he could, knowing what would come next. Vampires didn’t die quietly. They sort of exploded.
The rest of the vamps took a quick step back as their fallen compatriot came apart. Beck narrowly managed to avoid being covered in gore, but his senses filled with the smell and scent of blood. It did nothing to calm his inner beast. Everything inside Beck gloried in the death of his opponent. The female was his. They were attempting to take what was rightfully his.
Beck moved out of the way of the next assault. Two vampires threw themselves down, one catching Beck while he was still blinded by the bits of dead vamp covering his eyes. Beck roared as he felt the vampire sink his fangs into the vulnerable flesh between his neck and shoulder. Luckily, he had squirmed enough so the bastard hadn’t gotten his jugular.
He heard, no, felt, Meggie’s scream. It spurred him to action. He took a single, strong punch to his face from a second attacking vamp. He saw several more stepping forward to take a shot, too. The vamp on his neck was trying to get a better angle. Beck reached up and pulled him off his back, tossing him into the vampires attacking his front. The place where the vamp’s fangs had sunken in ached, and Beck knew the vamp had gotten away with a hunk of his flesh.
It didn’t matter. He healed quickly.
He moved even faster. He skewered the vamp who had taken a chunk out of him, and his aim was perfect. The vamp exploded, even as he pulled his sword out and moved on to the next.
The blood and gore was having an effect on the vamps as well. Two of the vampires had turned on each other. Out of the corner of Beck’s eye, he watched as they screamed, fangs and claws out. The pair attacked each other viciously. They sunk their claws into each other’s bellies, and the high-pitched sound of their pain hurt Beck’s ears. The two quickly dropped to the ground. They rolled in the sand, each desperate to gut the other. Vampires, for all their claims to civilization, were just as feral as the rest.
There were only six left, and two were doing their damndest to kill each other. A fierce joy raced through him as he brought the hilt of his sword down on a vamp he had tripped as he attempted to run away. Silly creature. There was nowhere to run. He raised his sword to bring it down on the vamp’s throat. He was swinging it in an arc toward the unconscious rival’s body when he was tackled from the side. Beck roared as he toppled over.
“Quarter!” the vampire yelled as he scrambled to get his knife properly in his hand. “He is out, Beck. You can’t kill a man who’s already gone down.”
It was the same vampire who had drawn Dante’s ire. He was covered in sweat and blood. His hood had fallen back, and his pale skin was already burning. “Give it a rest, Beck. It’s over. The female is yours. We give.”
Beck didn’t really hear him. He simply knew he was on his back in a submissive position, and that would never do. With a single hand, he tossed the vampire away like he was a child’s toy. Somewhere in the back of his rage-addled head, he recognized that the gnomes had taken to the floor. They were trying to help out the injured combatants. It no longer mattered. His rage required blood.