Wicked All Night Page 5

  The rest of his body was humanoid and so slabbed with muscle, it looked like he’d been given injections of supernatural steroids for at least a hundred years. With his immense size, Naxos should have been slow and lumbering. But he switched from galloping on all fours to running on two legs to spinning around with a speed and fluidness that made me want to throw up.

  Great. Minotaurs were as fast as vampires. Just as strong, too, judging from how easily Naxos ripped one of the stone statues bordering the arena off its base. He bit its head off, spat it out, and snapped the body in half before hurling the pieces so far, people on the ground level of the stadium had to scatter to avoid them.

  The crowd loved his violent showmanship. They cheered so loudly that my head pulsed in rhythm with the sound.

  No wonder people had been betting against Ian. If I didn’t know better, I might have, too.

  But Ian was far stronger and faster than other Master vampires. He also possessed Cain’s horn; an ancient, magic-infused weapon that was lethal to all kinds of creatures. Ten days ago—no, a month for Ian, dammit!—Ian had slain two Anzus with that horn, and Anzus, like Minotaurs, were creatures from mythology who couldn’t be killed by normal means.

  So, fearsome though he may be, Naxos shouldn’t be able to defeat Ian. My nerves settled a bit.

  “Bring out the challenger!” Phanes commanded.

  At that, a gong sounded so loudly right behind me that I almost jumped out of my skin. I turned and saw Helena, still holding the mallet she’d used to bang on the shield-sized percussion instrument. She gave me a guileless look, but I doubted it was an accident that she’d positioned the gong directly behind my head. If this was her revenge for me clapping my hands at her, I had to admire her pettiness.

  I quickly swung back around, because my ringing ears were the least of my concerns. Still, the gong had deafened me to the point where it took a few seconds to hear the boos from the crowd as Ian took the field.

  He didn’t run out the way Naxos had. In fact, Ian almost strolled, his right hand flitting out in an occasional wave at the booing crowd. His left hand held some kind of wrapped flag on a long, dark pole. When he was halfway across the field, Ian started heading right toward me.

  Phanes leaned toward me. “I know this is difficult for you,” he said in a low tone. “But if you interfere in the trials, your life and his life will be forfeit. Remember that.”

  I didn’t reply. My gaze was all for Ian as I searched his features to see if I could detect anything that showed whether Ashael had been able to pass on my message to him.

  Nothing but a cool mask stared back at me. The carved statues around the arena emitted more emotion than he did.

  I ground my teeth. I couldn’t give away the game to Phanes by saying what I wanted to say to Ian. Phanes would either call it “interference” in the trials, or refuse to let me watch them.

  But, oh, being this close to Ian and not being able to verbalize any of the emotions bursting within me was torturous!

  Then, to my surprise, Ian bowed in a courtly way once he reached the top of the stairs.

  “Long ago in my world, knights often gave ceremonial tokens to ladies before a battle or competition,” he said, not even looking at Phanes. “In honor of my forefathers’ custom, I now lay this token at your feet, my lady.”

  With that, he unfurled the flag and set its pole on the cool, white stone at my feet—

  I gasped.

  Not a flagpole. Cain’s horn, the only weapon that could kill any creature it pierced. Ian was giving it to me before his fight to the death against a Minotaur? Why?

  I stared at the horn. The last time I’d seen it, it had reformed itself to wrap around Ian’s knuckles. Another of the horn’s many dangerous qualities was the ability to form any shape its owner desired. Now, the ancient weapon was as straight as a kudu bull horn could be, which meant that it had a double curve in the middle of its swordlike length.

  I recovered from my shock to glare at Ian. Why would he do this? The horn was his only guarantee that he’d survive!

  Phanes also gave a quizzical look at the dark, highly polished object.

  “Why would you think she’d want such a thing?”

  “Because I know how much she enjoys having my horn in her hands,” Ian replied in such a bland tone, it took Phanes a second to translate the double entendre.

  “By the gods, you have nerve,” Phanes said, with a short laugh. “Don’t fear, though. With or without that poor excuse for a present, her hands won’t be empty for long.”

  “Will you two stop?” I glared at both of them, and then stepped back from the horn. “You know I can’t accept this, Ian, so please. Take it.”

  Take it, take it, take it! my look screamed at him. If it wouldn’t blow the back of my head off, I’d grab the horn and shove it into Ian’s hands. But Ian was the only one who could pick it up without activating the horn’s defensive mechanism, and I wanted my brains in my skull. Not splattered all over Phanes’s stone version of an owner’s box.

  Ian only turned and descended the steps, giving me a little wave over his shoulder.

  “Don’t want it? Then keep watch over it for me. This shouldn’t take long.”

  “You’re right. It shouldn’t,” Phanes said with dark expectancy.

  If he dies, I will mop the netherworld with your screaming soul! my other half promised.

  I agreed with her. Or me. Whatever.

  Gods, I’d need so much therapy if Ian and I survived long enough to make it back to our world. That was an issue for another day, though. Until then, I needed the icy resolve that came from embracing my more sociopathic side.

  It only took moments to feel more like her than myself, and she wasn’t nearly as worried as I was. In fact, she was almost anticipatory as Phanes raised his hand and shouted, “Challenger, face the champion!”

  The gong behind me boomed once more. This time I barely noticed the resounding blast to my ears, and I didn’t spare Helena a glance for her second petty vengeance. My focus was on Ian, strolling toward the Minotaur that bared his teeth at him while snorting like a bull about to charge.

  Simple beast, my other half thought. You are no match for my sorcerer.

  I latched on to her contemptuous confidence, until I could watch without feeling like my long-dormant heart was about to start beating again from sheer anxiety.

  Phanes rose, waiting until every eye was on him before he spoke. “Challenger, if you carry the baton to the end of the first track, then throw the discus past the required point at the end of that track, and then finally, pierce the pomegranate with your arrow, you will have won the trials. However, you cannot utilize any abilities beyond your own strength and speed, or you will have cheated, and your life will be forfeit.”

  Sonofabitch! What was Ian supposed to use against the Minotaur? Cutting insults?

  “The vampire must also be allowed to use his fangs and healing abilities,” I said, rising to my feet as well. “Rapid healing is automatic for vampires, and fangs are as much a part of their species as horns are for a Minotaur.”

  Ian saluted me, while Phanes’s mouth tightened. The side-eye Phanes then gave me said that he didn’t like being corrected, especially in public.

  “Of course those are allowed, too,” Phanes finally said.

  Ian glanced at Naxos. “What’s this bloke supposed to do while I’m busy running, throwing and shooting things?”

  Phanes’s smile made his next words unnecessary. I knew death when I saw it, no matter what package it came wrapped in.

  “The baton, disc, and bow all belong to Naxos, so he will be defending his property. You only get to use them if you are able to take them from him to complete the three trials . . . and no challenger in over three thousand years has been able to do that.”

  Chapter 11

  Naxos pawed the ground again before making a sound like a bull’s snort combined with a human’s roar. The crowd cheered when they heard it, and Phanes smi
led.

  “Let the contest begin!”

  Naxos charged Ian at full speed. Ian didn’t move. My nails dug into my thighs as my darkness pounded against my skin, demanding to be freed.

  I held it down with all my strength, silently screaming, Move, dammit, move! at Ian.

  He didn’t.

  Naxos’s hooves kicked up patches of earth as he ran faster. He bent his head, pointing those deadly, sharp horns at Ian’s midsection. My nails dug in harder, and I felt a scream rise. Why wasn’t Ian moving? Why? Those horns would shred him—

  Ian jumped high right before Naxos’s horns tore into him. The Minotaur ran beneath him, howling as he realized he’d been tricked. Naxos tried to swing around, but Ian used his downward momentum to full advantage, and launched a two-legged kick right into Naxos’s hindquarters.

  The Minotaur sprawled forward face first, horns plowing deep into the earth. The sudden resistance from his horns versus his far heavier body still going forward at full speed had brutal results. The crack! as Naxos’s neck broke and his body pitched over his head was loud enough to reach me.

  “Yes!” I shouted.

  Ian heard that and grinned, saluting me again. Then, he ran over to where Naxos had left the baton, picked it up, and ran it back to the end of the track.

  By the time Ian picked up the discus, Naxos’s neck had healed, and his body was no longer grotesquely folded over the wrong way. He got up, shook his head as if verifying that it was on the right way now, and then glared at Ian while literal steam came from his nostrils.

  “He’s made Naxos angry.” Phanes sounded almost surprised. “I’ve never seen Naxos angry before. Things are about to become very bloody.”

  Ian sighted down the field at the line that marked the necessary distance for the throw. Then, he spun in a circle, building up momentum, as if there wasn’t an enraged Minotaur now barreling down the arena toward him.

  “He won’t get away with that jumping trick twice,” Phanes said, leaning forward in anticipation.

  I’d grabbed the heavy golden wineglass Helena had left for me and raised it before I stopped myself. No, I could not bash it over Phanes’s head no matter how much I wanted to. Besides, the wineglass wasn’t large enough. The kylix would’ve had a much better chance at splitting Phanes’s skull.

  Helena filled my glass, making the assumption that I’d raised it in a silent command for wine. I set it down without looking away from Ian as he spun for a second time. Naxos was now so close, Ian should be able to feel the breath from the Minotaur’s furious bellows. Why did he only keep spinning?

  Jump! Run! Or fight! I silently screeched.

  Ian released the discus right as Naxos rammed into him.

  Horns ripped through Ian’s midsection. Blood and larger hunks flew as Naxos shook his head, resembling a great white shark more than a mythical bull-man hybrid. Ian grabbed at Naxos, trying to get enough leverage to pull free, but the Minotaur rammed Ian into the earth with a vengeful bellow.

  A shower of crimson and dirt spurted around Naxos’s head. He’d used such force, only Ian’s arms and legs were now visible on either side of the Minotaur’s head. The rest of Ian’s body was in the hole Naxos had made with the horrific impact.

  In my peripheral vision, I saw the discus tear through the base of the stands at the opposite end of the field, well past the measuring line. Not that it mattered now.

  More gore rose from the hole around Naxos. My power pushed against my skin as if it were a living thing trying to escape.

  I would kill Naxos. I would rip him limb from limb, and then command ice shards to riddle his bleeding corpse—

  Phanes grabbed my arm. I hadn’t been aware of standing, but his hard yank pulled me back down.

  “You cannot interfere,” he said in an urgent tone. “You will only needlessly forfeit your life. Let him die with honor, not live long enough to see that he’s condemned you, too.”

  Oh, that wasn’t going to happen. Screw my more natural powers over water and ice. I’d rip out Phanes’s and Naxos’s souls like the horrifying creature I really was—

  Naxos flew backward, landing on his ass over four meters away. Ian leapt after him, his shoulder armor spattered red from his own guts while the rest of his tunic was torn away.

  Phanes’s hand dropped from my arm. “How?” he whispered.

  I didn’t care how. I gripped my bench, exultation shooting through me until I felt drunk with it.

  Naxos quickly recovered and charged Ian again. Ian leapt to the side, but swung his fist. It landed dead center between Naxos’s eyes, denting the Minotaur’s face. Naxos staggered as if he’d been shot.

  I jumped to my feet. Naxos staggered forward. Ian pivoted and kicked Naxos’s legs out from under him, then landed a brutal elbow to the back of Naxos’s head. The Minotaur fell, and Ian pounced, using Naxos’s horns to whip his head around until his neck snapped.

  Naxos went limp. Gasps sounded all around the arena as Ian grabbed Naxos’s ankles and vaulted himself up. Then, muscles in his back bunching, Ian swung Naxos over his head as if the massive Minotaur were nothing more than a sack of grain.

  Those gasps turned into stunned silence as Ian slammed the Minotaur into the ground, using Naxos’s great size against him once again. Naxos howled as multiple bones broke from the tremendous impact. If they’d been on concrete instead of earth, the Minotaur’s skull would’ve cracked open.

  Naxos tried to rear up, only to be slammed down again, harder. Ian’s remaining armor flew from his shoulders as he kept heaving the Minotaur over his head, only to slam him down before repeating the brutal punishment. The incredible effort should have slowed Ian, but astonishingly, he seemed to be picking up speed.

  I was so mesmerized that it took a second to notice the strange, zigzagging line running up Ian’s back. At first, I thought the dark red marking was just more blood. But this marking had sharp angles, unlike the drips and smears from Naxos’s goring, and it was also slightly darker.

  A scar, I’d think on anyone else. Except vampires couldn’t get new scars, and Ian hadn’t had this one before.

  “How is he doing this?” Phanes whispered. “How?”

  I wasn’t sure. Yes, Ian was a Master vampire, and Master vampires could throw a car if they wanted to. But they could only do that two or three times, and only if they were old, powerful Master vampires. Naxos had to weigh more than a Chevy Suburban, and here Ian was thwacking him from side to side like the Minotaur was a bag of ice cubes that needed to be broken up.

  Then, Ian let go of one of Naxos’s legs to snatch his arm. The Minotaur tried to gore him with his horns, but he couldn’t reach him. His back and several other bones must have been too badly broken. With a fierce grin, Ian began to spin in a circle with Naxos still in his grip.

  What was he going to do? Throw the Minotaur across the field like he’d thrown the discus? That wouldn’t stop him for long!

  Ian spun faster. Soon, I couldn’t make them out as individuals. I only saw a dark blur against a pale one, spinning until it was dizzying to watch. Ian was building up to something more than tossing the Minotaur down the field. I could feel it in the power that now sizzled out of Ian like an erupting volcano, shocking me with its intensity.

  He’d never felt like this before. I hadn’t even known he could. What was happening?

  Ian abruptly stopped spinning, and something dark shot straight up into the air. The crowd jumped to their feet, their roar causing the stadium to shake as they realized what it was. I realized it, too, but unlike them, I didn’t move.

  Phanes rose, too, shock suffusing his features as he watched Naxos rocket into the sky as if he’d been fired from the world’s biggest cannon. Soon, Naxos was gone, leaving only a hole in the clouds where his body had blasted through them.

  Ian’s muscles were still bunched from the unbelievable strength he’d utilized to throw the Minotaur so high that Naxos had disappeared from sight. Then, Ian knocked the last of his shoulder armor
off, leaving only a few ragged pieces of clothing and that strange, new scar on his upper body. Finally, he turned, flashing a grin my way that shook Phanes from his silent disbelief.

  “He couldn’t have done that with his strength alone,” Phanes said, rounding on me. “No vampire could! If not magic, then how did he do this?”

  I didn’t know, but I wasn’t about to say that. “You saw for yourself,” I said in a firm voice that belied my confusion. “He threw him. No magic, no tricks. Just raw power.”

  Power that shouldn’t be possible. Yes, Ian had always been unusually strong and quick, even before his added power from absorbing Dagon’s essence when he was trapped inside the demon. But Phanes was right; this was beyond a vampire’s ability, even a Master vampire who’d absorbed demon powers. Hell, it was beyond my ability, and I could do downright freaky things when I let my other half have free reign.

  Another deafening cheer tore my attention back to Ian, who was now retrieving Naxos’s bow. He bent the bronze arc, notched the single arrow, and aimed it at the final target, which still swayed from the turbulence left behind from Naxos’s exit.

  I glanced up. No, Naxos hadn’t dropped down yet. How far had Ian thrown him? Five kilometers straight up? Ten?

  Phanes squared his shoulders with resignation as Ian sighted the arrow at the round, red pomegranate dangling from the stadium’s uppermost beam. Exhilaration and relief washed over me. In another few seconds, this would be over. Ian wouldn’t miss. He could make that shot on a bad day, and as he’d proved, he was having the opposite of a bad day right now.

  Ian drew the arrow back until the string could go no farther . . . and swung right, aiming at me instead of the dangling fruit. I had an instant to be shocked before agony exploded in my back.