Aphrodite's Hunt (28 page)

The two men began to circle one another. Gia and the rest of her pack fanned around the circle, forming an outline of bodies. Some of her pack mates had shifted to wolf form, prancing and barking their excitement. Most of those still in human form looked solemn, as if they weren’t sure who to root for.

A stab of pain pricked Gia’s heart. If she’d been half the leader she’d thought she was, more of her people would be cheering for Sorin.

“Byron, Gia has told me of your wife’s death,” Sorin said suddenly. “I am gravely sorry for what my kind has done.”

“Shut up,” Byron growled. “I know what your kind is capable of and I won’t let you infect my pack. You’ll die tonight and you will not rise again tomorrow.”

He dove for Sorin, one hand sweeping out toward the center of his body. Sorin dodged the attack easily, moving with a speed impressive even to a group of werewolves.

“Gia says you are a good man with sound judgment and a level head.” Sorin tilted his head. “I am afraid I do not see it.”

Byron bared his teeth, his eyes flashing with rage. “Gia was a good leader. I’m sad she has been so poisoned by your mind tricks. I can only hope she’ll get better when I soak the ground with your black blood.”

“My blood is a red as yours. You would know that if you had managed to inflict any damage on the ones actually responsible for your wife’s death.”

Gia gasped, her mouth falling open at Sorin’s cruel audacity. She was so taken aback, she almost didn’t notice the effect the barb had on Sorin’s opponent.

Byron froze, pain, shock, and rage contorting his facial features into a mask of horror. Sorin took the opportunity to let his claws erupt from his fingers, dragging them across the other man’s chest as he dove past him. Byron hissed and whirled around, keeping his balance as he kept his gaze on Sorin.

“You’re trying to use my anger to make me clumsy,” Byron said softly. He straightened up as if the wounds in his chest didn’t hurt at all. “It won’t work.”

Gia listened to their conversation, craning her head to catch every word. Byron’s words chilled her to the bone. Her heart seized in her chest as Byron and Sorin continued to battle. Sorin managed to inflict more damage than she’d expected, but Byron was a man possessed. His anger didn’t rush him, or make him clumsy. Instead it just seemed to numb him from feeling any pain. No matter how much damage Sorin inflicted, he stayed upright, moving as if he wasn’t hurt.

Gia frowned. Byron hardly seemed to be fighting back. He took Sorin’s damage and kept circling, but he seemed to be waiting for something. But what?

She turned her attention to Sorin’s face. His eyes seemed a little wild, showing too much white. His fangs were fully extended, his mouth remaining half open as he fought. It wasn’t until she saw his throat swallowing a little too often that Gia realized what was happening. She grabbed Claudiu’s arm.

“He’s letting Sorin bleed him and tiring him out at the same time,” she hissed.

Claudiu’s eyes widened. “He’s trying to work him into bloodlust.” He shook his head. “It’s brilliant. He’s fully dressed so Sorin will go for his neck. He’ll leave his body open to be gutted.”

“And on top of that, he’ll show everyone in the pack Sorin’s vampiric side in its worst light,” Gia murmured. Her stomach rolled on a wave of nausea. “He’s going to kill him.”

Horrified, she stared, helpless to do anything with the knowledge she had. Claudiu put an arm around her and she let him hold her up, too terrified to stand on her own. Just as she feared, Sorin dove for Byron’s neck, gripping his lower jaw with one hand to shove his face away and bare the column of his throat. A scream ripped from her mouth as Byron buried a clawed hand in Sorin’s belly, his forearm flexing as he made a fist in the vampire’s intestines. Red blood gushed over his arm as his body followed Sorin’s to the ground so he knelt on top of him.

She buried her face in Claudiu’s chest, fighting not to vomit. She couldn’t look, couldn’t watch as the man she loved, the man she’d only just found, died on the grass in her sacred circle.

“Gia listen,” Claudiu said suddenly.

She peeked around his shirt, holding her breath as she watched Sorin raise his head. His voice was so low, she could barely make it out.

“Byron, you know this won’t kill me,” he gasped. “There’s only one way to kill a vampire.” He stared into the bigger man’s eyes. “I won’t die as easily as she did.”

Byron howled, a furious rage filled sound. His eyes roved over the ground and locked on something a few yards away. Gia’s eyes darted to the stick lying just outside the circle. Her mouth opened to scream a warning as Byron lunged over and grabbed the jagged piece of wood. Her cry pierced the night as Byron fell to his knees beside Sorin, raising the stake high over his chest before bringing it down through Sorin’s chest and piercing his heart.

She collapsed to her knees, pain exploding inside her as if it had been her heart the wooden stake had pierced so violently. The sounds of the world faded out. She was vaguely aware of Claudiu screaming that Byron had cheated, that using a weapon disqualified him. Then all she could hear was her own heartbeat pounding like thunder in her ears. Her temples pulsed with a vicious beat, each wave of blood heating her body until she thought she’d boil alive. Then a strange numbness began to creep over her. She stared at the ground as her life shattered at her feet.

Someone was shaking her. She couldn’t hear anything, could barely feel anything. Claudiu’s face appeared in front of her and he put his head between her eyes and the ground. His mouth was moving and his eyes were wide open. He grabbed her face and turned her toward the inside of the circle. A voice in her head screamed at her not to look—not to see the dead flesh that had been her lover. When her eyes finally hit the circle, the world erupted back into sound.

A white wolf lay in the circle. Several of her packmates stood between Byron and the wolf that lay gasping on its side. Byron stared at the beast like it was a ghost, blood soaking his clothes and making him look like a battle crazed warrior returned from a slaughter. They all stared as the wolf struggled to its feet. Its fur glinted in the moonlight, revealing the slick mess of blood soaking its fur. Gia choked as she ran to the wolf.

As she fell to her knees beside him. Reaching down, she flailed inside his metaphysical form until she found his human side. Praying the second change would further heal his wounds, she ripped the man free from the beast.

His body shivered and then exploded into smooth pale skin. Sorin lay beside her, once again in human form. The ugly hole in his stomach was still a deep wound, but it had healed somewhat. She was more concerned with the hole over his heart.

She pressed her ear to his chest, almost crying with gratitude when she heard it beating, weak, but there. She burst into tears, dragging him into her lap. Sorin chuckled softly even as he winced in pain.

“My love, be gentle, I am still rather full of holes.”

“Shut up, you bloody bastard, you scared the shit out of me,” she sobbed.

He patted her back, gently pulling away. She stubbornly held on, not quite trusting that he was alive. “My love, if you will not let go, at least stand with me. There is something I must say.”

She stood, holding as tightly to him as she could without exacerbating his injuries. He leaned heavily on her, almost entirely supported by her arm wrapped around his body above the hole over his intestines and under the one over his heart. She couldn’t keep herself from staring at the injuries, shocked that he’d survived them even after two shifts.

Sorin raised his face and looked out over the faces gathered around them.

“If I were a vampire, I would be truly dead,” he announced, his voice strong despite a slight wheeze. “Byron pierced my heart, a blow no vampire could survive.” He met Byron’s eyes and the other man just stared at him, his face slack with shock. “But I am not a vampire. I am a
vukodlak
. I change my form just as all of you do and when I do so, my body heals. It is that strength and resiliency that I will dedicate to protecting each and every one of you, should I earn the right to be your lycaeon.”

The crowd didn’t erupt into applause, but the hushed whispers that spread like wildfire through the ranks was close enough. Gia smiled, tears of joy cutting trails through the blood on his chest. Sorin sagged in her arms and she looked up at his face in concern.

“Sorin, you need energy to finish healing. Drink—”

“Shhhhh, my love,” he whispered. “Help me outside the circle.”

As she settled him on the ground beside Claudiu, she fixed him with her most serious look. “You need blood to heal.”

“Gia, I have just worked rather hard to convince your pack that I am more werewolf than vampire,” Sorin said dryly. “It would hardly help my efforts to be seen sucking the blood from any of your packmates.”

“What about energy? Can you . . . you know . . . drink my energy like you did Grigore’s?”

Sorin shook his head. “I will not steal your energy. You need it for your battle.”

“Take mine,” Claudiu volunteered immediately.

Sorin and Gia both raised their eyebrows. “That is very generous,” Sorin said slowly. “Thank you.”

“GIA!”

All three of them jerked their heads up to see Rhianne standing on her throne. Her eyes burned with fury as she pointed to Gia. “It’s not over yet, Gia,” she hissed. “You still have to beat me.”

She leapt high into the air, changing form as she did so. Smooth silver fur flowed over her body, her back and ears dusted in a coating of black. Her white legs flexed as she landed on the ground, the epitome of grace and beauty.

Gia stared at her. The wolf snarled and backed up, inviting Gia to join the circle and begin the battle that would determine who ruled the pack. A thousand emotions fell over her like a raging waterfall crashing into a roiling river. Fear and pain from watching Sorin fall still lingered inside her. Frustration over her pack’s divided loyalties tortured her. Rage at Rhianne’s smug taunting heated her blood. Each emotion washed over her, beating her back and forth until finally she couldn’t take it anymore. She stood, slowly so as not to let her emotions run away with her body.

“I have had a rough month,” she said quietly, her gaze boring into Rhianne’s wolfish countenance. She took a step. “You seduced my mate.” She looked around at her pack. “You forced me into Aphrodite’s Hunt, despite the fact that I made it clear who I wanted my mate to be.” She turned to Byron. “You almost took him from me, almost killed him not for food or self-defense, not even to win the fight. You tried to kill him because you hate what you think he is.”

She let her gaze rove over her pack. “Sorin has proven himself to me and to you. Now it’s my turn to prove myself to you, to once again show that I am worthy of being your lupa.” She stepped into the circle. “To any of you who are thinking of challenging me, or my choice of mate, I say to you,” she stared into Rhianne’s golden eyes. “Pay attention.”

The sacred space held an energy like nothing else. This space had seen a thousand challenge fights, held a thousand deaths and a thousand drops of blood. She hissed as it washed over her, buzzing over her skin like electricity. She didn’t fight it, she knew she wasn’t meant to.

She grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting the garment over her head as she began the change. Her muscles shuddered with the effort to control it, but she held on. As an alpha, she had a level of control others didn’t—a control that showed strength and power. She didn’t have to surrender to the change all at once, a beast erupting from a human body in a cacophony of cracking bones. For her, there was another option.

Ever so slowly, she let her beast rise to the surface, removing clothing in a slow and meaningful manner. Adjusting her balance with every shift, she held onto her control until she stood in the circle, a perfect combination of woman and wolf.

Her pack stared at her, respect and admiration clear on their faces. Holding this form was something few of them could do for very long and even fewer could battle this way. She stood on two paws, her legs bent backwards in the manner of her beast, but thicker than her wolf form. Her long tail brushed the back of her legs, swaying slightly in the breeze. Her trunk was the most human part of her, almost a fur covered version of her mortal self while her head most closely resembled her wolf with pointed ears and a thick scruff like a mink around her shoulders. Her fingers were longer, tipped in wickedly curved black claws.

Wolf-Rhianne growled, drawing everyone’s attention. Gia snarled as the other woman stood up, her wolf form slowly humanizing until she stood in the same stage of change as Gia.