Twenty minutes later Goodfellow, still not at peak performance after his drunken three days, was in a cab on his way to Promise’s penthouse apartment. His playmates had left fifteen minutes prior to that. Apparently, a sword fight in the living room wasn’t the aphrodisiac one might imagine.
“You enjoyed that way too much,” Cal observed as he watched the cab pull into traffic.
“Did I?” Salome, the Great Dane-loving feline, was staying behind. She didn’t need to eat, drink, or eliminate. She would be fine on her own. All in all, other than the killing of domesticated animals twenty times her size, she was the perfect pet. Robin would be selling them via infomercial within the month. Goodfellow’s Mummy Cats—Gummy Cats no doubt.
“You’re getting cranky in your old age, Cyrano,” he snorted at the satisfaction in my voice.
“Children need boundaries.” I had enjoyed it; there was no denying it. And if he hadn’t been up all night doing things Caligula had only dreamed of, he would’ve been able to hold his own. As it was, workoutwise . . .
I shifted a speculative gaze to Cal, and he groaned. “Nik, damn. My back hurts. I’m still tired from last night. Come on.”
It was several hours and dark before we made it home to do packing of our own. We stayed away from the park this time and used a dojo where I’d once taught. One student had offered to spar with Cal during one of our breaks. Cal, sweaty and tired, had given him the highly pissed-off reply of, “Niko can keep me from killing him. You can’t. Go away.” Not precisely tactful, but true. His form was virtually nonexistent, the results undeniably deadly. He wasn’t as good as I was—there was only so much inherent laziness one could overcome, but he was good.
Good enough that he noticed it the same moment I did. We’d finished sparring and went home to pick up clothes and gear to take to Promise’s penthouse. Reaching our apartment door, we entered, and it came that quickly before I had a chance to turn the light on. The sensation of something slicing through the air—headed in our direction. I gave Cal one hard push to the side and dove to the floor. It passed over my head and hit the wall with a distinctive chopping sound. A sword. Not Auphe, then. An Auphe didn’t need a sword.
“Vampire,” Cal said, his voice coming from near the floor by the couch. “I smell you, Seamus. You ambushing piece of shit.”
Seamus, whose jealousy phase had passed a century ago. I’d trusted Promise’s normally excellent judgment. I should’ve trusted Cal’s; I should’ve trusted my own. I heard the sound of metal ripped free of plaster, and then I could see him as he moved back. Silhouetted against the city lights streaming through the cracked window blinds, the bulk of him paused for a moment, then slid with a fluid speed to the right.
“I never knew I wanted her back, all these years. But then I saw her again. Smelled her. Touched her. And I do want her back. She should be with me,” he spat. “She belongs with me. Her mate. Her true mate.”
I’d moved to my feet, silent and smooth. I caught the next swing of his blade on my own before I spoke. “Her choice, not yours.”
Vampires could see better than humans in the dark, but my eyes had adjusted now. I could see him, albeit in shades of dark gray and black. “Then I shall narrow her options,” he said coldly.
There were no further words, only the sound of blade against blade. Cal would have his Glock in hand, but Seamus and I were moving too fast for him to get a shot lined up. The vampire was quick and he was good—the type of good that was learned from time on a battlefield. Years. But I’d been in battles myself, faced creatures I doubt even Seamus had ever seen. Yes, vampires were quick and lethal.
But so was I.
I twisted and swung the katana. Inches from having his head severed, Seamus jerked to one side and sliced toward me again. From the shadowy length and breadth of it, he was carrying a broadsword. He swung it like it was one. Two-handed and with the weight of a mountain behind it. In the dim light, I could see his eyes were all black—the eyes of a vampire in the midst of strong emotion. Fury, I was guessing. I used it. His next strike, full of rage, took him slightly off balance. Barely detectable, but I caught it. I slammed a boot in his gut. He staggered, but less than he should have. His breed was stronger than humans, and Seamus, big and broad, was no exception. I slid around his next blow, but it was close. The point of the sword cut through my skin, tracing a superficial slice. He gave an incoherent growl at the miss and with one furious kick sent the couch flying up on end to then promptly topple over. I heard Cal curse as he leapt out of the way. Then I heard him say one more thing.
“Lights.”
Vampires could see well in the dark, yes, but humans saw well in the light. As our lights flared on, Seamus closed his eyes against it for a fraction of a second. That was about half as long as I needed. He swiveled, but not before I carved off a slice of flesh over his ribs. He didn’t let that slow him. He kept coming . . . right into Cal’s crosshairs. Three bullets hit his upper back before he shifted direction and made it to the door, split it in half with his weight, and was gone. Cal, by the light switch, instantly vaulted over the shattered wood to follow him.
It was too late. If he’d thought it through, he’d know that. Short of chasing Seamus down to the lobby and killing him in front of anyone who happened to be strolling through, this fight was over. I reached through the doorway and caught Cal by the back of his jacket as the door to the stairwell slammed shut at the end of the hall. I saw it on the wall down there and on the doorknob, swipes and smears of dark red. Blood. Some would say quite a bit.
I would say not nearly enough.
5
“He’s good.”
That’s what Niko said in the aftermath of the fight while mopping the small amount of blood from his chest with a washcloth. “He’s good.” Like he’d say, “It’s hot today,” or “Darn, I’m out of tofu.”
He’d tagged Nik during a sword fight. He was more than good. And those three shots I’d put in him weren’t going to slow him down. Vampires healed fast and had an incredible tolerance for pain. All of that made Seamus a problem. Because, hey, the Auphe weren’t enough. Let’s add another goddamned monster gunning for my brother.
The couch had already been tossed over. What was one more kick? I slammed my foot against it. It didn’t make me feel any better, but it didn’t make me feel any worse either. “I told you I didn’t trust him,” I said grimly, as he pulled a new shirt on. “Being followed, my ass. He planned that.”
“No, that was real. Or whoever shot that spear would’ve killed me then. But there’s no denying Seamus used being followed as an opportunity to get closer to Promise.” The meeting she’d had yesterday with him that she hadn’t told Niko about. “And if he killed us both . . .” Niko’s eyes glittered with an anger he normally would’ve kept hidden. Niko didn’t have many buttons, but Seamus was pushing the ones he had—Promise and me. “Who’s to say it couldn’t be blamed on those following him?”
“And how hard could killing us be? Two humans.” I wasn’t really human, though, and Niko was by no means your average one, but Seamus hadn’t known that. He knew now . . . at least when it came to Nik. No matter how long the bastard had been around, Niko was his match—even in an ambush.
So what would he try next time? How much further would he go to get what he wanted?
Far.
“We don’t have time for this. Not now,” Niko said firmly, the anger already squelched under his customary control. “We’ll deal with it later.”
He was right. We didn’t have time for it, but Seamus had plenty of time. All the time in the world. The son of a bitch. “Promise isn’t going to be too happy.” I wasn’t too happy about it myself. Then again, I hadn’t had a secret meeting with the Scottish bastard. Maybe Promise wouldn’t be happy in an entirely different way. Niko said he trusted her, and that should’ve been good enough for me. And for him, I was trying damn hard to make it be. I hefted the duffel bag I’d stuffed with clothes, weapons, and ammunition, my grip tight enough to whiten my knuckles.