And any man who took me on as a life-mate would have to accept that my brother would always be an intense part of my life. Though that would only matter if we both survived this hellhole.
The two of them stopped in front of the table, but only the black man bowed. Now that he was closer, I could see the scars littering his arms, chest, and stomach. This man was a veteran of the arena. Which, in turn, meant he was an extremely good fighter.
So was my brother, but this giant had the advantage of reach and sheer damn size. And those would matter, as Rhoan couldn’t afford to use his vampire-gifted strengths. He had to play it strictly as a wolf.
I pushed my plate away and leaned back in my seat. If I ate any more I’d lose my stomach. Which might delay things for a minute or two, but not stop. The gleam in Starr’s eyes suggested nothing short of his death would stop this game unfolding.
And if not for the guns trained on me, and the closeness of Merle, I might have considered that option.
Starr looked at me, eyebrow raised. “Lost your appetite for any reason, my dear?”
“Yeah. I saw your idea of entertainment last night. I’m not up to seeing someone else beaten up and then butt-fucked until they’re almost dead.” I let my gaze roll down the giant’s body. “Though one of them doesn’t look as if he’s got a dick, let alone spines.”
The giant snarled, and Starr laughed. “Perhaps I should let him show you just how well a little man can use his weapon.”
I met Starr’s gaze evenly. “You let him anywhere near me, and I’ll kick him in his unseen goolies, bring him back to a manageable height, then take him out.”
He raised an eyebrow, his expression mocking. “I know wolves—or even part wolves—are strong, but are you seriously trying to tell me you think you could take the giant out?”
“Have you ever been kicked in the goolies?”
“No, but—”
“Would you like to be? Just to experience how well it can nullify a man?”
He laughed again. The sound sent another round of chills down my spine. “You have attitude. I like that.”
So if he was liking it so much, why was he looking at me like a cat who’d just spotted a tasty mouse? And why did all the sickos of this world always have to look at me like that? First Gautier, now Starr. Or was it simply an inherited look? After all, they did share the same gene pool, even if Gautier was conceived in a tube and Starr in the womb.
“Would you like to fight him, then?”
“I may have a big mouth, but I am not a fool.” Sarcasm edged my voice. “So no. Especially when he’s been warned of my intentions.”
“Shame.” Starr glanced at the two men. “Proceed.”
And just like that, the fight began. The black giant was fast, his huge fists a blur of power that could easily have smashed Rhoan across the room if they’d gotten anywhere near him. Which they didn’t. Even relying only on wolf skills, my brother was fast enough to avoid the blows. He wasn’t replying with any of his own just yet, merely sitting back, watching the giant and biding his time.
A tingle ran across my skin, and I knew without looking that Starr was watching me again. I forced myself to lean back, to pretend disinterest when all I wanted to do was cheer Rhoan on. I picked up my glass, and slowly sipped at the cool, bitter wine. Or maybe it was sweet, and it was just my taste buds that were off, frozen by the fear that was continuously building deep inside. “If this is your idea of breakfast entertainment, I sure as hell don’t want a dinner invitation.”“If I want you here, you will be here.” Starr’s voice was mild, and yet still managed to be menacing. “Just as if I wanted you to watch that fight, you would.”
I looked at him. “Short of hog-tying me and forcing my eyelids open, that’s not possible.”
“Anything is possible when you put your mind to it, my dear.”
Even as he said the words, a scratchy, burning tingle began to buzz the edges of my thoughts and his bloodshot gaze seemed to grow, until it consumed my entire vision.
He was trying to get a mind-lock on me, trying to read me.
I threw as much energy as I could into my mindshields, and tried to ignore the terror threatening to swamp me. Luckily, he wasn’t a vampire, and wouldn’t hear the rapid pounding of my pulse. But he—or the man who’d taken over Starr’s identity—was a wolf. And he would smell my fear, if nothing else.
But maybe that was a good thing. Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid in this sort of situation, no matter how big a front they were putting on.
The buzzing got stronger, sending tiny reverberations of sick-feeling energy down my spine. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have worried—I worked with vampires, and knew from experience they couldn’t break my barriers. But this situation—and this man—wasn’t normal by any standards. I had no idea if my shields were strong enough to stand up to such a concerted assault, simply because I’d never really been tested that way. Gautier tried just about every time he saw me, but it was almost a habit these days—something he did more to piss me off. He didn’t have the strength of mind to get past my shields and we both knew it.
Starr, however, was an entirely different matter.
The assault continued to grow, until my entire body seemed to hum with the force of his energy. It was a horrible sensation—like having my hand wrapped around an electric fence, only the energy flowing through muscle and nerve was fetid rather than clean. Sweat began to dribble down my hairline, and deep behind my eyes, an ache began.
A grunt broke the tableau, and a second later, the giant crashed into the table, his head hitting the wood with a sharp crack as his flailing arms sent glass and plates flying.
Starr cursed, his chair crashing backward as he jumped up to avoid the red wine, food, and shards of glass. The buzz of energy snapped away, the shock of it making me gasp softly. My gaze met Rhoan’s. He raised an eyebrow, and I nodded, just enough to let him know I was okay.
For now, at least.
The giant righted himself, and with a roar, charged back into the fight. Rhoan sidestepped neatly and gave the giant a passing punch for his troubles. That punch sent the giant flailing again. I frowned, hoping like hell my brother didn’t use his vampire strength too much.
“For a scrawny piece of wolf, he sure has some power in him,” Merle drawled. “There’s not many who could throw Middy like that.”
“No.” Starr wiped spots of red from his shirt, then righted his chair and sat back down. Surprisingly, no one came running to clean up all the mess. Not until Starr clicked his fingers, anyway. As the loinclothed waiters hurried to the table, Starr continued, “Hasn’t he had military training, though?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t seen many military men move like that wolf moves.”
“And you spend a lot of time around wolves, do you?” I asked mildly.
Merle’s grin was all anticipation as he briefly dragged his gaze away from the fight. “No, but I’m intending to.”
My gaze slipped down his body. The fighting had aroused him—which undoubtedly meant another session of uninspired sex coming up. Oh, joy.
Though I’d take a weekend of uninspired, boring sex over spending five minutes more in Starr’s company, any day.
“There are two types of males in the wolf world—those who are alphas—pack leaders or would-be pack leaders—and those who are betas—pack followers. Alphas lead not just because they are fast and strong, but because they are willing to go to extreme lengths to protect pack and kin. I’m betting that wolf there is an alpha.”
“But he’s not protecting pack here,” Starr said.
I glanced at him. His expression might be giving little away, but his suspicion was just about drowning my “other” senses. I forced a smile. “You can protect a pack of one, you know.”
“Does that mean you consider yourself an alpha female?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never really thought about it, but maybe I am.”
“Then perhaps we should let you fight this wolf and see what happens.”
I couldn’t help the glance I cast Rhoan’s way. Nor could I help another surge of worry and fear. Rhoan must have felt it, because he stumbled briefly—for no reason—and barely righted himself to avoid another blow. “He’s military. I’m only street trained. I hardly think that’s a fair match, do you?”
His grin was another one of those chill-inducing things. “One thing you have to learn, little girl, is that what I want, I get.”
Most little dictators thought that—right until the moment death looked them in the eye and ripped out their stinking, rotten hearts. And more and more, I wanted to be there to see that. If not do it. I might not want to kill on a long-term basis, but on a short-term, one-off basis, yeah, I could handle it.
But why did he want to see us fight? What was the point of it, beyond seeing if we were willing to bash the crap out of each other…my thoughts stilled.
That was it exactly.
It was just another test. Just another way to check his suspicions.
Shit, shit, shit.
He clapped his hands, and the giant stopped instantly. Rhoan was a little slower on the uptake, dropping the suddenly still giant with a kick to the back of the knee. The sound of bone snapping seemed to echo around the room. The giant dropped like a stone and grabbed his leg, and though he made no sound, the look he cast Rhoan’s way suggested my brother wouldn’t want to go near him anytime soon.