Fade knew it too. And he wasn’t going to let slide the fact that Nate had killed two of his most popular fighters. The Neethul twins had been fairly new to the fighting scene, but their good looks and penchant for cruelly toying with their victims had been big draws for the crowds.
“How stupid do you think I am?” Fade signaled to his goons. “Lock them up.” His smile at Nate was pure evil. “Congratulations, Sabine. Once again, you get to watch your female die.”
For about thirty seconds after Fade shut his creepy mouth, Lena was sure Nate was going to explode into violence. After what she’d seen him do to the Neethuls, she knew he was very capable of it. In fact, the tension rose up in him so strongly that she could feel it in a tangible crackle in the inch of air between them and see it in his massively descended fangs and red-glowing eyes. But even as the demons tensed for battle, Nate calmed, almost as if the air had been let out of him.
He’d walked meekly alongside the demons, though he hadn’t let go of Lena. It wasn’t until they were thrown into a cell together that the depth of his anger became clear. As Fade’s laughter and the guards’ footsteps melted away, Nate rounded on her, fists clenched, the fire burning in his eyes again.
His voice was warped with rage. “I told you to leave.”
“You fired me for not sleeping with you,” she shot back, strangely grateful for his anger, because it kept her from falling apart. “I didn’t think you really had any right to order me around after that. You don’t even have any right to be angry with me, asshole.”
“How did you find Gladius?” he snapped, as if she hadn’t even spoken. “Did you follow me down here?”
“It doesn’t matter how I found it. What matters is that you’re a bastard. A sick, twisted, evil bastard who operates a business where death is entertainment.” She could have sworn she saw hurt flash in his eyes before they became chips of ruby ice again, but that didn’t stop her rant. “Why did you bother to save me? You should have bet on the outcome like everyone else.”
“Shut up.” His voice was as cold as his gaze.
“What’s the matter? Did I strike a nerve? Feeling a little guilty? Or are you upset that you got yourself into trouble with your boss?”
He took a step forward. “I said, shut up.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me? Newsflash, buddy. It’s going to happen anyway. But you can bet that if I disappear, my colleagues are going to tear this place down and feed it to you before they slaughter your ass.”
Actually, she hoped they’d pull a cavalry and rescue her. She just had to pray Eidolon and his brothers got her message before she was fed to the lions. Or whatever creatures were screeching in the nearby cages.
One second Nate was standing near the door, and the next he was chest to chest with her, pinning her against the wall. It didn’t escape her notice that they spent a lot of time in this position.
“Your colleagues,” he ground out. “At Underworld General? It’s time to stop with the games, little shifter, and tell me who the fuck you are and why you’re really here.”
“Bite me.”
That was so the wrong thing to say to a vampire who was teetering on the edge. He struck like a viper, sinking his fangs deep in her throat, and despite the dire situation, despite her anger and hurt and confusion at how he’d treated her and his involvement in the fight club, she gasped with pleasure. The initial sting turned into a lovely burn that spread through her body in the form of liquid heat. Vampires could make feeding horrifically painful or orgasmically wonderful, and clearly, Nate had gone with the latter.
But she couldn’t allow this. She hated him. Really. Weakly, she flattened her palms against his chest and shoved, but she didn’t need to. His head snapped up and he stepped back all by himself, surprise glittering in his eyes.
“You’re no tiger,” he snarled. “Damn you, has everything about you been a lie?”
She slapped her hand over the punctures in her throat. “Me? You’re the one who has a hidden door in his office. You’re the one who’s been hiding a club where people fight to the death.”
His nostrils flared, and his gaze zeroed in on her neck. Before she could protest, he peeled away her palm and licked the fang punctures, sealing the wound.
“Gods,” he murmured against her skin. “You taste like dark chocolate, and honey, and . . . canine.” He tore away from her, leaving her swaying unsteadily and relying on the wall behind her to hold her up. He faced away from her, his hands running through his hair over and over, as if doing so was as important to his existence as blood. “Why? Why are you here?”
“Because you murdered my brother.”
He wheeled around. “Who was your brother?”
“Given the number of people who probably pass through your arena, I doubt you’ll remember him,” she said bitterly.
“Who?”
“His name was Vaughn.” She raised her chin, meeting his gaze so he could see her pain. “He was a hyena shifter who died last week.”
“Hyena . . .” Nate’s brow furrowed. “Blond. Mismatched green and blue eyes.”
“So you do know who he was.”
Nate’s tongue flicked over one of the fangs he’d sunk into her flesh. “You’re not a hyena any more than you’re a tiger.”
“I am,” she ground out. “And you killed my brother.”
He snorted. “Your brother killed himself.”
With a pained cry, she launched herself at Nate. He caught her easily, well before she landed a single blow. “You son of a bitch,” she screamed. “You evil, heartless son of a bitch!”
From the nearby cages, she heard catcalls and cheers, as well as a few curses. Nate tugged her against him, his arms wrapping tightly around her, caging her so she couldn’t strike out.
“Shh.” His soft voice didn’t penetrate her anger. “Hey. Listen to me. Your brother came to us. He made a deal for a fight.”
“No. No! He wouldn’t—”
“He said he was dying.”
Dying? She stilled completely, freezing solid against Nate’s big body. “I don’t . . . I don’t understand. Why did he say that?”
“I don’t know.” He relaxed his hold, but still cradled her against his chest. “All I know is that he wanted to fight one of our champions, a hyena named Vic. And Vaughn made a provision that if he died in battle, Vic would leave Vaughn’s sister alone. I guess that’s you.”
“Oh, gods,” she whispered. “Vic. He’s here?”
“Yeah. Nasty bastard. Why would Vaughn want Vic to leave you alone?”
“Because,” she said, on a shaky inhale, “ever since my father died, Vic and my other brother, Van, have tried to kill me every few months.”
Curses fell from Nate’s mouth. “So Vaughn was here to guarantee your safety.”
His hand cupped the back of her head with surprising tenderness, and his voice softened, which was something she couldn’t afford to do. If Nate was telling the truth, he hadn’t killed Vaughn, exactly, but he was still a scumbag who ran a vile operation.
And yet, she didn’t pull away. She told herself she needed the support because her legs had gone all noodle. She told herself she was cold, and while he wasn’t overly warm, he wasn’t as icy as the air that smelled like raw sewage. She told herself all kinds of lies, because right now, she couldn’t handle the truth, the mind-boggling realization that hate was not the only thing she felt for Nate Sabine.
“Poor Vaughn,” she murmured. “He should have come to me. He didn’t need to sacrifice himself for me.”
“He loved you.” Nate paused. “Is there a reason he wouldn’t shift?”