Nightbred(87)

“The order is to kill anyone who attempts to intrude.” He grimaced as he lifted his sword. “I must end you or die trying.”

“So be it.” Jamys feinted with one blade at Glenveagh’s heart and, when the warrior parried, used his other fist to knock him into the street. As Glenveagh scrambled to his feet, Jamys entered and barred the door behind him.

Inside the nightclub twenty warriors stood in combat formation, their bodies surrounding a seated figure. The captain of the guard regarded him steadily, but he appeared pained, as if he was locked in dread.

Jamys advanced, stopping just out of range of the captain’s blade. He stared past Aldan at Lucan, who lay sprawled atop an armchair that had been dragged out of his office, a bottle of bloodwine in one gloved fist and a long sword dangling from the other.

“Where is she?” Jamys demanded.

“The prodigal traitor returns.” Lucan toasted him with the bottle before taking a swallow. He tossed the bloodwine aside, clambering to his feet with uncharacteristic clumsiness. “How biblical of you, boy.”

“Give Christian to me,” Jamys said, “and you need never lay eyes on either of us again.”

“Finally bedded her, did you?” Lucan grinned. “Was she any good at it, or did she whine and flop about?” He shook his sword at Jamys. “There be the rub with fucking these mortal wenches. All tears, no stamina.”

“Captain,” Jamys said to Aldan, “Lord Alenfar has insulted me and Miss Lang.”

The captain’s expression turned grim. “So it would seem, my lord.”

“You’ve no right to the Pearl Girl,” Lucan snarled. “She is my property, as are these men, this stronghold, and all that surrounds us. They will all do my bidding now.”

“No oath to you binds Christian,” Jamys said. “Tonight she agreed to become my kyara, and gave herself to me.” As Aldan stared at him, he nodded before he said to Lucan, “My scent is all over her. You had to know she was mine when you took her from the island.”

“So I had her taken,” Lucan sneered. “What of it? You can do nothing about it.”

“Stand down and bear witness,” the captain ordered, and the men moved to line the edge of the dance floor.

Outrage darkened Lucan’s face. “What are you doing? Get back over here and defend me.”

“Forgive us, my lord.” Aldan sketched a bow so shallow it bordered insulting. “While the circumstances are yet unclear to me, by your own admission you have verified Lord Durand’s claims against you. You have given him the right to challenge your rule.” When Lucan’s face remained blank, he added, “You have to fight him to the death, my lord.”

“Oh, is that all?” Lucan dropped his blade and stripped off his gloves. “Come here, whelp. I will be merciful and make it quick.”

“Using ability in a death challenge is not permitted, Suzerain.” Aldan picked up his sword and thrust it at him. “You must fight by blade.”

Jamys saw Lucan grasp the sword, and reach with his free hand to touch the golden medallion hanging around his throat. Ghost images of it echoed in his memory. He had seen the piece on Professor Gifford’s Web site . . . and, before that, hanging from the bull neck of the Kyn Jamys had encountered on the night he had arrived.

The visiting warrior who had come to his suite to take Christian and use her for sex, what had he called her? No need to play shy, Pearl Girl. I know how it is with ye household wenches. He’d used the same sly nickname Lucan had just uttered— You’ve no right to the Pearl Girl—and had worn the same medallion.

Jamys had no more time to think, for Lucan came at him, his sword sweeping through the air toward his neck. Jamys dodged the blow meant to decapitate him and brought up his daggers to parry the vicious backhand thrust that followed.

Jamys ducked under his arm only to find himself pinned against one of the bars. As Lucan charged, he vaulted over the counter.

“Durand.” A sword came flying at him, and Jamys reached up and caught the hilt. By then Lucan had reached him, and he barely eluded a blade thrust to his chest. The suzerain’s sword cut through the flesh of his upper arm, causing his blood to spill in a wide swath.

Jamys dropped down, using his Kyn strength to leap over the bar behind the suzerain, who spun around to prevent the blow to his own neck. As their blades clashed, sparks burst from the metal, and Jamys used the split second of blinding light to fling his remaining dagger into the center of Lucan’s neck.

With a roar the suzerain staggered backward, slashing at Jamys as he reached for him. He stumbled as Jamys yanked his dagger free, using the shorter blade to cut through the chain holding the medallion, which fell to the floor between them.